#It's a sad truth but it's the truth nonetheless

[zombieplaguedoc]

Listen, I just believe that humans can only be truly good and kind-hearted in fiction. In the real world it's impossible.

[seasurfacefullofclouds1]

The worst part about that man having a meeting and buying fish just after Fizzy's death is that larries were like poor Harry he had to do the pap walks so that Louis can grieve in peace. I was very new to the fandom and to my own disgust,i believed it for a while even though it didn't sit right with me i was like these people are his fans i'm sure they know better and i didn't see one person disagreeing so i was like maybe i'm the crazy one? I didn't know any solo louie back then unfortunately

They always whitewash that man and turn him into a victim instead of the asshole he is and unfortunately it works every time. I came to my senses after a while and since then, that man has only proved me right. The thing is i didn't even like him or his music back then. I joined the fandom after seeing Louis on the X factor and he grabbed my attention so i joined his fandom but larries were inescapable so i forced my self to check it out and fell down the Larry rabbit hole. i listened to Harry's album once and called it a day. I didn't like his music and he screamed fake to me but i admit i shipped them bc of the earlier videos. But i'm still disgusted with myself for not calling these people out and letting them make someone's grief about someone else and using it as a tool for their fantasies. My only excuse is that i was a naive 18-year-old at the time who got manipulated easily but still. I still feel guilty about it How can they sleep at night (especially the creepy old ones) when they're adults who not only believe but promote these ideas that harm Louis in the worst possible ways to their (young) followers is beyond me. I'll never forgive them for making me even entertain the idea of something like that (even for a moment). I know i was at fault but i know myself that shit would've never came to my mind if they didn't put it to the world as a non negotiable. I hate them sm i hope they rot in hell along with their precious Hazza princess

Thank God solo Louie fandom has flourished since then!

Also : for all those baby Larries running back and forth between my blog and Larries: you won’t find anything to like here. Save your tears.

[anantaru]

EX HUSBAND WRIOTHESLEY

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — ex! husband wriothesley headcanons

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, reader is referred to as "wife", a little sad, unprotected syx, hitting it raw, very rough fucking lmao, love sick & feral wriothesley, very messy too

ex! husband wriothesley who will hesitantly accept your upsetting decision to file for divorce, and to nullify your earnest promise— nonetheless, it's evident that it was crushing him through the very inside, the pain your words caused had invited him to explore the enormity of sorrow. however, do not be fooled because he won't show it to you, meaning his pure and real emotions, instead wriothesley will decide to verbally jester around about the current happening to brighten up an otherwise daunting interaction between two past lovers.

it was to no avail, the agony festering on his facial expressions and there was nothing in his life worth remembering other than you and a concealed shade of his past— yet, the last thing he'd want to happen was to lose you entirely, signifying that if he was to put his foot down and tell you that he doesn't want the divorce to happen, it probably doesn’t mean much after all.

ex! husband wriothesley who will reminisce about past events in front of you, your first kiss or that one particular date where he asked you to marry him, just small, little details about you that only your ex husband knew of— but, he'll do it in a subtle way, sneakily sprinkling it into a conversation in hopes you'd get a dash of sudden yearning as well— the same he did whenever he casted his mind back towards the good, old days.

ex! husband wriothesley who will speak in riddles to you, keep his quick-witted demeanor in order to fool you into thinking that he was doing quite well after the divorce was fulfilled— and his intentions weren't in wanting to make you feel bad, sorrowful or even jealous. no, not at all. in fact, he thought that if he was to hide his raw emotions and genuine feelings in front of you, you wouldn't feel awful about your decision and were able to continue living a normal life, yet without him.

ex! husband wriothesley who promised you that he will take off the ring that symbolized your once passionate marriage— but will behind your back grab a necklace to loop it inside the precious metal, so he could always wear the ring around his neck, secretly hiding it from your eyes to see while holding on to it whenever he found himself in trouble, or saddened.

ex! husband wriothesley who feels helplessly confused still, harshly drawing back for air as he let a brittle thread of a nervous laughter go when you suddenly ask him if he wanted to remain friends with you, which— in truth, he didn't, and the second after you proposed that insane idea to him he thought you must be joking, or that you surely must've lost your mind (which would make the divorce explainable).

it goes without saying that the real reason as to why the duke didn't seek out to befriend you, had nothing to do with the feelings he harbors towards you suddenly dissolving, it's quite the opposite because he was so helplessly in love with you, archons, he was bloody obsessed with you.

certainly, he thought that such friendship between two past lovers would only cause injury to you both in the end, for the main part to you who he cared the utmost about.

aside from the fact that even now, when he notices how you steadily keep your distance from him, at all times, it breaks him from within.

how cold it was when all ex! husband wriothesley sought after was your gentle caress and delicate kisses, he longed for an opportunity to just swiftly hush you with one step, raw and earnest trapping you against his strong arms while pressing his lips on top of yours when— oh, he does it again, he was indulging in fantasy, gradually yielding to an alternative version of you two ending up together.

in the duke's own words, he believed that love should be warm, a sweet addiction, a magic gifted by the universe, so why— just what had went so terribly wrong that he was struggling to understand it? you should just say you do not care for him, tell him you feel nothing so he can walk away, or maybe, regardless he will stay.

ex! husband wriothesley who despite you both being apart now, remains faithful to you, protective and nurturing to your every needs— because it was simple as that— for the duke, you are his shining sun, and will still remain it to his dying day.

to his crushed and painful body, your caressing trace was his only medication, and your smile? it was the light to his broken heart, for that is what he had called a warm love.

ex! husband wriothesley who noticed how the natural warmth surrounding his body had but faded completely as his mind began to gather around great negativities— perhaps he was flawed and that's the reason you left him all along, cursed to feel the deep sadness slither through his veins like a freezing liquid conquering his body as he shuts himself off for a while, until he can recollect himself again that is.

ex! husband wriothesley who had inappropriate thoughts enter his mind whenever he thought about you— here is to note that he utterly disliked the way his brain just so happened to work and how he wasn't able to shake off those strong and vivid fantasies playing in his mind on repeat.

but how can he not dream about his wife? well, ex-wife, which in his memories was pressed under his large figure exposed with your breasts on full display, his hips working constantly to please you just the way he knew you liked it.

because you see, the duke knew your body, in and out, one might even assume he knows it better than you do. and he still has a couple of your panties left in his drawer— in fact, he wanted to return them, please believe him, but he found himself to be quite busy these past weeks that he must've simple forgotten to do so.

ex! husband wriothesley who at some point, cannot live like this anymore and was desperate to see you again. after your marriage had crushed, you weren't visiting the fortress of meropide anymore and as the duke was rarely leaving it himself, it could've been the perfect situation to move on from each other, yet he simply could not do that, not when you were constantly on his mind.

ex! husband wriothesley who will find courage and leave the fortress to visit you at your new place, in fact, the mere sight of the duke exiting the underworld was rarely seen, so the guards figured that it must be of graven importance— as invisible and weightless as your love for him might be for now, in the middle of the night he walks out to find you, taking in a last view at the fortress  before an itching impatience got the better of him. 

he just had to see you, now.

ex! husband wriothesley who will show up at your doorstep and suddenly admit that he cannot do this anymore, that he felt incredibly miserable and heartbroken, confessing his undying love and affection towards you, using words he had once spelled out to you the night you had gotten married.

"night and day, i dream of you," wriothesley yells, as if there had been nothing left to his choice, the sight of your glowering eyes and those soft, frowning lips he just misses to kiss.

"and there is not one corner on this world that you could possibly travel to in order to free me from this torture," he adds forbiddingly.

through dark eyelashes, wriothesley stares at sudden tears welling up in your glassy eyes, a sharp amenity invading your cheeks as he places his palms on top of them in order to brush your warm tears away. "you're mine," he said, the corners of his mouth slightly quirking upwards, his hot breathing lingering around your gasping lips, "and not even a divorce can change that."

ex! husband wriothesley who places a delicate splatter of warm and passionate kisses on top of your lips the moment you pull him by the collar of his shirt, his surprised growl turning into a stifled cry when you wrap your arms around his neck in order to keep him close to you, together stumbling into the coziness of your home as one hand was firmly placed against your back, his mouth eagerly parting as your lips welcome the teasing slide of his tongue lapping across your own.

ex! husband wriothesley who will hiss upon revelling in your soft fingers tracing over his twitching muscles when you undress each other, his disheveled hair accentuated with a fond smile as his hands trail down the sides of your face, leaning his hungry lips against yours again, the lingering, familiar scent of your fragrance penetrating his nostrils turning him needier, on the brink of passing out.

ex! husband wriothesley who loves hearing you only reply in soft and crumbled whimpers of his name slipping past the edges of your tongue as he cannot wait to feel you— fuck, and neither can you wait to feel him again, a clashing pressure on your hot core narrowing the space between your bodies as he lines himself up with you, your nails slithering down his chiseled back as he slides into you abruptly, your neglected cunt instantly welcoming him.

and you squeal out in pleasure as he thrusts into you, the maddening scent of his musky perfume persisting around your shivering frame as wriothesley hooks one leg over his shoulder, the squelching sounds of your wet sex echoing throughout the entire bedroom just signalizing how much you must've missed him as well, his addicting gaze always flickering across the way your body reacted to him.

ex! husband wriothesley who shoves himself further into your soft cunt— and you're just so unbelievably cute and adorable at your desperate attempts to silence those candid whines and mewls of his name. one of his hands was now placed on the headboard for additional support as to not suddenly suffocate you with his large body towering above before he increases the pace on your cunt, setting for a deep and fast rhythm that would surely stay engraved in your walls even after he's done.

ex! husband wriothesley who kisses you like a starved animal as your tears tickle the soft features on his face, your hidden emotions running wild at the sheer passion he unlocked in you, his erection throbbing harder as he groans into your lips, triggering every last one of your nerves in your body and infusing them with persisting vibrations— now, you're gasping at the lack of oxygen in your lungs as his constant thrusts into you drove you deeper into the mattress, if that was even possible, considering the fact that your whole body had been caged in between your bed and wriothesley's frame towering on top.

ex! husband wriothesley who chokes back a desperate growl as he sought out further friction, growing feral, then hissing sharply as his sensitive cockhead reaches into your deepest parts, his shaft all the way sucked in by your used pussy lubricating him so he can ram himself in and out of you harder, slick pooling out of your hole whenever he pulls out only to press back inside with one quick snap.

ex! husband wriothesley who worships your body, making you feel every thick vein as it throbs violently against your walls, your thudding hole making him lose his mind on how you're convulsing while he curls into you— your swollen cunt tensing and releasing, grinding up a little as thick, white cum gathers at the base of his cock, his mesmerizing eyes glued on the creamy spot that was showing him just how much you enjoyed this too.

ex! husband wriothesley who resumes his fast tempo, your teeth rattling with every new impact of his hips bouncing against your flesh blanking your mind into pure paradise— your moving bodies couldn't stop anymore as you're fucking each other well over the limits of your endurance, drool dribbling down the corners of your mouth as wriothesley was fucking your cunt desperately, unhinged and making it a point to rock your hips in and out along a particular angle that you'd always squeeze over the rigid veins prancing on the underside of his shaft.

ex! husband wriothesley who exhales heavily when you tell him that you're close, his hips pressing and digging into your sensitivity once more before lifting you off the mattress, chasing your relief like a wild beast that he so graciously wanted to see unfold— low profanities and fast tumbles of his name falling from your lips as your thighs begin to shake and ache, your throat turning dry— you're done for, and wriothesley just fits so perfectly in you, into every curve, every spongy spot and every bump inside that you're so painfully full, crowded and overflowing of his thick shaft.

you're hiccuping due to the pressure he presses into your sensitivity as you're way beyond your own limits now, at last feeling a twitch and quake as your body pleads to cum, his grueling thrusts aiding you when you violently convulse around his length, a sharp intake of breath breaking every other noise in the room when you cum all over his cock, your orgasm hitting you hard, wriothesley continuing with slow, language thrusts until you've rode out your high.

the duke was being eager to watch it all happen, something primal at the back of his mind manifestikg when the sudden constriction of your fluttering hole made him grunt lowly against your ear, rolling his hips nearly painfully hard between your legs before dragging himself away, cumming inside of your walls and marking you up for good with his warm, sticky cum.

ex! husband wriothesley who watched you being short of breath, and couldn’t resist looking at the mess between your legs, your abused cunt twitching around his girth as your pussy flutters around nothing, your legs were quivering with a combination of your essence and his seed oozing out of your hole, staining the silky bedsheets.

ex! husband wriothesley who'll press himself back into you with one sharp snap, leaving his cock in so you could clench and throb, small thrusts turning sloppy and sticky with his dampened bangs glued on his forehead as he kisses the tip of your nose before embracing your pouty lips again, your mouth partly open as you whine out, your sensitivity spiraling of his cock still being nestled in you, his shaft already hard and thick again, your battered cunt jolting underneath him.

wriothesley smiles, "it is maddening, how much you consume my very being, my love." and speaks through his heart.

© 2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[luveline]

What about a lil fic of the first time bombshell reader gets mad at Spencer? Like it can be while they r dating or before and May be r is giving Spencer quiet treatment?

ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.3k

Spencer waits for Morgan to get up for a coffee before he gets up himself, tailing his teasing teammate to the microwave. He's hoping Morgan's in a sympathetic mood today, because Spencer is in dire need of some sympathy. 

"Loverboy," Morgan says, his voice steeped in suspicion. "Can I help you with something?"

"Do you know why Y/N's upset?" 

"You don't? You're the expert." 

Spencer rubs at his nose, the beginning of another migraine brewing between his eyes. The gesture draws a little more empathy than his misguided question. 

"You're gonna have to ask her yourself. I don't want her angry at me too, she's gonna fix my computer before Garcia finds out I fell for her phishing email test." 

"I've been asking her. It's making it worse. She won't answer my questions anymore. She just hums." 

"Silent treatment. Yikes." Morgan sips his tea through a grimace. "I mean, you must've done something bad. She's usually so–" 

"Lovely?" 

"–in love with you." Morgan laughs as he wanders off in the direction of the stairs up to Hotch's office. "Same thing."

Spencer decides to make a cup of bribery tea for you. He microwaves a mug of hot water and plunks a bag of your favourite blend in without ceremony, bobbing it up and down as he watches you from over his shoulder. You've moved desks upon request to sit with the rest of the team and opposite Spencer (against Hotch's self-proclaimed better judgement), your things set carefully in contrast to his books, a library's worth teeming on every spare inch. Some have even made their way onto your desk, pristinely stacked in wait of his perusal. It's one small gesture among the hundreds of kind things you do for him. 

"Here," he says, setting the mug down next to your mouse carefully. 

Your anger strikes him. Eyes frosted with an uneasiness he's not partial to, lips, so perfectly painted, screwed into a frown. It's not nice seeing someone he cares about upset with him, worse when he has no idea what it is he's done. 

"You're annoyed at me," he says. You wait for him to continue. "I don't know what I did." 

"That makes it worse." You frown at him. After a few seconds of this—your frowning, his looking sorry and confused— you sigh wretchedly (as in, he's never heard you sound that sad, ever, and he hates it). "Spencer, you stood me up." 

Everything in him goes cold. "No I didn't." 

Your sad frown melds again to anger. "Yes you did! I– I got my hair done at a salon, I bought a new dress, I bragged to all of my friends that my cute coworker was gonna be my date, and none of that mattered because you didn't text me back so I was worried sick all night that you were," —your voice drops to a private whisper— "in trouble somewhere, and then you come into work like nothing happened? Not even a hint of an apology? I thought you wanted to come."  

Your voice burns with embarrassment. Spencer can feel it in his throat, that plucky ache of someone letting you down. 

"That was last night?" he asks quietly. A friend asked you to their charity ball, not as ridiculously fancy as it sounds but an occasion of esteem and important to you nonetheless. "Y/N, I thought that was– I have it in my phone as next month. As November. I'm so sorry." 

"Why didn't you answer my texts?" 

He winces. "I had a migraine… Screens make it worse, and I haven't charged the battery yet because I was coming to work anyways I'm sorry, Y/N, really. I mixed it up. I should've asked you." 

You seem less disheartened at his admission. You cross your arms over your abdomen and lean back a touch in your chair, as if deciding whether he's being truthful. Spencer isn't in the habit of lying to you and anybody could tell you that, so after a few seconds you look away. "I asked you if you were excited yesterday morning. I told you my dress came."  

"I know." He can't believe he's gotten it wrong like this. Anyone can make a mistake, but he imagines you in your new dress with your hair done waiting for him in the cold weather that descended on Virginia last night and his guts twist into a knot. "I didn't piece it together. I didn't… I didn't…" 

Spencer can't remember the last time he let someone he loves down like this. His migraine spikes again like a needle in the eye, fiery agony that has him closing his eyes to cope. 

"Spencer," you say, softly admonishing. "Hey, it's okay." Your chair creaks.

"I'm so sorry," he says through his teeth. 

"I thought you were being a jerk, but I guess I should've known you wouldn't do something like that." You stand up and take his elbow into a very gentle hand. "I'm sorry for giving you the cold shoulder. It was childish. I was just hurt thinking you did it on purpose." 

"Sorry," he says again. "Migraine." 

Your hand rises to his cheek. "Yeah? Sit down, Spence. Take a breather." 

The doctors say that Spencer's migraines are psychosomatic. He doesn't get how something so odious can start from nothing. 

You seem twice as upset but in a different light, ushering him down into your chair. "Don't worry," you say softly, your hand falling into his hair, "I took a great picture. You can still see me in my nice dress." 

You're kidding but he's genuinely glad. Then the pain takes over and he can't see the other side of it for years. 

It only feels like years. 

When he can open his eyes, you've knelt by his chair. He hates to see you getting your pants dirty like that, hates worse that your eyebrows have pinched and the soft plane of your forehead has etched deep with concern. 

"You can still be mad at me," he says under his breath. 

"I'm a little upset," you confess, putting an uncharacteristically tentative hand on his knee. "It sucked, but not as much as this seems to suck for you." You're like an angel, all pretty and wide-eyed at his feet, your hand beginning a short path up his leg, a soft back and forth. "I'm sorry Spencer. I was punishing you for something that wasn't your fault." 

"You didn't know. How could you, I–" He winces as another wave of pain flares behind his eye, blurring your small smile. "I should've charged my phone." 

"Maybe. I can't imagine you had the capacity, Spence. Not if you're like this." 

"Don't just forgive me because I'm in pain." 

"I'm not, I'm forgiving you because even though it really hurt my feelings turning up alone, I'm not cruel enough to blame you now." You squeeze his knee. It's an instant balm, the chronic ache behind his eyes easing ever so slightly. Your forgiveness makes the rest bearable. "Can you forgive me for being so heartless?" you ask lightly. 

Your lips curve demurely around each word. Spencer scrambles to cover your hand with both of his, his neck craned forward. "Of course I forgive you." 

"Thank you." Spencer could collapse. "Drink some of this tea, okay? Maybe drinking something will help."  

Nothing ever helps, but he does it because it's your hands bringing the cup to his lips. 

"I know you looked beautiful," he says between sips. 

"I would've looked better on your arm. Too bad you're getting grievously attacked by your own brain. This is what happens when it gets too big, babe, it's trying to come out of your ears." He's a little sorry to have won you back this way, but mostly so, so relieved. "Anymore of this'll and you'll start messing up the months. Oh, wait!" You laugh as he laughs but soon scramble to apologise when the sound makes his head hurt. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Drink some more tea, sweetheart." 

[behindavelvetcurtain]

[nmakii]

How about yandere! Alastor (human) with a reader who ran away from him... Reader and Alastor are married out of obligation (because of the decade), but what no one counted on was that Alastor really fell in love and was obsessed with his wife, but the reader didn't ...because of work and his secret (that he killed people and devoured them) Alastor hardly spent time with the reader.. Reader then began to fall in love and have a secret relationship, without Alastor knowing.. . So even though reader didn't want to hurt Alastor, since she saw him as a friend (more than her husband), reader ran away with her lover and passion... Leaving behind a very angry Alastor... (reader doesn't know what Alastor It's true)... What would happen?

NO ONE’S BETTER THAN I AM

— the feeling of a fresh love— oh, how wonderful. you only wished that man would have been alastor, just so that he wouldn’t have hunt your true love.

— hey pals 🔥🔥!! i took manipulation tactics from my social studies class and mother gothel, did i do well? HAHAHA :]

being married to alastor, the radio show host is quite the sensation in your town. you grew to be quite a local celebrity, many women even attempting to befriend you to get closer with your husband.

although, because of your marriage, many assumed you were a woman of many talents and high intelligence. but, unfortunately… it appears as if you have the perfect life; beautiful home, wonderful husband, a comfortable life— and, while most of it is true, it is still very far from the truth. the sad truth of it all was that this was a marriage of convenience

it was the only thing that made sense. you and alastor were close in age, you were both still single, you refused to marry a man as old as your father, alastor simply wished to rid himself of the many women throwing themselves at him, and you were already quite close to him since your parents were close, it was the best-case scenario.

when both of your parents had learned of the news, that alastor proposed to you, they were more than delighted. alastor’s mom immediately welcomed you into the family as one of her own, and alastor had grown to be fond of your father.

in front of cameras and watching eyes, alastor played the role of a loving husband well; keeping you safe with an arm wrapped around your waist, giving you his coat in cold weather, and speaking nothing but lovely worship in your name.

you played the ‘doting wife’ role surprisingly well too. the only thing that was different was alastor didn’t stop the act when you were behind closed doors.

‘what if someone is spying on us, hm? they may reveal our little secret to the media!’ that was his excuse. and your reason to let him kiss you, hold you against his chest, and even join you as you bathe occasionally. it always felt weird though. to you, alastor was nothing more than a friend, even something like a brother. doing all these intimate and romantic things with him, it felt wrong.

and even despite all the intimacy, you still felt lonely. here in your large house, you felt lonely; cooking a dinner for two, eating as one, and always having to leave the pot simmering over the stove, so that it’s still warm for your husband. warm for him up until midnight, when he’d usually come home— sometimes even returning home later…

and, on these late nights, you’d remain sleepless. what could he be doing? his radio broadcast only lasts up until 9 in the night. could he possibly be engaging with a mistress of sorts? doing all kinds of scandalous things before returning to your bed, bringing your back close to his chest and resting his face on the nape of your neck.

although it was unlikely… considering how you always wake up to a love letter from alastor in place of where he should be in your bed, but nonetheless, it didn’t stop those thoughts.

eventually, life began to grow boring… chores day and night before going to sleep again— it was just a boring cycle that filled your life with despair and simply just making you miserable.

that is, until you met eugene. quite the handsome man, he may even be a model! you ran into him when he was in a luxury shop, inspecting various items for purchase.

his fuzzy eyebrows, his big brown eyes, and his charming and gorgeous american smile— it’s hard not to fall for such a man.

it started off so innocent; just meeting him to shop together, then it escalated into lunch together, and then that night…

alastor brought you to the club where mimzy performs at, and just by coincidence, eugene had been there with some of his high school friends. under the influence of alcohol, alastor had climbed up the stage and danced with mimzy. laughing at your silly husband, you pointed him out to eugene as well.

and, in that moment he turned you around and kissed you. you tensed, fearing the sudden infidelity; how media would cover this kind of news for months. oh wait… everyone’s wasted, aren’t they..?

your breath heaved in fear, eyes darting to your husband, not even glancing at you— that was when you melted into his kiss.

after that night, the two of you had made an agreement to rendezvous every now and then at your house while alastor was still busy as ever at ‘work’.

and as these meetings with eugene became more and more frequent, the two of you may have… fallen in love. despite that, you still felt guilty; cheating on your husband who has done nothing but be a gentle and loving provider, how could you repay him like this?

but, then again, it is simply a marriage of convenience… alastor doesn’t love you, he couldn’t possibly… the two of you are best friends! so, if you told him, would he mind?

still, you couldn’t possibly risk it. this isn’t a relationship that will last long if the two of you keep it a secret, you have to find a solution soon.

“run away with me.”

“what?! are you insane?!?” you frowned at your lover. “you need to get away from him, and you’re too scared to tell him, aren’t you? it’s the perfect solution.” he argued back.

“alastor… won’t accept it that easily… he’ll probably try to hunt us down, then take me back…” your nose scrunched in fear at the thought. “isn’t it worth the risk, my love?” he took your hand in his, placing a gentle kiss on your fingers. “ah, f…fine…”

a week later, that was when you decided to leave. you packed a suitcase filled with your belongings. honestly, it was not much. most of the things in the house were bought by alastor before he had married you.

you were just about to leave, your lover right outside the door with a getaway car, prepared to leave your life in new orleans behind when your husbands voice stopped you.

“going somewhere, my love?”

“alastor! w-what are you doing up?” you jumped, turning around to face him. “i’d like to ask the same thing, my sweet darling. why do you have a suitcase and a car waiting for you?” he grinned wide, tilting his head.

“ah— i was gonna go out of state for a surprise for you…” you lied, breath shaky. “were you now? was this surprise that i’d never see my beautiful wife ever again?” he scoffed, walking over to you and grabbing you by your chin.

“did you think i’d really be so ignorant as to not know when my own wife is sneaking out? especially to meet other men…” he raised an eyebrow. “alastor! t-this isn’t what you think it is…” you frowned, tears building up in your eyes.

“oh, my dear, how pretty you look when you cry…” he smiled, taking a finger to wipe your tears and putting his finger against his tongue. “fine then, leave your loving and sweet husband behind… just know that— i’ve already corrupted you for any other man to enjoy. no one will love a divorcee, will they?” he moved his hand to cup your cheek, gentle despite his harsh words.

“i’ll let you have your fun, darling. soon enough, you’ll realize that there is no man who can love you better than i can.” he pulled his hand away from you, moving to your hips and leaving a lasting kiss on your lips.

unlike how he usually is, this kiss was harsh, possessive, and brutal. so devoid of any love, it was a pure, unadulterated obsession.

“i know what is best for you, darling. i’ll see you home very soon.”

[nefertitiacai]

Astro observations : "I GOT IT FROM MY DADDY" (AND MOMMY) edition

yk that one "DADDY" song by PSY sksksk

🪷 Venus in 4th house is an indicater of person being very beautiful and blessed with good looking genetics. They can also be conventionally attractive since 4th house also rules homeland, so they may be deemed as attractive where they live. A genetically blessed placement.

🪷 Jupiter in the 4th house is also an indicator for having a feature that may be "large" that runs through the family. Like being voluptuous or tall. Again a "genetically blessed" placement.

🪷 Sun/Jupiter in the 10th house individuals can learn a lot of stuff related to careers and build connections through their father.

🪷 Moon/Saturn in the second house may have some distinct facial features which resemble their parents. As both are considered planets that rule over parents and the second house rules over face.

🔴 (TW: Generational Trauma) ⏬

(also the observation and remedies which I've mentioned are purely based on generalization, if you may be dealing with it on a serious note then consulting a medical/health care professional is what is required💚)

🪷 Those who have Mars/Chiron/Saturn/Pluto in the 4th house/cancer/conj Moon may beat themselves up for a certain "flaw" which they consider themselves to have. This habit or problem may make them feel powerless. As if they are unable to change it. However, in actuality that "problem" didn't start with them but may be a generational thing/a characteristic which got inherited from a family member. [Our genetics play a major role in general with the way we are today (yes even personality-wise). But one can change it by will and if they indulge in self-improvement techniques like meditation, visualization, journaling with clear intentions, and other mindful activities]

📚 (PS. as a book enthusiast to others who are into reading self help books I'd recommend those who are dealing with such problems to read the book "It Didn't Start with You: How Inherited Family Trauma Shapes Who We Are and How to End the Cycle" by Mark Wolynn 😃)

(TW: mommy issues) moon conj Pluto placement and being notorious with mommy issues.

However, in my case, I have this placement and I don't feel it to be like that. My relationship with my mom is a very typical one. We have different views on certain stuff but we aren't toxic. Nonetheless, what I consider really to be toxic is my mom's side of the family and her childhood had also not been the best. So this placement actually may be something regarding the fact that your mum had to go through a lot and if you know that fact then it is easy to forgive her and give her a tight hug whenever you can.

This placement can also be an indicator of the child's mom going through a stressful phase during the time of the birth.

🟢 TW over, ok enough with sad stuff now 🤧

🪷 It is an observation but I've noticed Sagittarius, Pisces, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Leo placements folks may resemble their father's looks and personality-wise distinctively. Like there's that one feature that they may also be known for like, "you have a smile like your dad". It may be due to them being ruled by Jupiter, Saturn, and sun respectively, the celestial bodies which deal with "fatherly figures" in astrology.

🪷 Leo, Cancer, Aries, Gemini and Capricorn placements 🤝 acting all wholesome and cute when their mom is around.

🪷 If you and your sibling both have prominent mercury placements then you might hear someone saying this at some point "oh YoU BOth LoOk likE eACh otHer a Lot" and y'all will be like "b*tch no, from which angle, I am obviously more gorgeous 😤" 

🪷You know being a Sagittarius 🐎(also honorable mention Aquarius and Pisces) this proverb literally go with us for our parents 'You can lead a horse 🐎 to water but you can't make him drink '

📚[ PS.  if the horse is willing then only it'll drink, you can't drink water on its behalf. (That's the universal truth with life btw, you are responsible for your own tasks. Others can only guide you but in the end, it's you who will have to act, innit)]

Even though it is for our own "good" and "wellbeing" that our parents do and force these placements to be doing things in a certain way these placements will only "keep drink up to it" if it gives them a feeling of expansion and freedom. (That's why Sagittarius and Pisces placements are deemed to be "irresponsible" but that's not the case. And Aquarius placements have a reputation to be "rebellious" but that's unlikely. These placements most of the time may think ahead of their time and may have a bigger picture on things that's why they may consider certain tasks to be irrelevant (however it can also backfire and this certainly doesn't mean to be an excuse to run away))

🪷 Virgo and Libra placements tend to have good mannerisms which may be taught by their parents. They are big on punctuality. Also, they are well-behaved and sweet people. Often being talked about as "their parents raised them well". 

Virgo is associated with the 6th house which is also the house that rules over service so they tend to be helpful. Libra on the other hand is associated with the 7th house which is the house of partnerships, that's why they like to treat people with kindness and have a pleasing appeal. Like a comrade. (Although this also has a shadow aspect to it, this can make these placements to be perfectionists in unhealthy amounts and they may start to have people-pleasing tendencies. They may also grow pessimistic since many people may view their kindness to be their weakness, which is not true at all you guys, y'all are great and don't fall into what those low vibrational people have to say.)

It's 11:11 while I type this 💫 also, umaru chan is so adorable

[little-spicy]

SNOWFALL

Robb Stark x !Baratheon Reader

Summary: an alliance of house Baratheon and house Stark was going to set place in Winterfell. Y/N Baratheon and Robb Stark were to be wed and be man and wife.

WARNING: MDNI!! Smut 🔥🔥

THE EARLY MORNING WAS CRISP AND COLD, the warm breath that Y/N emitted could be seen in the air.

She held her coat close to her as she watched the morning sunrise. She felt sad as this would be the last moment she would be a young maiden. She would be married later in the afternoon and she felt frightened.

She was told her entire childhood that Robb Stark would be her betrothed. Her father and his father were friends and her father knew the best way their houses could come together was through marriage.

She was the oldest, being one year old than Joffrey and the only one of her family to have her fathers brown curls.

Of course her mother despised the agreement, she believed her daughter was worthy of a better suitor but nonetheless it was still set in stone.

Robb Stark was definitely different from what she imagined. She knew it could of been worse, he was a gentleman and kind, showing her the home that was soon to be shared.

And she could tell he was just as nervous was her. They were both young and knew their duties were required one day.

Y/N tried not to think of it as she felt the sun rise and felt the heat of the sun rest on red cheeks.

"Excited for the big day?" A voice said and Y/N jumped and turned to see her uncle Tyrion coming forward.

"Excited to be married and away from my family?" She asked her uncle sighed and stood beside her.

"It's probably better, you and I both know that kingslanding is no place for someone like you." He told her.

"And what am I?" She asked and he chuckled.

"Truthful, kind, surprising you turned out that way considering how your mother is." He said and she laughed.

"Don't say that too loud, mother can hear everything." She told him.

"That's because your mother is a wicked witch, have I taught you nothing from my bedtime stories?" Tyrion asked and the both laughed.

"I do, even though I know how my family is, I'll still miss them." She said and looked down at her uncle. "Especially you, what will I do without my favorite uncle?"

"You'll adapt, you'll grow that's a good quality you have as well." Tyrion said. "Just know that you'll be taken care of, that Robb stark is a good man, I hate to admit but he's a good man."

"Thank you." Y/N stared at the sunset and closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Time to start the day?"

"Of course, let's go." Tyrion said and walked with his niece.

Both of them taking of the future and of the past, making Y/N feel at ease from the words of her uncle.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After the small walk and talking with her uncle, she returned to her chambers and only a few moments of peace lasted until her hand maidens came in and began to get ready for the wedding.

She smelled of lavender and lilac, and her long brown curls fell perfectly. She felt refreshed and as they dried her, she saw her wedding gown laying on the bed.

Soon her mother, Lady Stark, and her soon to be sister Sansa had come in to help.

The Stark women came to bring Y/N gifts to welcome her into their home. Sansa had helped make a veil for Y/N and Lady Stark had brought a beautiful brooch of the Stark family to welcome her.

She felt so honored by the kindness of the Stark family, of course she could tell there was never a dull moment.

"If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to be alone with my daughter." Cersei told the Stark ladies and the nodded.

"Of course, see you at the wedding my dear." Lady Stark said and Sansa followed behind and left the two women alone.

Cersei looked at her daughter and smiled, she placed her hands on her daughter's cheek and led her to the dresser.

"Let me do your hair." Cersei said and Y/N nodded and felt content as her mother brushed through her hair. Feeling as if they were home in the castle. "This will be the last time I do it, then you'll do it for daughters of your own."

"I'll miss this." Y/N said sadly. "You always made the prettiest braids."

"Your grandmother did the same thing for me when I was a child." Cersei told her. "You remind me so much of her, my mother was so kind and i remember the day you were born, I could just feel my mother's presence in you."

As Cersei continued to brush, Y/N but her bottom lip and felt the creeping question she always had when it came to her betrothal.

"Mother, is it scary?" Y/N asked her. "I mean I know you didn't marry father for love, how did you do it?"

"Wine, lots of wine." Cersei said, bitterly and grabbed a chunk of hair and brushed it softly. "Overtime it did help that I had children, I had you, that's all that mattered."

"Do you think he'll make me happy?" Y/N asked and Cersei scoffed.

"I wouldn't count too much on that, sometimes it's just an alliance, remember that." Cersei told her and Y/N grew silent. "Are only duty is to marry and bring honor to our house through marriage and bare many children."

Y/N nodded and the two of them fell silent as Cersei continued to do her daughter's hair.

Cersei loved all her children but something about Y/N was special. She was her first, the first one of her children to truly live. She looked up at Cersei and when she did it felt as if nothing mattered.

Her daughter looked up to her and still does, Cersei knows the type of person she is, but the warmth and innocent eyes of her daughter made her feel human and her softer side was only seen by her.

Cersei didn't care of that her daughter wasn't Jaime's all she cared was that her daughter was protected. She truly had a place for her little doe.

"Lets get you in your dress." Cersei said as Y/N looked in the mirror and saw her hair up in a beautiful braid.

She followed her mother and helped her in her dress. She tied up her corset and helped her to the tiniest detail, knowing this would be the last time she would.

"You look beautiful." Cersei said as she led Y/N to the mirror. Y/N felt truly beautiful, she forgot for just a moment what awaited her and felt happy with how she looked.

"Thank you mother." Y/N said and turned to her mother and hugged her tightly. Cersei held her daughter right and tried not to cry.

The women heard a knock on the door and Cersei wiped the tears away quickly and cleared her throat.

"Come in." Cersei said and the door opened to reveal Robert Baratheon, Y/N's father.

"You look so beautiful my little doe." Robert said and came over, he took her hands and took a long look at her.

Y/N blushed and smiled as her father looked down at her with such pride. He thought Lyanna was the most beautiful but at that moment, his daughter was the most beautiful thing he had seen.

"Let us go." Robert said and Cersei sighed and grabbed her veil and placed it over her. "Robb will treat you right, he's a noble man."

Cersei fought the urge to bite back but knew better than to do it. Y/N walked along her mother and father as they began to walk.

Each step they took Y/N began to fully realize she was getting married.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Many people were at the Godswood, the heart of Winterfell and where Lord Stark wanted the ceremony to be.

The tree stood beautiful before them, the faint redness of the leaves contrasted with the white snow. The birds chirped and the small murmurs of the people from Winterfell and the guests that came from Kingslanding.

Her mother parted from her reluctantly and went to where her brothers stood and Robert guided Y/N down the snowy path.

Y/N could see Robb in his bear skin cloak, his face freshly shaven and his eyes were full of emotions. Fear, admiration, and another one she couldn't figure out.

She felt her heart race as she came closer and closer to him. As Y/N and Robert came up to Robb, Robert smiled down.

"Take care of her." Robert said and walked over to his wife.

Robb looked at Y/N and he smiled, she blushed at his gaze and the Septon interrupted their eye contact.

"You may now cloak your bride and bring her under protection." The Septon said and Robb did so and placed the large cloak over her shoulders.

Robb then placed his hand on her back to bring her closer to the Septon and he continued.

"My lords and my ladies, we stand here to unite these two houses as one. Princess Y/N Baratheon and Lord Robb Stark as one flesh, one blood, and one soul."

The Septon pulled out a ribbon and grabbed both of their hands. Y/N's hands were shaking as the Septon took her hand and when Robb placed his hand on top of hers he took it gently and squeezed.

"In the sight of all who sees and in the eyes of the gods I hereby bound these two souls, binding them as one." The Septon spoke. "You may kiss your bride."

Robb looked at Y/N and leaned down to kiss her softly. When they kissed it felt strange, an unfamiliar feeling crept up and Y/N didn't know what it was but she liked it.

The feeling of his warm lips against her made her forget of everyone around them, ignoring the sounds of their cheering and screams of the houses being united.

They parted their kiss and looked at each other with bewilderment. Y/N smiled first and made Robb smile back, he kissed her left cheek softly and the both turned to the crowd in front of them.

"I present to you Lord Robb Stark and Lady Y/N Stark." The Septon spoke and everyone erupted in applause once more.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After the wedding ceremony the feast that was held afterwards was a party to remember. For once everything seemed peaceful and joyful.

Cersei was actually civil with her brother Tyrion, Robert was blinding drunk yet, and even Joffrey was not as unpleasant as usual.

Everyone cheered and praised the happy couple, giving them their blessings and kind words.

It seemed everyone was so engrossed with the feast that Robb took Y/N away from the loud noises and back to their now shared chamber.

Y/N and Robb were still in their wedding garments, Y/N was able to get her braid undone and her long hair flowed behind her back. They were both unsure of what to do, and stood in front of each other in nervousness.

"I- uh- I know this isn't- that this is-" Robb was then was cut off by Y/N.

"Strange?" Y/N said and Robb nodded and sighed in relief.

"Yes." Robb answered. "We don't have to-"

"I- I want to." Y/N said, her face turning red. "I just want you to know, I know I'm not the ideal girl you intended to marry but I want to be the best wife I can."

Robb's eyes softened at her words, she cupped his cheeks.

"I don't want to be like my mother and father." She told him. "I want to be an ally, a companion, so much more than just an alliance."

She kissed both his cheeks and he grabbed her waist and pulled her close.

"I'd like that, I want you to know that I will be an honorable man."'Robb told her and held her tight. "I know I'm not the man you wanted either but I promise you I'll treat you as an equal."

Y/N nodded and grabbed his hand and placed it on top of her shoulders and guided him to take off her dress. The world felt still and they both felt as if they couldn't breath once Y/N's dress fell on the floor.

Robb then got on his knees and kissed up her thigh, she blushed bright red and felt electricity as she felt every kiss on her thigh.

She tried to hide a moan but Robb heard her and that's what made him feel bold, snap.

Robb suddenly got up and picked her up bridal style, she squealed as he placed her on the bed.

Y/N looked up to Robb and the look in his eyes held lust. She watched as Robb moved his hands across her body and felt her body tingle and goosebumps erupted.

He placed her on the warm bed, layered with thick blankets, and the soft feel of sheep's skin.

Her long hair fell back as Robb looked down at her, his eyes filled with lust.

"Gods, you're beautiful." He said and kissed one of her breast, causing her to squirm.

He smiled while continuing to kiss her, he went up to her neck and up until he reached her lips.

She kissed him and touched his cheeks gently. As they pulled apart they put their foreheads together and both caught their breaths.

"It's going to hurt for a second, I'll be gentle I promise." Robb told her and she could feel her tummy flutter as he grabbed his cock and rubbed it through he folds, touching her clit over and over.

She felt terror rise in her chest as she awaited the pain, all her life after she gotten her maiden hood, her maids, mother, and septas told her of the pain of her wedding night.

She felt his cock slide through and she hissed, she immediately put her hand on his arm and squeezed. He stopped and saw the tears fall.

"I'm sorry." He said and kissed her cheeks and waited for her to allow him to move.

"It's alright." Y/N told him and looked up to him with glossy eyes. "You can move, love."

The nickname she gave him made his heart swell and he moved at a slow pace, he tried not to cum as he felt her warm, tight walls grip him.

She felt the uncomfortable burn of being stretched and as he continued to move, the more bearable it was. The soon burn began to make her stomach flutter, and her breath hitch.

Robb watched as her expression changed from pain to pleasure. It made Robb swell with pride as his wife felt pleasure and leaned down and kissed her as his pace didn't stop.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and gripped into his auburn curls. As they released each other from their kiss, she threw her head back with a moan.

"Please." She begged and Robb smirked, leaning down to her her ear.

"What? What do you need?" He asked tauntingly, and pulled back slowly and slammed back into her and she yelped in surprise.

"Please, don't hold back." She looked at him and touch her hand on cheek. "Fuck me."

She kissed him once more and he moaned in her mouth and obliged to her and began to fully pound into her.

He was feral, he was relentless and fully in heaven as she milked him.

"I-I'm, oh gods!" She yelled and felt her walls clamped down onto his shaft.

She felt him shudder in pleasure as his ropes of cum began to fill inside her.

"Gods, yes." He moaned and jolted as he moved his cock in and out slowly, coming down from his high.

She felt goosebumps on her arms and legs as she began to breathe heavily from her first orgasm.

Robb pulled out of her and she felt full of his seed as he collapsed beside her. She moved to her side to face him, the faint glow of the candles and fire shone on his face.

The look of happiness and content from his face made her heart swell.

"Hi." She said to him, which caused him to chuckle.

"Hi." He said and she felt her cheeks redden.

He put his hand on her hip and he could feel the goosebumps rise.

"So that was-" Robb couldn't find the words and she finished for him.

"Amazing." She said and he nodded, he leaned forward and kissed her lips softly.

"Now that you're my wife, I won't be able to get enough." He said and she shuffled closer to him and he held her in his arms. "I meant what I said."

"What?" She asked and looked up at him.

"I'd treat you as an equal, my wife and a friend." He said and Y/N laid her head on his chest. Smiling hearing those words and hearing the sound of his heart beating.

"Thank you." She said and moaned as she felt Robb touch her clit and made her squirm in his arms.

"What do you say, lady stark, another time?" He asked and felt his cum coat her thighs and smeared his cum around as lube and she could feel herself getting wet again.

"Yes, my lord." She said and Robb growled and got on top of her, she giggled as he enveloped her in his arms and kissed him.

She felt happiness in his arms, and held him close. Both of them later in the night tangled in each other and asleep together.

Both of them glad that they were husband and wife.

A/N: HOPE YOU LIKED IT!!! Ty for reading and I also wanted to add I'm doing commissions!!!! Just message me and I can show you some of my pieces or go to @ peytonmunson on insta!

[wrr000]

"like a shadow"

Summary: The ghoul you hired for protection liked you more than both of you would expect.

Warnings: english isn't my first language; really short; it's from my Cooper x oc fic, but idk if I should post chapters here; pure soft; inner thoughts; reader is similiar to Lucy

»»————-　♡　————-««

You finally made it to town. Walking thru the wasteland felt like an endless journey while burning sun was always watching every step of foolish humans, who dared to cross these lands. And it wasn't the only threat waiting for your mistep. You earned that stop to rest and gather strength. He deserved it as well.

This place was pretty civilian. By the standards of the wasteland, of course. People were trying to live a "normal" life and some constantly pretended like The Great War never happened. You didn't mind it as long as they didn't act suspicious towards you. Besides, he was here and that made you feel... safe. Kinda. Weird nonetheless.

He was the one who announced parting ways in town and you kindly agreed (like you had a choice).

"I'm goin' to check what chems they got here, think you can handle things on your own, Vaultie" - usual smirk appeared on his fucked up face.

That ghoul was driving you insane. Even after paying him for escort and protection he was still threatening you and bitching around that he actually doesn't care about you and if something big is going to happened - his life goes first, not you. But the sad truth was - you couldn't really blame him.

Ironically, someone like him turned out to be the kindest thing you met since reaching the surface. He was terriyfing, cruel and nothing alike anyone from the Vault. But as time passed, you saw something more in him, under that hard shell and feeling of fear passed. His action were still shocking to you, but wasteland has it's own rules and you started to understand that.

It wasn't a suprise that Cooper didn't want to walk around the town. You felt like he couldn't stand you. But it was fine, you kinda enjoyed exploring and discovering the town alone. Just like the good old times as a child in the Vault.

Little you knew that you had a shadow. Unaware of a pair of penetrating eyes watching your every graceful move. Your smile was the brightest on the whole planet and every small gesture was full of passion. Analizing you very carefuly. You didn't saw him, but he saw you perfectly.

It was hard for the ghoul to admit it to himself that he grew fond of you during your journey together. Very hard. Worst, poor bounty hunter realized that he had a soft spot for a stupid naive Vaultie. Thankfully, you didn't notice anything and he could suffer in silence.

You reminded him of a long gone humanity. Always kind and polite, naive as hell, delusional and annoying. You even never judged him for being a ghoul! Ohhh, how he hated you, but loved at the same time. You were like his human half, a long lost part. He knew you wouldn't last long out there, people like you never lasted long.

Cooper took this job for money of course. You offered a good amount of caps and it was equal with massive stock of chems. But now, he thougth to himself, it would be a shame if something happened to you, right? That's why he was doing an "extra" job. Always watching, even if he didn't had to, always protecting you, even if you didn't noticed it.

In a long long long time the ghoul felt like a human again. It was pissing him off, but he missed that feeling. Well, he missed his whole previous life actually, more than he would like, but you kinda started to filling that void inside his ghoulish heart. Slowly.

[badasgirl]

i’ll always cheer for you

bada lee x fem!reader

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what happens when the basketball team captain and the cheer team co-captain are in love but can’t tell anyone…

genre: fluff, minor angst (my bad), slightly suggestive if you squint (?)

warnings: reader and bada are both lesbians, slightly suggestive with a veryyy tiny makeout scene but nothing too crazy, no caps on purpose (booo ik terrible grammar).

author’s note: this was not proofread nor do i know much about basketball so please be easy on me. anyways, yayyy my first req done, thank you to @badasgirlfriend for being my first request!! this was supposed to be a quick lil imagine but i got a bit carried away 🧎‍♀️…BUT i hope this was good :3 btw reqs are still open!

word count: ~1.8k….

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒────

you and bada lee were captains of your respective sports at your university: cheerleading and basketball, granted you were a co-captain along with another girl named lusher, you were a captain nonetheless. becoming captains by your sophomore year meant you both had insane leadership skills and were talented in your fields. naturally, you both were drawn to each other and became the bestest of friends during your first year of leadership.

however it’s now your senior year and y’all are a little more than friends. last year one night after a game, both the basketball and the cheerleading team went out for expensive bbq to celebrate the win the basketball team brought home. the whole night bada kept clinging to you. she was cooking your meat, making little lettuce wraps for you, and feeding you everything. it got to the point everyone had just assumed you were already dating.

“bro when did you start dating? i cant believe i wasn’t updated.” lusher said in a jokingly hurt voice as she dramatically placed her hand over her heart to feign sadness.

“yeah i thought we were close y/n!” tatter, another cheerleader, said while pretending to cry into her fellow teammate’s, minah’s, shoulder.

you giggled softly while shaking your head at their actions. “guys please! we’re not dating, bada’s just my best friend, right honey?” you said as you turned to look at bada.

bada felt her heart twinge slightly at hearing the words “best friend”, but she quickly nodded in agreement before smiling at you and saying “right honey.”

“me personally y/n, i’d be asking bada what are we!” jj, a fellow basketball team member, joked as she stuffed her face with food.

“best friends…sure” aiki, another basketball player, replied sarcastically before chucking and saying “i don’t call my best friend honey, but yeah! for sure besties!”

everyone at the table laughs at aiki’s and jj’s comments, including you and bada. however, bada knew that night she had to confess to you. she could no longer fight her feelings for you, she wanted to kiss you and hold you close in her arms until you both fell asleep. so, she told you exactly that. you both being lesbians who are in denial of their feelings course led to reciprocated feelings neither knew about. all that mattered now was you were hers and she was yours.

───────────────────────────────────

now back to current time, you’re both seniors and it’s been a little over a year since you and bada began dating. you both became closer than ever. you did everything together, no one could separate y’all from each other. however, no one knew the truth. your relationship was kept a secret because you both decided for the sake of your sports and reputations as captains that no one could know. you both took leading a team so seriously, that neither of you wanted to have anyone think you guys were slacking off due to being in a relationship. so of course this lead to its own issues.

people would ask both of you out on dates constantly (especially you) and although you both would pay zero attention to these people, it bothered the other. bada especially hated it when men would ask you out no matter how many times you told them you were a lesbian. she wanted to scream to the world that she was your girlfriend and everyone else can fuck off, but she couldn’t.

one day it bothered her so much that some man named jongin asked you out to dinner that she couldn’t even bear to look at you because while yes she was jealous other people perceiving her girlfriend, she was even more upset she couldn’t tell these people off for you. she didn’t answer your texts, she didn’t walk you to class like usual, hell she didn’t even wave back when you waved at her in the halls. she had ignored you all day up until she saw you crying and hugging tatter in the hallway near the entrance of the building. bada immediately ran up to both of you and asked why you were crying. tatter shook her head in confusion before explaining that you just began crying once she asked about your day. bada sighed deeply and told tatter to let her handle it. tatter was skeptical at first but eventually agreed as she slowly pulled you off of her. she patted your head before leaving and let you know that she’ll text you later. once it was just you and bada, you hung your head lowly while trying to hide your sniffles. bada placed her hands on your shoulders while leaning down slightly to match your height.

“princess, what’s the matter?” bada asked softly with her voice full of concern. you looked up at her with tears streaming down your face, her heart broke on the spot. bada hated seeing you upset, she only ever wanted you to be happy.

you eventually replied through your sniffles. “why do you hate me now? is it something i did? why are you acting like i don’t exist…” you trailed off beginning to cry harder.

immediately bada’s heart broke again, she hated you being upset, but she hated you being upset because of her even more. she herself began to tear up as she pulled you into her arms and held you tightly. she soothingly rubbed your back, letting you cry into her.

“i’m so so sorry princess, i never meant to upset you. it’s just the thing with jongin bothered me so much and the fact i couldn’t do anything…” bada explained through her own tears now. you looked up at her in understanding before wrapping your arms even tighter around her, clinging to her as if she would disappear.

“i understand baby, but next time please just talk to me. i hate feeling this way, i hate us crying over misunderstandings.” you explained as you began to calm down. you pulled away from bada but then placed her hands in yours.

she looked you in your eyes, nodding in agreement before she replied with “i promise i will. let’s never cry over a MAN again.” she emphasized ‘man’ before laughing attempting to lighten the mood. you began to laugh with her while smiling up at her. god, you were so in love with this girl. nothing will ever stop your love for her.

“we should get going, practice starts soon and you know friday is the game that determines if the team goes to finals or not.” you said seriously as you began to get in your leader mindset. bada agreed with you and you both went off to practice for the very important upcoming game.

───────────────────────────────────

it was finally d-day. one of the most important games of the season began as the buzzer rang throughout the court. the basketball team was working so hard to keep the score high, needing to bag the win. the cheer team was working just as hard on the side lines making sure the basketball team could feel enough love and support to have the strength and energy to keep pushing through this game. you, lusher, tatter, minah, and the rest of the cheerleaders were screaming so loud that your throats were feeling raw. seeing bada in her element made you fall for her all over again. bada was flying across the court so naturally and with ease, scoring point after point for her team. she was constantly blocking shots from one of her opponents haechi wang. however, the opposing team was not weak. for every shot bada blocked, one was scored almost immediately after.

it was now the final 30 seconds of the game, the score was 57:57. aiki had the ball as the buzzer went off and she immediately began to dribble it. bada made the sign that she was open to aiki, she knew it had to be her who made this final shot for her team to bring them their victory. aiki saw bada and immediately made the pass. once shs got the ball, she was off. she didn’t want to let her team down, so she knew she had to put in all the effort she could. it was down to 15 seconds on the timer and bada was exactly where she needed to be to make her shot. however, she started to get nervous and overthink. but before her thoughts could take over, bada managed to hear her girlfriend from across the court yell, she heard you yell “LET’S GO BADA LEE YOU GOT THIS!”. nothing else mattered once she heard your voice. she blocked out everything except for your voice and the hoop. bada took her shot and right as the buzzer sounded, the ball went in the hoop. she had gotten a buzzer beater and scored the win for her team. it didn’t even click for her that they had won until she saw you running across the court towards her. bada smiled as you ran into her arms. she lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around her waist.

you were filled with so much happiness and pride you didn’t care anymore. right as you looked into each other’s eyes, you kissed her passionately. bada questioned absolutely nothing as she kissed you right back with just as much passion, borderline making out with you on the court. cheers from the crowd, both basketball teams, and your cheer team could be heard as all attention was now on both of you.

once you pulled away from bada’s lips, you immediately shouted out to everyone “MY GIRLFRIEND IS GOING TO NATIONALS!” bada couldn’t help but smile and giggle at your actions. the world now knew that you were dating. you could hear everyone laugh along in happiness as many people clapped for you.

“what did i sayyyy!” lusher exclaimed to her team as they all smiled and agreed.

“yo hyojin you owe me $10, i told you so” aiki said to her teammate as she held out her palm waiting for her payment.

both you and bada laughed at everyone’s actions. you both held each other close in a current state of bliss. in the end, who gives a fuck if others think you’re slacking off. you both know it’s not true and that’s all that matters.

“hey bada” you whispered to your girlfriend, still holding her close.

“yes my princess?” bada responded, her voice dripping with sweetness.

you smiled brightly as you looked into her eyes and said “just know that no matter what, i’ll always cheer for you.”

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒────

thank you so much for reading ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ - lila

[luvring]

UNIVERSITY WITH AKAASHI

gn!reader | no more posts set in high school!! time for everyone to grow up! /j

university student akaashi who you meet in an english/writing course. he stands in front of your spot and nervously fiddles with the sleeves of his jacket, hoping you notice him and look up. "um," he hesitates. "is anyone sitting next to you?"

maybe it's because he's just so pretty, but you think it's cute how he visibly relaxes when you shake your head and move to let him sit beside you.

university student akaashi who quickly becomes your go-to classmate after being paired for icebreakers and luckily exchanging contact info during your first class. you think it's too early to call him your friend, but he softly laughs at your explanation during two truths and one lie, and you hope that title will come easier by the end of the semester.

akaashi who, after a week, finally gains the courage to ask if you're busy after class today. a sequel he's been anticipating is supposed to be in stock now, and if you'd like to join him on a bookstore trip, he'd like the company. you, of course, agree, and he smiles and softly says, "thanks."

you ask him to explain the plot on your trip there and he's embarrassed, stumbling over his words and having to backtrack to explain lore, but happy nonetheless. he's going in-depth about his favourite character's development by the time you reach the store, and you don't think you'd ever have it in you to stop him from talking.

you wonder if it would be weirder if you looked for a copy of the first book yourself.

akaashi who always seems to have some sort of caffeinated drink when he walks into the afternoon class. he says he's tired by lunch time and it'll keep him awake. you nod. "what's life but treating yourself every once in a while?"

he snickers, even if he's making fun of himself when he asks, "you mean every day?"

"obviously. uni's hard, we deserve it," you tease with a nudge to his shoulder.

the next class, he's bought you a snack you mentioned enjoying. he fiddles with his straw, stirring the ice inside his cup while your face heats up. he repeats your words from a couple days before, "you deserve it."

akaashi who knows you despise the idea of peer reviews and having to read feedback. it's why you let out a breath of relief when the professor tells you you can choose your partner, and by the time you turn, keiji's already looking at you.

you quadruple check everything before sending the document, and take 30 minutes alongside coaxing texts from keiji himself before you manage to open the edited version the day after.

it takes you a second to realize, but your breath hitches when you do. he's taken the time to make a copy of his feedback with little compliments and doodles of him, like one doing a thumbs up next to a "great point :)", another clapping beside your conclusion saying "you did it :-) !", and one sitting on top of a paragraph just to make you smile.

when you thank him the next day, your face is warm, and his face is red. your eyes flicker over to him playing with the hair by his ear while he promises he'd do it again any time you needed.

akaashi who you've come to find out isn't just the quiet, pretty, smart guy in class. he's also the guy you often find yourself on call with at 11pm, hair messy and glasses drooping on his nose. he apologizes for his state and the fact that he's wearing a shirt with a sort of shitty collage of low quality cat images, and you’re barely holding in your laugh while you shake your head and reassure him it's fine.

you have to tell him to at least add something to the noodles he keeps eating during exam week, and threaten to block him when he teases you for the incoherent questions you stutter out at 1am. in return he checks on you when he sees you listening to your sad playlist, and lets you see the other shirts he's gotten over the past couple of years.

you beg him to tell you where he found the one of an english setter with "dog setter" written on it, and he asks why you want to copy him.

"i just...love your style so much, keiji. it's so bold and creative—camp, even."

and keiji laughs, really laughs, trying and failing to cover his mouth with the back of his hand. even with his smile covered, you watch his eyes crinkle and can't help but secretly raise your headphones' volume, just a little.

"yeah, okay, thanks." he laughs a little one more time. "if you do well on your exam, i'll bring it the next time we meet up so you can try it," he offers with an amused smile.

"really? you'd let me have the honour?"

keiji rolls his eyes and leans back into his chair, tilting his head while looking at you. he runs his fingers through his hair and it's really more attractive than it should be.

"yeah, of course," he promises.

it's a silly shirt, and a silly idea, but your heart rate quickens just a little at the thought of him sharing his clothes.

and keiji is glad you can't see his other hand fiddling with the bottom hem of his shirt, because secretly, he feels the same way, too.

sorry for the Blatant projection when i said u don't like reading feedback. that's actually just me. it's bad. whatever. this was actually fun OMG i love akaashi and hate uni fr . we as a community must talk abt charas in uni more. Please. for my happiness.

🏷 | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @dimslover @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired

[redeyegrl]

☆ crybaby ; jude bellingham

you were laid on the couch, your eyes fluttering due to the intense amounts of tiredness you were feeling whilst watching your favorite show on tv. you were wrapped around in your favorite blanket, head smushed onto the pillow that was laid underneath.

lately, these past few days haven't been too good for you. not only were you, yet again, bombarded with so much work, you were dealing with a lot emotionally. especially towards your best friend who currently is now in madrid playing for one of the biggest clubs ever.

you and jude have known each other for quite sometime but only remained as close friends. your friendship started with a follow on instagram which led to him flying you out to meet him for the first time. truly, you thought that you both might hit it off and actually become a couple but that conversation still hasn’t surfaced.

you didn’t want to be the first to tell him you liked him, but you also didn’t know if he felt the same way. even when he was flying you out, taking you to his favorite spots in madrid, holding your hands when you were both together in front of his teammates, to him giving you sneaky kisses late at night when you would stay over at his place. all of that and no sign of him wanting anything more than just being friends. call it a situationship if you will.

earlier today, you came across dating rumors regarding jude on social media and it made you almost completely unproductive. you couldn’t stop thinking about jude potentially being someone else’s boyfriend. after all, you knew you couldn’t control who someone decides to be with, but it always stung when you would hear his name attached to someone who wasn’t you.

your eyes slowly start to shut until you heard the annoying sound of your ringtone. "it's 2am, who the hell is calling me" you say incoherently. you rub your eyes to try and read the caller i.d, only to figure out it was jude. "what does he want" you say sitting up, slightly annoyed.

"hello" you respond in the most monotone voice possible. "well morning to you as well" jude replies, seemingly in a great mood. "it's 2am and i was trying to go to bed, if you don't have anything important to say, i would like to go back to sleep" you say in a hurry, rubbing your tired stressed eyes. "and what's up with you" jude laughs on the opposite end. "nothing jude im just tired. you know it's late over here" you slightly whine, knowing jude has the time saved of where you were living on his clock app.

"just wanted to let you know i'm up and about to head off to training" he tells you. well, he never did that before. nonetheless, you did find the reminder cute. "well, have fun then." you say before you were about to hang up.

"wait y/n, i have something to ask you" "he rushes to tell you. you on the other hand, truthfully didn't want to talk to anyone since you weren't in the mood. you already cried tons today, the last thing you needed was to talk to the one who made you so emotional.

"yeah go on" you allowed. "i beg you to tell me how you're feeling. are you alright?" he questions in soft tone. you could already feel the tears briming in your eyes, the heat of your cheeks starting to burn. "do you want the truth?" you whisper. "why would you lie to me?" he questions yet again.

"i'm not doing that great" you respond. you wanted to tell him you were okay so you could head off to bed, but something in you wanted to let him know you weren't. you started sniffling since crying always activates your sinuses. "y/n why are you crying? tell me what's wrong" he demanded delicately.

"i was online today" you say trying to collect yourself. "read some stuff that made me kinda sad" you say quietly, wiping away the lukewarm tears running down your cheeks using your hoodie wrist cuffs. "is that all? what do you mean" he questions, confused as to what you meant. "the dating rumors about you and --" you finally confessed.

all you could hear was jude's small laughs which made you want to cry even more. you had no clue what those laughs meant and you hated that him laughing was the way he would respond. "why are you laughing" you chuckle trying to hide your cries.

"y/n, i wouldn't be too worried about it" he confirms which made you feel a small bit alright. "if i was seeing anyone i would tell you, would i not?" he reminds you, which he was right about. "but what if you're hiding it from me" you pout, he giggled some more. "y/n, im not interested in anyone" he makes aware.

that statement made your heart sink. tears started to form all over again followed by your jaw slowly starting to quiver. "you mean that?" you ask him, hoping he would change his response. "i mean, those girls the media puts me with i'm not interested" he responds. "no, i mean, are you really not interested in anyone" you ask again, playing with the strings on your hoodie, starting to regret even picking up the phone.

"well there is this one girl who's always on my mind, and i sometimes still get nervous around her. she's so perfect in my eyes. she can get grumpy and she's always busy which annoys me. i would fly her over when i'd miss her, take her out to all of my favorite spots when she lands, we'd have secret rendezvous late at night, sleepovers at my house as well.. she's actually my best friend." he rambles as you can hear him walk his way to the car.

you started smiling just a little bit, your hand palming your entire face due to how giddy you were starting to feel. it was obvious he was talking about you. "well, i wonder who this great girl is" you playfully ask. jude laughs with you as well. "she's pretty. her name starts with a (-) and ends with (-)" he jokes, answering with the letters of your name.

"i really miss her too. thinking of bringing her over to me for two weeks. gonna maybe try and make her my girlfriend i don't know i don't know" he continues on with his playful antics. "wow, i think she would love that jude. shes so lucky" you play along, you both now laughing on the phone.

"so i'll see you next week?" he asks. you hum in response, now grateful you picked up the phone. "go to sleep y/n, i don't want to keep you up". you were very tired so all you could do was hum back. "one more thing before i let you go to sleep" he tells you, you put the phone on speaker and lay back down on the couch. "hmm" you respond.

"you're such a cry baby about me and i like that" he laughs.

[natsgrave]

TOLERATE IT | elizabeth olsen

While you were out building other worlds, where was I? You assume I'm fine, but what would you do if I break free and leave us in ruins? ( story inspired by @taylorswift song bcs i love her sm ) i'm not sure if someone else already wrote something like this or what, but if you see a story quite similar to this, let me know so i could give them a proper credit. thankyou!! ( colored wording would be the lyrics ) i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!! masterlist

Y/N'S POV Lizzie and I had been together for five years. We met in college, fell deeply in love, and spent countless nights talking about our dreams and aspirations. We were each other's rock, supporting each other through thick and thin.

But how can a perfect relationship turn into a toxic one where we barely talk anymore?

I sit and watch you reading with your head low

I don't know what happened. I don't know how to fix it, it that I didn't even know exist. One second we were fine then the next, we're like strangers.

All I could do is sit here and watch her read the script for her new movie. Reading with her head low and sitting far away from me, almost as if I have a disease. As if there's an invisible wall between us.

We would always sit in silence, her pretending to watch TV or read books, but the tension between us was palpable. I know she could feel my eyes on her, but she never spared me a glance. It was as if she was avoiding me intentionally.

Minutes ticked by, and I decided to make her food. After making anchovy, I gently touch her on the shoulder. She jumped, startled, and looked up to find me standing next to her, holding out a plate.

"I made you your favorite," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Anchovy toast."

Lizzie took the plate from my hand, "Thank you." she replied before looking back at the script once again.

I simply nodded and sat down where I originally sitting, and focused on my own hands folded in my lap with a sigh.

I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes close. I sit and watch you, I notice everything you do or don't do, you're so much older and wiser

I woke up around five in the morning, the sun hadn't completely risen yet, but the little lighting shone through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. My gaze fell upon my girlfriend, who lay beside me sleeping lightly. The rise and fall of her chest matched the rhythm of her breathing, a calming sight that used to bring me comfort.

As I lay in bed, I couldn't help but watch my partner, Lizzie, sleeping peacefully beside me. I stayed there, watching her for a moment and appreciate the sight before me. But despite the serenity of the scene, I still felt a pang of sadness in my heart.

Lizzie had always been a restless sleeper, constantly shifting positions throughout the night and sometimes even talking in her sleep. But tonight, she was lying completely still, her face calm and relaxed. If someone saw it, they would instantly let it go and think that she's in a deep slumber but I'm not just someone.

I know the truth.

She was pretending to be asleep and it felt like she didn't want to wake up beside me, like she is simply tolerating my presence.

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid, use my best colors for your portrait

They were small things I did for her, but meaningful nonetheless. Always wait by the door every day to greet her, to offer and show her some love and comfort after a hard day at work. I would always stand there, gazing out into the evening sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of my lover making her way home from work. It didn't matter what time it was, or how tired I am after a long day, I always made sure to be there, waiting for Lizzie.

I even took painting classes as it seemed to ease my mind. I poured all of my emotions into my painting, using every color in the palette to capture the beauty of Lizzie's face. I spent hours each day working on the portrait, trying to convey the depth of my feelings for her and I'd use my best colors for her portraits.

Lay the table with the fancy shit, and watch you tolerate it

I had always been a perfectionist when it comes to cooking and entertaining. I would always spent hours in the kitchen, preparing elaborate meals and setting beautiful tables for my lover. I would carefully select the finest ingredients, meticulously prepare each dish, and arrange the table with exquisite linens, flowers, and candles.

I'd make her favorite dishes, lay the table with best cutlery and yet again, no matter how hard I tried, she never seemed to appreciate my efforts. All Lizzie gave back were strained smiles, small and almost whispered hums, and nods in acknowledgment of my attempts, and a whisper of "thanks," as she shoveled the food into her mouth, barely taking the time to taste or savor any of it.

she seemed to simply… tolerate it.

If it's all in my head tell me now, tell me I've got it wrong somehow

Despite my best efforts to communicate openly and honestly with Lizzie, I felt like she wasn't really listening to me, and it made me feel invisible. I began to wonder if I was overthinking everything, if maybe I was the one who was misinterpreting our interactions. Maybe I was being too sensitive, too needy.

Maybe I was the one who was crazy, paranoid.

I felt so alone, so lost, and so unsure of what to do.

I know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it

I began to feel like I was living in a dream world where everything I created was invisible to everyone else. It was as if I was speaking a language that nobody understood, except for my own echoes in mind.

"Liz," I said with a trembling voice, "I've been giving everything I have to make you happy, but it feels like you don't see or appreciate it anymore. I feel taken for granted."

My choice of words caught her off guard, she paused for a moment before responding. "Y/N, I never asked you to do all these things for me. I don't need grand gestures to feel loved, I thought you knew that."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was this really what our relationship had become? A constant stream of argument and neglect?

Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized the disconnect between our expectations. I had been trying so hard to show her love in a way that I thought she would appreciate, but it had only pushed us further apart.

And it happen, I finally snapped.

I felt a surge of anger and frustration well up inside of me.

Why was I putting so much effort into something that seemed to bring her no joy? Why did I care so deeply about pleasing someone who didn't seem to care about me at all?

I knew, I couldn't keep living this way, constantly pouring my heart and soul into something that brought me nothing but pain and disappointment. I realized that no matter how much I gave, Lizzie would never truly reciprocate and still, I constantly yearn for someone who clearly did not want me.

With a heavy heart, I packed my bags. Our relationship had become toxic, with me constantly sacrificing myself for someone who didn't appreciate me. I knew it was time to leave, before I lost any more pieces of myself.

Before leaving, I took a one last look, the last thing I want to remember was the way Elizabeth used to laugh at my jokes, enjoy our food, take me out on dates. The last thing I want to remember was how she used to love my presence, and not just tolerate it.

Maybe one day someone would be enough to have their love celebrated by her.

[keravnous]

the hunter! ; tangerine x fem!reader (smut, 18+)

read pt. 1 here | read pt. 2 here | read pt. 3 here

Tangerine expected someone else - but he'll do just fine with you, too.

(Based on that one scene from the Kraven The Hunter trailer where he turns around in that chair with the loaded crossbow)

warnings: kids, this is dark; this is like the darkest version of tangerine my brain has cooked up thus far; he is a sociopath by source sooo: manipulation; dub-con/non-con, coercion, gun kink, anger issues, crying, blood, murder/injuries, daddy kink, masturbation, slight dumbification, name-calling, pet names, corruption kink, spit kink

SO I SAW THE KRAVEN THE HUNTER TRAILER AND I REALLY COULDNT HELP MYSELF

"You fucking asshole!", you scream at the top of your lungs, bursting through the large door of your husband's office. It slams back into the lock just as you come to a halt on the expensive fur carpet in the middle of the spacious room.

His chair is facing the wall, a lit cigarette slowly glimming away in the ashtray. It lights up your rage like a match to gasoline.

"I am fucking speaking to you, you fucking dickhead! Can't you keep your dirty-ass dick out of that disgusting bitch you call a secretary for one day?", you are fuming, heart racing as you stomp down with your left heel, throwing your expensive and ridiculously small purse at him, missing the chair by nearly a whole foot. It crashes into the massive painting hanging behind the desk, where it leaves a nasty cut before falling to ground uselessly.

Your husband does not react and that, oh that, that get's you going alright, makes your blood race through your veins so hard you can hear it in your ears.

"I am fucking speaking to you -- turn the fuck around you coward!", you yell, hands clutched to tight fists, your jewellery cutting into the flesh.

Slowly, comedically slowly even, the chair turns. The man sitting in it puts his feet up on the table, legs clad in an expensive navy pin-stripe as he crosses them. And that --

That is not your husband.

The man, sitting in a chair that clearly isn't his, in an office that surely doesn't belong to him, is lean and a lot more handsome than the man you so reluctantly married a few years ago. His face is expressionless, bland like piece of paper, except for the anger pooling around his eyes. He is wearing an expensive looking pin-stripe suit and his hair is neatly combed back, 70s porn stache trimmed just as carefully - the only thing that looks out of place is the blood splattered on his face like freckles, one large splatter on his left cheek.

He is also pointing a gun at you. An actual fucking gun.

"And who the fuck are you, Lady?", he says, casually, but a little irritated nonetheless.

You choke on your own tongue, backing up a little. This is not good. It has your fight or flight kicking in, muscles in your back and legs tensing up and brain going numb, fingers starting to tingle.

"Don't ya move an inch", he growls, his gun following your movement. You freeze. You wonder if he will actually shoot you. You wonder what he is doing here.

"I-, I--"

The man rolls his eyes at you - pretty, pretty eyes; blue like the sea - and huffs out an exasperated sigh.

"Fuckin' answer me." His tone sends shivers down your spine and, if you did not already do so by his gun, you now know for sure that he is not playing around.

"I-", you take a deep breath, voice shaking and thin, "I- I am Markov's wife?"

It comes out more like a question, than an answer, really. You hope it will do; you hope he is happy with what is the - for you, rather sad - truth.

Tangerine cocks an eyebrow, leans back in the leather chair, gun still pointing at you. "'S that so?"

"Y-yes", you gulp.

"Didn't know he had a wife", he mutters, more to himself, really.

Tangerine can feel how the wheels in his head start to turn - the intel didn't suggest a marriage. It genuinely surprises him - not only because people in this profession rarely have spouses - but also because the young lady in front of him is way too pretty. Angelic, even. Too good for a boastful, careless cockroach of a criminal like Markov is. And he wants her, wants to own her. Wants to take take take. He wonders just how quickly she will break.

You, in the meantime, sense an opening.

"W-what do you want? I can g-give you money", you hastily stumble over the words, anxiety crawling up your spine, "A-all of it!"

The man raises his eyebrows, snorts amused. "No, love, I don't need your money."

"A-anything, p-please - just, just", and the dam breaks, eyes tearing up as your eyes zero in on the gun, "Just please d-don't kill me."

Something in his eyes changes, a dark shadow dancing over his face, eyebrows shooting up in surprise and then he pulls back the hammer of his revolver with his thumb. Your knees buckle a little as you hear the bullet snapping in place.

"Care to say that again, eh?" - Anything for your life, really.

"P-please don't kill me", you nearly sob, voice small and quiet, and you are ready, willing to put it all in there, "Please, I am begging you, Mister. I- I don't know why you're here, this - this is one big misunderstanding, I don't know anything about my husband's business. J-just let me go, please."

He does not move. You don't want to die, you are young, you still have a life to live. Maybe you will finally file for divorce. Maybe you will buy a house in Europe. Maybe, maybe, maybe -- You don't want to die.

"Please."

Tangerine says nothing for a moment, then his lips tilt up. "Tell me, love, d'ya beg for him that prettily, too? Or 's that just f'me?"

You blink. "What?", you blurt out.

"Jus' lemme hear it again, sugar - sounded so sweet, that."

You do not know what game he is playing but you really aren't ready to die yet either, so you give in.

"Please", you beg, looking at him with big, teary eyes - the barrel of the revolver stares back, a small black hole of ultimate death -, "Please, let me live." His lips tilt up and you decide to make a move on it, catch him off-guard.

"I-I'd do anything, I give you whatever you want!", you are growing desperate now, your brain trying its hardest to come up with something that will safe your ass. And that, that has his eyebrows knotting together.

The man seems to mull it over for a short while, eyes you up and down. Your skin tingles with it, feels numb and like it is on fire at the same time. "Did ya just say Anything, love?"

"I-I did, y-yes", and your voice grows desperate, "I'd do anything - just don't kill me, please, what do you want, I'll do --"

You ramble on and Tangerine rolls his eyes at you, exhales annoyed.

"Fuckin' shut up", he growls and you do, chin quivering a little with the tears still pooling in the corners of your eyes. You blink them away, sniffling a little.

"Here's what we're gonna do, love", he smiles cooly, shows his teeth like a predator, eyes drilling into you, "We're gonna have a little fun. And once we're done, I'll let ya go. How does that sound? Agreed?"

You have a suspicion what fun means, both, painfully clear and enforced by the way his gaze wanders over your body and you gulp. You really don't have a choice now, do you?

So you can hear yourself say: "Y-yes."

"Yes --?", he lifts his gun a little, gestures with it, "C'mon be a good girl."

Your eyes widen. You are not stupid; you know what he most likely wants to hear - you have met men like him before your marriage - and despite it making your stomach tingle a little it also makes painfully clear what he is imagining as A little fun.

Your voice is small, fingers fumbling with the hem of your tweed blazer. "Y-yes, Daddy", shivers run down your spine as his eyes turn dark dark dark, gaze transfixed by you and then he barks out a mean laugh.

"Fuckin' hell", what?, "I wanted you to thank me, you dumb fuckin' thing, not be a complete 'n utter slut about it."

Shame burns on your cheeks and you scramble for words - anything to say, to excuse or justify yourself - as mortification swallows you whole, crawls up your spine and mingles with your fear, has your head swimming.

"What a poor lil' airhead ya are", he grins at you meanly, "But I like it, go 'head, keep callin' me that. Probably gets you all wet, dunnit?"

You shake your head wildly - "N-no" - bottom lip quivering a little and he knows you are lying.

And Tangerine starts to grow bored. He has been feeling quite bored for a good while - since he blew Markov's lights out to be exact. He wishes he had not done it so soon, would have rather tied him up and let him watch how he has his way with his wife. Tangerine sighs, puffs his cheeks and let’s go off a breath dramatically, looks you straight in the eye.

"Alright, listen. I just don't have all day, so ya better get going, before I pop ya too", he waves his revolver at you, "Get undressed. 'n do it slowly."

You nod - I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die - fingers brush over the first button of your blazer, as he interrupts you: "Ah ah ah, what d'ya say?"

Your eyelids flutter and your knees feel like giving in. "Y-yes, Daddy."

Tangerine hums deep in his throat. "Atta girl - now keep going."

With shaking hands, cold sweat pooling between your fingers, you start to slowly unbutton the first few buttons of your costume's blazer. It's a Chanel tweed set, since you had just been out with some friends for lunch, before one of them told you about what had she'd seen yesterday. Part of you wishes you had never left the restaurant, just shrugged it off and ordered another drink instead. You don't even know why you fight for this marriage - you never really spoke to him; he never touched you or even really looked at you - not that you minded that much. But it's losing your status, the money he brings in, that you'd miss and thus, you had grown a nice pair of manicured claws over time.

See where that got you.

Your blazer falls to the ground with a thud and Tangerine licks his lips. And that is when another part of you, very quietly at the back of your mind, is a little glad you came here. It's in his eyes mostly, a strange and unknown hunger, like an animal gone wild. And it ignites something in you, shoots pleasure straight down your loins and has your breath hitching.

No one, no one has ever looked at you like that, like he is close to dashing over the desk and swallowing you whole, eating you up and ripping you apart with razor-sharp teeth.

Your blouse follows next, as you pop open the first few buttons, pulling the thin fabric out of your short tweed skirt. It flows to the ground shortly after, leaves you in your bra, skirt, and heels. Tangerine does not give you as much as a few seconds to accommodate to being partially exposed to him, his eyes gleaming dangerously.

"Skirt's next, darlin'."

You inhale audibly through your lips and Tangerine chuckles quietly at that as you unhook the clasp on your skirt, slooowly pulling down the zipper at the side. You feel ridiculous, like a very bad caricature of a housewife stripping for her husband. It's nothing like you imagined it to be, fingers buried deep inside of you, imagining your husband to be someone else, someone prettier, someone who valued you - someone who you'd love to get dirty for. You don't feel sexy or tempting - but to him you certainly do look the part, the way your body quivers and shakes, all shy by avoiding his gaze.

The expensive tweed falls to the floor and you step out of the fabric of your clothing, pooling around your feet. You gulp, carefully looking up at him. You wonder if he likes what he sees, if it's enough for him to spare your life, to --

Tangerine's heart skips a beat, a sharp noise erupting in his ears. The lingerie you are wearing, a stunning pale-pink lace set, hugs your curves nicely and leaves nothing to the imagination - with the way your nipples poke through the bra, the string cupping your cunt, dipping a little into the cleft of your folds.

He can also see the damp patch on your lacey string and it makes his dick rock-hard, pressing against his slacks. He lifts an eyebrow, as he looks at you. "Who would've thought", and you blush, swallowing, "He married a common whore."

The humiliation burns on your cheeks, turns them red and your mouth goes dry, but there's also fresh wetness pooling between your legs at his words. Oh, you are fucked.

He reads you like an opened book, watches you shifting uncomfortably. "Say it", he whispers softly.

You swallow, licking your lips, before replying quietly: "I am a common whore - Daddy."

"That you are, darlin', aren't ya", Tangerine grins, "Get that bra off, show me what ya got."

You reach back and unclasp the soft lace, pulling the strings over your shoulders and down your arms, carelessly throwing the fabric to the side. Tangerine tilts his head a little, his eyes assessing your tits. He seems satisfied, waves his revolver at you.

"Touch yourself, I wanna see those pretty tits movin'", swallowing, your hands come up, damp with cold sweat and cup your tits, bouncing and squeezing them a little, pressing them together. You do not dare looking at him, gaze focussed on the desk instead, hands brushing over your breasts.

You just started rolling your left nipple between your index finger and thumb, gasping quietly, the slight pain and pleasure running straight between your legs as he suddenly moves. You flinch, arms immediately clutching around your exposed chest while he gets up, deliberately strolls over to you.

Maybe he is not satisfied, he surely isn't, it must've been too little, not enough he's gonna kill you, kill you, kill you --

"Such perfect fuckin' tits", he weighs his revolver in his hands, the metal of it clinking against his rings, and closes in on you. "Have ya been touched often?", the barrel of the gun hooks underneath your chin and your lift your head with it obediently, looking up at him. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, your eyes big and teary again. You don't think he's one to slip on the trigger but it still has anxiety crawling up your spine - don't kill me, don't kill me, don't kill me --

"Answer me, ya stupid twat."

You just wish he would take that fucking gun away from your face.

"N-no", you answer truthfully. The last time you had sex was literal ages ago, in your time at Harvard. Since your parents had married you off you haven't been touched by another fucking human being, assured so by the constant observation of your husband's men. He was allowed to cheat, but God forbid you had some fun. So, you had retreated to fucking yourself, lacking any physical contact, making every single time you masturbated feel shallow and incomplete. Tangerine watches the way your face changes as you reminisce.

"Oh, ya poor thing", he coos, his hand coming up to cup your cheek and you look up at him, "Bet that felt horrible, didn't it?"

And you nod, his thumb caressing your cheek and you get a first good look at him. He is really pretty. The blood looks good on him, bright red in a glooming contrast to his blue eyes. Your head swims with it a little. "How did that make ya feel, eh?"

"Lonely", you croak, before you can stop yourself, a few tears running down your cheeks, pooling between his fingers and rings.

He hums in his throat. "Bet it did", something dances across his eyes, "D'ya want someone to take care of ya? D'ya want to stop feeling so bloody lonely all the time?"

The truth behind his words runs you over like a freight train, barely leaves you wondering with how he got that about you so fast, brain erupting in a static noise.

You do. You feel lonely, locked up in a golden cage of money and bodyguards, with no one opening its door to spend some time with the little bird inside.

"Y-yeah", you whisper, blinking away the tears.

"Wanna know something, love?", and you nod, carefully, not to spook him into shooting, "I could be that person. How's that sound, eh? I could keep ya safe -"

Tangerine's hand leaves your cheek and touches your waist instead, a feather-light touch that has goosebumps spreading all over your body.

"I could touch ya -", his hand sprawls over your lower back, "'N keep you happy, get ya lots'n lots of pretty, sparkly things."

Your breath hitches, brain slowly growing mushy because - because, despite the gun underneath your chin, that does sound heavenly. It sounds easy. Painless. Better. A little exciting even.

"C'mon, how's that sound?", he coos, hand running over your back, to your side again, thumb toying with the hem of your string.

"Sounds so good, Daddy", you sigh, images of a new life, a different life flashing by.

"Mh, I know it does. I could take you with me, make ya mine. You'd love that, wouldn't ya?", his fingers dance over your abdomen, dipping lower and between your legs. His thumb presses down on the damp patch, rubs over your clit, his bracelet rustling.

And it is like your brain has completely given up, surrendering yourself to this very handsome man. But you just can't since - "I-I am married", you croak, a little helplessly, like you don't quite know what to make out of that either.

He does, anger flickering behind his eyes like someone pulled a lighter out and ignited his gaze.

Tangerine growls, the barrel of his revolver pressing against your temple roughly, thumb rubbing smaller circles over your clit through your dampened string, "You belong to me now, d'ya understand? There's nothing he can do about it, y'hear me?"

"Y-yes Daddy, I do", you whine, eyelids fluttering and small tears running down your cheeks.

"Oh, stop fuckin' crying - I can feel how wet ya little cunt's gotten, fuckin' slut", and you blink up at him, a small gasp escaping your mouth as your gazes meet through teary eyes.

You just look so fucking hot to him. Adrenaline from his kill still pumps through his veins and it makes him so so mad, his ears ringing. He feels like he is about to fucking burst and your tears only spurr him on, making something in his stomach growl, stretching its claws out.

Tangerine is too far gone already, everything tinted red red red and he just wants to lash at you, bury his teeth in your throat and end your life like that, bury his dick deep inside of you and feel you twitch around him while blood spurts from your open wound, flows from your mouth. He wants.

But you are also so very very pretty to him, tears running down your cheeks, lips plush and quivering a little and nipples hard like glass, testing his patience with the way they poke out at him.

"Or actually, don't", his lips curl up into a cold smile, "I like to see you cry, hm? Y'real pretty like this."

And you sob heavily, his words making your head swim. Pretty pretty pretty - when was the last time someone called you pretty?

"Oh, darlin'", Tangerine whispers, gun grazing your temple, thumb rubbing small and hard circles on your clit, "Don't be hurt by Daddy, hm? I don't mean to hurt ya, now do I?"

"N-no", you shake your head a little, "Di-didn't hurt m-me."

"Mhm, you are such a good girl, aren't ya? Never hurt by your new Daddy, eh?"

You shake your head again but this time, his face grows stern. "Ah ah ah, words, love. Use your words."

"N-no, y-you could never hurt me."

"Yeah, I couldn't, how could I? I can say anything to you, call you whatever I like and you would never be hurt, would ya?"

And you do not want him to be angry, do not want him to think that he could hurt you - so that he doesn't accidentally slip and does just that - and you notice that fresh tears stream down your cheeks.

"I-I wouldn't, no", you blink away the tears and Tangerine smiles at you.

"That's right. I can call you whatever I like", his thumb speeds up and you moan sweetly, "What d'ya think? Doesn't slut fit you well?"

He says it with such adoration that you cannot help but sigh, nodding. "Y-yeah, it does", you reply quietly, ready to wear it with pride.

"Alright then, slut - take that sorry excuse of a panty off."

You follow his command, shaking fingers hooking underneath the hem of your string, pulling it down slowly.

"Faster, you dumb fuckin' slut."

"Uh-huh", you mumble, nodding, and hastily shoving your string down your legs until it falls down and pools at your feet - a pretty pink on a bright fur carpet. Now, with being fully naked, you feel incredibly vulnerable.

You still wonder if he really won't hurt you. You decide that if you stick by rules, he most likely won't.

Tangerine slowly walks around you, like a predator surrounding its prey, then comes to a halt behind you. The barrel of his revolver presses against the nape of your neck and then glides over your body - down down down - cold metal against warm skin, and then he reaches around your waist. The gun grazes your abdomen and slips between your legs, barrel running cooly through your folds. And you can't hold back the moan crawling up your throat, parting your lips, has you inhaling sharply.

"Yeah, that's more like it, innit?", he rubs the cold metal along your folds, "I can fuckin' smell how wet your cunt is."

And you can hear it, too - the way your pussy squelches obscenely around the barrel, wetness dripping down your thighs. Your knees buckle as the metal rubs along your clit, has you moaning shyly.

Tangerine wraps one arm around you, holds you upright with your back pressed flush against his chest and your heartbeat starts to pick up as you feel his hard dick pressing against your ass, hotly through his slacks.

"Lift your leg, love", he whispers, moustache brushing over the shell of your ear and you comply like you are a fucking robot, and his large hand wraps around the back of your knee, holds your leg up. You mewl as the gun wanders further, barrel brushing against your hole and then dips in with barely any effort, so so slick by your juices and your breath hitches, whole body trembling as the cold metal enters you.

"O-oh", you gasp dumbly, your body sacking back against him. The barrel isn't too big, barely larger than a finger, and rather short but it still feels - good? Tangerine starts to fuck you with it slowly, moves the gun in and out of you and your head swims with the thought, that he could just pull the trigger and blow your lights out, could leave you here bleeding to death.

Your legs start to shake, anxiety and lust mingling dangerously, and in a desperate attempt for any leverage your hand shoots up, reaches back and finds the back of his neck, clutches onto it, fists the pristine white banker's collar of his shirt.

"Yeah, that feels fuckin' good, dunnit?"

"Uh-huh", you breathe, the cold metal pumping in and out of you has lust pooling your stomach and you look down to where his tattooed arm wraps around your waist, where the black sparrow and the golden bracelet vanish along your pussy - watching the way you can see the grip and trigger moving against your folds.

You should be scared, afraid of him and afraid of the gun fucking into you - but you just aren't. Lust washes over your brain, makes everything go just a little hazy, wraps you in cotton candy - hot and syrupy, sweet.

"My god - shit", you breathe, your cunt aching to be touched and you wish for the barrel to just be a bit longer, able to fuck you properly, reach the parts only his cock could - the one that's pressing against your ass hotly, pulsing through his slacks. Instead, you roll your hips once, best you can with his iron grip on your thigh, meeting the thrusts of his gun.

It has you whining, the way the cold metal presses against your hot and slick skin, throwing your head back, resting on his shoulder. Tangerine moves in, like a hungry animal, lips and stache brushing over your exposed shoulder, tickling the naked skin while his eyes wander down your body - taking in your desperate thrusts, bouncing tits and hard nipples. You are fucking hot, maybe the hottest thing he has seen in a while, hotter than the tarts he fucks sometimes.

You seem clean - innocent and virginal and it nearly makes him bust a nut thinking about you: on all fours crawling towards him, sucking his cock until your throat bruises and you are a crying mess, tied to the bedposts taking him like a good fucking personal sex doll would. He groans against your skin, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your leg.

The sound has you vibrating. It leaves you wanting, wanting to feel more, to feel full; to hear more of him, more of where that came from. You can't hold yourself back. "D-daddy", you moan, the feeling of his hard dick pressing against you and the warmth that his firm chest radiates leaving you a little dizzy, "N-need your cock."

Tangerine chuckles against your shoulders. "Oh, now you're wantin' something, eh? What about me, love? What about our little deal?"

"'S for y-you, too", you whine helplessly.

"Oh no no no", he sounds genuinely amused, presses the gun snugly against your aching cunt and your legs tremble, "Don't ya try to get me all soft 'n shit, hm? You'll lose, love, you'll lose."

His tongue darts out, licks a fat stripe over your neck, testing your sweat mingling with your expensive perfume. It takes all his willpower not bury his teeth into your soft flesh until he draws blood and life fades from your eyes.

"N-need m-more", you gasp, hole clenching around the short barrel, cunt needy and aching and squirting against his fingers and the gun in anticipation.

"Well, then -- Why don't ya show me how you got yourself off all those years, hm? Show me how to work that sweet cunt of yours", his lips brush over the nape of your neck and your knees buckle at the soft touch, "Show Daddy how to do it."

Tangerine pulls the gun out of you and you gasp, eyelids fluttering, hole clenching around nothing at the loss, wanting the friction back and he slowly puts your leg back down. His hand brushes up your thigh and waist, rests on your shoulder, presses down a little. And you turn to puddy in his hands, knees giving in and you sink down, landing on your knees with a soft thud.

The fur feels soft around your knees and you lay your head back obediently, looking up at him through hazy eyes. You can see him swallowing, licking his lips. His revolver drips with your juices.

His hand grabs your chin, slight pressure on your throat and then he moves in, rubs his crotch over the back of your head. You can feel his hard, big dick against your skull and you can't help your mind from wandering there, wondering how might he taste.

"Feel that? That's what ya fuckin' slutty behaviour does t'Daddy", he bows down, grins at you and then, without warning, spits.

You flinch as his saliva hits your face, lands across your forehead and you cheeks. His thumb spreads it out, rubs it into your skin and you moan, humiliation pooling in your stomach and shooting down between your legs.

Tangerine chuckles, straightens back up and the hand leaves your face, your throat. "Spread ya legs, I wanna see what's gonna be mine."

You comply, sitting down on your ass and planting your feet in front of you, heels digging into the soft fur. He strolls around you, makes is way back to the desk.

"'N you fuckin' whore better put on a fuckin' good show for me, too", he growls, "It's what ya want, innit? Be a good girl f'me?"

It kind of is. The part of your brain that just doesn't want to die is oddly silent. There is something else, something that buries its claws deep deep in your mind and tears and tears and tears until everything is a little mushy and your brain complies - good girl good girl good girl.

Tangerine leans against the table, crosses his feet and places his hands on the edges, gun dangling from his slender fingers. "C'mon love, ya better don't wanna keep me waiting."

You look down at yourself and a surprised gasp leaves you mouth - you are incredibly wet, thighs sticky with your own juices. You run your fingers through your folds in awe, feeling your own slick, and you moan as you brush by your clit. You need more, body and cunt aching for it and your index finger starts to rub over your clit.

Squelching sounds erupt between your legs and you mewl at the sensation, your cunt so responsive, hole fluttering and your free hand darts out, grabs the fur beneath you.

"Such a pretty fuckin' cunt ya got", and your gaze darts up at him, stomach doing a funny little flip as your eyes meet his, breath hitching in your throat.

Tangerine licks his lips, gestures with his gun. "Rub faster, I wanna hear more of ya sweet moans, slut."

You comply immediately, rubbing your clit faster and you do moan for him, gasping with the pleasure shooting through your body, igniting your nerves. You throw your head back, not waiting for his next instruction, adding a second finger, rubbing large and quick circles around your clit, hips bucking and rolling against them, heightening the sensation.

Arching your back you moan and gasp, lust swallowing you whole and taking over your brain - eradicating anything and everything despite the need to feel more more more.

"C'mon, I know you wan'it, push one in and finger yourself", and your other hand flies to your wanton pussy; index finger briefly, impatiently circling your hole before eagerly dipping in, burying itself deep in one quick thrust. You hiss, quickly exchanged by a sweet gasp as you bottom your finger out.

You start to move it in and out of you, rubbing it along your walls and you can't help but sink onto your back, mewling as it enters you deeper, slips back in more easily. You feel so so dirty, naked in nothing but your jewellery and heels with his spit across your face, but you have never felt better either.

"O-one more, please", you beg, "Please, let me have one more."

Don't you just beg so prettily? He wonders if you will beg like that when he will shove a plug up your ass and fuck your throat, stuffing your cunt with a vibrator. He wonders if you will ask for another one to fuck your ass.

Oh, he will ruin you alright. "Since you ask so nicely", he coos, "Go ahead, slut. Whatever ya need."

Pushing a second finger in, the circles you rub on your clit become smaller and faster. You moan in rhythm with your fingers thrusting into you, curling them a little. Your legs go a little limp, knees darting away from each other, giving him an even better view of your assault on your pussy, the way your slick spreads up to your thighs. Your cunt gushes around your fingers as you force them in deeper, squirts against your hand.

Tangerine watches you coming apart smugly, weighs his revolver in his hands. Who would've thought a simple gun was enough to get you to buckle, give in and surrender yourself to him?

You are his now, he will never let you got. He will keep you and train you and make you needy and dumb for no one else but him.

The thought nearly makes his chest burst with the power trip it sends him on, and he spreads his legs a little, feels his hard cock pressing against his slacks. He can't fucking wait to get in that sweet sweet cunt of yours - show you how a real man fucks his wife, fucks what belongs to him. Tangerine can see, even from where he is standing, that you are fucking tight - the way your hole stretches around your delicate fingers has him licking his lips.

He can't fucking wait to claim you.

"Yeah, I can see he never fucked you properly", Tangerine rasps, shakes his head in silent disapproval as you mewl, arching your back, "I'd take care of you, y'know? Y'want that, don't ya?"

You nod nod nod, moaning as your fingers brush over your walls, stretching you out as you scissor yourself open - thinking about how good his huge fucking dick would feel inside of you instead - your hole fluttering around your digits.

"Bet ya do, lil' slut. Daddy's gonna take real good care of ya, ya'd never ever have to think again. Jus' lemme do the thinking."

"Shit, please, yes", you moan, rocking down on your fingers, pushing a third one in. You are so so full, juices squelching around your hole and wetting your hand and the fur underneath you but it's not enough. You start to pump the in and out of you quicker, deep thrusts hitting the spot inside of you just right.

"Yeah, I'd tell you exactly what to do", Tangerine hums, "I'd be coming home and tell my little slut to bend over the fuckin' kitchen table, stuff her tight 'n needy holes, 'n what would she say?"

"I-I'd thank y-you", you nearly cry out, your whole body feeling light and shuddering at the thought.

"Mhm, atta girl - and if I put ya pretty throat on a leash? Drag ya through the house and stuff ya full of toys? What would ya say to Daddy?"

"T-thank you, Daddy", you huff, chest heaving with your rapidly approaching orgasm, legs tensing up and toes curling.

"And what would ya say when I let ya cum, slut?"

"Thank you!", you sob, the two fingers on your clit rubbing mercilessly, your other hand fucking you hard and fast.

"That's a good girl. Lemme hear it then, cum you fuckin' whore."

Your orgasm hits you like a fucking train, your cunt pushing your fingers out as you convulse around them - a high pitched chant Thank you thank you thank you falling from your lips. Your arms fall to the side uselessly as you ride your orgasm out, wave after wave of warm squirt wetting the fur, as you moan and roll your hips, leaving you breathless.

Your eyes flutter open as you hear footsteps, see him approaching. He is still holding his revolver, the outline of where his large cock is pressing angrily against his expensive trousers.

"Too sad your husband couldn't just see that, eh?", there is genuine joy marking Tangerine's features, making his bright eyes gleam.

Oh shit - that reminds you of something.

"W-where is he?", you croak, legs still shaking with your recent orgasm, body sinking into the fur.

"Oh, love", he seems to smile at you, but his eyes don't join in on his lips tilting up, "He's right 'ere, ain't he?"

He points his revolver away from you, to the side and your eyes warily follow the movement. There is nothing there except the locked closet and --

And a dark pool of something on the ground, a trail of it slooowly creeping your way over the polished floor boards. It looks like-

You stretch your arm out, fingers darting out and the index finger dipping into the liquid. It's still warm and sticky.

And red. It does not take a genius to get what it is.

Tangerine licks his lips as he watches you, how realization creeps in, changes your facial expression. You look horrified and his dick twitches at the sight.

He closes in on you, bows down over your exposed body and grabs your hand roughly, pulls it in. "Would'ya mind cleaning that up f'me, love?", and your eyelids flutter and you do, like you are on autopilot, licking your dead husband's blood from your finger.

"Mhm", Tangerine hums and you gag a little around the metallic taste, which makes his face light up. He pulls his finger from your mouth, unbuckles his belt instead. "I think, I really might just keep ya."

"Y-you said you'd let me go", you gasp as his hand dips between your legs.

"Well, love - change of plans, innit?"

[jmvore]

forbidden (1) ➻ jjk

‹ previous | next › ↳ SYNOPSIS › You never intended for any of this to happen! Thriving from the attention your step-daughter's boyfriend, you never meant for anything to go past the innocent flirting and soft-spoken comments. Jungkook, however, didn't think anything of it when he first met you but the more he got to know you, the more he knew he was falling. He knows this is wrong. You two shouldn't be sneaking around like this but once he finally gets a taste of what he truly desires, there was no turning back. › masterlist ‹

1 › SUGAR BUDDY » RATING › 18+ [M I N O R S D O N O T I N T E R A C T] » GENRE(S) › smut, angst » AU › infidelity, (sort of) college, daughter's bf » PAIRING(S) › jeon jungkook x f!reader » SIDE PAIRING(S) › jeon jungkook x min yoonji, reader x (no name)male!oc » TYPE › SERIES | 5 chapter(s) » WORD(S) › 6.6k+ » CH. SYNOPSIS › You fall into bed with Jungkook. A mistake you will ultimately regret. » SMUT WARNING(S) › sub!jungkook, domme!reader, noona!reader, college!jk (doesn't matter tbh), cheating [on both sides cause 🤷🏽], reader has nipple piercings cause 🤷🏽, dub-con, premature ejaculation, somnophilia, possessive behavior, pussy fingering, dirty talk, sexual coercion, orgasm denial, male masturbation, unprotected s*x, reader has a tattoo, & fingering [I believe that's everything]. » ORIGINAL POST DATE › 06/30/2019 » RE-POSTED DATE › 11/05/23 » A/N › Thank you @/saradika for the divider(s)! Pictures are from Pinterest!

It was a mistake for Jungkook to fall into this rabbit hole. 

The gentle smiles, the sincerity of your constant worrying, and the fact that you were someone he shouldn’t have found himself falling for.

Even your little ticks became engraved in his mind. It was a way for him to pinpoint how you were feeling in the moment. The way you’d pick at your arm when you were anxious to the way your giggles grew into fits of laughter the funnier you thought something was. 

Over time his infatuation grew deeper and stronger and with that came the depravity. The desperation to be near you became almost unbearable. 

To touch you.

To feel you.

He could go on and on but the truth is he has become obsessed with everything you did and the sad part?

You’re not even his. He’s ‘dating’ your step-daughter. He doesn't care about her. To him, she was disposable. The only really he's still here is because she's the only way to get to you. And you?

You have a… husband. A shitty one but you have one, nonetheless. He didn’t matter. The guy was a disposable piece of shit who did not deserve you.

Like his daughter.

Jungkook knew from the moment she introduced him to you that your husband does not deserve your kind soul. Your husband doesn’t deserve your love. 

To fuck you. 

Make love to you. 

He doesn’t fucking deserve you.

From the outside looking in, your husband doesn't seem to be treating you right and based on what he has heard from Yoonji. And if he’s being honest, Jungkook thinks he’s cheating too BUT that’s a discussion for another time. He notices the way you cringe away from that… filth . 

Did his touch feel tainted to you as well? Did it feel foreign? Or do you hate it as much as he hates him touching you?

Before meeting you, Jungkook had no idea what people meant when they said they were fated to meet someone. 

You weren’t the woman of his dreams or anything but there was the certain pull he had toward you. Your kindness, your unfiltered loving nature.

Jungkook doesn’t want you to give that love away.

You shouldn’t because that should belong to him. Right? 

If your husband knew the true reason why he was hanging around so much there would be so many issues. 

Good thing he doesn’t.

He tried to fight his ever growing feelings but it all came to a head the moment he stopped fighting his feelings. He saw you in a distinctive light because you were no longer just Yoonji’s stepmother. You were you. A woman he knew he would do anything and everything for. 

It’s another reason why he’s in your room kneeling by your marital bed without a care in the world. 

If anyone were to see him here in this moment, they would swear he had floating hearts swarming around his head as he gaze lovingly at your exhausted figure. 

Jungkook caresses the side of your face with the back of his hand and trails his fingers toward your dainty lips (which are currently in a pout). 

He goes soft in the way you subconsciously snuggle into his hand. 

He grins fondly.

He wants nothing more but to kiss you breathless. Show you how much better he is than that man. 

But alas…

All he can do is admire. 

Admire how beautiful you look dreaming away and currently unaware of how he’s eagerly admiring everything that is you in front of him. Your body, your face- nothing goes unnoticed.

It’s when he yanks the cover down, he groans. Almost a little too loud. 

Your body shudders from the sudden chill that runs through your body as you instinctively turn from laying on your side to your stomach. 

It’s then the clothes you're wearing catch his attention.

It’s not your usual sleepwear (he knows because he’s seen you walking around in clothes that are much tighter and scandalous )but Jungkook can appreciate it all the same. 

Ironically, you have a sleeping panda on your shirt with the words ‘ don’t bother me ’ stitched above it. A tiny crop top shirt you made into an off-the-shoulder shirt.  

The new position also gives him a very nice view of your ass. The gray booty shorts are riding up your ass because you move so much in your sleep. 

It also gives him a view of the pretty lotus flower on the back of your thigh that he’s come to love. The words ‘Always a lover, Never a fighter ’ are in cursive underneath it. 

He was amazed when you told him how and why you got it. The contrast of colors looks so pretty on your skin.

He runs his finger over it only to see your leg jerk in response. You’re so damn sensitive and loves it though, he knows he has to be careful. 

The last thing he wants is to wake you up. At least, not yet.

The more he watches you, the more his mouth waters. 

He wants to taste you but that would have to wait until your husband isn’t present. 

He probably wouldn’t be allowed in the house ever again if the two of you were caught and that’s something he doesn’t want to happen. 

Right now? 

Patience is a virtue.

Jungkook settles for your step-daughter for now. Despite the differences, he knows that if he holds out long enough, he will have his chance. He’ll make sure of it.

It doesn’t help that when he’s fucking her, he’s thinking of you. 

Your beautiful body. She doesn’t have breasts like yours. Your full lips. Your incredibly long, worshipable legs. Everything about you is to be worshiped like the Queen… the Goddess you are. 

He could go on and on about how he would take you apart piece by piece. He would make you feel and love him. He would make you want him. 

It will all happen in due time. 

For now, he’ll sit and wait for his chance to unravel everything. 

Just then Jungkook the moment the bed creaks under your husband's weight.

One opportunity occurs when your husband heads downstairs to get water.

He knows he should be in the guest room where you and Yoonji left him and he knows there’s no excuse for him to be in here but he couldn’t miss the chance to be next to you.

He gently moves you so you’re laid on your side and facing him. He climbs into your side of the bed, coming face to face as your breath tickles his neck. 

Looking at your face, you deserve so much better. You deserve him.

…And he’s prepared to give you all of him. He wants you to know that he’s right here and he’s not going anywhere. He would never do that to you. 

He shifts your leg over his hip and buries his face into your chest as his heart races at the thought of getting caught. Inhaling your natural scent mixed with the perfume you’re wearing, burning it into his memory.

As soon as he hears your husband is back, he shrinks into himself so he doesn’t get caught. Vibrating with the excitement of you being so close, he tries his best to hold still.

All he wants to do, however, is kiss you breathless. Caress your body like it deserves to be worshiped. 

Your body is so. fucking. warm. He can still lay with you like this all the time, watching you rest peacefully in his arms is a treat in itself. 

You look so stunning under the moonlight, he could have kissed you right then and there if every time he moved the bed didn’t squeak. 

He goes to kiss the top of your breast as the door creaks from your husband trying to quietly shut the door (albeit poorly).

Jungkook hopes he rolls over, falls back asleep and ignores the very visible lump next to his wife but instead, he feels a hand (that clearly isn’t yours or his) jerk you so your back is laid against your husband's chest. 

He even had the audacity to wrap his arm around your waist.

‘Fucking Dumb Ass…’ Jungkook grunts, hand twitching to peel his slimy hands off of you. Your hu- no, that filth doesn’t deserve to hold you. 

He doesn’t know if your husband has fallen asleep or not but he’s missing your warmth. 

Maybe if he knocks him out, it’ll get him to leave the two of you alone. 

(Just a thought). Jungkook shakes his head though the thought still lingers. 

Trust, if he could do it and get away with it, he would. 

He doesn’t want to rouse the man so he waits in hopes to hear his snoring soon.

Growing impatient the more he has to wait because this could be his only chance to get to touch you like he wants to. And… this ass hole is ruining it. 

It’s like he knows.

Maybe he does.

After waiting for damn near fifteen minutes, Jungkook takes another ten minutes to ensure dumb ass is asleep. 

He tears you away from your husband, wanting to push him completely off the bed but that would, more than likely, startle him awake. 

Instead, he replaces your husband’s arm with his own though he realizes he can’t move as much as he would like. As long as he can move his hand and arm, he’s fine. 

He starts to reach inside your shorts only to realize you're not wearing underwear. 

He entertains the thought of you knowing he was coming to bed with you and that you were readying yourself for him. 

Because you want him too… right?

He starts rubbing circles into your clit, hearing you gasp at the slight coldness of his touch. Your hips buck into his as if you know. Even so, he knows you don't realize it's him touching you. 

For all you know, your body thinks it’s your husband.

Oh, what he would give to be able to fuck you silly.

“Why couldn’t I have found you before you married him?” He ponders the ‘what if’, bypassing the fact that you were older than him. 

It didn’t matter though. He would still love you all the same. 

“I want you so bad I can taste it…” He picks up his pace, listening to you pant out moan after moan. 

You're clueless, unknowing of the boy who’s currently taking advantage of you. 

“So fucking hot…” He gently presses his lips to yours to test and see if you'll respond. 

His body shivers at how soft they were against him. 

He yanks the right side of your shirt down to expose your breast before gently taking your nipple into his mouth. 

You let out a faded whimper. Your mind thinks it’s your husband but in reality…

“So sweet, Noona.”

You blink awake, trying to figure out what's going on. It takes you a minute to realize it. 

As you try to wake up, your mind is in a state of disarray. 

You don’t realize who you’re looking at until you take in his wide eyes and boyish grin. Something is amiss.

You flinch but he’s quick to shush you with a kiss. The metal in his lip is cold against yours and for a second you fight with the idea of fighting him off of you. 

Remember he’s stronger than you are.

And the fact that you’re sure you would wake him up if you keep moving so much.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You grit through your teeth but he’s quick to place his hand over your mouth.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” 

“Wha-”

“I promise I won’t. Please don’t be scared, Noona.” 

He’s hesitant to lean into you but when you stop fighting, he starts to nuzzle his nose against your jaw. 

“I just want to lay with you.”

He can sense the panic written all over your face and the fact that your husband is behind you, doesn’t help either.

“W-Why?” You ask, head tilting as you’re completely bewildered at this. 

You don’t remember him ever showing you interest and even if he did. He’s dating Yoonji and you’re fucking married.

“Jun-”

“It’s you.” You wither at his answer, unsure of what he means. 

“Why?” You speak so softly, you’re unsure if Jungkook heard you.

Jungkook, on the other hand, shakes his head and you know he’s not going to tell you what you want to know.

At least, not right now. (Even if he’s elated at the turn of events) because to have a taste of you would be the sweetest treat anyone can grant him.  

He leans closer to peck you on the lips again before smiling wider. 

“We can save that talk for another time though. You were close to cumming, no?”

“We shouldn’t.”

“Why? I wanna make you feel good. Please let me! I know he’s not taking care of you.” Your breath hitches the moment you feel his lips against your pulse point, a chill running straight through your spine. 

“Fuck-” You gasp, feeling his hand move over your stomach and down to the band of your shorts. He smiles at your resistance but he knows you won’t last much longer. “Jungkook… Wait.”

“Please don’t make me. I want you so fucking bad.”

“But what about-”

Jungkook moves away from you as if your words scorched the air around you. It’s only when you bring your hand to touch his cheek that you feel his jaw clench and unclench.

“He doesn’t matter. I can make you feel so much better.”

“Jungkook. You have to realize how ridiculous this is? You’re dating my daughter.”

“And?”

“What-”

As you glare into his eyes, you realize you should have seen this coming. 

The little touches when your husband wasn’t looking. 

How he’d hold you by your waist when you were alone (which was rare). 

The kiss your cheek (something you’re sure someone wouldn’t do unless they felt something for said person). 

The little remarks he made about how he would treat you if you were his. How he would love you, please you. 

You chose to ignore all of this, thinking it was an innocent crush. He wouldn’t dare do anything.

Oh, how wrong you were.

You weren’t going to lie, Jungkook was a handsome young man but that’s what he was. A young man. You felt wrong. As if you were taking advantage of him but that’s not the case. Right?

“He doesn’t touch you like this anymore. Does he?”

You clasp your lips together to contain the whine threatening to release, knowing you can’t move around too much if you don’t want to alert your husband to what's going on. 

Eyes closed, you take a deep breath. 

Not wanting to think about much of anything as he toys with you by playing with the hem of your shorts. 

He wants to dip his fingers inside. Your pussy was so warm as he felt you getting wetter the more he played with your clit. 

He can’t wait to fill you the way you deserve, your pretty walls stretching around his cock like it should. 

He hums, pulling your leg over his hip again. He’s loving this. 

Your eyes well up with unshed tears and your irritation running rampant because what the fuck? Why were you on the verge of crying? 

You don’t have to cheat but God, your body is screaming for you to let him take care of you like he wants to.

“You cry, Noona. I just wanna take care of you,” He mutters, placing his hand on your cheek to wipe the strays away. “I want to take care of you. I want you.” He bites his bottom lip before pulling you closer by your chin. “I know you want me too.”

“Jungkook…”

“Please?”

Fuck! Why did he look so damn fine begging for it?

You take a soft breath to calm your nerves as the weight of his words hit you. It makes you feel sick to your stomach. 

“Jungkook. We can’t. You know we can’t… What about Yoonji?”

“Yoonji…” Jungkook scoffs the moment you frown, heart slamming against your chest as you want to know what the hell is going through his brain. You want to know what he’s thinking and why he’s being so damn bold all of a sudden. 

When you search his face for a crack in his facade, you don’t find one. 

“What about her?”

“She’s your girlfriend. You should be with her. N-”

“I can’t even think about being with her when you exist.” 

He presses his lips to yours again as your brain is processing what's currently happening. 

More like short circuiting.

The sensation of melting in his arms makes you pliant as he moves his lips against yours. It's hard to pinpoint your feelings.

The sensation of melting in his arms makes you pliant as he moves his lips against yours. It's hard to pinpoint your feelings

Your only awareness is the sensation of his lips against yours. You know you shouldn't kiss him back.

You should technically shove him off the bed but...

They feel so good against your own. He feels good. That you can't even deny your body the love it deserves.

A small spark grows the more you indulge in this fantasy. 

While you know it's definitely not right, the fact that he’s expressed how much he wants you makes you feel something you shouldn’t.

“Jungkook…”

“Don’t fight it.”

He gazes into your eyes, enchanted with the way you hold back the whine within your throat. 

He wants to satisfy you but also obey your every word. 

He was willing to wait for the right time, wanting to make your first time with him special. 

A simple date or two. 

Getting you alone in his place or here in your home. 

Telling you everything you want to hear and more and getting you to dump your loser husband.

The more he saw you with him, the more he grew impatient. 

“You make this so hard for me,” He whispers against your lips, brushing away your tears before grasping your hand and bringing it down to his hardening cock. It’s straining against his sweats, begging to be let free. “In more ways than one.”

“J-”

“You do this to me, Noona. I can’t even fuck her without thinking about being buried in you. It's hard not to scream your name while I’m cumming in her.” 

He ruts against your hand but you haven’t moved away either and you don’t even know why. 

And why were you getting so turned on by this? 

You’re supposed to be the adult here. 

You’re supposed to be the one to push him away, tell him no. 

Tell him how wrong this is. How fucked up it would be if either Yoonji or your husband found out.

B U T…

The thought of being touched by him and touching him was slowly clouding your judgment. 

It’s not as if you didn’t find him attractive. The moment he walked through the front door you found yourself eyeing him but you didn’t think he saw you. 

And at the end of the day, he was Yoonji’s boyfriend and you weren’t about to break up someone else's relationship. 

Even if you wanted a good fuck. 

You don’t even remember the last time you came while fucking your husband. He was losing his touch and well, you’ve been craving scratch that itch and you knew Jungkook was willing to give your body what it needed.

When Jungkook's hand travels underneath your shirt, his fingers caress your underbust and your brain completely malfunctions.

Your husband and Yoonji are long gone as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth to nip at it. 

“I can make you feel so good, Noona. I’ll be your good boy.” He whispers his promises against your lips before pressing his lips against yours again. “I can make you cum so good.”

Maybe it was the fact that you haven’t felt wanted in a while, especially by your husband in a very long time that made you want to give it. 

Or maybe it was the fact that you had this man in your bed claiming you were the one for him and that he didn’t need anyone else. 

You don’t know what it was that had you giving into his advances, you only knew that your resolve was breaking. 

And the crazy part? 

You should feel… something? Right? 

Anger. Remorse. Guilt at the fact you would be blatantly cheating on your husband while you’re lying in bed with him but right now, you feel nothing. 

And you don’t know if you would ever feel anything about it. 

Once you’re actively thinking about it you realize that maybe you have fallen out of love. But were you even in love in the first place?

Your husband barely looks at you anymore. 

You’ve tried everything you could think of to get that spark back but nothing has worked. 

You came to the conclusion that he wasn’t physically attracted to you anymore but understanding that fact hurts more than you let on. 

“Please let me touch you more, Noona?” It comes off as a question, pleading with you to give in. And you do, nodding as he’s quick to grab your waist to pull you on top of him. He caresses your bare thighs, his eyes twinkling at the sight of you straddling his hips. 

He’s dreamed of this moment and to have it come true, his heart is about to burst from the excitement.

He reaches up to pull you in for another kiss but you stop him with a finger to his lips. 

He groans. 

A little too loud for your liking but you know you have to be cautious. 

You don’t want to wake the grinch.

Though you can’t believe you’re even doing this but you allow yourself to forget. Even if it’s just for a moment. 

You forget the fact that this is your step-daughter’s boyfriend and the fact that they’ve been together for almost a year. 

You forget that you have a husband and that he’s currently present in your bed until-

“Honey?” 

“Y-Yeah? Yes, baby…?” Choking out a response, you get Jungkook to get out of the bed as you watch him blindly reach for you. You’re quicker to reach behind you to grab his hand, hoping he doesn’t wake in his quest to find you. 

“Why’re you awake?”

“Bathroom.” You chuckle, not to give away how nervous you are but he doesn’t seem to notice. He hums, pulling you to turn you around to face him so he can nuzzle his face into your breast.

“Go to sleep.”

“You too.” You clear your throat, feeling the bed dip knowing Jungkook is crawling back into it after you told him not to. You can hear your husband soft snoring, knowing he’s settling into his new position. 

(You were always amazed at how he was able to fall straight asleep).

You peel your body away from him to replace it with a pillow and wait, hoping to God he doesn’t reach over to figure out what the hell the two of you are getting up to. 

With a sigh of relief, he doesn't. 

You can breathe once he stops moving, taking the moment to shoo Jungkook out of the room. Only he doesn’t move.

“You need to go back to the guest room.” You push him toward the door but he still doesn’t budge, holding on to you tighter to prove his point.

“I’m not leaving without you.”

You sigh in frustration, knowing he is telling the truth. Nothing will stop him from having you, he's so close.

“Jungkook.” 

He matches your energy and calling your name the same way but you’re unamused and irritated.

“Go!”

“No!”

You hadn't realized he switched spots, backing you into the bedroom door and squatting to pick you up. He wraps your legs around his waist and squishes you against the door with a loud thud.

You chastise him, harshly whispering for him to put you down but he doesn’t listen. 

Instead, he’s quick to open the do and carry you kicking and screaming out of the room. 

Not literally, of course. Although you realize that you've played right into his hands. 

You can feel the tension between the two of you as you bury your face into his neck. 

He knows you need some type of relief from the teasing he subjected you to earlier and he’s going to give it to you. His patience has run thin and so has yours.

Besides, you could do without your husband's mediocre performance.

“Jungkook…” You glance down but a heavy noise startles the both of you out of your reverie. He looks to see the light shining from Yoonji’s door. 

Of course, she would be awake. It’s like they’re doing everything in their power to make sure he doesn’t get his way. 

“Ju-” He cuts you off with a kiss, pushing you to hide in the bathroom as he tells you once he closes the door to make your way to the guest room. As you nod, you wonder if it really is worth the trouble but you are sopping wet and you need relief. 

Even if it's self-help.

Jungkook is growing impatient as he watches Yoonji from the door. He watches her move about in her room, making a mental note to give her something to help her sleep next time. He cracks the door enough for him to hear you walk by before getting to work to get her to go to bed.

You know you shouldn’t be listening but you can hear the desperation in her voice when she whines for him to stay. 

She even begs him to kiss her and for a second, you feel awful for what you’re literally about to do. 

You stop in your tracks, pausing at the guest bedroom as you contemplate going back to your bedroom and just masturbating. Sighing your resolve, you turn to head back only to run right into Jungkook.

“Are you okay?” It literally took him close to ten minutes to get her to stop complaining. What happened within that time frame? “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Um-”

“What?” Jungkook panics, frantically reaching for your wrist to grasp. “Stay. Please stay, Noona. C’mon”

He’s quick to pull you toward the guest room and shut the door, spin around to pick you up before laying you down on the bed. 

His hands caress everywhere he can as he worships your body. Particularly your thighs. He wouldn’t mind his head being crushed by them while he’s eating you out. 

And your legs… 

God, what he wouldn’t do to keep them wrapped tight along his waist. 

“You can’t leave. We were just getting started. Can I?”

Despite your protests, he’s already yanked your shorts down your legs and started climbing between them with a groan. 

He can’t wait to taste you but that will have to wait for another time.  

You on your back and spread out like a full-course meal, his brain turns to mush instantly. 

“Noona…” He mewls the instant he sinks into your warmth, nails digging into the bed as your walls tighten around his cock. God, why are you so damn tight? “So sweet. So perfect for me,” He whines. 

Moments after he bottoms out, you moan, biting against your knuckle to remain silent. The last thing you need is for them to figure out where you are, what you’re doing, and who you’re doing it with. 

Jungkook, however, holds onto you for dear life as he can feel you squeeze his cock, knowing if he moves…

He’s going to cum and he doesn’t want to do that. Not yet.

He wonders if you can feel the difference between him and your husband. Is he bigger? Thicker? Longer? He wants to know but he doesn’t want to seem insecure. (In which, he’s not. He just wants the validation).

“Fuck me...” 

Instantly, Jungkook begins to curse when you run your fingers through his hair as he meets your gaze. 

You can see the lust coursing through his eyes, knowing that this gaze was for you. 

He wanted you. And right here at this moment, he has you. 

“If I had known you’d feel this amazing I would have fucked you sooner. So fucking hot.”

“Yeah? You wanna move, baby boy? We don’t have much time.” Jungkook groans at the nickname as you glance toward the door worried one of them might waltz right in. 

You don’t feel like explaining why you’re tangled up with him and you definitely don't feel like getting yourself off. 

Call it selfish. 

You don’t care because right now you’re focused on the now and that’s cumming your brains out. 

“L-Let me savor this,” he complains but you know you don't have the time. 

As he grasps the sheets around your head to ground himself, you roll your hips back into his. He wasn’t ready for you to take charge though he can’t deny that he likes it. In the end, he subconsciously goes with the rhythm. 

“You can do that another time. C’mon.” You shove against his chest as Jungkook’s heart leaps against his chest at the thought of there being a next time. “Make me feel good, baby.”

“O-Okay.” 

Jungkook starts off slow, watching as his cock enters in and then out. His brain breaks into a frenzy as after a few minutes, his soft thrusts turn into harsh pounding. It’s almost unnatural with how his hips move.

“Slow down, baby…” 

Jungkook whines his distaste. However, from the way your nose is scrunched, he knows you’re not feeling as good as he knows he can make you feel. 

You look as if you were in more pain than pleasure.

And we can’t have that, now can we?

He reaches down to stroke your clit, seeing you squirm in his hold. The way you moan his name is one of the sexiest things he’s heard. 

Not even Yoonji can compare. 

He wonders if you’ll let him record them for later.

“D-Does it feel good, now?” He’s apologetic but nervous to ask because well, he doesn’t want to disappoint on his first time. 

“Angle your hips.”

He does as he’s told, holding onto your waist as he rocks harder. Going deeper than before. It makes you gasp, covering your mouth with your hands when he hits that spot that makes your toes curl. 

A soft mewl releases as he starts to fuck you good.

“You’re so big.” 

Jungkook’s hips stutter at the praise and only takes you seconds to realize the power your praises hold over him. 

You bite your lip as you hold his gaze, finger underneath his chin. 

For the life of him, he doesn’t know when the power dynamic changed but he’s so turned on, he doesn’t care. 

He fucking loves it. 

It’s so different from the sex that he has with Yoonji but it doesn’t change how he feels. If anything, it enhances it.

“Noona…” He tries to bury his face into your neck as you grip him by his hair to yank him back. “Fuck!”

“You like that?” You ask, pussy squeezing his cock as his eyes roll to the back of his head. “Hm?”

“Y-Yes!”

“Shhh.” You smirk at his desperation. “Quiet now. You don’t want to get caught, do you?”

“N-No. Oh, f-”

You stick your fingers in his mouth to feel him sucking on them, listening to him whimper in pleasure. 

As much as you want to continue, you know if you go too long your husband will get suspicious and there’s no doubt Yoonji will be looking for him once she wakes again. 

Plus if anyone were to walk by, they would think Jungkook was masturbating or something. They wouldn’t know that it was with you but wouldn’t that would be the surprise of the century.

“So good, baby. Fucking good…” He whines, pressing his lips to your neck as he continues to fuck you harder. 

“Yeah?”

“Y-Yes. I want you all the time, Noona.”

“Mmm, that sounds like a treat.” You moan, head falling back as you rock your hips up for him to go deeper. “That’s it, baby.” You chuckle, your walls giving him a soft squeeze. He whines at the feeling, begging you to let him cum as he grips the sheets next to your head. His eyes closed, panting in an almost feverishly feral way. “Tell me… How long have you been wanting me?”

“Since she first introduced me to you. Your husband doesn’t deserve you, Noona.”

Jungkook's hips grow sloppier as time goes on and with the way you’re pushing back, he knows he won’t be able to hold on much longer.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” He gasps, massaging your belly. He wants to knock you up so bad but… He knows he can’t, not until your stupid husband is out of the picture but just thinking about you walking around, pregnant with his child. Turns him on… 

so. 

fucking. 

Much.

“You’re so good for Noona, baby. You’re doing so well. Feels so good.” You grip Jungkook’s chin to stare him right in the eyes. “Cum for me, baby.”

It’s the lust filled fire that takes over your eyes, the way your pussy grips his cock and the way whisper some of the dirtiest shit he’s ever heard into his ear with that low, seductive voice of yours. 

To be honest, you don't even have to try. 

You don’t know what you do to him.

“Fuck!” Jungkook stops before he can, “No. No… Wait…” 

Jungkook’s firm in his answer, hooking his arms underneath your legs to bend them back further. He leans over your body, leaving you face to face as he grinds into you. 

You softly gasp, feeling him go deeper than he was before. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Jungkook groans when your nails drag down his back. 

No doubt leaving red streaks in its wake. 

“Mark me, Noona.” Jungkook whines, “Let everyone know I’m yours.” 

He’s panting against your neck as he tries to hold on for much longer once you start to squeeze his dick harder. 

“I wanna make you cum first.”

“You think you deserve to make me cum?”  You’re even sassier than before and he fucking loves it. 

“I do. P-Please let me! I can show you, Noona.”

In a fit of giggles, you stroke your thumb against his lips and in return, he sucks it into his mouth. The sensation is incredibly hot and Jungkook can feel his cock throb at the feeling. 

“Ride me.” He says, blushing at the thought of watching in a very intimate state. “I-I can make you cum faster.” 

You push Jungkook onto his back, allowing him to pull you into his lap.

To him, the view is unimaginable. The way you breast hangs out of your top to the way your pussy sucks him right in as you lower yourself onto it. You toss your head back with a groan, hands stationed on his chest as his hands travel from your thighs to your ass.

“You’re so fucking perfect.”

“G-God you feels so fucking deep, baby.”

He holds his hand out to intertwine with yours and when you accept it, it makes him feel like he’s on cloud nine. Making love to you instead of a quick fuck that he just so happened to initiate.

“Use me.” 

You smirk, moving your hips with a newfound purpose. You want to give him what he wants. 

“Is that what you want?”

“Fucking yes! Please!” At this point, you’re sure the both of you can be heard but Jungkook seems to not care. It’s only when you hear a couple of timid knocks against the door that your eyes grow wide. 

You’re quick to place your hand over Jungkook’s mouth as he mirrors your expression. You can feel his heart drumming against his chest, whimpering when you try to get comfortable.

“Jungkook?” 

Of course, it’s Yoonji. You roll your eyes before leaning over to whisper in his ear.

“Answer her.”

“Yes?”

“Are you awake?”

“I-um…” Jungkook had planned to play as if he was asleep but you forced him to answer. “I was falling asleep, actually.”

“Can I come in?”

You snarl, “Did you lock the door?”

“I t-think so.” Jungkook can’t remember. “I don’t remember. I’m so sorry.”

Usually, you would find him being shy so fucking adorable but right now, you can feel your orgasm simmering in the pit of your stomach and all you want to do is cum but you also want to strangle him too. 

The doorknob rattle and both of you release the breath you were holding.

“Fuck me.” You mouth to him as he widens his eyes. 

You're glad he understands quickly. You can’t help but love how desperate he is as he rocks his hips into you. God, he's so desperate for you. 

“If you can stay quiet, I’ll let you cum.” You say in his ear and he’s quick to nod. He can feel you as you swivel your hips and lean in to whisper, “If you’re quiet enough she’ll go away.”

Jungkook holds you tight by the waist, his nails digging into your bare skin. Your pussy feels warm and wet. His cock fits perfectly inside and he doesn’t want to move. 

You snap your fingers next to his ear as he blinks, coming back to his reality. 

“Focus,” You grunt, going back to rolling your hips again. You set the pace for him to get the both of you off quicker. He even helps by licking his finger and playing with your clit.

You moan a little too loud but catch yourself before it gets louder.

You don’t know if your step daughter is still standing outside and waiting. All you know is your body feels like it’s on fire and you’re so close. 

So, so close.

And by the way Jungkook’s cock is twitching, he’s ready too. With the shuffling of feet indicating that she’s gone back to her room, you keep riding him as he bites down on the blanket on the bed to control his moans. 

Anything to take his mind off of what is going to come next.

“I’m about to cum… “ He warns and all it takes is more praise, a weak clench of your walls, and a hand full of breasts to get him to fall over the edge. 

“Did you-”

Jungkook groans, “I-I didn’t mean to! You feel so… I- fuck… I’m sorry.” His chest heaves, glancing at you like a puppy who's been kicked. Puppy eyes on a hundred, he goes to grab your hand to hold but you shake him off to get up. “Just let me-”

“It’s alright, Jungkook.”

“But…” He pouts, “Y-You haven’t cum.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay.” You lean over to kiss the corner of his lips but he soon turns his head to capture yours. The kiss is softer than it should be for the situation you’ve found yourself in and when you pull away, he frowns. You chuckle at his attitude. “Get some rest. I need to get back before he wakes up.”

“Please Noona? Let me finish you off. I promise I can. I ju-”

“Maybe next time.” Those are the last words you say before you get dressed and try to sneak back to your room.

As Jungkook lies back against the pillows, his brain goes into overdrive. He wonders when the next time will be. 

“I’ll be ready next time.” Jungkook smiles as his thoughts swirl in a dream world. 

Next time can’t come fast enough.

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[kiyoobi]

we all are small particles holding very tightly together in a very large universe • pt 1

Soulmates are given to every child when they turn five through their dreams. You were never assigned one. Growing up and coming to terms with never having a soulmate, you find another Tamaki with a similar fate and become happily engaged. What happens when you start to dream of an old classmate though, his ruby eyes and caramel scent haunting you in and out of your dreams?

ao3 link

minors dni

-(-)-

It’s him.

Your eyes meet his and you remember it all.The folds of his school uniform from years ago. His blonde hair in the wind as he blasts his way through the air, racing to be the first pro-hero on site. He stands there, watching you go through the motions. Watching you unsure of yourself, palm over your heart as it aches for him. You step forward, not sure if you’re making the choice to walk towards him or if your heart is still the one in control.

He watches with a careful expression, as if he’s known for years that he’s been the one. He watches as if he’s been waiting. Waiting for your eyes, once clouded, to look into his vermilion ones and see for yourself who he is.

Katsuki, your voice is barely above a whisper and there’s tears starting to sprout from your eyes.

His eyebrows furrow, as if he can’t tell if you’re relieved or questioning the weight of his name on your tongue.

You hold out your hand, outstretched fingers aching to brush his skin.

You okay? The palms of his hands are warm as they hold yours, and for the first time in forever,

you tell the truth.

-(-)-

The room is still dark despite the streaks of light filtering through the blinds. Your mind is foggy, the remnants of your dream withering away with each second. You blink back tears, unsure of what it was you were dreaming about now that you’ve started to wake up. Still half asleep, you mistake the man in your arms for blankets and pillows until he starts to stir awake. For a brief second, a scary moment, you forget who he is and why he’s in your bed.

“Tamaki,” you whisper. You didn’t mean to say this out loud yet he groans in reply, mistaking your answer to your own question for a greeting. “G’morning.”

“Mm,” he hums. Your arms squeeze tight around his shoulders and now that your eyes have adjusted to the dark, you can finally make out his indigo bedhead against your pillows. “Mornin’.”

You smile, ignoring the strange sadness settling inside your belly. “When did you get in? You were still working when I went to bed last night.”

Tamaki doesn’t answer for a moment and you think he’s fallen asleep until he turns onto his back. People mistake him for being thin, wiry. Yet you can feel the ropes of muscle in his arms as he pulls you in close by your waist, you can feel his broad chest and his stocky build against your soft curves. His quirk revolves around food and he’s a damn good pro-hero, a prospective top 10 hero this year, of course he ain’t skinny.

“Three,” he replies. “Stay in bed.”

“The Clash is in full swing, Tama.” You joke but you curl into his warmth nonetheless, allowing yourself the few minutes of peace before you go into work. ‘The Clash’, meaning your conflicting schedules, happens at least three times a year. A few weeks of one of you having graveyard shifts while the other keeps to the normal day-time shifts for a pro-hero. He sleepily groans again, yet Tamaki loosens his arms around you.

“When’s your shift done?” His words slur, and it takes you a moment to comprehend his question before you answer.

“I’ll be going in by then,” Tamaki sighs.

You kiss his jaw, soft and clean shaven. He still shaved after his graveyard shift last night, knowing that you prefer the feeling of his skin smooth over the prickle of a five o’clock shadow, AM or otherwise.

“Should’ve gone to my agency instead of staying with Fatgum,” you tease. Tamaki never would’ve changed agencies, and he reaffirms that with a displeased hum. A soft giggle slips out from your lips and you roll your eyes.

Your agencies aren’t that far apart, yet it’s clear that Fatgum’s is far superior than the one you’ve started at a few weeks ago. Your manager nearly quit on you when you transferred, ignoring her pleas to move somewhere that’ll help you climb the ranks instead of plateau. You waved off the questions people threw, ignoring their confusion as to why you’d ever leave such a high ranking agency for a… mediocre one. He doesn’t put up much of a fight when you start to peel away from him, stuffing his face into your pillows as you fumble around the room. The apartment is quiet when you slip on your running shoes, you sling your work bag over your shoulders before you give one last quiet goodbye to your fiancé.

-(-)-

There’s a nagging feeling that you’ve forgotten something. All day you couldn’t shake it. All day your fingers drummed against every desk and flat surface, you bounced your legs on the balls of your feet until your coworkers threw heated glares in your direction. You ignore them now, you ignore their exasperated sighs as you continue to bounce your leg while you type away your paperwork. You chew the inside of your cheek, resting your chin in your hand as you scroll through the file one last time before submitting it for review. These arrests won’t help your rank, it won’t make you popular, they won’t even make it to the front page of the Esuha Daily News let alone the fourteenth page. But it’s a good day.

You’ve made good arrests today, all without casualty. You even meal planned your fucking lunch. So why the hell are you on edge?

Of course your arrests didn’t have casualties though, they didn’t even have injuries. You barely used your quirk today.

Did you even use your quirk today?

The highest activity your watch took track of was when you took a light jog back to your agency building after capturing a runaway purse snatcher. In fact, that was the first and only time you had to use your quirk. He thought running sporadically would throw you off your balance, and maybe it would’ve for a low ranking hero. In a split second you activated your quirk and he teleported right into your arms instead of turning the corner like he had planned. You’ve been working on this trick for months, teleporting objects or people in your place but catching them halfway. Meeting them in the middle. In seconds he was in handcuffs and you left it to the police to get him into custody. You jogged back to work for lunch.

The inside of your cheek starts to bleed as anxiety gnaws inside you. Whatever it was that you had forgotten, is probably gone forever. Irritated at the realization, you sigh and decide to burn off this extra energy with a walk around the building. Tamaki is probably getting dressed by now, stuffing his hero costume into his work bag right from the dryer. He’s got a terrible habit of not folding his clothes, you both do. It’s why you invested in a wrinkle releaser spray, and you hope he’s remembered it for tonight’s shift. Civilians recognize you still, you can’t help a sense of pride and relief when their eyes brighten at the sight of you. A child stops you from your anxiety-ridden walk for a quick autograph, begging you to show them your teleportation quirk before their parent bashfully drags them away.

Your hands twitch, begging to be useful and aching to be used again. You turn the opposite away and head back to the agency.

-(-)-

I cooked u dinner!, you text Tamaki, don’t forget it. it’ll help ur shift tonight :P

Your head bowed low as you stroll down the block, your shift just ending according to the time in your phone. It’s why you don’t see him, it’s why you feel the split second heat of his body prickles against you before you activate your quirk to avoid further disaster. He stumbles in your previous spot, his cheeks pale from nausea as he leans forward (usual symptoms of being teleported without warning).

“Watch where you’re fucking going,” he spits out before straightening up. An eerie sense of dejavú washes over you as you stare back at Dynamight. His eyes haven’t been painted with eyeliner yet, and he’s carrying a gym bag over his shoulders that’s most likely holding his costume.

“Right- sorry.” You let out a laugh, not sure why you’re feeling flustered. You have work to finish before going home, a few more files to mark as “important” even though they’re technically insignificant. You have a home to go to. But his eyes are still on you. And you can’t look away. You’ve forgotten something today, and it’s nagging at you even more now than ever.

His eyebrows furrow and he watches you carefully as your thoughts race. “Shadow Step,” he greets you curtly.

“Dynamight,” you nod and give him a polite smile. Your eyes cut to the athletic compression band on his left arm, surprised to even see a kind that begins from your shoulder and ends at your fingertips. “Are you going into a shift or coming from one?”

Bakugou looks you up and down for a moment before answering, “Coming from one.” There’s an awkward pause before he clears his throat. “You look like you’ve got a long night ahead of ya.” Yeah because you haven’t fucking done anything all day and you’re bored .

“Shift just ended actually,” you smile and look behind him towards the agency building.

“You okay?” Bakugou’s words snap your attention back to him, that feeling of dejavú even stronger now.

You both stare for a moment; you, deciding on telling the truth, and him patiently waiting for you to answer or just move along.

“Yeah,” you lie. You hurry back inside the building before he can reply. He used to call me Bambi, you distantly remember. You don’t know why your heart is still racing after seeing him again.

-(-)-

For the next week, it keeps happening.

You wake up with either tears in your eyes or the ghosts of one’s still on your cheeks. Yet whatever you dreamt of is long gone, no matter how much you try to cling to the memories. Until one morning it lingers, the feeling of his hair between your fingers and the warmth of his body against yours. The smell of caramel.

The realization settles slowly, until the weight of guilt is heavy against your bones.

“Fuck,” you mutter. Out of fear, you reach behind you only to feel a cold empty bed beside you. That’s right, Tamaki is on a plane to China for a mission. He’s not going to be back for another week. You stuff your face into the soft blankets, hoping that the smell of home will dampen the heavy caramel still filtering in your mind.

You’ve never even had a real conversation with Bakugou since… ever. With the exception of last week when you inexplicably ran into him, you always saw him in passing from your years at UA. Neither of you had spoken much, maybe paired against each other’s classes for training but other than that…

Today is your day off, you give yourself the luxury of staying in bed for just a little bit longer. The warmth in your chest from your dream is finally lifting, leaving you to breathe once again.

It meant nothing. Just a random dream.

But as your day continues, you can’t get rid of the thought of him.

Why weren’t you guys ever friends? Maybe because he was a major asshole who looked down at everyone like they were a piece of shit.

You snort, shaking the very idea out of your head until a memory springs forth.

Cherry blossoms were floating in the air and the weather just started to turn warmer. It was your third year, the excitement of graduating buzzed through all your classmates and it meant that you all had trouble concentrating on courses. You had gotten in trouble for doodling during the fire quirk safety course, and was forced to stay behind to clean the classroom all by yourself before heading back to your dorms.

You bumped into Katsuki right after, both of you stunned that another student was still around the school so late that neither of you said a word just yet.

“God, Bambi, you’d think that with your stupid quirk you wouldn’t bump into anyone,” he rolls his eyes.

“Fuck, I’m sorry-! Bambi?” You instantly retract your apology, glaring as he brushes you off.

“Yeah, Bambi. Baby deer who can barely fucking walk?” His stupid smirk makes you see red, especially when he starts to step away from you. I nstead of his heavy boot meeting the ground, his face does instead when you activate your quirk. The checkered tiles don’t match now since you’ve switched their spots, but you’re cackling too loudly to care. Just as you try to leave, Katsuki’s hand grabs your ankle and trips you. It’s too quick for you to even think to use your quirk, and the smack of the tile stings.

“What the- fuck you!” You turn and snarl, his annoying little sneering frustrates you more.

“Relax, tit for tat.” Bakugou towers over you, the same hand that tripped you is now offered to help you stand. Reluctantly you take it.

You both help pick up the other’s things, his papers that flew with perfect grades and messy drawings on the tests that you finished early on. It’s quiet between you both. To be honest you were feeling awkward, wondering if maybe you are just a lowly piece of shit as you stare at Bakugou’s perfect marks. You glance at him, not wanting him to catch you marveling at how absolutely genius he is, and find him with one of your essays in his hands. His thumb traces over a messy sketch of a face, the angles harsh and the eyes sharp, but the rest was a blur.

“Soulmate?” He grumbles, his red eyes looking up at yours and you feel your insides freeze at being caught.

“Uh, no. I don’t think so. I don’t think I have one,” you mumble and take the essay from him. Morbid curiosity takes over and you ask him the same.

“Yes,” his answer surprises you. Something in your belly flips, not wanting to know why exactly that upsets you.

You didn’t expect him to have one, not with his attitude and ego. It shouldn't be surprising that he has one, it’s rare for someone to be like you: one without a soulmate. Fated to be alone. By the age of five, right around the time a child has gotten their quirk, they start to dream of their soulmate. You’ve heard of soulmates meeting in sleep, talking and laughing and holding each other in dreams. Waking up knowing they’re out there, remembering every detail of them. You didn’t get these dreams. Maybe you saw people, indistinct faces. But everyone did.

“But how do you know they're your soulmate and not just a random person your brain made up? How do you know it’s not just chemicals?”

Your friends shrugged, a dopey smile on their faces as they imagined their future partners, “You just do.”

That wasn’t helpful.

“Oh,” you replied. “Congrats.” You wanted to reach out and fix his tie and a part of you yearned to run your hands through his hair and see if it truly feels as soft as it looks. Instead you stuffed your papers into your bookbag and stood, muttering an apology for tripping him.

Bakugou looks at you and nods, “It’s fine. I was being a dick.” The sun setting outside streamed through the glass wall and washed over his cheeks, his eyes are rubies in the sunlight. “See ya around, Bambi.”

You nodded, turning away before he could first.

Almost immediately, the feeling of warmth in your chest turns to guilt. A chill runs down your spine, prickling your skin with discomfort. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters.

You’re engaged. He has a soulmate.

None of it matters. You’re happy.

You’re happy. You’re happy. You’re happy. You’re happy.

You mutter this to yourself all day. You tap the words onto your lips with your pen as you fill out endless paperwork. Today you avoid going out on patrol, not wanting to bump into him again. Nearly every time you’ve gone on patrol, you see Katsuki,- Bakugou,- Dynamite . The screams of children as they swarm towards him would catch your attention, and of course the moment you glance towards the commotion you meet his gaze. Time stands still for just a millisecond, and the vague feeling you woke up with that moment would come back like dejavu. Or you’re getting lunch, rushing towards the food stand with the older auntie who loves to squeeze your cheeks and demand you eat more, when the smell of sugar lingers for a moment before disappearing. You hate how your heart races at the smell of sugar burning, you hate that you think of his soft blond hair and his eyes, only to see the treats being sold to the families passing through. All of your shifts are so sleepy, so goddamn boring, that you never noticed the stands selling sweets like American brittle or caramel dipped apples until now.

Caramel follows you everywhere now. Or maybe it’s always been there and you just haven’t noticed. So you decide to stay inside the office, at least until Tamaki gets back from his mission and you can feel like yourself again.

I’m happy. I’m happy. I’m happy.

You stare at the photo of Tamaki and you on your desk, doing everything you can to ignore the ghost smell of caramel determined to linger around you.

-(-)-

You train harder at night. You do everything to avoid sleeping and if you do pass out, you hope to not dream. You can’t take it, seeing him instead of Tamaki. As you go through the motions of hitting the punching bag, ignoring the way your body screams for you to take a break, you nearly miss Tamaki’s call.

“I haven’t heard from you,” his voice makes your chest tighten with guilt. “How was your day?”

The same. It’s always the same. You walk and catch the occasional kid who tries to steal a phone. You sit in your office and do the mind numbing paperwork that follows. Rinse. Repeat.

It’s always the same. You hardly use your quirk, you hardly use the special moves you worked so hard on back in your high school days.

You go home to an empty apartment and an empty bed, left wondering why the hell you aren’t doing more. You go home and eat a dinner you always make for yourself and wish for once that someone else can just do it for you. You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, still brimming with energy and pent up rage, wondering why you are here. Longing for a home that doesn’t exist.

“It was fine,” you chug water in between breaths, the muscles in your arms quivering as you finally take a break.

“That’s nice,” his voice is sweet. You hate how annoyed you’re starting to feel about how compliant he is. There’s a long silence and you wonder when you both got so comfortable.

When did you get so comfortable? When did you stop trying? Why did you decide to settle for less?

That thought stops you cold. Settle for less? Did you mean your career or… Tamaki wasn’t less. He’s a good man, a brave hero, a loving partner. He took care of you. He takes care of you.

He’s never pushed you.

You both never fought, you were both so compliant.

But he loves you.

“I love you,” you say.

Tamaki keens out a shy noise, still not used to your affection even after all your years together and you smile. “I love you too.”

“I want to leave my agency,” you blurt out. “I hate it. It’s so boring.” Everything spills, the way you feel so useless each day, your dreams of being the best being swept away by his shadow, you tell Tamaki everything. Leaving out the smell of caramel that haunts you each morning.

Tamaki is quiet for a moment before responding, “We have a position.”

“You do?” You sit on the gym mat, wondering why you ever doubted your faithful fiancé, your ecstatic laughter rings through the training center.

“Yes,” Tamaki joins in on your laughter. “You’d have to start as a sidekick, really just think of it as the transition period before we get you to debut as a pro hero. But-,”

You can hear your blood rushing through your ear drums, flooding out whatever else Tamaki is saying. Start over? Can you do that, start from the beginning and rise up?

“We can even work together, it’d be- God, that’d be fantastic. I can see you more-,” Tamaki is getting excited, but all you can think of is how once again, you’ll just be overshadowed by the Suneater himself. You wonder if he can hear how hollow your voice sounds, when you tell him how great that’ll be.

A few days after the phone call at the training center, Tamaki tells you that his mission was extended and he won’t be home until the end of the month. You can’t sleep hours later after you told him goodnight, and decide to go on a run. The sound of your feet hitting the pavement helps drown out your thoughts. Lately you’ve been so preoccupied with transferring agencies as soon as Tamaki gets home, that you’ve almost forgotten your soulmate dilemma.

Almost.

You run faster to avoid thinking about it, about him. You’re totally not thinking about him, and you’re doing an excellent job not thinking about him that you run into the asshole.

“Fuck,” you barely feel the scrape on your knee before activating your quirk to save yourself. “Sorry, I-”

“You’d think that with your quirk, you wouldn’t bump into anyone, Bambi.” This time, it’s amusement and not annoyance that he says this sentence to you for a second time in your life. Kat- Dynamite holds out his hand, looking down at you with a faint smirk as you graciously take it. You activate it again, switching places so that you’re looking down at him instead.

“You’d think that with your attitude you’d be at the bottom of the popularity poll.” There’s no malice in your tone, and instead you find yourselves smiling at the other. You help him up easily before cleaning off yourself.

“You’re stronger than you look,” Bakugou compliments. Many thought that, and even had said that to you, and while most times it irks you, this time you feel pride.

“I’ve been training.” You stand taller.

“I’ve noticed.” It’s dark, but you swear the tips of his ears start to go red.

“Yeah?” You smile, and if anyone would’ve called it out, they might call it flirty. “Didn’t realize you’ve been watching.”

“Shaddup,” He laughs and crosses his arms, one still clad in the compression sleeve, the ropes of muscle more prominent in his chest and biceps. “Everyone has been noticing.”

“Really,” you cross your arms and grin. “Everyone?”

“Ever since Elf Ears fucked off on his mission, everyone has noticed you been trolling for night shifts.” He’s right of course, not that you’d freely admit to him. Your restless energy has boiled over and you’ve been picking up more shifts. Shamefully you’ve felt free.

“Not tonight, though.” Tap your shoes against the sidewalk, ready to run. Whatever confidence you had in front of him is fading quickly, and your head is dizzy with the scent of caramel and musk wafting from him.

“No.” Bakugou agrees, watching you carefully. “Not tonight.”

Electricity pulses through the space between you both, and you decide it’s time to end this interaction.

“You okay?” He asks again. The familiar pangs of distress and love floods into your chest and guilt starts to sting you at your core.

Yes. “No.”

“My shift just ended,” Bakugou says nonchalantly, shrugging. “Want to get a drink?”

No . “Yes.”

-(-)-

Drinks didn’t mean what you thought. You and Bakugou walked down the lamp lit streets in silence. A third person could walk between you both, you thought to yourself. You made sure to not pay any attention to his frame, you tried your best to not compare him to your fiancé. All day you haven’t heard from Tamaki, not that you expected him to contact you during a mission. But as you and Katsuki walk to get drinks, you realize it’s the first time in months that you haven’t been riddled with anxiety over your partner.

“This isn’t a bar,” you step through the tea shop and give Katsuki a passing look.

“Never said it was, Bambi.” Your heart flutters at the nickname, yet you don’t give any of it away as you look around the tea shop. His eyes watch you taking it in, the decor that’s been outdated for about thirty years already and the countless porcelain tea cups being reflected by the hanging lights. “Pick a cup, then pick a tea.” Katsuki grabs a ceramic yunomi painted with the colors of a sunset. You bite back a smile, remembering how much he favored the color orange back in school. Not much has changed.

“Hōchija, please.” He sets his cup down and gives a polite nod to the younger boy behind the wooden counter.

Your eyes scan across the once white now faded yellow menu, “May I get the sencha please?”

It’s quiet aside from the music playing the top 100 over the speakers, and then both of you take a seat at the bar. The younger barista hums while measuring out the dried tea leaves, the two of you doing your best to ignore the warmth from your shoulders touching lightly. A few minutes pass and your yunomi is handed back filled with hot tea, it’s heat spreads across the palm of your hand and you ignore the way it stings. It’s delicious.

“This is amazing,” you give a smile to your barista and he bows his head with a shy smile. “How did you hear about this place?”

Bakugou sets his tea back down and you catch the smell of charcoal, vaguely you wonder if it’s the remnants of his shift and you inch closer. “My pops would take me here,” Katsuki’s voice is low and you lean in to catch his words. “It’s the only damned place that we went to that didn’t involve someone screaming at each other. He told me once, ‘Katsuki-chan every cup you drink is one drink closer, I hope, to calming the fuck down.’” Your snort is sudden and loud, and while you struggle to keep your laughter down, you miss the way Katsuki smiles at you before taking another sip of his tea.

“Did it work?” You smile at him, not wanting to think about your chest warming and deciding it’s from the tea.

“I think so.” He answers truthfully, this time he glares when you laugh. “What?” Bakugou sets his tea cup down almost too roughly on the wooden counter, and you notice the same compression band on his left arm still.

Shaking your head and holding your hands up to your defense, you giggle. “The amount of articles I’ve read of the ‘Great Dynamite Hero’-,” your fingers mine the air quotes, “-having his blowouts. It’s hilarious.”

“Didn’t realize you were keeping track of me.” Your eyes look up and find that his are already tracing your features, the curve of your jaw and the tip of your nose. How long have you been this close to him? Close enough to see that he hasn’t slept in a while and close enough to briefly wonder if his lips would taste like burned sugar too.

“I haven’t been. You’re usually on the front page,” your voice wobbles and you shift farther from him. “Tamaki and I like to read the paper together.” At the sound of your fiancé’s name, Bakugou gives a slight nod and shifts back too. Your fingers ghost over your ring. You catch him looking at the silver band briefly. Subconsciously you wish you haven’t said anything at all, and you swipe your thumb over your ring.

The conversation dies, and when Bakugou pays, you go home to try and sleep.

-(-)-

“What happened to your soulmate?” You ask Tamaki, who has gotten back from his trip now, over breakfast. You watch his face wince, the pain of her loss still stinging even after decades. Shame takes its place quickly over the jealousy you feel for him, to have someone you love so much that every piece of you belongs to them and them you.

“She… died. In a car accident.” Tamaki picks at his pancakes, doused in maple syrup. “When we were five.”

Shame burns hotter for you now. “That young?” Tamaki nods, taking a bite of the breakfast he made for you both. “You must’ve barely met her by that point.”

He smiles sadly, “She used to be in my class with Mirio and I. At first, I thought I was just having dreams about school. I used to beg my parents to not send me to bed, I would get hives just thinking about school being in my dreams again.”

“How did you know she was your soulmate?” You think back to all the times in your life that you’ve asked this question. To your partners over the years who didn’t have their soulmates anymore or tried to cheat the system. The friends you had who swore to be single but fate gave them an emptiness to be filled by their love.

And now him. When you and Tamaki started dating, you had the talk with him. The talk you had with everyone. You don’t have a soulmate. You won’t be fatefully theirs, they won’t be yours. If you have an assigned soulmate, please don’t waste my time. The way he looked when you said this, the immensable sadness that washed over his features before giving you a small smile. His words were simple, enough to end the topic and enough to scare you from asking more. Well, good thing I don’t have a soulmate anymore.

“We talked for hours in our dreams,” he sighs at the memory. “I learned things about her that I couldn’t have known if I didn't actually talk to her, so it was pretty much solid. Mirio didn’t meet his soulmate in real life until after high school, they both decided to wait and then exchange numbers. He couldn’t stop jumping and cheering when he heard their voice on the receiver,” Tamaki laughs and looks back at you with a melancholy smile. “You also just know. It’s like suddenly, your body just isn’t yours. It feels like you’re being pulled to them and as much as you want to escape, you can’t run. You don’t want to.”

“What was her name?”

He pauses. “Shinju.” There’s a softness in his voice you haven’t heard before, and you wonder what Tamaki’s life would’ve been like if his soulmate hadn’t died. Maybe they’d even be heroes together, fighting villains side by side with an unspeakable bond that no one could penetrate. He wouldn’t have a partner who would settle for less out of fear of being let go for someone else. He wouldn’t have someone who is a shell of who they are, destined to-

Destined for what?

You don’t know what destiny has for you anymore. Before you were destined to be alone. But now Katuski appears in your dreams, sitting under fruit trees that you always wanted to have in your backyard, never facing you. Or he's by the ocean with waves softly crashing in front of him, warm sand underneath you both.

Before, you accepted that you would be alone. You refused for anyone to tell you that you must feel empty inside, for how else can anyone live without a beloved fucking soulmate? You told them to go fuck themselves, you proved them wrong by becoming a pro-hero despite having no natural goddamn cheerleader and you did it with a beaming ass smile and the ego that weighed more than what All Might could bench.

You were fine. You were happy.

Until you made yourself small.

You aren’t empty inside. You’ve made yourself small.

Tamaki was dreamy, he was shy and dreamy and sweet and romantic in all of his awkward ways. You allowed your light to be diminished under his shadow.

Because eventually, all those people pitying you for being so alone, got to you. You’re human after all, isn’t it normal to feel melancholy when you see a couple laughing and holding hands? Isn’t it normal to wish to have someone love all of you, imperfections included? Isn’t it normal to want to have somebody be there for you? Isn’t it normal to not want to go to bed and wonder what it is like to have someone hold you? You weren’t as tough as you thought. You felt like you let down those people you met in forums for those without soulmates, the civilians and heroes who never was bestowed a soulmate who said “Fuck them, I’m my own person” and never even wanted to date. They were complete because they had family, friends, a career, sexy one night stands. They could rely on themselves and no one else.

You don’t know where you fall anymore.

-(-)-