#also to answer that first bit; i turned 18 only a few months ago so i am a tiny baby boy with very little alcohol experience

[hueseok]

( 16. ) A LOVER’S KISS.

a friends with benefits relationship never ends on a good note. unless, both parties are not dumb fucks who find themselves falling for each other along the way of their agreement, of course.

and in yours and jeongguk’s case, you should have known better than to think the two of you would be an exception to the so-called curse of being friends with benefits with someone you already hold dear to you, since not even five months since it was agreed upon—the line between being only friends and being a little like lovers only continue to get hazier and hazier.

━ jeongguk x reader ━ 4.1k words. ━ 18+ ━ smut | angst | fluff | friends with benefits au | idiots to lovers au | college au | yearning? pining? | ft. swimmer!jeongguk, editor-in-chief!reader (small appearances from swimmer!jimin & associate editor!taehyung) ━ warning/s: swearing

note. no smut for this part, but i’m keeping the rating 18+ and have the smut label above since this drabble series overall isn’t suitable for minors !!

[ chapter index. ]

EPISODE 16. the one with a lover’s kiss !

jeongguk couldn’t sleep the night before the competition.

it’s not the first time this happened, of course. one can guess that he should be used to it at this point due to the nerves and the pressure and his desire to do great for the sake of the university’s reputation and for his own reputation as well (and maybe because of the expectations of his coach too who often wasn’t that kind in order to push him to the farthest of his limits). 

however, as made apparent by you before you attended class earlier, he didn’t just have the game to keep in mind for tomorrow, no—because as you have explained to him and cruelly reiterated when he called you a few minutes ago just for the purpose of hearing your voice before he tried to sleep—tomorrow was also going to be the day in which you were going to tell him your decision on whether you were willing to fully take him back again or not after the whirlwind of events that happened to your relationship these past weeks.

he wanted to believe that he had a good chance in winning you back; he wanted to confidently say that there was perhaps no way you would reject him, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up too high either. god knows how much that could hurt once you give him your answer and it turns out to be the opposite of what he was guessing. though a part of him was already convinced that surely, you wouldn’t have entertained his sweet gestures this week since making up if it wasn’t going to lead to you taking him back, right?

right? 

you possibly couldn’t be that brutal.

though in your defense, he didn’t think he had the right to be angry if leading him on was your plan all along. truth be told, he has been both intentionally and unintentionally brutal to you before to have the nerve to complain, that if you were going to take this opportunity to get the revenge you wanted, then he should just be a man about it and accept it the way it is.

***

“i don’t see her.”

jeongguk couldn’t breathe. he took a dramatic inhale to calm himself and regulate his heartbeat. “anywhere? you don’t see her with the guys and just—somewhere in the bleachers, maybe?”

“nope.” jimin glanced at him. “why? is ____ not coming? haven’t you two made up already? don’t tell me you did something stupid again.”

“we’re fine.” he rolled his eyes, slightly unsettled by his own statement. “it’s just important that she’s here.”

“yeah, i know, she’s your lucky charm, blah blah blah.”

“it’s not that.” jeongguk huffed. “well, it’s a part of it, but it’s bigger than that. is it wrong for me to want to try and find her before the competition begins?”

“yeah, coach would kill you if he doesn’t find you here when he arrives, so i advise you to just chill and be patient. maybe she’s just running a bit late.”

“yeah, you’re right. i’m just paranoid, am i?”

“what are you even exactly paranoid about?” jimin asked.

jeongguk frowned. talking about it out loud made it too real, and he preferred not to do it because of that, but he figured that he should at least tell someone about it if he wanted more insight perhaps. at least jimin has been a far better partner to yebin than jeongguk ever was to you to not be the person suitable to talk about this with. “she said if she doesn’t attend, that means she’s dumping me.”

jimin’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. “really? i never thought ____ had it in her.”

“she made it clear that she’s not going to see me anymore if i don’t see her today. i’m practically on the verge of death right now—or the start of my emo boy era.”

 jimin snorted. “didn’t you already go through that phase?”

“no, i haven’t.”

“yeah, you have. you’ve been moping for a few solid weeks when you and her weren’t okay. can’t say that you don’t deserve it. after what you did, you realize that it’s fair for her to play you around a bit, right?”

jeongguk wanted to strangle jimin sometimes because of his bluntness and desire to always tease the hell out of the people he’s close with (which unfortunately included jeongguk). but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that it was good to have a friend like him who could slap the facts in your face in order for you to see the truth and the implication of your actions—and be sometimes funny with it, for that matter.

“is it really?” jeongguk asked.

“well… i mean, it is in a way that you should see how lucky you are that you’re going to get your answer straight away. if i was her, i would have dragged this winning her back thing for a whole year before dropping the bomb that maybe we should just stay friends.”

“you seriously can’t be that cruel, jimin.”

“i could be, if someone really fucked me up.” he laughed. “but ____ isn’t like that. and i know she has strong feelings for you too. so maybe the best course of action now is to just trust what she decides for the both of you and live with it.”

this wasn’t the pep talk that jeongguk was expecting to receive before the tournament.

“and what am i supposed to do if she doesn’t come and that means we’re really over?” he questioned again.

jimin sighed. “then i guess you just have to go back to your emo tendencies and move on.”

***

the first time jeongguk personally asked if you could go to one of his matches, you and him weren’t secretly sleeping with each other yet. you were still in that weird phase of being great friends when you have the rest of the gang with you, but suddenly being really quiet and awkward with each other when it was just you two. he never even thought of inviting you alone when it came to his scheduled races, believing that he was doing the both of you a favor by not putting yourselves in a situation wherein you and him will just fall back to the usual cringeworthy interactions that will lead him physically wincing whenever he remembered them.

but that time, you overheard his conversation with taehyung who was apologizing that he couldn’t come for his match that weekend because of a project he needed to work on, and jeongguk, upon hearing him explain, visibly expressed his disappointment at the news because he wanted a friend to be there just so they could take a proper picture and video for him that he could look back after (if it wasn’t mentioned yet, jeongguk was obsessed with always doing a better performance than his last).

“i can go,” you volunteered before, your eyes focused still on the monitor inside the campus publication office but your ears were paying attention to them. “i’m free this saturday.”

jeongguk looked at you afterwards with a look that showed absolute hesitance. he was thankful that you weren’t peering at him to notice. “oh. you sure, ____? i wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“it’s fine.” you flickered your gaze to him. “though, if you don’t want me to be there, that’s totally okay too—”

“what? don’t be ridiculous.” a very very awkward chuckle tumbled out of jeongguk’s lips, one that taehyung furrowed his eyebrows at because of how fake it sounded. “why wouldn’t i want you to be there? of course you can come. i’d be really glad if you do.”

he didn’t know what response he was expecting, but you grinned, nodding in an skeptical manner, and then returned to what you were doing like nothing happened. jeongguk decided to face taehyung again afterwards, the latter staring at him with a similar dubious yet funny look, but he punched his arm and opted to flee from the office, muttering that he was going to be late for class if he stayed any longer.

fast forward to when the tournament came and he finished first place, he was ecstatic, brimming with pride because of his accomplishment—and when he met you outside the locker room to thank you for really coming and taking shots of him that he would review that night, he was a bit startled when you congratulated him with a tight hug, not used to that kind of affection from you.

sure, he always knew you were sweet to your close friends. you were like that to goeun, taehyung, and haru.

to him, though? that was the first.

“i’m so proud of you, guk!” you told him, the smile on your face so bright that he thought he might have to squint to look at you properly. “this is your first win of the season, right?”

jeongguk nodded. “yeah, i think it is.”

from that point forward, things weren’t so awkward between the both of you. your friendship solidified further when he asked if you wanted to help him with something at his uncle’s newly built restaurant, and you agreed, recognizing the same newfound comfort he was beginning to feel that you were eager to foster it more because it didn’t sit right with you how you were alright with everyone else and yet weird with him.

now, he didn’t want to think of the possibility of things being like that again. he barely survived not talking to you that much during the soomi fiasco and the period wherein he purposely avoided you to not cause any more damage than he had after the confrontation. it was one of the driving forces why he made up his mind in truly pursuing you—the realization that he wasn’t fond of the idea of not being able to talk to you every single day, of not being able to tell you the most random things and be certain that you would always know what to say next.

entering the natatorium, jeongguk didn’t appear as if he was hiding the fact that he was searching for you among the crowd. he already quickly spotted taehyung, haru, and goeun at their spot (you weren’t there), and then he tried searching for yebin, hoping that you decided to accompany her instead this time to create some kind of suspense (you still weren’t there when he saw her). so, all he could do after was let his eyes explore the whole venue as fast as he could, his heart hammering harder at every instance he failed to find you.

was this going to be the end of it all?

were you not coming?

was yesterday the final moment he got to hold you?

“guk,” his coach abruptly called his attention, “take your jacket off. it’s about to start,” he said, noticing jeongguk’s stiff posture as he stood there at the starting platform, immobile while the other players he was competing against were already removing their clothes.

jeongguk took one long scan again.

he still couldn’t see you.

and although he has yet to dive into the water, it felt as if he lost the ability to swim and was drowning to the bottom of the pool.

***

“congratulations!”

jeongguk could at least afford them a genuine smile as taehyung, haru, and goeun pulled him for a group hug. they simultaneously and continuously patted his back, the two boys doing it in a harsh manner to annoy the hell out of him that jeongguk had to groan and shove them off to prevent them from doing further damage to his aching body, though not without laughing and muttering his thanks for both being here and congratulating him.

“you did great back there,” haru said with a proud grin. “you’re definitely going to be the cover of the next issue again with the victory. i doubt i have to get ____’s approval just to make that happen.”

at the mention of your name, jeongguk’s attempt to seem fine crumbled a little. it didn’t go ignored by the rest of the gang with him; although they weren’t aware of the deal you and jeongguk had, they could understand that your absence today meant that something was wrong.

goeun cleared her throat, the silence insufferable that she couldn’t resist finally speaking up. “well, uh, haru mentioned that he’s also treating us today.” she placed an arm around haru’s shoulders, tiptoeing and struggling in the process. “right, ru?”

haru glanced at her. “i am?”

“you are.” taehyung chimed in, linking his arms with haru as if to lock him in. “you said you would if jeongguk wins first place.”

“i did?” haru’s tone remained confused.

jeongguk had to chuckle at their dumb effort to lighten the mood again. it was obvious that no conversation which involved haru saying that he was going to treat them later if jeongguk indeed won occurred. 

“don’t worry,” jeongguk said to haru, “i already messaged my uncle about the win and he’s gonna cook for us at the restaurant.”

“thank god.” haru exhaled a relieved breath. “because i do not have enough money right now to pay for all of us.” he glared at goeun.

“sorry, but someone had to say something,” she muttered.

“and you thought saying that i was going to treat everybody was the perfect thing to mention?” asked haru.

her shoulders lifted up in a shrug. “you’re the most generous out of us three.”

“no, he’s not,” taehyung butted in, “i think that title goes to me.”

“is it?” goeun asked. “you’re probably the most frugal of us all.”

“sensible is the right term for that,” defended taehyung.

jeongguk was about to join in the banter, to divert the teasing towards taehyung more as some sort of payback for the back slaps he got earlier, but just as he was opening his mouth to get a sentence out, he saw you coming into view.

you were here.

you came.

but you were late. what did that mean?

“____,” jeongguk breathed out.

the group automatically shut up, whirling around to see where jeongguk was staring at.

he was very much tempted to run to you, but his knees stayed put, somehow frozen in place. a part of him perhaps knew that talking to you immediately might be the wrong choice. he was afraid that the reason why you arrived late today was because you were still planning to reject him, that you were just being nice about it by doing it in person instead of text—but that was more cruel, in his opinion. he rather you don’t see his face when give him the news that you’re not willing to be with him again.

“hey,” you said, looking directly at him before diverting your attention to the rest of the crew. “you guys mind if guk and i speak alone?”

a pause.

“yeah, it’s cool.” haru was the first one to say, followed by taehyung, and then goeun.

“thanks.” you smiled.

they awkwardly shuffled and made their way to the exit of the locker room. they gave one last look to jeongguk just as they disappeared into the hallway, as if they were wishing him luck or reassuring him that everything was going to be okay, and looked at you too, as if they were sending a similar message that translated more into ‘please don’t break his heart or else this friend group might turn weird’.

when they were gone and definitely out of earshot, jeongguk finally had the courage to take a step forward. “____,” your name tumbled out of his lips again, “what are you—”

“i told you so,” you cut him off. you were going to lead this conversation, you made that mental note to yourself earlier prior to leaving your place, and you were going to say everything you had to say to him that maybe you never had the courage to do so in the past. “you didn’t need me here to win.”

he frowned. “winning is the last thing on my mind today, honestly.”

“that’s not a good mindset for an athlete.”

“it isn’t.”

you pursed your lips. “still, you won.”

“i guess, i did, huh?”

“without me there too.”

“yeah, you already said so.” although he didn’t appear resentful, he sounded bitter. “are you going to keep repeating that because you want to prove that even without you, i’ll be okay?”

“that wasn’t my intention.”

“then what is your intention exactly? i thought you said that if you didn’t come today, then that would mean that you’re not willing to give me a second chance.”

“and yet… i’m here, guk.”

he raised his eyebrows. “you are, but you were… you’re late.”

“because i chickened out.”

“you chickened out?”

you moved forward and sat on the empty bench across him. it was a lot easier to pour your heart out when doing that was only done through your imagination. “i was supposed to be here earlier. it’s just, uh, i… i’ve been—i’ve been stalling.”

it was true. you were adamant last night that you were going to give him a second chance. you were confident that for the past few days, regardless of how short the span was, jeongguk managed to prove to you that he was serious in wanting to commit to a real relationship with you. you saw that in the manner he always looked after you, in the manner he made time for you, in the manner he didn’t shy away from showing you affection when he felt like it—you were convinced that even though he never said it out loud, he really liked you, because the things he did… you were positive that you didn’t just do that to someone you didn’t like.

but you were also really fucking scared. it dawned to you last night (while you were overthinking everything and talking to yourself) that it indeed hasn’t been that long and that you were being too easy again for jeongguk; you were laying yourself out to him without him struggling that much. and why? because you loved him, of course. because you were afraid that if you prolonged this, he would give up and you were going to be alone and hurt once more.

“hey.” jeongguk placed his hands over yours as he knelt in front of you, hair wet and expression sincere; you didn’t notice him walk towards where you were, you were too preoccupied in your thoughts again to catch it. “you don’t have to…” he struggled with what he was going to say, mostly because it wasn’t what he wanted to happen, “you don’t have to give me a second chance if you’re not up for it.”

“really?”

his heart dropped. it was only a hypothetical statement; he didn’t expect you to bite the idea.

“um…” he tried to speak, realizing that acting like a martyr isn’t part of his portfolio, but he was willing to act one right now to not make this harder for you. “i mean… it’ll suck ass, and i’ll probably cry for months, and i’ll beg you first not to date anyone else while we’re still studying in the same university—but after that, after i stop being a big baby about it,  i’ll…”

“you’ll what?” you were waiting for what he was going to tell you next. the corners of your mouth were turned slightly upwards at the hint of playfulness in his tone.

he scooted closer to you. fuck his knee; the high probability of it being bruised if he stays kneeled on the ground was the least of his worries. “i’ll stay by your side and i’ll try harder until you get tired of me. it’s what i told you the other day, didn’t i? i won’t ask you to be gentle with my feelings—i’ll let you torture me and walk me around like a dog. i’ll follow you wherever you’ll go, just patiently waiting ‘til you decide i’m worth your time. i’ll let you hurt my feelings, ____, because between us two, i know that it’s my heart that deserves a pretty good beating.”

you snorted at how dramatic his speech sounded. “hurting you is far from what i want. i’m not that sadistic.”

“then what is it that you want?”

“you.”

jeongguk couldn’t stop the smile from conquering his features. he got the answer he wanted to hear. “i want you too.”

“i don’t mean that in a horny way, okay?” you quickly clarified and he had the strength now to laugh. “i want you to be here for me—all the time—is what i mean. i want you to continue being my best friend, and i also want you to kiss me whenever you feel like it. i want you to annoy the shit out of me, i want you to hug me, i want you to volunteer to do the most random stuff just to help me, and i want you to keep proving that you want us to work, guk. i want you to always remind me that it’s safe to let my guard down and give you my 100% all the time.”

“i’ll do that, if that’s what you want,” he promised. “you can trust me, babe. you can even exceed that 100% and make it 200 or a thousand—” your laughter echoed in the locker room.

jeongguk joined you, laughing as well, but as he did, it was also sinking in that what happened between the both of you left a huge mark that made it difficult for you to trust him. he couldn’t blame you, no, not after what he did, and he was eager to change that. he was optimistic that he could do that—because he knew it inside him that he has strong feelings for you. he could even say that he loved you and it would feel right.

“i’m sorry for being late,” you said.

he shook his head. “don’t be. i kind of deserved it.”

“well, you’re not wrong.”

“wow. you’re not a sadist, huh?”

you snickered; jeongguk grinned. he thought that he could stay in this moment forever, just you and him staring at each other, this unexplainable yet gooey feeling in your chests making it seem like everything was going to turn out fine.

and then he asked, “can i kiss you?”

your eyebrows rose. you remembered the last time he asked you that, when you were both in the middle of sex and you were hesitant to grant him that kiss because you were afraid of the repercussions that would soon come after once you did. yet, thinking more about the moment, he didn’t really ask you before, really; it was more like a demand, a plea, and it was different from what he was doing right now because despite appearing like he could beg just to get that kiss, it was still so sincere and was done out of—

love.

love? he hasn’t said that out loud before. you didn’t want to assume. but the way he was gazing at you…

you placed your palms on his cheeks while he didn’t hesitate in extending his arms so that they were circled around your waist, pulling you closer that unconsciously caused you to open your legs to make space for his upper body. 

“doesn’t your knee hurt?” you whispered.

jeongguk pressed his lips together. “it’s tolerable.”

there you were again, with that infectious laugh, leading jeongguk to be tempted further to just kiss you without waiting for an answer. “okay, guk.”

he gave you a questioning look.

you rolled your eyes. “yeah. you can kiss me. but if you do...” you trailed, “that would mean that you’re taking the lucky opportunity of being my boyfriend.”

“i’ll make sure to thank you every day for that wonderful honor.” he allowed himself to push forward and kiss your lips. it was what he was dying to do for the past week; it wasn’t enough that he was only close to you or had the permission to hug you every now and then—his body craved to have you close, not in a manner that was horny like disclaimed just seconds ago too, but for all the reasons that you illustrated as well. 

kissing you gave him the signal that you were close. and god, did he always want you close.

“i’ll be better,” he murmured, kissing you continously. “i’ll treat you better, ____.”

you didn’t answer. you just smiled and kissed him further.

when for the past months, having your mouth on his was the thing you had to avoid the most, finally having the liberty to do it now just drove you to do it over and over again.

note. hehe surprise? this update took so long that i think it took two whole damn years before i got the motivation to write again and finish this 😭 apologies for that lmao. life has been a whirlwind but since i'm now in a much happier state, i decided to try continuing this and i'm glad that it ended up with me finally concluding the story :D

honestly, i'm not too sure if got the vibes / essence of the story still since i haven't touched this mini series in such a long time. nonetheless, i did reread it and i hope that i brought justice to what you might have thought the ending was going to be! (also, i might edit this later on for improvement bc i just realized that my writing perhaps did not improve lmao but for now, this is what i can only offer >.<)

as always, THANK YOU FOR READING & FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED ! ♡(ˆ‿ˆԅ)

taglist (1/3): @fan-ati--c @marknee @sexymenandcuteanimals101 @jiminisnotavirgin @joondala @afangirllikeme-blog @jxxvk @this-is-seriousbusinesz @swga-ficrecs @apollukee @bloopkook @jaerisdiction @thisartemisnevermisses @koolvrr @wearenot7withu @brilliantmoon7 @naturules @betysotelo18 @jinyoungie0922 @codeinebelle @minimoni7 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @moonchild1 @taeshuworld @daydreambrliever @lilyflowerguk @rjsmochii @namjeonii @drownforryou @sugapiie @emeriroth @xius-exos @sw33tnight @lunaoceanchild @outropjmm @dojacandy @brit97 @abyjil @haruharux23 @haniiii @callmejimmeo @itsalyssa15 @hinawariinoue97 @libra04 @gukkmoans (striked means tumblr won’t let me tag them!)

[potatoplace]

Omega Needs - chapter 1

Feyre x Tamlin, eventual Feyre x Rhys

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Series Masterlist

Story Summary: Feyre presented as an omega after being changed into a high fae Under the Mountain. Her heats have been hellish, and Tamlin has neglected certain aspects of her presentation. After the disastrous wedding ceremony, how will Feyre’s omega handle being away from her Alpha?

Words: ~1.3k

Warnings: smut, A/B/O dynamics/knotting

Author’s note: sooo it’s my first time writing in quite a bit. Like. Years. Also my first time writing smut, so apologies if it’s bad. But @acotar-omegaverse-week got me in the mood to write again finally, and tbh I’ve loved a/b/o for a long time and it’s just. Perfect in acotar. So yeah. Not written for any particular day, Written for day 2: turning up the heat, and just setting up the story a bit in this. Also I wrote this in one sitting and haven’t proofread… oops… and don’t know where exactly this is going.

18+ only

---

Feyre was upset. But she didn’t know why.

She had gone into heat for the first time nine months ago. In the days leading up to it, she hadn’t felt safe sleeping in such an open space, so she had created fluffy mound of pillows and blankets to surround all sides of her bed. That had helped soothe her anxieties a bit. But not enough.

She had even snuck a few of Tamlin’s shirts from his clothes bin, not feeling the slightest bit embarrassed about it when the added presence of his scent calmed her down and allowed her to sleep with only a few nightmares.

But then the cramping started. And the heat licking up her spine had been unbearable. Even a cold bath had only helped abate the fire for a few short minutes and she gave up and dragged herself back into her bed.

Tamlin had shown up a few hours later, tossing the pillows and fabrics at the end of the bed onto the ground as he eyed Feyre with a predatory glint in his eyes.

“Pretty omega,” he crooned, slowly getting on the bed, covering her naked body with his. “Did you need some help from your alpha?”

Feyre had whined, tugging at his shirt weakly, needing to feel his skin on hers, knowing it would help with the fire in her blood. “Please alpha, touch me,” she said, her voice breathless as she sucked in his scent.

Tamlin chuckled, pulling his shirt off over his head and throwing it to the side, Feyre’s eyes tracking where it landed, marking it for later. “I only have a couple of hours I can spare today, omega. I wish you’d told me you were nesting, I would have cleared my schedule in advance.” He paused, loosing a long breath into her neck, her answering breath in sharp and needy. He chuckled, pressing hard kisses to the side of her throat before sucking gently on her scent gland.

“Since you didn’t tell me, I won’t be able to help you much these first few days, omega.” More placating to her neck as she whined again. “I’ll have Lucien push anything after tomorrow, but maybe two days without your alpha’s knot will keep you from making that mistake again, hmm?” He finally, finally, placed a kiss on her mouth. And then her breasts. Then stomach.

She sighed a hum of agreement, just happy to finally have her alpha giving her the attention she needed, and threaded her hands into his hair, trying to push him lower with her remaining strength. He chuckled against her skin, before lapping up some of the slick that had been steadily leaking from her since this afternoon.

“Alpha,” Feyre whimpered, shifting her hips up into her face. “Need more. Please.” Tamlin smirked at her from between her thighs, his mouth gleaming with her slick.

“Need my knot, sweet omega?” A vigorous head shake later and Tamlin had shucked off his pants and lined up his cock with her cunt. “Good. I’m going to fill up this cunt, breed you full of pups. Would you like that omega?” Another head nod, tears forming at the edges of her eyes from the sheer need for him in that moment. He flashed another smirk at her, thrusting into her in one motion, pushing the air out of her lungs.

The stretch of him normally burned even when he went slow, but today? He fit perfectly in her, slick easing his way into her. As he pulled back, she sucked another breath in, preparing for the brutal pace she hoped he would set.

She wasn’t disappointed, the fast movements of his hips sending ice cold pleasure up her spine, and within minutes his knot had begun to catch in her, sending her into a blissful state, only thrown further in once his knot had locked him inside entirely, and he was spilling his seed deep inside her.

Finally, the heat had left her body.

Tamlin had rolled them to their sides, arms wrapped loosely around her. They sat in the quiet for a while, before his knot loosened and he pulled out of her, leaving her empty, and heat almost immediately started building in her abdomen again. A small whimper left her, and she tried to sit up to watch what Tamlin was doing, but collapsed back into her bed, only managing to angle her head in his direction.

He had already pulled his pants back on, and had moved to grab his shirt off the floor before looking at the fabrics lining the eyes of her bed. He pulled one of his shirts out from it, wrinkling his nose at it before dropping it. “Really Feyre? Stealing my clothes? Don’t do that anymore.”

Feyre frowned, not sure what was so wrong with it. “But your scent-”

“I don’t care omega, don’t steal my clothes anymore,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument as he put his shirt back on. “Anyways, I have a meeting I have to go to, I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t leave your room, I’ll have Alis or Ianthe come up in a bit to check on you.”

Tears filled Feyre’s eyes at the thought of being alone, or worse yet with Ianthe, in this state. “Alpha, please don’t leave,” she begged, managing to push herself onto her knees in the middle of her bed as something inside of her panicked.

Tamlin looked back at her, already with his hand on the doorknob. “Oh, omega,” he sighed, “I already told you this would happen. Just think of it lie a punishment for not telling me you were nesting when you started,” he said coldly, opening the door and shutting it behind him, the sound of it latching breaking the dam on her tears as she fell back into her bed- no, nest.

The rest of her heat had passed in a cramp filled haze, Tamlin stopping in when he had the time, but never for longer than it took for his knot to deflate. She remembered him saying something about his schedule, but couldn’t think of exactly what.

But that was over. The next two heats, three months apart each, had gone fine, though she woke up alone during most days which hurt the part of her that she’d figured out was her omega. She wanted to wake up in his arms, knowing he was there to help if the heat got too unbearable. But that had only happened two days total in her first three heats, in the year since she had been high fae. Not that he wouldn’t burst through her door in the middle of the night if he had a nightmare about her death again. Why he didn’t just sleep in her room, she didn’t know.

But today, that doesn’t matter. Today is her wedding day.

Today is her wedding day, yet Feyre is angry.

She is angry about her dress. The obnoxiously poofy, overly resembling-a-cupcake dress was horribly itchy on her skin, and is just ridiculous and not her at all. Her hair has been teased into a fluffy, curly mess with so many pins she just knows her head will be aching all day.

And her omega? Well, she is pissed about the fact her alpha still hadn’t but her scent gland, marking her as his forever, and he refused to answer why. And, well, her nest hadn’t had any of Tamlin’s scent in it besides what he left behind during her heats, as he wouldn’t let her take his clothes since her first one. She had been more on edge after every heat, and nearing them as well because of the lack of him.

Today is her wedding day, and she’s hoping that after today, during her next heat in a few days, Tam will give her the mating mark her omega is craving. Because if not… she feels she might go insane.

[tenjiiku]

how long does it take to fall in love? / 18+

sequel to the first snow

Everything seems to be easier in Rin’s head these days. At least, that is what you have told him. He never understands what you say half of the time, but perhaps that is exactly why he has extended his stay in Japan. 

“Has anyone ever told you you look like you are perpetually plotting something?” 

Your tender voice brings him out of his reverie. Rin finds himself sitting across from you in a train heading from Tokyo to Osaka. It is late June and though summers in Ginza are busy and ruthless, the train is barren and light. The view from the window is nice — it was why both of you had chosen this seating arrangement in the first place. Rin wanted to be near you and the sunlight: two entities he did not ever believe to be possible of wanting, months ago. 

Times are changing. You told him this the day you quit your part-time job. He mocked you for it, so maybe amongst being a perpetual suspicious person — he is also a hypocrite. Suddenly the thought of him at sixteen despising who he has become crosses his mind. The idea does not bother Rin as much as it thought it would. If anything, it brings the opposite effect of relief.

“What?” He asks, because he does not have any clue what you are talking about. But, you look pretty in your light blue beret and plaid skirt to match. Though, the latter is a bit too short for Rin’s mental fortitude. Really, you had no business wearing such a thing. It was not needed, but it was appreciated. 

You had pretty legs.

Rin shakes his head at his perverse thoughts. He thinks you notice because your mouth lifts up into a half smirk. 

You click your tongue, a small hand gently tracing your chin. Rin sees you smile and feels his head grow hot. “See, that is my point.” 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

You don’t answer him outrightly. Instead, you turn the moment the train envelops a scenic view of long pine trees and bushes, and an opening reveals a multicoloured painting in the sky. Your eyes shine, Rin holds his breath. 

“Itoshi-san,” you whisper, “It’s a rainbow.” 

Rin gazes at your side profile for a few more moments before turning his sight to the window. His features soften at the sight of, indeed, a rainbow beaming across the parted clouds. They have begun to part after a presumably long shower, which makes Rin question out loud. 

“Why has it been raining? It’s 30°C.” 

You laugh, which makes him feel small and a bit embarrassed for no reason. 

“You know, there is a proverb about rain: ‘it is only a problem if you do not want to get wet’,” turning your face back to him, you look mischievous and attentive, making Rin pay you his entire mind, “So you should be happy. Chiyo-san gets into a rather difficult mood when it is too hot.” 

Right. The two of you are heading to your childhood friend’s book-store and home. Rin had asked you why not take him to your parent’s or brothers’ home, and you had teased him for approximately twelve minutes before he had grown too warm and threatened to leave your small apartment. You only had to touch his wrist to disarm him and make him sit by your kotatsu again. Then, you had told him quietly and even a bit diffidently that you’d rather he meet Chiyo-san, as she had taken you in when you left home for the first time at fourteen after your parent’s divorce. Rin had only a diminutive grasp of your past and character, so when you had let that slip he did not hold it to you, and agreed to meet you at 10:30 at Ginza Central Station with a small bag packed with enough clothes for three nights. 

Maybe if he met Chiyo-san, and he met the home you spent nearly half your life in, you would let him understand you. Rin never thought he would want this yet, to this extent. 

Times are changing after all. 

“Your shoes will get wet,” Rin chastises you, hiding his face with his hands and looking out the window from the second story of the train.

You lift a foot, clad in a delicate Mary Jane flat and brush the small sliver of skin Rin’s khakis show at his ankle. Rin jumps, the smallest bit, and grits his teeth at the gentle yet deliberately teasing touch. Rin knows this action would not hold a candle to any taunt you would have given him. 

He thinks you know this, too, because for the rest of the ride, your foot remains — persistently reminding him you are here, next to him, across from him, everywhere around him — all the time. 

.

.

.

You reach your friend’s, Chiyo’s, town home rather slowly. You told Rin it was alright if you came a little late, that Chiyo was not one for arriving on time either.

So you took your time, renting a bicycle and enjoying the scenery. It was a bit unflattering, a six foot something man sitting behind on the seat while a boisterous woman was peddling the two of them around small stores in a local shopping district. Rin feels a bit lightheaded when he realises you grew up in this neighbourhood, you roamed these streets with who knew how many people — and it does not help when you keep reciting stories of your youth as you pass by diners and boutiques you used to frequent with your friends. 

Rin itches to ask about any past relationships, but he is quick to register how intrusive and utterly out of place that would come from.

So, as you sit in a diner across from one another, waiting for your fries and milkshakes, he asks a less ridiculous question. 

“Why did you move in with Chiyo at such a young age?” 

You look up from the colourful menu to Rin. Your eyes light up a little, then dim — as though to contain your amusement. 

“Ah, technically I moved in with her and her mother, Auntie Terada,” You correct. Rin puts his right cheek on his right hand. 

You gaze down with a solemn grin, “You know, Rin-chan, when things grow difficult I have the tendency to shut down. It has only happened once or twice in my life, but confrontation makes me feel… apathetic.” 

“When my parents split, I hadn’t the slightest idea how to fix it. I’d tried to keep them together by being small and easy, but it did not work. Mama could be nice sometimes, but she worried too much about making my life into something she’d want for herself. Papa was nice almost never, and I never wanted to try to understand him.” 

“So I told mama I wanted to leave, and she let me,” your eyes crinkle, either out of memory or of sad happiness. Rin cannot really tell, “I think she knew she had it coming.” 

Rin does not know what to say. So you add on with a full smile, “I was never too close with my grandparents like my brothers were, so Chiyo-san insisted I could stay at her place.” 

Your milkshakes arrive promptly, and for a moment attention is taken off him. Rin digests everything you have fed him. He would not have asked such a thing in a damn all-day breakfast diner if he knew what it entailed. You never wore your feelings on your sleeve, so it was hard for him to navigate himself without tripping a few times. 

As you are sipping your vanilla milkshake and picking the single cherry sitting atop it, Rin wraps his hand around his chilled glass and looks away. 

“I’m sorry…,” he murmurs. 

You blink. “What for?”

“That… must have been hard. I’m sorry.” 

You dismiss Rin’s concern with a hum, lips still around the milkshake straw. He grins a little at the sight. 

“Water under the bridge,” You shake your hands, to signify that you really do not mind.

Rin feels his lips open and close. He does not know what to say. Even though his relationship with his parents was cumbersome at best and tumultuous at worst, it was to his own accord. He could not comprehend how you became the person you were today; soft, sweet, kind, despite such circumstances. How could you look at anyone and trust them after your mother had let you go without putting up so much of a fight? 

You seem to sense his apprehension, because after you finish nibbling on the cherry coated in sugar syrup, you tell him,  “I did not tell you all of this so you could pity me, Itoshi-san.” 

Rin folds his hands together abruptly, feeling red-faced that he was so easily caught. But, he should have known better. Hiding things from you was a near impossible task. On one hand he liked that, because it meant less work for him to explain his complex emotions. On the other hand, it meant he was played for a fool every time. 

The latter would have upset him a decade ago. Your voice rings in the back of his mind like a darling reminder. 

“Then why?” He asks.

To this, you do not answer. You finish the rest of your milkshake with a small smile, eyes shining with thought. Rin follows your actions, drinking the rest of his. You place a couple of bills on the tray and stand up. Rin sits, gazing at you, as you place your hands on your hips.

“Come on, it’s almost seven. Chiyo-chan must also be expecting us by now.” 

.

.

Chiyo Yamada was your childhood friend. The two of you were tied to the bone in elementary school when she pushed the boy who refused to give you your pencil case back in the mud, and ever since, an unbreakable bond formed between you both. She was a few months your senior, and as both a sign of admiration and to annoy her, you referred to her solely as:

“Chiyo-san!” 

Rin knocks his back against yours when you come to an abrupt stop on the bicycle. He grunts when you break, and you are already running towards a girl standing outside a quaint book and antique store when he is only half way off his seat. Rin takes his helmet off and hooks it to the front of the bicycle. He watches you envelop the taller woman in an unequivocal bear hug, and he awkwardly pockets his hands in his pants as her gaze travels to him momentarily, before returning to the top of your head. 

“Geez, you’re getting taller,” The woman, Chiyo, Rin presumes, utters. Her voice is deep and smooth, and she carries herself with a refined maturity. 

Still sheepishly holding onto your shoulders, Chiyo looks to Rin. Her eyes hold a sense of familiar camaraderie. She nods at him, so Rin thinks she has realised his presence. 

“Hey,” he murmurs quietly. 

Chiyo doesn’t answer him. You do. Stepping away from her, your eyes widen with realisation. You back into a puddle, which Rin watches with amusement. He supposes that should serve as an equal punishment for almost knocking him off the bicycle earlier. 

“Oh, Chiyo-san, this is Itoshi Rin. We’ve been hanging out. I told you, you remember?” 

“Yeah,” Chiyo hums, still looking at Rin. He looks away to the side for a moment, bending his hands in his pockets, “I know who he is.” 

Rin flushes at the prospect. Wonderful. 

“How was New Zealand?” She asks. Rin should not be surprised, but still is. It was a small world he lived in, and utterly ironic. 

Everyone around you knew who he was — except you. 

“Cool,” Rin answers, “Nice lakes.” 

Chiyo nods once more with understanding. Then, she brings the two of you inside. The book store itself is clustered and rather small for how much inventory is presented. Whatever area is not covered by shelves filled with novels of all genres, lamps, old cassettes, and physical records of classics cover them. Chiyo leads the two of you — or, mostly Rin, considering you coo at the familiar setting and leave him behind — to a set of spiral stairs that lead up to a locked door. 

Chiyo’s apartment is quaint yet substantial for who it is for. The kitchen and general living room seem to be fused into one square area, which is the apartment itself. There is a small round coffee table in the middle of the room, and all of her electronic appliances seem to form a parish of some sort, gathered around an old television screen. If Rin looks close enough, he can spot a few strewn beer cans here and there, but the natural lighting from the one set of quadruple windows shines a pleasant dew into the room, on the tatami flooring. Enough for him to ignore the small things, at least. 

“Chiyo-san, you’ve been cleaning…” Your voice is in awe. 

Rin looks down beside him, watching as you take your shoes off and walk further into the room. He follows after you, not saying a word. 

Chiyo hums, taking her coat off and tossing it onto the rack behind the door. Rin, like the elephant in the room, awkwardly stands between you both. Although his size is something he was never conscious about he wishes he could be small enough to hide under that ridiculous beret you wear. Especially when his head threatens to hit the roof of your childhood home. 

“Yeah, well, there’s some kid next door who’s been helping around. Think he likes me or something,”

You grab onto Rin’s arm, making him fall back to reality. He looks down at you, and you offer a petulant smile, ushering him to sit with you at the coffee table. He lays his lips flat and follows your orders.  

“Anyways, I bought some groceries.” Chiyo calls from the kitchen. 

You raise an eyebrow. When Chiyo emerges, she grabs onto your arm, gesturing you towards the closed kitchen space. Rin’s eyes crinkle at the sight of your confusion. 

“Get to it,” The older woman says, giving Rin a small grin, which he returns when he sees your furrowed look. 

“Chiyo-san, you’re not being very welcoming to your guests.” 

Chiyo responds by uncharacteristically placing her hands on Rin’s shoulder. He stiffens when she squeezes them. 

“You are family. He is our honoured guest.”

You only glare at her, and Rin notices the slight look you give to her hands still on him. He feels something in his stomach at the sight. But as soon as the expression came, it left. You sigh before scurrying off to the kitchen. Chiyo removes her hands from Rin, and he sighs — a bit shaky — staring down at the wood of the coffee table. 

“I’m making karaage, do you have cornstarch?” 

“Everything’s the way you left it,” Chiyo dismisses haphazardly. 

Rin feels her rustle behind him, but he does not look back. When she reappears in front, she holds out one cold beer can dripping with condensation to him, and the other is held close to her hip. Rin looks up hesitantly, and Chiyo only shakes it like one would shake a bone in front of a dog. Rin didn’t like that implication that much so he takes it rather easily. 

“Thanks,” He says. Chiyo hums. Rin is starting to think she does not like to talk that much. 

Taking a seat across from him, Rin lets his eyes roam the walls of her home. He does not think he should look at her. But then she is holding out a cigarette to him, and he stills like a ghost. He gazes in front of him to notice she has one in her mouth, and is rustling in the pocket of her sweats to presumably find a lighter. 

“Oh, no thank you,” Rin dismisses, clutching onto his can. He decides to open it. 

“You don’t smoke?”

Chiyo asks the question so accusingly, it makes Rin crane an eyebrow. She chuckles. 

“Well,” She pauses, covering the butt of her cigarette to light it. Once she does, she places it down on the table and takes a huff, “It’s just that…, I thought professional football players would be a bit more… rowdy.” 

Blowing the smoke to the side, Chiyo opens the beer can with one hand and gives Rin a half smirk. He feels his palms sweat as she looks him up and down. He wonders if she's trying to gauge his character, assessing whether he's worthy of being with you.

“You look clean, Mr. Itoshi,” Chiyo compliments, her voice laced with a hint of intrigue. Or at least Rin thinks it was a compliment. He glances down at his crisp shirt and neatly combed hair, silently hoping that his appearance is up to her standards.

“Please, call me Rin,” he replies, trying to maintain a calm and composed demeanour in the face of Chiyo's probing gaze.

“You really must like her if you’re willing to stay at a dump like this.”

“It’s not— you’re not—,” Rin stammers, his voice betraying a mix of defensiveness. He tries to find the right words but can’t quite wrap his head around what sort of explanation would quell her worries.

“Relax, I’m kidding,” Chiyo interjects, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Rin exhales a breath he didn't realise he was holding, grateful for the brief respite from the tension that had settled between them.

“But, still, this must be a cave compared to all of the places you must stay at,” Chiyo adds, her tone now lighter and more conversational. Rin can't help but feel a sense of relief as the conversation shifts to a less scrutinising topic.

“Y/n is too naive for her own good. Take care of her.” 

Rin stills at the prospect. He did not really know how to respond to that sentiment. Although he had no particular qualms about ‘taking care of you’ — he had worked through them for the past nine months — he could not tell if you even required that. Everyday he seemed to be learning more of you. It was a fascinating ordeal and a comfortable relationship. Rin would choose to stay like that if the selfish part of him — the part of him who would longingly stare at the back of your neck every time you would put your hair up, wear a shirt a couple sizes too small to show the sliver of stomach, touch his bicep as a support for mundane activities — did not exist. 

So if someone from your past was trusting him with your future, he had no room to deny. 

“I… I will,” Rin stammers, “I will.” 

When you bring a side dish of egg rolls and grilled sausages to fend their hunger, you bend down to place it on the table. Rin stares a bit too unabashedly at your neck, and when he realises what he is doing it is too late, because you stare at him with a hint of amusement. 

“What are you two talking about? Hopefully all good things. Itoshi-san, if Chiyo makes you uncomfortable you tell me, okay?” 

At this, Chiyo knocks your forehead. Rin bites his cheek when you holler at her before going back to the kitchen to finish frying the chicken. 

In the evening after dinner and a few more stories of your time spent in this townhouse, you come to him in his hoodie, a drunken gleam to your eyes and practically tossing your head on his lap. 

Rin wonders if you can tell he is losing. 

Chiyo pulled out her guitar after you grouched to her about playing you a few songs, which turned into many, which turned into mindless strumming as more beers were introduced in the night. Rin had opted out very early on and bound himself to drinking a couple of sodas. The two of you had only but shrugged your shoulders and continued on. 

You’re restless on his lap. Even though you only lay your head on his thigh, your hands wander — playing with the fabric of his shorts, reaching down to tease the skin of his shin, and — worst of all — sometimes letting your eyes wander upwards to meet his face, squinting with joy at the sight. A fine sheen of sweat covers your forehead, and you practically shine in Rin’s grasp.

Suffice to say, Rin was in for an even longer night than he anticipated. 

Luckily, you believe that Chiyo should retell Rin her adolescent stories as a form of entertainment. 

“Re—Remember when Terada-san caught you behind the bookshelves when you brought that Toru boy over for your first date?” You giggle, and Rin can feel the sound vibrate on his skin. 

“Was in the damn erotica section, too.” Chiyo grits her teeth as she smiles, adjusting a few strings of her guitar with one hand that rests on her lap. With her other, she reaches for a new beer can, “Toru-chan was so tense and really religious, I think. Really screwed with him. He was too scared to go out anywhere ‘cause he was afraid of getting caught by his parents and congregation. So I brought him over, what was I supposed to do?!” 

You laugh loudly at this, and Rin looks down at you. He feels his features loosen at the sight of delicate tears filling the corners of your eyes. 

“Wa—Wasn’t he a terrible kisser?”

“Oh, god, yeah. He had no idea where to put his hands! He just stretched them out like a starfish!”

You squeal when Chiyo describes such an act, and toss your head to the side, practically burying your face into Rin’s abdomen. Rin feels sweat run down his back. He watches helplessly as you rustle in his hoodie, on his legs. He doesn’t know how much more he can take, so he places a hand under his nose and looks down at you. 

“Tell him—tell him how red he became when he saw the cover of t—that half-naked girl!”  

Chiyo, seemingly noticing Rin’s dilemma — either out of pity or disgust from his reactions — reprimands you. 

“Please, Y/n-chan, stop treating your friend like an oversized pillow.” 

You pout, and Rin feels you begin to rustle and move away from him. But even though your actions flustered him and rendered him utterly incapable — bringing out a side of him he did not know laid dormant — Rin did not want you to go away. He wanted to chase this feeling and hold it closer to him. It was unlike anything he has felt before, after all. 

It was only natural. 

“No—No, I—,” Rin stutters, and comes to a halt when your eyes flicker to his, “…I’m fine.” 

You stare at him innocently and Rin surmises he might end up in Hell if you knew what he was thinking. Yet you only smile and adjust your head comfortably once more in his lap, while Chiyo clicks her tongue. 

“Play that Beatles song,” you drone to Chiyo, nuzzling your cheek into Rin’s thigh which makes him sweat. 

He discreetly tries to adjust his posture without moving too much — without alerting you — to no avail. Yet when your eyes trail upwards to meet his, you only push yourself into his hand that hovers over your cheek. Rin feels his ears grow hot, and the same warmth travels down his neck to his stomach. 

“Which one?”

“Chiyo-san,” you whine her name out like a child, Rin finds it endearing — sickly cute, “you know which one.” 

Chiyo laughs, ending the ballad on her acoustic guitar early. “Alright, alright,” she complies, fixing her pick and bending her wrist for a second before starting the familiar, gentle strums. They’re loud on the ears and vibrate on the drums, but they bring a soothing backdrop to the quaint living room painted in yellows and oranges. 

You fall asleep just like that. Chiyo notices before Rin does. 

“I’ll bring the futons, try not to move. She won’t sleep all night if she wakes up,” Chiyo says, before leaving Rin and your sleeping frame in the living room. 

It gives Rin the chance to stare at you all he wants. He studies your features closely. You have a scar above the bone of your left brow. His hand hovers over your face, before it decides it wants to touch the skin. You murmur an unintelligible sound, and Rin’s lips twitch. He bites the inside of his cheek. He does not think he should be allowed to see you like this, but you decided for him. 

So, when you lay next to him late at night with an inch of separation drawn between you both and empty beer cans on the table, Rin pulls you in close with the intention of feeding this selfish desire within him. You hadn’t asked before you laid yourself on him, because you probably knew he would allow it regardless. Rin could blame it on the small living room area, or point to the drinks as evidence of his uncharacteristic behaviour in the morning.

For now, he wants to hold you close to him. And that is what he does. 

I give her all my love, that’s all I do. And if you saw my love, you’d love her too.

.

.

.

The next morning, Chiyo is gone, and you find yourself burrowed in Rin’s chest. He looks down at you. He can’t hear really anything else, but he listens to you: the soft breaths you take, the small, unintelligible whimper you let out in your sleep, the rustling of your legs beneath the floral duvet and over the futon. They taunt Rin. The room is hushed, allowing him to focus on the small sounds that emanate from you — the soft breaths, the occasional whimper, the faint rustling of the bedcovers as you shift in your sleep. These sounds, insignificant to others, hold a profound significance for Rin.

When your eyes peel open, he holds a breath, adjusting his bicep you lay on. 

“Good morning,” Rin greets, his voice a low murmur, not wanting to disturb your delicate state of rest.

“Morning,” you reply, your voice filled with sleep-laden warmth. 

Your hair is a mess, and there is a soft puffiness to your face that was not there last night. When you rub your eyes and look around, seemingly getting a grasp of your surroundings, you look back towards Rin. A smile graces your lips and Rin cannot help returning it. 

You get up, murmuring something about a killing migraine. Rin follows you to the kitchen, standing under its arch entryway, observing as you fill a glass with lukewarm water from the sink. With you still in his shirt, he feels something stir inside of him, but decides to put that aside when he sees that the house keys are on the counter, realising something a bit more important. 

“...Chiyo is gone.” 

“Oh, yeah. She did that often. Does that often,” you explain, your voice trailing off as you recall Chiyo's unpredictable nature. "She’s like a stray cat. She’ll leave for a couple of days and return as though nothing happened."

“Even with guests over?” Rin can't help but inquire, a hint of curiosity tinging his voice.

“I suppose she considers you more than that, now. Take it as a compliment,” you say, offering him reassurance in the form of a playful remark.

When you bend down to open the lower cabinet — presumably to find utensils for breakfast — saying something about visiting the Ame-mura shopping district, the shirt rises ever so slightly to reveal your underwear beneath. 

Rin flushes deeply and looks away just as quickly as he’d seen it, and runs off to the bathroom.

.

The two of you find yourselves strolling through Sankaku park. As you pause to rest beneath a blooming wisteria tree, Rin notices the tension in your jaw, and he gently scolds you.

“Stop grinding your teeth. It isn’t good for you.” 

He adjusts the straps of your bucket hat, his touch gentle yet firm, attempting to alleviate some of the stress that burdens you.

You respond with a smile, your lips parting to reveal your canines. Rin's breath catches in his throat as your tongue glides over them, a simple act that sends a shiver down his spine. He watches, captivated, as you guide your index finger and thumb to touch your teeth, a gesture that feels strangely intimate to him.

“They seem to be getting sharper,” you muse, your words slightly muffled with your mouth half-open in contemplation.

“You seem to be growing duller.” 

“Hold my bag, Itoshi-san,” you request, interrupting the momentary lull in conversation. 

He gapes as you push your knapsack into his arms. It gives him a moment to look at your attire. These days you have been showing off more skin, and Rin does not know what to make of it. He doesn’t know if you want him to notice or if you are simply growing more comfortable around him. Because if it was the latter, Rin would be utterly played for a fool. 

He hopes it was the former. 

Yet amongst all the articles of clothing you wear — Rin's eyes drift down to your hand, where he notices a jewel adorning your ring finger. It is quaint and simple, yet stirs something inside of him. Confusion furrows his brow as he tries to make sense of it.

“Why do you have that on?” he asks, his curiosity tinged with a touch of jealousy he can't quite conceal.

You look down with wide eyes, and when you follow his gaze you only smile — which darkens this green envy colouring Rin’s insides. 

“Oh," you respond, your voice laced with casual nonchalance. "Ah, I put it on by habit."

Just as casually as you noticed it, you take it off. Rin’s eyes never leave where it travels — tightly secured in your fist. 

“I usually wear it in workshops. There is this one kid who refuses to leave me alone. He’s been loitering around since my second year, so I have started to wear this to make him act normal."

“He is… a student of yours?” Rin probes, his jealousy simmering beneath the surface.

You hum, looking downwards at your phone for coordinates of the cafe you wanted to go to. You nonchalantly scratch your chin. 

“Mm, somewhat. He constantly books academic appointments with me, and I cannot refuse. The pay is quite good for what the work is,” you explain matter-of-factly, unaware of the effect your words have on Rin's emotions. His jealousy takes root, fueled by the image of another person vying for your attention and proximity.

Rin doesn’t know how to direct these emotions. Well, whoever this boy was, he certainly didn’t come to Osaka with you. 

When he ponders on the thought that had just flashed through his mind — Rin almost grows mad. So he channels all of these petty feelings to your stupid bucket hat. Cute as it was, it drove him even more further down than he was. 

Rin knocks your head to catch your attention. You make an adorable sound between a grunt and a squeak. 

“Why do you insist on wearing such ridiculous hats these days?”

You tense under his hand. Rin’s eye twitches. He can’t move his knuckles, he finds himself incapable of moving at all. You lightly bite your bottom lip and rock yourself on your toes, before sighing. 

“Ah, well…, I mean…” You stutter, embarrassed of being caught for something, “You have been.. needing to wear them, every time we go out.” 

Rin’s pupils enlarge. He retracts his hand from your head. He lets his eyebrows raise, since you cannot see his eyes considering he is wearing dark sunglasses to conceal his face. Suddenly he is hyper aware of the baseball cap on his head, the same one you had given him the night he met. He hadn’t thought much of wearing it out every time you took him somewhere. It was a nice hat — it reminded him of you — and it prevented you from ever ending up in another tabloid again. He didn’t want anyone to know your character because they would never really know, in the first place. Rin has only known you for a year and still cannot seem to figure out your sweet disposition. 

“I… didn’t want to feel left out,” you add on softly, looking up at him with gentle eyes. 

Rin feels his palms sweat. He didn’t know if you were aware of the hold you had on him before, but now he thinks you definitely have an inkling. He doesn’t say anything. He only reaches for your hand. 

When you smile, Rin finds himself gone. 

.

.

.

Your laugh sounds more like a cry. It is a solemn sound and if it were not for the smile Rin could hear in your tone, he would worry. 

“What are you laughing about?” He sighs, yet he cannot hide the entertainment in his tone. He brings a cold glass of water to where you sit, lounging by the kotatsu you pulled out. 

Your legs are bent, and you rest your hands — holding your phone — on your knees. Your bucket hat rests next to Rin’s baseball cap and glasses on the surface of the table, and you hiccup as you laugh at something on your phone. 

“My—My brother sent me a voice message, I—I just found out you can play it at two times the speed. He sounds so strange,” You practically fall over when Rin takes a seat beside you, “Oh, I can’t.” 

“Stop it, you’ll choke on air,” Rin lectures — he finds himself doing that a lot — taking away your phone from your hands and handing you the glass of water. 

You oblige rather easily. You always do. Rin wonders if you are like this with everyone — or only him. He wonders if you think about him as much as he thinks about you: everyday, all the time — even more so when you are constantly around.

A quietness falls on you both. Rin has a hand on the small sofa behind you both, the one you lean against. After sipping some of the water, you lay your cheek on his bicep, face turned towards his. Feeling daring, he lays his face on the cushion as well. 

Only a few centimetres away, with a light shower happening outside that makes the pine trees outside in the alley shine viridescent, Rin feels your breath on his lips. His eyes flicker to them, and when he looks back up — you are already staring at him. 

“I really like you, Itoshi-san.” 

Rin pauses, feeling a heat swarm his head. Just as easily as you had been coming close to him, just as simple as your confession had been. He feels like a teenager again; those same swarm of emotions from his adolescence reinventing themselves into his head cause a storm. Rin knows he is not the same person he was twenty years ago, just as you know nearly everyone you were supposed to love did not reciprocate those emotions. Rin wants to give you all of them, he wants to give you all of him — and when he ponders on this in his mind and is met with no worries nor feuds — he knows he has been yours for a long time, now. 

“I really like you, too,” He whispers. He wants to touch you, so he places a hand on your cheek. He bites the inside of his cheek when he sees your eyes widen.

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” Rin affirms, his voice unwavering. He brushes the scar on your forehead, lightly massaging the skin.

“You really mean it?” 

The tone of your voice, though innocent, only makes Rin feel embarrassed. He flushes, burying his face in the soft material of the sofa and away from your prodding eyes. 

“Must you make me repeat it?” He groans. You only laugh, which makes him turn slightly to watch the expression of joy envelop your face. 

Tentatively, as though testing his reaction, you place a hand on his head. Rin lifts his head, wanting you to be closer. You move in, but it is not enough. In a moment of utter torment, he grabs your wrist and situates you on his lap. 

“I want to kiss you, Itoshi-san,” You murmur almost desperately, voice dripping with an intoxicating want. A want for him — and only him. 

Rin lets his hands grips your waist, and relishes in the way you gasp at the contact. 

“Do whatever you want,” He mutters against your lips, “I’m here.” 

The statement comes off more monotone than intended, but you read in his everything: the slight twitch of his brow, the light sweat starting to form on his forehead, the way his sight flickers to your neck and lips for half a millisecond. 

You press your lips against his first. Rin’s chest heaves up and down, and he only pulls you in closer to get more of a taste. It is only when you push against him a bit too sensually, almost purposefully trying to arouse him, is when he breaks it off first. 

“Chiyo—…” Rin breathes, desperately, but does not relent when your hands dig into his shoulders. 

“She’s gone,” You murmur, kissing him for a moment which he returns, to only pull back, “she won’t be back.” 

Rin furrows his eyebrows at the way you tilt your head, and the slight anguish painted on your features. 

“Please, Itoshi-san,” you plead so sweetly, scratching the back of his scalp. You didn’t need to do any of that — he has been burning you for months now.

“I want to touch you,” Rin admits, with no amount of shame present in his voice. He likes the way you tremble at the timbre in his tone, so he plants a soft kiss on your collarbone, “I want to do a lot of things, to you.”

You look down at him, elevated as his hands find themselves beneath you. 

“A lot?”

Rin nuzzles his nose beneath your chest, nodding as he looks up at you. 

“A lot.” 

You smile, leaning down. Rin hesitates which makes you pause. Rin feels petulant despite having you in his arms. A sense of deja vu envelops him. He ran away the last time, and though he never expected certainty from you — it would be too hypocritical of him — he cannot imagine anything but you nowadays. 

“I… need certainty,” he breathes moments after, looking down and away from you.

A soft hand is placed on his cheek, making Rin look towards you. Your face is understanding, yet your question knocks all of the air out from him. 

“Are you a virgin?” 

“N—No!” Rin exclaims a bit too quickly. 

You sink down into his lap, contemplating. Rin doesn’t know how you obtained such an ability to leave him embarrassed every time. He takes this time to look at the way your skirt falls to your waist, the way your shirt is wrinkled at the bottom from his insistence. He feels a warmth cover his skin. 

Rin didn’t think it could get any more complicated. 

“Do you want to be my boyfriend, Itoshi-san?”

You ask such a decent, fatuous question in such an indecent way, Rin feels himself tighten around his pants. 

“Please, don’t say it like that,” He groans, head falling to push against your chest, “You’re making this really difficult.” 

“I know,” You grin, “But I know you are smart, Itoshi-san. Surely you didn’t think I brought you to my childhood home for the sole intent to sleep with you.” 

“I want to be yours, too, Itoshi-san. I want to love you a lot.” 

You look at him like some sort of apparition. You say such a thing so easily it leaves Rin speechless. And that is no good. No good at all. Because then it will lead to Rin overthinking everything about you: your delicate fingers scratching at the skin on the back of his neck, the way your chest rises up and down, the haze in your eyes telling him you want him. 

So, Rin responds with a heated kiss. 

He swallows every one of your mewls, and lets his hands run everywhere they wanted to touch before. The dip between your thigh and hip, the small birthmark on your elbow, your ribcage that you told him you wanted to get tattooed, the fingers that grip tightly to his now — somehow, opened — button-down shirt.

You press yourself against his hard-on, and gasp when his large hands grab at your ass to only encourage your movement. 

“Yeah?” Rin kisses the column of your neck, voice a mess as you ruffle his hair, “You like that, baby?”

“Rin, please—oh, oh,” You moan, tossing your head back with a gasp. Rin looks at your expression, lips twitching as he frowns at the way you push your chest to his face. 

“So beautiful…” He murmurs to himself, appreciating the hands in his hair and the sounds that leave your lips. 

“Oh—Rin, please, please.” 

“What is it, love?” 

The pet name comes out as naturally as breathing to him. 

“Need you — kiss me, please.” 

Obeying your request comes just as easily. 

Rin meets your mouth in a clash of teeth. Soft lips melt into his, and he explores every crevice of your mouth with adept dexterity. His hands bunch at your skirt, and you whimper — resting your chin on his broad shoulder when you pull away for air. 

“This damn skirt drove me crazy all day,” Rin grunts, digging his thumbs into the waistline. 

“Yeah—Yeah?”

“Yeah. Leave it on for me.”

Rin feels you shiver, “O—Okay…”

Rin huffs a laugh under his breath when he discards your shirt to reveal mismatching underwear colours. It was exactly you, the cheap panties with striking red and blue colours, and the violet sports bra. You twitch beneath him, half from embarrassment and excitement, he can tell. 

Hooking your arms around his broad shoulders, you pout and small tears fill your eyes. 

“Don’t laugh, I forgot to pack my good underwear,” 

“So you did bring me all the way to Osaka to sleep with me?” Rin teases, running a hand down to your inner thigh. You gasp and arch your back, before returning his smile with a wolfish grin of your own. 

“My side-men in Tokyo might get intimidated if they see that a pro footballer has joined the roster.” 

Rin narrows his eyes and clicks his tongue. His reply is prompt. 

“I’d kill them.” 

“I know,” you giggle, pulling Rin down to your lips once more. 

Still in his clothes, Rin manages to tug his sweats down along with his boxers to his mid thighs, revealing his sturdy manhood. You moan into his mouth when the hot skin presses against your inner thigh. 

“R—Rin, please,” you mewl so sweetly, gazing down at him as he teases the hem of your skirt. 

The very sight of you, held by him like this, would probably send him to purgatory. It’s debauched in every sense of the word. 

“I was so jealous when you told me about that damned student in the park,” Rin groans, rubbing the head of his manhood over your slick folds that twitch and cream over it. 

“Wanted to— Wanna kill him for even thinking—,” Rin’s frustrations fall short when he finds himself burying into you. He rests his head on your collar, as you wrap your arms around him and bury yourself in the crook of his neck — a pliant and soft mess for him. 

“Rin, Rin,” You cry, small tears escaping your eyes as Rin pushes you further down his cock, “Feels—Feels good.”

Sweat runs down his forehead, and your moist body presses against his. He kisses at your chest, which only makes you arch your back and press him further into you. Rin’s thrusts grow more intense, wanting to take you away — wanting to have you all for himself. A warm hand goes down to tease your clit and when you tighten around him, Rin sees stars. When the familiar band of pleasure reaches him, something he had not felt in years, Rin’s thrusts grow more rapid — with a strong want.

“Rin—Rin, gonna—,” You mewl, and Rin grips tighter onto your hips.

“I have you, I have you,” He grunts, driving further to make you reach your high. You hiccup, and Rin can feel a few tears fall down and touch his skin when you pull away from his neck to meet his lips as you come around you. He comes shortly after, clutching onto your malleable frame tightly, afraid that if he were to blink you would disappear.

When Rin comes back down, you lay next to him. You collapse into his chest, and he hums, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. He still feels a bit high, especially as you coddle him. The clouds part outside, painting the room in a soft glow — painting over your skin. 

You prop yourself on his chest, and Rin lets himself pet your cheek. 

“I really, really love you Rin,” You murmur once more, lids drooping — threatening to close. He rubs your cheekbone with the knuckle of his finger, pushing your cheek — urging you to rest. 

His eyes wander the room as he lay there with you. Your articles of clothing lay across the kotatsu, next to your beret and his hat. Rin wraps his arms around you, letting himself feel this selfish emotion longer. He likes the way you seem to fall into yourself every time you find something amusing, likes the way you find the need to hold onto something — anything — to ground yourself, and Rin likes it that, recently, the thing keeping you grounded has been him. 

Rin likes you so much he cannot think straight. 

He finds it easier everyday to admit this. Everything is easier in his head, and now you are there. 

I know this love of mine will never die. And I love her.

[saints-who-never-existed]

40, 24, 16 for the ask!

Ooh, interesting choices - thank you! :)

40. Any bad habits?

Oh tons! One that I'm trying to get a handle on at the minute is my screen time, which has gotten a bit out of hand recently as I live alone and it's all too easy to come home from work and just keep a'scrollin' until bedtime. I'm getting there with it though - especially now that summer's here and it's easier than ever to make better use of my spare time. :)

24. What's one thing you're proud of yourself for?

Storytime!

So about 18 months ago, I got my dream job in my dream institution. For various reasons though - some that were my fault but many that were not - it turned out to be fuckin' godawful and I lost that job within the first six weeks.

I was in a really bad place afterwards. Being in such a specialised field, I was convinced at first that word of my failure would spread somehow and that I'd never work again... But once the initial shock faded and I was able to take stock, I decided that I couldn't just give up that easily!

So I started up job hunting again and discovered very quickly and to my amazement that people out there - including many at very prestigious institutions indeed - absolutely did still want to hire me!

It took a few months to settle on the right thing but soon enough, I'd not only secured a new job that paid even better than the shitshow one before, but had also summoned up the courage to move to the other end of the country, completely alone, in order to take it on.

So in answer to the question, not a day goes by that I'm not immensely proud of the strength, determination, and sheer balls it took for me to do all that! :')

16. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

Oh I am for sure an overthinker and a people-pleaser who's a lot more closed off emotionally than she'd like to be! Even my closest friends have noted in the past that I've been guilty of some toxic positivity...

But, like with many other things, I have taken steps to address and to change that in recent years and I'm slowly but surely getting there! :)

[7shadow7wolf7]

A HARD WAY

Synopsis - Few years ago you helped Winchester's brothers with a chase and ended up very close to them. Your relationship with Dean was 'will they or won't they' from beginning. You, in contrast with Dean, never were the person to go with the flow. So, when Dean sees an opportunity he takes it and maybe you will just let him.

Pairing - DeanWinchester x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 1k

Warnings - cursing, nudity, extortion, smut in next chapter(s).

Author's Note - This is my first post,so don't expect much. Also English isn't my first language and I'm apologize for mistakes. (I probably will mix British and American expressions).

Any feedback is immensely appreciated !! I am excited to share this with you.

I don't own picture or characters.

When Sam called me about hunt, I was glade. There is no way that I will ever say that at loud, but sometimes I miss things as they were. Helping people and well, Sam and Dean. But that case quickly remembered me why I took a break. Even though we ended up sawing little girl and boy, one life was lost. And I felt the weight of that on my shoulders, so when Sam suggested that I spend some time with them I immediately accepted.

That was three weeks ago. Everything was like before, except it wasn't. While I was at the break I made a whole new life, which I put on hold. My plan was to get back to it. I made that clear three weeks ago, but here I was...

It was my turn to get groceries and after I put them into theirs place I went in my room. The moment I stepped into room I knew somebody was in there. Everything was at the place, just not quite right. And there was only one person who would go through my stuff.

"DEAN!" I screamed as I went to the room next to mine. I opened door without knocking and Dean glanced at me from his bed for a second and then went back to his laptop. "Why the hell did you went through my stuff?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders. "Well, how else am I supposed to find out what you are up to? You are refusing to talk about last year" he said while concentrating on his laptop.

"There's nothing to tell. I was living boring non-supernatural life" I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms as I lined at the door frame.

"Non-supernatural maybe, but boring - no. It looks to me like you had good time" he said still not looking at me.

"What are you talking about?" I said and then I realized. "What did you found?" I took a few steps towards him.

"Oh, you know just pictures" Dean said as he turned laptop so I can see screen.

Moment I looked at the screen I felt like air was knocked out of my chest. One of the boudoir pictures I took a few months ago was on Deans laptop. I couldn't seem to find the words as I looked at picture of me sitting naked on bed with a sheet cowering my private parts. I looked at Dean who had the biggest shit eating grin on his face, that seemed to remind me how to talk. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you looked at this" I said as I tried to took his laptop away "I'm almost naked there!"

"I think you answered your own question" he said as he turn laptop away from me. "Beside that one is were vanilla, only thing I saw there is a little bit of sideboob" he said while doing something on laptop. "You see, this one is really doing it for me" he said showing me the photo of me standing Infront of window with my back turned to the camera, while sheet falled so the shade of my butt was clearly visible.

"Dean you are so dis-"

"This one is in my top three, I mean look at your face here" he interrupted me showing me another picture. "And this one because-"

"What's wrong with you?" I said as I got on the bed with my knees and took his laptop. "Why would you do something like that Dean?" I said as I started to deleted pictures.

"So, who was a lucky guy? I didn't take for a girl who sends nudes" Dean asked as he was leaning on headboard with his arms and leg crossed looking at me.

"I didn't do them for a guy I did them for myself" I said as I deleted last picture.

"I can respect that. I like the tough of being able to look at them 10 years from now" he said.

"Yeah, well you will never see them again" I stud up from bed when I catched that stupid smirk on his face. "You have copys?"

"Of course, I have copys" he waved a USB on a Scooby Doo pendat that I got for him.

"Dean!"

"Oh, c'mon I saw all of that before" he said uncrosing his arms "And well, my-"

"Give me that" I launched at him trying to take USB from him but he sat up, grabed my arms and pushed me onto the bed. "Dean, I need them back! I won't be able to sleep knowing that somebody has them" I said trying to move but he still holded me down.

He looked at my eyes for a few seconds as playfulness in them was replaced by disappointed. "What, you think I would show them to someone?" he asked looking away from me and letting go of my arms.

"Well, no... Actually I don't know you did took them from my laptop-"

"That's diferent, we had a thing for years. I wouldn't betrayed you like that" he said as he got up from bed. "Or maybe I'm wrong and this was onesided" now he was pacing around.

"You aren't wrong" I sat up. "You know that I don't trust, well anybody" that made him stop pacing as he looked at me.

His eyes darkened. "Let's make a deal" he said watching me as I putted my legs down. "You flash me and I will give you USB"

I looked at him for few second thinking that I heard wrong. "What?"

"You heard me. I had enough of you ignoring me. You flash me - and I don't mean 2 seconds but you know, really flash me - and I will give you USB" he took a few steps towards me.

"Don't be a idiot Dean" I said still in shock.

"C’mon, sweetheart. It's time to play by my rules" he said as he got even closer.

We hold eye contact for few seconds. Well, I did daydream about Dean for years, so why the hell not?

"Okay. Tits, right?" his eyes widened.

"Yeah..." he said in shock.

"No touching and you give me pictures back first. Deal?" I said giving him a hand.

He looked at me for a few seconds, still in shock, before he took my hand "Deal".

Part 1

[josiebelladonna]

alright. kinktober prep is officially underway it looks like. after getting a major head start a couple of months ago, my nerves are completely frayed, but the stories will all be written and they’ll all queued up. all the pigs are all lined up, i give you all that you want, take the skin and peel it back-

i’m making this post to preface the event.

by the way, if you’re not into this and don’t wanna see the posts, please blacklist the “kinktober″ and “kinktober 2024” tags, as well as my personalized tag “antarkinktober”—this goes double if you’re under 18: it’s not my job to police you so heed the “mature” labels on all the stories. 

what is kinktober? definition from fanlore: “Kinktober is a multifandom prompt based challenge that encourages the creation of erotic fanworks, mostly fanfiction and fan art, that focus on specific kinks. Taking place during the month of October.” 31 days of smut at its bare bones—although, contrary to popular belief, kink actually need not be sexual.

what prompts are you using? my own, as well as a list from oops-all-kink. i’ve been planning this quite literally since may.

what does X prompt mean? i would recommend going to fetlife or urban dictionary to learn about kinks that sound unfamiliar (especially when Google is basically useless at this point and they feel a need to sanitize results, too)—fanlore also has a full glossary of fanfic terms that, even i’ve never heard of.

how long will they be? at this point, they’re ranging anywhere from 2-6k words: i like to set a stage and tell a story. it’s just more titillating to me, and i always feel like i’m shortchanging myself if i go below a thousand words. i’m not doing it bc i’m horny lol; i do it because… it’s just how i roll. it’s one of the many things that isolate me from the rest of the pack 😒

who are you including? i want to leave that as a little surprise~

why don’t you like the “x reader” trope? short answer: it’s literally every fic in existence right now and literally no one does it right. long answer: that, and what i write is very personal, like i’m writing in my diary. if i bring “you” or “y/n” into it, it removes the heart from it and it ends up looking like nothing. i want to stand out, i guess. and more often than not, it begs the question, “why not just make an original character? you obviously went out of your way to make it applicable to a male reader or a nonbinary reader, why not just make a character?” (it’s a cop out at this point, is what i’m saying)

what time are one shots going to be posted? i have posts scheduled from 9pm and 9:30pm pacific time starting september 30th (the installments of paradise will be posted throughout the day on september 29th, alex’s birthday), so i’d say be on the look out (and maybe turn on my post notifications?). on ao3, i’ll be posting them on the day of the prompt, probably in the morning after my workout (around 8-ish).

isn’t this a bit too much smut? depending on who you ask. my first time was in 2022 and it didn’t feel like too much. i tried it last year and i pulled the plug halfway through because it stopped being fun such that i wanted to kill myself. this year, i’m trying to redeem myself and going all out. some people like doing only a few prompts, like a couple every week.

why are so nervous? i just am. i’m not exaggerating when i say last year was so excruciating that i wanted to slit my own throat. i’m not a sex-positive person (but i’m not sex-negative, though), and just thinking about being sex positive makes me feel somewhat sick to my stomach. i have no confidence… like not at all, and i feel as though everyone just wants to be a dumb, lazy idiot and an antisemite for the rest of their lives. i’m not sexy, and i’m not this confident, voluptuous vixen just eager to share her fantasies with all of you. in fact, i fully expect to get a repeat of last year where everyone gets called hot and sexy and “the one to be” and “the best writer”… except me. i fully expect my kinks to met with utter disgust. there’s a great deal of pride in what i do (i’m portuguese, we’re a proud people), even though it doesn’t seem that way. but if i’m met with apathy, it’s painful, and last year, i was met with reams of apathy. i can get down with a negative remark despite the unspoken rule that you must never say anything negative about a fic to the author; but if no one cares or calls it “fine” or “okay” or whatever, i have my hand on the cable.

if you have any other questions, you may (or not) have noticed that i quietly reopened my ask box. 

please be patient with me when it comes to answering asks, or even posting. this has been the most emotionally trying year for me in 7 years, and anxiety is a real thing with me. depression is a real thing with me. i am scarred by shame and a broken heart. i’m an artist, i have been taking shit day in day out for the last 11, and more so in the last four years. so, i am literally trying my best.

please try and enjoy what i have waiting in the wings. it really does feel like everyone hates me, and this feeling has pervaded since around this time in 2020.

[bellaxgiornata]

Also sharing my Matt Murdock x OFC story Caught in the Undertow on here now! I write a lot of Matt Murdock fics... There are darker themes and smut in this (18+), but there's also a softer side to Matt and Daredevil. The main character doesn't realize her best friend Matt is also her nighttime visitor Daredevil. Read the first chapter here!

Summary (107, 048 words)

Eight months ago Emily Diehl moved from Hell’s Kitchen to the Upper West Side as her wedding photography business successfully took off. But between her recent, traumatic break up with an ex who won't leave her alone and her increased workload, she's lost touch with her friends, family, and herself. Struggling through grief and depression, Emily ends up confiding in one of her best friend's and former crush along with her old neighborhood's mysterious vigilante, Daredevil–-though Emily doesn't realize the two are one in the same. Every day she is left wondering what it will take to find herself again. And as she slowly finds her way back, she's beginning to wonder just why Daredevil cares so much...

Excerpt from chapter 1:

I sighed, closing my eyes and listening to the faint sounds of the city below me. Somehow Hell's Kitchen was louder at night than the Upper West Side, though my apartment building was just barely a few blocks from the Kitchen.

There was honking in the distance on the streets below, and if I listened close enough I could hear faint drunken yelling. I could hear the soft whoosh of traffic below from the cars and taxis on the busy summer Saturday night. Even the wind was louder up on the rooftop, the sound a low whistle in my ear.

"You know it's not safe to sit so close to the edge," a deep voice cut through the night.

My eyes opened, immediately recognizing the gravelly voice even though I hadn't heard it in a long while. I glanced up to my right and spotted Daredevil in his red suit staring down at me. He looked exactly the same as the last time I saw him. His mouth was turned up at one corner in a small smile as he stared back down at me.

I snorted faintly, turning my attention back to the street below me. "Not really too concerned about that," I answered him.

"Because you know I'd catch you if you fall?" he asked, an almost flirtatious teasing in his tone as if it hadn't been months since the last time we'd seen each other.

I hummed softly in response, shaking my head slightly. "No," I muttered. "I just don't really care if I do."

I could see him stiffen out of the corner of my eye at my words. It was a moment before he sat down beside me, dangling both of his feet over the ledge as he positioned himself a couple of feet from my side.

"That's a bit dark," he pointed out.

"Says the guy in a devil suit that spends his evenings hitting people," I quipped back.

"Fair point," he agreed. "So what's going on? I haven't seen you in Hell’s Kitchen for a while."

"Because I moved just out of Hell’s Kitchen a few months back," I told him, eyes still on the street far below us. "Technically the Upper West Side, but it's only a few blocks from your… territory ."

"Sounds fancy," he mused.

"It is."

"But you aren't happy?" he asked, his head turning towards me.

I exhaled a long breath, closing my eyes. I could feel the ache in my chest and the knot in my stomach a little too well for my liking right now.

"You deduce that from a lonely woman sitting on the ledge of a four story building saying she doesn't care if she falls?" I shot back, though there wasn't much edge to my tone.

"That and the slow, erratic beat of your heart," he told me.

I rolled my eyes. "You know I forgot you had weird, bat-like senses or whatever."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Just heightened, not bat-like."

"Still weird though," I teased him.

Turning my head on my knee to face him, I caught the faint smile on his mouth. That mouth was all I could ever see of his face, whether he'd been in his man in black get-up or the new red suit he'd had for a bit. I'd always thought he had a beautiful mouth but it's all I'd ever seen–besides the muscles through the previous tight black shirt he used to wear.

[raymondshields]

Ok friend you have my curiosity where is this fic you speak of. I am SO ready to have my brain chemistry fundamentally changed

Start here. My recommendation is to read that, maybe read the rest of Turnabout NaNoWriMo, and if you want to know more after that, I can hand you some 200k of fic that is properly formatted with the interludes, because Ao3's formatting really doesn't work with the Sagiverse anthologies. (So what you see here is maybe like a quarter of what we've got. We have a lot, and also lots of art.)

Turnabout NaNoWriMo is the first of three-and-a-half anthologies I've written, and it's only after reading and enjoying all of them do I let people at my fiance's anthologies, which are excellent but a bit more private. (Turnabout Runaways, which was this year's NaNo challenge, is incomplete but at least 50k. I will be slowly working on it probably for a few months, and eventually it'll be done.)

These anthologies take place in a greater crossover AU we refer to as Sagiverse. It started in 2020 in Saint Seiya, and now hosts several different series, eight hundred some-odd characters, upwards of thirty different fantasy worlds (of which Earth is only one), and more plotlines than we can keep track of properly.

Here's the two-sentence pitch: seven hundred years ago, there was a giant war between various magical factions on Earth that ended in a mostly-forgotten pyrrhic victory and the gods choosing to seal magic away from the world. So magic began to slowly die out, and as of present day, magic is rarer and rarer, and mage society is dying out, but it's still holding on as best it can, until one day the gods finally allow magic to return.

Ace Attorney gets involved with this very very simply. Miles Edgeworth is a mage. To be specific, he's a necromage, one of the most powerful currently active on Earth. His father, Gregory Atticus Edgeworth, had never found proof of magic while he was alive. His mother... well, no one knows who his mother is, or anything about the man at all. After DL-6, Miles was taken in by MvK as a ward just as canon says, but the von Karmas themselves are magi of a kind. After DL-6, Atticus finds the proof of magic's existence that he's been looking for all along, and he is not going to leave his son and missing fiance alone in a world that so very much wants the both of them dead.

And so begins a thirty-five year trainwreck to put their wayward, way-finding family back together. They'll do it, no matter what it takes. It just turns out their family's a little bigger than they think it is.

The fic I linked pretty much opens with the identity of Miles' mother, which you learn pretty much as I did, because I didn't plan jack or shit, only let him tell me what was going on. You may raise an eyebrow at the canon ages, don't worry about that. We had to fix the timeline anyway (because the forensics tech was all twenty years out of date so we just changed the years to be twenty years earlier, setting DL-6 on December 28th 1981) so we just didn't pull him back as far. Atticus died at 39, his fiance was 33.

This is because when I first got into AA, I found the IS-7 picture of Gregory and Ray, and I sort of mistook 18-year-old Ray as Atticus' wife. My fiance pointed out the age gap, paused, and went "but they're cute so I'm sure we can make it work" and then we did. If you hesitate a bit on the ship but don't immediately hate the idea, I promise I can sell you on it. At the end of the day, everything comes back to Atticus and Ray's tragic romance. This I can promise you: it ends happily. We're just still writing everything in between.

Sagiverse!Ray is a pretty distinct character from canon!Ray, but they're close enough that if you like one you'll probably like the other. I gave him way more trauma and it's fun. :3c

If you're wondering what happens to other characters, I can answer that. Apollo is dead for a few months, Phoenix a little bit longer. Robot!Athena has Issues. Franziska changes her career from Interpol to Magica Underground mostly because it's a better use of her legal talents. Miles gets to be the chosen one and lead a war against one of his university friends who unfortunately (and semi-accidentally) stole Phoenix's corpse and ran away with it. (Phoenix is fine, don't worry about it.) Atticus gets to be a bounty hunter on the ghostroads with Mia and they do a lot of shooting MvK and causing problems. Ray, uh. Well, at least he only got shot in the head twice?

[drabbles-mc]

Ninety Days

Walt Breslin x GN!Reader

For @narcosfandomdiscord's Day of History: exes meeting unexpectedly

Warnings: 18+, language, talks of addiction/drugs, angst

Word Count: 2.9k

NMX Taglist: @ashlingnarcos @garbinge @hausofmamadas @artemiseamoon @proceduralpassion @cositapreciosa (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

It’d been a long time since you found yourself getting jittery at the thought of a meeting. The nail of your thumb pressed hard into the 60-day chip that was in your pocket. It was hard to believe that you’d gotten it thirty days ago already. Today you were up for your 90-day chip. Maybe that was the source of the nerves.

Ninety days wasn’t a small feat, not after how long you’d been dragged through your downward spiral after everything. You didn’t get that far on your first try, either. You were sent back to the starting line, a couple stumble and missteps at the beginning. Who could blame you? To go from being the person tracking down dealers to lock them up, to tracking them down so you could ask—

You stopped yourself, shaking your head like the physical action of it would really rattle the thoughts out of your head. It worked, somewhat. You picked up other things to think about, focus on. You pulled open the door of the community center, the same place you’d been going at least twice a week for the last ninety days. You’d gotten to know most of the people who showed up consistently the same way that you did. There were only a few people that you really spoke to outside the meetings other than your sponsor, but it was a good support system. That was the whole point, right? There must’ve been something to it. You were still here, after all, still clean by some string of miracles after three months.

A few people greeted you as you walked in. You stopped long enough to make a little bit of small talk, all the while you just spun the coin in your pocket between your fingers like that would somehow take away all of your anxiety. Hopefully it at least made it a little less noticeable.

You slipped away from the conversation and took a seat in the circle of chairs that were set up. They always made a point to set up more than necessary, not wanting a meeting to accidentally become standing-room only, you supposed. Most times it also had the benefit of leaving a bit of a buffer between you and other people. You slouched a little lower in the chair once you sat, removing your chip from your pocket so you could fidget with it with both hands. The large 60 staring you in the face, trying to be something with gravitational pull, but it just didn’t seem to be doing the trick in the moment.

“That’s about to be obsolete,” a voice piped up from next to you.

You flinched, so sucked into your own thoughts that you hadn’t heard them walk over to you, hadn’t heard them sit down in the chair beside you. Clearing your throat, you turned to face them, relived to see the face of your sponsor. He might’ve had about ten years on you age-wise, but he carried himself like he was about ten years younger than you. Sometimes you wondered when your de-aging process was going to start.

You forced a light chuckle. “About to be, yeah. All these chips,” you let it lie face-up in your palm, “and still no salsa.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Never gets old.”

“I’m just saying, I think it’s a missed opportunity in the snack department.”

He waited for you to look at him again. “You alright?”

You knew he was only asking because he already had the answer. You sighed, knowing better than to lie. “It’s good that I’m here.”

He nodded. “It is.”

There wasn’t time for either of you to chat more as everyone came and took their seats for the meeting to get underway. The circle filled in, empty chairs scattered about. On the opposite side of you from your sponsor the chair was empty which afforded you a little bit of breathing room. You listened as introductions were done for anyone new, responded when needed, but your eyes were glued to your hands as you forced them to still in your lap.

The only thing that got you to look up was the sound of the door opening a few minutes after the start of the meeting. There were no punishments for tardiness obviously, but you were curious to see if the person was a frequent flyer or someone new. The only thing that the information would change was your level of curiosity.

When you saw who it was that had walked through the door, your entire body locked up. The metal coin in your hand fell to the floor with a clatter that seemed to echo in the room. You felt your sponsor’s hand on your shoulder for a moment, and over the blood rushing in your ears you were fairly certain you heard him ask you again if you were alright. Rather than waiting for you to answer he leaned down and plucked your chip off the ground, placing it into your palm once more.

The sound was enough to draw his eyes to yours even though there was an entire group of people in front of him. Despite the ways that your appearance had changed in the months since you saw him, Walt was still able to recognize you immediately. You knew it, too, because even though it seemed impossible for his face to grow paler than it started off, it did.

Whether the gentleman running the session didn’t notice what had just transpired, or chose to ignore it, you didn’t know. It didn’t matter either way, because he gestured to the few empty chairs that were left and said, “Come and join us. We were just getting started.”

Walt was taking mercy on you just as much as himself by not choosing the empty chair next to you. However when he sat down in the one across from you, you wondered if that was really any better. It was hard not to look at each other.

You listened to Walt introduce himself with a name that was not his, and your stomach dropped. It wasn’t bad enough that he somehow managed to turn up at the same meeting miles and miles away from the last place you saw him. No, he had to show up at the same meeting as you and he was there doing fucking undercover work. Even when you were trying to get away from it all it just kept following you. He couldn’t look at you while he was introducing himself, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. your blood felt like it was boiling in your veins, a different kind of burn than you had become so accustomed to before. Whatever they made their coins out of must have been legit because it wasn’t bending beneath the inhuman amounts of pressure you were gripping it with.

The sharing started. You were usually much more attentive, but it was hard to really listen to what people were saying when your mind was racing with a million other things now. You wondered who Walt was here for—he wouldn’t have chosen to go so far out of his way for nothing. You wondered how he ended up here, how he didn’t know that this was where you had landed if this was a place he’d been looking into for a while. You wondered, when he started to talk, how much of what he was saying was actually true and what was exaggerated. Something told you that most, if not all, of the things he was telling everyone were true. Of course, the only time he was anything close to honest with you, was when he was pretending to be someone else. And he was being honest with a room full of strangers too.

You didn’t want to share. From the second you’d pulled into the parking lot you had been on the fence about whether or not you were going to really speak up at all. Maybe just make a quick comment and get your chip but other than that just sit back and listen. But now Walt had made even just sitting there and listening feel like a herculean task. It felt like you were about to crawl out of your skin, so when the question was posed about whether or not anyone else wanted to share, your mouth moved faster than your mind.

“I’ll share.” You waited for some sort of cue, a gesture to continue, which you got. You couldn’t help but to notice the way that the only person who looked like they were on the edge of their seat due to that piece of information was Walt. Go figure.

You cleared your throat, kicking yourself for deciding to just jump into the center of the ring that way. You weren’t going to go back on it now. Running your thumb over the triangle on your coin, you finally got yourself to speak. Introducing yourself was half the battle. After that it wasn’t quite smooth sailing but it was traversable waters. “Today is ninety days. So, you know,” you chuckled and held up your coin between two fingers, “get to collect another one for the display case.” The comment got a few scattered chuckles out of the room—good sports.

“But this…journey has been a lot longer than ninety days. And not, you know, not just because I kept fucking up at the beginning, kept slipping. That didn’t make the trip any shorter, but this road I’m on took a sharp left way before I first showed up here with you all. I was, um, I was thinking about it a lot today. Kinda psyched me out, to be honest.” You locked eyes with Walt across the circle. “Feels like no matter how far I make it down the road, the past just keeps catching up. Like an asshole driver tailgating me, I look into the rearview and there it is. And I try not to spend too much time looking in the rearview, but it’s hard not to when you hit a milestone of some kind. I think about how far I’ve come, sure, but I also think about what happened that made me had to claw my way here.”

You were sure that no one else noticed the way that Walt began to squirm in his chair. That was okay, though. You noticed. “I didn’t lose everything because I started using. I started using because it felt like I had lost everything. My job. My partner—who was my partner on and off the clock. My friends, who were also my teammates. My purpose. It was all gone. And it felt like I had nothing. And then a few months went by and I learned what it felt like to really have nothing. Things took such a harsh left turn and I’ve just been trying to keep the steering wheel straight ever since. And, I don’t know,” you shrugged and let out a tired chuckle, “I think I’m doing a pretty good job.” A few more warm, quiet laughs. “My grandfather used to say, affectionately of course, that my sister and I had screws loose. I think I’ve always just been looking for ways to tighten ‘em. For a long time it was work, but then I didn’t have that. What I picked up instead clearly didn’t do the trick either. But I’m figuring it out. Finding the right screwdriver. This helps—you all help. So,” you cleared your throat, “thanks.”

Your share led into the next, and then the next. You felt a little better afterwards. Walt had hardly blinked the entire time you were speaking, and even once you were done you noticed the way that he was only looking at you. There was no way that you were the reason that he had shown up, but whoever his real target was, he hadn’t paid them any attention almost all evening. Walt Breslin and his one-track mind. If he didn’t straighten out his own wheel soon, he was going to be in some deep shit. You wondered if he was still working with Jaime.

The meeting ended. You got your chip, made the appropriate amount of conversation with the man who had been running meetings since you’d started, who had seen you go through your whole journey up until this point. You tried to slip out without talking to anyone else. The only two people who noticed were your sponsor, and Walt. Walt was smart enough to let you go a few strides ahead, keep a little difference.

Your sponsor stopped you in the parking lot, not that you put up a fight about it as you pulled your pack of cigarettes from the pocket of your jacket. You offered him one and he gladly accepted. “Wanna grab a bite?” he asked. A polite, roundabout way of asking if you needed to talk more, if you were on the brink of spinning out.

You shook your head before taking a drag of your smoke. “I’m alright. I was rattled earlier but I’m, you know, I’m feeling better now.”

“That’s good.” He looked over at the door of the building where Walt was standing, smoking his own cigarette. “Anything else you wanna share?”

You let out a puff of an exhale, something that almost could’ve passed for a laugh, sending smoke swirling into the air around you. “Nothing but old history and bullshit.”

He chuckled. “Want me to leave you to it?”

You nodded. “I’ll be good.”

He gave it a beat to see if you gave any tell that you were lying to him. You were all adults, though—he wasn’t going to force you into anything, wasn’t going to babysit you if you didn’t ask to be babysat. And you had asked to be babysat before. He clapped your shoulder. “Call if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

You watched him go to his car and drive off. It wasn’t until he was off the lot and out of sight that Walt finally walked over to you. It crossed your mind to get in your car and peel off too, but your curiosity won out the way that it always did.

He stopped with hardly a stride’s worth of space between you. “Hey.”

You tapped ash off the end of your cigarette. “I’m not calling you by—”

“I didn’t know you were here.”

You scoffed. “Maybe if you’d called me at some point over the last, oh, I don’t know, eight months? You would’ve known.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You fuckin’ should be,” you snapped. Part of you regretted it, the harshness in your voice. But he wasn’t innocent in this, either. He hung you out to dry, left you all alone.

“What you said in there tonight…” he trailed off for a moment, “I’m sorry you went through all of that.”

“Me too.” You pulled another inhale off your cigarette. “I think that was the most honest you’ve ever been with me. What you said in there, I mean. You never…you never talked like that with me.” You sighed, pressing the heel of your palm against your forehead for a moment, careful not to touch the cigarette to your face in the process. “Guess I should’ve just invited a fuckin’ audience into our living room.”

“Look—”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” It should’ve been the first question, but Walt did have a way of making you sentimental. Always had. Something about those big, sad eyes of his.

“Workin’ a case.”

“Who?”

He shook his head, “You know I can’t—”

“You’re fuckin’ shitting me, right?” You scoffed. “You come here, traipse into my fucking meeting and you—”

“I didn’t know you were fucking here,” he snapped, voice low and harsh. “If I had known, trust me, I wouldn’t have shown up.”

“Of course you wouldn’t have. Willingly facing the destruction you cause while you’re trying to get what you want? Why the fuck would you ever do that?”

“I said I’m fucking sorry.”

“And I didn’t say that I fucking forgive you.” There was a long, tense pause between you before you let out a sigh. Dropping your cigarette to the ground, you snubbed it beneath the toe of your boot. “I can’t sit there across from you for however long you’re here, sharing and pretending that I don’t know you’re trying to get one of these guys caught.”

“If they didn’t want to get caught, they shouldn’t—”

“Watch your goddamn step,” you said like a growl, a warning.

He sighed, dropping his chin to his chest. He could try to stand there and argue with you that it was different, that the guys dealing were a completely different category than the people using, or trying not to use, but it wouldn’t do him any good. “Sorry. But I can’t just leave because you don’t want me here.”

“This is a dangerous game to play for a man who already doesn’t like himself very much.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“You thought that was rough?” You gestured towards the building. “What I said in there tonight? That was me sharing on a good day. You,” you laughed without humor, “you better hope you’re done and out of here before you have to listen to me share on a bad day.”

“I didn’t want it to go down like that,” he offered up, like that was any fucking use to either of you now.

“And yet, it, did,” you punctuated each word like it was its own sentence. Pulling your keys out of your pocket, you said, “I know I can’t make you leave, Walt. But I really fucking hope you don’t stay.”

He knew he deserved it all and then some. “I’ll try not to stick around too long.”

[jigenstits]

aight have a 'jeeg is alone and busy with draining a whiskey bottle' headcanon situation thing. i'll try to keep this from getting too dark. or heavy. because my headcanons tend to go there. if you feel like this got too heavy, feel free to trash this ask.

so i dunno how was your experience with alcohol, or if you ever had one. but alcohol doesn't drown out the pain, it just. makes you not care, it removes the filters, it snuffs out the reasonable, thinking parts of you. it robs you of your defenses, it allows every single repressed thought to bubble up to the surface and forces you to face it.

now how does this apply to jigen. well. i like to thing he has Issues™️. we've all seen his exes. there's a pattern. and it's not a good one (look at crazy mash, for example). so imagine one night, nothing is happening, lupin is gone for whatever reason (laying low, out to get groceries, chaisng tail, etc.) and jigen is alone with his thoughts and a bottle of whiskey, 40% abv, just like any other whiskey. many people drink out of boredom, but i don't think jigen does that, i think he respects the alcohol as an object, something of value. he pours himself a shot, just like any other night. for him it's a ritual, he does it because he doesn't feel right without it (behold, a functional alcoholic. mostly functional.)

But the more he drinks, the more he relaxes, loosens up, allows the Thoughts™️ to trickle back. he starts reminiscing about things he'd rather not remember. so he drinks more. maybe he spirals, maybe he doesn't, but his thought process gets really, really negative and he no longer drinks for the enjoyment of it. at its core, alcohol is a poison. jigen keeps pouring himself shot after shot, at some point when his coordination leaves the building, he decides to drink straight out of the bottle. he's hurting, and it just doesn't stop, so he keeps going and going, knowing very well he's past his limit but the thoughts are still there and it hurts and it just doesn't stop. he pretty much gives himself alcohol poisoning over the course of the night, having drank a bit over a bottle of whiskey. maybe he threw a beer or two into the mix. or he found another bottle and went with that. anyway he doesn't have a good time. his body had enough of his bs, he drags himself into the bathroom, lets everything run its course, he crawls to bed and falls asleep within minutes, as opposed to the usual hours.

and the hangover he got from this, oh man. he swears he'll quit, but deep down, he knows he won't. such is the vicious cycle. he pretty much spends the day in bed or in the shower, eating foods he knows are safe. 'safe' as in 'will not cause me to vomit uncontrollably because i fucked up my stomach last night'. headache/feeling of rubber bands around his skull, light sensitivity, touch sensitivity, he got the usual going on. his hat spares him of even greater suffering. And all this could've been avoided if he drank water along with the liquor.

man alcoholism is my jam, i could go on and on about it. doubly so because i see small things in jeeg that make me go 👀, but not necessarily in a good way. he shows The Patterns™️ imo.

- 🥃🚬

oh yeah he is definitely a (barely) functioning alcoholic

i think lupin is secretly really worried about it but doesnt wanna bring it up bc like. jigen knows he has a problem, he doesnt need to be told that he does

[jungkxook]

—out of the blue. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 

⟶ genre: youtuber/gamer!jungkook + fluff / smut 

⟶ words: 5,204

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: catching your boyfriend bleaching and dyeing his hair for a livestream is definitely not what you expected — but it certainly has its perks.

⟶ warnings: established relationship, some attempt at humour, .2 seconds of sort of sub jungkook (you just like seeing him on his knees), you call jungkook a good boy, shower sex, hair pulling, oral sex, face riding, standing sex, breast play, cum eating, doggy style, unprotected sex, creampie

⟶ note: because blue haired jungkook has me feeling all sorts of things. also dedicating this to the lovely ryen @kithtaehyung​ because blue haired jungkook is getting her too and i hope this helps!! and thank you to the wonderful @gamerkooks​ and @stanrandomthings​ for always giving me inspiration for gamer jungkook <3

“What the hell are you doing?”

Jungkook has less than a second to react when he hears you bursting through the door of his bedroom, a guilty expression plastered on his face as if you’ve caught him in the midst of a much worse act than what he’s already currently doing ━ but the flustered scowl deepening your countenance is enough for him to certainly feel that way, because how else is he supposed to casually explain why he’s currently sitting shirtless in front of a camera?

Admittedly, the sight is odd enough, and there’s a split moment where your incredulous look is enough to make him feel as if he’s wronged you, and your six month long relationship with him, entirely before he remembers that he didn’t actually do anything wrong like cheat on you, but is actually just trying to dye his hair.

He’s sat in his gaming chair, camera and lights set up around him, and the monitor of his desktop all recording his face to the hundreds of thousands of viewers currently watching his livestream. He had told you well in advance about his aim to do a twenty-four hour live broadcast for his subscribers to both raise money for a donation and to countdown to his next subscriber milestone with the help of his friends ━ and had even asked you to help him plan the event, discussing it animatedly with you for the past month on various occasions ━ but mainly just because Jungkook is crazy enough to sit through a twenty-four hour stream and call it fun.

You had known most of how the entirety of the day would go. Starting from noon the previous day to now, almost an hour before the stream ends, thus far he’s done various gameplays from Minecraft to Overwatch to Among Us simultaneously with his friends who had offered to marathon with him the twenty-four hour event; had a period of time in which Jimin and Taehyung were over and cramped in his room to answer questions and talk to viewers but mostly just to create absolute chaos. You had been there for most of it, though you’re still trying to figure out if it’s a blessing or a curse that you were suckered into paying rent for your three bedroom apartment by Taehyung more than a year ago, and subsequently falling madly in love with Jungkook and forcing you to aid in his antics. You’ve been in a handful of his videos before, appearing in Twitch and YouTube streams, and in the background of vlogs in his channel and the channels belonging to the other boys; and, on that day for Jungkook’s twenty-four hour event, you had joined him at the start before being dragged away for work and then tried to pull an all-nighter with him until you crashed on the couch in the living room, and checking in on him occasionally to give him food and water and to just generally make sure your boyfriend isn’t dead.

Now, with the remaining final hour dwindling down, you had been in your room trying to finish last minute essay writing for school, with your phone propped up on your desk and Jungkook’s livestream playing as background noise to your studying. One minute, he had been playing a round of Among Us, and the next, when you had glanced up, he had the bottle in hand and the detrimental blue dye coating his hair in slick globs. It wouldn’t have been so shocking, had you not seen Jungkook an hour ago when he had his natural dark hair still, and now he had somehow managed to sneak in bleaching his hair in the time you had left him. Maybe it was your fault for not catching it sooner, if only because you had sheepishly taken a small nap amidst your studying only to wake up to a nightmare.

Which is where that leaves you currently, dishevelled demeanour standing at the threshold of his door after chasing over to his room, watching as Taehyung helps Jungkook sufficiently ruin his beautiful hair which you love so much.

“Uh… Dyeing my hair?” Jungkook finally answers, dumbfounded. He’s fortunate he had pulled off his shirt to avoid getting hair dye on it, an old towel now draped around his shoulders to catch any excess mess. He adds brightly, “We asked for suggestions on how to end the stream and someone said I should dye my hair, so Tae got the stuff.”

“You bleached your own hair?” You retort, exasperated. “When the hell did all this happen? I’ve been next door to you the whole time! What if your hair falls out? You should’ve gotten a professional to do it, not Tae━”

Taehyung looks inexplicably offended by your slandering remarks on his (lack of) hair styling skills, retorting with, “Yo, what the━?”

Jungkook blinks, as if just being made aware of what he’s actually doing.

“My hair’s gonna fall out?” he gaps. “Guys, what the hell? Why’d no one tell me?”

He looks from you to Taehyung then over at the comments on his livestream which are currently flooding with the sole topic of you. His eyes snag the first few that appear to him in the frenzied influx of words:

uh oh jungkook’s sleeping on the floor tonight

oh shit run bro

f in the chat for jk’s hair

get him y/n!!!!

“Dude, she’s just being dramatic,” Taehyung waves you off. He ducks out of the way when you reach out to Jungkook’s bed for a pillow and chuck it at the older boy’s head.

“And when he’s bald, then what━”

“No!” A helpless Jungkook exclaims suddenly. He gestures wildly to the stream, “Don’t give them ideas. The edits are gonna start pouring in.”

“Jeon, look, it’s too late to go back now,” Taehyung says. “You’ve got half your head covered in dye and three minutes to go with the stream. How bad can it be?”

A groveling sigh eclipses your lips as you push yourself forward. “Then at least let me help before you ruin it completely.”

Jungkook’s fortunate, to say the least, though he’s left wondering if you’re truly upset with him.

He finishes the countdown to the end of his twenty-four hour stream with you and Taehyung putting the last remaining globs of dye on his hair, a heartfelt goodbye to his viewers who marathoned the stream with him, and a promise to update them on the status of his hair when he washes the dye out.

And, just as soon as he’s shut his camera off, the mundane world returns to him.

It’s no longer millions of anonymous and faceless viewers watching him from the other side of their screens in the tiny bubble that is his room, but just you and Taehyung and the older boy’s frisky little Pomeranian dog and the threat of a wallowing regret as Jungkook thinks to himself, what the hell did he truly just do to his hair?

At some point, Taehyung retreats to his girlfriend’s house taking Yeontan with him, leaving you alone with Jungkook and he basks in the sudden cozy quiet after twenty-four hours of madness as the adrenaline rush begins to fade and mellow out. Back aching, joints cracking and popping as he stretches and moves, and eyes burning in the similar way they do from having stared at a screen for too long, but tenfold, he craves nothing more than to find your sweet and comforting touch to end such a long day.

He finds you in the living room already scrolling through your phone and your Twitter feed to read and marvel at all the comments and memes made by his viewers during his stream and his heart threatens to burst through his chest because you’ve always been so supportive of him and his fans, and they’ve always adored you and your endless interactions with them. So, surely, you can’t be mad at him for bleaching and dyeing his hair. Right?

As his arms come to wrap around you from behind, face nuzzling in the crook of your neck, he hears you bemoan, “You look like a Smurf came on your head.”

Wrong.

Well, not entirely, he guesses. You do lean into his chest, practically melting against him. A sluggish grin tugs at his lips and, instead, he chooses to ask, “Shower with me?”

“Aren’t you tired, Koo?”

“Baby,” he deadpans, and your heart flutters just a little bit, “by this point, I’m running solely on Red Bull and coffee that I’m positive I could fight the gods with my bare hands and win. In fact, I’ve had so much caffeine that I’m fairly certain I’ve ascended to the astral plane. Besides, I need to wash this dye out, and I could use some help. Sleep can wait.”

“Help,” You snort. “You’re such a liar. I already know what you want.”

“To spend time with my beautiful girlfriend? You’re right.”

“I’m not sucking your dick.”

He pulls his head back to look at you. Though he tries to look offended, there’s the tiniest of smirks on his face. “Wasn’t gonna ask you!”

You turn to properly face him in his arms and shoot him a dubious glance. He leans down to press a chilling kiss to your jaw, then nudges his nose against you in the same spot so that you’ll move your head. You do so, despite your prior scolding, and let him kiss the underside of your jaw down to your neck.

“Okay, fine,” You huff finally.

You relent, miraculously, but Jungkook had already guessed you would the moment he had found you in the living room and he couldn’t be happier.

He cherishes the moments alone with you, has come to know them well as he falls into a comfortable routine with you away from prying eyes over the last few months. Because sometimes, as he comes to learn, it’s hard to establish a relationship when his job requires him to be in the spotlight often. What is authentic and what is simply fabricated for views is difficult to discern, and yet you’re patient with him. Not everything to him is money and views and numbers, or what his next big plan is, or how you could potentially help him in some way (despite knowing that any video featuring you seems to skyrocket his views and land his videos on the trending page of YouTube more often than not because he knows everyone loves you more than him). You know when he’s his online persona and when he’s simply just Jungkook, and while there’s hardly any difference between the two, his online personality surely has to maintain a level of privacy and happiness that may not always be true.

At least with you, he can just be himself. He can finally be at ease.

Showering together is just one of the many acts of normalcy he cherishes with you. So, he turns on the shower and lets the bathroom get all warm and balmy as you undress. He’s the first one inside, hissing in delight as he lets the water run over his sore muscles, washing out the dye in his hair firstly so as not to get it on you and fortunately not making too much of a mess of blue dye in the tub. You’ve joined him in an instant when he’s nearly done, squeezing into the space in front of him as you shut the glass door behind you, the pane already beginning to fog and slick with droplets of condensation. He pulls you into him once more, nestling his chin on your shoulder as his hands come to wrap around you. They slide across your front, all wet and soapy, briefly gliding across your breasts, palms brushing against your nipples before traveling down to your navel.

“Congrats, baby,” You coo gently. “Twenty-four hours.”

He murmurs into your hair, “Missed you loads though.”

You turn to look at him finally, and it’s hard not to stare. Your eyes land firstly on his abdomen and the toned muscles there, trailing up to his arm and the pretty tattoos that decorate every inch of his skin, to his soft pink lips and his big eyes. Then, there’s the matter of his hair. The water has done most of the work in washing out the dye from his hair, now falling across his forehead and into his eyes and cheekbones, and it’s only then that you fully register the dye has worked as you struggle to find any remnants of his once-ebony-then-blonde locks. The blue hair is an obvious stark contrast to his natural hair and, you think, it is pretty, accentuating his radiant skin and making his eyes pop.

“I didn’t think you were actually serious all those times you said you wanted to change your hair.” Your lips are pursed as you survey him now, your fingers twirling a strand of his tresses around and around as you inspect it.

He smiles, catching your hand and pressing a quick peck to your knuckles. “Neither did I,” he admits sheepishly. “It sort of just happened.”

You pout. “I’m gonna miss your natural hair.”

“Do you really hate it blue?”

“I don’t hate it. Was more scared you’d ruin your pretty hair and make it all fall out.”

At this, Jungkook flashes you a cheeky smile. He holds his head a little higher. “So you still think my hair is pretty?”

“I think you’re a dork,” You clarify. “And, aside from the fact you almost gave me a heart attack, I’d say the blue is so pretty. Beyond pretty. Kinda hot, if I’m being honest.”

Because you’re not really mad, but it’s fun just to tease Jungkook and see his reactions. At the very least, he can sense this, as it’s apparent with the way his smile stretches even wider on his face.

“Hot, huh?”

“Mhm. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

He feigns a look of mock hurt. “Oh no. You must be really mad. Want me to make it up to you?”

“How are you gonna do that?”

“Well, what do you want from me?”

You take a moment to think it over, but the answer is already obvious enough. It’s one that even he knows, and one that has won you over the moment Jungkook was freed from his stream. You hum aloud, “You, on your knees, head between my legs, like a good boy. Think I can get a better viewpoint of your hair from down there anyway before I judge it.”

“Like a good boy?” A dark smirk tugs at his face. “So now who’s the needy one?”

He lowers his head so that he’s leaving a trail of sloppy wet kisses down your neck to your collarbones. As you let yourself get carried away for a moment, you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him backwards until you’re pressed up against the glass door. He ducks even lower, kissing just above your left breast and then catching your nipple between his teeth. You swallow thickly, rubbing your thighs together, reminding yourself to respond to him.

“It’s not my fault when you were busy for the past day,” You pout. “And the blue hair really is sexy.”

“Aha!” he straightens up in front of you suddenly, a crooked smug smile on his face. “So I’m not just hot. I’m sexy.”

“You’re literally always sexy. And beautiful too. It’s almost unfair.”

“That’s even better.”

You tug your fingers at his damp locks. When you speak, your voice is a mix between urgency and a whine. “Jungkook. I could’ve already gotten off with my hand at this point.”

“Ouch, feisty!” He pokes his fingers at your sides. Then, nipping a little more firmly on the soft skin of your breast, murmurs huskily, “Alright, alright. But only if you call me a good boy again.”

Part of him is taunting you, but there’s a small sliver of intrigue that makes the thought in his head and the pretty words on your tongue excite him to no end.

Still, you choose to entertain him, maybe a little drowsily and entirely consumed by him, “I will if you let me ride your face.”

A rumble of a chuckle resonates from him. You find him on his knees in the next moment, wedging himself between your thighs. He nudges one of your legs and you follow the wordless command, hitching one thigh over his shoulder as you settle back against the glass door of the shower. He kisses at your hips as he dips his head lower and lower to where you want him, before swiping his tongue at your cunt, tasting all of you at once.

“Mmm, Koo━” A soft whimper sounds from you, making his head swim.

He wastes no time in lapping at your folds, tongue delving into you deeper and deeper as he cranes his neck. The wetness that pools between your legs and on the tip of his tongue is a sticky mess that he basks in just a little longer.

“Fuck,” he groans into your pussy, “you taste so fucking good. Missed this so much.”

His hands are big as they come to hold you close, cradling your ass, your thighs, your hips, anything to pull you into him while simultaneously pushing your thighs further apart.

You manage to find your voice and quip weakly, “Missed me or having your head between my legs?”

“You, definitely,” he murmurs. He busies himself by reaching out with his thumb to press circles against your clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, hips rutting into his face. “All of you.”

“Jungkook━ Fuck━”

He burrows further into you, humming in response. His nose brushes against your clit, the muscle of his tongue a pleasant wet that makes you warm all over. You give another experimental swivel of your hips, grinding against his tongue just right. He pinches at your hips as if to probe you onward, and then you do it again, and again, desperately rocking your hips back and forth against him. Your fingers reach out to grab a fistful of his hair, clutching it so tightly he hisses. But you’re right. The blue locks look dazzling between your legs, being pulled by your hands as you push him further into you.

His eyes meet yours from below your waist, hooded and idle, enjoying the view as you squirm and writhe above him, shamelessly riding his face. Grinding against his chin, nose, and tongue, the slick wetness you leave behind glistens on his skin.

“Ah, Koo━” You cry out. “Fuck, I’m gonna━!”

Your orgasm hits you violently, sending you keeling. Your hips continue with reckless abandon, and Jungkook presses his finger against your clit a little harder, a little faster. The abrupt gushing warmth between your thighs sends your mind spinning, as the steam from the shower and your panting breaths begin to fog the bathroom. When your hips begin to slow, Jungkook laps at the rest of your leaking core before pulling away with a grin brandishing his shimmering face. He lets you pull him up eagerly, clumsy hands fumbling to hold either side of his face as you tug at him.

“God, you’re so hot, babe,” he sighs wistfully, smothering your lips with his for an all too chaste kiss, before leaning in once more to nibble at your lower lip.

“Wanna feel you, Koo,” You prompt urgently. “Want you in me.”

Jungkook hastens to comply, his hands falling to your waist. “Go on, then. Turn around for me.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You spin so that you’re facing the glass sliding door, your back to him. You watch him over your shoulder, momentarily admiring his well built stature, the tattoos that ink his body, and the water that shimmers on his skin. He has to push his wet hair up and away when it falls across his forehead and then he reaches down to grasp at his length, grip tight around his shaft so that he can pump himself sluggishly a few short times. It’s almost painful to watch him jerk himself off in front of you, the tip a burning red and glistening. He catches you staring and decides to catch you off guard when he grabs a hold of your hips with one hand. He yanks you towards him, your ass pressed firmly against his hips, making you jump from the startle, and grins when you look back at him.

Then, ever so slowly, he runs the length of his cock along your folds. Before you can brace yourself for the overwhelming rush of pleasure, he’s sliding his cock past your folds, burrowing into you deep. He curses behind you, his other hand flying out to steady himself by digging into your hip.

“Fffuck. Shit.” He dips his head so that his cheek is resting against your shoulder and sputters for air. “Jesus, fuck━ Been dying to feel you all day.”

He fits so snugly in you, so perfectly, just like always and you take him so well, coaxed by your own arousal. He ruts his hips forward into yours and you nearly fall forward before catching yourself by pressing your palms to the glass. Then, he’s grinding against you, small and precise thrusts that roll into your hips.

“Mmm, Jungkook,” you choke out. “You feel so━ So good.”

“Ah, shit,” he hisses. “Wanna wreck you so bad.”

He angles his chest a little more, pummels his dick into you in such a way that he’s hitting a different spot in you. His eyes stay fixated on the soft, round flesh of your ass and the way his cock slips so easily into you, brows screwed in concentration, jaw clenched. The slight bounce of your ass each time he rolls his hips firmly against you, the way you ricochet forward each time in tandem with his moves. You bow your head, pressing your temple against the glass door now tinted with condensation, only marked up by the imprints of your fingers grasping at anything. It’s almost sweltering hot in the shower now but you both pay no mind to it. He fucks into you with such languid, steady strides, cock beginning to throb and twitch in anticipation. You feel so wet, such a pitiless mess between your thighs already that it makes him growl.

“H-Harder,” You mewl. “Oh, Koo━”

He almost slips behind you in his eagerness to obey, awakening something animalistic in him, a yearning to just release all the tension in his core. This time, he adapts a measured pace, forceful thrusts that have you crying out in delight each time. One hand reaches up to grip at your shoulder to steady himself while his other slithers around your front to grasp at your breasts, all wet and supple, pinching at your nipples.

“So good,” he moans, pressing sloppy kisses just below your ear. His breath is hot as he pants behind you, sending tingles down your spine. “Fuck━”

His voice is cut off by a whine, hips bucking forward in an unsolicited manner as he feels his high drawing near. You lean your head onto his shoulder, stretching your arm out so that you can tug desperately at his hair. It’s a silent, simple command, but it’s one that he immediately understands even without you speaking.

“Wanna feel you━” You whimper. “Wanna see you.”

Jungkook nearly slips as he fumbles to pull out of you, hissing at the loss of warmth and friction. As soon as you’ve turned to face him, he wastes no time in closing the distance between you. He pushes his leaking cock past your folds once more and continues at the same pace as if he had never even stopped to begin with.

“Fuck,” he whines. “Not gonna last━”

You wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him even closer to you, as he presses you against the glass. He hitches one of your thighs around his waist, spreading your legs just wide enough to hit a certain spot that has both of you crying out. You’re clinging so tightly to him, fingers digging harshly into his skin in an attempt to alleviate the building pressure you feel. He knows you’ve almost reached your end when you resort to a gasping, moaning mess, writhing beneath his broad stature.

“Close, baby?” he hums.

You open your mouth to respond but can only muster a whimper. His pace treads over to heedlessly frantic, the sound of skin against skin and the lewd wetness filling the shower. Despite his hips pounding into yours so harshly, his fingers flutter so delicately under your chin, grasping it and moving your head just enough so that you’re facing him.

“Lemme see you,” he grunts. “Wanna watch you when you cum all over my cock. Always so pretty.”

“I━ I’m━ Fuck, Koo━”

But you can’t finish your thought.

You keep your gaze fixated on Jungkook’s, however exhausted and weary it may be. Your lashes flutter, brows knit together, and you suck your lower lip between your teeth, biting so hard Jungkook’s certain you’ll bruise it. Another few hard thrusts and then you’re reaching your high, overcome by such an intense burning that you can’t help but look away out of instinct. You cry his name, face contorting in pure pleasure, and chest arching to meet his. You’re clenching so tightly around him has him sputtering for air, nearly collapsing entirely against you. You’re near dripping around his cock which only means he almost slips from you with each draw of his hips that he makes. It’s why he sloppily rocks his hips into yours, desperate to reach his own high as well.

When you return to your senses, blinking away your blurry vision, you can make out Jungkook cooing into your ear, “That’s it, baby. Doing so well.”

You meet his gaze once more, only this time you’re perhaps even more tired. Hooded eyes watch him, silently probing him to his climax. He comes tumbling towards it, a few more short thrusts of his hips and, finally, he’s there. He slams his hips up into yours one final time, crying out, and then he’s releasing into you in an overwhelming abrupt gush. Only he can’t quite enjoy it because, out of genuine accident and driven by impatience to just get off, the last jerk of his hips hits you a little too hard.

It’s what causes you to slip backward and he, so lost in his own reverie, hardly has a proper grip on you or where he’s standing. When you lose your footing beneath you, slipping on the wet porcelain of the tub, and comes crashing down, he’s brought along with you. “Oh, fuck━!”

The both of you yelp from the surprise, your hands flailing out to brace yourself for the fall.

Fortunately, you land on him when you reach the bottom of the tub, courtesy of him grabbing onto you last second so that he can soften the blow upon impact.

Unfortunately, the breath is knocked out of him from the startle and from the sudden added weight of you on top of him with no warning.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he groans.

“In hindsight,” You wince as you shift your weight above him, “maybe having sex in the shower again wasn’t the greatest idea. Remember last time when we knocked the shower curtain down and I had to get stitches on my elbow? It’s why we got the glass door installed, and then we had to lie to Tae about it.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” He tilts his head back, rubbing a hand over his face. Then, he flashes you an all too charming smirk. “Was kinda worth it though.”

You giggle, sounding so sweet and angelic, even despite the way his cum still leaks from you. Somewhere in the fall, his dick had slipped from you and now lays softening on his stomach which, really, is probably the worst part of the accident to him. He already misses the warmth of you wrapped around him, your mingling cum a dirty mess around him. You prop yourself up on his chest with your palms, but before you can even think to respond, you notice something out of the corner of your eye.

A small mass of fur in the shape of little Yeontan has just poked his head through the crack in the door, oblivious to you and Jungkook’s compromising position. And then, shortly following behind him, is his equally oblivious owner who must have forgotten something in the apartment to bring him back so suddenly.

“Tannie, get back here━ We gotta go━ Oh, Jesus, what the fuck?” Taehyung appears at the door for a millisecond before noticing the situation he’s just stumbled upon. Thankfully, he acts fast, and clamps a hand over his tainted eyes, clumsily scooping up Yeontan in his other hand. “Can you guys please stop fucking all over this damn apartment? My son’s eyes are too pure for this!”

And then he’s retreating, but not before bumping blindly into the doorframe, grumbling along the way. It’s silent for a moment as you and Jungkook gawk at one another; then you hear Taehyung leave the apartment once more, and the both of you dissolve into a fit of unabashed laughter.

“Are you okay?” You ask once you’ve calmed down enough as he reaches out to shut the shower off. You plant a kiss in your boyfriend’s hair. “You hit your head coming down.”

Jungkook’s heart swells at your gentle touches and smiles. “I’m fine,” he promises brightly. “You?”

“Well, you did just thoroughly fuck me, so━” You shrug innocently. “I’m kinda still too giddy to even care.”

“I’m gonna make it up to you,” he says. “For almost giving you a heart attack with my hair and for almost putting you in the emergency room again just now.”

The mention of his hair draws your attention to it once more. It’s not as wet as before, damp azure waves falling into his eyes that you brush away gingerly.

“Yeah,” You snort, “but I’ve decided I like your hair. Like, really like it.”

“Yeah?” he grins wide. “What was the deciding factor?”

You pause, as if to think for a moment. Exhaustion riddles your body and you know sleeping curled up next to Jungkook is nearing your future, but for now you let yourself entertain the last remnants of whatever lewd thoughts are still on yours and his minds before they fizzle away completely. You can’t help yourself anyway. The blue really is nice.

“Definitely the view of you eating me out,” You say. “And can’t forget how pretty it looks when I’m pulling at your hair.”

“Say no more,” he beams. “Then I’ll make it up to you by making you cum on my tongue again and again and again.”

The last thing he hears before he grabs at your cheek to softly pull you down to him for one last kiss, slow and ardent, is a bubbly giggle from you that delights him to no end.

“That’s a good boy.”

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

[h0tchner]

Any Age, Any Day, Anywhere (Part 1) - aaron hotchner x fem!reader

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: WRITTEN FOR AN ANON REQUEST: "ok hi so u already wrote a jealous reader and was wondering whats your take on jealous hotch? i mostly see him in fics as possessive and yeah being the leader type i would think he could also be possessive but i also think that he would just be sad like ya know he doubts himself as we saw in some episodes and i think he would need assurance and a lot of convincing that u only love him but if you’ve given that to him then thats the time he would be possessive and god i would love to imagine a possessive and feral aaron hotchner"

word count: 3.5k

includes: kissing, so much freaking adorable fluff, talk of body insecurities, insecure!hotch, protective!hotch, wifey reader, super brief mentions of pregnancy, alcohol, confrontation with a drunk asshole (derek & hotch are all over it tho dw), party at papa rossi's!, smut to come in next chapter...

rating: 18+ (technically there is no smut in this part, but there are adult themes such as drinking, kissing, etc.).

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! This is part one of a two-part fic! The next part will be pure filth, so keep your eyes peeled for some feral hotch content... ALSO! PLS (!!!!!!!!!!!) interact if you liked this, rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

“Aaron! Can you come here for a sec?” you call out to your husband from the bathroom, muttering curses under your breath as you try (and fail) for the third time to zip up the back of your black cocktail dress.

“Sure, I just need a minute,” he replies from the bedroom closet, securing the last opalescent button on the arm of his white dress shirt. He looks at himself in the closet mirror, zeroing in at the bags under his eyes and the sprinkling of grey in his stubble. He looks… tired. Tired and old. And he hates it.

Even though Aaron is only in his late-40s, he has lived lifetimes; years of working as Unit Chief of the BAU will do that to a man. Every horror he’s seen and every person he’s lost has weighed on his body and mind. In the past few months, amidst work changes and a new baby, he’s been exhausted and in fear that he’s letting himself go. Of course, being the stoic man that he is, he’s done his absolute best to hide these feelings from you. Tonight, however, he doesn’t know if he can. It’ll be your first night out together as a couple since welcoming baby girl Hotchner to the family four months ago. With no pressing family or work distractions, he just knows that you’ll be able to sense his apprehensions. It’s only a matter of when.

Taking in a breath, he turns a little to the side, frowning at his profile. Aaron winces a little at his “dad bod,” but quickly recovers from the discomfort, milliseconds after it flashes across his face.

“Aaron Hotchner get your handsome butt in here and help me zip my dress! We’re gonna be late,” you exclaim, trying one last time to reach the zipper before giving up and crossing your arms in defeat. You lean back lightly against the countertop facing the door, letting the fabric slip off your shoulders, and wait for your husband to rescue you from the hell that is this dress.

At the sound of your voice, Aaron snaps out of his trance. He shakes his head lightly, as if to physically erase the intrusive thoughts, and clears his throat. Grabbing his suit jacket off the hanger, he flicks off the closet light and closes the door behind him.

Languidly, he meanders from the closet toward the bathroom. He drags his feet a little longer than he normally would, still feeling off and a little bit shy about his appearance.

“Aaron,” you sing, “I’m waiting for –,” your jaw drops mid-sentence when Aaron appears in the doorway.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe out before you can stop yourself, eyes widening at the sight of the gorgeous man in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, crossing over to you, searching your face for any ounce of reprieve.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong,” you’re quick to reply, standing from your leaning position to meet him, holding out your hands.

He takes them in his own, cocking his head slightly, his soft hazel eyes boring into yours.

You shift forward, moving up on your toes to peck his soft pink lips.

He sighs into the kiss, feeling the warmth of your lips against his own. It feels so good that it almost makes him forget about how he is feeling… almost. But the dark thoughts come back, and he pulls away from you a bit, reluctantly.

Aaron clears his throat.

“You called me?” He questions, but it sounds more like a fact.

“Yeah,” you give his hands a squeeze. “I needed you to zip up my dress, but now,” you lean in again, “I kinda want you to rip it off me.” You offer him a sultry smirk, moving your hands up to rest on his broad chest. He moves his hands to settle on your hips.

You lick your lips and let your eyes rake over his body, taking in every ounce of his sexy frame. The way his crisp, white dress shirt hugs his solid body makes you go weak in the knees. His strong, toned legs in those black dress pants? Yes please. His soft black hair and salt and pepper stubble on his face are practically begging to be touched. He looks good. Damn good.

“You look…” you pause, tapping a finger lightly against his pectoral, searching for the right word, “…delicious.”

Aaron blushes lightly at your ogling, offering you a sad smile as he squeezes his eyes shut out of embarrassment.

You sense the falter in his demeanor, knowing that there’s something else nagging at him far beyond his usual flustering when you vocalize your attraction to him.

“Honey,” you implore, looping your hands around his neck to bring his forehead down to touch yours. “What’s going on in that big, beautiful brain of yours?”

“It’s nothing,” he mutters, swallowing, rubbing soft circles into your sides.

“It’s something,” you counter, carding a hand through his hair at the nape of his neck. You scratch lightly at his scalp, waiting for him to speak. You’ve learned that the best thing to do when Aaron gets in a mood is to give him some time to gather his thoughts. Keeping him close, physically, is a way to show him some comfort without pressuring him to speak. It encourages him, without words, that your arms are a safe place.

“I don’t…” he starts, and then stops himself. His dark eyebrows furrow and his mouth presses into a thin line.

“Mhm?” you question, fingers still tangled in his thick, black locks.

He pulls his forehead away from yours and locks eyes with you. You let your hands be still now, a silent gesture to show him that you’re listening.

He takes in a breath.

“I don’t look the way I used to,” he says quietly, shifting his eyes away from yours.

“What do you mean,” you urge him to continue.

“I mean, I don’t look like I did five years ago. Two years ago. Four months ago. I mean, I was practically a different man when we first met. I was younger, fitter…” he trails off, visibly upset.

“Yes, Aaron, you were,” you agree, keeping your tone temperate.

His eyes snap to yours, confused. It’s clear that was not what he was expecting you to say.

“You were a different man,” you continue gently, resuming your pacifying touch in his hair, “and I was a different woman.”

Aaron lets out a huff.

“Do you love me any less now than you did five years ago?” You ask him.

“Of course not,” he’s quick to answer.

“Why is that?” You prod.

“You’re gorgeous, inside and out. You’re funny, smart, loving…” he begins, but you interrupt him before he can go on.

“And,” you butt in, “if I were to go completely grey, gain thirty pounds, and only wear a potato sack to work every day would you love me any less?”

Aaron huffs again, but this time he’s fighting a smile. He’s starting to catch on. You watch as a spark of levity returns to his eyes. He holds you a little tighter.

“No. There’s nothing you could do or say to make me love you any less,” he grumbles in annoyance, but his upturned lip and matching eyebrow tell a different story.

“Ditto, baby,” you smile up at him. “I love you at any age, any day, anywhere, and there is nothing in the world that can make me change my mind.”

He dips down then, capturing you in a kiss, grinning against your lips.

You giggle as Aaron works his way down your jawline and neck, gasping as he kisses the soft skin at the junction of your neck and shoulder, thick fingers gripping the sides of your hips. He moves his lips back up to your earlobe, nipping at it lightly as you let out another soft gasp.

“You always know the right thing to say,” he whispers into your ear, pressing another kiss right underneath it.

“Aaron, I know I said I wanted you to take this dress off me,” you say breathlessly as Aaron nips at your shoulder again, “but Rossi will kill us if we don’t show up tonight. Plus, I really want the chance to show off my super sexy FBI husband. It’s been far too long.”

He lets out a low groan into your skin and gives your hips a squeeze, nuzzling his head into your neck.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “you’re right.”

“Aren’t I always,” you snort, eliciting a chuckle from your husband as you turn around in his arms to let him zip you up.

He takes his time, letting his fingers brush lightly over your spine as he draws the zipper over your back. When he’s done and the clasp is latched, he kisses one shoulder lightly, and then the other.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning back against his warm body.

“No, honey,” he kisses the top of your head, “thank you.”

_____________________________________________________________

By the time you and Aaron arrive at Rossi’s mansion, the party is already in full swing. Judging by the number of cars in the makeshift parking lot on his spacious front lawn, there must be at least fifty, maybe even a hundred people here.

Despite the bustle of the evening, it doesn’t take long for you two to find Emily, Penelope, and Derek in the living room, drinks in hand, snacking on some very expensive looking food.

“Hey, look! It’s the Hotchners!” Emily cheers, teetering on the arm of the leather couch, wine glass in hand.

“Hello beautiful BAU power-couple!” Penelope chimes in from the seat next to her, cuddled up into Derek’s side.

You laugh and let go of Aaron’s hand, walking over to greet your friends.

“Hey hot stuff, look at you, look at you!” Derek chimes in, eyeing you up and down before standing to shake Aaron’s hand.

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes at him as you give Emily a big hug.

“And you don’t look bad yourself, boss man!” Derek adds.

You shoot your husband an ‘I told you so’ look over your shoulder, before untangling your arms from Emily and giving Penelope an equally enthusiastic squeeze.

“It’s good to see you all,” Aaron smiles lightly, all dimples in the low light. He steps in to give Emily and Penelope soft hugs.

“Let’s go get you a drink,” Derek says to Aaron, clapping him on the back.

“White?” Aaron looks to you, even though he already knows the answer.

“Yes please,” you respond, “thank you.”

“Be back soon,” he smiles easily, kissing your cheek, making your heart ache.

Aaron and Derek turn and exit the room together.

Penelope drunkenly pats the seat next to her, and you plop down on the couch.

“We’ve missed you like this!” Emily exclaims, gesturing between the three of you and around the room. “I can’t believe we’ve had to wait nine whole months plusanother four just to have a drink with our best friend again.”

You laugh at her, tilting your head back lightly. “Well, you guys got a beautiful little niece out of it, doesn’t that make up for all the wild girl’s nights I missed?”

Emily sighs, dramatically, “I guess so,” she jests.

“Oh, for sure.” Penelope adds. “You look freaking gorgeous, by the way. I mean, I would have never guessed you were creating a tiny human in that body only a few months ago!”

You blush lightly at her words, “You flatter me far too much, Pen. I owe this,” you gesture down at your figure, “all to Spanx!”

“Amen!” Emily toasts. You raise an imaginary glass to theirs and pretend to clink, taking a swig of invisible liquid.

“Are J.J. and Will here?” You ask them after they’ve had a few more sips of their wine.

“Yeah, yeah,” Emily nods, “they’re around somewhere.”

You take a moment and look around the room, taking in all the sights and the sounds of the party. You see some faces you recognize from around the bureau, but others you don’t. Just as you’re about to turn back to your friends, someone catches your eye. One face stands out from the crowd: he’s a young, suave-looking man in a sharp navy suit. Sandy hair perfectly gelled, shiny brown loafers, and bright blue eyes looking right at you. In another life you would have been exhilarated by his attention, apparent charm, and good looks, but now? Now, you’re married to the love of your life with an amazing stepson and a wonderful baby girl. His wolfish gaze means absolutely nothing to you. You simply flash him a curt smile and turn back to Emily and Penelope without a second thought.

You and your friends resume your chatter, waiting for the men to return with more drinks... only they don’t. Perhaps its “new mother anxiety” talking, but the longer your husband is gone, the more you start to grow concerned. A few more minutes pass of antics, laughter, and catching up until the nagging voice in the back of your head turns into an all-out scream. All you know is that you’re suddenly feeling very overwhelmed need to be with Aaron. So, you announce to your friends that you’re going to hunt down Derek and your husband.

You stand from the couch and smooth out the skirt of your dress with the promise to be back in a few minutes.

You walk out of the living room and into the grand foyer, following the same route as Aaron had earlier. Your black kitten heels click on the marble flooring, the skirt of your dress swishing lightly as you walk with purpose towards the kitchen. You’re so concentrated on reaching your destination that you don’t realize the man who had been watching you in the living room was now hot at your heels, following you through the house. It’s only when a hand reaches out and jerks your arm backward that you stop, startled, just past the grand staircase, turning face to face with him.

“You’re not an easy woman to get alone,” he smirks, reeking of alcohol, still gripping your arm, tight. Up close he is decidedly not as handsome as the low light of the living room made him seem. In fact, he seems… creepy. Really, really, really, creepy.

“Can I help you?” You blink at him, pulling your arm out of his vice grip.

“You sure can, baby,” he steps closer to you, voice oozing with sleaze. You gag at the liquor on his breath.

Moving away, you scowl at him, crossing your arms across your chest.

“What’s say you and I head upstairs for a little while? I’m dying to get my hands on your body.” He jerks his head toward the staircase, reaching out to grab your arm again.

You’re fuming at this point, ready give him a piece of your mind when a stern voice beats you to it.

“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” Aaron articulates, approaching you both with Derek not far behind.

You breathe a sigh of relief as your husband glares at the drunken man vengefully, coming to stand by your side. Aaron pulls you into him, roughly, hand tight around your waist. The anger radiating off your husband is equally terrifying and HOT.

“Take a walk, man,” Derek adds in, coming to stand next to the drunken asshole. The man looks from you, to Aaron, then over to Derek, and finally back at you.

“Whatever,” the man grumbles, putting his hands up, “she’s not worth it anyway. Not pretty enough for the hassle. I just thought she looked like an easy lay.”

“That’s enough,” Aaron snaps, seething. “Leave now, before I make you,” your husband growls. He angles his body forward so you’re slightly behind him. A shiver passes through you at his fierce protectiveness.

“Fine, I’m going to get another drink,” the man utters.

“No,” Aaron interjects, “the party. Leave the party or I’ll have you removed.”

“What’s your problem?” The creepy man retorts, this time, more confrontationally.

“My problem?” Aaron says, angrily. You feel his entire body tense at the accusation.

“Hotch,” Derek warns, “I’ll take care of it. You guys go enjoy yourselves. Forget about him.”

“Come on, Aaron,” you tug on his suit jacket lightly, eyes pleading… but Aaron doesn’t budge from his spot. He only holds you tighter as he continues to stare down the man as Derek ushers him away and towards the front door. He doesn’t falter until they are out of sight.

“Aaron?” You repeat.

He looks down at you, finally, blinking away the fury until all that’s left is an all-consuming love. He releases you from his protective hold, and you face him.

“I’m okay,” you assure him in earnest, letting out a shaky breath.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” he breathes, bringing his hands up to cup your face.

“Aaron, it’s okay, really,” you bite your lip, shifting your eyes away from his.

“You’re so beautiful,” Aaron kisses your forehead, and then the top of your head. “So, so beautiful, and I’m so sorry.”

“Aaron, can we just go home?” You ask.

“Sure,” he kisses your head one last time before weaving his fingers between yours and guiding you gently toward the back exit.

_____________________________________________________________

The car ride home is quiet. The only sounds are the occasional click of the turn signal, and the hum of the wheels on the road. Aaron is still upset, and so are you, but you’re also… something else. Something you can’t quite put your finger on. You feel guilty for ruining the evening, guilty that you FEEL guilty for something you had no control over, hungry, tired, and… horny? Oh, and guilty for feeling horny.

It isn’t helping that one of Aaron’s hands is planted firmly on your thigh. He lifts it only to adjust the air conditioning or to scratch his nose, but otherwise it remains on you the whole way home. When he pulls into the driveway of your shared house, and shuts the car off, he still doesn’t move it.

“Honey?” You turn your head to look at him. His eyes are closed. You take in the strong features of his profile, noting the prominence of his nose and the way his eyelashes rest on his high cheekbones.

“I almost punched him.” Aaron whispers, opening his eyes to look over at you sheepishly.

“You what,” you exhale, mouth slightly agape.

“That guy,” he continues, bringing his left hand up to pinch his nose. “I almost punched him for saying that about you.”

You snort, amused by his confession.

Your husband lets out a short laugh, squeezing your thigh as he does.

“I would’ve liked to see that.” You’re grinning now and so is he.

He flashes his eyes at you and laughs again, this time less anxiously. You join him, feeling the tension dissipate with every passing moment.

“My big, bad FBI man decking a barely-legal drunk dickhead for making a move on his wife? Where can I get my tickets?” You joke.

As you say the words “his wife,” Aaron’s breath hitches in his throat. His hand on your thigh presses down instinctively. Neither of his reactions go unnoticed.

You lay a hand over his where it rests on your leg.

“You know, Aaron,” you begin.

He looks over at you, jaw tight, but this time it isn’t from anger.

“This is the first time we’ve had the house all to ourselves in months,” you pull his hand off you and bring it up to your lips. You press a kiss to his palm, and then to his wrist.

“This… is true,” he breathes out, studying you, taking you in.

“So, I’m just wondering:” you grin, linking your fingers with his, “are you going to carry your wife into our house, Aaron? Or do I have to walk myself?”

[hansensgirl]

not all who wander are lost.

summary. | He’s got your name on his tattoo, wearing the same damn clothes since three days ago. A bottle of gin in his hand, and you’d say he’s just wandering.

warnings. | Strangers to lovers, smut, naive reader, mentions of trauma, angst, fluff, slight violence, slight dub/con, slight blasphemy, drinking, DD/LG, daddy kink, corruption kink, ring/hand kink, size kink, creampie kink, teasing, spanking, choking, spitting, manhandling, praise, male masturbation, handjob, degradation, a bit of humiliation, oral sex, virginity loss, marking, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI.

word count. | 11k

pairings. | Daddy!Destroyer!Chris x Little!Reader.

a/n. | one of the few fics inspired/based off of chemtrails over the country club. please heed the warnings and don’t forget to reblog. ily! thank you so much to @dragon-of-dreams @mypoisonedvine @tenuntilfightcall and everyone else for helping me out with some information! and thank you to my bb sara @asadmarveltrashbag for beta-ing and being there for me during this insane month, ilysm!!

The first time he laid eyes on you, was six months ago.

Meadows like the ones that surround him only exist in movies and Instagram posts. But even those need editing for perfection. Yet, the ones around him made him feel as though he has camera lenses for his eyes. Each piece of grass is a beautiful green, and some had flowers between them. His thighs may hurt but the view is a reward for all the trouble he just went through. A cute cottage lies on the hill he stands on. It resembles one from a Pinterest board but he doesn’t mind.

Birds chirp, sheep bleat, cows low and chickens cluck amongst Ella Fitzgerald's rendition of Summertime. Chris walks a few more steps and onto the porch he goes. This isn’t his destination. Well, technically, it is. But he isn’t supposed to be knocking on your door like he is now, and his heart shouldn’t be beating out of his chest. To the right of this cottage — Chris’s right — is another cottage.

It’s more modern than he’d prefer it to be. It only looks so because inside lives a drug lord who is on the run. It’s truly unfortunate his girlfriend sold him out for immunity. He knocks on the wooden door and takes a step back. Who knows what kind of person is behind it. “Coming!” your sweet voice calls. Chris doesn’t let go of his grip on his gun that’s down the waist of his pants.

Even the sweetest seeming things can always end up being sour.

You struggle not to trip over your own dress. The tail of it drags behind you and sweeps the floor, too. But it makes you feel just like a princess, so you don’t care. On your hip is a basket, and inside is Cotton. Your bunny. She’s been your company for years, and you don’t know what you’d do without her. Barely anyone visits anymore, only because cars can’t handle the long drive up and many people hate nature. But when the occasional knock on your door echoes throughout the house, you can barely keep your excitement inside.

You open the door and gasp. The man… is brooding. And he’s not the type of broody that would grumble insults under his breath or the type that would stalk people, either. He’s the dreamy type, the man your parents say is bad news when really he just needs love. You take in his form. You can tell he’s slightly tired and you just have to give him credit for walking up to your home. He has no flaws, except for the dirt that stains his clothing.

“Hi, do you live here?” the strange man asks, looking around the inside of your home. You jump and you’re not sure why but your skin raises with goosebumps. His voice is deep yet so soft-spoken. For some odd reason, his hand is reaching backwards and you assume that it’s because he has some sort of ache from the walk. You finally register his words and look up at him.

“Y- yes, do you live here?” you stupidly ask. You don’t even realize what you just said until you noticed his puzzled look. “Oh, sorry,” you look down and notice that his black boots are covered in pollen, something that can be oh so bothersome. “‘S’alright, I was hiking a- and I don’t have anywhere to go… Do you think you could let me stay here?” he asks, letting go of the gun. “Uhm, s- sure, what’s your name?” you ask him, moving out of the way.

Naive, so fucking naive.

“Chris, what’s yours?” he asks, stepping inside. You give him your name and he nods. He goes to wipe his shoes on the rug in front of the door but there is no rug. You hand him a rag and he gratefully takes him, mumbling a small ‘thank you.’ “Are you a tourist?” you ask him, setting your basket down onto the floor. Cotton hops out of it and runs off to the kitchen, probably to chew on your apron. “No…” he solemnly answers. He hands you the rag back and you shyly take it.

“O- okay… Are you a photographer? I’ll tell you God’s truth, the most beautiful photos are taken when the sun rises, when it sets and when it’s raining,” you pointedly inform him. You drop the rag into your basket and turn back around, your dress spinning in a slight swirl. His eyes rake your body up and down, taking in every inch of your body. Red cloth with white polka dots covers your body and your mushroom earrings bring the entire outfit together.  Chris has to assume that the heavens above or whatever the fuck else is there have handcrafted you to absolute perfection.

He’s never read any stories about Greek gods, but he knows that Zeus would be absolutely infatuated with you. He takes note of how your body tenses up when he makes eye contact with you, and he gives you a small smile.

“I’m not a photographer,” he clarifies, looking around. He can’t believe you let him in just like that, but the more he found, the more he understood why. A lonely, innocent little girl like you doesn’t have anyone to tell you right from wrong. “Then what are you, sir? Are you lost? I can call the Consulate if you’d like,” you offer, walking towards him. “I’m not lost… I’m a wanderer,” he whispers almost hesitatingly.

“But you only ever wander when you’re lost, no?” you confusingly ask him. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, before peering out of the window. Luckily, he has a direct view of the other cottage. He really did hit the jackpot. “Not all who wander are lost, little girl. Now tell me, why would you let a stranger inside your home?” he asks you.

Cotton hops from the kitchen to your bedroom, and you stand in place. “I… Well, I’m not sure. You didn’t give me any reason to not let you in or to make me believe you’re dangerous, sorry…” you shyly tell him. “Don’t apologize, just know that not everyone in this world is good. There’s always going to be someone with a little more darkness than the rest of us…”

Chris unzips his duffle bag, and you let out a giggle. “Quite ominous of you, but then again, it suits your whole aesthetic. The cool, bearded man, with his cool words,” you smile at him, but it carries a bit of sadness. “Treat this place as your own, make yourself at home. And if you need anything, I’m always here.”

Chris stays at the window for most of his days. Always with a pair of binoculars and a pack of saltine crackers. Sometimes, he pulls a juice bottle out of his duffle bag, You’ve countlessly offered him something that’s actually filling, such as angel cake and sandwiches. He rejects them all, and you wonder if he’s some sort of super-human. But technology hasn’t invented wireless technology yet, so it’s impossible.

“Uhm, Mr. Chris-Sir? I don’t think those crackers are good for you, they’re all you eat…” you sheepishly admit, carrying a cup of water to him. The mug has a little frog painted on it, but the green paint has chipped away over seven years. You set it down gently, onto the table next to him and Chris just stares out at the cottage. “Bird-watching is so cool, isn’t it? If you see a robin, let me know, they’re so beautiful,” you tell him, before walking off.

At first, he doesn’t take in your words. But once they’ve settled deep in his mind and sunk in, he realizes that you assume he’s bird-watching. He’d honestly take any other assumption, but at least you don’t know he’s spying on the criminal next door. He looks down at the table with a sigh and then notices what you’ve done. Not only did you set a cup of water down, but you also gave him two slices of toast. One has strawberry jam on it, and the other has melted butter.

His mouth surprisingly salivates, but it also doesn’t shock him. Every day he sits there, basking in the beautiful smell of your food and humming. His personal favourite is the smell of focaccia bread being baked. He watches and waits until you leave the room to go tend to the chickens. Apparently, one of them laid a few eggs. He quickly shovels the two slices of toast into his mouth and downs the glass of water like a starved man. Because he is one.

Cotton hopes around once again but all Chris sees is a fluffy white blur. He recalls his memories from when he was younger. Younger him always wanted a pet. Even a fish that would die in the span of two weeks would suffice. But his mom couldn’t afford it, so he dropped the idea. Sometimes, he wishes he had dropped other ideas, as well. Like the idea that he’d enjoy life as an undercover agent, or the idea of sacrificing himself for Erin.

His fingers are sticky with jam. He hates the feeling. He spreads his fingers out and goes to get up from his seat. “Shit,” he curses, realizing that something may happen while he’s away from the window. He stands there, contemplating whether or not he should risk his mission just to wash the fucking jam off of his stupid fucking hands. He calls your name, loudly, hoping you’ll hear him all the way outside the cottage.

“Is everything alright?” you shout, running inside the house. He didn’t expect that reaction, but he’ll take it. You’re holding onto the corner of two walls, slightly bent over. Your chest, your beautiful chest, is the first thing Chris lays his eyes on. He nearly chokes on his saliva, and he just can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. “Uh, hi, I need help,” he gruffly says, his voice a bit deeper than usual. He clears his throat with a loud ‘ahem’ and you begin to stand up straight, much to his dismay.

But he doesn’t think the image of your tits nearly falling out of your dress will leave his mind any time soon.

“Of course… Did you enjoy the toast? I can make you some more if you’d like,” you shyly offer him. “It was good, but I’m fine, thanks though. Can you stay here, right at the window, while I go wash my hands? If anything happens, you have to tell me.” Chris doesn’t leave any room for argument, but your curiosity and naivety get the best of you as always.

“What happens if I don’t tell you?” you ask him, walking towards the window. He blocks your path and suddenly personal space is no longer a thing you need. “You don’t want to know what I’m gonna do if you don’t, little girl,” he warns with a hint of lust in his tone. You nod your head and feel tingles bloom just above your core. You’re not sure whether they’re butterflies or those tingles.

Chris walks past you and you quickly rush to the window. You never realized how beautiful this view is until now. The sun is bright, angled in the most perfect manner so that it doesn’t shine directly in your eyes. The sky is so clear, even with the occasional fluffy cloud that always manages to look like some animal. The window blows gently, shaking the sheer curtains that frame you. You sigh and fold your arms, resting them on the windowsill.

You lay your head on your arms and stare out the window with joy filling your heart.

Chris watches you as you look out the window. You’re slightly bent over, once again. Your ass sticks out, and you subconsciously sway your hips side to side, almost purposefully teasing him. Your white dress has a few strings hanging from the hem, but it doesn’t make you look any less gorgeous. He feels like he’s in a dream.

Not only because of the beautiful scenery, and the beautiful woman in front of him but also because he’s trying his hardest to wash his hands quickly, but his movements are so slow. He looks down and rubs his hands together at a furious pace. Chris hears you gasp and he looks up. “Did you see something?” he asks you, turning off the sink.

“Yeah, my neighbour! I haven’t seen him in months, I need to go say hi,” you tell Chris, before rushing out the door. He only then registers your words once you’ve run out of the house and into the unknown. “Fuck- Wait!” he yells after you. He runs behind you and is so grateful when he notices you haven’t gone too far. But you’re still running and Chris’s target is about ten meters away, so he decides to do what he does best.

He decides to save you.

Chris’s feet hit the ground harshly, crushing the flowers beneath him. Running in socks isn’t fun, but at least he has something to protect him. He calls your name and crashes into you with all the force in his body. You both go down and hit the ground from his fierce tackling technique. You go to cry out in pain and lose your mind, but Chris clams his hand over your mouth. “Shh, be quiet. You’re not hurt, okay? I’m sorry I had to do that, but you can’t go running off like that,” he lectures, throwing his right leg over your body. He frames you down, and you don’t have much room to move. You’re frozen in place, chest heaving, and you furrow your eyebrows at his words.

“Listen, I need you to listen. You may not know me and I may not know you, but when I tell you to do something, you’re going to listen. Understood?” he chastised with a harsh tone. You nod meekly, like a little kid who just got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “And just so you know, that sweet neighbour of yours over there is wanted by the Feds.” Chris looks over his shoulder and doesn’t see the man there anymore, so he begrudgingly climbs off of your body.

You gulp thickly, out of fear and nervousness. Chris doesn’t seem to want to add on to this newfound information, so your anxiety makes work of it. For all you know, your neighbour could be a murderer. Chris senses your nervousness and gives you a pat on the head, almost as if you’re his pet.

Unbeknownst to you, the sight of you under him, helpless and with his hand clamped over your mouth is something that gets his blood (and hand) pumping. He helps you up, and you don’t even realize it until he brushes some dandelion seeds out of your hair. “Thank you… and thank you for saving me, I’m sorry I didn’t listen,” you shyly speak to him. He nods and shoves his hands into his pockets, finding an old cigarette from before he quit.

“‘S’alright, I just need a few things from you,” he gruffly reassured. “O- Of course, anything for my guest and for the man who saved my life,” you beam with a small giggle punctuating your words. He basks in it, almost as though it’s sunlight over a beach. “Ah, you flatter me. Just tell me about yourself, I’m going to be staying for a while,” he says as he turns around to walk back inside.

A bottle of gin is in Chris’s hands. The colourless yet pale yellow liquid swishes inside its rightful bottle. It’s half full, only because last night, he downed the rest. He hasn’t drunk in a while. Since he got over being left for dead. And that’s only six months ago.

He’s shirtless. Only left in his grey jeans and jewelry. His rings clink against the glass bottle and his bracelets hang a little past his wrist. The gunshot wound on his left side had a faint scar on it. He hates it. Every single time he stares in the mirror, that fucking scar just stares back at him.

His father told him it makes him seem more ‘manly’, but it just feels like a point of weakness. Maybe if he was a little quicker, he would’ve saved that bank teller. He would’ve gotten Silas behind bars. He would’ve been able to be proud of himself.

Chris groans at the memories and spins the cap off of the bottle. It flies somewhere across the room, probably hitting one of the wood walls. He mumbles a ‘fucking hell’ and brings the bottle to his lips. The last time he drank like this was three months ago, and he ended up fucking the bartender.

She was bent over the counter, her tits spilled out of her bra and his cock pummeled into her sloppily.

She ended up kicking him out after they were done.

Chris groans again and sits down on the bed, kicking his legs up. His pants are stained with the pigment of dandelions and grass. The splotchy stains are juxtaposed to the grey of his old jeans. They have wear and tear all over them, but he doesn’t care.

Every now and then, he sighs — he sighs quite deeply. The puffs of air come from deep inside his chest. He tilts his head back and stares up at the ceiling, thinking back to earlier today. He smiles to himself, recalling the way you looked so innocent beneath him.

He’s only known you for a few days, and he already has lewd thoughts for you. Fuck. He just can’t help himself, though. Especially with your innocent doe eyes and pretty little dresses. He closes his eyes slowly, using that memory to fuel his much-needed mental images.

You’re beneath him once again, but you’re naked. His hand is wrapped around your throat, and he’s naked too. His cock is slowly driving in and out of you. He’s teasing you. Your pulsating, wet walls hug his fat cock, and you’re both moaning softly.

“Daddy…” you whisper to him, clenching around his cock. “What’s wrong, baby?” he softly asks you. “Please fuck me harder, please, Daddy,” you beg to him, before biting down onto your bottom lip. “I don’t think you’ll be able to take my cock like that, baby,” he shakes his head.

“I can take it, Daddy, I’m your good girl.”

Chris opens his eyes and his right hand has found its way down his boxers. His cock is all swollen and hard, hard as a rock. He places the bottle of gin down on the bedside table and gets himself all comfortable. Chris slowly begins to stroke himself gently. He goes from the base all the way to the top, and then back down. His thumb occasionally swipes against his leaking tip and all he can think of is teaching you how to make him — your Daddy — feel good.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans, feeling a vein throat against his hand. He moans your name and speeds up his movements. His fingers are slightly sticky, but it’s the type of sticky he doesn’t mind. He begins to slow his hand down, and he sighs, not wanting to come just yet. He hasn’t been this hard in ages, and touching himself feels so fucking good.

“Did you say my name? Is everything alright?” you ask, barging into his room. He jumps and his hand flies out of his pants. You both stare at each other, not even daring to blink. You eventually break eye contact and notice the bottle of gin sitting on the bedside table. There’s only a sixth of it left, and you frown. You don’t like it when people you care about drink. “Uhm…” he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck and then takes in your form.

You’re in a nightgown, and it’s sheer as fuck. The gin gets to him and his mind has a slight buzz to it. His heart beats rapidly and his cock throbs with want and need. Chris’s eyes rake up and down your body like how they usually do whenever you’re in front of him. His mother would scold him for ogling at you, but he just doesn’t care anymore.

“I- I am so so so sorry, I should’ve knocked. I just thought you needed help with something because I heard you say my name, but sometimes I just tend to hear random things, so sorry,” you apologize in a panicking manner. You slowly walk back to the door, but you don’t turn around. Your bare feet leave a faint imprint on the floor from the cold sweats that have taken over your body.

“Come back here,” he orders, sitting up on the bed. Chris’s unbuckled belt clanks quietly, and he begins to remove it in one quick motion. You gulp thickly and exhale shakily. You slowly walk to where Chris is sitting, and he pats the spot next to him. You’ve never had such an interaction with anyone, ever. You sit down next to him, but you keep your distance.

Alcohol should not be called alcohol in Chris’s utmost humble opinion. No, it should just stick to its nickname ‘liquid courage’ because it’s more accurate than anything else. He may not seem like it, but he’s just a man who doesn’t have the heart to do much. Adrenaline doesn’t exist for him anymore, not since the incident.

Chris turns his head and stares at your pretty face. You look down, unable to make eye contact with such a God-like man. You have to assume that even Apollo is envious of Chris’s beauty. “How’d you hear me? Because I know these walls aren’t thin enough, and I know I wasn’t being loud, so tell me; How’d you hear me?” he interrogates you like one of Silas’s companions, but this time is slightly different.

Lust is what’s pumping through his veins, not rage.

“Uhm, well… My room was right there, and I wasn’t doing anything but thinking, and since your bed is against the wall, I- I heard you say my name,” you explain shyly. He hums, and you’re not sure whether it’s a hum of delight or disbelief. “Thinking of what?” he presses, inching his body closer to yours.

You continue to stare at his hand, even though you can feel his heavy breathing against your face. “I… Well- I was uh,” you stutter embarrassingly, and it makes you burn up with shame. “Spit it out, little girl, and don’t think of lying to me,” he growls, placing his hand on your thigh. Your gaze follows his movements, and you take in the set of rings that adorn his fingers.

They’re all black and of similar styles. One has a skull, one is completely plain, one has a cross on it and the last one has the word ‘Daddy’ engraved on it. His veins are so prominent. They bulge out with intensity, and you’d just love to trail your fingers along each of them. “Am I going to have to force an answer out of you?” he roughly asks. His other hand goes to the back of your head and he brings your gaze to his face.  

You quickly shake your head in objection, and he raises his eyebrows for you to spit your answer out. “I was thinking about you, and the way you tackled me…” you admit to him in a low and soft voice. “You liked the way I was on you, little girl?” he asks, moving his hand to the back of your neck. “Y- Yeah, made me feel all… Tingly…” you whisper to him.

“I want to hear you say it, little girl,” Chris ushers, squeezing the back of your neck slightly. “I liked the way you were on top of me…” you tell him breathlessly. “Good girl,” he praises in a slightly deep voice. He pulls you onto his lap and you gasp. His hard, wanting cock is right under your thighs, and you exhale nervously.

“You feel that, little girl? That’s all because of you, you did this to me. And you’re proud of it, aren’t you? Got me so fucking hard just because of you.” Chris squeezes your waist, and you really can feel it all. He’s not wrong, either. You’re so proud that you’ve made a man like him so desperate for you. “Do you know what I was doing, little girl? I was jerking off to the thought of fucking that cunny of yours until you’re begging me to stop,” he growls in your ear.

You moan softly, and the picture comes to mind, making your pussy gush with want. “Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asks, placing his hand on your inner thigh. You nod, and he raises his eyebrows in warning again. “Yeah, I want that so bad,” you murmur to him. You and your pussy want him so bad. Chris’s hand inches further up your thighs until he’s just an inch away from your bare pussy.

Your thighs are already slightly sticky from your arousal. “Do you know what jerking off is, little girl?” he asks, pulling his hand away from your pussy. You hold back a pathetic, child-like whine, and he begins to lift up your nightgown until he sees your naked body. “Kind of… Isn’t that when a man touches himself? Like how women touch their… down there?” you innocently ask him.

Chris chuckles at how cute you are. So innocent yet oh so slutty. “Have you ever touched yourself, little girl?” he asks, lifting the nightgown over your head. It’s strewn across the floor behind you, and neither of you cares. But you quickly use your hands to cover your most precious, most private parts. “No, no, I don’t want to see any of that. You’re so beautiful, baby, you’re built like an absolute angel,” he husks, and you feel so flustered that you can’t help but giggle.

“T- Thank you… And I’ve done it a few times,” you inform him. Chris nods and smirks, catching the way your nipples have pebbled up. “Have you ever made someone feel good before?” he questions, trailing his broad hands up and down your body. “N- No, it’s pretty lonely up here…” you almost-ashamedly admit. He coos at you. “Do you want me to teach you how to make me feel good, little girl?” he questions, palming your tits.

You moan softly and rub your thighs together as he pinches and pulls at your hard nipples. You’re so small in his large hands, it makes him even harder. You nod your head fervently, wanting to make Chris feel so fucking good. Chris takes his hands away from your body and shifts you in his lap. He reaches down his pants and pulls his cock out of his boxers.

You gasp, having never seen something as big as that. He smirks and uses his right hand to grasp the base of his thick cock. Chris brings your dominant hand down to where his cock is and guides you to wrap your fingers around him. Chris shudders at your soft touch, and he moans softly. “Good girl, yeah,” he praises. “Wrap your hand around me a bit tighter, baby,” he urges, and you do exactly that.

He groans loudly and a small smile stretches across your lips. “N- Now, you’ve got to move your hand up and down. Start off slowly, go all the way to the tip, and then back down,” he instructs, even though he’s helping you out. His hand brings yours all the way to the tip, and then back down; just like he said. His hand leaves yours and goes back to feeling up your pretty body.

“Now do it by yourself, but in a twisting motion, little girl.”

You listen to his words and jerk him off, feeling yourself get wet as his cock twitches in your hand. Your clit throbs and so do the veins on the side of his shaft. Chris curses, and you bite down on your bottom lip. “Good girl, just like that. Fuck, your hand feels so good around me,” he moans, squeezing your waist. You focus on his cock, watching as pre-cum leaks from the tip and down the side of his dick.

It drips onto your slow-moving hand, and you exhale as your movements grow a bit faster. You look at him, watching as his pupils darken with lust. You can tell — it’s written on his face — he wants you to go faster. Your hand speeds up around his cock, making him a moaning mess. “Fuck, you’re such a good fucking girl. You like making me feel good, don’t you? So eager to please like the good little girl you are,” Chris husks.

His praise goes straight to your needy cunt and he knows this because he can just tell. Your thighs rub together, your breath hitches, you let out a giggle and squeeze a little tighter around his cock. Chris’s hand goes up to your head and smashes your lips against his. You both moan into the kiss, and you straddle both his thighs to get more comfortable.

You place your other hand on his cock and mimic your dominant hand’s movements. You try to keep up with the kiss, but you just can’t. Teeth clash and so do tongues as Chris moves his mouth against yours. He pants and his chest heaves as you continue to stroke him. “Go faster, baby,” he urges, and he pulls his mouth away from yours. He can feel you soaking his jeans, your wetness joining the abundant amount of rips and tears in the material.

Your hand moves faster, twisting perfectly and occasionally squeezing his most sensitive spots as well. Chris pushes your hands away abruptly, and you’re confused. Did you do something wrong? Does he not like you anymore? What happened? “Shit, wrap your mouth around the tip, little girl. Trust me, you’re gonna fucking love it,” he says, and you quickly do so.

You’ll do anything to please him. His mushroom tip is leaking and a raging red. It’s the same red as the rest of his cock, and you could swear it’s almost purplish. You can tell he’s aching because you’ve been through a similar thing. You drop down to the floor and kneel in front of Chris. Your lips smooth around the tip of his hard cock, and you can taste him as soon as he hits your tongue.

He tastes of musk and manliness, along with a hint of saltiness, and it’s oh so addicting. You keep the tip of his cock in your mouth like it’s one of your favourite lollipops and smile around him. Chris smiles and wraps his hand around himself. He jerks himself off quickly, desperate to come in your mouth. “Fucking shit– god, you’re such a good fucking girl,” Chris rasps as he reaches his climax.,

His balls tighten up and his blue eyes roll back into his skull. White, hot, thick ropes of cum shoot out of his tip and fill your mouth. You’re not sure why, but a moan escapes past your throat, and it only makes Chris’s high much better. Chris places both hands on the sides of your head and holds you there, gently. You swallow all his cum as it fills your mouth and leaks from the corners of your lips.

Chris so desperately wants to push your head farther down his cock, but he knows he shouldn’t. Plus, there’s always going to be more time for things like that. He pulls your head away from his cock and watches as a string of saliva tries to keep the two of you connected. You gently lick your lips, still savouring his taste and he smiles down at you. You can’t lie — you feel giddy. Giddy in a way in which you crave his praise and approval like no other.

“You’re such a good girl, you know that? Thank you for helping me out… I do suppose I should return the favour, right?” he teasingly says, lifting you up into his lap. You shake your head out of nervousness. “No? … Why not, baby?” Chris asks, and you gulp thickly. “Don’t wanna rush it… I- never mind, you wouldn’t understand,” you look down and fiddle with your fingers.

The grooves of your nails are smoothed over by your pointer finger. Some dips and rises make you cringe, and others satisfy you. He looks down at your hands and notices the skin picked on the sides. He knows how painful those can be, and he doesn’t want you to feel any pain at all. “I’ll try to understand, darling, but if you don’t tell me, then I’ll be completely clueless,” he speaks to you lowly. “I like the way your words make me feel…” you shyly admit to him.

“Aw, how do they make you feel, baby?” Chris presses, grasping your two hands together. “All warm and small… makes me feel like I have it all. Hey, that rhymes!” you exclaim, bubbling in the utmost adorable giggles ever. “You’re a natural poet, darling. But tell me more…” he urges, rubbing his coarse thumbs against your soft skin. “I get butterflies, and I feel all shy and safe. Your words make me so comfortable yet so vulnerable…” you describe to him even though words can’t describe what you feel.

“Is that right, baby? You’re so cute… Do you- Do you get all tingly and babyish when I use my words?” Chris hesitatingly asks. His voice is so gentle and soft, a low whisper that is so soothing to your ears and rough edges. You nod meekly and smile to yourself. Your cheeks may hurt from all the laughter he caused earlier today but that doesn’t refrain you from hiding your smile.

Now, Chris is no doctor. He’s no professional, he’s no master. He’s just a broken man, but he knows exactly what you’re talking about. But he won’t explain what it is, because he needs you to learn on your own. Maybe with some guidance from him, but he won’t trick you into thinking something completely off base.

“Let’s get cleaned up, okay? Then we’ll sleep, you need the rest. We both do.”

He’s got your name on his tattoo, wearing the same damn clothes since three days ago. A bottle of gin in his hand, and you’d say he’s just wandering. But he isn’t. He was never. The stick-and-poke tattoo may seem a bit much, but he doesn’t regret it one bit. Your name is written in your pretty handwriting. The ink is in his skin, and he’s practically marked as yours, now.

The days go by slower, much slower than he’d like them to. But it doesn’t matter now, because his mission is over, and he’ll be leaving soon. But Chris doesn’t want to leave. His wanderlust has found an end as he finally has a place where he’s meant to be. He’s found heaven in the hills, and between your legs.

“D- Daddy…” you whisper under your breath, loud enough for him to hear. Your hands are locked with his, and they rest at your sides. You’re just in a small bralette, and your hard nipples poke through the fabric. Your legs are thrown over his shoulders and your ankles lace together behind his head. Your neck aches from the angle your body is in, but the pleasure blooming from your core is much more powerful.

Chris is between your legs, and he hums against your wet, throbbing pussy. You moan loudly and squeeze your eyes shut from the feeling. He sucks on your clit harshly, and wetness seeps from your hole. “Feels so good… Oh, my…” you pant. Your hips gyrate and you subconsciously grind your wet cunt against Chris’s face. He pulls his face away from your pussy and licks a broad stripe against you.

You moan again and squeeze his hands tighter. His tongue swirls around your swollen and throbbing clit, bringing you closer and closer to your release. Your taste is addictive, and he could stay between your legs for hours on end, if not for eternities. His beautiful, lovely rings dig into the sides of your fingers, but you don’t care. Chris may treat you like a delicate doll, but he should know how much you love it when he’s rough with you.

“I think I’m gonna come, Daddy…” you cry out to him before a strangled moan leaves your mouth. Chris pulls away from your pussy once again, but this time he spits on your lips. His saliva drops down your cunt and mixes with your wetness, and he goes back to devouring you. He eats you out like a starved man, and you’re squealing at the overwhelming pleasure.

If he was on death row, he’d have your sweet pussy as his last meal.

His tongue works over your clit and brings you closer and closer to your release. It’s coming fast. A searing, heated feeling takes over your body and abdomen as your back arches off your couch. Chris is as hard as a rock, staring you directly in the eyes, and he makes you come on his mouth.

“Oh- Daddy!” you cry out loudly, your mouth falling open into a silent, voiceless scream. Your eyes roll back into your skull and in Chris’s past words, you look like a brain-dead slut. Your wetness gushes out of your drooling hole, and he laps it all up with no problem. He drinks up everything you give him, and then some. Your hands are still laced with his and your chest rises and falls at a fast pace.

“Shh… You did amazing, little one. Taste so fucking sweet, just like nectar,” he hums like a hummingbird, before smacking his lips. You slowly come down from your high as he strokes your hands with his thumbs. Your lids are slightly heavy, but you don’t want to get any shut-eye. Time away from Chris is practically a sin in your eyes. “Thank you, Daddy,” you gratefully reply.

“You’re welcome, little one. Got me so hard,” he husks as he moves to get up. He carefully handles your body and pulls out a handkerchief from the pocket of his jeans. They’ve been washed and scrubbed but there are still faint dandelion and pollen stains that he just doesn’t care enough about. Though the adorable face you were making whilst washing them is something that’ll never leave his mind.

Just like the mental image of you coming undone beneath him.

“Can I make you feel good, Daddy? Pretty please?” you ask sweetly and Chris knows he could say yes, but he doesn’t want to. Making you feel good pleases him, but he doesn’t want to sound so poetic so he chuckles. “Soon, little one, I need to clean you up properly,” he tells you and you jut your bottom lip out, pouting. He coos at you and you scrunch your nose up at the attention.

“But I’m all clean, Daddy!” you reason, reaching over to palm his hard cock through his jeans. Chris chokes on his saliva at the feeling of your touch. “In a bit, little one, you need to listen to Daddy. Okay?” he rasps with a warning in his voice. “Okay, Dada…” you trail off with a deep sigh punctuating your sentence. You fiddle with your fingers as Chris carefully cleans up your pussy.

The damp washcloth is gentle against your sensitive skin. Each movement of his is carried by gentleness and love. “I have a question, Daddy,” you hum after a few seconds of silence. “Go ahead, mushy one,” he says with a smile. You giggle at the nickname before calming yourself down. “Were you really wandering?” you bluntly ask him. Chris’s eyes nearly fall out of their sockets, and you gasp.

“What do you mean, little one?” he asks, looking up at you. “Well… You said you were a wanderer! And that’s how you found me! But you don’t seem like a wanderer, you’re too clever to be one,” you explain with a smile on your face. Chris begins to chew on the inside of his cheek, and the skin has already been filled with bite marks and scars. At this point, he should tell you, right? You already know the deepest, most darkest pieces and part of him.

You’ll love him no matter what.

“Well, I wasn’t wandering. You’re so smart, little one. The smartest baby in the world!” he cheers and moves to get up. He sits in the empty spot next to you and lifts you into his lap. You’re still naked and Chris has his shirt off (as usual), so the skin-on-skin contact has you feeling even sleepier. “Sometimes, we lie to protect people. I lied, to protect you, along with many other people. Myself included, of course,” he starts.

“I was sent here with the sole purpose of bringing in your criminal neighbour,” he pauses “and I did.” You nod along with his words, your mind only allowing the most important phrases to sink in. “I arrested him around a month ago, and I was supposed to leave three weeks ago,” he sadly sighs. You look up in a panic, and you’re in shock. “Two weeks ago, I turned in my resignation. I’m not going anywhere,” he quickly adds and your face lights up.

“I’m staying with my best girl, okay?” Chris smiles and leans in to kiss you. You let him do so because God-damn, you’d let him do anything he wants to you. “T- Thank you so much, Daddy!” you squeal and hug him tightly. He laughs in a beautiful cacophony of sounds, and it’s right in your ear.

Chris feels a weight being lifted off his shoulders as you writhe around in his arms. You wiggle around on his hard cock and Chris suppresses a groan. His hands trail from your shoulders to your waist, down to your hips. Goosebumps erupt on your skin and excitement runs in your veins at his touch. Your head rolls back and you exhale shakily. He grips your hips tightly, and you involuntarily buck your hips against his crotch.

Both you and Chris moan before he moves both his hands to your ass. He gropes you roughly, feeling a bit of your wetness on his fingers. “Oh, baby… What’s all that for? Hm? Didn’t Daddy just eat your sweet little pussy out?” he asks in a slightly worried tone. “Y- Yeah… But I can’t help it, Daddy, you always make me so tingly…” you admit to him, shyly.

“Mmm, I like knowing I do this to you. Gets me so fucking hard,” he groans, slapping your ass. You yelp in surprise, but it gets cut off by a whimper. Chris caresses the hit skin and soothes you down from the shock. He smiles at you and then lands another hit. Then another, and then another.

The sting is addictive, just like he is. It leaves you writhing in both pain and pleasure and yet you still want more. “M- more, please,” you quietly beg and Chris coos at you as if you're a pet. And the truth isn’t far off. The coolness of his rings is both brutal and comforting. It soothes you yet acts as if they didn’t just hurt you. “You want more, baby?” he asks in that sweet yet sultry condescending tone of his.

You nod your head and chew on your bottom lip. “‘S too bad you’re gonna have to take what I give you and keep quiet, baby,” he husks, and you whine loudly. Chris flips your bodies around and suddenly you’re on your back, and he’s leaning over you. He locks lips with you and you try your hardest to keep up with the kiss.

His lips move sloppily against yours, but you don’t mind because you’ll take anything he gives you. You moan into true kiss and Chris wedges his knee between your legs. You’d hump him like a bunny because that’s what the demon on your shoulder is telling you to do. But the last time you did something without his permission, you weren’t allowed to make him come for a week.

You just know you’re soaking his jeans but neither of you cares. Chris kisses the corner of your mouth and trails down to your neck, peppering kisses behind as if he’s leaving a trail on your body for when he’s going to explore you later. The stubble on his cheeks and jaw tickles you and Chris falls even more in love with you as your laughter fills the air.

“D- Dada…” you whisper to him as you tilt your head back. His lips land on that sweet spot of yours and your back arches off the couch. Chris smiles against your skin and begins to suck on that sweet spot. Your breath hitches as he bites, licks and sucks on your skin. He marks you up like no other, and you know how much he loves to know that you’re all his.

“Dada… No teasing, please,” you sweetly ask in your soft tone. And how can he turn you down? “In a bit, little girl, be patient for Daddy.” Chris continues to mark you up until he’s satisfied. The feeling of his teeth against your neck and collar bones makes you even wetter than you already are. Possessiveness is carried in his movements, and it only drives you to be needier.

Chris moves further down from your collar bones to the valley of your breasts. Each curve of yours makes him want to sin without any repentance afterwards. He places a kiss there and then looks up at you. “Please, Daddy,” you whisper so quietly it takes him a few seconds to realize what you’ve said. Chris’s hand wraps around your body to your back.

He slowly unclasps your bralette and drags it away from your body at the same pace. You both maintain eye contact all whilst he undresses you to your vulnerability. Chris throws your bra somewhere behind him and places his hands on your body. “Aw, baby… You’re so cute and small,” he sweetly says in an almost shocking manner. Almost as if he doesn't use the size difference as a weapon to make you all soft and mushy.

“Hm, thank you, Daddy,” you tell him because good girls always have manners. “So good, using your manners for Daddy,” he praises, and you wonder if he can read your mind. Your Daddy can do anything, so it would be no surprise if he can. Chris sits upon his knees, but he remains in his towering position. Gently, and with care, he spreads your legs open until he’s satisfied.

He watches as you clench your needy pussy. He just knows your clit is throbbing, and you’re tingly because he just has that effect on you. “Poor baby… Is this all for Daddy?” he asks, and you quickly nod. “Say it, tell me it’s all because of me,” he growls placing his hands on your thighs. Chris slowly moves his hands further down your thighs. His touch is gentle, and he can feel the goosebumps on your thighs beginning to raise.

“‘S all yours, daddy. It’s all because of you,” you tell him breathlessly. “And this pussy is all mine, isn’t it, little girl?” he asks, inching closer to your wet pussy. “Mhm, only yours, Daddy!” you happily assure him, and he smirks at you. “That’s right, little girl. And since it’s all mine, doesn’t that mean I can do whatever I want with it?” he questions, and you nod with no hesitance at all.

Chris traces your wet pussy with his ring-donned pointer finger. “Oh my…” you gasp at the feeling. It may not be much, but your sensitive little pussy struggles to handle it. You clench around nothing again, and he watches, before chuckling at you. “Such a pretty pussy you have, baby, I can’t fucking wait to ruin it,” Chris growls, and you whimper. “Gonna fill you up with my cum after I fuck you, little girl,” he promises, and you never wanted to be fucked so badly until now.

He wonders if his cock could even fit inside you. Usually, he’d want to eat you out and finger you to prepare you. But he’s now thinking with what’s between his legs, and not what’s between his ears. He trails that same pointer finger on your pussy, and becomes mesmerized with the sight. Chris watches as your hole drools with want and need, whilst you watch him.

His already dark eyes are blown out with lust, and it only turns you on even more. Chris knows you’re watching him. He’s not one of the best agents in the FBI for no reason. He looks up at you, and you lock eyes with each other. He smirks and pulls his hand away from your pussy. You hold back a whine, but you still pout in disappointment. Chris begins to unbuckle his pants, and you’re filled with eagerness.

You smile widely, and he coos. “Aw, you’re such a desperate little slut, it’s adorable,” he chuckles, and you shy away. He pulls down his jeans along with his boxers slowly. Chris takes off his jeans and boxers completely, and throws them somewhere around the house. You watch as his cock bounces up and leaks with pre-cum. You just know he’s aching because of how red his cock is.

He’s big, and you already know that. But seeing him in all his naked glory is just something else. The simple yet not so simple idea of Chris’s cock being inside of you is electrifying. It’s both terrifying and exciting. He grabs the base of his cock and the prickly hair pokes the soft skin of his hands, but he doesn’t care. His left hand goes back to your pussy, and begins to rub circles on your clit.

“Oh… Daddy,” you moan quietly. The pleasure is almost overwhelming, so you involuntarily try to shut your legs and keep Chris out. Your knees touch for a brief moment, and he’s having none of that. He separates your legs and climbs on top of you, all while staring you directly in the eyes. His cock drags against your inner thigh. “Oh, is it too much for you, little one?” he asks with faux pity in his tone. You nod and clench your fists to control yourself.

“Too fucking bad, you’re gonna take whatever I give you, and you’re not gonna complain. Isn’t that right, little girl?” he sneers, and you gasp. Usually, you can’t handle someone who raises their voice in the slightest. But hearing Chris do it makes the butterflies in your stomach fly. “Yes, Daddy,” you hum delightfully, and he smiles. “Good girl,” he praises. Chris presses harder on your sensitive pearl of nerves and rubs you in faster circles.

“Daddy…” You moan and it goes straight to his cock. He looks up at you and just knows you’re beginning to drive up that cliff. He slows down his ministrations on your nub, and you bite back a loud whine. “You’re so needy, baby… Already so close to coming, it’s kind of pathetic…” he trails off and more wetness leaks out of you. You’re absolutely soaked and are a little bit ashamed of it.

“Please, Daddy! I’m so close, I’ll do anything,” you beg, but he just doesn’t buy it. “You’ll already do anything I tell you, baby, begging is so useless,” Chris chortles. You let out a small huff and move your hips in a circle, grinding against his thumb. In a flash of blurry moments, Chris pulls his hand away from your pussy and wraps around your neck. He squeezes the sides of your throat, and you gasp quite loudly.

He raises his eyebrow in warning, and you nod in understanding. “Good girl, I don’t want to put you over my knee when I’m feeling so gracious,” he assures, and you smile. Chris brings the tip of his cock to your swollen, needy clit and his pre-cum begins to mix with your wetness. You both moan softly as he rubs his tip on your clit. Your bottom lip finds a home between your teeth and Chris’s tongue swipes over his.

The sight and feeling of his cock on your silky pussy make him so weak in the knees. “Fuck, baby, do you like that? You like it when Daddy makes you feel good with his cock?” Chris asks in a deep, gravelly voice. “Yeah, Daddy… love it so much…” you tell him through a mushy haze of pleasure.

“You’re getting all dumb and stupid already? You’re so cute, little one,” he purrs, and you giggle at his words even though there’s nothing funny about them. “Do you want my cock, little baby? Say it, tell Daddy you want his cock,” he urges, and you look down to where you’re both nearly connected.

“I wan’ your cock, Daddy. Want it so bad, I need it, Daddy,” you beg, and Chris hums. “Just a little more, little girl, it’s like music to my ears,” he smirks, and you bite your bottom lip. “Sing for me, hummingbird,” he pushes, and you just go with whatever your neediness tells you to do.

“I wanna feel your cock deep inside me, Daddy. I want your cum to fill me up until I’m leaking and all stupid. Please, Daddy, please fuck me. I really want your cock, I need it,” you beg and blood rushes to his face and cock. “Fuck, yeah, I’ll give you my fucking cock, and you better take it like the good girl you are,” he growls, and you whimper. Chris slowly drags the fat tip of his shaft down to your drooling, slutty hole.

You whimper loudly, and he looks back at you. Fear is written all over that pretty face of yours, and Chris knows the exact reason why. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll be gentle, okay? If you want to stop just say so, and I’ll listen. I won’t hurt you, darling. I promise,” he gently reassures you. You sigh with an almost heavy yet full heart.

You then nod and Chris thanks you for allowing him to fully make you his. “Wanna hold your hand, Dada… Please,” you ask pleasantly, and he nods. “In a bit, little girl, I just need to be careful,” he whispers. Chris slowly begins to push into your wet, tight cunt. You swallow him slowly, and the sight is mesmerizing.

The tightness of your cunt squeezes him in a strong hug, and he wishes he could be buried deep inside you for the rest of his life. “Fuck- Baby, you feeling so fucking good,” he moans while trying to compose himself. You’re still whimpering from the pain, and your chest is rising and falling at a fast pace.

“C- Can I push all the way in, little one? It’ll only hurt for a bit,” he asks, and he looks deep into your eyes. “Mhm… Wanna feel your cock deep inside me, Daddy, please,” you beg, and Chris tries his hardest not to come right here, right now. He thrusts his hips forward, and bottoms out inside you completely.

Your mouth falls open, and you’re silently screaming. The pain isn’t too much, but you feel as though the wind is being knocked out of you. Chris shifts a bit, and that’s when you start to feel it more. He’s so deep inside you, and he’s splitting you in two. “Breathe, baby, breathe,” he says.

You realize you’re holding your breath and it’s no wonder why your heart was beating out of your chest. “You’re doing so- so well, darling. Your little cunny looks so nice when it’s stuffed full with my cock,” he groans, and you whimper. “Dada, is hurtin’...” you whisper, and Chris wants to pull out because he can’t stand the thought of his little girl being hurt.

“Do you want me to stop, little one?” he asks, but you quickly shake your head in objection. Even though the pressure in your core is dwindling, and even though you feel a little too full, you don’t want him to stop. “No stopping, Daddy, please,” you whine and flail your arms towards him. He shushes you soothingly, and you calm down as soon as he flashes a stern look.

The pain soon burns away into nothing but dust and ash, and you finally see why he was so desperate to shove his cock inside of your cunt. It turns into pleasure and your pussy leaks around him. You’re soaking Chris’s cock with no shame at all. “Oh, fuck, baby… You feel so fucking good,” he moans, and you follow with a gasp. “I like the way y- you feel inside me, Daddy, makes me all tingly…” you admit shyly, and Chris chuckles.

“Yeah? Bet it makes you want to be fucked stupid, right, baby?” he questions with a playful smirk on his face. “Yes, Daddy,” you moan. You’re never aware of your surroundings because you’re too caught up in the moments. It’s something Chris scolds you for, but you never learn. But in this moment, you can feel everything. The veins on his cock throb against your silky walls, and you can feel his balls against your ass. His hot breath fans over you as Chris struggles to compose himself.

He slowly drags his hips backwards, pulling out of your pussy until his tip is the only thing in your cunt. The sudden almost-emptiness is surprising, but you quickly get used to it. Chris then pushes back into your pussy, and you moan loudly. “Fucking hell, little one,” he curses under his breath as he bottoms out again. He begins to fuck into you slowly and gently, careful to not hurt you. Even if he wants to fuck you until you’re crying.

The sound of skin on skin is quiet and almost unintelligible. The squelching sounds from your wet pussy and moans fill the room. Chris gently grips your hips and watches as your face contorts into a frown of pleasure and not pain. “Daddy…” you pant softly as you look up at Chris. “Yeah, baby? Am I hurting you?” he asks out of worry. “N-No, it feels so good…” you trail off as one particular thrust lands near your g-spot. And he knows that.

“Wan’ you to fuck me hard, wan’ you to destroy me, Daddy. Please fuck me like the slut I am…” you gently beg and Chris halts his thrusts. His cock twitches inside of you because of your words. Only he can corrupt an innocent angel such as yourself. “Shit- Little one, I don’t want to hurt you, that’s why I’m being so gentle,” Chris explains, but you shake your head. “You could never hurt me, Daddy. Please, I need you,” you beg for one last time, unaware of what you’ve done to him.

Chris roughly pushes his cock back into your cunt without warning. “Awe, I see. My little princess wants to be fucked like the whore she is, hm? Well, whatever princess wants, she gets,” he growls because beginning to fuck you roughly. You moan loudly at the feeling as with each thrust, his cock pummels against your sweet spot roughly. His pelvic bone rubs against your swollen clit and his grip on your hips tightens.

“Daddy!” you cry out as Chris pounds into your poor pussy. The room fills with moans, groans, curse words and wet sounds that all come from the art you two are making. “Aw, what’s wrong, little girl? Can’t take daddy’s cock anymore? Hm? Well, I don’t really give a fuck, you’re just gonna lie there, and take what I give you like a good fucking girl,” he sneers, and you push at his chest.

“It’s so sensitive!” you wail like a little bitch in heat. “But I bet you don’t want me to stop, do you?” Chris asks as a moan bleeds past his plump lips. “Uh-uh, please don’t stop, Daddy!” you squeal after a harsh thrust. The stretch of Chris’s cock is amazing, and you never want the feeling to stop. Chris’s hand leaves your hip and crawls all the way up to your neck. He wraps his fingers around your throat, and squeezes the sides, making you clench tightly around his big, thick cock.

He lowers his face to yours and watches as you react to the way he’s being rough with you. “Oh, God!” you cry out as he makes his thrusts more powerful. “Actually, it’s just ‘Daddy’, but I’m fine with that too,” he slyly smirks. You’re too fucked out to even laugh at his joke. Your eyes roll back into your skull and your back begins to arch off of the couch.  “Awe, are you gonna come around my big fat cock already, slut? How cute,” Chris mocks.

You nod your head and begin babbling like a baby. “But remember, little girl, I have to give you permission to come, okay?” he reminds you, and you whine. Chris’s hand around your throat moves up to grab your jaw, and he stops thrusting into you. “None of that is allowed. Don’t forget your place, little girl,” Chris warns with fury seething through his words. You mumble an apology, trying to formulate the proper words to speak.

“Seems like I really did fuck you stupid,” he chuckles, and you moan at his words. You clamp down on his cock, tempting him to do what you want, like a siren using her voice to lure men into the sea. “Open your mouth up first, little girl,” he orders, and you obediently listen. The searing arousal in your core begins to fade away, and you feel a panic beginning to rise inside you.

Chris drags his hand back down to your throat and rests it there. You watch as he puckers his lips up, and suddenly, he spits into your mouth. You open your mouth even wider and stretch your tongue out. His saliva lands directly on your tongue, and you wait for further instructions before you give in to your desires.

“Swallow it, little girl,” he instructs, and you do exactly so. You open your mouth back up just to earn some praise. “Good fucking girl. The best baby ever,” he smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you, Daddy! … Can I have cummies now?” you lovingly ask your Daddy.

“Of course, little one,” he says as he smiles down at you. Chris begins to fuck into you again, deep and hard. With each thrust, he pounds your g-spot and his balls slap against your ass. His remaining hand on your hip moves down to your clit, rubbing your little button with rough circles.

“Daddy… ‘m gonna come!” you moan loudly and Chris fucks you harder. “Come one, baby, come all over my big cock like the good girl you are,” he urges. The building feeling inside you increases, and you feel yourself getting closer to your release. “Fucking come, little girl, wanna hear you sing for me,” he growls. And with one specific thrust, you find yourself coming undone beneath him.

The sight is so fucking beautiful. Watching you as your eyes turn up, your mouth falls open and your cunt hugging his cock just gets him going, and he wishes he could take a picture of you right now. “D- Daddy! Oh, my-” You cut yourself off with a loud moan and Chris keeps on rubbing your clit and fucking you through your orgasm.

You soak his cock until it’s dripping and even then you’re still coming. You moan loudly and Chris can feel himself getting closer to his orgasm. His balls begin to tighten up and a droplet of sweat drips from his neck down to his chest. “Daddy, are you gonna come?” you sweetly ask as he fucks you through your orgasm whilst chasing his own.

“Yeah, baby, Daddy’s gonna fill you up with his cum. I’m gonna leave you leaking with my seed,” Chris growls as he fucks you faster. “Please, Daddy… Please, I want your cum so badly! Please fill me up with your cum, Daddy,” you beg and Chris tosses his head back.

“Fuck, yes, yes yes,” he shouts as his balls tighten up again. He quickens his pace until white, hot, thick ropes of cum spurts out from his aching tip. He fulfills his promise and your wish, filling you up with his cum until there’s nothing left. His cum mixes with your juices as he paints your walls with no expertise whatsoever. Chris slumps on top of your body, engulfing you in a bear hug as his cock remains buried inside of you.

You’re both panting and struggling to come down from the euphoric feelings. You look up at Chris make lock eyes with him for the nth time. There’ll never be a day where you don’t get lost in his eyes. They’re beautiful, absolutely beautiful. “You did so fucking good, little one,” he praises, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“Thank you very, very much, Daddy,” you slur, feeling yourself beginning to sleep into little space. “Daddy?” you call out, tapping his bicep after a few seconds. “Yeah, baby?” he asks, lifting himself up to get a better view of your face. “Will you really stay?” you ask with a bit of worry in your voice. He sighs with a full heart.

“Always.”

[kingsuckjin]

Company Policy -JJK

- Pairing: coworker Jungkook x reader

- Genre: established relationship? Sort of

- Rating:18+

- Words: 5k

- Summary: Eight months. Eight months you have regretted breaking off being fuck buddies with your hot coworker. You were so afraid of being caught with him but now that you’ve had time to think, would it really be so bad as long as you could have him all to yourself again? Does he even like you anymore? Has he moved on? All you know is it’s been eight months since you’ve had sex, he’s been all you could think about. Now he’s looking pretty hot at this office party.

- Warnings: pining, explicit content, public sex, they fuck on a coworker’s desk, public sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, heavy dirty talk, brief mention of oral sex and a ton of other past sexual acts like thigh riding and hair pulling, kind of jealous tattooed kook, not voyurism but someone else is there at some point, and finally a dash of fluff.

- A/n: This post is a commission for the ARMY for AAPI Justice and Advocacy Event. Please click >here< to find more resources and consider donating to the cause! Thank you so incredibly much to the donor @lcksndkys​ for donating and commissioning this, you are an absolute angel, I hope you know that. I might’ve gotten a bit carried away and wrote a few thousand more words than planned, but you deserve it. 

“Morning,” 

“Morning.” Was the greeting between you and Jungkook every morning when you stepped into the elevator, coffee in hand.

That was it, that was all you ever said to each other anymore. His smell always floated around the confined space making your mind flashback to what once was before you quickly pushed it away from your brain.

Neither of you ever said anything about it, it was like it had never even happened and sometimes you wonder if it even had or if your brain had made up everything that had happened eight months ago from your frequent dirty thoughts of your coworker. It felt like a lifetime ago. The familiarity of him, his smell, his smile, his voice along with the cold distance, avoidance to even look at you, and the constant wonder of him having someone else made you a little sick at your stomach.

You had decided to break things off… as if either of you were any more than fuck buddies. You knew that if anyone at work had ever found out about the two of you, you’d most likely both be fired. No banging other employees was a pretty strict policy there and you remembered the two nice ladies that were fired last year for it, you remembered it because your boss had made such an example of it.

You had been more than paranoid when you and Jungkook were boning for a whole month, you both had been so secretive even going as far as to have each other park down the street from your houses when the other came over. It didn’t help that you lived with your sister and didn’t want her to know you were sneaking someone in the house and screwing them. It also didn’t help that his roommate worked there too and didn’t get along at times. It didn’t seem like all the effort to sneak around was worth it at the time, but now you felt like you had a mistake.

As you took your seat behind the reception desk and began to put away your things for the morning, you just kept stealing glimpses of him doing the same at his cubicle. Every morning he would put his black messenger bag under his desk, turn on his computer, and roll the sleeves of his white button-up shirt up to reveal one very tattooed arm. His wavy hair was usually put back into a half ponytail for professionalism and probably so he could see, but there were always strands that managed to escape his hair elastic throughout the day. It was painful mentally at times having a view of him but trying not to look, it was painful knowing he wouldn’t look back at you anymore. You could still feel what it was like when he had glanced at you and smiled at you, your heart sped up at just the thought. 

“Ugh why are you always here so early, you leave before I even wake up.” his roommate,Jimin, had walked in, looking great as usual but a bit tired in the face. He was lingering around Jungkook’s desk with his things still in hand.

“I like to be prepared, unlike you.” Jungkook joked back with a smile but you knew it was just more than a joke, Jungkook really didn't care for Jimin, he was a bit too spiteful towards him sometimes.

He had always come in early, you both were typically the first ones here besides the janitor. You had to be, your boss liked you here nice and early to greet everyone as they walked in.

“You coming to the thing tonight? The boss is letting us have booze.” Jimin asked him.

You felt like you really shouldn’t be paying attention to the conversation so you went back to sipping your coffee and getting ready to start the day.

“Hey.”

It nearly scared you to death as you rummaged through your bag under the desk for your chapstick. Your body jolted up to see Jimin leaning one arm on the reception counter.

“What?” you asked in confusion, wondering what he was now doing hanging around you with such a sly smirk.

“Well good morning to you too. Are you going to the party tonight? Boss is having a thing to celebrate meeting our yearly product sales goal.”

“I… haven’t thought about it, why?” you were honest, it didn’t mean anything to you.

“I know we have this policy, but you should think about going with me.” he gave you a wink that made you raise your eyebrows in surprise. “We could come here and have a few drinks and a good time, then we could go back to my place and-”

“How about we don’t? We could just not do that.” you gave him a very fake smile.

Sudden loud coughing erupted through the room making you both look over at the source.

Jungkook was doubled over with his coffee still in his hand.

“You good?” Jimin asked him casually and Jungkook gave a thumbs up to show he was fine, even though his big eyes were slightly teary before holding up his coffee cup to signify he had strangled on his coffee.

“Anyway, if you’re worried about someone saying something about us, you could just come separately and we could just see what happens…”

“I’m not worried because there is no us, Jimin. I’ll come, but let’s not see what happens, and let’s not even speak.” 

“Your loss. At least I’ll have Jungkook there with me.” Jimin responded along with a shrug to your savage words before walking away.

You looked over to Jungkook to make sure he hadn’t died because he was no longer choking, you just wanted to make sure he was still breathing but your eyes were met with his. He was giving you this gaze before he raised his eyebrows at you with a slight momentary smirk, it all only lasted less than a split second before he adjusted his black tie and turned back around to face his desk. 

How could he be so casual with a look like that at you? How could he be so casual with everything that had happened between you? You had no idea what that look was about but it had your brain so frazzled. It could’ve been nothing, but it was the most interaction you’ve had with him in so long, all it had done was remind you how starved for him you were.

You looked down at your desk feeling your face get a little warm.

Images of that very shirt he was wearing right now, being unbuttoned rapidly with those tattooed fingers in some dark, sketchy hotel room ran through your mind. 

“I wish you knew how much I’d go through to be this close to you, to be inside of you.” The memory of his words and hushed voice into your skin gave you goosebumps.

The same man who had said that now sat right over there, not even having tried to flirt with you in the past eight months as you sat here and wondered why you do this to yourself. 

Did he still feel that way or had he just meant it at the moment? There were plenty at the moment things that he had said that would flood into your mind just to hurt you when you saw him.

You glanced at him throughout the day as you often did.

You avoided each other on your lunch break, stepping around each other to get to the vending machines in the break room.

You ate at your desk alone while he ate with Jimin in the break room.

Things were the same as they had been, the look he had given you earlier meant nothing, maybe nothing that had happened in the past meant nothing to him too.

Maybe it was all just fun like you both had planned for it to be, if so, why were you still so stuck on it? Why were you stuck on him? You told yourself it was just because he was attractive, the most gorgeous man in the office, but there were just these little things about him you couldn’t get over. The way he stretched and grunted in the morning, you knew the way he liked his coffee, you knew his parents’ names. You had both shared so much of your lives for an entire month almost constantly until you ripped it away from yourself so stupidly. You had both agreed to delete each other’s numbers, but the truth was, you still kept his name in your phone with little hearts by his name. You needed this to end, you needed to stop being so hung up on him because he wasn’t with you. You decided to go to this thing tonight and at least hope for some answers, if you failed to get any you would do your best to stop thinking about him.

------------------ 

You had talked yourself out of this more than five times already, but you had gotten dressed and ready and made the drive over.

You now sat in the office parking lot just picking lint off of your black dress, not looking forward to how awkward this might be. In your years of working there, you had mostly just kept to yourself… until the thing with Jungkook happened.

“Are you nervous? You look nervous” he gave you a little smile from across the table from the coffee shop. He had asked you to get coffee after work and he could see right through you

“A little.” You had admitted.

“Don’t be shy, it’s just me. It’s just Jungkook, we work together every day.”

“Don’t be nervous.” You found yourself saying out loud to yourself as you gazed out your windshield at the building. “I shouldn’t be. I work with him every day and nothings going to happen anyway.” You hurt yourself a little with the last part. You put a lot more care into how you looked tonight than you wanted to admit.

“It’s just a stupid office party,” you grumbled to yourself before unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out of the car, if it was horrible or boring then you could just go home.

-----

You didn’t know what you had expected, but it wasn’t this. You had followed the signs to the floor that had held a large meeting room, but it didn’t look like a meeting room now.

It was just a room full of people with a snack table and alcohol. The room was dimmed but there were some cheap party effects lighting things happening. People were laughing and talking over some pop music that wasn’t eardrum-bustlingly loud but you still had to strain to hear over. You spotted a lot of coworkers you saw every day, more that you didn’t know from different departments though. You kind of just went and stood by a wall with your eyes searching faces, not stopping too long on any just in case they might think you were staring at them. Before you had left you wondered if you had been too dressed up, but now you were glad for your little black dress as you saw what the others were wearing. Everyone looked so nice and not at all what you were used to them wearing. 

While your eyes were going over who was talking to who, you found him.

In the corner of the room on the opposite end, talking to some girl you had only seen a handful of times. She was touching her hair and smiling at him. He looked so dressed down in his ripped black jeans and a black t-shirt. His tattoos were freed as you had always liked seeing and his hair wasn’t being held back. You had seen him like this multiple times, but had anyone else? He had always looked so good like this, so himself. 

Just seeing his hair down reminded you of all the times you had grabbed at it while moaning his name. Seeing him in those black ripped jeans reminded you of all the times he has made you ride his chiseled, hard thighs until you came multiple times. 

You felt like you had been kicked in the heart as your brain went back to the present moment and saw her placing a hand on his shoulder.

He laughed at something she had said but took a step back out of her grasp smoothly before giving her a small wave. A few more words were exchanged before she apprehensively walked away from him, heaving him alone to stand at the wall on the other side of the room.

Your eyes darted away from him and over to the snack and drink table, you weren’t planning on getting any, but you wanted to make it look that way.

You felt nervous, he looked good and at least one other person had noticed. You told yourself that the lady who had just spoken to him didn’t know him as you did, she probably just saw a hot guy dressed in black with tattoos… just like you had when you both had started whatever happened. He was more than all of that, to you especially now after you had a lot of time to think about it all.

Although you didn’t want your eyes to, they had darted to him for a split second to see he had his phone out… until he looked up from it at you.

He had seen you, he had seen you looking at him from across the room, but he didn’t react. Instead, his eyes went back down to his phone, and yours went back to the table.

Your phone buzzed in your bag and you decided to fish it out thinking it could help you look busy.

“Hey, it’s Jungkook. I see you :)”

Your heart nearly jumped out of your mouth as you read the text. 

He hadn’t deleted your number just like you hadn’t his.

You felt his eyes watching you but you didn’t look up. He was waiting for your reply, but you just stood there dumbfounded that he had just sent you a text from across the room.

“I know.” you had nervously typed different versions of this reply over and over only to erase each time before settling on the most simple reply.

“You look good.” it had taken him no time to reply in comparison to you. You stood there in shock and lost as to what to say to him. You were taking too long because he sent a second text.

“I know that dress. I remember it.”

You had been hoping he would. You had worn this dress on the first night you both had ever done anything. You made out in his car after your coffee date. He had just kept telling you how pretty you looked even with his hand in your underwear. It was hard to resist him from even the first date, you had no idea how you had made it eight months now.

“You look nice too, you always have.” You typed and sent it quickly before you could change your mind.

You watched him run his inked fingers through his hair as he read the text. You could swear you saw a flash of a smile on his face before his thumbs went to work on his phone.

“I miss you.” Popped up on your screen.

Part of you felt like crying a little. You felt his eyes on you once again and you looked up away from your phone to see that your feeling had been correct. You were sure your mouth was open as you locked eyes from across the room. Your phone vibrated again in your hand.

“We should talk.”

“Hey, gorgeous!” Jimin stepped in front of you making you lock your phone. “I know you said let’s not talk but-“

“Then why are you talking to me?”

“How could I not? You’re the prettiest one here.” He smirked but you could smell the alcohol on his breath. You couldn’t help the roll of your eyes.

“Oh hey! I’ve been looking for you!” Jungkook now walked up with a smile at you. “You found her for me and didn’t even know I was looking, thanks, man.” Jungkook seemed to be thanking an equally confused as you Jimin.

“Sorry to bother you about work stuff at a party, but I forgot to earlier. I need the contact info to a client I’ve been working on to sell more products to. It’s wild, it’s like I went to the bathroom one day and the info to this big buyer just kinda… disappeared I guess. So weird, almost like someone has it out for me.” Jungkook gave the fakest joking laugh you had ever seen and Jimin looked a bit wide-eyed. “Anyway, You’re the receptionist so I know you have the contact info for everyone anyway so I was wondering if you could maybe help me out and get it for me? It’s kind of really important and I need it ASAP. Already asked the boss and he said it was cool.” 

Jimin had just kind of slinked off silently, but you knew what Jungkook was doing.

“Yeah, Uh of course.” You nodded.

He tilted his head in the direction of the door before you followed him out.

He led you towards the elevator in absolute silence and even as he pushed the button for the floor you both worked on he said nothing.

You were beginning to think he was wanting your help. And then you thought about it more in the silent ride and you felt so stupid. Of course he was wanting your help, he had never said he actually didn’t, not even when Jimin had walked away.

“I can’t believe that asshole sabotaged me like that. My roommate sabotaged my sale.” He mumbled before scoffing as the elevator door opened.

“I-I’ll help.” You said but he passed right by your desk.

“I’m glad you said that.” He replied as he walked over to Jimin’s cubicle.

“What are we doing?” You finally asked.

“Depends…” he raised an eyebrow as he looked back at you. “What do you want me to do?” 

You swallowed the lump of nervousness in your throat to speak as you looked into his mischievous-looking dark eyes.

“Whatever you want I guess.”

He lifted you in almost an instant and sat you on Jimin’s desk.

“You know he’s always liked you, right? He would tell on us if he ever found out. You were willing to risk it, right here right now?” He dared.

Instead of speaking you grabbed a fist full of his t-shirt and tugged him down until his lips met yours.

God did you want it. You have wanted for eight long months. You were willing to risk everything after so long without his lips on yours.

You were still nervous but his kiss brought it all back for you and how natural it felt.

“Fuck me.” You pleaded against his lips.

“You need it? Tell me you need it.” His lips moved to your neck as he ran a hand through the back of your hair.

“Ah, fuck I need it. I haven’t fucked anyone since you.” It slipped out of your mouth and got a second your body went rigid.

“Me neither.” He nipped at your neck.

The second thing he had done tonight that had stunned you.

“Wait.” You stopped him and he backed up to look at you.

“I missed you too. Not just… not just this, I missed you. I don’t know if you feel the same but-“

“What did you think I meant by I missed you? I didn’t just mean the sex or your body. I meant you as a person.” 

“I-why didn’t you just say?” You wondered out loud. 

He dropped to the floor on his knees between your legs.

“Cause you dumped me.” He let out a snort “you told me to delete your number, which surprise, I didn’t. You wouldn’t look at me. Plus this went two ways you know. You didn’t contact me either.” He stated as he looked up at you while ghosting his fingers over the skin of your thighs as he spoke.

“I dumped you?” You were surprised by this news. You know neither of you had had the relationship talk before.

“I mean, I like to think we were together.”

“Then we should be again,” you decided. You were tired of wanting him and not having him and something told you that he felt the same.

“I think so too,” he whispered, inching his lips closer and closer to yours before smashing into them.

His hands squeezed at the meat of your thighs before trailing them up the sides, up under your skirt, and hooking them in your panties. Your tongues whipped together in each other’s mouths. You managed to move so that he could get your panties down, but he only pulled them to your knees. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the table, so close you thought you might fall off if he wasn’t right there between your legs. 

His fingers now slowly ran from your inner thighs to your folds. As soon as he touched you, you unlocked your lips from his and let out a shaky breathed whine.

“I can tell you missed me. You're so wet for me,” he whispered so quietly just for you to hear even though no one else was in the room.

You did your best to stay quiet as his fingers teasingly and slowly ran over your clit and back down to your cunt.

He lifted his slick fingers to his mouth and you watched with a slightly open mouth as he let them slide past his lips and then out of his mouth altogether, coming out more glossy from his spit.

“I missed the way you taste”

His even more wet fingers that now teased at your pussy were making you want to grab his hand and force it to do something more. You were practically shaking under even the slightest of his touches. You were nervous for someone to walk in at any given moment and all he was doing was drawing things out and letting his fingers kill precious time playing in your folds.

“I'd love to make you cum right now with my mouth” he pressed a kiss onto your neck where his face had been camping out while his fingers tortured you. “But I know how that makes you scream and we have to be very…” another kiss to your neck “very” his fingers finally slowly slipped into your cunt “very quiet.” his whispers tapered off to quieter and quieter, so much so that your shaking breaths felt loud between the both of you.

You were doing your best not to break out into full-blown moans so that maybe if someone walked in you could play it off as just talking or something else, as long as no one heard your moans on the way up the both of you could have time to look normal. 

His fingers curled inside of you with his palm grinding down onto your clit slowly.

“Oh God.” you breathed not knowing how you were supposed to survive this. He was all you wanted for months upon months and now that you had him here, tattooed hand knuckle deep in your pussy, his lips on your skin saying nothing but filth, you felt like you couldn't even let go as much as you wanted to, but you were trying.

His hand sped up its movements as you could feel how hard he was now in his jeans against the inside of your thigh.

Your lips squeezed together but it couldn’t stop the small whimpers he forced out of you. You could hear him breathing in your ear along with the wet sounds of your pussy. You were close but so scared. Doing this out in the open was such a thrill but it also made you paranoid. 

“Cum for me. I hear the way you’re whining, you’re so close I know it. Just cum for me. Cum around my fingers, no one will know.” 

You couldn’t stop it now.

You grabbed a hold of his shirt and forced his chest harder against yours, you wanted him closer, impossibly close as you came undone, clenching around his fingers rhythmically as each wave of pleasure pulsed through your body. 

He let out a little moan at the sound and feel of you coming. 

“I missed that too.” He whispered to himself before pulling his fingers out of you slowly.

He reached between you and you felt him quickly yet nervously fiddling with his button and zipper with his hand that wasn’t soaked in your wetness.

He made a show about taking his thick, veiny cock out of his pants and rubbing your juices from his hand over it. 

In seconds he was back in your ear.

“Can I fuck your brains out?” The whisper was soft, his voice was sweet but the words themselves were as hard as his dick he still stroked in his hand.

“You're always allowed brains out.” You whispered back “just do it.” 

You felt his head run over your folds teasingly as he continued to play with you and himself.

“Do you still think about me fucking your brains out?” He asked. You could hear how much wetness had spread from you to his cock with each pump of his hand.

“Every time I need to get off.” You admitted. “So give it to me so I don’t have to keep wishing anymore.” 

He pushed into you slowly, letting out a deep sigh and throwing his head back for a moment so you could see his perfectly sculpted throat.

You missed how full he made you feel while he was inside of you. 

He pulled out almost entirely, the head of his cock was the only thing left inside of you, pushing on your g-spot before the thrust back in hard. This was the way he fucked, pulling out almost entirely so his head hit where you needed it. You had experienced guys that just flopped around, but he knew you, he knew your body, he paid attention, he had a very special handcrafted way to get you off over and over until you were shaking.

One of his hands grabbed your hip while the other went to your clit to play with using his thumb.

“You miss this, baby?” You miss my dick between your legs?” His lips brushed with your parted and panting ones as he spoke.

You let out a whimper as you focused on your second orgasm, his hips were not letting up and neither was his lips that whispered pure filth.

“Want me to cum inside of you, make you not want to forget me and who you belong to? Right here on Jimin's desk.” 

Your eyes squeezed shut and you clutched at the fabric of his shirt as you were once again thrown into pure pleasure.

You couldn’t help it this time. The way he touched you, the way he felt inside of you, his grunts and words were all too much.

“Please, fucking cum inside of me, I want it all fuck you feel so good.” You cried out way too loudly. 

“Oh my god, fuck.” He breathed through pants as his hips pounded into yours. You felt him release inside of you. Your walls clenched around him upon hearing his long deep guttural moan. 

“I haven’t cum like that in…” he panted before letting out a little chortle of laughter “well in eight months.” 

“So,” there was a loud voice in the room making your heads turn and your stomach’s sink. “You fucked on my desk.” Jimin looked beyond angry as he sat in an office chair across the room with his phone in his hand, pointing it at the both of you. You had no idea when or how he had come in, but you knew you were both beyond physically fucked.

Jungkook had already scrambled to pull out of you and zip his pants back up as you jumped off the desk, pulled your underwear up, and smoothed out your dress.

“That's fine, I have you both on video. I really liked you y/n. Jungkook, Looks like I’m moving out.” he stood from the chair and headed towards the direction of the elevator. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to speak to our boss about this. He probably won't be too happy to see you two are breaking company policy.” 

“Fuck company policy and fuck you! You were an awful friend, roommate and you've always been jealous of me!” Jungkook yelled at him back.

“Not anymore, jobless.” Jimin turned back to give Jungkook a smirk before he stepped into the elevator.

With that, you were both just left there.

“I… I am so so sorry…” Jungkook began apologetically and just as stunned as you were.

“Don’t be, we’re too good for this job anyway, we can find new ones. It looks like you need a new roommate now though.” 

You watched his face as a small smile grew on it.

“Yeah, looking for someone prettier and nicer, maybe someone willing to be my girlfriend? I don't know though, I don’t want to make too many demands.” 

“Well I could meet all of those demands.” you played along. “We won't have to sneak around anymore.”

“Yes, please, yes. I uh- don't want to ruin the cute moment, but I think we should get out of here before Jimin brings the boss up.”

“Oh fuck, right. Uhh, we should probably just never come back too. Let’s just grab our stuff from our desks and make a run for it.”

“Let's go. You know, this is simultaneously the best, worst, most exciting, and most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to me,” he said and you couldn't help but laugh and agree.

Maybe the both of you had made a big mistake, but perhaps there could be good that came from it. You had him back and honestly you didn’t feel too bad about trading your dumb job with its dumb company policy for him.

[salemwritesxx]

𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓼. | 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 2

𝔹 𝕒 𝕜 𝕦 𝕘 𝕠 𝕦  𝕂 𝕒 𝕥 𝕤 𝕦 𝕜 𝕚

     ⇴ male reader [24, pro-hero, alpha, quirk: ice-phoenix]      ⇴ all characters are depicted as [18]+

↣ rating: mature ↣ warnings: abo universe

part 1.

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“… his quirk activated about two months ago. You have no fucking idea how excited he was when he found out it was related to your quirk.”, Katsuki giggled at the end.

He had been talking about Hiroto for almost an hour now and there were still so many things left unsaid. Bakugou wanted you to know everything. All you had missed those past years. However, when he suddenly heard a little sniffle, it broke his heart just further.

“I’m sorry…”, was all he could say in a hushed voice in that moment.

Though you just shook your head and hugged him, head buried in his chest.

“It’s okay… tell me more. Please.”, you mumbled back, trying to keep your tears at bay. But listening to everything you had missed was… painful, to say the least.

Wrapping his own arms around you, the Omega hugged you tightly against his smaller body. Bakugou wanted you to know he wasn’t going to vanish again. And even though it was hard for him to keep on talking, because he could vividly feel your inner Alpha’s turmoil, he just had to do it.

So, he kept talking about what you had missed the past three years.

--

“Hiroto will be home soon. How about we take a shower and let some fresh air into the apartment?”, Katsuki said eventually and you nodded.

“Sounds good.”

“I hope he’s okay though… It was pretty stressful for him meeting you and having to let go again…”

“Hey…”, you took his hand and squeezed it, “Hiro won’t have to let go again. Everything will turn out okay. Don’t worry.”, you kissed his forehead and therefore earned his soft smile.

“You’re right.”

-

You just put on your clothes again when the bell rang, just in time. Following Bakugou into the little hallway and to the front door, your heart was beating way too fast. Why were you nervous now? You had met Hiroto yesterday. It’s not something to be nervous about. But you couldn’t help it.

Once he opened the door, Hiroto came in, his plushy Popo hugged against his chest again. He didn’t look too happy and Katsuki’s friend also just shrugged helplessly. However, it only took a few seconds before the little one realized the different scent and looked up, seeing you standing there a few meters away.

“Oh…”, was the only thing that escaped his mouth before tears welled up in his eyes and then a sob followed soon after.

Hence why you instantly kneeled down and reached out your arms, which Hiroto gladly accepted as he rushed to your side. He even let go of Popo just so he could cling onto your t-shirt, the little phoenix plush falling onto the floor.

Hearing your son’s sobs truly ripped your heart in two, but you know it was because he missed you. Even though he had only seen you on TV, you were his Daddy and he had waited for so long.

Katsuki just thanked his friend, his only fiend, really, for taking care of Hiro last night and even when he asked if he wanted a cup of coffee, Aki just shook his head and grinned. Gesturing with his head towards you and Hiroto, he simply said, “Maybe next time, Bakugou.”

And then walked away, which Bakugou was quite thankful for. There were still so many things he needed to do, now that you were here.

“Hiroto, are you happy?”, Katsuki asked his son after he picked up Popo from the ground.

Hiro, who was snuggling into your arms, crying and sniffling, just nodded. Though, when realization sank in, he suddenly sat back up to look at you.

“You… you won’t… go again… Daddy… wright?”, those [eye.color] eyes were filled with so much fear and sadness as he anticipated your answer.

And with a small smile, you looked to Bakugou who then also stepped closer to wrap his arm around your waist. Your own around his shoulder, the other holding Hiroto securely.

“No… I will stay, Hiro. Daddy will stay.”

With that, your son was crying once again, but this time, only because he was so happy.

-

Since you and Bakugou had slept in quite a bit and Akitoshi had brought Hiroto over just before lunch, Katsuki made something very quick, but healthy for the little boy. You on the other hand were out buying something from the convenience store for Katsuki and you.

It was a little weird. Like… having a family. Every time you had to think back to yesterday. Whenever you caught a glimpse of the time, you couldn’t help but think, “Just yesterday I was clueless and so … hurt and now…?”

But the moment you came home to Bakugou’s apartment and you heard Hiroto’s excited call, it all felt so weirdly… familiar. Intimate. As if you had done all of that all along and you were never apart.

“Ah, [Your.name]? Can you put Hiro down for his nap?”, Bakugou asked you and took the small bag from the convenience store.

“I’ll reheat these in the meantime.”

“But Pappaaaaa! I am not tiwred at all!”, he whined and then reached out to you with his little hands.

“I want to keep on… pwaying with Daddy…”

You were melting. So cute. Though, with a wet wipe, you gently wiped away all the food that was stuck around his little mouth and cheeks and hands and said, “I know Hiro. Daddy wants to keep playing with you, too, but even the strongest little heroes need to take a nap sometimes.”

“Even Daddy?”, with wide [eye.color] eyes he looked at you, making you giggle a little.

“Even Daddy.”

Meanwhile, Bakugou just stood there, his heart melting and so close to crying. No, he wasn’t usually this emotional and he was quite embarrassed when he turned back to quickly wipe them away, but… He was stupid; so, so stupid. And he regretted what happened three years ago even more now – if that was even possible. Katsuki wholeheartedly thought he didn’t deserve another chance from you. He hurt you so much and yet, you were ready to forgive him. He didn’t deserve that at all.

You sensed Bakugou’s sadness and distress. Your inner Alpha was pacing up and down frantically, hence why, when you picked Hiroto up, you walked over to the counter where he was standing.

“Katsuki?”, your Alpha circled his inner Omega before cuddling into it and just like that, he was a little more at ease.

“I love you.”, you whispered and kissed his forehead.

Katsuki instantly reaching out and putting his hand over yours that was holding Hiroto.

“I love you, too.”, then he looked at Hiroto and softly pinched his chubby cheek to make him giggle.

“Goodnight, Hiro.”

“Goodnight, Pappa.”, the little one waved when you carried him away into his room.

Taking a deep breath, Katsuki wiped over his face once more to calm down again. There were many things you still had to talk about. And he was a little scared when he thought about it, but at the same time, he wanted to know – no – he needed to know. What’s going to happen next?

After a few minutes, you came back into the kitchen. Bakugou ready with his two plates and reheated food.

“Let’s eat.”

“Yes.”

And then it was silent once you sat down at the kitchen table.

Another few minutes passed, no one talked. You both knew the next topic was hard to talk about. Neither wanted to be the first to ask what was going to happen next, but eventually, Bakugou was the one to jump into the cold water.

“So…”, he poked his food more than anything, “[Your.name]… What’s going to happen next?”

The question weighed down your heart. What WAS going to happen next? But then, your eyes caught a glimpse of his engagement ring. So, you reached out your hand to touch his, your thumb brushing over the ring.

“I wonder, if everything’s going too fast? Maybe we should do it slowly, but also…”

“Everything feels like we’ve never separated. It feels familiar.”, he said, taking your hand and lacing your fingers together.

“Yeah…. I feel so, too.”, you smiled and squeezed his hand.

“I… I want to say something very selfish, but… I think I’ve been selfish enough the past years.”, he then said in a hushed voice, not even sure if he wanted you to hear.

But you heard him clearly.

“It’s okay.”, that smile of yours was seriously the death of him soon.

Pushing his plate away, he placed his other hand on top of his own. Ruby eyes closed for a moment, before he looked up, gulping one last time before he said, “I want to marry you. I want to continue where we left off three years ago, I… want to be a family. I want you to be Hiroto’s father and I want to be your husband. But I know that’s so much and I… I understand if you can't do that-“

“No.”, you interrupted him.

“No, I want it too.”

“[Your.name]…”

Reaching out your hand as well, you held both of his and smiled at him.

“We’ve been going through so much and even though there is this three year gap, I... want to continue where we left off, too. I want you to marry me and I want to be Hiro’s father. I want to be with you. Yesterday I was struggling to find a reason to stand up in the morning. But- that’s the past. I’ve been hung up on the past for these past years and I’ve had enough. You’re here now. And that’s what matters to me. And if you really feel so too, then, I want to continue where we left off three years ago, too.”

That’s when he broke down again, tears slowly running over his cheeks, before he stood up abruptly. The chair flew back and not even one second later, Bakugou had circled the table and hugged you.

“Oh- Haha I don’t remember you being so emotional.”, you chuckled, but hugged him tightly nonetheless.

His own cried and also somewhat laughed “Shut up.” truly brought you back to your teenage days.

“I don’t deserve you. I hurt you so fucking much, I’ve been so selfish and yet… You still want me. How?”

“Katsuki…”, grabbing his thighs you pulled him onto your lap once you’ve pushed back from the table a bit.

“Listen. You’re my everything.”, cupping his face, you ‘forced’ him to look at you, “And God knows I am a dumb idiot hopelessly in love with you. Yes, you hurt me. Yes, it was hard and yes, sometimes I hated you or at least I told myself I would, but… it’s over now.”

Reaching out to his bonding mark from yesterday, it sent a jolt right through him when you just barely touched it.

“You’re my mate. And I won’t ever let you go again. I love you. I’ve always loved you and I will always love you. That’s just how it is. And that won’t changes. I’m ready for a new beginning. With you and Hiroto.”

Bakugou was just speechless. All he could do was sniffle and shake his head. He didn’t deserve you.

“I promise I won’t hurt you again.”, was all he could whisper while he hugged you.

And that was all you needed to hear.

-

In the afternoon, you, Katsuki and Hiroto walked to the small inn you had stayed at so you would check out in time and not cause any trouble. However, as your son watched you come out with a suitcase, his little eyes got all sad again. Hence why you kneeled down and gently ruffled his spiky hair he surely had from his Pappa.

“Hey, it’s okay, Hiro. Daddy won’t go.”

“Wreally…?”, his tiny hand grabbed your big one as tightly as he could.

“Really.”, you smiled at him before standing back up.

“I talked with my agency and told them I’ll extend my leave for a few weeks.”, you were now talking to Bakugou.

“I’ve worked days and nights for so long. It’s time to take a small time out.”, wrapping your arm around his waist, the other was still holding Hiro’s hand.

“I’m glad.”, kissing your cheek, he nuzzled his head against yours for a moment.

“Aren’t you happy Daddy’s coming home with us?”, he then reached out and took Hiro’s other hand.

“YEESSHHH!”, the little one cheered, grinning from ear to ear when you walked away from the inn.

It wasn’t long, however, until you walked by the park he and Hiroto visited frequently. Thus, the little “Oh, Pappa!” came fairly quickly.

“Hiro, we need to go home first.”

“But Paaaappaaa!”, the little one whined before looking up, “Daddy can I go park and pwlay?”

It was hard resisting him, truly hard. So you looked at Pappa.

“Maybe just a little?”

And as Katsuki looked at you and his son, he couldn’t help but sigh, but also smile a little.

“Fine, but only a little, okay, Hiro?”

“Yessshh!”

Just like that, the little family walked over and while you and Bakugou sat down on one of the benches, Hiroto was playing in the grass and sand.

Leaning against you, your arm was slung around him, and Katsuki’s head was resting on your shoulder. It was pretty quiet as you both just watched Hiro play for a little while. But it wasn’t an awkward silence. You just relished this moment between you both. The inner Alpha and Omega were purring and happy.

However, after a few minutes, Bakugou looked down and saw your suitcase which got him thinking.

“[Your.name]?”

“Hm?”

“What are we gonna do about the living situation?”, he asked and sat up to look at you properly.

“To be honest… I have thought of something. You know I… have a house.”

Blinking twice, Katsuki didn’t understand for a second.

“You mean… really?”

“Yeah. I told you I worked day and night to forget… you, you know? And I had so much money that I didn’t know what to do with it. I was just depressed and didn’t know how to spend it, so I went ahead and build a house. It… reminded me of the dreams we had and the plans we wanted for our future.”

That really hit Bakugou critically. Guilt immediately washed over him.

“Which, in hindsight, wasn’t the best idea because after I moved into the big space I felt even more alone and more depressed…”

It hurts to listen to that, because Bakugou knew it was all his fault. Reaching out his hand, he gently touched your cheek, which immediately made the Alpha in you purr and lean against the soft gesture.

“So… what I wanted to say is, you and Hiroto could move in. It’s in Sashiogi so it’s calm and not the buzzling streets of Tokyo. But commuting to Tokyo for the job is easy and rather quick. Since I felt quite lonely in the big house I did rent a small apartment in Tokyo to get in and out of work quickly. The furniture is not really used and overall the house is pretty empty ‘cuz I didn’t have the willpower to fill it so we need to buy a lot of things and-“, you didn’t know why you couldn’t stop talking. Maybe you were just nervous to find out what Bakugou might think of your plan.

But in the end, he cut you off with a quick kiss and a small smile. Then Katsuki turned to Hiroto who was playing in the grass.

“I’d love to move in.”, slowly, he turned back to look at you again, “And be a family. I do have a little bit of money saved as well so we can buy furniture and other things we need. We can make it cozy and homey so you won’t have to ever feel lonely again.”, the last part he barely whispered as he cuddled closer.

Katsuki’s Omega instantly purring as it rubbed itself against your Alpha for comfort. Which, inevitably, made you smile as you pulled your fiancé closer and kissed him gently.

“I’d love that.”

However, the intimate moment was interrupted by a needy “Daaadddyyy!”, which only made you giggle a little. It was still odd to have that responsibility but it was also a nice feeling.

“I’m coming.”, like that, you let go of your Omega before kneeling down besides your son.

As Bakugou watched you both, he wondered how he had managed to live three years without your support and love. If he wouldn’t have done something so drastic and just vanished, Hiroto could have had you by his side from the beginning, but because he was selfish – though shaking his head slightly, Katsuki interrupted his own thoughts. It was over now. Nothing he could do about it besides regret that decision every day for the rest of his life, but even that wouldn’t help anyone. Right now, all he could do was make it up to you by giving you a family and unconditional love.

-

Ruby eyes fluttered open at the sound of a door closing. The room was barely lit by the moon outside. Though Katsuki’s first reaction was to reach to the other side. You weren’t there, but the side was still warm. Maybe you just went to the bathroom? So, he turned around and tried to fall asleep again.

However, when 15 minutes passed and the clock struck three at last, he sat up. What were you doing? His Omega was a bit antsy, hence why eventually, Katsuki stood up and walked out of his small bedroom and into the hallway. Since his apartment wasn’t the biggest, he easily found you sitting at the table in the kitchen after a few seconds.

You just stared out the window. He wondered what you were thinking…

Walking up to you, he knew you had recognized him due to his scent already, he gently put his hand on your shoulder. Instantly, you reached out and touched his as well. A silent, sweet gesture as you both stood there for a few moments.

Before Bakugou dared to disrupt the silence.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Mmm…”

Then it was quiet yet again for a few moments until-

“You know. It’s so… odd. Every time I try to wrap my head around what happened I am even more confused. Just a few days ago I had no idea Hiroto even existed, it’s just…”, you didn’t know how to continue and just shook your head.

“[Your.name]… If this is going too fast, I can completely understand, we can wait and do it slowly and-“

“No, no, that’s not it, Kat. It’s just…”, then you turned to him and pulled him closer and onto your lap.

“Is this really… real? Am I not just dreaming? I still can’t believe all of this is happening. I’m scared I’m going to close my eyes and everything turns out to be an illusion or a dream.”

His heart sank into the pit of his stomach hearing that. He knew everything was going so fast and others might frown upon you both doing things so quickly after not hearing anything from each other for three years. But there weren’t any things left unsaid.

You had yelled at each other. You had cried together. You had talked it out. You had bonded with each other. You had forgiven him.

Right now, it felt like you had never been apart. Familiar. Intimate.

Now, the only thing you both could do was wait for time to heal the scars he had left in your heart and soul.

… Well, there was one more thing Katsuki could do to make sure you would realize this was real.

“You ain’t dreaming.”, cupping your cheek, he pushed you back against the chair, his lips brushing against your own, “I’ll make sure you know this is very real.”

Like that, he connected your lips. A heated kiss ignited. Mouths tangled and arms slung around your neck. The Omega purred and the Alpha growled as you embraced each other.

This was not a dream.

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@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

⇻ salem.talks: why do I feel like it would be funny to write a bonus part where the friends react to them being back together and finding out the real reason aka hiroto askdjhaf well idk if I’ll do that to myself lmao

[gotnofucks]

His Responsibility

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x Reader

Summary: When you’re pregnant and scared, Andy decides he will take the responsibility, whether you want it or not.

Words: 3.4k

Warning: Non-con/Dub-con, smut, breeding kink, pregnancy, age gap (reader is in 20s), 18+ ONLY

A/N: This is my slightly late entry for @just-one-ordinary-fangirl​ 1000 followers challenge. Congratulations Lucy, you beautiful, absolutely breathtaking soul. I love you so much! The prompt has been bolded.

The crook of your elbow still throbbed as you drove away from the labs, having just given a blood sample. Jacob was supposed to be with you but like every other time, he had bailed out. Seeing no other option, you changed your path and turned towards the Barber house, hoping to find answers there.

You hesitated a moment before getting out and ringing the bell, nervously twisting the hem of your t-shirt. Sweat and tears were threatening to spill over and you hastily blinked while wiping at your hairline, ringing the bell again. You straighten once the door was swung open, coming face to face with Andy Barber.

His mouth opened in surprise, eyes taking in your bothered appearance. Softly saying your name in question, he moved aside to let you in, frowning at you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. You wanted to start bawling. Everything about your life was spiraling out of your control and you needed to talk before things went worse. Before you could speak however, you heard footsteps behind you and saw Jacob come down the stairs, looking outraged at seeing you in his house.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He rudely snapped and your eyes narrowed. What had ever possessed you to date this bastard?

“Jacob!” Andy scolded, “that’s no way to talk to your girlfriend.”

You scoffed as Jacob rolled his eyes. You’d broken up nearly a month ago, and while he’d been desperate to have you back at first, now he only went about telling anyone who’d listen what a sanctimonious bitch you were.

“We broke up dad.” Jacob said. “What are you doing here? You didn’t really think I’ll take you back, did you?”

Your fingers curled into a fist, a sneer curling on your lips as you glared at him. You wouldn’t touch this piece of shit with a ten feet pole.

“Take me back? I broke up with you, asswipe.” You snapped. “And anyway, I am not here for you. I need to speak with Mr. Barber.”

Jacob’s eyes narrowed suspiciously while Andy’s frown deepened, his gaze questioningly fixed on you.

“What about?” Jacob asked, crossing his arms across his chest. You noted with wry amusement how pathetic he looked next to his father who was watching your interaction with displeasure. Andy and you and had always gotten along well, and even before you broke up, you often wondered how such a man raised a dick like Jacob.

“None of your fucking business. Mr. Barber, can we please talk?” You asked, addressing Andy. He motioned you towards the direction of his study and you made your way there, trying not to pay attention to Jacob’s protests as he and Andy argued. You sat in Andy’s study, wiping your sweaty hands on your pants. You were scared, angry and humiliated but Andy was your last hope.

He came in a couple minutes later, shutting the door after him and taking the seat across from you. Andy looked at you kindly, giving you a small smile that reminded you of how often he had sided with you over his son in previous arguments. You could talk to him. He would understand.

“Please, don’t judge me.” You pleaded and saw him roll his eyes. After everything that you knew happened to their family, Andy Barber is the last person who’d ever judge anyone.

“Don’t insult me by saying that.” He chided. “You can talk to me freely.”

You took a deep breath before reaching inside your bag and pulling out the pregnancy test. Two pink lines glared back at you, and once you passed it on to Andy, his eyes widened. He looked from the small stick to you, twice, blinking in surprise.

“Jacob?” He asked and you nodded.

You’d told him you missed your period last week and got a positive result but he neither answered your texts nor call you back. After three days of silence, you’d finally managed to get him to agree to accompany you for a blood test, but he had been a no show today as well.

“I don’t know what to do.” You admitted, shoulders slumping down in defeat. A baby didn’t fit any of your current plans and you were shit scared of how your parents would react. It didn’t help that the father of the baby didn’t look like someone who would help you shoulder the responsibility.

“Does he know?” Andy asked, rolling the stick in his hands. His voice had gone hard, but you knew it was mostly directed at his careless son than you.

“I told him. He was supposed to come with me to the hospital today. I waited for over an hour.” You said. You jumped when Andy’s hand slammed against the table suddenly, body leaned forward as he fixed you with a terribly furious gaze.

“Hospital?” He questioned, gaze accusing and you reeled back, raising your hand. You understood what he was implying, and though he didn’t have any say in it, you didn’t comment on his reaction.

“I went for a formal blood test. Sometimes these tests can be faulty.” You explained and watched Andy slump back in his chair, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. There was silence until he sighed deeply, folding his hands and leaning his elbows on the table.

“I am sorry.” He apologized. “About myself and my son. He’s a nasty piece of shit.”

You cracked a small smile, sharing an amused look with Andy until you started chuckling. That chuckle turned to a laugh, and your body vibrated as you lost all control. You laughed, you laughed until it turned into a sob and then a wail, helpless cries leaving your mouth with seemingly no end. Tears made their way down your eyes and into your open mouth, coating your tongue in bitter saltiness and you were suddenly in Andy’s arm, cradled to his chest where he held you tight.

He rocked your sobbing body slowly, patting your back and head as you wet his shirt with your snot and tears. Your helplessness and fear about what the future held had you snapping, and you let out your sorrows in the arms of the man who sired the reason for all your problems.

You may have cried for a few minutes or hours, you didn’t know. But Andy didn’t push you away, holding you until the last of your sniffles disappeared and you were able to breath normally. Mortified, your cheeks burning with heat and humiliation you raised your head from his chest to meet his eyes, watery gaze meeting a kind and concerned one.

“I am so sorry.” You whispered, embarrassed at having lost control like this.

A rough hand wiped at the wet tear tracks on your face, gentle and soft as he finally turned your chin up again.

“Don’t be. You deserve a breakdown.” Andy said, smiling softly at you. He slowly moved away and took his own seat, passing you a glass of water and not speaking until you’d taken a few sips. “Who else knows?”

“Just you for now. My parents…they aren’t exactly going to be supportive about this.” You answered, looking down. Your conservative family will either have you disowned or in an arranged marriage within a week.

When Andy spoke your name, you saw him conflicted. The lines in his forehead were deepened, unsure as to what to say to you.

“Do you want me to talk to Jacob? Because I assure you, he’ll take the responsibility. I’ll make him do it.” He promised you.

“At this point, I think my life would be better off without him. I am just here to discuss options with you.” You said and Andy frowned again.

“You wanna get rid of it?” He gruffly questioned, jaw clenched. You held in your frustration, allowing him to have his own opinions.

“No” You said, “I just wanna know my rights. I want to know that my position at the university and work will not be compromised. I want to know about child support and the laws that protect me. I need advice Mr. Barber. If I will bring a life into this world, I want to be prepared for it. I may have made a lot of bad decisions, but I refuse to be a bad mother.”

Andy looked at you as if looking at you for the first time. You saw him process your words until he slowly nodded, not looking away from you.

“I’ll help you. Give me a few days, I’ll compile all that you need.”

You were just about to sleep when you heard the knocking. Putting a robe over your t-shirt and shorts you went to answer the door, surprised when it was Andy. It had been three days since your talk, and you were to pick your blood reports the following morning.

“Mr. Barber” You greeted, letting him in. Why was he here so late?

“We need to talk.” Andy said, taking a seat on your couch. You bit your lip as you sat near him, wondering what had him looking so serious.

“I spoke to Jacob. He refused to take any responsibility. I am sorry I raised a jackass who won’t step in.” Andy said and you pursed your lips, not in the least bit surprised. You’d already gathered that Jacob was a fucking jerk, and you’d rather your kid have no dad than a deadbeat one.

“You don’t need to apologize Mr. Barber, it is not your fault.” You assured Andy.

“Please, call me Andy. I want you to know that if Jake won’t step in, I will. I will take care of you.” Andy promised and you blinked before shaking your head.

“I – Andy, that’s really sweet of you. But outside of legal advice I don’t need any help. I am a strong woman. I can take care of myself and my kid. Also, no offense, but I don’t want my kid too close to his father’s side and then have them wonder why dad doesn’t love them.” You said.

Andy regarded you slowly, a hand rubbing his beard before he rested back against the couch.

“No.” He said firmly.

“No?” You asked, confused. What did he mean no?

“Don’t ever say anything like that ever again. That child, they are a Barber. You’re not taking them away from me.” Andy said, fixing you with his deep blue eyes. You mouth parted in shock, a hazy sort of disbelief clouding your vision.

“Excuse me?” You sputtered, looking at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“That child will not grow up without a father. If Jake won’t claim them, I will. They have my blood in their veins too.” Andy said.

He was speaking, but he made no sense. You looked at him, not taking in a word he said. The only thing you focused on was how Andy had inched closer to you, sitting right next to you until your thighs touched. You blinked before quickly getting up to move away when Andy grabbed your hand and pulled you down beside him again.

“Andy! Let me go!” You cried, hitting against his shoulder. He didn’t move away, instead, he placed his other hand on your tummy, gently feeling.

“This is my kid inside you now. No one will know it’s Jake’s. I am your baby daddy.” Andy announced and before you knew it, his lips had enveloped yours, kissing you deep and hard. You struggled in his hold, panic making you trash as tears ran down your face. You pushed until Andy pulled away, holding you tight by your waist.

“Please, let me go.” You sobbed, uncomprehending of how things had gotten so out of hand.

“No. We will make sure this kid is mine. After tonight, no one will doubt their parentage.” He said and stood up, pulling your resisting body with him towards your bedroom. He more or less dragged you inside, locking the door and throwing you on your bed.

You crawled away from him, clutching your robe tight in fear as he came closer. His blue eyes had gotten darker, and you couldn’t look away as he unbuttoned his shirt.

“Please, don’t do this. Why are you doing this?” You begged, body trembling as he came closer. You shifted away but Andy dragged you back by your ankle, holding your body down with his weight as his hands came to remove your clothes.

“I’m making our relationship legit. I am giving myself a new chance at family with a perfect mother who will raise a good kid with me.” He said, kissing you again. Your robe slipped away, and Andy’s hands went under your t-shirt, racing up to cup your tits. He groaned in your mouth, tasting you and your tears as you weakly protested.

“No. You can’t do this.” You said, crying harder when his lips went from your jaw to your neck, kissing sweetly. His beard scratched against your skin, hands pinned underneath his massive body as he vowed to claim you and your kid.

“I can. I can do this, and you can’t stop me.” He whispered hotly in your ear, fighting your t-shirt off your wiggling body. Your bare chest met cold air, and soon enough your nipples were enveloped with the warmth of Andy’s mouth. He suckled gently, then harder, biting then soothing the sting with his tongue.

“These tits now belong to me.” He said, moving over to lavish is attention to the other breast before dipping lower to pepper kisses over your stomach. “Don’t worry little one, daddy is here. You’ll always have a father in me.”

You grew tired as your limbs hurt, your pathetic hits doing nothing to Andy. He seemed not to notice your cries or pleas, his nose nudging against your covered mound. You made one last effort to fight, kicking out your legs to push him away but Andy caught them, turning you on your side and delivering a sharp slap to your backside that had you gasping in pain and shock.

“Don’t be a fucking brat. You have to be a good mother to our child. You need to learn obedience to teach obedience.” He scolded you, pulling down your shorts and panties in a quick move. You sagged helplessly, not fighting anymore as Andy stripped off his own clothes. Any other day you would have appreciated how good he looked for a man his age, but now all you registered was how huge and strong he was, how easily he could overpower you.

He pulled your legs apart, baring your pussy to his hungry eyes. To your mortification, your folds were wet with slick, the curls on your mound glistening with the evidence of your arousal. You hid your face in embarrassment, unable to watch as Andy placed a kiss on the hood of your clit.

“Beautiful” He said breathlessly. “Absolutely gorgeous. Jacob never deserved you. He wouldn’t know how to handle a girl like you.”

With the first contact of his tongue, you bit your lip to stifle your moans. No man had eaten you with such passion before, as if you were a feast prepared for a man starved for years. Andy took his time exploring your pussy, opening you up like a flower before nudging his tongue in every fold, every crevice of you. He slurped and sucked, using his lips and tongue and teeth with such precision that you didn’t realize you were howling openly in the air now.

He eased one finger inside your entrance, lips pulling at your hard nub in a way that shot tingles up your spine. You fisted the bedsheet, twisting this way and that, unknowingly thrusting your pelvis in Andy’s face who could feel you were close.

“Let go darling,” He urged, “let go for me. Cum!”

You snapped, your back arching as you spilled around his finger that was clamped tightly in your velvet heat, his mouth greedily collecting all the moisture with relish. Pleasure left you lethargic and you didn’t react as Andy crawled up your body, kissing you while he coated his huge tool in your juices.

“Andy” You softly whispered, falling into a daze as he entered you slowly. Your still pulsing channel was snug against his cock, the hair at his base rubbing deliciously against your clit. He was way larger than his son and you felt full in a way you had never before.

“Your pussy belongs to me. You belong to me from now.” He promised, moving in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. He made your feel every ridge of his cock that rubbed against your spongy walls, he had you giving a high pitch screech every time he hit bottom. The mattress under you bounced with the movements of your body and your hands found themselves around Andy’s neck.

“I just want to be a good mother. I didn’t ask you for this.” You said, unable to keep your moans inside as he went faster.

“You need a strong man who will give you a family. Our kid will grow in a house of love. I will love you both and so will you.”

You tensed as he teased your clit, twiddling it with his thumb as he hit harder and deeper. His eyes were fixed at your entrance, watching enthralled as he went in and out of your body. The sounds of slapping skin and squelching fluid that dribbled down from your cunt to the bedsheet echoed around the room, and soon, you were falling again. You came with Andy’s name on your lips, both a curse and a prayer as you felt him groan and twitch inside you.

His warm cum painted your walls, marking you as his. He stayed in for sometime, holding you possessively close to his sweaty body until you were sure you smelt like him. He pulled out, appreciating how him cum flowed out of your abused hole and he smiled. Softly kissing your forehead, he gathered you in his arms and pulled a sheet over your slightly trembling frame, soothing you with gentle caresses.

“I knew it the moment he brought you home to meet me for the first time. You were too good for him. He never loved you right, never treated you like the princess you were. But now I’ve got you. You’ll wake up to coffee and breakfast and lazy kisses in bed, you’ll come home to a comfortable house and a dick that will give you a show of heaven. I’ll love you like you deserve to be loved. With reverence and devotion.”

He left you, coming back to clean the mess between your legs gently. He fed you himself, wiping every tear with a kiss until you stopped crying all together. Looking at him, the man who had violated your trust and body with equal parts of force and love, you wondered for a moment how drastically your life would change now.

You did not want him to accompany you inside, but he did. He snatched your report from your hand, keeping a hold over your waist until you went back to the car. Sitting beside you on the driver’s side, he tore open the envelope and pulled out your blood report, falling backward with a long sigh.

“What? What is it?” You asked, quickly taking it from his hands and reading. The paper crinkled as your fingers dug in it, tears of pain building in your eyes.

Negative

Not pregnant

It had all been for nothing. You didn’t have the Barber’s heir inside you and last night Andy had taken you by force for nothing. You crushed the report, wiping at your eyes and found his gaze on you.

“You fucked me for nothing.” You spat acidly, frustration and pain clawing at your heart. “I am not pregnant. And I am going.”

Before you had ever turned to open the door, Andy was pulling you roughly to himself, hauling your struggling body over his lap.

“You’re not going anywhere darling. You’re mine now. I’m not pathetic like my son. Unlike him, I will put a baby in you.” He growled in your ear, kissing a hot trail against your neck. You shook your head, looking at him in disbelief.

“But – but I’m not pregnant.” You said again, hoping he’ll understand.

“I know baby” He cooed, “but soon enough, you will be. Let’s go home and make it happen.”