#but then started calling me privileged for ''being able to sit at home all day and do nothing''

[tittyinfinity]

Depression/PTSD recovery is wild because you could be doing greater than you've ever been in your life but then one small thing happens that reminds you of "that time" and suddenly all of the past emotions flood back into you and you feel like you're back to being the kid who's crying and shaking in the corner wondering if the people closest to you would be so much happier without you

[napakmahal]

Baby Fever

This may or may not be a call out towards myself cause I will swear up and down I don’t want kids then see a baby in public and be like “goo goo gaga”

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that working on slow days is beyond boring. What’s even worse is when the only people that come in on slow days are shitty customers.

“The manners of today’s working class have depleted in ways I cannot fathom!” Hiro came bursting into the back of the café restaurant with a look of disbelief on his face.

Without looking up from his phone, Tadashi answered “Wow those are some big words, little brother, I’m impressed.”

“Shut up!”

You laughed while sitting on the wooden countertop, arms hugging your boyfriend’s back. “What happened?”

Hiro plopped down on the stool in front of the sink and started to rant. “This woman comes in here and she bought a mocha latté and then complained about it being six dollars. Like I’m the one who makes the fricken prices! Surprise, surprise she didn’t have enough. So what did she do? SHE REACHED INTO THE TIP JAR AND GRABBED TWO DOLLARS! But then after I took her order and started making her drink, she followed me around the entire time watching me. She pointed at the simple syrup and was like ‘Can you add another pump?’ LIKE UNLESS YOU’RE GOING TO PAY THE EXTRA 25 CENTS NO I CANNOT! And when I finally gave it to her she said I took too long and that the place down the street makes them faster and they taste better. THEN GO THERE AND STOP WRINGING OUT MY PATIENCE!”

By the end of his story, you and Tadashi were losing your minds over how hard you were laughing. Granted, Hiro being upset wasn’t funny but his storytelling abilities were unmatched.

Customers could be very difficult and earlier that day someone had told Tadashi they wanted a manager because they were being pissy about not being able to get a refund on a drink they ordered and drank half of. If it were any other day, he would have just gone to get his Aunt. But Aunt Cass went out for a girl’s day with her friends since all of them happened to be in town and relatively free at the same time. As you get older, hanging out with friends is a privilege.

A couple of dings from the bell on the front counter rang signaling the arrival of a customer. Hiro’s fight of flight sense kicked in and he practically jumped off the floor.

“No, absolutely not.” He shook his head. “I’m not taking them, my workday is over.”

“What?” Your boyfriend looked at his little brother. “It’s been two hours!”

“Yes Tadashi, it has been two hours!” He hissed. “Two hours of my life I will never get back. These people are insane!”

Hiro took off and locked himself in the walk-in pantry. He then proceeded to slam his face into an unopened bag of flour and scream his heart out.

“Oh my gosh, he’s so dramatic.” Tadashi stared at the door of the pantry, listening to his little brother’s muffled cries.

The bell was still ringing outside, the customer was still waiting. You laughed into Tadashi’s back, taking in his smell. Tadashi’s a clean person and not only that, his natural body smell is just pleasant. Just about everything you own smells like him, and you love it.

“Do you want me to get it?” You mumbled against his cardigan.

Your boyfriends turned around to look at you. “What? Why would you do that?”

“Just to help out.” You shrugged.

“Hun, you don’t work here. You really don’t have to.”

You scoffed, “You don’t work here either. Technically.”

“But I live here, so I kinda have to.”

“Tadashi, I practically live here.”

He laughed at that. It was pretty true. The only times you ever really went home were to get things you didn’t have, do your laundry, or if you felt like they were getting sick of you. Plus you never really feel like that anymore because the last time you said you feared Aunt Cass wanted you out of her house she almost started crying. She was afraid she’d done something to make you feel unwelcomed. Besides, you’re her girl in a house full of boys and their bots.

“Are you sure? I can get it, or force Hiro to do it.”

“No, it’s not a big deal.”

He leaned over and pecked you on the lips. “Okay, thank you hunny. I appreciate you so much.”

You walked outside the curtain only to be met with a young couple and their baby. He was holding onto her and trying to rip away a claw clip from her baby grip.

“Yeah, mommy’s clip is pretty.” He said in a small voice. “But we can’t eat it though.”

“What is she doing?” The mom asked looking back at her partner and their baby.

“Trying to eat your clip. I’m telling you she’s going to get sick, last night it was the pen then-”

“Hi there!” You walked towards them smiling. “So sorry about the wait.”

The mom shook her head. “No, it’s fine. We were trying to calm her down anyway.”

“What can I get you guys?”

They went on to order one green apple Italian soda with redbull, an iced hazelnut coffee, and a small warm almond milk with a cake pop. The entire time you were making their drinks, you couldn’t help but notice the babbling of their baby. She was adorable, dressed in a pink sundress and flower-shaped sunglasses. Everything from the sound of the blender to the noise the can of Red Bull made when popped open made her giggle.

During that entire time, you couldn’t help but wonder: What if Tadashi and you had a baby? What would you name them? If it was a boy, then you could name them after him or Hiro. Naomi was a beautiful name for a girl. You could buy them little themed onesies and decorate their rooms. They would say ‘dada’ before ‘mama’ because it’s beyond simple to connect with Tadashi. And they could go to school and crush their science department and say it’s because their dad is a genius.

By the time you snapped back into reality, you’d already made all their drinks and made sure to cool down the small milk for the baby. When you placed everything on the dropoff, the little girl reached her hand down from where she was being held and poked the back of your wrist with her tiny finger.

“Hello there!” You smiled at her. “Aren’t you adorable?”

Your face only made her start to giggle and placed her hand on her chin and flicked it outwards. Thank you in sign language. In return, you placed your hand flat on your chin and pulled it down towards your chest to say ‘You’re welcome’.

“She’s beautiful.” You spoke to her parents. “What’s her name?”

“This is Nyla,” Her mom smiled at her baby. “She just turned ten months, so we’re almost there.”

You gently clapped your hands together, “Oh that’s amazing. Congratulations.”

“What about you?” Nyla’s dad asked.

Her mom joined in on the questioning. “Any little ones?”

You almost choked on your own saliva at their question. I guess to them it didn’t seem too extreme. They barely looked three years older than you.

“No, I don’t. I haven’t been with my current boyfriend long enough for that. And I don’t even know if he wants any.”

Nyla’s mom gave you a sympathetic face. “Well, if you end up wanting any I hope the process is smooth.”

You thanked them and signed “bye” to Nyla. Despite them being gone, the baby fever they’d given you without trying lingered all the way into the night.

——————————————————————————

While you were lying on your boyfriend’s bed scrolling on your phone through countless baby videos and falling down the rabbit hole of how skin-to-skin connection works and how to swaddle them correctly so they don’t scratch themselves when they sleep. As your back was turned you felt a dent in the bed as your boyfriend started kissing your back from your tailbone to your shoulder blades.

“What ya’ lookin’ at hun?” He plopped down next to you and started snaking his arms around your waist.

“Just scrolling,” You kept your answer vague out of fear of freaking him out. “Hey, did you know that if you rub a teething baby’s mouth with warm garlic it will make them feel better than cold cloths?”

Tadashi kissed the side of your jaw, the tingle of his minty toothpaste prickling your skin. “I did not, that’s pretty cool.”

“When you swaddle babies you’re supposed to get them little mittens because they have really sharp fingernails.” You added.

Tadashi’s face contorted with confusion. “Why all this baby talk? What are you watching?”

“Just a bunch of baby videos.”

“Why?”

You sighed and put the phone down to turn your body down and look him in the eyes. “Well, while I was helping those customers earlier. They had such a cute baby and we just talking about having kids and stuff and I think they gave me like- baby fever or something.”

To your surprise, he started to laugh.

“Why are you laughing?” You poked.

“I’m sorry,” He grabbed your wrists. “I didn’t mean to laugh, you just caught me off guard.”

Your heart flipped in your chest out of nervousness. Had you freaked him out? “Is that bad?”

“No, no it’s not.” He assured you. “So, you want a baby?”

You covered your face with your hands and groaned. “I mean, right now yeah but then I think about like the birth process and then I’m like ‘nuh unh.’”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think you’d make a fantastic mom.” Tadashi smiled into your neck.

You leaned over and rammed your head into his stomach. “Can we have one?”

The feeling of Tadashi’s stomach fluctuating while he laughed pushed against your head. “Maybe later, hun.”

“So you do want kids?”

He grabbed you by the face and forced you to look back up at him. “Yeah, I’ve told you that before. I’ve said I want a daughter, and I want her to look like you, and I want to decorate her room and throw her birthdays, and go to all her school and sports events.”

“I want her to have your nose.” You admitted.

Tadashi started laughing and shaking his head. “No, no she will get bullied. Trust me I know.”

“No matter son or daughter, they should take Japanese lessons.” You added.

“Yeahhhh,” Tadashi breathed through his teeth. He knew enough Japanese to ask someone for very general directions. But the second a native speaker started talking a little too fast, all his comprehension skills started to deplete.

You could have kids in future years, when you had a shared place and both of you were done with school. Besides, it’s not like anything at all could break the two of you apart.

[g-hughes]

Bite Me - Q. Hughes

hockey masterlist | g's graduation celly

synopsis: When one of Quinn's teammates asks if their sister could stay with him to bounce back after a break-up, Quinn said yes. But six months later, Quinn feels like he has met his matched. Or when Quinn Hughes falls for his roommate, who happens to be his teammate's sister.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: smut mentioned! friends with benefits situation, Boeser!Reader, nudity, cursing.

Quinn Hughes thought of himself as being a “good guy”. He held doors open for people, swapped seats on airlines when asked, donated money to various charities, and spent time, when he could, coaching the Canucks Youth Team. He was a good guy and an even better teammate and captain.

He prided himself on being the one on the team the guys could go to when they needed advice or just someone to sit and listen to them rant. He would give his teammate the shirt off his back if one of them asked. So when Brock Boeser, Quinn’s best friend, asked if his younger sister could crash with him for a few days, Quinn said yes without even really thinking it through. 

“It’ll be a few days,” Brock assured Quinn as he brought in one of her suitcases, “Her dick head ex cheated on her and threw all her shit in the driveway. She was gonna spring for a hotel, but I couldn’t let her do that. I’d let her stay at mine, but we’re remod-” 

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Quinn assured his winger, “I know you’d do the same if it was one of my brother’s. She can crash here as long as she needs.” 

“She swears it’ll only be a few days.” 

But a few days turned into a few weeks, and a few weeks into a few months. Now it's been six months and Y/N Boeser has become Quinn’s official unofficial roommate. And he hated it. 

Quinn didn’t want a roommate, nor did he need one. He actually loved coming home to a quiet apartment after weeks on the road. He liked the solitude of being able to hide away from the cameras and the press in his face and following his every move. He liked to be able to walk around damn near naked and not have to worry about being walked in on. But having a roommate, all those privileges had been taken away. 

“Quintin! You parked in my fucking spot!” Y/N yelled as she slammed the front door shut. Quinn smirked to himself, as he finished mixing around the vegetables in the pan. He knew exactly what he did and he knew it was going to piss you off. Quinn had two parking spots, one for himself and one for a guest (which had become Y/N as of late), and he decided that tonight, he was going to forget his driver’s ed training and park in the middle of the two spots. 

“Quintin,” Y/N groaned, coming into the kitchen, setting down her bags from work. Quinn looked over his shoulder, trying his hardest to fight the urge to stare at your breasts. 

Yes, Quinn hated having a roommate, but it did come with its own perks. Such as, his roommate was very, very attractive. 

“Oh hey sweetheart,” Quinn smirked, “Did I miss something?” 

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms across her chest, pushing her tits up even more in the tight tanktop she was wearing, “You know what you fucking did, you parking in the middle of the spots again!” 

"Oh, I did?" He feigned innocence, "Well, maybe if you didn't leave all your damn shoes by the fucking door!"

"It was one pair! One pair, Quintin!"

"Quit calling me Quintin!"

Y/N groaned and grabbed her bag, stomping her way out of the kitchen. Quinn turned back towards the dinner he was cooking, his mood sour. He had such a good day too. Practice went smoothly, Toch only yelled at them for an hour instead of two. Things were finally starting to take a turn after a losing streak that put everyone on edge. Quinn felt the weight of the world on his shoulders, his first season as captain after a disappointing season. He had to prove himself, he had to prove that he was worthy of the captain spot. 

Oh, and waking up with Y/N’s mouth wrapped around his cock was an added bonus. 

Quinn hated to admit it out loud, it made him feel dirty and wrong about it, but there was nothing dirty and wrong about it. It seemed to have happened naturally, the tension between them building since the moment Quinn first saw Y/N. He had done his best to ignore her for the first week she was occupying his guest room. She had just been broken up with in a horrible way, and was trying to pick up the pieces of a shattered years-long relationship. But then she started to come out of her room, and she was like a storm, Quinn had no idea how to brace for. 

She was sassy, and smart, and beautiful, and stubborn, and messy, and so fucking sexy when she was pissed off about something work or at Quinn for parking over the line of his parking spot. 

It was bound to happen, the tension and animosity growing between them as the days went by. It turned into more than Quinn bitching about the shoes by the front door, which he had repeatedly told her to stop leaving them there. It turned into her bitching at Quinn for leaving dirty plates in the sink. Then it was Quinn bitching about how she would take the full garbage bag out of the can and leave it by the front door (in her defense, the dumpster was in the alley behind the building and Quinn didn’t feel very comfortable with her taking it out late at night). Then it was Y/N bitching about Quinn leaving his travel bag, unpacked, in the laundry room between roadies. 

The final straw for both of them was when they both came home, unsatisfied in different ways. Quinn had come home from a long roadie, the majority of them being losses. All he wanted to do was take a bath and relax and regroup for the next series ahead. Y/N, had come home from yet another shitty date. She insisted that her date didn’t need to walk her to the door, but he wanted to make sure she got in safely, or so he said. Quinn could hear her fake laughter from the other side of the door, as he stood at the kitchen counter, waiting for the tea kettle to whistle. 

“I had a good time,” She said, “Thanks for walking me back.” 

“No problem,” A male’s voice sounded out, “Ya know. . . this doesn’t have to end here.” 

Quinn grimaced. It didn’t take a genius to know that Y/N wasn’t interested. 

“I uh. . . I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Quinn could almost picture her nervously pushing her hair behind her ear, “I’ll give you a call.” 

“C’mon,” The guy was sounding desperate, “We both want to end the night right.” 

It was silent for a moment, and for some odd reason, anger flowed through Quinn’s body. Was the guy kissing her? Was she seriously considering letting him in? Quinn had never brought it up, but he assumed that Y/N wasn’t having people over. Not that she couldn’t, he guessed, it was her place too. But for some reason, the idea of her having a man in her bed pissed him off. 

“You’re right,” Y/N sighed. Quinn’s body seemed to move on it’s own accord as he walked over to the front door, his hand wrapping around the knob, “I better go see if my vibrator is charged. Night, Marcus!” 

Quinn jumped back startled as the front door was pushed open and Y/N charged in. He could see the confused face of the man, Marcus, behind the door as it slammed in his face. Y/N groaned as she kicked off her shoes and tossed her purse on the couch. Quinn wanted so badly to make a comment about her shoes, but instead he said;

“You have a vibrator?” 

Y/N looked at him, one eyebrow raised, “I am not a 16 year old. Of course I have a vibrator. Almost every woman has one.” 

“You use it?” 

“Yes, perv,” Y/N scoffed, and reached for her purse, “Boe said you were quiet, but I didn’t know quiet meant stalker. Night.” 

Quinn blinked several times as she walked down towards her room. His mind, again, thinking of other things to say, like apologizing for asking her such a vulnerable question, but instead, once again he blurted the wrong thing. 

“I don’t want you having sex in my house.” 

Y/N paused in her walk, holding still for a moment and turning around to face him, “Excuse me?” 

“I don’t want you having sex in my house,” Quinn stood firm on what he said, even though he regretted it the second he said it. Even though her name wasn’t on the lease, she was still living and paying rent (Quinn told her several times her money was useless, but she cried and told him she had to contribute somehow). 

“I am not.” 

“Good.” 

“Good?” 

“Mhm,” Quinn nodded. It was silent again as the two of them stared each other down, tension thick in the air like smoke. 

“Need anything else?” Y/N asked, breaking the silence. She folded her arms under her chest, pushing her breasts up in the tight black dress she was wearing. Quinn gulped, taking in her appearance; short, tight black dress, black leather jacket, black heels that made her legs look like they went on for miles. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, a dainty good chain around her neck. Quinn gulped, thinking and praying of anything that would keep the blood from rushing south. 

“Nope,” He shook his head. 

“Good,” Y/N responded, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to end my night right.” Quinn felt his boxers grow tighter as she turned on her heel, and walked down to her door. She stopped just before going inside her room, “Ya know, a gentleman would ask if I need help.” 

Quinn watched as her eyes seemed to turn a shade darker and looked him over from head to toe. In two quick strides, Quinn was pushing her against her door, his lips on hers. Her hands were in his hair, pulling on the locks she told him not to cut. His hands roamed her body, pulling her as close to him as she could possibly get. He shamelessly rutted her hips against her, his cock begging for release from his pants. 

“If I fuck you, will you stop leaving your shoes by the door?” Quinn mumbled, his lips leaving a trail of searing hot kisses on her skin. 

“If you do a good job, I might consider it.” 

From that night, their friends with benefits relationship blossomed. One would think with the among of orgasms they gave each other, that the animosity would be nearly nonexistent. But it only seemed to up the ante between them. The fights were louder, the pranks were almost near nuclear, and the sex. . . the sex was downright rough and dirty. It almost became part of Quinn’s pregame ritual, to fuck Y/N or jerk off to a video of her. 

Y/N clenched her jaw as she threw her dirty work clothes into the hamper, getting ready to shower the day off. She grabbed her speaker, making sure to turn it up loud enough to annoy Quinn down in the kitchen. He hated her taste in music, and she was well aware of it, always taking the aux cord from her when they would drive to Roger’s. Quinn also liked to eat his dinner in silence, claiming it was one of the only times of his day he had to himself. 

Smiling, she turned on Taylor Swift, letting the bass hit her ears as she stepped into the hot stream of her shower. 

Quinn was mid bite when the all too familiar intro to “SLUT!” started playing. He groaned, slamming his fork down, “One dinner. One fucking dinner in peace.” He pushed his chair away, storming down the hallway towards Y/N’s room. He wasn’t surprised to find her bedroom door unlocked, almost as if she was expecting him. He was about to push the door open, when he heard another all too familiar sound coming from the other side, the blood in his body rushing south. He smirked, imagining how deep her fingers were inside of her to get that kind of reaction. 

Quinn could tell she was getting close by the way her moans got higher pitched. He knew now was the time to strike. Pushing the door open, he walked right over to her shower and yanked back the curtain. 

“Quintin!” Y/N squealed, pulling her hands away from her core and covering her chest, “What the fuck!?” 

"Don't be shy, sweetheart," He smirked, looking up and down her soaking wet body. He licked his lips, and she scoffed, turning away from him, "Oh come on, it's not like I haven't seen it before. Turn back around, lemme see the girls again."

"Oh bite me, Hughes!" Y/N turned the shower head towards him, affectively soaking him. Quinn turned his body away from the water stream that was not only soaking his t-shirt and shorts, but the floor. 

"No," Quinn grunted and grabbed the shower head, turning it back towards her, "You'd enjoy it too much."

Y/N looked over at him, "You're all wet."

"That makes two of us now, huh," Quinn shot her that megawatt smile. Y/N rolled her eyes and snatched the shower curtain from his hand.

"You just lost your invite!"

my requests are open!! :)

[ssahotstuff]

Hiii! Would you be able to write a Hotch x female reader smut where he has an innocence kink ? Maybe virgin reader as well?

This was so much fun to write! Let me know if I should do a part 2 about reader touching Aaron for the first time! 🥰

Warnings; innocence kink, virgin reader, first time, oral, fem receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, cursing, phone sex kinda, dirty talking

Word Count: 5.9k

Aaron was well aware of the fact that you had never been touched. You had sheepishly told him during a heavy make out session one night months ago, but you had given him the okay to take your virginity whenever he saw fit. The opportunity hadn't arose for Aaron to make it special for you yet, so it hadn't came up, but he was aching to touch you. Given the fact that he'd be the only man to ever have his hands on you, it made his head spin—but the effect you had on him was dizzying nonetheless.

He often thought about using his mouth to spread you open, how you would taste writhing under his touch. He'd day dream about giving you your first orgasm, what you'd look like coming undone under the mercy of his tongue. He'd fuck his fist to the thought of you naked and ready for him, his cock throbbing at the image of him slipping into you, going as slow as possible as he gently eased into you. He'd lost count at how many times he'd had an orgasm thinking about giving you pleasure for the first time.

Aaron had decided he'd try to initiate things when he came home. He was still away on a case for now, missing you terribly. He'd just gotten back to his hotel for the night when he decided it wasn't too late to call you, sitting down on the edge of his bed with a heavy sigh as the phone rang in his ear.

"Hi baby," you greeted him, thrilled to hear his voice. You'd been thinking of him nonstop, and you were happy he'd called, even if it was only for a few minutes before bed.

"Hi, sweetheart. I hope it isn't too late, I just couldn't stop thinking about you," he admitted, the heat rising to his cheeks when he realized how bad he had it for you—he was absolutely smitten, as in love as he could possibly get with no chance of slowing down any time soon.

"You can call me whenever you want, you know that," you assured him, just thankful to hear his voice. You worried more than usual when he was away, often afraid of what might happen to him, and not being able to stop it.

"Tell me about your day, don't leave anything out," he asked, and he listened happily as you told him about the mundane parts of your day and how work had been. Your evening had been more than uneventful as you'd spent most of it on the couch, glass of wine in tow, thinking about the man that you loved. You'd been ready to give your body to him for longer than you wanted to admit, but he'd been waiting patiently for what he thought was the right time. You told him you were ready whenever he was, and until he decided it was perfect, you'd be happy to wait.

Aaron was having a hard time holding back with you. Every time you were in his bed, he wanted to give himself to you in as many possible ways as he could. He'd already decided when it happened, it would be all about you—he'd spend the entire evening making sure you knew what real pleasure was before he ever did anything selfishly. Getting the privilege of touching you was a reward enough in his eyes; if he had anything to say about it, he'd be the only person to touch you in your life—he wanted forever with you.

"Any chance I'll get to sleep next to you soon?" You asked him, holding your breath for the answer; you knew sometimes it took a while to finish up on cases, and you didn't expect this to be any different.

"I hope we can wrap things up in the next day or so. Having you in my bed has been on my mind heavily," he chuckled, and you quickly started to piece together that his words had more than one meaning.

"You can have me whenever you want," you breathed, anxious to hear what he had to say back. Sometimes Aaron didn't pick up on your flirtiness, or if he did, he wasn't sure what to do about it. That wasn't the case this time—he had heard you loud and clear.

"I've got plans involving you and my bed when I get home. But I'm taking you out first, spoiling you as much as I can," his voice had gotten dangerously low, causing a shiver down your spine at the implication that it would be happening, and sooner than you thought.

"Oh? Sounds like I need to buy something to wear," you'd use any excuse to find something to look good for him in, and you'd spied a red dress at a boutique earlier in the week that was dying to be worn, and now you had the perfect reason to buy it.

"Something that's relatively easy to take off, I hope," he joked, but it caused the heat to pool between your thighs at the thought of him undressing you.

"I'm sure you know your way around a zipper," you chirped back, and he laughed, making you smile wide. It was one of your favorite sounds, and he seemed to be doing it more often with you around.

"I'll manage regardless. You know, I don't think you understand how special it is to me that you're letting me be your first," it was more than special to him—it was something sacred that he'd cherish forever. He thought you were the most incredible person he'd ever met—he hadn't been expecting you, but he'd fallen for you so quickly that anything before you seemed irrelevant. You'd been so accepting of him and Jack, loving the two of them unconditionally and becoming someone Jack could depend on as well. Jack had spent plenty of nights at your apartment while Aaron was away on a case, spending time with you, bonding. The two of you were close, and Aaron loved that. It filled him with so much adoration for you that sometimes he wondered how he ever lived so long without you.

"You know, it would make me really happy if you were the only person to ever touch me," you told him, met with a harsh gulp on the other end of the line. Aaron opened his mouth, but nothing would come out—he was stunned into silence, but his mind was running rampant. You wanted him forever, and that was hard for him to process at first. He'd never expected you to say it, although he'd known for a while now that you were what he wanted too. You were the perfect match for him, and he'd do anything in his power to keep you around for as long as possible.

"Do you mean that?" He didn't mean to doubt you—more than anything, he just needed the reassurance of your love, in whatever form you could give it to him.

"Of course I do. Honestly, Aaron... It's all I think about," you felt a bit bashful admitting it, but given your inexperience, when Aaron agreed to be your first, the thoughts of what exactly that entailed invaded your mind and wouldn't get out. In the shower, on the way to work—but especially now, when you were alone in bed late at night. Sometimes you'd think about touching yourself, but you weren't sure what would feel good, and you knew waiting on Aaron would be worth it in the long run.

"Oh, sweetheart... I've imagined it so many times, all of the ways I'm going to make you feel so good," he purred, and you found yourself nearly whimpering at his words, melting at his deep, silky voice and his promise to give you what you'd been craving for so long.

"Me too. I can't wait to feel your hands, what they feel like on my body. I can't wait to make you feel good too—I really want to touch you, Aaron," you were a soaked mess, and hearing him groan on the other end of the line wasn't helping any.

"Sweet girl, don't worry about me. All I want you to concern your pretty little head with is enjoying yourself. You've gone so long untouched...I can't wait for you to know what it feels like, to see what you look like when you have your first orgasm," you released a breath you didn't even know you'd been holding, more than curious as to what it would feel like. You had no doubt he'd be loving, careful with you, and you were excited to learn all of the ways you could touch him too. You'd done some research, so you weren't completely naive, and you were hoping he'd give you the chance to show him what you learned.

"Come home to me soon, please. I don't know if I can go much longer without you," you whined, knowing he couldn't help it, but you wanted him back so terribly, you were willing to go to Ohio to solve the case on your own if it meant bringing him back sooner.

"I know, sweetheart. Going to pick you up as soon as I get back, keep you at my place for as long as I can. I can't wait to kiss you...all over, every inch of you," he told you, making your toes curl up in anticipation at what was to come—you could hardly contain yourself.

"Wish you could feel me right now; my panties are ruined," Aaron's cock throbbed against the hem of his slacks, precum no doubt staining his boxers as he palmed himself without abandon, licking his lips at the thought of dragging his tongue through your center, watching your eyes roll back as he fucked you with his tongue.

"I'm dying to taste you, baby. Going to spend half of the night between your legs; I can't wait to learn your body," you could hear the desperation laced in his words, and you knew he was probably aching to be touched just as badly as you were.

"Been dreaming about tasting you too, Aaron. I want to try everything with you," Aaron was coming unraveled at your words, nearly ready to cum in his pants at the idea of your lips wrapped around his cock. He let his eyes close and pictured you on your knees, his cock in your hand as you looked to him to teach you what to do. He couldn't wait to show you, to guide you through everything for the first time. Your lack of experience was something that Aaron found himself pondering on often. You were gorgeous—plenty of people saw that. People should've been lining up to want their shot at you, and you hadn't hesitated to tell him you'd been asked out a lot, but no one had caught your interest like he did.

He felt like the most special man in the world.

Every time he kissed you, he wondered how he got so lucky. You were a godsend, and he was going to keep you in his life permanently, if you'd let him. He was addicted to you—he had to be careful at work or his thoughts would run wild, trained on you and the things you made him feel. He hadn't loved anyone in a long time, and he certainly hadn't expected it to come so easily. The words had rolled off his tongue the first time, and after a sweet but greedy kiss, you were telling him that you loved him too, and he could breathe a sigh of relief that you wanted to be kept by him.

"I'll teach you whatever you want to learn, sweetheart. I love you so much, all I want is for you to be happy."

He smiled when he heard your cute little breathless laugh on the other end, and he could practically hear the smile on your face as you spoke. These little things you did without even realizing it were Aaron's green light to fall head over heels for you, because it was obvious you were doing the same.

"I love you, Aaron. I've never been so happy in my life," you promised him, yawning into the receiver as you came to lay on the pillows, putting your phone on speaker.

"Sweet girl, get some sleep. I'll text you in the morning, I'm going to try my best to make it home to you soon," he wouldn't rest until they'd put this case behind them and he was on the jet coming back to you.

"I know you will. Sweet dreams, Aaron. I love you," he was quick to tell you back, hanging up the phone and laying back on his bed for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. He knew he'd have to go slow when he finally had you, or else he'd get ahead of himself. He was already going mad at the mere thought, what your soft, delicate body would feel like, the sweet taste of your arousal as he finally had the privilege of tasting you. The thoughts were overwhelming until Derek knocked on his door to tell him there was a break in the case and that they were needed with the Local PD.

✨✨✨

When morning came, your first order of business was to find something that would drive Aaron wild. You got dressed and drove straight to the boutique where you'd seen the red dress, not thinking twice when you swiped your card. You did a little more shopping, deciding on a lacy white bra and panty set that you knew would get him going, and by the time you stopped for coffee, he was calling.

"Hi baby," he nearly melted at your words every time you spoke, that was nothing new for him. He loved your voice, to listen to you talk about any and everything that was on your mind.

"Hi sweetheart. I'll be home in a couple of hours. If you want to be ready, I'll pick you up and we'll go out to dinner," Aaron had already picked the place—it was one of the nicest spots in town, and he knew you would love it. Afterwards, he planned to bring you home, make you as comfortable as possible before the rest of your evening began. He knew you'd been waiting far too long, and he himself had been bouncing off the rafters waiting for the night to come. In just a few short hours, he'd finally have you.

"I'll be ready. I can't wait to see you," you told him, but Aaron was equally excited to see you. If he could will the jet to go faster, he would—a 3 and a half hour flight seemed like forever when he knew you were waiting for him.

"I'm so excited, sweetheart. Remember, all about you tonight. I hope you're ready," you could hear the want in his voice, his eagerness to have your body, it made you feel like one of the most coveted women alive.

"More than ready," you assured him, wishing him a safe flight as he got ready to take off, leaving you to get ready, making sure every aspect of your hair and outfit was perfect by the time Aaron arrived.

You'd checked your appearance nearly a dozen times in the mirror when he knocked on the door, giving you no more time to second guess yourself. You felt silly for ever doubting yourself when you opened the door and saw Aaron's reaction to your outfit. The collar of his black dress shirt grew tight as he reached for your waist to pull you in closer, his lips brushing your jaw before he came in for a kiss.

"Sweetheart, I don't know what to say. I've never seen anything quite like you before," he whispered against your lips, his hand coming to cup your face as he let his eyes trail over your body once more. The truth was, you'd stunned him into silence—no one had ever went out of their way to want to look good for him, and it only solidified his thoughts that you were meant for him completely.

"You look so good, Aaron," you told him before kissing him again, your fingers on his collar, tugging him closer. He let his arms wrap around you, forgetting where you were momentarily as his tongue slipped into your mouth. You whimpered softly, which only made Aaron come closer, his hands roaming your body openly, hidden only by the darkness surrounding the two of you. It took everything in him to pull away from you, wanting to march you inside and undress you before you'd even eaten. With one last kiss, he led you to the car, moving the center console up so you could sit next to him in the middle. His hand found yours, holding it tightly as he navigated you through the city.

Aaron had chosen a ridiculously fancy restaurant, the two of you skipping wine and opting for water. You wanted a clear head and assumed he felt the same. His eyes never left you once, only briefly while he ordered his food. His hand reached for yours across the table and you took it happily, smiling back at him over the table. He was breathtaking in all black, your mind honed in on the idea of stripping him down, kissing every inch of his sexy broad chest and his long arms. You knew by the gleam in his eye that his thoughts were similar, and even though the conversation was light throughout dinner, the sexual tension was heavy and thick enough to slice with a butter knife.

Aaron couldn't stop thinking about how good you looked. He knew from the men who were shamelessly throwing glances in your direction that he was a lucky man, and he'd never do anything to jeopardize his relationship with you. He'd decided early on that he'd do anything he could to keep you, wanting you around more every time he saw you. That still hadn't changed—he craved your presence, uneasy if he wasn't around you.

By the time you left the restaurant, Aaron's palms were sweaty and his mouth was dry. The closer he got to his house, the harder it became to pay attention to the road and not to you—your hand was on his thigh, absentmindedly brushing against him, and it was making it difficult for him to concentrate. His free hand moved to your bare thigh, feeling your satiny smooth skin; he sighed to himself, wondering if you were this soft everywhere. He had no doubt that you were, and it was all for him.

Once you were finally at his house, he led you inside, opting to bring you straight to the bedroom. He closed the door gently behind him, watching you closely as you sat on the edge of the bed. He came to stand in front of you, silently reaching for your foot so he could remove your heels. He let them fall to the floor, his eyes traveling up your legs until he was looking into your eyes.

Aaron was feeling an abundance of emotions all at once. He was overcome with so much love for you that he wasn't sure what to do with himself. He was only a little nervous, but mostly because he was afraid you wouldn't enjoy yourself—he tried not to let the doubt creep into his mind and ruin the evening though. You were both consenting adults, and you wanted this just as badly as him—he knew that for a fact. He was especially eager—he had been since your phone conversation the night before, thinking about it long after you'd hung up for the night.

"You're so gorgeous, sweetheart. I can't keep my eyes off of you," he leaned forward to kiss you, holding your face firmly in his hands as your tongues tangled together; you were squirming in your seat at the thought of him using his mouth on you, buzzing internally at the fact that he wanted to taste you so badly. No one had ever wanted you like Aaron did; he'd went out of his way to show you from the very first day. Aaron was the type to shower you with compliments, to make you feel good about yourself in every aspect as if he'd spoken it into existence. You believed every word that came out of his mouth, trusted him beyond a shadow of a doubt, which was why you'd taken the chance on him in the first place. Unlike with other men, you didn't hesitate to give Aaron your phone number, and you actively kept in contact with him even before you were dating; he'd call you in the morning and before bed, just to let you know he was thinking about you. Becoming his girlfriend had been the easiest decision you'd ever made, and you were proud to be his.

"It's all for you," you told him, watching his cheeks redden as he grew bashful—it was always a sight to see; he often didn't realize how incredible he truly was, and you were quick to remind him. You loved getting dressed up for him, making a spectacle out of belonging to him. You knew he appreciated the effort, though you were glad to do it for him. He deserved someone who would go to any length for him, and you planned to be that person.

Aaron wanted you to be comfortable first. When he joined you on the bed, his hands came to your thighs, his fingers massaging your bare skin just below your dress. He began kissing you, first your shoulder, working his way to your neck; his nose brushed along your jaw as he came to your mouth, kissing you slowly, delicately. It was sweet, your strong, stern man taking things at a new speed, you knew it was taking all of his restraint not to undress you.

You found your way into his lap, arms snaked around his neck as the two of you made out like mad, his hands on your waist. He kissed you for a while longer before he pulled away, toying with the straps of your dress.

"Can I see you, pretty girl?"

You gave him a nod and decided you'd stand up and do the honors, letting him unzip your dress so it could fall to the floor. Aaron saw what you were wearing and found himself struggling to think straight. He wondered if you'd worn white just for him, something about the lacy set made it even better for him, because he knew you'd never worn anything like that for anyone else before. He didn't try to hide the effect you had on him, his cock throbbing wildly in his slacks as he looked at you.

"You're divine, baby. So fucking pretty," he groaned as you laid next to him on the bed, propped up on your side so you could see him.

"You like it? I bought it just for you," you said, earning a nod in response as he came forward to pepper your chest with warm, open mouthed kisses. It covered you in goosebumps, the sensation of his lips on your flushed skin.

"I love it, I think you look perfect, sweetheart." Aaron's mind was reeling now that he was touching you, his hands a bit shaky but overall, he felt nothing but love. He tentatively reached behind you to feel for the clasp to your bra, and after looking to you to make sure it was okay, he was undoing it and letting your bra join your dress in the floor. Aaron's mouth immediately latched on to one of your nipples, his free hand rolling the other between his fingers. You moaned, pushing your chest forward for him. He sucker your nipples until they were puffy and stiff, stopping long enough to pull back at look at you.

"Lay down for me," he instructed, putting a pile of pillows behind your head. You watched with wide eyes as he unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it aside before tugging his T-shirt over his head. Your hand made its way to his chest, feeling the sexy, scarred flesh as he turned towards you, his fingertips trailing up your thigh. He was nearly at your panty line, taking a deep breath as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties.

"Can I take these off?"

You nodded, letting him undress you completely, trying not to be self conscious about being naked around him. Aaron couldn't believe his eyes; he'd never seen a human being so perfect in his life, and he planned to make sure you knew exactly how amazing he thought you were. He couldn't stop staring, his mouth slightly agape as he blinked at you, making sure you wouldn't disappear once he closed his eyes.

"Perfect, every bit of you," he breathed, ducking down to kiss your thighs. Aaron was certain he'd never want another human being again, not as long as you were alive. Every inch of you was spectacular to him, so much so that he was dizzy with lust—he found his gaze lingering on your core, glistening for him, just waiting for his touch. He sucked marks onto your skin, making you wiggle against the bed, letting out a breathless moan as he began to move upward towards your center.

Secretly, Aaron couldn't wait to corrupt you. Teaching you to touch him, and yourself eventually, sparking your curiosity for new things you could try together. He knew you'd get the hang of things easily, but that would come later. For now, he was focused on spreading your legs, getting you to open up for him.

"Relax, baby. I've got you, okay? If you need me to stop for anything, just tell me. I want to make sure there's nothing but pleasure for you," he lowered himself between your legs, the intoxicating smell of your arousal invading his nostrils and temporarily shutting down his senses. He let out a deep breath as he looked to you, laid out on the pillows, watching his every move. He was close enough to see your clit throbbing, your pussy clenching around nothing as he came closer. The heat of his mouth was enough to have you whimpering, your brain going white hot as his tongue dove eagerly into your center.

You hadn't expected it to feel so good. You had no doubt it would be amazing, but you'd vastly underestimated how much. You were a moaning mess, a few swipes of his tongue away from your first orgasm. Aaron knew you were close, and he was watching you carefully. He couldn't wait to see your face as you came, and then he had every intention of doing it again.

Your voice got caught in your throat, your legs shook even under the weight of Aaron's arms on top of them. The euphoria was overpowering, enough to leave you breathing heavily. You looked back at him, a satisfied smirk on his face; he'd stopped long enough to let you work through your orgasm and then he was back at it, lapping eagerly at your drenched pussy. He moaned into you, gripping your thighs possessively as his tongue swirled around inside of you, bringing you over the edge even quicker than the first time. This time, Aaron didn't stop to let you recover, he was sucking furiously at your clit as you rode out your high—you barely had time to bounce back before you were shaking again, a hum of satisfaction leaving Aaron's lips.

"You taste so good, baby. My sweet, innocent girl is making a mess all over my tongue," that was the last you heard from him for nearly half an hour— he stayed between your legs, giving you more than a handful of orgasms, clearly having the time of his life, so you didn't want to stop him. It felt too good, heavenly—he knew exactly what he was doing.

Aaron was so lost in the moment, starstruck every time he was able to make you cum. He was absolutely enthralled by you, obsessed with the way you tasted, wanting to stay between your legs for as long as he could. Your body shook as you came, and Aaron sighed to himself, so happy with the way things had been going so far.

"You're doing so good, sweetheart. I'm going to use my fingers too, is that okay?"

You nodded back at him, propping up on your elbows so you could watch. He was mesmerizing, and you couldn't peel your eyes away from him. His long, thick fingers teased your entrance, coating his digits with your arousal before he slowly slipped a finger inside of you. As soon as you got used to it, you wanted more, thrusting your hips upward as your orgasm rocked your body.

"More, Aaron, please," you panted, his eyebrow raised as he looked up at you.

"You're sure, baby? Tell me if it's too much," he carefully added another finger, staying perfectly still until your body was adjusted; once he realized you were okay, he began to pump in and out of you, his fingers hitting your sweet spot, driving you absolutely wild. Your chest heaved as he sped up slightly, his eyes trained on you to make sure it wasn't too much, that you were alright.

Aaron was still partially in disbelief that he was actually touching you—he'd almost came in his pants twice while going down on you, simply because you'd  it so much. Aaron had planned to spend all night  giving you the love you deserved, as long as you were okay with it. Now that he'd had a taste of you, he couldn't get enough.

"I want you, Aaron," you said finally, tired of waiting; you needed to feel him, experience what it was like to be touched by someone who loved you endlessly. Aaron gave you a nod, sitting up so he could finish undressing. Once he was completely naked, you wondered how he'd possibly fit inside of you—you hadn't expected him to be so big, but given his attitude, you weren't at all surprised.

"I'll go slow, be as gentle as I can. We can stop any time you need to," he reminded you, lining up with you as he took a deep breath. You tried to relax your body as best as you could, mentally preparing yourself to take him—you'd been slightly intimidated for a moment, but you knew he would take care of you, so that eased your worries tremendously. After what seemed like an eternity, he was cautiously pressing into you, easing into you inch by inch. There was a lot of pressure at first, but there was a lot of him to get used to. He stayed completely still, letting you take as much time as you needed; Aaron knew he wouldn't last long, not with the way you were squeezing him so tight.

Aaron let out a breath, looking at your body laid out just for him—he'd never felt so loved, never experienced anything like the sensation he was overcame with now. He saw his life with you, laid out like he was viewing a scrapbook. He saw a ring on your finger, and a house full of brown eyed children with your sweet smile. Aaron knew his future was with you, and you confirmed it every time you whimpered his name. It was melodious to him; he couldn't get enough of it, of you.

"You can keep going," you told him finally, and Aaron bit his lip harshly, nodding as he began to move. A soft smile rested on your face as his hips rolled into you, steady and precise. It wasn't long before he was leaning down, kissing you with every bit of love he had to give. He stayed close, propped up on his elbows as he took his time with you; you'd never seen a more patient, caring man, someone who would go out of their way to be so loving with you—you hoped he was around to stay. You wanted a life with him, to grow with him.

"How do you feel? Can you handle more?" He was hesitant to speed things up without your permission, but you nodded, kissing the corner of his mouth, bringing your hands to the back of his head to keep him near you.

“Feels so good. You can go faster,” you said, hushed and low, making Aaron kiss you hard on the mouth. You were doing so good, he was so happy things were going well; he’d been nervous that something would go wrong, but it had all been in his head. Now that you were here, everything was perfect.

He started to move faster, making him grit his teeth together as he buried himself deeper inside of you. You were experiencing something foreign—it was like love, but stronger. You’d never felt so connected to anyone, like your entire life had been leading up to Aaron and the happiness he could bring to you.

You were getting close, Aaron could tell by the way your breathing had changed; he took that as a signal that he could go a bit faster, and he was rewarded by you gripping the sheets, letting your eyes flutter shut as the buzz of pleasure took you over. Aaron was in love with the faces you made, how you looked so good when you came—he could hardly control his own orgasm, so he wasn’t surprised at all when he poured into you, groaning your name as his mouth connected with yours once more. His hand brushed your hair out of your face, his forehead pressed against yours as he eased out of you, his arms holding the majority of his weight as he positioned his body to cradle yours. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him.

“Tell me what you’re feeling. Are you okay?” You could hear the concern in his voice, but it nearly melted away when you leaned up to kiss him, your hands on his face. You couldn’t wipe the smile from your lips, your body buzzing with excitement, your adrenaline pumping.

“I feel great, Aaron. That was perfect—you’re perfect,” he blushed at your words, nuzzling closer to you than before; he was so warm, it was making your eyes heavy before you realized it.

“You’re the perfect one, sweetheart. This has been the best night of my life, I couldn’t ask for anything better,” he sighed, his eyes closing as he settled in on the pillow, kissing your forehead lightly as his breathing began to steady.

“I love you, Aaron. Thank you.”

He let out a breathless little laugh, snuggling closer to you than before, his body going still within seconds.

“I love you. You don’t ever have to thank me; I’m yours whenever you want.”

You were completely content. Aaron had made the night a memorable one, but you knew this was just the beginning. There was so much more in store for the two of you—and you couldn’t wait. 

Master tags: @wheelsupkels @periodtcevans @hausofwhores @criminallyobsessedcm @tojithesourcerkiller @fireworksinthesky

[shitaholicshits]

Does anyone feels this sense of guilt not being able to do anything to help people literally being murdered in a genocide? Especially when we are here sitting in our homes with all the privilege we have. I feel like crying everyday seeing children dying, people losing their whole families. A father lost the only kid he had after 20 years of trying. Another one was looking for his kid's body parts and carrying it in a trash bag. Entire lineages of certain families are completely wiped. My screen time for Instagram has increased from an average of 1 hour everyday to 4 hours, because only certain pages on social media are showing the ground reality. News channels just refuse to show anything about it. They are calling Palestinians the terrorists. I have even heard people saying, "well they deserve it for supporting Hamas". Really? Really? Do you even have an ounce of humanity left in you? And who funded Hamas? Please tell me. I'm angry, but grieving the loss of so many innocents at the same time. My day starts with interacting with as many posts as I can related to Palestine because Instagram is shadow banning the influencers who are using their platform to show this. They are hiding these posts. They won't let us see the reality. I am trying to beat the algorithm by going to these pages, interacting with the posts as much as I can. A Palestinian reporter recently lost his whole family while he's been on ground reporting since this started. And Israel has the audacity to play the victim. I am seeing headless bodies of babies. How can you sleep after seeing all of this? How can you be okay with this? How do you people not see it. It's not a Muslim vs Jew situation. Its Palestinians vs Israelis. It's the oppressed vs the oppressors. It just feels so heavy on my heart that I can't do anything but talk about it on social media, and pray for them. I pray for them every single day. I end up crying while praying for them. It honestly hurts so much. When will this end?

[little-corritrice]

Lando Norris ~ I wouldn't do that

[This is something new I'm trying out with the F1 driver imagines. I'm going to try and do different types of au's, so here it is!]

Mafia AU ~ TW for violence, kidnapping, typical mafia stuff

[Long]

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They say being the girlfriend of the top most feared mafia lord was the worst thing that could happen to a girl, but hell, I'm living my best life as just that. See, I'm dating Lando Norris, the mafia lord of England. Being with the most feared man in the country had its perks. For example, I have great protection against the outside world, and he spoils me like a princess, even though I never really have used that to my advantage. It all happened when I worked in his bar and night after night of being his personal server, he finally had the guts to actually talk to me, and a year later, here we are.

Sitting at my desk, I lazily typed in data for the bar as I was given the privilege's of being able to say I owned it and run my very own business. I groaned out as it was nearly midnight, Lando not back from his meetings in Monaco with the other mafia lord, Charles Leclerc. I let my head hit the table, only lifting it up when I heard a knock on the door. My office door opened and in came Oscar, my personal bodyguard. "Hey, Ossie." I smiled, letting my head fall back down. "Why are you still up?" I asked, and he chuckled. "I think I'm supposed to be asking you that." He said, and I chuckled.

I sat up in my chair, leaning back as I slightly rocked it back and forth. "Just waiting for Lan to hurry the fuck up." I said and he nodded. "I'm up because my boss gave me a job." He chuckled, making me laugh. "It's like midnight. Just go take the day off." I said, but he shook his head. "No can do. Bosses' orders." He said, and I groaned. "Oscar, I love you; I really do, but if you make me fight you over this, I'm going to kick your ass." I said, and he laughed at my empty threat. "I'm going to get my ass kicked if I don't do my job." He retorted back. I smiled, standing up as I shut everything down.

I walked over to him, resting my hand on his arm. "You can at least go change out of this uncomfortable suit. I know they are a pain." I said, and he shook his head. "I don't know, I kind of like it. Makes me look spiffy." He said, and I laughed as I walked out of my office, heading downstairs. "Whatever you say, Ossie." I said, about to reach the end of the stairs, but there was a blast from the front door, making me fall down as Oscar grabbed me. He pulled me back against the wall, his hand over my mouth as he looked around the corner. "Shit." He whispered, slowly moving his hand.

He reached for his gun, glancing at me. I had training in self defense and fighting, as well as guns, but throwing knives were my specialty. "Go upstairs. Call Lando. Stay in your office until I come get you." He said, making me nod. I slowly got up, slipping my shoes off as I rushed up the stairs. I reached my office, quickly and quietly going inside. I locked the doors, running to my desk. I grabbed my phone off of it, dialing Lando. He answered immediately, sighing out. "y/n, I'm so sorry, baby. We're at the airport-" He started, but I shushed him. "Lando, they're here. There was like 20 of them, and Oscar's down there by himself." I cried out, breathing quickly as I was panicking.

Lando immediately dropped everything he was doing and got into his car. "I'll be right there, baby. Where are you at?" He asked, and I let out a quiet cry as I heard gunshots going off now. "My office. Please hurry Lando. Oscar, he's-" I cried, but was cut short as there was a bang on my door. "They're up here with me." I whispered, ducking down as I grabbed my knives. "Baby, it's okay. Remember our training?" He asked, and I hummed out. "Just like training, baby. Don't be scared. I'm almost home." He said, and I let out a soft gasp as the door broke open. "They're in the room." I whispered, setting my phone down as I heard their footsteps.

By the sounds of it, there was only 2 guys in here. "Okay. Stay down until they get close enough." He said, and I nodded, even though he couldn't see it. "Come on out, y/n! We know you're in here." One guy called, and I held my breath. "You wouldn't want your little friend to get hurt any more." Another said and I became wide-eyed as I thought about Oscar getting hurt. As soon as they got close, I quickly stood up, sending my daggers flying into their necks, blood gushing out as they fell down. I didn't have time to react as I was grabbed by the neck by a third guy, and I let out a cry as he stabbed my side with a knife.

I choked out as he held me in the air by my throat. I tried scratching his face, kicking him, trying to escape, but he just twisted the knife, making me scream out in pain. "Let's get going, pretty lady." He said, dropping me down as he pulled the knife out. "Lando!" I screamed as he dragged me out and all the way down the stairs. I saw Oscar laying on the floor with some guys around him. "Oscar!" I exclaimed, getting free of the guys grasp and running to him. The other guys didn't grab me, just smirking down at me. "Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head. He's coming too." The guy said before he hit me over the head, successfully knocking me out as I fell onto Oscar.

~ ~ ~

Lando jumped out of the car before it even parked, running towards the house. He saw the door wide open, his fear worsening as he saw a puddle of blood. He walked over to it, seeing a note. 'She's a pretty one. Let's hope you find her before it's too late.' It said and he threw it down as he ran upstairs to her office, running in as he looked around. He couldn't find anything, quickly bringing his phone out. "Charles, god they took y/n. I-I-" He couldn't finish, anger and fear washing over him. "Hey, it'll be okay. We'll be there in 10." Charles said before he hung up. Lando walked to your desk, grabbing the photo of him, Oscar and you at the fairgrounds.

He let out a frustrated cry as he set it down, walking back downstairs. "Anything?" He asked his men that were on their laptops. "We got her necklace, but it looks like they threw it off as it's stationary." One said, and Lando grunted. He thought to himself before he looked up. "Her ring. Track her ring." He said, and they immediately got to work. Screeching tires were heard as Lando walked to the front door. Charles, Max and Daniel all came to him. They stood by for the next 5 minutes until one of Lando's guys shouted out. "Got her! 5 miles southeast at the hillside house." He yelled and everyone ran out, all speeding off to get y/n and Oscar back home.

~ ~ ~

I groaned lightly as I woke up, coughing slightly. "y/n!" Someone called, though it was muffled. I looked up, seeing Oscar tied from his wrist as he hung from the ceiling with tape over his mouth. There were two guys standing by him, holding a knife and taser. "Oscar?!" I cried out, tears coming to my eyes. The men ripped the tape off his mouth, earning a grunt from him. "It's okay, it's okay, y/n." He reassured, his eyes soft as he looked at me. The men soon tortured him, his cries of pain making me sob out. "Stop it! Stop it please!" I cried, struggling in my bindings. They smirked as they continued on, Oscar's cries of agony being drowned out by my screams.

After 30 minutes of torture, they cut his bindings, letting him drop to the floor. They came over to me, cutting me free as I lunged towards Oscar. "O-Oscar?" I cried out shakily, my hand resting on his cheek. "y/n..." He whispered out, making me smile as I pulled him closer to me. "It's okay. You're going to be okay. I promise." I sniffled, stroking his cheeks as he smiled softly. He soon groaned in pain, coughing slightly. "Hey, hey. Stay with me. They'll be here any minute." I whispered, my tears falling on his cheeks. "How?" He breathed out, and I smiled. "You didn't think this was just for show, did you?" I cry-laughed, holding up the back of my hand that had my ring on it.

~ ~ ~

15 minutes had soon passed, and Oscar was growing tired by the second. He groaned once again as he shuffled. "I'm so sorry, Oscar." I whispered, resting my forehead on his as he held my hand that was pressing down on his open wound. "No, I-I'm sorry...I should have...protected you." He whispered in pain, and I let my tears flow freely once again. "But you did. You saved me from the blast, and kept me safe until the very end." I sniffled, shaking my head softly. "But I need you to fight right now. Don't let me lose you." I said, and he chuckled dryly. "Lose...me? Please. You...won't...ever be...getting rid of me...that easily." He joked, making me let out a crying laugh.

I was about to talk, but the door burst open, the same guy from my office grabbing me harshly. "Wait! Let me go!" I yelled, fighting against him. "Let her go!" Oscar yelled, but the guy scoffed. He put me in a headlock, holding a gun at Oscar. "Don't make me pull this trigger." He whispered in my ear. I whimpered out as I froze, not risking Oscar's life like that. He put the gun to my head, smirking as Lando, Max, Charles and Daniel came running in. I stared at them as I let out a grunt as he tugged my hair hard. I looked down to Oscar, seeing his eyes loosing focus as he was breathing heavily. I looked back to Lando, tears coming to my eyes as I held the guys arm.

Lando stepped forward, but the guy cocked the gun, holding it harder against my head. He stopped immediately, taking in a breath as he glared at the guy. They started talking, but I wasn't paying attention to them as I looked down at Oscar. He was slowly moving, reaching up towards the guy's waistband. I cried out as he dug the gun into my side now, blood staining my shirt as it dripped down. I felt the guy lean into me more, bending me forward slightly. I gasped out as I felt him starting to kiss my shoulder and neck. I struggled in his grip, screaming out as he started biting my neck.

Lando charged forward, tackling the guy as he dropped the gun. I fell to my knees, grabbing onto Oscar as he started closing his eyes. "Oscar?!" I called out, gently patting his cheek. "Lando!" I yelled, turning to him with teary eyes. He stood up, staring at the guy before he shot him dead. I looked up at him as he walked over, bending down as he put his fingers to Oscar's neck. "It's okay, baby. Daniel, Max!" He called, grabbing onto me as Max and Daniel grabbed Oscar and we ran out. I started sobbing in his grip as I was gasping for air, shaking as Lando and me got in a separate car.

Lando held my cheeks as he gently stroked them with his thumb. I was still sobbing, clutching my chest as it was really hard to breath. "Baby, look at me. Just breathe, in and out. Please." He pleaded, prompting me to try, but to no avail as he shook his head. "He's okay, baby. Oscar is okay. You're okay." He pleaded, rubbing my back as he gave me kisses all around my face. Eventually, I started calming my breathing, but my sobs never really died down. "It's all over now." He whispered, pulling me against him as he kissed my head over and over, my cries quieting down to sniffles eventually. However, within a couple minutes, I lost consciousness from blood lost.

~ ~ ~

I gasped as I woke up, looking around me. I was in the infirmary room in the house, nobody in here with me. I got out of bed, slowly making my way upstairs. I heard some talking, but that wasn't my priority right now. I walked upstairs, going straight to his room. I walked in, seeing Oscar's back that was littered with scars. I teared up as he turned to me, buttoning up his shirt. His chest was also littered with cuts, and I let out a cry as I walked towards him. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I cried as I hugged him tightly. He sighed as he held me against him, shaking his head. "No, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" He asked, pushing me away as he scanned over my body.

I nodded at him, sniffling as I wiped my tears away. "Don't worry about me. Are you okay?" I asked, and he smiled. "I'm perfectly okay, y/n. No need to worry." He said, and I nodded. "Lando's downstairs with the boys. Let's go see them." He said, guiding me downstairs. I wiped my tears, but it was kind of useless. Oscar opened the door and all talking immediately seized. I recognized this as one of the mafia's meetings as there was a bunch of other guys I've seen plenty of times. I backed away a little, looking up at Lando as he looked mad. His facial expression softened as soon as he saw my tears.

Lando got up immediately, completely disregarding his previous conversation as he came over to me. He gently pulled me out, nodding at Oscar as he went inside the room. I sniffled as I looked up at Lando again, feeling extremely bad for interrupting. "I-I'm sorry-" I started, but Lando bent down, gently kissing my lips to shut me up. "Shh, it's okay, baby. You don't ever have to apologize." He said, picking me up as he took us to our room. "How about we stay in bed all day? Would you like that?" He asked, handing me one of his shirts as I changed. "If you're not too busy-" I started but he once again cut me off. "I am never too busy for you, darling. Now just lay down." He smiled.

I nodded, getting under the covers as he got in bed shortly after. I clung onto him for dear life, staring at the door as if someone were going to walk in any second and take Lando away from me. "You're okay...Everyone is okay." Lando whispered out, kissing my head gently. "I-I-" I hiccupped, tears falling from my cheeks as Lando sat us up carefully. "No, no, no. What's going on, baby?" He asked softly, rubbing my tears away but it was pointless. "I-I...I couldn't save him...and-and-" I sobbed, but he shushed me quickly, pulling me against him. "No, no. You did save him though. He's alive and well." Lando cooed, stroking my hair. I nodded as I continued sobbing, just holding Lando close to me.

~ ~ ~

Waking up in a jolt, I took in a deep breath of air as I looked around at my surroundings. I felt around and felt Lando wasn't by my side. I looked on his nightstand to see a note. 'Sorry to leave suddenly, princess. Have some things that need to be done. Oscar is in his room.' It read with a heart at the bottom. I quickly got up, speed walking to Oscar's room as I knocked on his door. Within a second it opened, Oscar's sleepy form coming in view. "Sorry, I-" I started, but he shushed me, gently leading me in and to the bed. He laid me down, tucking me in as he came around and got under the covers as well. "Sleep, y/n. You need it right now." He said, moving his arm so I could cuddle up with him. I scooched in, snuggling close as he kissed my head. Within the next couple of minutes, I'd drifted off to sleep again.

[ashleyslothlife]

Is anyone interested in a what it was like it was like to be disabled in US public schools before the ADA for this disability pride month? Ground rule: If you are the type of person to call parent of disabled children heroes and saints this post isn't for you.

We'll start in the 80's I'll start with my brother because it ties into my story later. My brother had Cerebral Palsy, scoliosis, a seizure disorder that could be heat induced, and high enough support needs that I've yet to meet a disability advocate that agrees that it was reasonable to require him to go to school.

In Houston, Tx disabled students were segregated in a separate school from the abled students. That school regularly had the air conditioners go out, because they had been put in used in the first place. So first danger for my brother. Every wheelchair user is different, for my brother it was bad for him to be left in his chair for the whole school day, he needed to be allowed on the floor. His "teacher" would refuse to help him out of his chair, because then she'd have to pay attention to him instead of just sitting at her desk reading a book. So my father filed several complains because we could tell from my brother's behavior he was in pain from being in his chair all day. Finally another teacher starts letting him out of his chair at the start of the day.

My mom gets a terrifying call from the front office that the teacher "can't find her son." So my mother makes a terrified drive trying to figure what could have happened. She stops in the parking lot when she sees my brother is just sitting in front of the large glass windows enjoying the sun, we teased him about being cat. The teacher didn't even bother to look, she just noticed he was gone and called the front office, the front office didn't bother to look they just called my mother. My mother was so upset she just took him home. To add even more rage to this, my brother had vocal stims they could have heard him from the front office from his location. He would vocally stim while in the sun. My parents stop sending him to school, my parents get harassed by the school system, cops are sent for truancy, while my parents wrangle paperwork they are forced to send him back till they could get him dismissed from the system. You'll never guess what happens next, I've been called a liar so much.

My mother gets another call that they can't find her son, my mother once again terrified goes to get him, and is relieved to find him in the same location. My mom yells out "found him" and takes him home.

After much uphill fighting they finally get him out, and every second sick day I have a truant office shows up to harass my parents. White privileged played a big part in them being able to. I graduated high school with a Black girl who had similar disabilities to my brother, her parents tried to pull her out, they put her mother in jail for 2 days. To me: I've been hard of hearing from the jump it seems. I got tested before Kindergarten when to school with a note from an audiologist saying I'm hard of hearing, which every teacher except one ignored. I wasn't considered disabled so I didn't go to the school my brother was at. When I'm nine in 89, I am a medical adventure chicken pox took a field trip to my brain, caused encephalitis, caused seizures, EMTs gave me a drug that should never be given to children, I spend 3 days in a coma. When I'm cleared to go back to school my neurologist and his team write up the accommodations I require and send them to the school. The school principal and teachers a big mad over the use of the word require apparently. One of the requirements is to allow me to miss a call to go to the nurses station for a nap, because a brain healing from trauma needs a lot of sleep. He also stressed that socially I was within my age range but my memory had been effectively wiped so I might need some review with a tutor. They decided those requests were beyond the pale, and my parents received a letter from the city dismissing me from the public school system with a thinly veiled threat that if they fought this choice they would demand my brother's attendance as well. So they had to make a hard choice, fight for me and maybe endanger my brother, or put me in private school that didn't have any oversight. So I ended up in weird Christian private schools, I was a preachers kid so I knew about everything but only the weirdest Christians open affordable private schools. As much as I still feel upset about my education sometimes, I don't fault my parents at all for the choice they made. Even if I had been in a public school in a science class if that science teacher didn't speak up or put me in the back of the class I wouldn't have learned anything anyway.

[space-diablo]

Okay! I promised a new post about Flo after finishing MSQ =3333

It took me a long time but here we are.

Mostly all the same info from the old post but with some additions and updates.

The post is long so I put the main part under the read more this time =333

Full name: Florentijn De Wit.

Age at the begging: 30

Hight: 168 cm

Main: PLD/GNB/RPR

Also learning how to DNC and trying to hold a katana.

(DRK and WAR can but doesn't like)

Flo was born in Thanalan but both of his parents are not from there. Even a surname De Wit is not an real surname but a nickname given to his father long-long ago for being too pale for locals and adopted as a surname later. His father's roots are going to Lower La Noscea, but his mother origins are unknow - she never wanted to talk about it.

He prefers ppl to call him just Flo ‘cause it’s shorter and easier to pronounce.

Joke about him being not-really-smart is not fully a joke. He’s getting lost easily - no matter if it’s about navigation or information. Always confusing directions and unable to proceed big amount of information given at once. He’s slow. He needs time.

Both of Flo's parents are merchants and successful ones… but he himself has zero skills for that. He couldn’t understand even basic economics and always had problems with math, so his father said that if his son is not able to take over the family business then maybe at least he could be useful as a bodyguard for caravans. And then hired a fencing teacher. Teacher was a master of sword, good but yet merciless. The scar on the face Flo got from him at the age of 14.

At the age of 20 Flo decided that he’s done with that “bodyguard” job… and silently run away from home. He became an adventurer for very simple goal. To earn money… and that’s why he really doesn’t like to answer this question.

He has heterochromia and was kind of embarrassed 'cause of it, so he hid one eye in public under the eyepatch. Why the left one? He doesn’t remember it himself. After a long way (mostly I'm talking about Endwalker here) he managed to get rid of this complex and now shows both of his eyes without any shame.

Flo’s loves the sea with all his soul, and so his heart belongs to Limsa Lominsa, La Noscea in general and Maelstrom. But he's not ashamed that he chose GC for uniform colour. He LOVES red and with black especially.

He also loves cooking and making things buy himself - mostly different kind of toys. That makes ppl think that he loves children… BUT HE DOES NOT. But of course never shows it if he has to communicate with them. He has two younger sisters… much younger than him, so he already had enough of dealing with kids.

Actually, Florentijn is kind of misanthrope. Or at least he consider himself one... Or considered. Ppl failed him a lot in his early years (not to forget parents who treated him as anyone but their son) to make him dislike them in general and stay as far as he can (there's but a few exceptions)... But now (thanks to Lyse and Alisaie) he is learning how to trust in others anew and be more open. Starting with Scions. Only after Endwalker he started to see them as his friends (except Alisaie - she earned that privilege long before). True ones. That was a long way. Some wisdom comes only with gray hair... And Flo's hair almost all turned from blond to gray from ARR to EW... so it's time =DDD

(Good old times when he was just blondie👇)

He had a dream about a small house by the sea where he could live peacefully spending all the time for his hobbies. But with time he found out that he's not able to sit peacefully like that even a day. He's so used to be always on the run that forgot how to rest.

Flo is ace to the core. He doesn’t even understand dirty jokes. Seriously, don’t crack jokes about swords, he will think about real one not metaphorical. But not aro. Somehow he managed to fall in love and that was a surprise even for him 'cause he genuinely thought that he's...unable to feel something like this and more - so deep. He even almost ruined everything just because he was too focused on processing =DDD But now everything is more or less okay =DDD Lyse is his one and only Queen.

He didn't see his family more that ten years, feels no shame about it and doesn't miss them. Even sisters. Actually... he's still afraid to walk freely on markets in big cities 'cause of possibility to meet them. He doesn't want. And even a tiny thought that they know about his adventures as a WoL pushes him to a panic attack. Also that's why he loves to spend time in The First.

He considers Alisaie as his... something between little sister and daughter (and Alphi too 'cause he's Ali brother so no other way), and Zero as well (no he doesn't care that she's supposed to be MUCH OLDER than him).

Also with time he started to enjoy G'raha and Estinien company who he really disliked at first. But now Flo sees G'raha as something like "one more pet" and Estinien is "as smart as me or a even bit less - nice to hang out with".

Or yes! About pets. Florentijn has four cats. He's a very cat person.

Constantly sleep-deprived.

Chronically has no money.

Thanks for your attention💖

[believemetheodore]

Picture Perfect pt.3

Photos from this shoot and this shoot Fic Navigation Page

A week later, Rebecca finds herself in Ted's apartment again. An empty pink box sits on the coffee table. He'd made biscuits just for her. She'd mentioned over drinks after the Richmond shoot last week that she hadn't been able to get them off her mind. Ted promised there were plenary more where the first batch came from, and true to his word, he'd presented her with the baby pink box of biscuits the moment she'd gotten in the door. “Biscuits with the boss!” He’d said.

Now, they sip glasses of red wine, fully invested in the accidental game of twenty questions they'd started nearly an hour before. The questions had started easy, and light-hearted: “First concert? Best concert?” He’d asked. “Spice Girls. And, the Spice Girls”. “Favourite book?” She’d quizzed. “The Fountain Head. Controversial, I know. But, I can explain!” 

The questions are tougher now, more personal, three glasses of wine into the night: “Why did you move to London?” She dares to ask. “Wanted to give my wife some space. Didn’t work out in the end”. “Biggest fear?” He wonders. “Being alone. It’s terrible-- but it’s been necessary”. 

There's a comfort in being known, Rebecca realizes. She's happy to divulge her secrets, and even happier to hear Ted's. It's shameless the way they speak to each other. Their lives, their highs and lows, their mistakes, and their triumphs aren't anything to hide from one another, and this evening has only proved that. 

She tells him about her divorce, and the bitterness she shouldered. He tells her about his son, and how he worries about being so far away from him. Confessions fall out, and honesty pours without provocation. Solace is found in the quiet of Ted’s livingroom. 

By the time they reach the bottom of the bottle, her head rests on his shoulder.  an old episode of bake off playing on the television. It's been ages since she's known this level of domestic peace. 

It's the first time they've hung out for any reason not related to work at all, and it's lovely. She doesn't resist the urge to relax further into the sofa. It's uncomplicated, the ability to land so comfortably in  Ted’s space, and she can't help but wonder if he'd be at ease at her home. If he stopped by her office, could she settle his concerns and fears, how he manages to calm hers on a photography set? 

Her curiosity wraps her in thoughts of their intertwined lives. But, the fear of overstaying her welcome lingers in the back of her mind, dragging her from her thoughts. 

“I should get going. I've got a busy day tomorrow”.

Ted sits up on the couch when she does. He watches as she slips on her jacket and shoes, making his way to the door when she does. 

“Last question,” she teases, “when can I come to get some more biscuits?”

“Any time you like, Rebecca,” his response is sincere. His voice is low, and punctuated with an expression she can't quite read. 

“Thank you, Ted,” she offers a shy smile stepping out into the cobblestone alley. 

“Hey, ‘Becca?” he calls, and she turns back to face him, “why'd you kiss me the other night?”

She swallows. She's not sure how to explain it.

“It just felt right”.

He nods, his hands in the pockets of his khakis.

“I'm sorry,” she tells him.

“Was it that bad?” He tries to joke. 

She has to smile at that, “no, Ted. It wasn't bad at all”. 

“Noted”. 

While they don't have any opportunities to see each other in person for the next week or so, they stay in touch. There's not a day that goes by without texts or FaceTime calls between them. She texts him first thing in the morning still dressed in her pyjamas, waiting for the kettle to come to a boil. he calls her late at night, freshly showered, and laying in bed. 

She doesn't tire of his puns, or Americanisms. His jokes, and his idioms leave her grinning to spite herself. 

On good days, Everything that makes him chuckle gets filed away at the forefront of her mind. She feels privileged to know that he giggles when he's truly amused. His head tips back, laughing until she's sure he'll cry. She swears she'll do everything in her power to hear that sound again and again. 

On bad days, their conversations skew melancholy. They talk about their pasts and their fears for the future. He confesses that he's been in therapy for the last little while, and she admits that she probably should be too. Their conversation goes on until it fizzles out, the sound of their breathing overlapping until they fall asleep. 

Neither of them mentions their kiss. They don't mention how close they've grown over such a relatively short amount of time. Still, Rebecca plays it again and again in her head, refusing to let go of whatever this bond between them is shaping up to be.

Are you at home, Ted?

She sends the text as she packs up her purse, double-checking she has all of her belongings before she leaves her office for the day. She’s on her way out of the building by the time Ted responds. 

Actually, I’m just on my way to my studio.

Wouldn’t mind the company. I have a feeling you’ll liven up the place 😉

She rolls her eyes, ignoring the blush on her cheeks. 

She’s got the digital print preview for the  Richmond article. She hasn’t even taken a peak at the document, wanting Ted to be there with her when she sees the photos for the first time. It’s been torture, the email eating at her. She feels like a kid who just got their spending money, not sure where to spend it, but feeling like it’s burning a hole in her pocket. She just doesn’t know what she’s expecting. She knows what she’s hoping the photos look like. She has an idea of what pull quotes they will use. But the anxiety still lingers. 

Roy commented, saying she “smashed it” when he forwarded her the email. Keeley also assured her with some colourful language and ultimate best friend encouragement that both the article and the images were “Absolutely, positively, mind-blowing, Rebecca”. 

But still, there’s no one else she’d rather have by her side looking over the preview than Ted.  

Ted’s studio is nearly as cozy as his home. High ceilings, airy lighting. Hardwood floors and exposed brick walls are highlighted by the grey and blue accent colours. 

There’s a casual seating area and a kitchenette with one of the largest posters she’s ever seen hanging on the wall-- an advert for a Kansas City barbecue sauce. The rest of the space is dedicated to work and creativity; a backdrop and lights set up at one end of the room; a set of desks backed onto each other, surprisingly tidy if not a little cluttered. She assumes the second desk belongs to his friend Beard. 

Rebecca’s eye catches on the yellow and blue handmade sign above the door to the dark room. Believe, it reads in Ted’s own bold writing. She likes that; it’s quintessentially him, and she’s standing staring at it when he steps out of the darkroom. 

He says hello with some playful teasing and genuine excitement about how the trench coat she’s wearing makes her look like a spy. Coming from Ted’s mouth, it sounds like a compliment. 

Despite his joking, he holds out a hand, “I'll hang your coat. Let ya stay a while”.

“Thank you, Ted”. 

She feels like she's on the back foot. She's adopted his flat as a kind of second home, another shelter from the storm, so to speak. But this is her first time in his studio. It feels more intimate, knowing he spends more time here than he ever spends at home. The flat is just a place to eat, sleep, and bake biscuits. This studio is his life she's standing in. 

He includes her effortlessly. He makes tea surprisingly well, considering his distaste for the ‘hot brown water’. She sets up her laptop on the coffee table while he putters around the kitchenette, joining her once he's made a coffee for himself. It smells like vanilla. 

“I'd offer you some snacks, but beard took the last of the granola bars home--something about pigeons?” Ted says, “I'm afraid I'm not much of a host this evening. Hey! Did I ever tell you about the first dinner party I hosted? I was eighteen--”

“Ted?” Rebecca interrupts, “I'm sure it's an excellent story, but I have something to show you”.

“Ooh. State secrets? I knew you were a spy”.

“I'm sorry to disappoint; it's just the print preview for the Richmond article”.

“Even better. I don't think I'd be very good at hanging on to state secrets anyway. Too loquacious for espionage”. 

Setting down her cup and saucer, Rebecca clicks the document, taking a deep breath before she looks at the spread. 

“These photos are stunning, Ted”.

“It's all you, Boss. I'm just pressing a button”.

She wishes he wouldn't sell himself short. 

She's never liked photos of herself as much as she likes the ones Ted has taken of her.

He's right when he says it's all her. It is. Every bit of her heart spread across the page. Every bit of pain, fear, joy, and love she's ever felt is visible in her eyes. She's glowing. Only Ted can capture her like that, and she knows it's because he can see her, and he can see through her even without a lens. 

“Ya know, boss, sometimes I wonder why I even came over here. I used to be a gallery curator. I collected art. I didn't make it. Photography was a hobby--I'm never quite sure if I'm cut out for this”.

“You are, Ted”.

“The opportunities you've helped bring my way, the shoots I've done with you? They've changed my life, Rebecca”.

She lets his words settle, not entirely sure how to respond. It’s a foreign feeling to be thanked. After so many years of being called cold, heartless, and selfish, it’s difficult to process her own ability to give. Rebecca swallows hard, genuinely touched by her ability to give, even when she’s not trying. All this time, she’d been so dead focused on breaking herself down, and tearing herself apart, perturbed and disquieted, worrying about asking Ted for his help. She hadn’t stopped to consider that she was doing him a favour as well.  

It breaks her heart to know that he isn’t entirely confident in his skills, doubting his impact and ability. Every life he touches, he changes. She is not the same woman she was months ago, and she’s incredibly glad for it.

“You know there’s a saying in dutch football,” she begins. “And here I was thinking it was America’s game!” “Our football, Ted. Not yours,” she corrects, “every disadvantage has its advantage”. 

He hums as he weighs her words, his brows lifting, a smile crossing his face. “Sure, you don’t know much about the fashion industry. But doesn’t that mean you get to see things in a different light? Take photos differently than anybody else would?” 

Ted nods enthusiastically, “I think you’re on to something there, ‘Becca”. 

It’s like a weight lifted from her shoulders. 

Keeley is over the moon when the Richmond article gets released. The project is as exciting as promised, and to be featured alongside so many other incredible artists, models, and designers is an honour. The response has Rebecca thinking more about Richmond, and the potential of a more creative publication. Her own magazine Nelson Road, is up in profit, and the conversation of moving towards growing into a publication conglomerate, running multiple editorials, magazines, blogs etc., out of the same publishing house, has come up many times between Rebecca and her right-hand man Leslie Higgins. 

Work is stressful, but it’s impossible not to enjoy it; to revel in the renewed appreciation for her freedom, and her success. Her peace comes on Friday nights, movies and dinner with Ted. Sometimes he joins her at her home, but despite the size of her kitchen, she rarely has anything good to eat. She reminds Ted that she’s more than glad to order in, but he insists on cooking. So, more often than not, they end up at Ted’s flat. 

They’re enjoying their dessert (apple crumble), when Ted’s phone lights up with a Facetime call from Henry. And, it feels like her heart grows three sizes when he answers the call, not for a second worried about making her uncomfortable. She wants Ted to feel safe and comfortable.

“Hey, kiddo!” “Hi, dad!” Henry grins. “It gotta be way past your bedtime, buddy. What’s happening?” “I need help deciding if I want to bring Lego Hogwarts or my polaroid camera to show and tell tomorrow”. 

Ted hums, “hmm, I gotta go with the camera for fear of how Hogwarts might travel, ya know?” 

“Good thinking, Abe Lincoln!” Henry’s response is enthusiastic, and Rebecca wants to laugh at how much he sounds like his father. 

They chat a while longer before Ted reminds the boy that it is definitely time for bed. His smile lingers even once they’ve said their goodbyes. 

“He still sends me care packages,” Ted tells her, “I’ve been out here for more than a year now, and every couple of months, I get a box full of things he’s made or wants me to have so I don’t forget home”. “He’s an incredible kid,” Rebecca tells him honestly. 

She sits on his kitchen counter, sipping a glass of wine while he tidies, insistent that he doesn’t want her to lift a finger. He tells her about the last care package he got from Henry when she asks about it. His eyes light up as he tells her all about the bottle of the world’s best barbecue sauce and the paper kazoo Henry made him at school. But he’s thrilled to show her the little green army men that arrived. She’s noticed them set up around his apartment, and had always assumed they were from Henry, but the confirmation and Ted’s joy fill her heart. 

It’s bittersweet, the reminder of how much she had wanted to be a mother. It’s a reminder of all the years she’s missed in the life of her goddaughter, and she feels sick thinking about it. Watching Ted be the incredible father he is, has her yearning for that connection. 

Ted tilts his head when he turns to look at her, drying his hands as he moves to stand in front of her. Sliding off the countertop, Rebecca takes the initiative of closing the space between them. She’s instantly enveloped in a hug. His mustach tickles the side of her neck. 

There’s a tension in the air that accompanies the open affection, an unspoken reminder of the kiss they’d shared months ago. 

“Can I photograph you?” He asks. 

“You already have”. “I know. But this portrait project I’ve been working on-- I want to take your photo if you’ll let me”. 

Her response is a kiss. She knows her words will fail her if she tries to speak. But she can only hope to convey how much she absolutely adores him, and if the way he holds her is any indication, he adores her too. 

She commits every detail of him to memory. His touch, his laugh, the way he kisses her like his life depends on it. She doesn't ever want to forget the way his face scrunches up, his peaceful sleep disturbed by the pesky morning sun creepy through his bedroom window.  

All of it plays on a loop in her head from the moment he brings her breakfast in bed, to the kiss goodbye she gets on her way out the door. 

And now she watches his hands shake, changing out his lens, and Rebecca can't help but reach out and steady him. Her hands soft when they grasp his wrists giving Ted the chance to put the equipment down before she entangles her fingers with his. His eyes don't meet hers, downcast, focused on his own shoes. 

“Ted?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you alright?” 

“I just want to make sure I do this right”.

Rebecca nods at his admition. though she can't pretend to understand his logic, she wants to. She wants to know everything about him. So, she asks, “what makes you think you won't?”

“I don't know--guess that's pretty backwards, ain't it?” 

“I think it just means you care,” she offers, “which is also why I know you're going to make me look incredible”.

He lets out a breathy laugh, “I told you already, you don't need any of my help with that, ‘Becca”. 

He flatters her, but it’s genuine. She knows every word from Ted’s mouth to be honest. Rebecca doesn’t have any interest in spending her time comparing Ted and Rupert. They couldn’t be any more dissimilar, theres no comparison to make. But, Rebecca knows how it feels to be on the receiving end of a backhanded compliment; to be sweet-talked to soften the blow of cruel words, or distract from mistreatment. 

Rebecca accepts Ted’s compliments because she knows he means each word. He dotes on her without any ulterior motive. Now, that she’s learned to accept praises, she just needs to learn to believe them. 

With a quick kiss to ground him, Ted resumes his work. He ignores the digital camera, and the lenses he set down earlier, and chooses to shoot on film. The camera looks quite old, but has obviously been well taken care of. Rebecca watches, fascinated as he loads it, wondering if it holds any sentimental value. 

“The first camera I ever bought.” Ted answers her unvoiced question, “Only for special occasions now”. 

“I’m honoured,” she grins playfully as he snaps his first photo. 

It’s months later when Ted wanders into her office with a bounce in his step. 

“Good morning! And what a great morning it is!” “Good morning, Ted,” she returns his smile, and is all too happy to let him kiss her. “You forgot your biscuits,” he explains, setting the little pink box on her desk. “What would I do without you?” 

He’s not able to respond before Higgins is entering the room. “Oh, sorry,” Higgins excuses himself, “I can come back later”. 

“Nothing to apologize for Higgie-smalls,” Ted insists, “What’s happening?” Higgins turns his attention to Rebecca, “I just got the confirmation that Welton Publishing is now the proud owner of a third magazine: BEX”. 

There’s a gasp of joy that escapes her, and she’s unbothered and unashamed. She’s cheering, and Higgins is grinning ear to ear. Ted finishes his celebratory dance before offering up the proudest smile he can manage. She knows they’ll be going out to dinner tonight, her and Ted, Keeley and Roy, Higgins, Beard, and all of their closest friends. She’s worked hard for this, faced trial by fire for this. And to think of where she was a year ago? Afraid to step on anyone’s toes. Scared shitless by the prospect of being seen, or vulnerable. But, today she stands, the proud owner of a growing conglomerate. Nelson Road, Richmond, and BEX all under her proprietorship. 

She is successful. She is loved. And most importantly, she’s free.

[ineedtherapist]

Never realise I write so damn much until now LMAO.

Bucci gang with s/o who have a very pretty smile hcs

Bruno

"y/n.. what are you doing? Is that so?... Are you alright? Well okay then. Please tell me if you need any help okay, amore? Let's go get some fresh air, it's been a while since we visit nonna down the street."

Bruno have always loves the sheer confidence that you emitted both while carrying out your mission as a mafioso and going on with your simple daily life as a normal human being . He sees it as a form of commitment that he found himself being able to share the same sentiment as well which encourages him to start an official relationship with you.

If there's one thing that he absolutely loves about you is your unique way of thinking and acting which consists of endless optimism much to his amusement ofc not in a bad way as well as your absolutely gorgeous smile accompanying those equally stunning mentality.

Working in the mafioso can hardly be called conventional, yet you show your true nature without a care in the world when you are not being tied to the organisation.

Making your way through all the problem thrown at you with your usual smile plastered on your face, you seems to be least troubled by what Bruno can assume minor inconveniences.

As someone who is known to be serious while working, naturally Bruno sees the constant smile you throw at him while working is a privilege he holds as your partner.

Therefore, he will, I repeat he WILL make sure every outing both of you went out together end up with you smiling all the way to your ears.

If you're someone who loves something simple yet fulfilling, he'll bring you to occasional lunch date and take you to walk around Naples afterwards, chatting with the locals and simply enjoying each other presence.

If you loves something more upbeat but still relaxing, he'll take you to the beach and spend his time there with you.

Whatever you like or you dislike, he is quick to notice and use this as a reminder for your next date. He loves it when you look at him contently with your pretty lil smile. It makes him feel all warm inside.

Being a capo is by no mean an easy feat and his schedule are always packed. Sometimes things can get... a lil out of control and there's more work for him to be done where he doesn't even get a chance to see you. Your serious working nature doesn't make it any easier for him either. He is far from clingy yet it doesn't change the fact that he is still only a human who need someone to lean on for a while.

Check on him and flash him a small smile on your way out of his office and his mood will instantly got better.

Your smile have become his source of comfort and something he could look forward to after a tiring day at work.

It's kinda went without saying that Bruno doesn't mind you and your public interaction since they know better than to mess with the capo's lover. he knows how you're more than capable to stand up and fend for yourself.

Abbachio

'"you're insane, donna/uomo. yeah that's right. you're absolutely batshit crazy. One moment you're sitting at the meeting table, taking notes looking all serious and shit and the next moment here you are smiling at me with that fucked up beautiful smile."

Abbachio is the type that would never told you how he absolutely adore your smile despite how bad he want to.

The type that stays at home and value his personal space so he will greatly appreciated it if you are the same.

He is not much of a jokester so don't expect him to crack any type of joke nor does he have the ability or energy to do anything "fun" he tried it once, doesn't end with a good note.

Instead, he would much prefer for you to talk about yourself while cuddling into him.

Tease you a lot tho

The way both of you sitting on the couch with your pretty lil lips curled upwards and looking at him full of adoration makes him feel all fuzzy with weird sensation inside though not in a bad way. you're drunk abba.

Because of his past Abba is really straightforward. He'll speak his mind if he found out something that inconvenience him the gang despite the person being his own s/o.

But naturally being one of the most responsible person in the gang, he definitely held you in a high regard.

Not as much as bruno but enough for him to hear you out till the end. He doesn't mind you being all serious and shit while carrying out the mission since honestly it makes everything so much easier and secretly turn him on.

Besides the idea of you flashing your smile that originally only directed for him to another man even though they're his teammates doesn't seem very appealing to him.

He loves you but he almost threw himself out of the window because of your mentality. He doesn't need to worry about you being all close to his member but he literally need to worry about the rest of the population on earth. even noona down the street?

Even when you explain to him, about how it's just unnecessary worries and you're just literally smiling like a normal human being, again he fcking hates it when other ppl see something that was meant to be his. woah slow ur horse mf, we ain't prize to be claimed

That's until one day he sees you're dripping with soft drink on your rare outing outside the house. He's about to lose his shit, ready to beat the crap out of the person that did this to you.

Instead of cussing him, you remain calm and simply flash that guy a big smile. You take his hand in a pretence of shaking it before gripping his hands in a crushing grip resulting all of his fingers to break. You threaten him to better keep his mouth shut if he wants to live a long life .

After that incident, abba never says anything about this anymore. As long as you stay besides him, he can tolerate it to a certain degree is fine with anything.

Mista

"Bambino/na what are you doing? Smile for me please!! Papà gonna give you some good stuff for it~"

fuck off mista, it's so cringe and for what? 😭

Boy oh boy..

What kind of luck do you even possess to end up with the guy who is the epitome of the chaos himself?

Will try to make you smile every 3 fcking sec...

This range from silly corny jokes to intense humanity debate and overbearing tickling contest... just imagine mista being mista but 100 times worst. rip reader dying of absolute bs

But ofc that because he just couldn't stop thinking how pretty your smile are. When his dumping, sleeping or even going on a mission, all he can think is what should he do to let him see that absolutely gorgeous smile of yours again

If you don't like pda which is kinda painfully obvious with how serious you act and took your job are, he'll find another way to work things out, man need his daily dose of sugary sweet smile else he's as good as dead dramatic really but mista is mista

He got no personal space, talk to him about this, he'll remember it for an hour before went back to his usual self, constantly trying to get your attention.

Though your professional attitude never really crack despite his attempt since Mista jokes is either you laugh until you out of your breath or you just want to slap him across the face because of how terrible his jokes are bless you reader

He takes pride everytime someone complimented how beautiful your smile are whenever both of you went on a date like YOU ARE ALREADY absolutely gorgeous in general whether you smile or not, no debating about that but there's just this feeling that he couldn't describe when someone pay attention to his partner.

Will brag about you to his teammates for the hundredth time every single fcking day

Your commitment towards your job is something that he admire a lot. He takes his job seriously but doesn't really feel any need to put extra effort in them, quite the contrast to you.

But the real reason why he is so deeply attracted to you yourself and your smile in the first place is the contrast in your personality, how you are all business and serious when doing mafioso job and how you waltz through all the bullshit thrown at you with a huge non- bothered smile on your face outside the job.

The first time he sees this situation he just can't seem to think about any right word to describe his feeling but he just knew he fell for you AND he fell HARD.

Mista is lazy asf, but he still take the liberty of going on an occasional outside dates tho it usually means you guys won't be going back home unless it's 6 in the morning and it's hella a lot of fun.

Narancia

"Y/N !!! I HEARD THERE'S A NEW CINEMA OPENING NEXT TOWN! ARE YOU BUSY? CAN WE GO TOGETHER PLEASEEEEEE? ARK! YOUR SMILE! IT'S BLINDING MEEE"

Okay imagine mista but worse.

Don't take the wrong idea, he's the sweetest cinnamon roll aside for high chance of being stab if his sudden reflex act up that can ever exist.

But this guy absolutely went feral for you and your smile.

" y/n?"

"Y/N..

"Y/NNNN!!!"

"You better pray for whatever deity exist on this earth to help you else you gonna go insane by how intense narancia is, using any means possible to gain even a smallest upward curl on your lips.

Though unlike mista he'll actually calm down and try to be mindful about your personal space and time. If he forgot about it, just remind him slowly, poor guy already got enough yelling from fugo :(

Don't do it for too long tho, he'll get anxious. when that happens, just flash him your usual smile and he calm down instantly. touch him and he's never gonna let you go #abandonment issues goal

Narancia strike as the jealous type, that's why although he likes it when someone complimented you, he prefer them to not stare for too long.

The up sides of being his s/o is that narancia is easy to talk with and overall just a great and fun person to be with unlike that one person with weird ass hat,dry joke and a gun sorry not sorry you'll find yourself occasionally smiling subconsciously while conversing with him.

He will never tell you but he already make it his life-long mission to protect your smile.

Take you to hang out around arcade or carnival if there's one, doesn't matter if it's gonna take an hour to go there, you have him! everytime this type of outing date happen, both of you will have a blast and went home with a big smile spread across both of your face.

When both of you went on a mission, he try to make you smile since it became some type of reassurance for him because he got nervous with you looking tense and all. He's bad at reading people unless they're filled with malicious intent and the bucci gang, so he mistakes it as you not liking him being in a mission with you because of how fugo and mista will "jokes" of him being unreliable and childish. bruh🗿Little did he knew it was just your usual work mood and when the mission went wrong in his attempt to make you smile. well- reader please hug him

Both of you manage to get the work done although there's some problems in the middle of the process and now there's an oversize child dangling on your thigh practically stained with snorts and tears begging for your forgiveness.

Please talk to him, he is drowned in guilt and self-hate because of what happened. Talk to him and tell him whatever the hell he was thinking in that mission and right then and there isn't true. It's just how you really are and you don't hate him. Smile for him and he'll instantly feel better. Expect lots of cuddling after the make-up too <3.

Secretly hates your way of thinking but keep silence because that's also the reason why he fell in love with you and why he's been able to improve himself for the sake of your relationship.

He know how ppl take things for granted and think it's okay to continue their bullshit until you lash out at them and despite that ppl will still blame you because they say you can't even "tolerate" a bit whatsoever

He also know you're strong but that doesn't mean you have to take everything by your own.

He want both of you to be able to smile together without a care in the world and he'll make it. happen one way or another.

Fugo

"Bella/o, there's a new book that I want to check out at the bookstore? Do you want to come with me? oh.. no.. it's nothing.. just.. you- .. i mean.. nothing, let's go"

First thing first, congrats. You have manage to secure the most perfect person for your lil quirk.

Look, Fugo hates PDA. It brings some not so happy memory of his childhood. Having s/o who can instantly make him feel better simply by giving out a smile is something that he never thought he need or even possibly exist.

Even if you guys have been together for a while, there're still times when he want to be love by not being hold and your smile is just the perfect thing he needs.

Absolutely adore everything about you. You, Your smile, your work persona, your way of thinking, he was all over you honestly.

He doesn't think your mentality is unnecessarily bad. Being born in a strict ex-household, he understands the freedom of thought is a type of a blessing and luxury too.

Tho you will find him being distant and slightly avoiding of you on certain occasion. Unlike his firm believe, Fugo is extremely self-conscious especially when it comes to his relationship.

You're strong. He already know about this, as he is both your teammates and your lover. He witness your strength first-hand himself and despite how badly he doesn't want to think it, his intrusive thoughts are slowly eating him up from the inside. please take care of him reader

He'll try to call it off multiple times but if you give him a small smile and tell him that you want to give it your best before deciding anything , he'll approve under the jurisdiction of "trying" for preference and shit don't believe him it's all a lie to make him feel better about the whole situation

He is surprisingly good in making you smile. Again, used to being a role model student, his way of talking isn't oppressive in the slightest and more often than not while discussing something, you'll find yourself similar to Narancia situation and simply smile while he explains his thing.

This only apply if you don't start an argument with him, cross his boundary or piss him off

He'll never tell you but he's really flustered when you first smile at him. and even now truth to be told

He'll never tell you but he's really flustered when you first smile at him. and even now truth to be told.

Won't really care about your public interaction. he got purple haze after all.

Use your smile as a mean to not kill someone narancia and mista or everytime something set him off since it's going to make you sad and he doesn't want that.

Giorno

"Yeah, why not? of course not. Anything that put a smile on your face will never be a problem."

Giorno himself is a very reserved man, occasionally throwing a small smile out of courtesy to ppl he make contact with so he can relate to your action to a certain degree.

He's very intrigued by your mindset and how you carry yourself both while working and outside of work.

He respect you on how optimistic you are when dealing with other people outside of the job on the pretences of them being normal civilians. genocide giorno mode off and how serious you are when dealing with the mafioso. man gonna fell hard

Giorno loves to see your smile even when doing particularly nothing.

He found comfort in your smile, perhaps a sense of belonging and normalcy of having someone to smile at him without any intention or ambition hiding behind it.

He's a balance between both of his fathers, so you could either expect over the top and lavish dates or extremely casual and fun dates. no in-between.

Similar to Bruno his end-goal is to make sure your pretty smile caress your face as both of you head home.

He doesn't do it too much but wil tease you sometimes to get a reaction from you.

When he's having a bad day, he seek you out to simply spend time with you, watching you doing your own work while giving him a few smile here and there is enough to lighten his mood.

Trish

"Amore mio! look at this! I manage to find a shirt/dress that's gonna match that gorgeous smile of yours. Come on, try it on!"

Trish is honestly a very lovely partner to have.

She's a mix of everyone in the bucci gang.

Once she found out how pretty your smile are, you're going to get bombarded by photo sessions and shopping spree. Her s/o have such a beautiful smile, how could she not try to bring the best out of them

She have good sense of humour and use it to her own advantage, both of you often end up giggling with each other while checking out the clothing that Trish pick up for you

Trish is also very mindful of your limit, she understands ppl need time and space of their own so despite how excited she is to see your beautiful smile, she won't constantly pester you.

Trish is essentially very confident in herself and would simply face everything head on so her s/o that execute the same vibe? Putting their quirk to advantages to face their problems? HELL YEAH! You go babe!

On and on she loves your optimism AND your work attitude she think it's smoking hot

She think the contrast is very endearing and feel extremely proud she's the only person that become the constant attention of those pretty smiles.

Doesn't really care about whatever ppl think about you, you're her, she is yours. It's that simple.

Though there are days when she got too stressed out and not feeling well particularly on her period day.That's where your smile come in really handy. Only at this time, she'll become absolutely clingy and ask you to show your beautiful smile for her. will also glare at everyone and everything if both of you went out together.

[ladymarycrawley]

A very Stonesy birthday- John Stones

Not based on any request, five days ago it was my birthday so I just wrote this little thing right away on the train back home from the holidays. (I should've had him as a birthday present tbh) PLUS I'll regret it maybe given the amount of requests I have BUT my consider my requests for John open!

Warning: it's mainly fluff content with some sexual innuendos

Tag list: @masonxomount @chelsealover @stonesyy

Going on holiday with him was something you had been looking forward to for days, months and, if you added the fact that you'd get to celebrate your birthday together in the meanwhile, it made it even more special to you.

You weren't a fan of birthdays but John's loving gestures made you fall for him even harder and like that weird day a little more.

That morning he woke you up with small pecks all over your face, his morning raspy voice humming the song happy birthday in your ear. It was just a way to tease you as he knew you hated that stupid tune.

You would hide your face out of embarrassment in the pillow that was his, making him giggle as he kissed the shell of your ear.

"Happy birthday babe"

"Thanks" Your voice was still hoarse with sleep, sounding also quite annoyed. 

"All people would like to be awaken like this the day of their birthday"

"With someone shouting happy birthday in their ear or with John Stones kissing them?"

"With someone singing for them obviously"

"Oh well…I thought you'd say with John Stones kissing you"

"Nope because you're the only one lucky enough to get that luxury treat" He whispered on your lips, a satisfied whimper leaving his lips at the feeling of your fingers tangled in his curls.

That was only the first of the many kisses you shared that day, soon leading to some more intimate displays of affection. 

Next thing you did was spending the day at the spa gardens near the villa you were staying at.

That place was so quiet and beautiful it definitely looked like Eden, with palm trees, hibiscus and the sound of sea shielding the perimeter of the park, with its waves crashing on the shore. It was pure bliss.

John couldn’t help but smile when he saw how happy you were being in your element, the sea.

"This place is awesome, John"

"Only the best for the birthday girl" You smiled at him, bending down to place a kiss on his lips as he was already lounging on the sunbed.

He stretched his arm out to place his hand on your exposed bum, loving how that pink biking you bought a cpuole of days ago hugged your figure.

"Is there someone so kind to help me with my sunscreen?"

"I'll volunteer" He beamed, doing the impression of an eager kid that never fails to make you laugh.

His big hand moved over your back, carefully applying the white cream to protect your skin.

"You love that, don't you?"

He moved his head to the side.

"You have no idea" He murmured, the kiss he just left on your neck making you shiver.

"Oh well, I think I have a clue"

"Can I put sunscreen on you too?"

"You're just asking because you know I wouldn't be able to say no to the birthday girl aren't you, little brat?"

"Don't call me that" 

"Come on, not many people can say to have helped John Stones with his suncream" He teased you, picking up the joke you started earlier that morning 

"I have kissed him and applied suncream on him, I'm such a lucky girl"

"It's time for you to acknowledge your privilege"

"Shut up" You giggled as you straddled him to spread the lotion over his bare back as he was lying on his tummy. 

You tried all the thermal pools together as well as the private beach you had just for the two of you.

Your favourite moment was when you got out of the water and laid in the sun together. 

He gave you the perfect view as you were chilling on your bed and he was sitting on the one near you, his bare, muscly back on full display. 

You let your right hand travel along his spine, your pads tracing all its furrows until it reached the back of his neck. Then you let your nails scratch his nape, feeling him relax under your touch.

You can't stand keeping your body away from his any longer so you got up and sat behind him, your legs open dangling along his longer ones while your arms were wrapped around his neck.

John smiled and placed a kiss on your forearm before moving his glance back on the landscape before your eyes.

It was so beautiful and so calming you decided to silently join him in his watching activity. 

His bare shoulder below your chin was inviting you couldn't keep yourself from kissing it. So you pressed your lips to his bare shoulder, his skin hot and salty against your lips, thanks to the sea water and partly to the suncream that gave it such a weird flavour which was new to your taste buds but also good. It was as if there was a magnet underneath his skin that made it impossible for your mouth, the other pole, to break away so you let your lips linger there, over his already tanned and savoury body.

Things got a bit heated when you laid back on the sunbed and your boyfriend got up just to lay on top of you to make you relax even more with a trail of kisses that started from you groin, lingering on the mole you got there that drove him crazy, to go upwards.

Gladly there's just the two of us here…

That night John took you out to dinner where Kyle and other friends joined you. He knew you would've liked something more romantic, involving only you both but the guys were on holiday in the same place and insisted on going out with you.

Therefore he kept his eyes on you all the time, just to make sure you were enjoying yourself.

In addition, he couldn't stop admiring how hot you looked with your off the shoulder top, the balloon sleeves gracing your slightly tanned skin. He bent forward to place a loving kiss on your bare shoulder, making you turn your head towards him and smile.

"Are you okay?"

You nodded, your hand brushing lovingly against his stubble.

"I'm great, can't wait to unwrap my presents"

"This is your present: a day and a romantic dinner with John Stones"

You giggled, pushing him away playfully.

"Stop that! I mean a real present"

"So you're just taking me for granted??"

"I'm not but you better behave after taking me to dinner, on my birthday, with your stupid friends"

He groaned, giving you the puppy eyes.

"But I love you"

"I love you too, baby. I never doubted that but you should give me a real present"

He giggled "Just wait till we're back in our room"

"Can't wait to unwrap John Stones as my birthday present" You mumbled against his lips. He had started feeling a bit tense and aroused, your friends completely disappeared in that moment.

He cleared his voice, trying to pull himself together, as your kisses moved downwards, on his neck.

"Okay, I'll go get the bill" He got up from his chair in a rush, making you burst out into a fit of laughter and under the quizzing looks of your guests. 

[bratkook]

cozy thief. (m) jjk

pairing. jeon jungkook x reader genre. smut, fluff, mutual pining word count. 5.1k warnings. roommate!au, cuteness!! lots of kissing & heavy petting, hand in pants action and messy/needy humping from jungkook lol  summary. a rainstorm knocking out your power is the small push needed for confessions to come tumbling out author’s note. requested for #30 from this prompt list! thank you for sending this in 🖤 (requests now closed)

The bubbling water is the only thing you focus on as you rest against the countertop, hands tightly holding onto your fluffy blanket of choice to trap all of the warmth in before it could escape. The rhythmic pattering of rain against the windows has become background noise now, already accustomed to the sound that woke you up hours ago.

It’s therapeutic really, your fuzzy socks sliding along the floor as you pull out your favorite mug, grabbing the hot chocolate mix and mini marshmallows from their rightful spot in the pantry. You don’t even think about the ridiculous electric bill you’ll be getting from how high you currently have the heater cranked up, freezing to death was not worth saving a few bucks. 

Jungkook would agree, loving the fact that he didn’t have to worry about walking around the apartment in a snow coat and scarf. Sure you were currently bundled up as if the place wasn’t maintained at a steady 75 degrees, but from the time spent living together he had grown to learn that the minute there was rain or snow you would pull out the coziest blankets regardless of temperature. 

“Can you make me one too?” He speaks up as he leans against the mini island, smiling when your blanket clad body jumps at the unexpectant sound of his voice. 

The spoon clanks against the mug as you stop stirring the hot chocolate, turning your head back to take a peek at your roommate. “Don’t scare me like that.”

Jungkook laughs now, pulling up the sleeves of his shirt as he rounds the island to grab himself a mug. “What, should I wear a bell around my neck to let you know when I’m nearby?”

“Yeah actually, you sneak up on me all the time. You’re gonna give me a heart attack one day.” 

You eye his mug of choice, a Friends one that actually belonged to you, a little hard to believe considering it was the one he always used without fail. It was admittedly your fault for forcing him to binge watch the whole show on Netflix before it got taken off, but for someone who claimed he couldn’t stand it all he sure did cradle the themed mug with utmost care. 

“You’re easy to scare, can’t blame me for seeing an opportunity and taking it.” Sliding the mug in your direction he rests on his elbows, observing you as you pour in the hot water, mixing the cocoa powder and smiling when you get the first inhale of it. 

“Scare me some more and I’m revoking this mug privilege.” Jungkook knows it's an empty threat, the roll of his eyes calling your bluff so you just sigh, clutching the bag of mini marshmallows and bringing them close. “Yay or nay for the marshmallows?”

“Yay, what do I look like, an animal?” He scoffs, hand urging you to top off his drink with more sweets, a charming smile spreading out onto his face when you slide the mug over. 

Just as he’s about to take a sip you walk off, both hands cupping your drink as you slide your way out of the kitchen. “Wait, where are you going?”

You freeze at the doorway, turning around with a confused face, “To binge watch some movies in the living room? The vent by the couch makes it the best place to get toasty.”

“Mind if I join you?”

The audacity of him to ask as if he didn’t regularly crash your binging parties, still you nod your head before turning back around and continuing your trek, hearing the soft patter of his bare feet against the floor. 

“Why did you beg me to get you those cow slippers for your birthday if you refuse to wear them?” You wonder as you settle onto the couch, adjusting your blanket to circle around your lap as you bring your knees up. 

Jungkook sighs dramatically as he sits beside you, bringing his bare feet up and shoving them underneath the pile of blanket around you, laughing loudly when you yell at the feeling of his cold feet against your silk pajama pants. “Because they’re cute, besides I don’t need slippers because my roommate has the best blankets.”

Accepting your fate you simply glare at him, detesting the way he could look as good as he does while attempting to push your buttons. The smug smile against the rim of the mug shows that he knows he can get away with it, a playful wink being the icing on top as he reaches for the remote. 

You ignore the way your heart skips as he clicks onto your profile, already sorting through your favorite movies, knowing they were starred and saved under your list. As he passes Legally Blonde you gasp, almost undetected but he had been waiting for any reaction to know what to pick. 

“You know, this has become one of my favorite movies now.” He quietly confesses, pressing play and setting the remote down onto the coffee table. 

“Seriously?”

Jungkook hums as he takes another sip, eyes focused on the beginning scenes of Legally Blonde. This was definitely one of your comfort movies, even if he didn’t end up crashing your movie night he could still hear each scene from his bedroom, almost knowing every single line from how often you played it. 

He proves his point as the movie continues, the two of you slowly sinking further into the couch, no longer caring about him using your blanket as makeshift slippers as you laugh each time he recites a line, adding his own commentary as he goes. The mugs of hot chocolate are drained dry, pushed onto the coffee table, freeing up his hands that somehow wind up playing with your own in a mindless motion, slowly tracing down your fingers to gently clasp them together before pulling apart and repeating. 

Just as Elle Woods takes the floor to question the witness, the entire room goes black, Jungkook’s hands freezing on top of yours as you wait for a moment. With the loss of power you instantly feel the warmth begin to fade away, the vent right beside the couch no longer providing you the toasty escape you wanted. 

“It was getting to my favorite part.” He groans out, resting his head back onto the couch, something you can just barely see in the darkness. 

“Fuck is the whole block out of power?”

Jungkook pulls his hand away from yours as he stands up, knocking his knee into the coffee table and laughing as he tries to navigate through the dark living room. His silhouette makes it to the window, peering through it to see if maybe it was just your building that was shit out of luck, but the entire block is in fact dark. 

“Yup, it’ll probably come back soon though.”

After two more hours and another mug of hot chocolate it became very clear that the power wouldn’t be coming back any time soon. Both of your phones lay screen down with the flashlight on as you finish up your drink once more, tightening the blanket around you now that the cold is becoming more prevalent. 

“We’re gonna freeze to death.”

“No we’re not, it's a rain storm not a blizzard outside. We should probably call it a night though, the floors are getting cold as fuck.”

He had still refused to put on his slippers, allowing the cold tile from the kitchen to turn his feet into icicles. “You act like you don’t own socks or slippers.”

Jungkook merely waves you off with a laugh, grabbing his phone from its spot on the counter. “Let me live, good night!” His flashlight sways with every step, illuminating the trail before he disappears behind his bedroom door, leaving you with no other option than to retreat into your own room. 

The door shuts behind you with a soft click, the rapid pattering of the rain against the window filling up the space and its no longer as therapeutic as it used to be now that you can feel the cold it brings with it.

Lighting up the candle on your nightstand, hoping the smell of gingerbread will convince your mind you’re not freezing, you settle into your bed. The feeling of your cold sheets against you has you whining, quickly pulling up the blankets at the end of the bed to warm you up as you ball into yourself. 

It's only a few minutes later that you hear the gentle knocking against your door, the top of your head just barely peeking up from the mountain of blankets as Jungkook peers inside your room. The words he wants to say leave him when he takes note of the way you're being swallowed whole by different patterns. 

“Holy shit, can you even breathe?”

“You wish you were this comfortable.” You laugh, tightening your grip on the blankets and pulling them snugly under your chin. 

He shuts the door behind him as he steps further into your room, smiling when he gets the whiff of your candle. “That's actually why I’m here, can I steal a blanket?”

The idea of parting with even one of your blankets sounds like a sin, a frown etched onto your face as you contemplate it. “If you think I’m gonna give you one of these after you refused to use the slippers I bought you, you’re crazy.”

“C’mon,” he whines, sitting on the edge of the bed and toppling over to bury his face against the warmth, fingers clutching on when you try to wiggle him off of your legs.

“No, if you take one you’re gonna fuck up the balance I have going on right now.”

“Fine,” he grunts, but just when you think he’ll give up he starts to crawl over you, long limbs making their way to the other side of the bed. You feel the cold instantly as he peels off the comforter from the right side, making himself right at home as he slides underneath it in search of warmth. “We’ll share then.”

With the way he shimmies around, finding the best position to get comfortable, you know there's no way you can shake him. He smiles into the sheets when you grumble out a fine and turn over, not trusting yourself to be able to stare at his face from a close proximity and do something you’d regret. 

A soft exhale leaves your lips as you force your eyes shut, ignoring the pounding in your chest as he inches closer so his legs don’t slip out from the blankets. You and Jungkook were roommates, and friends now underneath it all, but before you had crossed into friendship territory you realized you had a teeny tiny crush on him. 

When you had first moved in he had a girlfriend, a girl you rarely ever saw since he preferred to go to her place, so it helped tame down the crush. But once they broke up and he began spending all of his time at home, the small bursts of his personality you would see lit that crush back up. It was always hard to tell if the way he behaved around you was just the way he normally acted or if he maybe had a small interest in you as well. 

Forcing your mind from wandering deeper into fantasyland you nuzzle further into your pillow, pulling more of the blankets with you as you try to fall asleep. Jungkook feels the cold nip at his exposed ankle, huffing and flipping over to look at you with a small smile, the stolen blankets bundled around you nice and tight. 

“Steal the blanket again and I’ll put my cold feet on you.” Is the threat he makes as his fingers clutch onto the top layer of blanket and tug it back. It's a threat you don’t take lightly, gaze narrowing as you turn your head to glare at him. 

“You wouldn’t…”

His brows raise up at the challenge, jaw ticking out as he looks at you and before you can even react, he’s attacking, maneuvering himself around until he’s skillfully slipping his cold ass feet underneath the hem of your pants. You feel the cold instantly, a squeal of protest leaving you as you try to kick him away. 

“Who the fuck sleeps with no socks in this weather!”

“Me, which is why I need the blankets you thief!” He laughs out, continuing to try to yank the blankets back now that you were distracted, pulling the soft fabric out of your fists as you start to admit defeat. With a small cheer of success he pulls the warmth up and over the both of you like a little fort, his eyes crinkling up in a smile as he stares at you, now positioned right on top of you. 

Small pants escape your mouth as you slow your breathing, wide eyes blinking up at him as he refuses to move. The bed dips on either side of you as he holds himself up, lips still spread out in a smile, getting wider when he sees the way your eyes flicker down to them before looking back. 

You wanted to kiss him, he knew this, had known of your crush since the very beginning. Jungkook had taken note of the way you would stumble over words whenever you spot him leaving the bathroom with just a towel around his waist, enjoying the flustered look on your face, that being the main reason he did it so often. 

You thought you were slick, letting your eyes trace over the lines of muscle until it slipped behind the towel, but he simply let you get away with it, meeting your flustered gaze with that bunny smile you had grown to love. But as he hovers over you now there's no way he can pretend he doesn't notice the way your starry eyes stare at him, how you subtly lick your lips over. 

With a small tilt to his head he finally breaks the silence, whispering gently inside of the little cocoon he had made. “I really want to kiss you.” 

That gets him the reaction he wanted, the small gasp filling the air as your mouth drops open a tiny bit. “What?”

“Your lips look so soft, wanna kiss them.” His voice drops to a murmur, slow and husky as the words drawl out. 

He wants to kiss you, something you’ve been dreaming of for months, and now your mind is betraying you as it struggles to unscramble the words needed to respond. 

“Can I?” He asks, soft eyes looking directly at you and when you nod your head he tsks in disapproval, “Need to hear you say it love.”

The pet name makes you melt into your sheets, finally giving him a response as your brain releases your voice, “Y-yes, please kiss me.”  

Jungkook smiles in appreciation before slowly inching forward, nose gently nudging against yours as he swoops in. Your eyes flutter shut when the softness of his lips press against yours, kissing back instantly at the first touch, your mind whirling at the intoxicating feeling. Jungkook can feel his heartbeat quicken when you let out a small sigh, your shy hands gaining courage and sliding up his sides until you’re cupping his face. 

He winces at the icy feel of your fingers on his cheeks, the soft breaths of his laughter making you smile in between kisses, teeth knocking together as it begins to turn messy, the two of you just wanting more of each other now that the line has finally been crossed. 

Jungkook lets you bring him in closer, balancing on his elbows as he slots himself between your thighs, the soft smacks of your lips blending in with the light crackle of the candle and the rain from outside. 

A gentle nip of your teeth on his bottom lip earns you the first groan, the second coming when you trace your tongue along the seam of his mouth, slowly licking your way inside until it’s gently tangled against his own. Jungkook can feel his heart thrumming in his ears now, the realization that he was finally kissing you making his entire body warm up. 

The way you had behaved with him, calling him bro, punching his shoulder whenever he told jokes in an act to force yourself from ruining the friendship, made him believe that this would never happen. He didn’t want to come across as the typical cocky boy who swore he could win everyone over but the way you’re gasping into his mouth, fingers moving to grasp around his neck to bring him even closer when he unconsciously rolls his hips into yours makes him feel like he just did. 

Your wishful thinking had been true, the sweet gestures he did in day to day life stemming from the small inkling of a crush, something that had been planted the minute he started spending more time at home and around you. At first he thought nothing of it, chalking it up to enjoying spending time with his new friend, but soon enough he discovered he preferred to stay in with you, join you on your random quests to hunt for a new place to eat at, ignoring any other girl who showed any interest in him. 

As the two of you continue to kiss inside the small makeshift fort, the air becomes stuffy, Jungkook pulling away with a small laugh. “Wait, can’t breathe.”

You let go of his neck and paw the blankets off your faces, the cool air of your bedroom finally being welcomed as you catch your breath. 

“Better?” you question, smiling when he nods at you. “Good, now kiss me again.”

He doesn’t need you to tell him twice, lips cutting off the end of your sentence urgently, feeling the way you smile against him, your leg hooking over his hips like second nature. Jungkook feels like his head is spinning, the way your fingers move to rake along his hair, the soft gasps and sighs passed between you, he feels like a goner, the tipping point being your hips rutting up into his. 

Both of you pause at the sensation, Jungkook moaning into your mouth as your clothed core grinds along the slowly growing erection pressed against you. “Y/N, don’t tease me.”

“Why?” you breathe out, pressing kisses along the side of his mouth and jaw as you repeat the motion, the usual fear of him not feeling the same long gone from your mind. 

He drops himself further until his face is buried in your neck, goosebumps flaring out as his breath hits your skin when he speaks. “I’m trying to be sweet.” he murmurs, kissing your neck softly. 

“You are being sweet,” you whisper, tightening your grip around his hip, smiling when he groans while you once again rut up into him. “Am I not being sweet? Just wanna make you feel good, Kook.”

Of course you were sweet, you always have been, it was the main reason his heart started to skip around you, why he clung onto your mug like a safety net, wanting to keep a small part of you with him. If you wanted to make him feel good he was in no position to refuse, wanting to reciprocate the sweet gesture instead. 

Jungkook lifts his head up, dark waves falling over his face as he stares at you, wanting to see the look on your face as he gives the first roll of his hips into yours. He sees the way your teeth bite down onto your lower lip, pillowing the soft flesh out, mouth opening up to let out a gasp as he repeats the motion. There's never been a time where he’s been more thankful for a power outage than right now. 

“Keep going,” you urge him on, sighing beautifully when he rocks against you again, hips nudging the leg hooked around his waist higher up with each slowly thrust. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He sighs, taking a moment to fully admire you laid out underneath him, eyes sparkling as you stare up at him, mouth slightly parted as you groan at the small tingles of pleasure starting up inside of you. 

“Wanna feel you.” The confession hangs in the air for a second, the trailing of your hand down his covered chest, fingertips tickling along the sliver of exposed skin above the waistband of his sweats, is what finally brings him back. His moment of admiration being broken as your hands slips past and gently grasps his hardened cock, the expected feeling of his underwear nowhere to be found because not only did Jungkook refuse to wear socks he also refused to wear underwear. 

Your eyes widen at his size, already a nice handful and slowly growing the longer you hold it in your palm. As you give him a small pump you feel the exhaled grunt he lets out fan across your skin, his eyes falling shut as he pants out your name. 

Jungkook gasps as your palm rolls over the head of his cock, thumb rubbing along his slit and dragging the beads of precum down his length. With a shaky hand he trails down your chest, slipping past your pants and underwear. A pleased hum escapes him as he feels how wet you are, fingers sliding along your folds, collecting your arousal before coming back up to circle around your clit. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, hips jutting up at the tiny jolts of pleasure that spark each time his fingers circle around your bundle of nerves. This was definitely not how you thought your night would play out, still partially thinking you’re dreaming with your roommate asleep beside you but each time you blink the visual of his face inches from yours only gets clearer. 

“How's this?” he whispers, eyebrow cocked up as he waits for a response, the tantalizing motion of his hands making your mind scramble once more, back arching up towards him as he applies a bit more pressure. Jungkook knows what he’s doing, the way his fingers find the right rhythm to leave you whimpering only to slow down right after, just because he likes the frustrated look etched onto your face. 

A pout forms on your lips, your hands tightening their hold on his cock as you give him the same treatment, and as you slowly glide your palm down and back up, fingers refusing to go near his tip he groans in vexation. 

“You’re not being nice.” Is what you manage to gasp out just before he picks up his pace once more, lips coming back down to yours in a hungry kiss, swallowing each moan as you let them out. Each pant through his nose is felt against your cheek as your own hands pick up the pace, the two of you working in tandem as the desperation starts to grow within you. 

Jungkook wishes he could see you fully, not cocooned under a mountain of blankets, and for a split second he wants to suggest pulling them off entirely but the way the cold nips at your faces kills that idea on the spot. This would just have to do until the power came back. 

“Ah shit,” he keens out in between sloppy kisses as your hands trail further down to fondle his balls, the beginning feelings of his climax creeping up embarrassingly fast. He couldn’t help himself, for months now he had wondered what it felt like to kiss you so this whole situation put his mind into overdrive. 

You were on the same boat, the warm sensation spreading throughout you as his fingers continue to pinch and roll around your aching clit. “Wait, fuck I’m close,” you whimper out, chest rising and falling rapidly as you pull away from his mouth, a small string of spit connecting you together. 

“Really?”

“Shut up don’t make fun of me,” you protest, gasping when he starts to kiss and suck along your neck. 

“I’m not,” he mumbles, his hips rutting into your palm, fingers fisting the sheets beside you. “I’m close too.”

The whiny tone to his voice has more wetness gushing out, further ruining your underwear and Jungkook feels it as he fingers glide against your skin. That's enough to spur him on, quickening his pace with just the right pressure until your limbs are tightening up, back arching as your free hand clutches Jungkook’s shoulder. 

“Don’t stop,” you plead, and he has no intentions to, smiling against your neck as your hand stutters along his length as the pleasure you feel coursing through you. Each roll of his fingers has you seeing stars in your dimly lit room, whines getting breathier each time until you’re finally coming undone with a cry of his name. 

Jungkook feels the mess you make against his fingers, gently biting your skin as he starts to rut into your palm, the small twitches your body makes as he continues to tease your sensitive nub only making his need to cum grow. 

“Y/N,” he mewls, pulling his hand out of your pants once you hum at your name, your palm trailing up his shoulder and into his hair to gently run through it. “Wanna cum.”

You bite your lips at his words, pulling your own hand out of his pants and he cries out at the loss of contact, face lifting up from your neck and the prettiest pout on his lips that you kiss away. “Cum, use me Jungkook.”

He eyes you for a moment, a subtle nod of confirmation being all he needs to slide down his sweats a bit until his cock slips out, a small sigh filling the air at being released from its confines. He licks his lips over as he grasps his cock, resting it along your core and sighing at the smooth feeling of your pants, the silk slightly cold against him, the small wet patch along it only making him shut his eyes. 

When you widen your thighs for him to slot more easily he starts to rut forward, leaning back over you with his palms beside your face once more. Jungkook pants at the sensation, the gliding of his cock against your covered pussy, the small whines you let out each time he nudges against your clit, it kickstarts his climax once more. 

“Feels good,” he grunts out, head bowing forward and pressing against your chest as he picks up the pace, hips knocking into you each time, beads of precum dampening your silk pajama set and mixing with your own arousal. 

Jungkook doesn’t care how needy he looks right now, humping you like a desperate teenager because that’s exactly how he feels. 

“Yeah, are you gonna cum for me Kook?” you whisper, caressing his hair until he’s looking at you once more, face screwed up as he teeters close to the edge. 

When he nods eagerly you hook both legs around his waist, his mouth dropping open as he moans out unabashedly. “W-wanna feel you fully next time,” he grunts, jostling your body from the force of his thrusts, your pants wrinkling up around your thighs. 

“You will,” you confirm, wanting nothing more than to actually feel his cock without the confines of clothes and blankets. “Once the power comes back.”

He chuckles at that for a second, smiling at you through the dull glow the candle provides but then his face twists up, brows pinching and jaw going slack as his hips grow sloppy. 

“F-fuck,” he drawls out as his orgasm washes over him, hips rutting against yours with less grace than before, spurts of his warm cum splashing along your pussy and onto the small patch of skin above your waistband as he works himself through it. You sigh at the feeling, cupping his cheeks as your thumbs soothe him down. 

Jungkook continues to rock against you until he’s whimpering in overstimulation, panting as he stares down at you with the dopiest smile. He turns his head to kiss at your hand by his cheek before bending down to press his lips against your in a gentle kiss. 

“Did we just get to third base?” he whispers against your lips after the two of you fully come down, laughing when you swat at his side playfully, your own laugh filling the air as he pulls back to stare at you once more. 

Suddenly your room fills with light, the two of you squinting at the brightness, the sound of the heater kicking back is followed by the warmth from the vents beginning to flow through. 

You don’t even have to look at him to know what face he’s making, your promise of letting him fully feel you once the power came back flooding his mind. “No Jungkook,” you laugh, pushing his face away from yours as he inches closer like a child. 

“Why not?”

“Because you ruined my favorite pajamas.”

He laughs freely now, kneeling up until the blankets slide off his body, his eyes staring down at your pants and analyzing the mess the two of you made. “I mean, you ruined them first.”

Okay he has a point, but instead of agreeing you simply raise your foot up and nudge it against his chest until he topples to the side, allowing you to stand up from bed with no fear of the cold attacking you. Jungkook smiles against your sheets as he watches you grab new pants and underwear before slipping into your bathroom, emerging a few minutes later with a pair of snowman printed pants instead. 

“You wanna go finish Legally Blonde?” he asks, head perched up by his hand as he lays on his side, that charming smile on his face. 

“It’s like two in the morning.”

He shrugs, not caring about the time at all, just wanting to spend more time with you, already knowing the two of you would most likely end the night having a discussion about more than obvious feelings after what just happened. 

After staring at him for another moment you smile too, reaching your bed for the same trusty blanket you hand earlier and wrapping it around your body. But as he stands up from your bed you extend your covered up out for him to join you, a smile of success gracing his face. 

“Wow, you’re actually sharing with me.” he coos, leading the two of you back out into the living room. 

“Watch it, I’ll take it back.”

Jungkook simply wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side before you sit onto the couch. “I know you will you cozy thief.”

[comfortbucky]

Hey! If requests are still open I was wondering if I could request a fluffy fic where reader is having a bad day and Bucky notices and cheers them up? 💗💗

HELL YEAH!!!

REQUESTS!!! ARE!!! OPEN!!!

𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗲𝘁 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚

pairing: bodyguard!bucky x fem!reader

warnings: anxiety, anxiety attack

tags: grumpy!bucky, bodyguard!bucky, fluffy bucky!!!

A/N: okay i have never written bodyguard!bucky before but i just thought it would be such a sweet concept to see him being soft🥺

sorry if the ending is kind of bad😭 i didn’t know how to quite wrap it all up, but i hope u enjoy!!!!!!!! <3 i had so much fun writing about bodyguard!bucky!!!!!

word count: 2.9k

my masterlist!

completed requests!

Y/N groaned as her phone alarm went off and hit snooze for the fifth time. She reached her hand out, head facing away and resting on her pillow, fumbling for her phone to turn off the incessant sound. Before she could shut it off, the noise stopped. Y/N turned her head slightly to see a large, dark figure in the corner of her eye. She turned her head fully to see her bodyguard with a frown on his face as he shut her alarm off.

“Your alarm, it’s annoying,” Bucky grumbled. “You should get up anyways, busy schedule today.” He walked out of the room before she could respond. Super soldier hearing was no joke if he was able to hear her alarm from his bedroom down the hall. Y/N sighed as her face planted into the pillow.

She was not looking forward to the events planned out for the day. During the day, there was a slew of interviews she had, back to back, and at night, a gala she was being forced to attend by her father.

Being the daughter of a wealthy tech tycoon had its perks for sure, but Y/N did not consider all of the press she did as a part of them. She never liked being in the spotlight but was forced to be, a birthright she had. Growing up with her dad, she’d developed a fascination for tinkering with computers, game consoles, and everything in-between. She spent a lot, practically all of her free time, with her dad when her mom had passed away. Her dad ended up throwing himself into his life’s work and she worked with him closely in the beginning, but slowly started to drift apart from him as she started to make a name for herself.

Earlier that week, her dad had sent her a text, informing her that a big announcement would be made at the gala. Big parties and large crowds weren’t really her thing, but it seemed like she didn’t have the option to avoid this one.

She got ready for the day, walking down to her kitchen to see her bodyguard, Bucky, sitting at the table, reading a book. As soon as he heard her come down the steps, he stood up and put his book away.

“C’mon, we’re already running late,” he mumbled, making his way to the door. Y/N rolled her eyes in response, grabbing a granola bar as she briskly followed behind him.

When her dad became a big name in the world of tech, the last thing Y/N thought she needed was a bodyguard, but her dad felt otherwise. It took one, very close call, of her almost getting mugged for her dad to immediately assign a personal bodyguard for her. She insisted that it was unnecessary, seeing that she was a fully grown adult, but her dad refused, as he was the one paying for Bucky’s salary.

Bucky had always been rather closed off since the beginning, and not much had changed since he was first assigned to her a little over a year ago. He kept their relationship very professional, only speaking when necessary and leaving the room whenever he wasn’t needed. She had tried to get him to open up more, learn about his past, but he always shut her questions down by either ignoring her or changing the topic to discussing something work-related. He was an enigma to her, which only left her wanting to solve the mystery that was James Bucky Barnes but couldn’t seem to crack the code.

Her first two interviews went smoothly, exactly what she was used to. A couple of questions about her current projects at work, some about her dad sprinkled in, and what she had planned for the future. It was a format she was used to and had come to appreciate, not exactly enjoying being the center of attention. During her last interview, however, she was caught off guard by one of the last questions she was asked.

“I know this might be an awkward question to ask, but I just have to! The people want to know: do you think your dad’s ever going to return to the dating pool?”

Y/N choked on her saliva. She knew her dad was an attractive man, seeing posts on social media of people fawning over him. Although she found it to be very weird and uncomfortable, she just brushed it all aside, not wanting to think about it as it only led to her thinking about the loss of her mom, a sore spot for her.

Y/N cleared her throat and forced out a chuckle. “I think that’s a question only he can answer, I don’t always know what’s going on in that crazy head of his.”

The interviewer laughed and proceeded to transition into the next segment. Y/N quickly thanked the interviewer and left, Bucky swiftly following behind. He had a feeling that something was off, as Y/N would typically stay behind to chat with the interviewer, crew members, even the service staff, whenever she finished an interview. It was always something he admired about her, how down to earth she remained, despite all of the privileges she had. She went out of her way to thank everyone on set, no matter how small their role might seem. He always told the drivers to pull the car up a little later than originally planned, just so she would have the extra time to talk.

Y/N pushed the doors open, only to find an empty street. She turned around and gave Bucky a curious look.

“Sorry, the driver just texted me,” he said, as he sent a text to the driver, telling him to come now. “He’s running late.”

Y/N nodded and leaned against the wall, looking down to fiddle with her hands. Bucky leaned against the opposite wall, facing her, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You okay?”

Y/N looked up at Bucky to find a gentle look in his eyes, slightly taken aback at the sight. She always found herself drawn to his piercing blue eyes, but they usually had a colder glint to them. This was a look she’d never seen before.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” she replied, averting her gaze down as she felt her cheeks flush at the sight of Bucky’s soft gaze.

The car arrived, cutting off Bucky’s train of thought as he was thinking of what to say to her. For a moment he debated on continuing the conversation in the car but figured she already had a long night ahead of her and didn’t want to push any further.

After a quick pit stop back to Y/N’s place, allowing her to change into an evening gown, the car headed to the venue of the gala. Bucky got out of the car before her, walking around to the other side to open her door. Before she stepped out, Y/N took a deep breath in and exhaled, plastering a fake smile on her face as a surge of flashing lights from cameras greeted her. Bucky watched, seeing her seamlessly transform from Y/N, the girl who needed to set a million alarms before actually waking up, to Y/N, tech extraordinaire, one of the most powerful people in the tech world.

Once they were inside the venue, Bucky stuck to his usual routine. Scope out the exits, look for any potential threats, and make sure Y/N was in his eyesight. Bucky kept close by but also kept his distance. He wanted to make sure that he gave her enough space whenever they were out, knowing that having him around was her dad’s idea and that she wasn’t too fond of having security detail in the first place. So he did everything he could to make himself blend in with the crowd, allowing her to roam freely, only following her when she moved out of his line of vision.

Y/N walked around, not knowing a single soul but making polite small talk with the rest of the guests. She became accustomed to knowing how to act at these types of events over the span of her adult life. Food, drinks, more food, home. Crowds made her uneasy, but she always felt calmer when she saw Bucky in her peripheral vision. Y/N would never admit it out loud, but over the last year, he had become a constant source of relief at these public events. Just knowing that he was there if she felt uncomfortable, unsafe, or wanted to leave early made her public outings much more bearable.

“Hey, sweetie! I’m so glad you made it.” Y/N turned around at the sound of her dad’s voice and smiled, moving in to hug him.

“Yeah well, you said you had a big announcement, so I figured I’d stop by,” she joked, eliciting a chuckle from her dad as they pulled away from each other.

“I’m about to make it now,” he started, placing his hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “And I was wondering if you could join me on stage for it? I know that’s not your thing, but it would mean so much to me, Y/N.”

While she absolutely hated the idea of having to stand in front of thousands of people, she reluctantly nodded. Y/N and her dad had slowly grown apart the past several years, only talking a couple times a month to catch up. With both of their busy schedules, they always seemed to miss each other. Despite their growing apart, she would do anything for her dad, especially if it meant so much to him.

Bucky slowly followed behind, as Y/N and her dad walked up to the stage. Y/N glanced behind her to give a slight smile to Bucky, to which he nodded back. He stood backstage, watching them from behind the curtains.

“Hi everyone, thanks so much for coming out tonight,” Y/N’s dad spoke into the mic. She was standing beside him, hands clasped in front of her, trying to look calm and not totally anxious.

“Since the success of my brand, people have said that I am a man who has everything. And I definitely have a lot to be thankful for, my company, my friends, and most importantly, my daughter.” Her dad extended a hand out to point to Y/N and the crowd cheered. Bucky couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips. Despite his brooding attitude, he had come to grow fond of Y/N, being able to see her for who she truly was. She was smart, witty, and had a heart of gold.

“The only thing I’ve been missing,” her dad looks down at the ground for a second, before looking back out at the crowd. “Is someone to share it all with.” Y/N’s smile faltered and felt her stomach drop. She couldn’t fully register the words coming out of her dad’s mouth.

“After Sarah, my wife had passed, I didn’t think I would be able to love again. Until I met Alyssa.” Y/N was frozen in place upon hearing her dad’s confession. She’d never heard of anyone named Alyssa during any of their catch-up calls and now he was saying he loved her? Y/N quickly turned as a woman walked out on stage. The woman walked over to her dad and he wrapped one of his arms around her waist before speaking.

“Now I feel complete, now I have everything.” He pulled Y/N to him and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, smiling for the cameras ahead. There were a lot of strategies Y/N had devised over the years to deal with potential unexpected and uncomfortable situations in a composed manner to avoid having a PR nightmare.

She didn’t have one for this.

Tearing herself from her dad’s hold, she ran off stage, heading towards the exit that led to the outside. Y/N took in the fresh air, trying to stop her hyperventilating. It wasn’t working. Her chest felt tight as she began gasping for air, struggling to take in oxygen.

She was having a panic attack. It was nothing she hadn’t experienced before, but it had been so long since she’d had one. The last time she remembered, was at her mom’s funeral.

Her mom. Her dad. Alyssa.

Her thoughts were pushed aside as her vision blurred, her eyes swelling up with tears. Y/N felt like she had no control over her body and shut her eyes, allowing the panic to consume her.

Then, a firm, but gentle, warm feeling in her hands.

Y/N blinked her eyes open to reveal Bucky, standing in front of her. She looked down and saw that it was his hands in hers, holding them tight.

“Can you breathe for me, honey?”

His voice came out in a soft whisper, accompanied by the warmest and welcoming smile. She shook her head, unable to control her quick and rapid breaths. Bucky squeezed her hands a little tighter, rubbing his thumb in small circles on the back of her hand.

“Yes you can, just breathe with me, okay?”

He started to breathe in and out slowly and eventually, she was able to follow his lead, deciding to focus on his eyes. There was that look from before the ride to the gala, the gentle look in his eyes. She’d always felt that his blue eyes reminded her of stormy seas, but now, now they made her think of the calmness of the ocean in the early morning, waves crashing softly on the shores.

As she regained her composure, she realized she’d been staring into Bucky’s eyes for, probably, far too long. Bucky felt her tight grip on his hands loosen and reluctantly let go of her hands. He immediately missed the softness of her hands and how small they were in comparison to his much larger, calloused, hands.

“T- Thank you,” she stuttered out, her gaze locked on the ground, as she placed her hands to her sides.

“It’s no problem. I get them too,” he replied. She looked up at him as he clarified. “Panic attacks. PTSD from serving overseas.”

Y/N face drops, her stomach churning at the thought that Bucky had ever experienced panic like she had. She returned her gaze to the ground as a silence washed over them.

“He didn’t tell me about her,” she spoke in a quiet voice. “Never brought her up once. But I guess she must be pretty special for him to do all of this.”

Bucky stood a couple steps in front of her, seeing teardrops fall from her face. She lifted her head up to wipe away her tears, her hands shaking from anxiety. Y/N placed her hands on her face and started to sob.

She was slightly hurt by the idea of her dad loving any other woman than her mom but knew that he’d have to move on eventually. What hurt her the most was the fact that he didn’t tell her, not until they were on stage, standing before a crowd of people. It was too much for her to handle and she reached her breaking point.

Bucky’s heart dropped at the sight. He cautiously stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her tightly. Something his PTSD had taught him was how pressure from a hug could help relax the nervous system and calm him down. He held her firmly in his arms until he felt her breathing slow. She looked up at him, remaining in his embrace, her eyes glassy from crying, nose red and sniffly. Bucky felt his heart skip a beat and immediately pushed the thought away.

“You wanna leave, honey?”

She nodded in response, staying in his arms for just a second longer before pulling away. Y/N longed for his warm touch, feeling like a child who had their security blanket taken away. It didn’t help that it was also cold outside, sending a chill down her spine.

Bucky noticed and shrugged his suit jacket off to wrap around her shoulders. She beamed a smile at him and he smiled back.

The pair walked around the outside of the venue to find the car when they ran into a mob of paparazzi, shouting questions at Y/N about her sudden exit. Like a reflex, she grabbed hold of Bucky’s hand and he gave her a comforting squeeze as he cleared a path towards the car.

Bucky and Y/N were sat next to each other in the car, which was not the typical seating arrangement they usually had, usually sitting on opposite ends of the car. But Y/N hadn’t let go of his hand, not quite ready to separate herself from his warmth. Bucky had absolutely no problem with that, mindlessly rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. She felt safe. She always felt safe with Bucky around.

Y/N felt her eyelids become heavy, struggling to keep them open. She was exhausted from her long day, and her panic attack had taken most of her energy away.

Bucky felt a weight on his shoulder and turned his head slightly to see Y/N’s head resting there. He felt a warmth rush to his cheeks and smiled, resting his head on top of hers.

“Thank you for tonight, Bucky,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes closed. “You always make me feel so safe.”

Bucky felt a surge of tenderness rush through him. That was all he ever wanted to do. He wanted to keep her safe. He kissed her forehead, causing her to snuggle closer to him.

“Of course, honey. I’m here, always.”

[hajimine]

perennial destiny — fushiguro megumi x gn!reader

synopsis: megumi does not like the concept of soulmates. he wants to be able to choose who he loves—and he chooses you.

word count: 1.2k

genre: fluff, soulmate!au but not really, established relationship, soft!megumi (this is so cheesy fr)

soundtrack: on a clear day by joe hisaishi

a/n: i’m ngl i actually like this lol so i hope you guys do too! tysm @rintaroll​​ for being my beta and for the song rec mwah ily (ew) <3

A light smattering of clouds paint the blue sky in splashes of white, providing you with a little bit of shade from the otherwise bright afternoon sun.

You gaze at the little ducks waddling around on the pond, following their mother’s path. Unconsciously, you feel your lips curl up into a smile.

“What are you looking at?” Megumi murmurs, face turned towards you as he uses his hand to block out the sun from his eyes.

Humming, you give him a cheeky smile. “Nothing.”

He scrunches his face slightly, biting back a smile. He's used to your antics at this point.

Using his forearm to cover his eyes, Megumi sighs contently, shifting the position of his head on your lap to make himself more comfortable. The added weight on your thighs feel comforting, almost. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The two of you stay in silence for a while as you bask in each other’s presence, enjoying the moment. The dark-haired boy plucks a stray dandelion beside him, inspecting it closely.

“Do you,” he starts, hesitating. You hum, urging him to continue. “Do you believe in soulmates?”

You stay quiet for a while, pondering his question. “I think I do, actually,” you admit. “It’s kinda sweet—the idea of it all. I’d like to think that there’s someone out there who’s meant for me, y’know?”

Megumi closes his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering as he considers your answer. He's really pretty, you think to yourself.

“Don’t you think it’s a little bit dumb?” He asks finally.

The bluntness of his words takes you by surprise. You laugh, gazing down at him with a fond look in your eyes. There’s a small frown on his lips; the crease between his brows a little more pronounced than usual.

Carding your fingers through his hair, you watch as he relaxes under your touch, the tension leaving his shoulders bit by bit.

You settle on a simple question. “What makes you say that?”

Megumi sighs, “The whole ‘fate and destiny’ thing. I think not being able to live your life the way you want to is a little depressing.” He purses his lips. “What if you don’t like your soulmate?”

You turn to look at the ducks again, but they were nowhere to be found. Now, the pond was silent, and there were no ripples in sight.

The pleasant smell of earth seeps into your lungs as you breathe in. Never in a million years would you have expected to have this kind of conversation with him.

You didn’t exactly peg him as someone who would be interested in the concept of soulmates at all. A soft smile graces your lips.

“Well, I suppose there should be a system to prevent that,” you squint, “maybe they would make it so that it’s impossible for you to hate your soulmate.”

Megumi clicks his tongue. “That just makes us robots then.”

This makes you grin. “Robots?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, now shy. “If that's the case, you really have no choice in your thoughts and feelings, it simply strips your humanity away from you.”

You stop running your fingers through his hair for a moment and Megumi shifts, nudging your hand with his head to get you to continue. Cute.

Amused, you ask him, “Well, what if soulmates are real, and I’m not your soulmate, what would you do?”

He plucks another dandelion from the ground and inspects it before holding it close to his chest.

“It won’t change anything.” He says, not an ounce of hesitation in his words.

“Wouldn’t you wanna find your real soulmate?” You inquire, the flames of curiosity dancing in your eyes.

Without wasting a second, he sits up, turning around to face you. He studies your face for a second, eyes traveling down the curve of your nose and down to the slight upturn of your lips before returning to hold your gaze. 

Megumi speaks, eyebrows furrowed. “No. the fates or the heavens or whatever the hell is controlling our destiny won’t have any effects on my choices. I’m not about to be another pawn in the gods’ game of love. It’s the least I can do.”

And you laugh, light and bubbly; ignoring the fact that your chest feels abundantly lighter after his statement.

“You’re really serious about this, huh?”

His cheeks flare up, the headstrong confidence from a minute ago now gone, replaced by the charming bashfulness only a few have had the privilege to see. 

“Well,” he mumbles, “I’m not gonna leave you just ‘cause some prophecy tells me to. I like you. A lot.” Maybe a little too much, but he doesn’t tell you this.

The breeze tickles your face. “Yeah?”

Megumi refuses to meet your eyes, but he continues. “I want to spend the rest of my life with someone I chose myself. Soulmate or not.”

It is not his words that make your heart flutter—it’s the quiet blossoms in his cheeks, the sureness in his voice. If fate was a human, you’re sure that he’d fight her with no hesitation. Heck, even if she was a god, knowing Megumi, he would fight her too, even if it’ll cost him his life.

You watch him twirl the stem of dandelion between his fingertips. He doesn’t blow on it, nor does he make a wish like anyone else would in the presence of the perennial, he simply observes the flutters of white falling from its head. 

“So you would defy destiny if you had to?” You ask, knowing exactly what his answer would be even before he utters another word.

“Yes.” his dark eyes are steady, not a drop of uncertainty swimming in its depths. 

The soft breeze suddenly feels a little too warm for comfort. “That’s awfully romantic, don’t you think?”

And he blinks at you, but he does not yield. “Well, I just think soulmates are awfully unromantic.” He says, the corner of his lips twitching slightly.

A genuine laugh bubbles out from your chest. “You’re a curious one, Fushiguro Megumi.”

The smile on his lips is a fond one. “What about you?” He props his chin on the palm of his hand. “What would you do if soulmates are real?”

“Ah,” you pretend to think, “you’d be my soulmate then.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but the tips of his ears are dipped in vermillion. “But what if I’m not your soulmate?”

You spare him nothing but a glance, rising to your feet before brushing the dirt off your pants. As you squint at the setting sun, a contented sigh escapes your lips. On days like these, you could fully take in the beauty of the afternoon sky as you observe the shades of reds and golds dancing in the heavens.

“Then I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you to find my one true love.” You hum, biting back a laugh.

The dark-haired boy scoffs and stands up, walking towards you with his hands in his pockets. Half a smile graces his lips as he reaches for your waist, pulling you close. With the sort of tenderness he reserves just for you, Megumi rests his forehead against yours. He feels warm.

Megumi smells faintly of the earth—a product of the hours he spent sitting under the sun with you—along with a hint of the cool menthol shampoo he uses to wash his hair. And together, they create a blanket of comfort and familiarity, one that you’ve grown to call home. You breathe in.

“I won’t let you leave.” He mumbles, eyes fluttering shut. His palms feel comfortably warm on your waist; gentle and light, yet sure and heavy at the same time.

There’s a playful sparkle in your eyes as your lips curl up into a smile. “I know you won’t.”

per·en·ni·al /pəˈrenēəl/

(n.) a perennial plant

(adj.) lasting or existing for a long or apparently infinite time; enduring or continually recurring.

a/n: as always, reblogs are highly appreciated! please let me know what you think of this fic, i always love hearing from you all! also: yes, there’s another flower symbolism in this piece lol <3

-> writing masterlist  |  taglist is in the comments

[padme-parker]

Mizpah // the darkling x f!reader // ch 6

summary: given some time alone to think, the pieces begin to fall into place. you go to confront the darkling be he avoids you at any given cost, until one night you go into the one room you were never granted permission to enter.

warnings: cursing, talks about violence/torture and death, alcoholism

A/N: the truth finally comes out. This is all over the place bc I was trying to rush getting it out. 5.9k+ words and 12 pages later, here we are. not proofread, will comeback later to edit.

ANA KUYA’S voice echoed in the back of your mind as you laid on your cot, calling out for Mal and Alina as they ran away from her. It was the day Grisha came to the orphanage to find out if one of their own had been whisked away into a place like this. You examined the walls, cracks running up and down them. The windows barely opened, and when they did, they let out horrible screeches. Water leaked from the bathrooms, the annoying drip a constant on your mind.

Maybe you should’ve gotten up from your bed and got tested by a Grisha. Maybe then you wouldn’t have had to stay in such a run down orphanage. The Duke was rarely here, so no one really cared about his orphanage no matter how infamous he was. But being Grisha meant leaving Mal and Alina behind, something you couldn’t do because they had become your only family. Besides, Grisha don’t get sick, therefore you weren’t a Grisha.

You could never be a Grisha.

-

AS you phased into consciousness, you could hear someone muttering something in the background. Your hands were so cold, you reached out for something- anything that could give you warmth. You tried to blink away the blurriness of your eyes, nothing seemed to work. The person rushed to your side, clutching both of your hands in one as the other stroked your cheek.

“Go back to sleep.” He said, brushing your hair back. Closing your eyes, he assumed you had fallen asleep already. He resumed his mumbling, the words slowly becoming coherent as fell back asleep.

“It’s...too...soon..”

-

THE painful pounding of your heart had subsided as the Grisha left. Mal walked into the room followed by Alina, who was sporting a new wound on her palm that Ana Kuya had scolded her for.

“Come on, get up!” Mal urged, knowing from the look on your face that the pain had already left you.

“Where are we going?” You said eagerly, scooting to the front edge of your bed to lace up your boots.

“To the meadow.” That was all you needed to hear before running out the bedroom door. Mal and Alina’s footsteps padding behind. The three of you started a mildly competitive game of tag, the other two making sure you didn’t exert yourself.

In that moment, you were who you were supposed to be. Three children lying on the field, making stupid promises to each other.

“We can’t hide forever, but we can run.”

-

THIS time when you find yourself in a field, there’s a man laying next to you. It was the same man from your dream, shoulder length hair and clean shaven face.

“Aleksander?” He lets out a hm, awaiting your question. “Where am I?”

“What do you mean, my darling?” Aleksander- General Kirigan- or whoever the hell he was turned to look at you, laying one of his arms upon your stomach. His hand keeping a firm grip on your waist. From your peripheral view you could see him studying you.

He started with your eyes, taking in their color and your long lashes. He moved from the curve of your nose until he got to your soft, plump lips. You stared at the sky, afraid of what you would see, who you would recognize if you turned to face him.

“We’re at our meadow.”

-

WHEN you finally regain consciousness, you find yourself alone in a nearly dark room. Only one lantern had been lit up. It was just before dawn, you could see the sun beginning to peek out. Someone had changed you into a nightgown, you didn’t know who it was. Perhaps it was Alina or maybe the Darkling, maybe neither. Either way, you were thankful they decided to change you out of the robe you had fainted in.

With great struggle, you propped yourself up, your elbows taking the brunt of your weight. You crawled to the foot of your bed to put on your night slippers. The rug under your bed only went so far before it hit the cold floor. You slowly made your way to the desk, sitting yourself in front of the mirror.

The magic Genya had performed on you days ago had worn out by now. How long were you out for? The dark circles under your eyes had returned, seemingly worse. Your skin, although already dull, became more dull and pale. Whatever shine you originally had was gone. Your eyes look sunken in. While your hair was frail and also lost the shine that Genya gave it.

“Saints..” You whispered to yourself as you raked a hand through your hair. You were basically a dead person walking. You considered fetching a servant to bring you Genya, but decided against it. Throwing on a robe, you silently made your way to the war room, hoping to find the Darkling there. When you entered it remained empty, along with the bed he usually slept in. You walked the halls looking for one of his oprichniki, yet they weren’t around either.

There was no use in barging into his bedroom when it seemed like he was gone. Plus you didn’t want to invade his privacy knowing that he could have you killed for going into his room without permission if someone had seen you. You spotted one of the palace guards, walking up to him as you placed your hands into the pockets of your robe.

“Excuse me, do you happen to know where the General is?” You asked, staring into the guards eyes.

“He left a week ago, accompanied by his personal guards.” Was all he said, not disclosing why he had left. A week? Had you really been unconscious for a week? This usually never happened to you, not like this.

“Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“In a couple of days.” He said, not giving you an exact day. You quickly thanked him before making your way back to your room to change for the day. The dull ache of your heart was finally leaving, allowing for you to feel more like yourself. You were able to spot the sun in the sky as you finished changing. You thought about basking in its light when your stomach growled loudly.

I suppose I should eat, you thought. It’d been nearly a week since you were able to feed yourself, your last meal being breakfast. You could remember someone feeding you periodically throughout the week, now knowing the Darkling had left, it was most likely Alina. You rang for a servant, asking to be brought breakfast when she arrived. Surveying the room, you decided that the Darkling wouldn’t mind if you did a little retouching.

You moved the table towards the window, wanting to eat in the sunlight without having the harsh winter winds freeze you. Opening the curtain allowed for more sunlight to stream through, a grunt of triumph leaving your lips as you looked at your new setup.

The squeaky wheel of the servant’s cart alerted you of her presence, rushing to open the door before she could knock. You took the tray from her hands, closing the door with your foot as you skipped towards the table, eager to get some food in your system.

The food they had given you was practically the same, sweet pea porridge, a tall glass of water, and a bowl of grapes. It wasn’t your favorite, but you ate it anyway. Savouring the familiar crunch and sweetness of the grapes. Sitting in the sun had left you feeling giddy and warm, excited for summer when you would be able to go out whenever you could and feel the sun on your skin.

It was the same warmth you felt whenever the Darkling touched you, even when you saw him in your dreams, there had always been a lingering sense of familiarness-- and affection. You saw the look in his eyes just seconds before you passed out, the shock as you said his name, the concern visible in his eyebrows. Him whispering, stay with me, please. It was all foreign to you. In fact, his behaviour was strange to you.

You’ve always heard of the Darkling being cold, menacing, someone you had to fear. There were stories of him ruthlessly slaughtering the Drüskelle, using the Cut to separate multiple heads from bodies in a matter of seconds. Yet he welcomed you into his home without a second thought. He fed you, gave you clothing and a place to sleep, even gave you a tour of the Little Palace himself. You were sure he had never given someone the treatment that he had given you, so what made you so different? What made you so special to him?

You didn’t miss the look he gave you when you first entered the war room, recognition and longing bright in his eyes. He tried to hide the emotion, but you were able to catch it before he returned to his dark and empty gaze. It would explain the memories, but only fueled your confusion and curiosity more. Had you shared a past life with him? If so, why were you back? How were you back? Getting lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear the person knocking until they opened the door and announced themselves.

The familiar red hue of his kefta brought you comfort. You were too trusting lately, you’d only met Fedyor a week ago. Just the sight of his kefta had calmed something down in you. This palace was changing you, bringing out something from within you that never existed. Being this trusting on the fields would get you killed.

“Good morning, Fedyor. What brings you here?” You greeted him. This time you already had your boots laced up, the tray in your hands ready to be disposed of on the table by the door. “Going to escort me to combat training?”

“Actually, the General forbade you from stepping foot on training grounds again.” You let out a loud gasp as you whipped towards him. Thinking there was something wrong, Fedyor stepped forward, reaching his arms out to steady you just in case anything happened. In your anger, you slapped his hands away.

“Oh just you wait until he gets back,” You seethed, “Who does he think he is? Taking away my combat training privileges?”

“He’s the General, he can do that.” Fedyor responded, a small smile on his face.

“So what am I supposed to do then?”

“Well, you could still go to the library.” No, you didn’t want to risk running into the Apparat again. “Watch the Grisha train.” He offered a meek smile. “Walk the grounds.” Perhaps you could go on a horse ride later, but right now there was one thing on your mind.

“Is Alina training right now?” The heartrender gave you a nod, “I guess we’ll be going to her room then. She has something I want to borrow.” With the flick of your hand, the two of you were on your way.

“I’m going to ask you a question, and if you don’t want to answer then that’s okay.” Fedyor squints his eyes at you, before motioning to continue. “Has the Darkling ever taken up any lovers?” The question makes Fedyor stop in his tracks, a baffled look on his features.

“Well..I..” He struggled with his words, not knowing if he wanted to tell you. What would the General do to him if he told you? It was common knowledge that General Kirigan had been alive for a couple centuries now, he thought everyone knew of his endeavours. “The General has been around for many years, so naturally he has...had sex before.” The mention of it made Fedyor blush. “But he’s never settled down with someone. The closest I ever saw was with Alina.” This didn’t surprise you, Alina herself had told you about what had almost happened between the two.

“In the tent, when he tested her to see if she was Grisha, I saw something in his eyes. It was admiration, but there was also a defeated look in his eyes. As if he had given up on something because he found Alina. Reasonably, it could’ve been relief, since we had finally found the sun summoner.” Fedyor pauses, thinking wisely about the next words he spoke. “Alina and the General were growing close. Everyone saw the look they gave each other the night of the fete. But any public traces of their affection for each other had disappeared that night. The two are only seen interacting when he visits her for a gradual check-in.”

“And he’s never spoken of any other lovers?”

“Not consciously, no. On the very rare chance where we ride in the same carriage, sometimes when he falls asleep he’ll whisper about a woman. Moya dorogaya, he’d call her. That’s all I know.”

Moya dorogaya, my darling. It was the same name the Darkling had called you in your dream.

“May I ask you a question?” He inquired, you nodded your head, allowing him to proceed. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”

A smile so bright that could light up the room came to your face, “My friends down near the south Ravka border. A pair of siblings that taught me to fight before they defected from the First Army.” You confessed. “One of them also introduced me to my love of epic poetry.”

When Alina’s door came to view, you didn’t bother knocking as she had already left. After fetching what you needed, you quickly exited her room.

“I haven’t seen them since they left.” You rubbed the birthmark at your throat. Besides Mal and Alina, the siblings were also the closest thing you had to family. They considered you as their sister, even begging that you left with them. But you told them your place was here in Ravka, with Mal and Alina.

“I’m sure you’ll see them soon. Once Alina and the General get rid of the fold, we will have access to our docks again.” He said, trying to comfort you.

“I hope so.” The rest of the walk was filled with comfortable silence as you fiddled with the edges of the red book. As you neared your door, Fedyor stopped, telling you he would be just outside if you needed anything. Without wasting another second, you ran to the chair in front of the window.

The Istorii Sankt’ya glistened in the sunlight. Something about it had been calling out to you, urging you to read it and find out more. You flipped through all of the pages of the saints until you found the one that had been calling out to you.

Sankt Ilya in chains. Ilya Morozova. Morozova’s herd.

“One day. When the war is over and the shadow fold is gone, you will bear my name. You will become Mrs. Morozova. I swear it.”

The voice of the Darkling rang clear in your head. The memory made your heart come to a stop as you struggled to find a possible explanation for his words. The only conclusion you could inevitably come to was that you were the sole lover that Fedyor had been talking about.

As the sun began to set, you looked at the drawing once more. The stag, sea whip, and firebird all depicted. You called out for Fedyor, asking him to come into your room.

“Can you bring me dinner for two?” You politely asked.

“Sure, were you planning on eating it yourself or shall I fetch someone while I’m at it?”

“No. You and I are going to have a nice, long talk while we eat dinner.” His face paled as the words left your mouth.

“Oh...okay.” Was all he said before he scurried off to get the food. You tucked the Istorii Sankt’ya under a pile of paper in your desk to hide it. While you waited for Fedyor to return, you lit up some candles and lanterns now that the sun was going down. It was no fun eating in the dark.

Well, sometimes it was. You thought back to the orphanage. Night where you, Alina and Mal would sneak out of bed to have a piece of bread. The bread was never enough, but the excitement had always spurred the three of you on enough to make it a nightly routine until Ana Kuya eventually caught on.

When Fedyor returned, he rolled the cart over to where you had been seated. He placed a golden tray in front of you and another for himself right across from you. He also brought a big pitcher of Kvas for you to share.

Lifting the cover from your plate, you found yourself staring at some sort of meat pie with a side of root vegetable soup. Fedyor had the same meal but had pickled herrings instead of soup.

“Ugh, I don’t know how you eat that stuff.” You said with disgust. “I’m glad you guys don’t force me to eat that.” Although it was common peasant food, it never appealed to you. It was something you’d always hated.

“The kitchen staff have a strict list of foods you like and dislike.” That made your head snap up to meet his, who made the list? You had a scheming suspicion that it wasn’t Alina, leaving you with one suspect.

“Tell me, Fedyor, do you know what the General plans on using Morozova’s Stag for?” You inquired, feigning curiosity. You saw his hesitation, clearly uncertain if he could trust you. “I was, after all, one of the last trackers to spot it.” You reminded

“The stag is rumored to be an amplifier created by Morozova himself. Whoever wears it would hold the greatest power known to mankind. One that could rival the General’s.” He said, taking a bite of his meal before continuing, “He plans on giving it to Alina in order to get rid of the shadow fold. She’s strong, but not strong enough to get rid of it on her own.”

“What about you, do you believe they will be able to banish the fold together?” There had been a swirl of doubt pooling in you. The shadow fold was the one thing that had kept Grisha safe from the rest of the world. With the permafrost in the North and the mountains in the South, Ravka had practically been perfectly disconnected. Yet the Drüskelle and Shu still managed to slaughter Ravkans and Grisha alike.

“Yes, I do. It’s something very important to the General. That the sun summoner reversed what his ancestor, the Black Heretic, had created.” He explained.

“Right, we’ll then what happens after? It’s been so long since West Ravka has been able to connect to East Ravka. Who’s to say that they don’t want to create a monarchy of their own?” Fedyor paused at your words, he hadn’t thought much about what the West Ravkans wanted. He only knew how much his people longed to be free of the shadow fold.

“One step at a time.” He ensured, not sure if he believed the words he just said. He didn’t know what would happen if West Ravka decided to break off and become their own sovereign state. Whatever trade and weapons they had obtained came through the trading ports of the docks in West Ravka. Without it they’d have nothing. They would be nothing.

You finished the rest of your meal, occasionally talking about your time being stationed in the South while he talked about his Grisha adventures. When it came to an end, you helped him clean up and wished him a good night as he rolled the cart away. The pitcher of Kvas laid untouched, your fingers twitched at the thought of having a drink. You stared at it as Fedyor rolled it away, your throat begging for something to drink. Instead of giving into your urges, you chug whatever leftover water you had laying around.

As you got ready for bed, you couldn’t help the strong feeling of loneliness overcome you. You tried to push those feelings away when you jumped into bed, not wanting to have a miserable dream.

-

WHEN you wake, you find yourself in the deadly permafrost of the Fjerda-Ravka border in nothing more than your lace nightgown. The snow under your feet melted as you walked around, searching for another sign of human life. You didn’t feel the familiar nip of the cold at your fingertips or toes. It was that same warmth you felt with the Darkling.

You caught sight of your own breath as you whipped your head around, the snow catching in your hair. As you stumbled into a tree, you felt the recognizable carving, stating that you were now in Fjerdan territory. Your feet had walked on their own accord, not knowing where you were going until you stumbled into a clearing. The same clearing where Dubrov and Mikhael had died, slaughtered brutally by the Fjerdans. The clearing where you had killed two of their own without a second thought.

The clearing where you had finally found the stag.

The very same stag that had now stood in front of you.

You inched closer to it with careful and calculated steps. It didn’t back away as you approached. It showed no signs of aggression as you laid one of your hands upon its antlers, your other going to stoke its fur.

It was giving you that same look it gave you when you first encountered it with Mal.

Mercy. Respect. Most of all, understanding.

-

IT had been two days since you dreamt of the stag. You hadn’t dreamt of it since then, in fact, you hadn’t been dreaming of much since you saw the stag in your dreams. You thought about bringing it up to Alina during breakfast, but decided against it, the conversation somehow drifting towards the General.

“I was giving him a report of my progress last night-”

“Last night?” You interrupted, “As in a couple of hours ago?” She nods, confused by your behavior. “When did he get back?”

“The night you woke up.” She replied, as if you had been informed already. No one told you he had returned, you hadn’t even seen him once. Fedyor didn’t even tell you of his return during dinner. With a huff, you got out your chair, moving towards the door before asking Alina one last question.

“When did you mention me to the General?” She gives you another confused look, not knowing what you were talking about. That was the only answer you needed as you made your way to the war room.

He knew you. Even before he discovered Alina and took her to the Little Palace, he knew you first. Your thoughts ran around rampant and unprovoked, trying to come up with a viable explanation as you stomped towards his hall. Before you could even reach the doors of the war room, you were stopped by his oprichniki.

“The General wishes to be alone right now.” She said, hold up a hand to stop you.

“Tell him that I want to speak with him.” You replied, she looked you up and down. You wore no kefta or guards uniform. You were merely just a First Army soldier in her eyes.

“I doubt he would want to talk to someone like you.” Great, you were dealing with a Grisha Oprichniki with a horrible superiority complex. With a scoff, you turned away and walked to your room. Holding back every urge in your body to punch her.

-

WHEN night came, you found yourself struggling to get some sleep. After your encounter with that rude oprichniki, you tried your best to at least get a glimpse of the Darkling. You tried walking in the gardens in hopes to see him, no luck. You walked past the singular window of the war room, only to find the view obscured by the curtains. You paced the halls as subtly as you could, waiting for him to exit the war room. But he didn’t leave. Not once, so you just gave up and decided to try again the next day.

The black silk of your slip on did little to soothe the irritation you felt. In fact, it seemed to irritate you more as it slipped around even at your smallest movements. With a sigh, you got up from the bed and walked towards the dresser with the intention of changing into something that would provide better comfort.

You ran your hands through all the different laces and fabrics of the nightgowns until it landed on the gold kefta. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try. You took it off it’s hanger, before walking towards the mirror. You examined it closely. The fabric itself had shimmers of gold, the black thread similar to any other kefta. As you surveyed the back of it, you noticed the handiwork of a fabrikator. Someone had tried to mend the rips of the kefta, but they were still visible up close.

The kefta had fit like a glove when you put it on. It gave you a sense of belonging. That maybe as an orphan you had finally found a home. You ogled at yourself in the mirror, the golden fabric had practically made you glow. You placed your hands into the pockets, surprised to feel something in one of them.

Grasping the object, you pulled it out. It was a letter. Covered in blood, dirtied and ripped at the corners, but still a letter nonetheless. You contemplated reading it, making the motion to put it back into the pocket before a thought crossed your mind. It wasn’t like anyone was going to find out.

You opened the letter and began to read it:

Dear Aleksander,

My darling, I don’t know why the universe has continued to bring us together. But I am thankful that they’ve given us a chance to be together once more. I have loved you for all of my lifetimes, and nothing could change that.

At least, that’s what I thought. But you’re no longer the Aleksander I once knew. Something dark has taken over you, your lust for power consuming you. I don’t know who you are anymore.

That’s why I’m doing what’s necessary, you’ve been in power for too long. It’s time for you to stop. It’s time for Ravka to be whole once more.

I’m sorry. I hope with whatever love you have left in your heart for me, that you could forgive me.

Eternally yours,

Y/N

You froze as you saw your name signed at the bottom of the letter. Lifetimes? As in more than one? This could wait no longer. Shoving the letter into your pocket, you threw open your door. The halls were empty, his oprichniki were either on a break or a shift change. Either way, you didn’t care.

You barged into the war room, expecting him to be hunched over a pile of maps, but he wasn’t. The next place you looked was his sleeping quarters that had connected to the war room. This bed was empty too, the sheets still cold. You knew of one last place he could be, and didn’t care about the risks.

You walked towards his door, each step filled with the burning curiosity you felt. Placing your hand on the doorknob, you didn’t expect it to turn. You would’ve assumed he kept the door to this bedroom always locked. But then again you were the only person who would dare enter his room without permission. After entering his room, you shut the door. Not wanting to raise suspicion to anyone who might’ve walked the halls perchance.

You paid no mind to the layout and decorations of his room as you fervently searched for him, only to come up empty handed again. Where could he possibly be? Perhaps he went for a midnight stroll. Or possibly he left the Little Palace again. But before deciding on going back to your room, you were adamant on searching the entire ground for him.

As you made your way back towards the door, your eyes briefly flashed to the portrait above it. You were frozen in your tracks as you did a double take. There in the painting was you, depicted in the gold kefta you had put on mere minutes ago. Behind you was the General, who had one hand clasped around your waist, the other resting on your shoulder. The two of you smiling brightly, it had practically been one of the only other times you’d seen him smile.

The letter in your pocket felt like it weighed a ton, your mouth going dry. In your panicked state of mind, you didn’t notice the shadows jumping up and down the walls.

“My darling.” You never heard him creeping up on you until he started talking into your ear, his whisper making you involuntarily shiver. You could practically feel the heat radiating off of him.

Turning around, you didn’t expect to find his hair dripping wet, with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips. A blush formed on your cheeks as you tried to look at anything but him.

“Don’t call me that.” You spat out, he reached one of his hands out to touch the kefta you had put on. His touch lingered from the black stitching to the collar of the Grisha jacket, his fingers ghosting over your neck. “I’m going to ask you one more time, have we met before?”

The General saw no use in keeping the secret from you any longer; you had worn the kefta he’d made for you centuries ago, most likely read the letter in its pocket, and now you had just seen the portrait he’d hung up of the two of you. It was evidently clear that you knew something was going on.

“What do you remember?” He deflected, not answering your question.

Flashes came to your mind, ones you had dreamt, others were new.

“I remember...my death. The night those soldiers shoved a knife in me.” You confessed. You also saw other things. Horseback riding in the woods. Long nights in bed spent talking about the future. Him training you, teaching you how to wield a sword. The birthmark at your ribcage, the one on your neck, and the long ones on your back. They had all been scars. Marking all the deaths from your previous lives.

Three scars, three separate lifetimes with him. You reached up to touch the scar on your neck, “They..I-”

“This one, the Fjerdans gave you this one. We were hunting for the stag when we had gotten ambushed. They killed you for the sole purpose to see me in pain. I begged them to take me too, but they found too much joy in my grief. The Drüskelle held me on the ground, my hands spread apart, as I watched you bleed out.” You can see the tears form in his eyes as he recalls the events of that night. He walks around you, tracing the rips of the kefta. The rips had consequently been placed exactly where the scars on your back were. You could tell by the familiar pattern he traced, a once soothing action that now caused you great anguish. “The Fjerdans also gave you these ones. They tortured you for days on end. When I finally found you, it was too late. There was no healer that had the power to help you. All I could do was hold you as a heartrender calmed you, minimizing your pain.”

“I can’t remember that, why can’t I remember that?” You panicked, to which the Darkling turned you to face him, his hands cupping your cheeks as his thumbs rubbed your face in a reassuring manner.

“It’s not often that you fully remember what happens to you. It’s your brain's way of protecting you so you don’t get overwhelmed.” Well you certainly felt overwhelmed now. It was all too much to take in at once.

“The shadow fold..” You hesitated, removing yourself from his grasp. “Was that because of me?”

“Yes,” he confessed, “I created it after you first died. A way to protect all Grisha. I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand. But it was one less threat we had to worry about.”

“I don’t understand. Why me? Why is it always me? Why do I always come back to you?”

“There’s a reason why the universe has continued to bring us back together, my darling. My other half. My life.” He walks up to you, grasping your face in his hands. His touch was different this time, it was cold yet welcoming. It felt familiar. The shadows engulfed the room as you felt a power rush over you. His eyes darted towards your lips, hesitating before leaning in. You close your eyes as you feel that familiar warmth consume you. His kiss is soft, gentle, yet you could tell he was holding back from ravaging you.

He pulls away, resting his forehead on yours. You kept your eyes closed, lost in the memories.

“Open your eyes.” He whispered. When you had closed them, the whole room had been taken by his shadows, leaving the two of you in darkness. But as he stood in front of you, his hands on your cheeks, the whole room had been illuminated. “My sun summoner, I have loved you all of my life. For all of your lifetimes.”

“Maybe one too many.” What else was there to say? You always knew, somewhere deep down inside of you, that there was something special different about you. You didn’t know it until now, until you were reunited with your other half. “But I thought Grisha couldn’t get sick.”

The smile falls from his face, “I believe..that this could possibly be our last lifetime together.” He disclosed. “Neither heartrender nor healer could explain what was happening to you. I think it might be the consequence of avoiding eternal death for so long.” He joked, his eyes meeting yours.

“I thought your last life had been our final one together. I waited hundreds of years for your return. When I had caught wind of a sun summoner being found, I thought it was you. When it wasn’t I felt as if my heart had shattered all over again. That you would never return to me again.” The Darkling squinted as the light around you grew brighter. His touch was making you unstable.

“But Alina-”

“Can’t know. No one can. I can’t risk your life again. Not anymore.” He replied, “Especially when this could be our last time together.”

You struggled to find a name to call him, the General felt too formal, and to you it seemed too early to call him by his given name.

“Aleksander, my darling. Call me by my name.” He said, withdrawing his hand from you and letting the shadows shrink back to the ground.

All your life, you had subconsciously fought the Grisha within you. You had always been Grisha. Using the powers you had been born with had given you back your strength, albeit not all of it. You enjoyed- reveled the rush it gave you.

“Aleksander,” His name left your lips in a hushed whisper, “..what if I want the stag for myself?”

-

Mizpah tags: @all-art-is-quite-useless @devilxangel @musicconversedance @parabatai-winchester @runawayolives​ @tartiflvtte @rbg1933 @thatguppienamedbae @batgal96​ @thebarisinhell99 @5hundreddaysofsummer​ @kaqua​ @queenseneschal @benbarnes-supremacy @princessofpersia96 @takethee @dontjinx-it @freakytillthemoon @amortentiaaaa @marvel-ousnesss @coolninjavoid @areomalfoy @pansysgirlfriend @universalirwin @leavejuliaalone @xx-winwin-wednesday-xx​ @honeyofthegods @lunamyangel @d-list-goddess​ @comphersjost @telepathdestiel @the-celestial-kitsune @thestoryofmylife9 @s-corpionem @pancakeisreading @sanna2020​ @secretsandtinyshadows @savannah-elliott @maliasblue @tea-effect @disneyandharrypotter @futuristicpinklemur @tanyaherondale @the-puff-is-strong-with-this-one @hxgreeves @yourboiialucard@thereeallink @ladyblablabla @wolfieellsworld @p3nny4urth0ught5​ @louweasleymalfoy @the-natureofme @itsloveroflife @oddlittleminx @within-thehollowcrown @itsfangirlmendes @heyyimlaynna @jgtfvhsg @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @auggie2000 @itsnotquimey @jtownraindancer @sonnensplitter @sarcastic-and-cool @poulterfilms @spookybooisa @stickyknightflowerbailiff @hollandsweetie @yungkvte @evyiione @2023-padfoot @kawaiimarshmallow @nikki-sixx-is-daddy @sanktawylan @blackbirddaredevil23​ @athenamikaelson​ @mellifluous-cosmos​ @mylittlecrazyworldofinterest​ @iiclarixa​ @lcandothisallday​ @agent-jbarnes​

Mizpah taglist is CLOSED for now!

S.a.B. forever tags: @deceivedeer​

[pleasantanathema]

Santa Daddy | Jean Kirstein x Reader

Pairing: Jean Kirstein x Reader

Rating: Explicit 

Warnings: Daddy kink, dirty talk, thigh riding, mutual pining, friends to lovers (or, rather, idiots to lovers), lots of holiday fluff

Word Count: 6k

A/N: This is my Secret Santa gift to @whats-her-quirk​ 🎄💕 June, thank you so much for being a wonderful friend; I was truly lucky and privileged to get you as my Elf for Secret Santa! I hope this fluffy (and dirty) little fic with our best boi Jean brings you some holiday cheer! 

           There were only a few things in the world that made you happier than watching Jean Kirstein smile. Like most of your friends, you’d met him through work, but there was always something so special, almost magical, about seeing his darling smile and hearing his boisterous laugh. And you rarely passed up on a chance to see delight spread across his handsome face, which is why you couldn’t say no when he asked you to join him on a get-a-away with your friends for the holidays.

           The inquiry came after you mentioned how you wouldn’t be able to make it home for the holidays due to a winter storm blowing in. It would be the second season in a row that the weather kept you from visiting home.

           You could still hear his voice in your head, “alone? For Christmas?”

           He’d then insisted you join him and his friends at Sasha’s family cabin. It was tradition for them, a gathering of misfits finding communion together out in the wilderness for a few days before the new year. You had taken trips with your friends before to amusement parks, festivals, even to the beach at Armin’s request, but something about being invited to an intimate setting to celebrate holiday traditions had you anxious.

           So, there you were, swaddled in blankets, listening to Eren bicker with Mikasa while Sasha and Connie bustled in the kitchen to make eggnog and treats. Armin had declined to join, citing that he’d seen too many horror movies about young adults alone in cabins to feel comfortable making the trip.

           And, true to form, Jean was running late. He was always late, his mind constantly moving a mile a minute unless he consigned himself to much needed rest and relaxation. Though, this time, you felt a little lonely while waiting for him on the couch, like there was a small part of you missing as you watched the snow fall outside.

           “So, none of you guys go home for the holidays?” You looked over toward the modest, plastic tree that Sasha had thrown down from her attic to bring a little holiday cheer to the living room, a few poorly wrapped presents and bags nestled under the branches.

           “Well,” Eren cleared his throat, “we are orphans.” He pulled at Mikasa’s scarf for emphasis.

           “Oh fuck, yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

           “Don’t worry about, he just always brings it up to get sympathy gifts.” Mikasa sighed, jerking the red cloth from his hands and scowling. Eren only laughed, brushing a stray hair from his face that had come loose from the bun at his nape.

           You sunk a little deeper into the cushions, eyes glancing out the window in hopes you’d see headlights flash in the driveway.

           “Do you think Jean’s okay? He should’ve been here a while ago and the storm is getting closer.”

           “Jean, Jean, Jean,” Sasha trotted into the room, balancing a mountain of sweet-smelling cookies on a plate, “you’re always worried about him.”

           “Someone should be, guy’s an idiot.” Eren chimed in, green eyes shining from the low flames rolling in the fireplace. He and Mikasa were sitting in the floor, a game of checkers spread out before them, with more stolen pieces resting near the cunning Ackerman’s side of the board.

           Eren wasn’t wrong, but over the years you’d known your group of friends, you’d noticed just how much the man in question had grown. In his early twenties, Jean had been quite the bumbling fool, having literally met you by bumping into your shoulder while leaving work, only to look at you and mumble “god you’re beautiful,” before issuing a quick apology as he rubbed at his neck sheepishly. You’d never mentioned the moment again, though your stomach still churned with a slight thrill every time you thought about it.

           But over the years he’d managed to turn that puerility into something much more charming. He was more refined, almost infuriatingly suave, easily gaining attention from anyone and everyone. And though you sometimes hated to admit it, he’d captured your thoughts as well.

           You kept your budding crush on Jean Kirstein close to your chest, not admitting it to any of your close friends. You always figured he was out of your league, seeing that he had a new, more beautiful girlfriend just about every other month. But, despite your simmering feelings, you still allowed yourself to get closer and closer to him over the years—some might say he’s your best friend, but you might call him your most treasured vexation.

           Another hour or so went by, your time spent nibbling at cookies and reminiscing with everyone about another year passed.

           Then the door finally opened, cold air gusting into the small living room as Jean stomped his damp boots on the entry mat.

           “Have you guys opened presents yet?”

           You glanced over the back of the couch, heart tugging in your chest as you noticed snow dusted in his long hair and a sizeable red and white polka dot package in his hands.

           “No because Christmas is tomorrow, or did you forget that too?” Connie said it with crumbs in his mouth, feet kicked up on the coffee table.

           Jean laughed, running a hand through his hair before wrapping the gift in his arms like it was something valuable.

           “I know, I know, and sorry I’m late, had something important to go get.” He smiled, bright and cheery, hazel eyes bouncing between his friends and the carefully guarded box, “I ask because…uh, this needs to be opened kind of soon.”

           “Is it perishable?” Sasha perked up, already ready to go make room in the fridge if something delectable was waiting as a gift.

           “I mean…you could say that? It may or may not be alive.” He was laughing, that kind of infectious laughter that had everyone in the room grinning whether they wanted to or not.

           Jean didn’t set the present down to even take off his shoes, instead tracking snow in with him and plopping onto the couch with flurries still on shoulders. He nudged your knee with his, pushing the present toward you. You pressed your lips together, hands getting sweaty as you pieced the puzzle together.

           “Is that…?”

           “Yeah,” his grin was pulling at his cheeks, eyes so sincere and happy and it almost startled you, “it’s for you.”

           The top of the box moved, the green bow popping on top of the polka dots.

           You moved the gift into your lap, pulling off the top to find perky ears and green eyes peering up at you—a kitten, grey and striped, with long, white whiskers and a pink bow around its neck greeted you with muted curiosity. You just stared at it for a moment, and it stared back, like you were both wondering just how it got into your lap.

           “I just,” Jean was getting nervous, carding his fingers through his hair again as he waited for your reaction, “I wanted to make sure you’d never spend another holiday alone, you know?”

           You carefully picked up the little cat, watching how it stretched and yawned as you pulled it from the carefully lain blanket inside its temporary home.

           You smiled, pulling the warm little bundle to your chest.

           “Um, Jean, this cat has six toes on her paws,” you said, pressing your thumb gently against one of the extra appendages in question.

           “Six toes?!” Sasha was jumping up from her seat, bounding over to kneel in front of you and pluck one of the kitten’s paws into her fingers. The cat quickly pulled its paw back, little black toe beans curling to its chest.

           “Yeah, it’s what drew me to her. She’s extra special…” you could’ve sworn you heard him mutter something under his breath, a little musing of “just like you,” but any hushed murmur was overshadowed by the ohs and ahs of your friends gathering around to look at the adorable little creature.

           The kitten had been lulled to sleep by the car ride from the shelter to the cabin, content to just curl up in your arms as inquisitive fingers prodded at her little kitten mittens and the silky, white tufts in her ears. Even Mikasa was enraptured by the tiny animal, taking the time to retie the little pink ribbon around her neck to make a bigger, prettier bow.

           You noticed how your friends were whispering, cheeky grins pressed against eager ears as they looked between you, the precious kitten, and Jean on the couch. You were starting to feel like you were missing something, or maybe that you were at the end of a joke you hadn’t caught on to yet.

           “Thank you,” you whispered to Jean after the fuss died down, everyone returning to their seats and back to their previous fixations.

          You’d mentioned perhaps wanting a cat a few weeks ago; it was just a silly, off-hand comment you made over coffee about how you’d once read that people with cats live longer because they pick up on the nine-lives of their feline partner. You didn’t believe it to be true, but you’d mused about the idea of having a cute kitten of your own to snuggle up with on lonely nights.

           “I know it’s sudden and a lot of responsibility, so if you don’t want her—”

           “No,” you cut Jean off, bundling the kitten a little closer in your arms, your heart singing as you felt her start to purr, “no, I want her, she’s perfect.”

           Jean finally started to get settled himself, standing up and shrugging off his jacket. He was in a tight turtleneck, coal black threads stretched to their limit across his broad chest and shoulders, hugging his trim waist. You were careful not to stare for too long as he stretched his arms above his head to shake off the weariness of his drive through the snow.

           He always looked like he stepped out of a fashion catalogue, fresh and so put together that sometimes you were tempted to snap his photo when he wasn’t looking; he just looked that good all the time. He loved to wear designer clothes and keep up with the latest menswear trends, and tonight was no different, that beautiful black turtleneck (that was covered in grey fur) undoubtedly belonging to a designer whose name you probably couldn’t pronounce.

           “What are you gonna name her?”

           He sat a little closer this time on the couch, a brawny arm outstretched behind you as he leaned over to scratch at the kitten’s chin.

           “I don’t know,” you admitted, gazing down at the serene, sleepy face in your arms, “I’ll have to get to know her first.”

           “Well, I’ve been calling her Frankie.”

           “Frankie?” You smiled through your confusion, the name sounding oddly right.

           “She was pretty wild in the car and kept meowing when Frank Sinatra was on the radio.”

           “I see,” you laid the kitten down into your lap, sweeping your fingers through her fur and watching as she curled up into a tighter little circle, “well, I’ll consider it.”

           You felt warm, heavy fingers brush against the back of your neck, Jean absentmindedly painting figure eights into your prickling skin. Heat flushed to your face as you realized just how close your bodies had become—his thigh was pressed against your own, dark jeans tight and hot, the scruff of his cheeks brushing against your own as he toyed with the sleeping cat’s tail.

           There were voices all around you, the muffled sounds of your friends relaxing together falling almost on deaf ears. Your whole world felt like it just revolved around this couch, like nothing else mattered beyond the simple touches to your skin and the drowsy kitten beneath your hands. He never wanted you to spend another holiday alone, you replayed his words, the sweet sentiment finally settling into your spirit.

_______________

           You could tell everyone was starting to get a bit sleepy, a few hours spent drinking spiked eggnog and chasing the new kitten around with a feather toy having left you especially exhausted. Your head was a little swimmy as you bid everyone goodnight, the grey tabby cat following closely on your heels to your bedroom where Jean had already brought in a litter box and a bed for her to sleep in. Jean, underneath all the designer bravado and smiles, was perhaps the most thoughtful person you knew.

           But despite the heaviness in your head, you couldn’t seem to sleep. You tossed and turned in the bed, occasionally picking up your phone to scroll through it or just watch the time tick by. You had a lot of thoughts mulling around in your mind, most of them revolving around the man sleeping just right across the hall.

           Never in a million years did you expect Jean to walk in with a beautiful, perfect kitten as a gift. The little thing was back to sleeping again, this time curled around one of your feet, each exhale a little purr against your toes.

           You’d carried the weight of this crush around for too many years. You rubbed your palms against your eyes, sighing as you came to terms with your feelings for Jean for what felt like the thousandth time. Your pining was starting to take its toll, too, what with the sleeping giant so close yet so far away.

           And you still felt like you were missing something.

           Throughout the night, your friends had seemingly been playing coy, teasing Jean about getting you such a big, sentimental gift. Maybe they had all caught wind of your suppressed feelings and were poking at Jean for even daring to indulge you. Now you were just getting frustrated with your thoughts, sighing as you tried to squeeze your eyes shut and force yourself to sleep.

           But then you heard a little sound, the soft buzz of your phone against the wood of the night stand.

           Jean: You awake?

           Your heart skipped a little in your chest as you saw his name flash upon your screen. You texted him nearly every day, yet he never failed to send a little jolt of adrenaline down your spine.

           You: Yeah. Can’t sleep.

           Jean: Me either. Cabin is too fucking cold.

           You: I have a kitty asleep on my feet, definitely helps beat the chill.

           Jean: A warm kitty sounds nice right now.

           Only a few seconds passed before the next message appeared.

           Jean: Wanna come keep me company?

           Your thumb hovered over the keyboard for a moment, your mind not even thinking about the words in front of you. Instead, you were picturing Jean in his bed, hair tussled with his own phone in his hand as he texted you, light spilling over his bare chest in the dark. You wondered what he was thinking—maybe he just wanted you to bring the cat over to see him for a bit, or maybe his mind was wandering in the same place yours was, which was picturing him naked beneath his sheets.

           You set the phone down, momentarily starting to panic.

           You hadn’t prepared for this, hadn’t prepared for the possibility that Jean might be asking you to come get in his fucking bed with him. Thank god you took a leisurely shower earlier—and you still smelled good, you checked.

           You stood up from the bed, watching the kitten stretch and quickly fall back asleep on top of the blankets. You bent down to slip on your pajama pants, but then found yourself debating if you should just leave the flimsy material behind.

           If this was what you were hoping it was, walking in without pants would send the “I got the hint, I’m here to fuck,” message loud and clear.

           But if this was just “hey pal come keep me company, I’m bored,” walking into his room in nothing but a shirt and panties could be quite awkward.

           You decided to hedge your bets, stuffing your pajama bottoms back into your bag as that lingering liquid courage from the eggnog set in. If worse came to worse, you could always say you forgot to pack them.

           You carefully closed the door behind you, making sure the cat didn’t follow.

           Then, it was literally just a few steps to Jean’s room. Conveniently, his door was cracked. Did he get up and leave it open for you? Did he always sleep with his door cracked? Or had he planned all along to ask you to come over?

           You shook your head, taking a deep breath. Those inessential thoughts needed to be quieted.

           The door creaked as you slid past it, the old hinges signaling your arrival and making Jean’s attention whip towards you. His phone was still in his hand, like was watching your messages and too-eagerly anticipating your reply.

           “Hey,” you whispered into the darkness, wincing as the door kept groaning as you pushed it shut behind you. You leaned against it for a moment, too nervous to just waltz up to his bed and fall in. You chewed at the inside of your cheek as you waited for him to break the silence.

           “Aren’t you cold?” He whispered back, shifting in the bed.

           His figure was illuminated by the pale, grey light from window, the snow clouds still keeping the moon suppressed in the sky. Like you’d imagined, he was shirtless, all those hard-earned muscles on display from where he was propped up on his elbows, sheets low against his waist.

           “I thought you were cold, Mr. No Shirt.”

           “You’re not wearing pants.”

           “I’m not wearing pants,” you parroted back.

           You watched the smile spread across his face, that darling, infuriatingly pretty smile that made you a little too happy in this moment.

           He pulled his sheets back in invitation, revealing that he, too, was not wearing pants, only clad in blue boxer briefs that were sinfully tight around his upper thighs, etchings of Calvin Klein pressed against his lower stomach.

           His hands were on you before you even settled onto the mattress, warm and greedy and pulling you flush against his body. All those worried thoughts you had before vanished under his touch, the message you had been missing suddenly loud and clear: you weren’t the only one hiding your feelings. All those veiled emotions came alive beneath wandering hands, your fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders as his found the flesh of your thighs.

           “Was this what you were thinking about when you invited me here?”

           You breathed in the smell of his warm skin as you settled against him, notes of his cologne still lingering against his body.

           “This is what I think about all the time,” he confessed, nudging his thigh between your legs.

           You couldn’t stop the moan that fell from your mouth as the muscles of his thigh pressed against your aching core.

           “Me too,” you were pulling his face down to yours, thumbs against his cheeks as you pressed your lips to his.

           A satisfied sound rang from both of your throats, lips melding and slanting against one another hungrily.

           “Why didn’t you say anything?” His words were lost within the kiss, being swallowed down as you kept drinking him in.

           “Why didn’t you say anything?” You echoed back, gasping as his hands slid underneath your shirt and began to wander across your belly, reaching up toward your ribcage.

           You both knew the answer to that: you were idiots, too scared to admit feelings even though they were clearly on display for everyone around you. But now the question didn’t matter, all the answers you wanted about to be shared between your anxious bodies with starved kisses and touches.

           You shamelessly pressed yourself a little harder against his thigh, sighing as your pussy found relief against his leg. He groaned at your action, moving his thigh back and forth a little bit to see how you would react. When you whimpered, your own thighs squeezing around his, he smirked, repeating the motion of sweeping his thick, sturdy thigh back and forth between your legs.

           “You like that?” His head was tilting down, teeth nipping at your jaw and down your neck as your head fell back against the pillow.

           “Y-yes, feels so good.”

           His hands were still traveling, wandering across your heated skin like he wanted to map your curves into his memory. He groaned against your throat when he discovered you’d also forgotten to wear anything under your t-shirt, his thumbs lazily brushing the undersides of your breasts.

           You felt like you were burning beneath his sheets, like he was painting fire against your skin with every touch. His large hands engulfed your breasts, carefully kneading and rolling your soft flesh in his palms. He was eager to kiss you again, to slip his tongue past your parted lips and get addicted to your taste.

           Jean pinched and pulled at your hardening nipples, greedily taking your little mewls into his mouth. He touched you like he already knew you, pulling at your body like you were the perfect little sex doll on strings for him to play with; rocking you on his thigh, tugging at your nipples, tongue dancing in your mouth, his hair tickling your cheeks, his cock hard and hot against his stomach.

           Your panties were getting more and more wet by the second, the soaked material sinking into your folds as you rubbed yourself against the downy hairs and rounded, solid muscle of his upper thigh. His boxer briefs were bunching closer to his hips, pre-cum already staining against the fabric where his cock was imprinted into the threads. You slipped your hand down his impressive chest, fingers dipping into the elastic of his briefs.

           “Oh fuck,” he groaned against your lips, pulling back to suck in a breath as your fingertips brushed against the head of his cock, “fuck you’re so hot riding my thigh like that, so fucking wet.”

           “You did say you wanted a warm kitty.”

           Your words had him pinching harder at your nipples, making you gasp as he chuckled.

           “Mhm I can’t wait to play with your kitty, make you mine,” he punctuated his sentence by bouncing his leg up, sending electric pulses of pleasure racing over your nerves.

           You responded by pulling his cock from its confines, wrapping your fingers around it and tugging at the silken skin. God he was thick, barely fitting in your palm as you moved your wrist up and down. You suddenly felt so small against him, realizing that he was dwarfing you just by lying next to you in the bed. His long, thick fingers could spread across the entirety of your chest, the thigh sliding against your pussy was enormous, but it felt like it belonged there; you could get used to riding him like this.

          You both fell into a frenzied, delirious rhythm, your bodies bucking and panting as you found bliss against each other.

          His hands slid down your body, leaving your tender breasts and searching for a new home. He found your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he rocked you back and forth against his thigh himself, using the strength in his forearms to have your pussy pressed down against him in the most perfect way to have you seeing stars and whining his name.

          “Gonna cum, baby? Gonna cum just from riding me?”

          “Fuck, yeah, yes, please, make me cum like this.”

          Your hand had gone slack against his cock, your mind almost unable to concentrate under the waves of pleasure building and coiling inside you.

          It felt too good to have his rapacious hands on your hips, grip mean and tight as he basically fucked you against his thigh. You wanted to scream, your other hand clawing at the back of his neck for stability.

          “Baby,” he breathed, peppering a few kisses along your cheek, “could…could you call me daddy when you cum?”

          There was a hesitancy in his voice, like he was ashamed to ask such a thing.

          Your lower belly clenched, heat racing across all your nerve endings like he’d just poured sin straight out of his mouth.

          You nodded your head for him, uncontrollable moans and gasps getting in the way of your own words. The thought of calling him daddy, that sent something wicked down to your pussy, had your fingers squeezing and tugging at his cock again and your eyes falling shut.

          It felt like your sanity was breaking, like reality was splintering and this wasn’t real—you were dreaming again, weren’t you? But then you felt his cock twitch in your hand, felt your swollen clit brush against your panties and his thigh, and you were thrusted back into the actuality of your situation. You were with Jean, he was groaning in your ear, and you were about to cum all over him.

          “D—da…,” you were choking, so overwhelmed with a final cresting of bliss that you almost felt like sobbing.

          But he just clutched you more tightly, pressed you harder against him, whispering your name in encouragement to let yourself go for him.

          Then, you lost all of your sensibilities, euphoria washing over your body as you snapped and came undone with a little whine of, “daddy,” against his lips. You slowed the rocking of your hips, your heart beating out of your chest, your pussy pulsing and clenching as you rode out the last remnants of your orgasm.

          “Holy fucking shit that’s so hot, you’re so hot,” he mumbled, one of his hands smoothing against your cheek.

          “Wha—,” you smiled, shaking your head as you caught your breath, “what are you doing with a daddy kink, Jean?”

          He mimicked your smile, hands moving to slide your ruined panties down your legs and removed the rest of your clothing as he repositioned your bodies. You let him move you around like a ragdoll, so delirious in your afterglow that you barely even registered how he was hooking your legs onto his shoulders.

          “Do you not like calling me daddy?” There was a seriousness laced into his tone that told you he’d drop it if it made you uncomfortable.

          “I like it,” you fisted one of your hands in his hair, bringing his lips to yours for a slow, messy kiss, “just didn’t expect it.”

          “I’m full of surprises, baby.”

          You felt the head of his cock nudge between your wet folds, his hands back on your hips where they belonged. Your head fell back against the pillow as he started to push inside of you, stretching your walls and making your toes go almost numb from the pleasure. You felt like you were splitting apart, like a fissure was forming down the middle of your body, stemming from where he was spearing into you.

          With your legs on his broad shoulders, he was pushing you into the mattress, his hands urging your hips to relax and let him sink into your warm heat.

          “Ohhhh fuckkkk daddy,” you couldn’t help but to whine, all your senses suddenly overwhelmed again. You were drowning in him, falling deeper and deeper into the throes of heaven with every inch of his fat cock slipping inside of you.

          “God you’re so tight,” he presses his forehead to yours, keen eyes watching how your lips were falling apart and your eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure, “that’s right, daddy’s going to take such good care of you.”

          It felt like all your history with him was being wiped away, like this moment wasn’t about two friends fulfilling all their years of mutual pining, but instead about a new relationship blooming between two bodies full of lust and desire. This was about Jean fucking you senseless, about him taking control and finally having what���s belonged to him for longer than he probably even realized. You wanted to lose yourself to him, lose yourself to his appetite and just let him devour you.

          All the air left your lungs when bottomed out inside of you, your walls clenching and sucking him in. He stayed still for a moment, nearly lost himself at the feeling of your cunt wrapped so tightly around his cock.

          “So fucking perfect,” he groaned, dragging his cock out of you slowly before pressing in again, your cunt greedily sucking him back in.

          “I always have been,” you teased, one hand lost in his hair while the other slid down the expanse of his back. You bucked your hips in his hands, coaxing him to keep moving.

          “Oh fuck. Good girl.”

          His praise made you feel drunk, liquid heat rushing to your ears and between your legs.

          He began to snap his hips, repeatedly burying his cock into your depths, the angle of your body making him hit that fleshy patch inside of you. You cried out at the feeling of being so stuffed, your walls burning from the intrusion but that coil inside your belly tightening again, hotter and more intense than before.

          “Mhmmm, such a good girl, I promise,” you pressed your lips to his in reassurance, letting your breathy moans fall into his mouth as he started to get a little rougher. His pace was steady, solid, a hard motion of his cock thrusting in and out of you, each push and pull full of purpose and passion. Every plunge was making your lower stomach spasm, making pleasure burst across your body so forcefully that you felt that urge to cry again.

          “Wanted to fuck you for so long,” his face was tucked underneath your chin, mouth trailing across your throat between his words. A particularly hard suck against your neck had your back arching, breasts flattening against his chest and your nails clinging to him.

          Jean sat back on his knees, big hands smoothing down your thighs as he looked to where your bodies were conjoined, watching how your pussy enveloped his cock with every thrust of his hips, sweet skin encasing all of his length. He looked enraptured by the sight, groaning and hissing every time he pressed inside of you.

          Then his eyes were flashing up to your face, softening as he took note of your blissed-out state, your face flushed and your lip between your teeth.

          “So pretty,” he mused, a palm ghosting up to your chest to toy with one of your tits as he found a new rhythm.

          You were ensnared by the scene before you as well, eyes wide with delight as you admired the man before you. Jean felt unhinged, electric between your legs, like he’d finally let go and was pouring all his clandestine secrets into your willing body. His chestnut hair was swept over his shoulders, the muscles in his arms and across his body rolling, rounded and thick like he was marble come to life. And his face was smooth, pretty, concentrated, cheeks dusky with a dark blush as he found euphoria from within your body.

          Your hips began to match his thrusts, bucking up into him in order to feel his thick cock fall deeper into you. His strong hands encouraged you, gripping into the supple flesh of your thighs as he pressed himself into your wetness, faster and faster with every thrust.

          “Daddy,” you called out to him, having to bite back a grin as you observed how quickly you earned his attention, “you feel s-so good,” your hand was traveling down your chest, trailing over his fingers on your breast before snaking down to your clit, “p-please let me cum again.”

          You had an inkling that he would take over for you.

          His thick, long fingers hovered over your own, carefully aiding in swirling over your aching clit. You hissed, recognizing the buildup to orgasm pooling within your belly.

          Jean’s other hand slid higher upon your body, fingers lacing around your ribcage, framing the underside of your breast. He began to forcefully pull your body into his, sliding you upon and down the sheets and upon his cock. You cried out, legs tightening at his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, begging him to devour you and take what he wanted. His thumb was almost impatient on your clit, now circling so quickly that your body was shaking, lower stomach clenching and unclenching repeatedly like you were lost in a reckless tide.

          “Shit, I’m not gonna last with you squeezing me like that, baby.”

          Your mouth watered at the thought of him finding that ultimate pleasure inside of you. Your ears became tuned to the chorus of resonances between your legs, the sweet, wet sounds of skin against skin, of slick at the base of a fat cock, of Jean grunting your name like a lost prayer.

          The final chord of your sanity was threatening to snap, you could feel it again, like he was pulling the strings of your body too tightly and you were going to splinter and break with just the right swipe of his thumb.

          “I-inside,” you mewled, unable to keep your eyes open any longer as your thighs began to quake, “daddy—oh fuck, fuck—cum inside me, please,”

          God you were so fucking close to falling off the edge, and he could feel it, using his grip to bring you even harder and faster down onto your cock to get you careening and falling again.

          Your push into oblivion came when you heard him pleading, almost whining, above you, sweat dripping down his skin as his syllables flowed together, “please, please, please, fuck, cum for daddy, cum for me, please.”

          You could both feel it, how you creamed around his cock, pussy sucking him in so deliciously tight that it caused him to lose all control. His fingers dug a little too deep, his cock throbbing and pumping deep inside of you with his release. It was like the world went quiet, like a blanket of snow fell onto your bodies and hushed your sounds and cooled your skin. You could feel the heavy weight of him inside of you, like he was meant to be there. Your body relaxed, feeling like you were sinking into the mattress and he was the only thing keeping you from being lost.

          When he finally pulled his spent cock from inside you, he wasn’t gone long. His hands were back on you again, pulling you in for simple, affectionate kisses and rubbing tenderly at the places he’d perhaps explored too roughly.

          “Jean…” you cut yourself off with a yawn, fatigued limbs winding into his own.

          His thigh found its home between your legs again, both of you groaning with a mixture of lust and disgust as you felt his cum drip into a mess between your thighs.

          “Whatever it is can wait until morning, we need to sleep.”

          “Oh fuck, it’s Christmas.”

          He nuzzled your cheek, lips searching for yours.

          “Mhmm, Merry Christmas, baby.”

          You laughed, laying your head against his chest.

_______________

          You weren’t sure how long you slept, but it felt like you spent a small eternity in Jean’s bed before your eyes opened again. When you awoke, he was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with the kitten in his arms. She was ready to play, striped tail swishing as he dangled a toy mouse just out of her reach.

          “What time is it?” You stretched, suddenly all too aware that you were still very naked beneath the sheets.

          “It’s only eight, everyone else is still asleep aside from Mikasa who actually went for a run in the fucking snow.”

          Jean smiled, hair tucked behind his ears, and you felt your heart skip a beat as you realized just how madly in love with him you were. You always aimed to make him smile, to hear him laugh, but to see him gazing at you in the morning sun with pure adoration shining in his hazel eyes had you practically melting into the bed.

          “I meant what I said last night, you know,” he said, turning the kitten loose to run across the bed.

          “You said a lot of things last night, daddy,” you teased, watching his cheeks turn a pretty pink at the mention of that name.

          “I meant about you never spending another holiday alone. Because, you know, I’d like to…” he trailed off, rubbing at the back of his neck like he was genuinely nervous.

          You sat up, running a hand down his arm before kissing at his shoulder, momentarily getting lost in the smell and feel of him.

          “Yeah, I’d like that.”

          No one was surprised that the two of you, and the kitten, spent every single holiday together thereafter, mostly naked, and always smiling.