#i like them all a normal amount that would be expected of ones relationship with background characters i am so unbelievably normal

[marcsnuffy]

I'm so late to the opossum thing (╥_╥)

bonus (italian) Ubers reaction

[puzzled-pegasus]

Do you ever just think about how awful it is to be a demigod before you know about it?

I've been thinking about it a lot lately. How much demigod kids and teenagers don't fit in with mortal society. Their mortal parents don't know what to do with them, even if they do care for them immensely. They are labeled as troublemakers, as bad kids, as mentally ill, as freaks and monsters who see things they shouldn't see and have an aversion to authority that they shouldn't have and a strong sense of justice and an inability to sit still, read, play, act, feel normally. Percy got in trouble for getting into fights, for speaking impulsively, he was mocked and spoken down to and expelled from lots of schools who couldn't handle him and he didn't know why until he was twelve years old. Sally wasn't able to tell him why.

Annabeth was the product of her father's relationship with a goddess, and he loved her for a while, but she wasn't a normal kid. When he fell in love with a mortal and Annabeth didn't get along with her or her kids, he chose the mortal side. How could he understand Annabeth's side? She was just a badly behaved kid, while his new wife and children were the normal good ones.

Jason always knew he was a demigod, he was accepted and praised and tons of expectations were placed on him from a frighteningly young age. Part of the reason the others resent him and see him as a sort of golden child is because he was placed on a pedestal and he will never, ever know what it was like for all of his friends to be looked down on as children, to be scolded for things they didn't understand and told that the things they saw and experienced constantly were not real.

Piper was always loved by her father but I think he loved the idea of her, he loved that she reminded him of the beautiful woman he met years ago. He was always kind to her and usually gave her things she wanted, but he couldn't always spend time with her as his job got busier. Piper sensed that her father's attention was occupied by something else, and as he got busier, she felt less supported and stole things and got in fights and her dad didn't know what to do with her after the BMW so she was sent to a troubled teen program where she was bullied for her disabilities and her race.

Leo feared his power because it killed the person he loved the most, and after that, everything in his life was hell. He didn't feel safe anywhere, he didn't have anyone he could trust, and adults saw him as a troublemaker who would never amount to anything.

The books don't emphasize these things as much with any of the other demigods, or maybe Annabeth, Percy, Piper, and Leo are the best examples we have. I just. They're so tragic. They're all my children all of them. I love them and I feel so sad for them

[mnnuni]

Domestic

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean's perspective of Sam and Reader's relationship; Sam and Reader are two cutie patooties Words: 1450 Warnings: none, very fluffy Author's note: I actually don't know if I love this or I hate it

A solid faithful relationship into the hunters' field was almost rare: if they were married they were either consummed for loss or full of affairs and if they had boyfriends or girlfriends they will fight for the distance or the different visions of life. And then there was the rarity, the true love cases, the one in which they would share their life of hunters as easily as a piece of bread.

Dean Winchester never really believed in those rareness, never really believed in love in general... that was untill he really saw Sam and (Y/N) together.

Their love started slowly, it was one of that things that people would say "we already knew" when they eventually announced their relationship.

Dean was convinced that Sam's heart decided from the very beginning of their story that he would beat out of his ribcage only for her in his entire life; Dean saw it in the way Sam didn't just pass (Y/N) the milk and sugar for her coffee for her second cup of that day on their first case together, but he put them in her mug while she read out loud some articles for Dean. Sam didn't put much thougth in that action, but when she realized (Y/N) blushed because he remebred the exact order and amount of products she used after only one time.

But Dean also knew that he approved of their relationship when it was him that proposed to Sam to pick the impala and take (Y/N) somewhere special, just because she deserved all the effort his brother could put in a date and even more. Sam wasn't so surprised about that because he also saw how Dean had grown fond of (Y/N), to the point she was the only girl ever that didn't receive the "hurt my brother and I will end you" speech but it was the other way around.

When (Y/N) confined in Dean one night he really wasn't expecting what she was telling him, after more than an year of being officially with Sam.

"I know he loves me" that was her premise, and Dean could have screamed "WE ALL KNOW" but he let her keep going "but sometimes i whish things were easier" at this the Whinchester quirked an eyebrow and Y/N started rumbling then "I'm not saying it isn't easy with Sam, I just want to say that ... there's never a period of peace in our kind of lifes and we all accepted this when we decided to be hunters, but sometimes I find myself of dreaming one night together without running from something or cleaning up eachother scars... I need normality"

Dean knew that this was also Sam's dream, his little brother wanted this since Stanford, but he also knew that both of them needed to hunt because that was what gave them the hope to make the world a better place and the adrenaline that every man and every woman would need to go throu life.

After this conversation with (Y/N), Dean almost ran to Sam to order him to organize something special for his lady; he wasn't surprised to find him already writing a list of things he wanted to do with her, "I know I didn't give her the right amount of attention these past weeks, shoul I go for a picnic or romantic restaurant?". Dean tried not to smile at his answer, even if he really admired how Sam could know how his girlfriend felt withouth even say anithing and his commitment to their relationship; "The picnic is cute, but not for this time of the year. No reastaurant. She needs something calm, be domestic dude"

He left him like this to think of something, he was sure his brother would have find the right thing.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day Sam was adjusting one of the bunker's biggest room, he bought a projector and a too big amount of movies -even if he thought that he could never do too much for (Y/N)-

He asked Dean to help him put her favorite couch in there and order a lot of her favourite snacks.

Dean was really proud of how Sam behaved with (Y/N) and for (Y/N), never saw him so whipped for no-one.

When (Y/N) got out of her shower, she was ready to jump into Sam's bed and sleep for two days if she could; instead she found Dean in the kitchen with a blindfold in his hands, "I promise, you will lovee what you'll see after this" he winked and then put it on her face.

"I swear to God Dean, if you're tricking me..." they were walking a pat she never did in the bunker "oh please you love me too" "if you think so...", Dean stopped her in front of a purple metal door and took the blindfold off "oh i know so" he whispered and then proceeded to walk away from there.

(Y/N) was left to wonder what the hell was going on when Sam opened said door and smiled "Hi", it had the same emotion he carried during their first date, (Y/N) smiled too and got on her tiptoes to give him a light kiss. He grabbed her hand and walked her into the room, she would have cried if she realized sooner everything there was in that room.

"You did all this for me?!"

It was clear in her voice that she was emotional in that moment and Sam hated the fact that she underestimated her value for him, "baby, that's nothing. Perhaps I should have done something sooner when I first started to notice you needed some time alone" "thank you". Sam smiled and gave her a kiss.

When they finally settled onto the couch (Y/N) was analyzing every detail there was in Sam's preparation: he put three blankets on the couch 'cause he knew he was too tall to tall for them both be covered entirely just by one and also added few pillows because (Y/N) loved the fluffy feeling of them while watching a movie; he made a little table with every kind of chips the market sold and four bottles of her favorite soda, on the shelf under it there were two or three packages of cookies too. Sam also organised something like fifteen movies, all divided by genre and number of stars (Y/N) gave them when they first talked about it.

Sam chose the first movie of the night -obviously a musical- and settled next to his girlfriend. She was so fucking happy about all Sam had done for her.

(Y/N) put her head on his chest while Sam's arm was around her shoulders, drawing figures on her arms to make her relax some more.

Dean snuck in after the first two songs of the musical and rested with one shoulder leaned on the doorframe to look at them: they were adorable. At first when they were on their honeymoon phase Dean felt the need to puke every two seconds, but now he loved to look at them from afar and be happy of their happiness

(Y/N) lifted her head to look at Sam: he was so focused on the screen,the lights of the scenes illuminated his face in a way that made his eyes sparkle.

"I love you", she whispered and Sam's face turned instantly. She still blushed when Sam looked at her that way, "and I love you".

Dean didn't see the kiss because he closed the door immediately after his brother said those words, that was another of the things that made Dean root for them: they never said "I love you too", like they had to say it just because or to not be in an embarrassing situation; every time they proclaimed their love for eachother they made sure to let the other know how much they actually loved eachother and how they really believed in what they said with that "I love you".

Sam and (Y/N) watched another movie and a documentary, they finished almost all the chips and sodas. After about the half of the documentary (Y/N) fell asleep snuggled up to Sam, who was massaging her head -he already knew that after one cookie she was about to pass out, so he made sure to get her in the most comfortable position and help with his hands in her hair to allow the sleep to finally set-

Dean never got back in that room, because he knew that they would have fallen asleep eventually. He made himself a burger and drank one too many beers, but it didn't matter because that night Dean too slept so well knowing that his brother and his sister were okay.

[random-thot-generator]

Try a Little Tenderness

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem Reader

Summary: Simon has just returned home in the middle of the night from a mission in less than stellar condition. Understanding that he was in desperate need of some TLC, you put aside the ‘frenemy’ dynamic the two of you usually operate within to take care of him, instead. Your gentle ministrations elicit a reaction that neither of you expect, but perhaps have been yearning for all along.

Warnings: Language, explicit sexual content, touching of naughty bits - Simon gets a helping hand in the bath, fluff and feelings, no Y/N

(A/N: This is a thot connected to an idea I had for a series. Still not sure about the series, but what ev. 

This is just me exploring the intimate relationship between the characters. It is minor smut compared to what I usually write, meant to be a vulnerable moment for Simon, and for reader as well. I dunno, I feel like a certain amount of trust needs to be established before Simon allows himself to be with someone in an intimate way. 

For a little backstory, Reader is Simon’s housekeeper/roommate/frenemy. It’s been platonic up to this point, but there have been some charged moments leading up to this. This is the turning point in the relationship, the first time Simon allows himself to really indulge in reader’s attention and care. Reader and Simon have been living together for about a year by this point but have known each other for almost two. Simon’s pet name for reader is ‘Doll’; reader’s pet name for Simon is ‘Grumpy’.)

Word Count: 2777

It was almost midnight by the time Simon shuffled through his front door. He was dead on his feet, still wearing the same clothes he put on three days ago, covered in filth and stinking to high hell. He would normally have stayed on base, cleaned up, ate and retired to his quarters to rest, but for some reason, he’d texted you mid-flight to tell you he was on his way back. He hadn’t been expecting an immediate answer, but he got one.

[DOLL]: What’s ur ETA? I’ll wait up 4 u. Have u eaten? 

Simon had hovered over his phone, glancing about the plane, not sure how to respond. He supposed he didn’t have to stay on base. He’d just never had a reason to return home before. He knew he should tell you not to wait up, to go to bed, that he would see you tomorrow, but instead he found himself tapping out a different message.

[GRUMPY]: Landing in twenty. Be home approx 2hrs.

[DOLL]: I’ll be waiting. C u soon.

He re-read the message several times. ‘I’ll be waiting.’ This was new for him, having someone to go home to, having someone there expecting him, waiting up to see him. Sure, he had come home to you before, but not like this. This was... premeditated.

As he closed the door behind him and locked it, he heard your feet padding through the sitting room and turned. He couldn’t help the smile that spread under the balaclava when he saw you. You were dressed in one of his old T-shirts, a pair of flannel sleep shorts peeking out beneath the hem, and a pair of those ugly fuzzy socks on your feet. Your hair was loose and hanging down your back, not quite dry yet from an earlier shower, and your face was free of makeup. He liked seeing you like this better than any other way.

You were looking at him in that direct way that always got to him, assessing him, checking him over. He waited for one of your customary snarky greetings, but instead your brows furrowed.

“You look exhausted, Si. C’mere. Sit down,” you instructed, pointing at the entryway bench. Simon didn’t even hesitate, just did as he was told. He watched you kneel before him and start unlacing his boots.

“Ya don’t got t’do that, Doll. I can―“

“Si, hush,” you murmured, your voice soft and gentle. “I got this, okay? You’re home. Relax.”

He didn’t have it in him to argue, so let you have your way. You removed his boots and stuck them under the bench by his trainers, then stood and held your hand out. “C’mon. You need a bath.”

He let you lead him up the stairs, but instead of taking him to his ensuite bathroom, you led him down the hallway to the bathroom that you used. You motioned for him to sit down on the toilet while you stoppered the tub and turned on the taps. He watched with curiosity as you opened the cabinet below the sink, taking out a glass jar filled with some sort of pinkish granules, sprinkling a generous portion of it into the filling tub.

“Wha’s that?”

“Epsom salts with lavender and eucalyptus. It’ll help ease your sore muscles,” you told him, replacing the jar in the cabinet. You turned to look him over again. “Let’s get you out of those dirty clothes. I’ll get you some clean ones once you’re in the bath. C’mon. Arms up.”

Simon thought about objecting. He was a grown man, he could undress himself, but as soon as he felt your hands on him, all complaints went right out the window. He held his arms out so you could pull the tail of his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans, shivering when he felt your fingers graze his lats as you peeled it up and over his head.

“I smell like shite,” he grumbled, embarrassed for you to be this close to him when he was in such a disgusting state.

You huffed, the sound low and amused. “You smell like a soldier who just got back from deployment. Believe me, I’ve smelled worse.” You motioned for him to stand again. Once he regained his feet, your hands went to his waist, undoing the belt and pulling it free, then you undid the button and fly of his jeans. You pushed them down until they bunched around his knees, then instructed him to lean on you while you tugged them off his legs.

And he just... let you. He had not had anyone care for him like this since his last stint in the medical bay, and that had been a male nurse with hands rougher than his own. He’d not had a woman care for him like this since he was a small boy, when his mother would get him ready for his bath. He felt his chest constrict, almost told you to stop, but your hand on the back of his calf silenced him.

“Foot up,” you said, letting him lean on you again as you stripped off first one sock and then the other. Once you straightened, you placed a hand at the small of his back and gave him a gentle push towards the tub. “I’ll go get you some clean clothes while you get in,” you said, then stooped to gather up his dirty things. “Be back in a minute.”

You left him staring after you, disappearing down the hallway. He turned back to the tub, eyeing the hot water lapping at the sides. Aromatic steam rose from its surface, too tempting to ignore. Pushing his underwear off his hips, he let them drop on the floor and stepped out of them, then climbed into the tub.

He groaned long and low as the hot water enveloped him, certain he had never felt anything better in his whole life. Closing his eyes, he dropped his head back on the edge, only then realizing that he still had on his balaclava. He hesitated for a moment, then reached up and pulled it off as well, dropping the dirty hood on top of his underwear. Fuck it. You’d seen his face before and hadn’t made a big deal out of it, didn’t even comment on it, really, just took it in stride like you did everything else.

He cracked an eye open when you re-entered the room, watching as you placed his clean clothes on the counter next to the sink. You opened another cabinet and removed some towels and a washcloth, glanced over at him, then opened a drawer and took out what looked like a pack of wipes and a squat, plastic jar with a pink lid. You brought it all to the tub with you and knelt by the side, near his head. You held up the pack of wipes and pointed at the black paint around his eyes.

“Figured these would help take that gunk off. I’ve got some cold cream, too. Can I...”

You wanted to touch his face. His mouth dropped open to say no, but then he closed it and swallowed. You were looking right at him, a normal expression on your face, not flinching away or averting your eyes. If it didn’t bother you, then he would allow it. For now. He gave a slow nod of assent.

You opened the pack of wipes and set them beside you, then opened the cold cream. “Lean your head back and close your eyes for me.”

Simon did as he was told, though his brain was sounding a klaxon alarm in his head. He was exposing his throat to someone, was closing his eyes and leaving himself vulnerable to your mercy. Did you see how tense he was? Could you see the muscles spasming as he fought not to move, to push you away, to fend you off like an enemy? Did you understand what this was doing to him right now?

Apparently, you did, at least to some extent. 

“Okay, Si. I’m going to put this cream around your eyes. It will feel cold, so don’t freak out. If you need to stop, just say the word. Alright?”

“Yeah,” he croaked out, waiting, steeling himself for the contact.

The first touch had him flinching, but he forced himself to remain still as you spread the cream around his eyes, working it in with your fingers in small circular motions. When you finished, you set the jar down and picked up the wipes. “I’m gonna clean all this off with these wipes. They’ll feel cold, too.”

This time, he only nodded, more relaxed now. Your touch had been soothing once he’d gotten used to it. It was... nice. He didn’t even twitch an eyelash when he felt the cool pressure of your fingers against his jaw, letting you tilt his head towards you. Your other hand began wiping gently at his face with one of the wipes. They smelled slightly floral, similar to the cold cream; he liked it.

It took several minutes to clean his face, neither of you saying anything. You were patient and methodical, cleaning away all the paint until none of it remained.

“Okay. Done with that,” you murmured, fingers moving from his face to his hair. “I’m going to wash your hair next, okay?”

“Hm,” he hummed in consent, not even bothering to open his eyes.

You wet his hair and then poured shampoo into your palm, working your hands together before placing them on his head. As your fingers curled and began to work his hair into a lather, Simon couldn’t help the low groan that rumbled out. It felt like heaven, the way your fingers massaged his scalp and neck. He could have whined when you stopped, but his breath hitched when he felt your fingertips under his chin, tilting his head back.

“Just need to rinse your hair, Grumpy. Keep your eyes closed.”

Again, he did as you instructed, not offering so much as a grunt of complaint when you rinsed his hair and then used the washcloth to dry his face. You raked your fingers through his hair, noting how choppy and uneven it was. Maybe he’d let you cut it some time, but for now, you would stick to what you knew he would allow.

“How ‘bout I wash your back for you and then I’ll go downstairs and make you something to eat while you finish your bath?”

He blinked his eyes open and stared at you. The steam and trapped heat from the bath were making you sweat, a light sheen making your skin gleam in the warm light. He had the sudden urge to run his thumb up your throat, collect the moisture beading there and taste it. He felt his cock give a twitch of interest below the water and brought his bent knees closer together. Grasping the edges of the tub, he pulled himself in to a sitting position, back bowed towards you.

Pleased to see him so cooperative, you dunked the washcloth in the water and grabbed your body wash, squirting out a couple of dollops. Working the cloth in your hands until you had a good lather, you rested one hand on his shoulder and used the other to slowly scrub the cloth over his back in large circles. You could feel the tension easing out of his shoulders, watched his head tip forward until he finally crossed his forearms on his knees and rested his forehead against them.

When you were done with his back, you didn’t stop, moving up to his shoulders and then down his arm. He leaned back, studying the way you washed each finger, working the cloth between them. You glanced up at him. “Other arm?”

He twisted around and held his arm out to you, resting his wrist on the edge of the tub. You washed it with as much care as you had the other, leaning over the tub to reach his underarm. When you went to slide the cloth away, he caught your wrist and pulled it to the center of his chest. He then closed his eyes and leaned back, letting his head rest against the edge again.

Slow circles worked the lathered cloth over his broad chest and collarbones, and you smiled when he tipped his chin up to let you wash his neck. A soft breath hissed between his lips as your hand dipped below the water’s surface to wash his sides and stomach, his brows ticking together when you brought the cloth back up. He shifted, his knees going wide to lean against the sides of the tub.

You were beginning to feel heat simmering in your lower belly that sent a blush creeping up your neck. “Do, uh... I can wash your legs next. If you like.”

He caught your hand in his, eyes still closed, and pushed it beneath the water again. “Wash here,” he replied, his voice like gravel in his throat.

You held your breath as he guided your hand down to his cock, let him wrap your fingers around its swollen girth and hold them there. His chest was rising and falling, chin tipping forward to rest on it when he felt you grip him tighter. Your lips parted as you gave him a tentative stroke, your breath puffing out in little pants as you watched him let out a shuddering breath, his eyes rolling open to reveal a lust-dazed expression before sliding closed again.

Your hand slid up and down his shaft in slow, even strokes, working him gradually, wanting him to enjoy what you were doing to him. His pleasure incited your own, and you could feel your panties grow damp with your arousal as you watched him slowly fall apart. He was panting now, head lolling back once more, hooded, hazy eyes staring up at the ceiling, his knuckles going white as they gripped the edge of the tub.

Your thighs squeezed together when a wrecked moan tore from his lips as you worked at him beneath the cloudy water, wishing it was clear enough for you to see him as well as feel him. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, the feel of his hot length pulsing in your hand almost too much to bear.

“Ah, fuck...” he huffed out, his back beginning to curl forward. He lifted his eyes to yours, mouth open and panting, a look of near desperation on his face. His hand came up to grip the nape of your neck, drawing you close until his forehead rested against yours, holding your gaze. His nose brushed against yours in an intimate caress, lips almost touching, the two of you sharing the same air. “Don’t stop,” he husked out.

The speed of your strokes increased, your hand slipping up to focus on the head, making his knees draw up as he tensed. You could feel him swelling in your hand, growing bigger and harder as he neared his release. His eyes grew wide, mouth falling open as his jaw went slack.

“It’s okay, Simon,” you whispered to him, “I got you,” and that was all the prompting he needed.

His grip turned into a vice on the nape of your neck as he erupted beneath the surface of the water, and he growled against your mouth, teeth gritting into a snarl as he pulsed in your hand. You didn’t stop stroking him until his eyes closed and grip loosened on your neck, his breaths puffing out in exerted gasps over your lips.

You let him rest against you, not bothering to move or say anything, wanting him to have this quiet moment, to just relax in the knowledge that he was home and safe, that you were here for him. You closed your eyes and let yourself enjoy the moment as well, relishing the quiet, the peace.

Simon’s eyes flickered open, not sure what to expect, only to find your eyes closed, lashes shadowing your cheeks, a gentle smile on your face. You looked so calm, so at peace. You looked... content.

You blinked your eyes open, startled, when you felt the hesitant press of his lips against yours, but you didn’t shy away, instead letting him feel you smile against his lips before you tenderly kissed him back.

[forever-rogue]

Hi, I love your blog so much it's amazing.

I was wondering if you could write some Joel Miller being jealous? Like they're in some kind of relationship but Joel doesn't want to put a word to it and arrive to some camp and a guy from there is trying to flirt with reader but she just has eyes for Joel, could be the first I love you confession from him, to make things official between them? Fluff because my heart can't handle anything else :').

AN | Jealous!Joel? Okay, okay, I see you!

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel Miller wasn’t a relationship type of guy; he hadn’t been for a long time and it seemed pointless to start now. And that’s exactly how you found yourself in a sort of relationship with him…a situationship if you will. 

He also wasn’t the jealous type either. You weren’t his girlfriend, or his partner, or what have you. You happened to be another person living in Jackson that he spent an inordinate amount of time with and had sex with. Lots of sex…he liked to think of it as stress relief. Yeah. That’s it - stress relief. Everyone could use some of that given the current state of the world. 

But, in conclusion, you weren’t anything more to him than anyone else. 

So why did he experience a definitely-not-jealous-feeling deep in the pit of his stomach when he saw you talking to one of Jackson’s newcomers?

He wasn’t jealous. No. Nope. Definitely not. 

He just wanted to strangle any man that talked to you, or looked in your direction. It was a totally normal reaction…or at least that’s what he tried to convince himself. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Joel?” you found him stalking through downtown and had rushed to catch up with him. You hadn’t seen him in the last couple of days and when you had he’d barely spoken a word or even graced you with a look. 

You could see his shoulders stiffen for a moment but he slowed his stride so you could catch up with him. You quickly fell into stride, but you could sense that he was in a mood. You nudged your arm against his and he grunted in response, “what?”

“What?” you parroted back at him, frowning in response, “or like what’s been up with you lately?”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” the man was stubborn beyond measure sometimes. You huffed and waited for him to expand but he refused to give in to you, “been busy.”

“Busy,” he refused to look at you, but he could feel you glowering at him, “we’re all busy, Miller. That doesn’t mean we don’t make time for each other.”

“You expect me to make time for you?” his twang came out as he stopped suddenly and you almost tripped over your own feet as you stopped as well. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, head cocked to the side. Your expression clearly said duh, “and just why would I do, sweetheart?”

“You’re being a jerk,” you pushed his shoulder, gently, although you doubted you could really do much damage to him, even if you wanted to, “last time I checked I thought we enjoyed spending time together. But over the past few days you’ve had such a-a bee in your bonnet.”

“Last time I checked I didn’t owe you anything,” and oh. Those words definitely stung, “we aren’t anything.”

“Oh wow,” you were hurt, but you weren’t about to let him know how much, “that’s rich coming from you. I don’t know what your problem suddenly is, but if you’re going to be a jerk, you can fuck off. And next time you need something, don’t bother knocking at my door. But if you decide to get over whatever this is, or want to talk to me like a grown man, you know where to find me.”

Your reaction had left him stunned; he knew you could hold your own when you needed to, but you’d never talked to him like that before. In that moment you definitely weren’t that soft, sweet girl he’d grown to love. Love. But he’d never admit it; truthfully he might not have even come to that realization just yet.

You stomped away, leaving him standing there and staring after you, a dismal expression on his face. He might have been a quiet man, but he wasn’t often left speechless. You’d just managed to do so.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You made it a point to avoid him over the next couple of days, figuring that if he really wanted to make things right he would come to you. You missed him, admittedly, but decided to throw yourself into doing things around town to keep your mind occupied. 

That’s how you’d gotten to know the newcomers to Jackson. There were a few women and teenagers, along with some men. For the most past, they were all kind and wanted to keep out wherever they could. 

One of the duties you least liked was being put in charge of one of the community gardens. You had a green-thumb adjacent at best, and didn’t want to be the only one responsible for any bad vegetables or fruits, so you had recruited Max, one of the newbies, to assist you. If you were going down, he was coming right along with you.

You liked Max, so far. He was around your age, handsome in a tall, dark, and roguish way, with a nice smile and good sense of humor. And, unlike men had done since the dawn of time, he didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. So, you had decided, he was going to be your friend. 

“You’re horrible at this,” Max laughed as you fumbled around with some tomato vines, trying to get the ripe fruit without destroying anything else, “how are you making this so difficult?”

“Shut up,” you groaned but it quickly turned into a laugh as you fell onto your bottom from how you were teetering and crouching. You managed to knock the whole plant down (sorry tomatoes), “oops.”

Max had dropped the small shovel he had been working with, head thrown back as he laughed, “and you’re clumsy on top of it. I’ll remember that for the future.”

You grabbed a small handful of soil and threw it over at him, “bold of you to assume that we’re ever hanging out again after this. You’re bullying me!”

“So dramatic,” he snorted in amusement as he brushed off the dirt and came over to you, offering you his hand to help you to your feet, “come on, I’ll let you bully me in return.”

You took his hand and he gently hoisted you to your feet. You almost stumbled into him, but caught yourself by putting your hands on his shoulders as his found purchase on your waist. You looked at him in surprise and he smiled softly, causing you to relax. He was so close, and pretty, and nice, and you could just lean in and kiss him. Max must have been thinking the same thing because he started to lean in too. A shiver of excitement ran down your spine, until-

“Get your hands off of her,” the two of you jumped apart at the sound of his very angry voice. Your face flushed with warmth, a combination of being caught red-handed and annoyance because you weren’t technically doing anything wrong. Max’s glance shifted over to Joel and then back to you, “now take a step back.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” you hissed at him, “why are you here, Joel?”

“Are you two…?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

At the sound of Joel’s answer your eyes widened in surprise as your jaw almost dropped to the ground. Max held up his hands in a sign of surrender as he started to slowly back away, “hey man, I didn’t know she was your girl.”

“Don’t worry Max,” you offered him an apologetic look, “I didn’t know that either.”

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you around,” he said sheepishly, “bye!”

He almost ran off, leaving the two of you there, the tension so thick. After a moment you turned towards him and shook your head. You weren’t quite sure what to say so you decided to just walk past him, but not before giving him a full glare, “you’re such a dick sometimes. First you shove me away like I’m nothing and now you act like I’m yours. How about I make the final decision? We, you and I, are done. Whatever you want to call it, it’s over. Maybe then you can figure out your own feelings.”

But the man wasn’t about to just let you go. No, that was not his style. 

His fingers wrapped around your wrist and his strong grip kept you from walking away. 

“Stay,” he insisted gruffly, causing you to pout in that way that always made his knees weak. 

“Why? Are you going to apologize?”

He remained silent and you could see that the answer to that was clearly no. You huffed as you pulled your hand out of his and started to walk away. He remained silent as he watched you go. He could have just said everything he wanted to and gotten it all out there but…he’d chickened out. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, “fuck.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You didn’t run into Joel again for almost a week. You wondered if it was partly him avoiding you or you just didn’t happen to cross paths. Jackson was only so big; you knew the truth. 

But as your feelings would have it, you really, really missed the man. He’d become such an important and vital part of your life and not having him around felt like you were missing a huge part of your heart.

When you decided that you couldn’t take it anymore, you made a plan to take matters into your own hands. You left your place and made the short trek over to his, knocking on the door loudly. He was home; you could see the light and if he had sort of sense, he would open the door. 

After a few long moments of buzzy anticipation, you heard his familiar footsteps come towards the door. He opened it slowly and his brown eyes widened when he saw that it was you. He was a mixture of confused and happy.

“What are you…?” he didn’t get the opportunity to finish his question, instead watching as you made your way inside, brushing past him and causing sparks to shoot down his spine. 

“Can we just talk?” you were already in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you looked at him softly. You couldn’t help it; you were a sucker for this man.

“Yes,” he agreed, coming in and mirroring your position on the other side of the counter. You wanted to be made, or at the very least annoyed, but you couldn’t find it in your heart, “I’m sorry for what I said.”

“Which part?” if he thought you were letting him off easily, he was so wrong, “the part where you said we were nothing, or the part where you changed your mind - unilaterally I might add - and decided we were something?”

“Both,” he pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh, “I was an idiot.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “you were. What changed your mind?”

“That kid,” you could see the tick in his jaw as he frowned deeply. Ahhh. Yes, you knew exactly what was going on; Joel Miller was jealous. He just wasn’t going to admit it in those terms. 

“His name is Max,” okay, maybe now you were just doing it to get a rouse out of him, “and he’s perfectly nice. He was just helping me.”

“He wanted to do a little more than help,” the man tore his gaze from you and huffed. 

“Joel Miller, you’re jealous,” your smile was practically stretching from ear to ear as you beamed at him, “just admit it! That’s what all this has been about?”

“I’m a grown ass man,” he sounded anything but, “I don’t get jealous.” 

“Okay, so you weren’t jealous just…something incredibly like it?” you asked. He shrugged dismissively in response but gave away no emotions or anything, “huh, that’s interesting.”

“It’s not, no. I’m not the-”

“I get jealous too sometimes,” you admitted sheepishly, hiding your face in your hands, embarrassed to admit it out loud, “when those women practically throw themselves at you. Makes me want to…I don’t know, show them you’re mine.”

“What are you-”

“You’re such a man,” you flopped your head to the side, “those women - and men - love you. You’re sexy, and smart, and lots of other things, but apparently so oblivious. But I guess that doesn’t matter though.”

“What do you mean?” he was leaning closer now and you could smell his familiar scent; it made you want to curl up with him and let him swallow you whole.

“You said we weren’t anything so,” ugh. You wished you didn’t get so emotional over this, “it doesn’t matter what I think or want. I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”

“I lied,” and it was oh so hard for him to admit that, “that day. I was just…mad - not at you. I just thought, when I saw you with all the new people, that you liked them and they were all over you, especially that one kid-”

“Max.”

“Max,” he didn’t like the taste of the name in his mouth, “I just figured you’d want someone like that and not me.”

“You’re a fool,” you shook your head in disbelief, “I’ve never wanted anyone but you.”

“I never…putting labels on things seems trivial,” he whispered, “how can what you mean to me be summed up with one word? I just never thought about it; it never meant you didn’t mean everything to me.”

"I…" you felt a prickling at the back of your eyes that caused you to try and blink it away, "do you mean that?"

"Yes," he reached over, hesitantly at first before settling his hand on your face  brushing your tears away with his thumb, "I mean it. You're very…important to me."

"You're important to me too," you put your hand on top of his and gave it a gentle, tender squeeze, "we don't have to put labels on anything. Just as long as we're on the same page about everything."

"You're mine," he promised and you felt yourself practically glowing. His words made you feel all warm and fuzzy, butterflies fluttering in your tummy. You nodded happily, "I know I'm not great with a lot of things but I do love you. I hope you know that."

"Hmm," you hummed as you closed your eyes contentedly, "I love you, even if you're a stubborn, tough man."

"Enough to accept my apology?" he had his answer already but needed to hear you say it. You rolled your eyes playfully.

"I suppose," you leaned in closer and smiled softly.

"Enough to let me kiss you?"

"Definitely."

[cupid-styles]

Ahhhh I need more hockey!harry 😍 I need a whole back story to how they met, when he started teasing her and for what reason and how they end up together. It’s soo good, I especially loved the jealous blurb, I need more! ❤️

ahhhhh thank you cutie!!! here's a blurb on how they met and got to where they are now

also tysm to cutie @harrysonlylover for this collage!!!! this v much represents their relationship <3

word count: 1.3k

content warnings: none!

masterlist | talk to me

hockey h x ballerina!yn masterlist

patreon

. . .

Things between Harry and Y/N weren’t always like this.

In fact, maybe in another world, they would’ve been friends. Even lovers, perhaps, but that may be pushing the envelope just a tad. They’re both third years, which means they started at the university at the same time. They attended all of those silly orientation meetings and events alongside one another (and few hundred others) that are designed to make incoming freshmen feel more comfortable, but in reality, just make things awkward and cringy. 

(Harry remembers visibly recoiling when he was told to come up with a fun fact, and they weren’t allowed to say anything about their majors or primary sports.) 

(He ended up going with the fact that he was born in London, which their orientation leader, Lisa, was far too interested in — an annoying amount, really. He thinks she tried getting with him at the bonfire that evening, but Harry was so exhausted he couldn’t even be bothered to pretend like he knew what she was getting at.)

But Y/N was in his orientation group, actually. Years later, he still remembers how strong her legs looked in her shorts and the way she tied her hair up with a velvet scrunchie (it was in the middle of July, and the heat was sweltering, sunrays pelting them straight into their backs and necks). He doesn’t recall what her fun fact was, but he does know that they were paired up for some dumb icebreaker activity. In an effort to get them better familiar with the campus, they had to do a scavenger hunt which, to Harry, felt like cruel and unusual punishment considering the rapidly increasing temperature. They were instructed to fill up their free, university-sponsored water bottles and get to work, returning back to the post before 5 pm, where they’d be having some sort of barbecue situation.

At first, Harry thinks she’s shy. Well, she is — she’s quiet and doesn’t say much besides a soft “thank you” when he offers to run her water bottle over to the refill station. She’s focused on the task at hand, though he can both tell that they would rather poke their own eyes out than do it.

“Let’s take a break,” Harry decides, not 20 minutes in. It’s mainly because his eyes zero in on a shady area on the quad, a semblance of shade offered by a large oak tree. Y/N, exhausted herself, doesn’t fight him.

She sits cross-legged in the grass, her posture near impeccable as Harry lays down, fixing his sunglasses into his curly hair. 

“Have you decided on a major yet?” Harry asks, desperate for some sort of small talk — normally, he doesn’t care for niceties, but the near-silence between them is killing him, considering how hot and bored he is.

“I have a ballet scholarship.” she answers simply.

“That’s cool,” he nods, though he doesn’t know a single thing about it, “I didn’t know this school was big on ballet.”

He notices the way she wrinkles her nose, eyes squinting slightly. 

“It’s one of the top dance schools in the country, only behind performing arts universities.”

“Oh. Nice.”

Y/N attempts to shake away his ignorance, head cocking to look down at the male laying at her side. “And you? What are you majoring in?”

And Harry doesn’t really mean it, but it comes out without him even realizing it. It’s just— no one’s asked him that in years, but only because where he’s from, everybody knows he was the top hockey player in the city, number five in the state. Nobody ever expected Harry to go to school to study anything because it was always known that he’d go for hockey. 

So, he snorts. He actually, physically snorts, and the look of apparent disgust is immediately clear on Y/N’s face. Parting his lips, he instantly wishes he can take it back, especially when she straightens her posture to sit up a bit higher.

“I’m sorry, I— I’m here for hockey,” Harry flounders, sitting up on his elbows. “I have a hockey scholarship.”

“And was I supposed to know that?” Y/N fires back with narrowed eyes. He shakes his head. 

“No, of course not.”

“Right,” she says, standing from the shady oasis and brushing her hands over her bum to get any grass off of it, “Let’s finish this.”

. . . 

Harry was wrong about Y/N.

He thought she was shy and quiet, maybe a bit mousy if anything. But no— it turns out, in the few hours that he’s known Y/N, if she doesn’t have a taste for someone, she’ll make it known. It’s not even in outwardly mean ways, it’s just passive aggressive, like dismissive hums at his every attempt at conversation, or him pointing out the ballet studio on their walk through the campus center. He even says “oh, wow, it looks beautiful,” hoping to pet at the excited, passionate part of her personality, but instead, she ignores him. 

She ignores him.

So when they finally finish the stupid scavenger hunt, Harry couldn’t be more eager to be done with it. He tells her he’ll submit the papers to their orientation leader so she can go fuck off and find whatever friends she’s made, and she does, without even a bit of arguing. It makes Harry sigh as he’s walking back to the big barbecue event in the quad. He feels bad for his cocky response — he didn’t even mean it, and it came off so arrogantly that she would probably forever associate him with it until they went their separate ways. 

He has a hockey thing tonight — the rest of the team that aren’t first-years are already back on campus, practicing and gearing up for the start of the season, so the coach invited him to come meet everyone — but he can’t shake how shitty he feels about someone already hating him. He decides he’ll offer an olive branch of cheese fries (he opts out of a burger or hot dog, just in case she’s vegetarian). He spots her sitting at a table in the same shady spot they were in earlier, two other girls by her side as they chat. From here, she looks happy, engaged in casual conversation with people she could’ve met today or known for years — he really can’t tell.

When he makes it over to their table, he expects Y/N to at least look up at him, some sort of recognition in her expression, but instead she just looks… confused? Bored?

“Hey,” Harry greets awkwardly, feeling that their conversation immediately took a pause due to his presence. He places the cheese fries down on the table. “I’m sorry again about today. I don’t want that to be your first impression of me.”

Based on her demeanor, he doesn’t expect a gracious response; if anything, a lackluster “it’s fine” would have sufficed. But instead, her eyebrow quirks and she cocks her head to the side. 

“I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

It hits Harry in the gut. 

He flounders, his lips parting open and closed like a fish gasping for air. He collects himself a moment later, pressing his mouth into a tight line. 

“You’re right. Must have confused you with someone else,” he replies with a clenched jaw. “Enjoy the fries anyway.”

His legs quickly carry him far away from the table and in the direction of the hockey arena and locker room. He hopes he can pull some skates on and at least shoot around a little, because if he ever has to see that girl’s face again, she’ll have hell to pay.

[dotster001]

When You Escape Him, Staff

Summary: Yandere staff x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you.

CW: yandere content, Stockholm syndrome, blackmailing, potentially ooc?, the void, implied previous injury,

A/N: It's finally finished! There are some spin off stories coming but they will not be weekly updates. I'll write them when I write them. Also, I know I said that I'd put out a poll for what series would get weekly updates, but I've gotten so many questions about Elder God, that I'm gonna do that one. Probably won't be Sunday's, but whenever I release the next part will start the cycle.

Heartslaybul Savannaclaw Octavinelle Scarabia Pomefiore Ignihyde Diasomnia Non NRC

Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.

"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."

You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.

Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own.

And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.

In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.

To this day, you had no idea how you had escaped. But you had, and you'd been able to smuggle yourselves off the island and far away.

Your son had started to display signs of magical ability when he was three. You hoped it stayed a miniscule amount, considering you'd heard some people were just magic sensitive.

By the time he was eight, you realized you were not going to be lucky. By the time he turned twelve, you were burning the flyers that the dark mirror magically sent out. By sixteen, you and your son were full on panicking about the scouts that might come by to observe him, and the acceptance letter that would show up at the house.

It was a completely normal day. You'd gone to pick up your son from school, when his teacher excitedly came out to meet you.

“I have amazing news! A representative from NRC came today to test a few of our students!”

You froze.

“S/N was one of the one's they called, and he's been being tested for hours now! He's a shoe in! You must be so proud!”

You nodded rigidly, a stiff smile on your face.

She led you inside, and to one of the teacher conference rooms. Up to this point, you knew there was a chance it wasn't him. If it was anyone else, you could bargain with them.

The door opened, and your hopes were dashed.

“Ah! Welcome, welcome! I was just telling our precious chick that he has a place waiting for him among the students of our esteemed academy! He's almost as powerful as his papa! I couldn't be prouder!” At the last statement, Crowley brushed away an invisible tear.

“And I told him that I have no interest,” your son muttered angrily as he stared down at the table.

Crowley didn't react to what sounded like not the first refusal your son had given, and patted his lap excitedly.

As though everything was normal and you'd just go back to the nest.

“S/N,” you said coldly, calling him to your side. It wasn't like you were alone. If you and your son ran, shouting along the way, surely one of the teachers would hear you and get help. Your son stood to walk over to you.

It happened in seconds. His golden eyes flashed in mild irritation, and by the time you reacted he had already entered your space, and hoisted you over his shoulders.

“I consider myself a very magnanimous person, but you are pressing my patience.”

You shouted obscenities at him, trying to fight your way out of his grip, but to no avail.

“Stop squirming, or I will have to clip your wings-”

“Leave them alone!” Your son shot a fire spell at Crowley. A field around him blocked it, but he gazed at his son in parental pride.

“Just like his papa!”

“YOU'RE NOT MY PAPA!” He screamed, a blaze of fire exploding from around him.

It wasn't his fault he'd lost control. But you had a brief moment where you realized that without the field around Crowley, that would have killed you. As it was, the room was ablaze, and quickly growing out of control, causing your son to forget his anger, and panic.

Crowley sighed, and set you down. He summoned his staff, and quickly doused the fire. Then he turned to your son.

“I am a very generous man. I can pay for the damages done to the school. Which, judging by what I am seeing, is extensive. However, you both must come back to the nest.”

Your son just stared at him.

“If I don't pay for it, how do you think either of you is going to be able to pay this off? Especially not when word gets out that you attacked the Headmage of NRC. You will spend the rest of your life in debt that will continue to grow.”

“You're bluffing,” your son spat.

He definitely wasn't bluffing. You knew exactly what lengths he was willing to go to. You couldn't look him in the eye, opting to stare at the floor as you whispered,

“We'll come with you.”

“No!”

“We don't have a choice. Trust me, I know.”

“Aw, don't talk like that, treasure,” he said happily, scooping you back up and nuzzling his cheek against yours.

Your son looked at you with heart broken eyes. But there was nothing you could do. You'd always known what it looked like when he'd beaten you.

He'd let you leave…

You never wrapped your head around it.

He'd let you leave. Watched you walk out the door with your son. Hadn't said a word.

And he hadn't come after you. 

It had been four years since then. You'd been doing as well as a single parent could do.

Any accounts you had created and hid from him, your government paperwork, your social media accounts; all of it was gone. The second you stepped foot out of his mansion, he'd canceled and frozen anything and everything you had in your name. You had started from square one.

But you were alive. And so was your son. You had found a job, and had built a small life for the both of you.

But this most recent set of bills was going to upset the delicate balance.

You stared down at the statements, and sighed. You wanted to cry. You'd fought so hard. But it all amounted to nothing. The weight of the world was crushing you, and it was all you could do to keep yourself from letting it show to your son.

An unknown number appeared on your phone. You picked up. Probably a debt collector. Maybe you could come up with an excuse.

“Are you done playing pretend? You're not cut out to be a stray.”

You stiffened.

“How did you get this number?”

“You're not in a position to ask me questions. How does it feel to be all alone? To bite your master, then get beaten by a wild pack of wolves?”

You stared back down at the bills, biting your lip.

“Nothing to say?” You could hear the amusement in his tone. It disgusted you, but he was right. You weren't in a position to fight him.

“What do you want?” You spat.

“I want you to admit you need me. That you can't support yourself and the pup, and that I'm the only one who is able to properly take care of you.”

“What the fuck-”

“I want you to tell me that you understand that a dog is useless without a master to care for it.”

“Gah! I'm not saying anything like that!”

“Alright,” he spat, hanging up before you could say anything else.

You angrily slammed your phone against the table. 

“What's going on?” You heard your son's sleepy voice say. You turned over your shoulder, and saw him rubbing his eyes, staring at you sleepily. He was so small. So innocent. He deserved so much more.

You opened your arms, and he ran into them, snuggling against you.

“Baby, how would you feel if Daddy brought us home?”

“Daddy?”

“Yeah. We got separated, but I think he found us. Which means-”

“Daddy could take us home?”

You felt bile rise in your throat. Home. Home was stolen from you forever when a certain alchemy professor had decided you were his. But maybe home would be different for your boy. And you couldn't take that from him.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

You redialled the unknown number, half expecting him not to pick up. But he did, immediately.

You put it on speaker, and after a moment of silence, you heard, “Well?”

Your son was faster than you.

“Daddy, please come get us!”

Crewel’s breath hitched, and his voice was infinitely more tender when he spoke again.

“Of course, puppy. Daddy's coming to get you.”

Your son looked up at you with excited, warm eyes. Maybe this was for the best. It would be selfish of you to keep putting him through this. He had a father who would give him the stars in the sky if he so much as looked at them a certain way. Meanwhile, you could barely take care of yourself.

“We'll be waiting,” you said quietly.

You half expected him to go back to sounding angry and disappointed. Instead, he released a soft sigh, and said in a voice so kind that it brought tears to your eyes, “I've missed you, love.”

Sam's "friends" used to frighten you. They were the one's in charge of keeping you quiet in the back room while he worked. 

Over time, you'd grown to tolerate them. They were terrifying. But they left you alone for the most part.

The day Sam had placed your son in your arms was the first time they'd spoken to you. You'd been alone, staring at your own hollow eyes in the mirror, reflecting on how you had to get this child away from him, when a whispery voice had hissed in your ear.

“We can free you.”

You'd refused to trade your soul, but you'd given up ten years of your life span. Over the years, they would update you if you needed to move. They would tell you what he was up to. They would hide you from new “friends” who would try to find you. 

It was your son's 16th birthday. And something was wrong.

The "friend" who had offered you the deal in the first place was missing. They were always around, except for when Sam needed them. It was odd for them not to be there. 

And you, yourself, felt weird. You'd woken up to a tingle in the tips of your fingers, and a disco party in your chest.  You gotten up to wake up your son, then prepared him a birthday pancake. You placed a candle into it, and were about to light it, when it lit itself.

“Hello, friend,” you muttered. “Is something wrong? It's not like you to be gone for so long.”

You felt phantom fingers detangling a knot in your hair, and a voice hissed in your ear, “We serve more than just you.”

They sounded…oddly defensive. But you couldn't think about that now, because your son had just stumbled tiredly into the room.

“Aw, you shouldn't have,” he grinned when he saw the pancake. He leaned in and blew out the candle, before sitting down and digging in. You sat down in the seat next to him, digging into your own breakfast, when your “friend” released a hiss.

Suddenly, in the corner, a dark void opened up, and out stepped,

“Sam,” you whispered in terror, as you stood from your spot. You turned to your “friend” who was moving to join him.

“Hello, little imp. Long time no see,” he grinned at you, his eyes glowing bright lime as the room filled with fog from the void.

“Wait, I had a deal!” You shouted.

“We received a better offer,” your “friend”’s voice hissed with merciless glee. “Don't worry, we returned your ten years to you.”

“Damn, I wanted to see you for so long. But now that I see your face, I'm absolutely disgusted,” Sam spat bitterly.

The smoke wrapped around you like unbreakable ropes. You struggled against them, but they only grew tighter, quickly feeling suffocating.

He walked up to you, gripping your chin in his hand.

“I paid quite the price for you. And now I just want you to suffer like I did.”

“Wait-” your son cut in, seemingly finally able to break out of his shock.

This brought Sam's attention to him, his eyes filling with love and adoration.

“And there's my boy! Can you believe I spent years thinking a fate worse than death had befallen you?” Sam said sweetly.

“You're scaring me. Cut out whatever it is you're doing, and leave us alone!”

Sam's eyes flashed back to yours, a staff suddenly appearing in his hand.

“No. I made a deal after all.”

He stalked towards you, and you watched in horror as various shadow creatures restrained your son.

“I had to choose. You or my son.” The staff came up under your chin, pressing uncomfortably into your throat. “I used to worship you. And you gave me nothing,” he hissed. Then he smiled. “It wasn't that hard of a decision to make, really.”

His lips were pressed against yours, cutting off your air completely.

“Goodbye, Y/N,” he breathed against you. He then shoved you, and you fell backwards into darkness, his hate filled glowing gaze the last thing you saw.

“Please, just, don't tell anyone about us. He's not interested in becoming a mage.”

It felt like you were pleading for your life. Because you were. Crowley had arrived at your son's school to scout students for the college. The second your son had gotten word, he'd called you, and you'd rushed to the school, prepared with a lie about a doctor's appointment you'd both forgotten. Crowley moved far too fast though, and had already found your son.

“Y/N. My employees' well being is of great importance to me!” 

“I'm sure he's fine,” your son groaned in the seat next to you. “I really don't want to be a mage. So scout someone else, and leave us alone.”

Your boy was a good one. But his downfall was his strong sense of justice. You had never intended to tell him the lengths Ashton had gone to keep you, but he'd been relentless. You hadn't told him everything, but the both of you were pretty certain he might do something bad if he ever met the man.

Crowley looked at you both in disappointment. You remembered that look. It brought you back to your Ramshackle days when you were asking him to install heat, and he'd made you feel like you were asking for a million dollars. But you weren't his student anymore. You weren't his slave. He had no control over you.

“It would be a great shame for someone of your abilities to waste them. And besides,” Crowley’s disappointed frown turned into a frightening grin. “Around this time of year, a certain physical education professor gets rather whiney, and makes it everyone's problem. Now, whose fault is that?” 

“He's a big kid. If he can't move on, that's his own fault. And if it's a problem, you can fire him,” you said bluntly, not going to feel guilted for what you'd done.

Crowley leveled a glare at you.

“I gave you a home. I gave you money. I gave you an expensive education, for free. I allowed you to keep your cat, and eventually your son. You owe me.” He snapped his fingers, and the mirror in the corner swirled to life. Suddenly, he was behind the both of you, yanking you from your seats, and shoving you through the mirror.

You both landed in a patch of grass, right behind a burly man in a memorable red sweatshirt. He hadn't noticed you yet. You pressed your finger to your lips, and pointed to the nearby woods. Your son nodded, and you both turned slowly.

Only to bump straight into Crowley.

“For Seven's sake, Ashton! Get it together!” Crowley snapped, causing the man of the hour to finally look over his shoulder.

His eyes widened, and he ran straight for you, wrapping you in a hug so tight that you thought your ribs might break. Again.

“Ashton,” you wheezed, feeling the familiar feeling of panic you always felt when he was involved. 

“You're so scrawny,” he muttered in your ear. You were always “too scrawny” to him. But of course it would be the first thing he'd say to you after so long of being apart. 

“I can't believe you survived out there,” he boomed loudly, holding you by the shoulders at arms length, looking you up and down with a jovial smile.

“Put them down!” Your son snapped, shaking you out of your fear momentarily. You looked over your shoulder to see him tied up in Crowley's “whips of love”.

Ashton’s eyes brightened even further.

“Ha ha! You look just like your old man! A few hundred pushups, and you'll be just as strong as I am!”

“Fuck you!” 

Ashton's eyes darkened, and turned back to you, reigniting your terror tenfold. His grip on your shoulders tightened painfully.

“What have you been saying about me, Y/N?”

You shivered in terror. You knew that look.

“I didn't-”

“You don't deserve our love, you monster!”

Ashton tossed you to the side like you were nothing. You winced. He never seemed fully aware of what his strength was capable of. He marched up to your son, snatching him from Crowley.

“Looks like we need to do some training, to whip ya into shape.”

He snatched you under his other arm, storming off in the direction of the school.

“Vargas! Your students!” Crowley called after him, but he was completely ignored.

You were thoroughly soaked from the rain outside. You stood before him, staring at the ground in shame as he silently sipped tea, and studied you. Eventually, he sighed, standing up and placing the baby in the bassinet in the corner of his spacious bedroom. He returned to his seat, and sighed again.

“To say I am disappointed would be an understatement,” Mozus said sternly. 

The door had been unlocked. In a moment of stupidity, you'd taken the chance to grab the baby and run. You hadn't realized that Trein had put up countless charms around the estate, including one that allowed the topiary knights to drag you back to him. If that wasn't enough, it was pouring. A mud puddle had been your undoing.

You dripped onto the floor, awaiting the speech and upcoming punishment.

“Look at me when I talk to you,” he snapped, and you quickly looked up. His face and demeanor were calm, but his eyes glinted in anger.

“I trained you to be a better spouse than this. What in the Seven's names were you thinking?”

He paused, seeming to wait and see what brilliant answer you would provide.

“I don't know,” you whispered.

“You don't know. Well, do you have any hints?”

You honestly didn't. Things had been peaceful recently. Up until the moment you ran out the door, you had convinced yourself you were finally able to be happy here. But seeing that unlocked door had stirred something in you. A final rebellion. A chance for your son, who shouldn't have to grow up under Trein's tyranny.

Now that you were under his scrutiny, however, all of that seemed to fade away. Instead, you were filled with embarrassment and guilt.

“I'm sorry,” you whimpered.

His glare softened into pure disappointment. Which, somehow, made you feel worse.

“Sorry won't clean the mud off my carpet,” he said tiredly. He looked you up and down, before pouring himself another cup of tea. 

“I know.”

“You know I can't leave this unpunished?”

“Yes.”

He looked at you, unreadable, before he nodded to the door.

“Go clean yourself up, then wait for me in your room while I decide on your punishment.”

You nodded, trudging towards the door. Then the baby started to softly cry. Instinctively, you turned the child. Trein's expression turned soft, more tender. 

“Go ahead,” he said, his voice full of love.

You picked up the baby, and made your way to your room.

[txt-trash]

former lover’s dance | choi yeonjun

summary: choi yeonjun is your average dance instructor in need of a place to stay. you’re a college student majoring in dance, there’s history between the two of you and when you find out you’ll be living together… the chemistry of dance seems to bring you back to each other.

➣ college. roommates. smut. exes.

➣ 10.5k words

warnings: smut. Yeonjun and oc are ex FWBs. roommates. Yeonjun is kinda cocky. oc does not acknowledge him that much. smut in the dance room. missionary. foreplay. unprotected intercourse. public sex. inspired by shoong! — Taeyang and LISA

As much as Yeonjun hates to admit this, he’s not at all surprised by the turn of events. Okay, scratch that, he’s very surprised actually—but not by the way you acted. You seemed to read each other’s minds when you decided to ignore each other and act like you had no idea who the other was. It made it easier for him to deal with this… surprise.

When he first ever saw an ad for a share house he thought it was exactly what he needed. He needed a space but he also didn’t want to pay the expensive price it would be to live alone and having roommates would at least lower the amount. He could survive with shared spaces as long as he had his privacy, right?

Wrong, very wrong, he doesn’t think he can mentally survive this unless he acts like you’re a complete stranger to him.

The problem is, Yeonjun is an asshole and he knows it. That’s why it’s very hard for him to hide his annoyed smirk when you introduced yourself, not bothering to even look at him, but it’s alright. He doesn’t care and if that’s the game you wanna play, he can play it a hundred times better.

“So what are you studying right now? You go to __ University right?” Beomgyu, one of the other housemates asked you. You were the last to arrive on move-in day but Yeonjun isn’t surprised, you’re late to literally everything. Now everyone’s throwing questions that you missed and you looked slightly bored trying to answer them all.

“Dance,” you said, “But I’m only a part-time student because I have a job too.”

“Oh! Yeonjun is a dancer too!” Mira pointed out, and you know she was only being nice and trying to form connections between housemates but it made you want to roll your eyes so fucking bad.

“Have you two ever met? The dancing community can’t be too big,” Beomgyu said looking between you two but you both shook your heads No and refused to speak more on it.

It wasn’t a mutual understanding of each other, it was a mutual disliking for each other.

You didn’t always completely hate Yeonjun but that was probably like two years ago and now everything the guy does just annoys you. The question is why, right?

Well… as embarrassing as this is to admit… the two of you hooked maybe once, twice [?], alright maybe three times before in the past. It was never anything serious, always late at night, usually drunk, a little too flirty, you know how it goes.

Anyway, you know that’s not a reason to dislike someone so you’ll explain what you can about the situation.

Personally, you need reassurance, validation, any sort of answer so that you don’t jump to conclusions and think something is going on when there’s nothing. Yeonjun isn’t like that, he expects you to know what he’s thinking and what he wants even if he doesn’t give you a single hint to what that could be.

That’s why when he came up to you at some party drunk off his ass accusing you of playing him, you had absolutely no idea what he was going on about!

Your hookups were sporadic and your texts few, so how were you supposed to know he wanted to pursue something when he never told you? Yeah alright, maybe you had feelings for him too but then time passed and you thought that was the end of your little rendezvous and moved on like a normal person would.

How were you supposed to know Yeonjun got a big head and expected you to initiate a real relationship with him when you didn’t even know that was something he wanted in the first place?

This is why you hate men.

But enough of that, that was two years ago and you’ve got a bigger problem on your hands:

You’re going to be living with him now.

The first couple of days it was easy for him to act like you didn’t exist. You were all still in the process of moving in and with his dance classes, he was a busy guy. Unlike you, he’s graduated already and on top of that he teaches dance at a local studio. He’s well known too, but he knows that it’s not just because of his dancing, it’s his looks too.

There’s a reason why so many of his dance classes are filled with girls asking if they can partner with him on choreography but he always says no. He has a certain dance style that doesn’t always match well with every dancer and not all can have that sort of chemistry he’s looking for in partners.

The last person he collabed with was… well, you.

He can say how much he dislikes you and he’ll mean it every single time, but he’ll never deny the fact that you’re a good dancer and when the two of you dance together it’s very hard to ignore the chemistry and tension there. Before anyone says anything, no it’s not just because you two were sleeping together at the time—hell, if anything that’s why you slept together.

Beyond the point though, the point is that he's done very well avoiding you and he hopes he can keep it up until the lease ends.

“Alright everyone get in position,” Yeonjun said as he rolled the short sleeves of his oversized t-shirt to his shoulders.

“Are you going to have a partner this time?” One of the dancers asked as they got in order for practice by the number they were given. Everyone was divided into smaller dance units based on skill and synchronization for him to further examine before they shoot their YouTube video.

“No,” Yeonjun answered as he played a song that they would be practicing, Shoong! by Taeyang and LISA. He’s going to teach them the basics today and next time he’ll go into more detail before dividing them all by either partner or trios.

He makes good money off of this, other than paying his dance studio fees, all the rest goes into his pockets and with his YouTube choreography videos and the fact that he currently teaches three classes, he clearly has the funds to live alone. He just thinks that’s boring.

A bird has told him that you also started teaching a class not far from him but he’s not interested in knowing more, he swears.

“Come on Junnie, I want a one on one,” one of the girls he taught stayed behind after class, “I really want to partner up for a video.”

“Sorry Jihyun, I don’t dance with my students,” Yeonjun said as he tried packing up, “Then it’s like I’m giving you favoritism.”

“Nobody has to know,” she said in a soft and feminine voice that had him smiling but not for the reason she hoped for.

“I don’t think so,” Yeonjun said as he closed his duffel bag, “Be careful going home, alright? It’s late.”

Yeonjun is not a changed man by any means, he still enjoys hook up culture but he’s completely barred off his dancers. He’s trying to be professional, he’s danced background for celebrities before and he’s hoping he could get those type of connections for the people he teaches. He doesn’t want to be one of those sleepy instructors who take advantage of all the pretty girls who dance for him.

And before anyone says anything, you did not dance for him. Sure, you’re a bit younger but still relatively close in age so when he met you it wasn’t like he was your dance teacher. You met attending another dance class and were partnered up for a song and things just clicked from there. It was never anything serious between you two so him sleeping with you is not the same as one of his girls coming onto him.

When he got home that night he was past exhaustion. He had a lenient schedule but after teaching his classes back to back, it was tiring. It was late already and he expected everyone to be in their room’s doing their own things but of course things never really go his way when you’re involved.

He rolled his eyes the second he saw you in the kitchen and went straight to his room. Yeonjun planned on staying there the entire night until his stomach growled and his snack stash was gone. With an annoyed huff, he left his room in hopes that you weren’t there but life sucks and there you stood.

Your nose scrunched in disgust but it wasn’t because of the fact that he clearly just got done with dance practice and reeked of sweat. He moved around you as he looked for something to eat in the dead silence that you two created on your own accord.

“Y/n, when did you get home?” Taehyun asked and your face lit up immediately. You’ve become school buddies ever since you found he was your junior—but only by a little. You went to school together and on the days you had class you agreed to go together.

“Just now, I got off work late,” you told him as he came over to see what you were making. It was a very sad excuse for ramen and Taehyun didn’t hide the look of sympathy he sent you when he saw it. He chose to turn to Yeonjun instead, “You just got here, too?”

“Yeah, I was teaching my class,” Yeonjun mumbled as he served himself a bowl of cereal.

“What song?” Taehyun asked. Unlike you and Yeonjun, Taehyun is interested in getting to know his housemates. He doesn’t have many friends aside from Kai so he doesn’t see why he shouldn’t try and get to know everyone better.

“Shoong!” Yeonjun said as he stuffed his mouth with Lucky Charms.

Taehyun smiled, “Are you doing a duet with someone?”

“Nope,” Yeonjun said as you turned the stove off and finished preparing your own late dinner, “Not everyone can comprehend what I want.”

Taehyun looked between you two, finding it hard not to notice that since everyone moved in, you’ve both been very closed off from each other. Call him nosy but that’s because he is.

“Maybe you just expect people to know what to do without actually telling them what it is,” you finally said and he is not at all surprised that the first thing you’ve said to him all week.

“Maybe people should just use common sense and context to know what I mean,” Yeonjun said and yes, he knows that at this point he’s just being petty but who cares. If that’s the first thing you want to say to him then he has absolutely no problem serving the dish right back to you.

“Common sense would be actually using words to tell someone what you want an—“

“Alright, alright,” Taehyun intervened with a nervous chuckle, “Um… I want to see the dance when it’s done but um, I think I’m gonna go to bed early.”

Neither of you reacted as you stared each other down, waiting for the other to look away first.

“So you’re done ignoring me now?” Yeonjun finally said and there was no way for you to ignore the sarcasm laced in his voice. It made you roll your eyes as you said, “Probably not.”

“You know you don’t have to act like you don’t know me,” he said and he knew he was being a hypocrite. He’s been doing the same thing, the only difference is that he’s called you out on it first.

You shrugged, acting indifferent, “You’re the one who said you didn’t care if I ever spoke to you again, like the drama queen you are.”

Yeonjun scoffed, no longer as hungry as earlier, “That’s because you started avoiding me.”

“How? Because I didn’t text you? You didn’t text me either, remember?”

“Actually, I did text you but you were too busy flirting with another guy at a party,” Yeonjun said, clearly annoyed now and ready to argue.

“We weren’t even dating,” you said with another shrug that made his blood boil at the thought being brushed off. With a scoff, he dumped his milk down the drain and stood next to you, “I didn’t think that mattered when you were in my bed the fucking night before.”

“First of all, who told you I was flirting with some guy?” You asked with furrowed brows clearly confused, “And why is it my fault when you never told me you wanted to get serious? I’m not a mind reader so stop blaming me—“

“You’re right, you’re right. I’m so sorry Y/n, nothing is ever your fault.”

He stormed off to his room and unbeknownst to you both, there was a very nosy housemate with his ear pressed against his bedroom door listening to the whole thing.

Okay, maybe you weren’t fully honest in the beginning. You know that you were equally to blame for why you and Yeonjun never worked out but you were also very different people when it came to expressing yourselves. He doesn’t feel the need to use words for assurance and you’re the opposite.

It’s a beige flag of yours, not green or red. You just don’t want to assume something without being told anything about it. Yeonjun never said anything so you never acted like you two were going to become anything more than what you already were. Still, it’s not fair for him to act like he was always very vocal about what you two had.

Plus, to make things clear, you and that guy Yeonjun said you were flirting with? Yeah, that’s just Beomgyu, your friend and he would know that too if he asked you instead of just listening to whatever a random person told him about you flirting that night. You just gave up on feeling like you should explain yourself to him when clearly he wasn’t listening to you at the time.

You just didn’t feel the need to explain yourself to a guy who clearly wouldn’t listen either way so in the end you let him think whatever he wanted to and dropped him.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Beomgyu asked you as you plopped down on the chair next to his. You were supposed to be meeting your friend in the library, not immediately being made fun of the second you sit down.

Choosing to ignore his obviously rude comment about your distress, you chose to say, “I just found out what my final is.”

Beomgyu gave you a dumb look waiting for you to elaborate. You rolled your eyes because sometimes your friend annoys you just by looking at him, “I have to make a dance for the summer seminar.”

“That’s easy though so why do you look so dumb?” Beomgyu asked and you leaned across the small coffee table filled with textbooks to smack him.

“It is easy but we have to do a collaboration for the dance and people must hate me in class because everyone partnered up and left me out,” you ranted to your friend who smacked his lips.

“They’re probably just intimidated because you’re so good,” he sent you a wink and although he’s trying to make you feel better all it did was make you think about those moms who tell their daughters that the reason every girl hates them is because they’re pretty and not because they’re a bad person.

You don’t think you’re a bad dancer by any means but you do think that you tend to close yourself off from everyone. It can come off cocky and arrogant when you prefer to stick to yourself and dance alone but you don’t mean it like that. You just don’t want to disappoint someone else so you tend to avoid doing anything as a group or duo. Clearly you bit yourself in the ass here.

“So what are you gonna do?” Beomgyu asked when his attempt at flattery fell on deaf ears.

“Well I asked if I could do a solo and the bitch said no because it had to be a collaboration but she did say if I find someone to dance with she’ll let me perform,” you explained to him, “And it can be someone who’s not a student but it would basically need to be recorded in some way so that it’s obvious I took part in creating the choreography.”

“You know who you can ask?” Beomgyu asked and part of you knew what he was going to say before he even said it.

“Yeonjun.”

“No,” you shook your head, “I haven’t danced with him in two years and we’re not on good term—“

“Yeah but you live together and he’s a choreographer too,” Beomgyu said, being the voice of reason that it pissed you off, “You two can hate each other all you want but when it comes to dancing you have a mutual understanding of what works and what doesn’t.”

“He won’t help me,” you tried to say but your best friend only rolled his eyes.

“Have you asked?”

With an annoyed smack of your lips you looked away from mumbling about how much you hated Beomgyu for possibly being a genius. You would need to ask your advisor if it would even work with Yeonjun and if she gives the okay then maybe you can try and ask?

You just don’t see him saying yes.

Yeonjun is annoyed, very very annoyed with himself to the point where he can’t even hide it. All of his students knew he was mad and they probably thought it was toward them but it really wasn’t.

It’s just that Yeonjun had a vision for this dance and it’s just not going the way he would like it to. He knows that it doesn’t have to be perfect but he wants it to be. He’s got a good YouTube following and out of all dances, if he fucks up this one then he knows there will be a lot of hate in the comments.

He can’t get Lisa’s part right no matter how hard he tries and he can’t expect the dancers to know how he wants it to be done if he doesn’t have someone to help him show them how to do it. He needs someone who knows how to appeal to their charms and move sensually and a bit hypnotizing to match the lyrics. He needs someone who he can dance with and be able to portray the exact story he’s trying to tell with this dance and it can’t just be anyone. If he chooses one of his random dancers and there’s a clear lack of chemistry then it’ll just look stiff.

He knows what kind of dancer he’s looking for but no way in hell is he gonna do anything about it. His only option is to be mad and postpone the dance until he can get it just right.

“So how’s the share house?” Soobin asked him as they went into a convenience store for some cheap snacks, “Wait, let me word it differently, how’s the share house with Y/n?”

“Fine,” Yeonjun said as he added a couple drinks into his basket, “We don’t talk.”

It’s true, aside from that time in the kitchen the two of you barely spoke. It probably had something to do with the fact that Kai is very obviously trying to probe you two into talking so his nosiness is cured but it was only making you shut off more.

Aside from his whole thing with you, he’s actually very content with his living arrangement. Kai is like a little brother that annoys him but he still likes hanging out with him at the house. Mira is a grad student in med school so she’s rarely home but she’s nice and quiet and always clean. You… sometimes you’re rarely home between work, school and avoiding him, he never has to worry about you so that’s a plus.

Of course sometimes it’s still awkward but that’s only because he’s seen what your body looks like completely undressed underneath him but he’s an adult, he can look past that.

Your little game of acting like you never met was short lived though since Taehyun was very quick to catch onto you two but he still doesn’t know why exactly you acted like strangers.

“Alright but how is not talking to Y/n working out for you?” Soobin asked and it made Yeonjun laugh.

It was two years ago, he moved on past that and Soobin knows this. The only reason why it’s being brought back up is because he hasn’t been this close to you in two years. Obviously he had to see you during that time because you’re technically in the same career path but he never had to actually interact with you. Living with you has completely changed that and he has to see you in the morning and night time so it does change things. He gets why Soobin is bringing you up but Yeonjun wishes he wouldn’t.

That’s why he’s laughing, it just seems ridiculous to suddenly make everything about you the second the two of you reconnected, “It’s just the same as it’s been the last two years.”

Soobin looked at him with narrowed and suspicious eyes but just sighed, “If you say so.”

Yeonjun was done talking about you as he carried his things to the checkout line.

When he got home that night he didn’t expect to see a somewhat familiar face in the kitchen.

The house was big, huge actually and it was normal for one of you to bring a guest over but Yeonjun hasn’t seen him since the last time he was at your place.

Beomgyu looked up at him with a jump as Yeonjun took his shoes off at the door. He waved a hesitant hand in his direction as he closed the fridge door holding your drink in his hand. Beomgyu cleared his throat, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Yeonjun said casually as he went over to the guy and greeted him like they were friends. In truth he has absolutely nothing against Beomgyu. They only met a couple times when he was hanging out with you and he thought he was a good guy. Of course when Yeonjun stopped talking to you he stopped seeing Beomgyu too but it wasn’t a loss of any sort. Beomgyu felt the same too because unlike you, he could see where you both made faults and despite being your friend it’s not like he had a reason to completely despise the guy. You can say all you want about Yeonjun but he knows that you don’t hate your old fling.

“Gyu!” You yelled with a huff as you got off your bed and walked downstairs to the kitchen, “Where the hell is my drink!?”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, “I’m not your errand boy if you wanted it to be quick you could’ve come yourself!”

When Yeonjun heard you he took it as his sign to leave but he still ended up meeting you at the stairs. You caught him by surprise when you spoke up as he attempted to walk past you.

“Did you just get home?”

It was so simple and yet he was so taken back by it that he nearly fell on his face when he tripped, “Me? Yeah, I went to the store.”

That was all you were going to ask him about and before he could ask you something in return, you were already leaving. He went to stop you but he didn’t know why, so instead he just left and acted like it didn’t happen.

Living with four people wasn’t as hard as you would think. Yeonjun wouldn’t even say he’s still annoyed to be living with you because you’re just his roommate and nothing else. You talk but it’s not about anything, only casual conversations in passing.

Taehyun always went to his room to bother him because they’ve become actual friends apart from housemates but he still can’t say the same about you. That’s why he was very surprised to see you at his door.

To make things more awkward, he’s just come out of the shower, and thinking you were Taehyun—he was just in his sweats. His hair was wet and dripping down on his shoulders and he was closing the door right in your face telling you to hold on.

You rolled your eyes at the shy way he acted despite quite literally being inside you but you couldn’t deny the blush that raised in your cheeks. Obviously this situation is very different though and you haven’t been in good words so you were fine with him slamming the door in your face to finish changing.

Yeonjun hurried to open the door back up, “What’s up?”

“Can I come in?” You asked, making him move to the side and let you through. You went in and immediately took a look at your surroundings. You’ve been in Yeonjun’s dorm before but this was very clearly different and that was a while ago anyway.

You pointed to his bed as if asking if you could sit and he nodded his head letting you go while he went to his desk and picked up his towel again. He had to finish drying off his hair and it would work as something he could fidget with while you talked.

He had absolutely no idea what you were going to say.

“I’m going to keep it straight with you,” you said, taking a nervous breath, “I need your help.”

“With?” Yeonjun asked with a confused expression. After being so petty toward each other you still weren’t shy to say you need his help? That’s what made him curious to know what you had to say.

“Ugh,” you groaned, “Well, uh, um…”

Sike, he thought, you’re definitely a little nervous to be asking him this right now and you still don’t know how to say it.

Yeonjun pretended to be annoyed, “Spit it out.”

“Ineedyoutodancewithme.”

“What?” Actually, he understood you clearly.

You rolled your eyes because you know he understood and he was still smirking in your face waiting for you to repeat it. Instead you said, “You're annoying.”

“You’ve called me worse,” Yeonjun with a shrug as he gave up on keeping distance and let himself fall back against his pillows and headboard, “Anyways, why do you need me to dance with you?”

You released an exaggerated sigh, “For the summer seminar, nobody wanted to collab with me—“

Your words were cut off as Yeonjun nearly spit on your face from failing to hold back his laughter. Without thinking you snatched a pillow and chucked at him—for a moment forgetting that the two of you didn’t get along anymore. He grabbed the pillow before it can hit him and set it down on his lap, “That’s because you’re a bitch to work with.”

“You know what? Fine, I rather fail this stupid final than beg you to dance with me,” you were clearly irritated but you couldn’t storm off like you so badly wanted to because he held your wrist to stop you.

He had a lazy smile on his face as he dragged you back to the bed and you would be lying if you said you’ve seen that look before. He chuckled, “Relax, I liked dancing with you.”

“So you’ll help?”

“Yes,” Yeonjun said as he let go of your wrist to sit up better, clearing his throat as he said, “And actually, this uh, this really benefits me right now.”

“How?” You asked him even though your insides were turning over from how happy you were. You can’t believe he actually said yes, and he’s perfect. Your professor will find credibility in him and she’ll see you create the dance with him through his video camera.

“I’ve been blanking so hard on the dance I wanted to do for a video, I’ve changed the choreo twice already,” Yeonjun said honestly, “I can’t get the girl’s part right and um, you know… I was thinking of asking you too.”

Ugh, you both nearly gagged because clearly time hasn’t changed the fact that when it comes to dance your minds think alike. Maybe that’s why you thought it would work in a sex life too.

“What song?”

“Is this a bad time?”

You both looked to the door looking like deer caught in headlights and Taehyun only stared at you two with amusement. Yeonjun wanted to chuck the kid out of his bedroom window for obviously seeing the two of you having a conversation and still choosing to interrupt. It’s not like Taehyun doesn’t know that you two haven’t spoken more than a few words since you moved in a couple months ago. Why did he have to come and ruin it aside from being a little shit?

“And I’m leaving,” you sighed dramatically knowing it would get a reaction out of Taehyun as you got up, “Guess we’ll have to do it next time.”

“Do what?” Taehyun asked as you shut the door with your leave, whipping his head back to Yeonjun his eyes went wide, “Do what? What were you guys gonna do? Oh my god, I thought you hated each ot—“

Taehyun slammed into the door in exaggeration as the pillow you once threaded Yeonjun with hit him right in the stomach.

Yeonjun won’t admit this to your face but boy is he happy that you’re dancing with him. It’s only been two days and already the choreography for Shoong! is coming out so well. The tripod was set up with his camera but he only recorded certain parts to save memory. He’ll send you the videos in the end and you’ll see how it comes out.

You both have spent the last two nights staying at the studio past midnight trying to perfect this for his video since that comes out sooner. You’ve pretty much figured it all out except Lisa’s part. You and Yeonjun were so used to working together that making a dance was so fast and easy because you understood the image you were trying to tell.

Once this is complete you’ll join him in a class or two to help teach the partner’s part in Lisa’s verse.

There’s only one downside to this arrangement and it isn’t bad or anything, but at the same time he thinks it is.

He’s never struggled dancing with another person especially as a back up dancer but like he’s said before, he’s not always as comfortable or intimate. That’s not a problem he’s having here considering he happens to know your body very well and how it moves against his. It’s bringing out some old feelings that he would prefer would just disappear.

You danced the beginning of Lisa’s part which was more of a so for you and Yeonjun danced further behind but not as the center. You were basically the one leading him for this part and there was no denying that tension was coming back. The way he looked at you as you pointed a crooked finger in his direction practically calling him over to you until your bodies pressed together to the choreography.

When it got to the part in Lisa’s verse where she sang:

‘You pull up in the lambo’ Yeonjun had managed to get behind you but not fully as he pressed your back into his side while doing a steering motion with right hand. His hand was down at your waist as he follow the best of the music and matched a swift circle of your waists together that matched the motion of your pretend steering as you practically grinded against him when he bent his knees to match you.

Right when that line ended you dropped down to your knees swiftly as you raised your hips back up following the hand he had grazing your side as if he was raising them off the ground himself.

You finished off the rest of her part on the floor until the male’s part started again and Yeonjun raised you off the floor by pulling on your hand until your bodies pressed against each other again before finishing off a synchronized dance.

When the soft voice of Taeyang sang the repeating shoong! lines, your hips met again and Yeonjun trailed a finger down the length of your arm sensually before bending you back to rest your head on his chest and end with an intimate sway of your hips together before the beat picked up for the outro.

By the end of the one on one practice you both were out of breath and you would be lying if you said it was just the dancing that caused it.

This is what he was worried about. In the back of his head he knew he wouldn’t be able to dance with you again without wanting to do all the things you did in the past. There was just no way he could feel the way your body fit perfectly with his without being reminded of what it was like to feel it closer. He knew you felt the same too because you couldn’t stop looking at him with those eyes that got him every damn time.

You cleared your throat, “One more time.”

That was all he needed to hear before playing the song from the beginning once again.

By the end of that night the two of you were too pumped up to go to bed. Usually after a night of practice you both were too tired to do anything but wash up and go to bed, tonight was not one of those nights apparently.

“Fuck I can’t get the song out of my head,” Yeonjun laughed quietly as he let himself fall into the couch in the living room. You both went home together for obvious reasons and it was so late that you were completely alone downstairs. Mira was most likely at her boyfriend’s place and Kai was probably playing his game so damn loud he couldn’t even hear his own yelling voice.

You still shushed him as you sat next to him, “Shh.”

“I can’t help it,” he whined like he was drunk and it was very amusing. He feels like he’s drunk, he hasn’t felt this comfortable dancing with someone in a while and it’s you of all people.

He really does have the song stuck in his head and was all because of the way you danced to it. He can’t stop thinking about the glide of his hand down your hips again. A feeling he’s all too familiar with.

“Wanna order pizza?” Yeonjun asked suddenly but you didn’t even act taken back.

“It’s midnight,” you whispered to him and he just smirked. You looked at his pretty face, “It’s not healthy to eat so late.”

He leaned toward you and mimicked your whisper, “When has that ever stopped anyone from ordering pizza?”

“Okay fine, order it, but I wanna shower while we wait for it to get here. Hurry up though or I’ll go to bed,” you said and he only grinned wider.

“Yes ma’am, I’m right on it,” he teased as he went on his phone knowing you most likely rolled your eyes at him. You’re being bossy with him again and he knows that it’s because you’re comfortable telling him something. It’s like a form of love language with you, you treated Beomgyu the same and you used to treat Yeonjun like that again.

Fuck, why is he overthinking it?

He shouldn’t like you like that again.

Things were going too fast again. This is what happened last time and there was no way you can say it’s not happening again. It’s because you started dancing with him again, that’s why he’s been all you could think and you just know he’s feeling the same.

You’ve spent an entire week perfecting the dance and each night the touches linger a little longer than before. You have also been seeing him around the house a little more and this time he’s not shying away from hanging out in your room on your bed talking about choreography—it’s not your fault if the subject would change throughout the night.

You just forgot how easy it was to talk with Yeonjun. He was a little sarcastic and mean but so were you and you hated that he could actually make you laugh.

“Alright everyone, this is Y/n, she’s helped me with the choreography and we’re about to show you the full dance right now,” Yeonjun said with a cocky grin as he pulled you into his side with his hand on your waist. You were trying to put space between you but he wasn’t letting that happen and he only smiled teasingly when you whined.

‘Is that his girlfriend?’

‘I thought he didn’t like dancing with partners.’

‘They seem so close, look at his smile.’

When the music began to play it was like you two were in your own world together. Yeonjun didn’t hesitate letting his hands touch your body when needed or get as close to you as the choreography intended. It was very obvious to everyone who watched that he was close to you in some way to have this much chemistry when you danced.

Also, the way he looked at you when the two of you were face to face was with a jaded breath that made him smile when you did the next move. By the end of the dance an eruption of cheers filled the dance rooms as you smiled cheerfully at him for completing it.

To be honest, Yeonjun wasn’t listening to what was happening around him. Instead he was more focused on keeping you close to him as everyone talked around him with music blaring loud enough to create a buzz. His attention was more on not letting you slip away as he found himself saying, “One kiss?”

Your eyes bulged in surprise as a hand of yours came up to his chest trying to push back gently even with his arms snug around your waist. You looked around the room, “Not with everyone here.”

He smirked as he looked down at you with a dazed look, “That’s not a no.”

This is what happens between you two. Despite arguing and avoiding each other, any time the opportunity comes you just can’t seem to help from wanting to touch again. Yeonjun was feeling extra bold right now because he always enjoys how good your body feels against his when you dance. It makes him want to relive whatever you had two years ago. When he called for a short break before they went back to practicing he didn’t know it was because he really wanted you to himself right now.

He licked his lips, “Just one kiss, Y/n.”

“Why do you want a kiss so bad?” You asked jokingly as you looked at him curiously. You arched a brow as he shrugged his shoulders, still moving you along his body acting like he doesn’t have a class full of dancers to teach at the moment.

“I like kissing—“ Yeonjun’s words immediately died down when he felt your soft lips press a light kiss on his neck as you stood on your tiptoes to reach up. He was taken off guard at the first feel of your tongue licking along his neck before closing your mouth in a kiss and his hold on you tightened. Just as he was getting ready to tilt your chin up and connect your lips with his, you pulled back, already trying to get away from him.

Yeonjun wrapped a hand around your wrist keeping you from moving across the room to the speaker, “That’s it?”

“Breaks over,” You tilted your head to the side giving him a look he understood and let you go. He gets it, it’s sudden and the way the two of you had acted wasn’t just something that can be forgotten through a dance. He just can’t help that these last moments where he’s been with you for practice, at home, and now are making him want you all over again.

He watched you go as he ran his fingers through his hair was an exasperated sigh, “Alright! Who’s ready to start practice?”

His eyes couldn’t drift away from you as you stood a few feet away from him and he’s positive everyone can note how he had his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. He wasn’t even hiding the fact that he was falling for you again.

At the end of practice he was feeling exhausted and a bit worked up. The amount of times he got to feel you tonight under the guise of dance practice was enough to make his numbers feel numb and one again he found himself going to you. You knelt down by your dance bag in front of the large mirrors and he came up next to you making you look up.

“I know what you’re thinking, Junnie,” the nickname slid off your lips as you packed your things, “And it’s not a good idea.”

“One kiss won’t change anything,” Yeonjun persisted as he leaned against the mirrored wall. You looked at him with an arched brow and he knew you caught his bluff and it made him smile more, “I swear.”

“That’s what we said last time and then what happened?” You asked standing up in front of him, “Someone made assumptions and then flipped out on me.”

He rolled his eyes at the reminder, “And how long ago was that?”

“Pretty sure a few weeks ago you were mad about it,” you teased even as you traced a finger down his chest, “So do you think it’s a good idea to do it again?”

“I do,” Yeonjun said, letting his hand go down to your hip, “And I know you want to kiss me too.”

You sighed in thought as you looked up at him and he didn’t tear his gaze away. All it took was the warmth of your hand finding his jaw for him to dip his head down and let your lips brush against each other gently. When you didn’t immediately pull away, he took action and fully pressed his mouth to yours in a soft kiss.

Yeonjun didn’t hesitate to let both hands slide down your hips toward your back and pulled you more flush against him leaving no room between your wanton bodies as your tongue slipped past his lips meeting his softly. Your arms wrapped around his neck trying to pull yourself up to kiss him better and he eagerly granted you more access. It was a sight to be seen, the way his jaw moved so effortlessly, tongue kissing you.

There was a small pause, pulling away to catch your breaths and this should have been a moment to reflect. You both knew what this could possibly mean for you two. It was like starting all over from when you first started hooking up and how easy it was for you to go together. The problem is that you two aren’t good at communicating when it didn’t have to do with sex. The thing is, the two of you are making out in the dance practice room where there were no windows or cameras and the only thing you can see is your reflections in the mirrored walls.

“We’ve never done it in a practice room,” Yeonjun said clearly reading your mind and it made you whine into his chest.

“Yeonjun…” you want to do this with him again but you live together now. That brings a whole different set of problems for you and the people you’re living with if you start messing around again. Yeonjun knew this too but frankly, he didn’t care. He wanted you.

Despite your clear hesitation, it didn’t stop you from bringing him back into a kiss as your back pressed into the wall of mirrors with him in front of you. He smiled into the kiss as he deepened it, dipping his head low and trapping you between his arms. He kissed down your neck, sucking softly on a spot he was very familiar with and knew it would have your body writhing against him. Your hands tugged on his shirt rushing him but he was not complaining. You both were eager to get your hands on each other after so long.

He yanked it off feeling your hands fly to his belt loop but he stopped you again. He was slightly out of breath as he spoke, "Y/n..."

You looked at him waiting to see what he had to say but I stead he traced his hands down your sides as he dropped down to his knees making your lips part in surprise. He was quick in yanking down your tiny shorts and kissing whatever part of your body that was exposed to his needy gaze. He pulled your underwear down too and didn’t hide the way he licked his lips at the sight before him.

Yeonjun wasn’t moving and it was making you feel a bit shy so you found yourself with your hand in his hair and pulling it. He looked up at you with lust blown eyes and his pretty lips parted in a gasp at the pull making you look away from his strong gaze, “Are you just going to keep staring?”

A smile appeared on his face as his soft hands pinched your hips dragging your lower half closer, he motioned for you to spread your legs further and as you did that he leaned even lower, eyes focused on your wet pussy now that he can see it better, “This isn’t just from right now is it?”

As he said that he let one of his hands slide over your pelvis and a finger dip between your folds watching the silky strings of arousal coat it. You huffed in annoyance, “It’s your fault for being so fucking touchy this entire practice.”

With a soft hum, he said, “Let me take the blame then.”

His mouth closed over the stiffened clit so suddenly that it drew a gasp from your lips and your head to tip back against the mirror. Yeonjun is never the one to take things slow, usually liking the element of surprise in catching you off guard by his forward movements. Your hands tugged on his hair with every languid move of his tongue over your wet folds, quite literally lapping up your slick like he was thirsty for more and you had no doubt in your mind that’s exactly what this was. It’s been two years and yet you’re still his favorite pussy to eat and he just can’t get enough.He was lost in his own world, hips rutting into nothing as his tongue worked to taste your raw essence and flick at your clue just the way he knew you liked. He knew how to read your body better than anyone else and it should be a crime that the two of you were too annoyed with each other to do this when you moved in together.

His thick tongue never once slowed down its flicking between your folds and not long after he was pushing it into your warm hole. He was quite literally tongue fucking you with his eyes on you the entire time trying to fish out the perfect reactions. With an annoyed roll of his eyes he reached up with a hand to pinch at your shirt signaling for you to take it off and you did just that. You skipped it off letting it fall over your bag and took the initiative to remove your bra too and it had him fucking you with his tongue with more vigor.

You were in euphoria with moans tumbling out of your soft lips and his mouth slobbering all over your cunt made you want to fuck back into his face. He swirled over your sensitive bud lathering it in his own drool as he brought a hand up your body to feel up your breasts making you moan a little louder than intended. It only made the hand on your tits rougher as your hips began to meet the wave of his head with each thrust of his tongue into your pussy.

"Yeonjun—" you moaned softly, hands in his soft hair keeping him in place.

He licked his lips as he pulled back, “You gotta keep it down, baby, you don’t want someone walking in on us, do you?”

“Let them,” You rolled your eyes, and placed a hand over his head and led him back down to your pussy. Too distracted by the thought of making you cum on his tongue and your eagerness for the same, he did just that. He focused on your clit, tongue flattening over it and shaking his head from side to side feeling your walls tighten, repeating the action over and over again. He felt it too, he knew your body’s responses and he knew you were close. All it took was a little suck on your pretty clit for your release to hit you. It didn’t slow down his ministrations as he continued to lick up your climax despite your legs shaking and your hand searching for something to hold onto as you moaned wantonly. Your slick began to drip down his chin but he didn’t stop until there was nothing left to drink, breathing heavy as he swallowed everything you gave him.

When you had enough you yanked his head back by the hair and looked at his fucked out expression just from eating you out.

With weak legs you slowly made yourself to the floor and Yeonjun made room for you only to direct you to lay down. You smacked your lips in annoyance, “Why am I the only one naked?”

“Because you haven’t taken this off me,” he said with a teasing smile and you sat up to pull his shirt off.

You made his breath hitch you quickly yanked on his pants nearly making him stumble into as you lowered them down. His muscles tended at your toughness and helped you kick them off before releasing a soft whine as he tried leaning down to kiss you again. You met him halfway, a messy tongue kiss mixed with the taste of your arousal and spit. With him distracted by your makeout you slowly began pushing him back until he got the hint and laid down on the cold dance floor with you over him.

His eyes fell shut feeling your lips kiss down the expanse of his neck to his pretty collarbone and down his chest. Your hand was quicker than your lips at trailing down his body and soon he felt it slide over his hardening member with a couple experimental strokes, his mouth drawn open in a silent moan. He released a shaky breath as your face closer to his tip, licking it gently, teasing him. You flatten your tongue on the underside of his cock, licking along his base to his tip stopping at his head to let a pool of spit spill past your lips and onto his dick. Without further thought, you swallowed more of his length past your lips and watched his eyes scrunch closed in pleasure.

“So good,” he said licking his plump lips and bit down hard to fight back a loud groan when you held him at his base and began to bob your head along his length with a good pace. You had your other hand on his thigh, nails digging in just slightly because it made his cock twitch every time and you jerked off what didn’t fit in your mouth.

Yeonjun watched the way his cock disappeared into your mouth with a slack jaw as if he still can’t believe you make him feel this good every time you go down on him. It was embarrassing how quick you always brought him to orgasm.

You took steady breaths through your nose doing your best to relax your throat and flatten your tongue. His head fell back with a pleasured sigh when he felt you begin to take heavier breaths sliding down his length until his tip hit the back of your throat. You roughly swallow around him, suppressing a gag as you resume to deep throat him, spit bubbles gathering around his length.

"Oh fuck," he groaned, moans were pouring out of his mouth, no longer caring if anyone in another room heard, “I’m close. Get on top.”

It took you a minute to move off and every second you stayed sucking his cock was another annoyed moment that passed him trying to get you off. With a pop of your mouth, you quickly pulled off trying to catch you breath as he sat up and brought his mouth to yours, “Ride me, you know I love it when you’re on top.”

You were well aware that there was no chance he had a condom on him but this wasn’t the first time you have had unprotected sex and honestly, it probably won’t be the last. That’s the only reason why you didn’t hesitate to lead him back to lay down as you straddle his hips, eyes on his stiff cock that pointed up.

Yeonjun’s hands lightly trailed your sides, licking his lips as he stared down at where your drenched pussy hovered over his dick and he felt a shiver of anticipation run down his spine. With a hand on his base to keep himself pointed up, he watched as you lined yourself up with him and took his head in. He quickly looked at you as your mouth drew open, sinking down on his length, your body not a stranger to his size, relaxed around him.

"Yeonjun," you whined at the first expert roll of his hips, digging his cock a little further into your walls once he knew you were ready and very needy to feel him. He didn’t start off slow either, he guided your hips to ride him roughly the way he knew you both liked and when you nearly fell forward only using your hands to hold yourself up, he met you halfway and went straight for your breasts. He nipped at the bud playing with it as he looked up at you to the best of his ability.

Yeonjun couldn’t help it, you were in a room full of mirrors and he just couldn’t help it. He found his eyes straying toward the closest mirror and they rolled at the sight. Your back was arched like a kittens, his hands groping handfuls of your ass and mouth hungrily sucking on your nipples knowing how much you liked it. Your hair fell around him and you just looked so pretty that he knew he wouldn’t last.

“Ugh,” you groaned when the pace had slowed by him being distracted staring at your reflection and with a light shove off him he let go only to let you sit up again. You looked over at the mirror as you sat up in a right angle and adjusting your legs to help you better, you raised your hips fully before dropping back down onto his length with a little grind.

“Fuck,” he growled, hand moving off your ass and slapping it just so he could watch the way it jiggled when you rode him, "Just like that, look at this slutty body. Fuck, I love it.”

“Did you miss it?” You asked with arrogance at the lustful, hungry gaze he looked at you with and as if to push him more for an answer you leaned forward, breasts in his face and never stopping your bouncing hips. He nodded almost submissively before his brows knitted together in concentration and fucked you back, hard.

Before you could react, Yeonjun was flipping you onto your back hitting the dance floor and taking the lead to stuff you full of cock. You sighed as you wrapped your hands around his neck stopping him from being to move back as he fucked you, “I’m close.”

“Already?” He teased, “Damn, you must’ve missed me too.”

“Shut up,” you moaned against his lips, dragging him into a kiss. Yeonjun was a slim guy yet out of everyone you’ve been with he’s the one who knows how to make you cum and he’s cocky about it too.

“No,” He practically giggled, “My dick making your little pussy feel good?”

His eyes locked on yours as he felt your warm walls begin to tighten around him. A familiar ring of nerves clenching around his member as it sucked him into your folds. He wasn't going to last much longer either, “Your pussy is so damn good, every time, I can never get enough.”

His thrusted slower but still rough, chasing his own high with the sponginess of your spent walls that hugged his stiff dick deliciously, enough to make his lips dry. You didn’t have to give him a warning when he knew his words were getting to you and he finally forced you to look away from the mirror and up at him, “Cum.”

A wave seemed to wash over you, his final words to put you over the edge and just like that, you were letting go pulling him into a kiss to swallow your loud moan.

Yeonjun would have liked to help you through your orgasm but it had been so long since he last had you and still hard from your mouth on his cock, he needed to cut now. He pulled out quickly and not finding where to release he came straight on your stomach in thick, warm spurts with heavy pants. He looked down at the mess he made and smiled despite the way you smacked your lips in annoyance, “Seriously?”

“Would you rather it have been inside you?” Yeonjun asked as he sat back to look at the mess he made of you, licking his lips. A smirk came to his face at the sudden idea, “Don’t worry I’ll clean you up.”

“Yeonju—“ you hissed at the sudden feeling of his tongue licking his own release off your stomach and he didn’t seem to mind it one bit.

“What? It’s mine,” Yeonjun said as he kissed along your body before moving down between your legs to clean up your release too, “All of this is mine, you too.”

“Since when?” You asked as you relaxed. You were teasing him and he just smiled, “Since you decided to dance with me again. And no more misunderstandings, I want you to be mine Y/n, just mine. So let’s work on us this time.”

Things between you two were still kept private. There wasn’t any specific reason for it because some of your friends knew but you two still weren’t completely out with it. You were testing it out first and with your focus being on the summer dance exhibition you had, there was no push to continue to prove you were together now. Yeonjun was the perfect partner and after the exhibition the two of you were finally able to relax.

Taehyun was the one who asked the four of you housemates to go out. Mira was finally done with her intense dead week of exams and she has about two weeks off before her summer courses so it was the perfect time for you to all go out. Living with Yeonjun and dating him has been a bittersweet experience, bitter in the beginning when you were mad at each other, and sweet now where he spends most nights in your room or you in his.

Right now Yeonjun feels content with his relationship with you and as he watched you dance with Mira out on the dance floor all he can think about is how perfect you are for him. He had a feeling that dancing with you would bring the two of you together again and he would be lying if he said that it’s not what he had hoped for in the back of his mind when you agreed to dance Shoong! with him. He smirked at the reminder of the way your body dances with his and he’s wondering if tonight he could ask for a private show again in the practice room. You’ve sworn off public sex but he knows you too well to think you’re serious about it.

“I hate couples,” Taehyun rolled his eyes as he watched Yeonjun’s loving smile watching you dance. Feeling his eyes on him, you pulled away from Mira and motioned with your hand that the two of you would be going to the bar for more drinks. With a nod of his head he watched the two of you leave while he stayed back with Taehyun.

“Hey.”

A deep voice came up next to you as you and Mira got to the bar and at first you didn’t realize he was talking to you until you felt a hand on your lower back that immediately startled you. You turned to look at who it was when he spoke up, “I’ve been watching you dance all night an—“

“Why are you touching me?” You asked loud enough for Mira to hear and moved his hand off. The stranger still smiled, “Sorry, I just wanted to get your attention. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

“I hope so.”

You turned watching Yeonjun walk over to you and without sparing a glance, his arms wrapped around your waist, “She’s taken.”

Nobody but Taehyun saw the way Mira’s jaw dropped at the declaration and she turned to him immediately, “Since when?”

Taehyun threw his arm over her shoulders, “You’ve missed a lot, Mira.”

“Are they dating? How did I not know?” Mira asked him but she knew why. She spent all her free time with her boyfriend Kai or getting home late that she didn’t see when Yeonjun would sneak into your room or you in his. As far as she knew the two of you didn’t like each other so when did it change to this?

You didn’t say anything in response as Yeonjun hugged you from behind, all you did was turn his jaw toward you and without pulling his gaze away from the guy, he let you kiss him on the lips.

You were finally Yeonjun’s little dancer again and if another guy thinks he’s gonna change that then he has to laugh. He’s not going to get jealous and misunderstand you two again. You made it official and yes, he might get jealous but this time it’s because you’re his and not because he’s too scared to ask if you are.

::.

okay YALL this is a REUPLOAD. I’m not a dancer so bare with me 😭

[jolynesmom]

aging yourself up or down in your dr (+ dating)

I actually refrained from talking on this topic on my tiktok since I knew I was going to get chased off the app and didn’t see a point in talking about it on tumblr since everybody here seems to be more open minded and mind their own business, until I saw multiple posts a few days ago here, where the op were shaming people for changing their age or changing the ages of people in their dr

those people definitely came from tiktok and I honestly hope this post reaches them as I didn’t want to directly interact with them

I think one of the posts was about how adults age ‘minors’ in their dr to date them is problematic, which made me laugh, because how is it problematic if they’re both the same age in their dr?

and the sad thing about that post is that the op said that they’re aware how shifting works and all that, but still finds it problematic and hopes people that do that never shift which is just… girly I hope YOU never shift because you don’t deserve it for shaming people trying to live their lives

I’m not going to go into details about the og posts, but they still have the outdated idea that if you shift for a character that is much younger than you here it’s ‘problematic’. once again: how is it problematic if you’re the same age in your dr?

and then they hit you with another outdated take ‘it’s problematic because you find them attractive here’ which is ridiculous because of so many reasons

1.many characters (especially anime characters) don’t act or look their age. if your perceived a character as an adult initially then found out they’re a minor, I simply don’t care. ages in fiction never matter, if your mind perceived x as a certain age then they’re that age idc; 99.99% people are attracted to a character for who they are, not their age

2.many people had crushes on characters when they were younger or the same age with that character and still like them. let’s boo them that their crush on the character didn’t die and their fav character didn’t age, acting like you’re not going to be in their place in a few years

‘not true I’ll stop liking my favorite character when I’m of age 😡’

okay sweetie keep telling yourself that, because I keep seeing people on tiktok that had this mentality: they liked an underage character when they were minors and wanted to shift for them, now they’re adults, haven’t shifted yet but STILL like that character and regret having said they’re gonna stop liking that character when they’re adults because it didn’t happen lol

3.people don’t always script that an underage person here will be their s/o, it just might happen. I’m actually going to use myself as an example for this: so here I’m an adult and I’m also aroace which I dislike because I always dreamed of a fantasy novel like romantic relationship, so I’m straight or bi in most of my drs so I can date. in my jujutsu kaisen dr, all the people in jujutsu tech are adults because I don’t like teens or kids and don’t wanna hangout with them. in my 30+ drs I only have 3 scripted s/os which are all adults here. I didn’t script an s/o for my jjk dr, because I want to focus more on friendships and training there (but secretly hoped choso would pick me, a girl can dream ok); a few weeks ago I channeled multiple people from my dr (yuuji, megumi, nobara, gojo, nanami and geto) and I received normal messages from all of them. I expected all of their answers, except yuuji’s answers which had romantic aspects to them. that made me realize that he might have a crush on me and maybe we’ll even date in my dr or something? who knows, I didn’t think too much about it so idk

so now if a character that’s underage here likes me in my dr, am I supposed to refuse them or shift out? lmao you’re delusional if you think I’m doing that

4.people that have never experienced adolescence love here. a lot of people dreamed of having that sweet experience of teenage romance that disney and an insane amount of shows and movies love to push, but instead their teen years were filled with abuse and hate. why shouldn’t they shift to experience what was taken from them here?

ALSO let’s switch this around: why is okay for minors to date adults in their dr, but not the other way around?

‘it’s not as bad 🤓☝🏻’

imma be the devil’s advocate and say it’s just as bad

do you genuinely think it’s okay to be a minor here and date an adult in your dr? like do you really think your s/o would feel comfortable being sexualized by a minor and dating a person that’s a minor in another reality? you lowkey forced your partner to become a pedo if you think about it 🙁 /jk

and also if you shift to a reality where you’re a minor and become of age there, you’re officially an adult and shouldn’t date minors anymore, even in your ‘original reality’ where you’re still a minor. please keep the same standards for yourself

[jellinuy]

In that case, can I request Sukuna (if you’re comfortable writing for him I understand if not), Gojo, and Geto with a smol partner? Like they’re all decently tall and their s/o is so short and how would they feel/interact with them because of it

Thank you again! And I hope this new start treats you very well!

𖦹˚ ✩ . ❝what's the weather like down there ?❞

★ synopsis. your only purpose in life now is to serve as your boyfriend's armrest.

★ includes. satoru gojo, suguru geto, ryoumen sukuna.

★ formatting. headcanons.

★ notes. established relationships, gn! reader, reader is roughly '5"0 for reference, excessive amounts of harassment from sukuna, gojo being insufferable as per usual, suguru being the only supportive person here, slightly toxic behavior (from sukuna).

꒰— ๑ author’s note. ryker ! hello, you !! always so good to see you in my inbox. im sorry this took me sm longer than expected.. ahaaaa so here the thing. i've tried writing for sukuna a couple times, but i don't think i'm too good at his character: i'm trying again, just for you, so you can let me know yourself, okay? >_< and ty for the well wishes!!! i hope my new start treats me just as kindly as you do.꒱

★彡 SATORU GOJO.

Don’t feel bad — everyone’s an ant compared to the 6'3" Satoru Gojo.

You’re his special ant, though! Useful and cute as a button!

(I say 'useful' because, unfortunately, you are no longer Y/N, the epicenter of Gojo's heart, but instead Y/N, the glorified rest for his chin and lanky arms.)

How sweet of him. ♡

The kind of boyfriend to make you ask him to bend down for a kiss, even if it's just on the cheek.

Also the kind to hold cups and books and whatever else you happen to have in your hand above your head, snickering like a child at the way you try (and fail) to get your things back.

Satoru is actually the king of short jokes. Please punch him. It's permitted. It's not even funny how good he is at slipping them into perfectly normal conversation.

“You're not happy? Which one are you, then?” (It's a seven dwarves joke. Please laugh.)

Yuji likes to call you out on it just as much as his teacher does, pointing and laughing as Gojo's elbow plops atop your head and he leans on you.

“Gyahahahaha!! Sen…Sensei — hehahaha — you look like an angry armrest…!”

He’ll sort of just hoist you up out of nowhere — it’s kind of scary, but it gets more exciting once he starts running through the halls with you on his back like a maniac.

Receiving hugs out of nowhere is also a big fat trap. Don't fall for the way his eyes sparkle as he reaches out to embrace you. He’s full of trickery and bad intentions.

“Hey, you.” And like an unsuspecting idiot, you squeeze him back, wrapping your tiny arms around his big torso. “What's up, baby?”

“Oh, y'know. I'm just appreciating the little things in life.”

“We’re done.”

“WAIT—”

★彡 SUGURU GETO.

Geto is pretty sizeable himself. He may not show it too often, but he does preen a little at the fact that you have to look up at him.

Unlike a certain blue-eyed sorcerer, he won't be half as teasing about it.

He'll reassure you whenever and if ever you feel insecure about your height.

"No, no, you're never too short for me. You're just right."

"Your height just makes it easier to hold you."

"I love you just as you are."

(RRRAAAAAAHHGHHHHHSHDJ)

Honestly, you’re the cutest thing to him.

You're so precious, just look at you.

Despite that, Geto really isn't one to coo at you like Gojo other men might.

When the mood strikes him, he may rest his chin on your head, bending down to coil his arms around your waist, or he may just pick you up entirely.

Suguru likes to keep you in that sitting position, hoisting you up to where your bum is in the crook of his elbow like a 5 foot tall piece of equipment. He'll just carry you around like that, too.

Adores holding you while you sleep. It's usually you on top of him, sprawled out across his chest like a small starfish.

"You know, this is how Mimiko and Nanako used to sleep with me."

AAAAUUUGGGHJSJJD I NEED HIM TO HOLD ME

★彡 RYOUMEN SUKUNA.

Ha!

There was no chance in hell he’d ever let himself be smaller than you.

See, Yuji would probably make you feel better about your height (or lack thereof), tell you you're still just as cute, but Sukuna and Yuji are a far cry from each other, so instead, you get bullied.

"Me, have to look up at someone so puny and incompetent as you? Just who the hell do you think I am, y'little brat?"

(He says that as if he resents you, but he calls you a brat with affection. Don't take it too hard.)

Sukuna actually cannot handle when you stare up at him with those big doll eyes. He can't. He's gone soft, unfortunately, and he will kill you if you tell anyone.

Joke's on him, actually. Being '5"8 just means you've earned yourself a (very cranky) piggyback ride.

"Huh? ...What’s that? Can’t hear you from all the way down there."

He’s just as bad as Gojo with the short jokes, except he doesn’t stop when you whine at him to.

Will pick you up one way, and it's tossing you over his shoulder like a potato sack. You don't get the princess-carry, you don't get to wrap your legs around his stomach: you're a potato sack, got it?

Sukuna absolutely relishes in getting to look down at someone, especially his significant other.

[reginnaofallwaters]

☆ HONKAI STAR RAIL

duckin' (boothill x gn!reader)

tw: none

additional: hint of forbidden love, a lot of censored cursing tbh

a/n: i'll proofread this when i wake up lol. i just had an idea and i needed to do word vomit before i forget all of it <//3 anyway hi :)

A relationship between human and cyborg.. How did that even work?

That was the question you always heard when the people of your planet met your boyfriend.

Granted, cyborgs were, in a way, still human. Not completely for sure, but still human. They had human feelings, human desires, human minds. It just so happened they had a body of steel and metal. There was no denying, however, that cyborgs felt.. a little inhuman sometimes. Their bodies was one such example, the steel often glinting underneath the light. Often times, they had.. "unique" features that weren't present in normal humans. Some had retractable arms, extended legs, and even extended—

Let's not go there.

Point is— cyborgs weren't quite human. Their unique features would make regular humans fear them. But, hey, this was the whole damn universe, of course there'll be the occasional weirdo or two with the sheer amount of planets that littered the whole, wide galaxy (I mean, Planet Screwllum literally exists), but that's to be expected.

Anyway, where were we? Right. Unique features.

For one, your boyfriend, a cyborg named Boothill, had this fun, little tech embedded in him called the Synesthesia Beacon. It was a translator device that allowed one's thoughts and consciousness into a language the receiver could understand. In this case— you.

Oh, and it was so, so hilarious.

And it also just happened that someone tinkered with his Synesthesia Beacon (Aeons knew who but a part of you thanks them for it). As thus, any fun curse words he wished to say were basically censored.

"That fudging idiot!" Boothill hissed lowly under his breath. "Can't forking believe that someone messed around with my Synesthesia Beacon. How the heck did they manage to do that anyway?"

You bit back a laugh and attempted for a gentle smile to hide your smirk. That obviously failed with the way Boothill shot you a warning glare.

"Ya sure ya weren't behind this, darlin'?" He plopped himself onto the seat next to you, cold, mechanical arms immediately wrapping around your waist like it belonged there. The thought made you a little happy. Just a little, of course. "Maybe ya did this to mess with me, hm?"

"I would never," you retorted with a chuckle. "I can't even trust myself with tinkering with elaborate machinery or whatnot, what made you think I'd have the balls to mess yours up?"

"Hah. Fair enough," he replied. "Still. Look at me. I sound like a character from those duckin' kid shows."

Boothill's face contorted, an unpleasant sneer forming on his lips at the realization that a simple 'damn' got censored too. God, that expression was hilarious.

"Pfft—" You really, really couldn't hold it back for much longer— "Duckin', huh?"

"Sweetheart, ya know I love ya, so spare me the laughin' and just don't for the love of frills— The fork?! Frills? Frills? Are you friggin kiddin' me right now? That friggin' son of a birch, I swear."

You laughed silently as he continued to rant on (Read: Attempt to cuss) with no end. You shifted in your place to face him, gently removing his grip on your waist. Once you've faced him, you gently cupped his cheeks, eyebrow raised.

Boothill stopped.

You always had that effect on him. One simple touch was all it took to rid him of all of his anger. It didn't matter whatever shit he was worrying about, the moment you touched him with a knowing glint in your eye, he immediately went quiet each time. His shoulders relaxed, obsidian eyes softening, and the deep frown on his face easing into a neutral line.

"You calmed down much more quicker this time," you hummed, thumb gently tracing his cheek. "Color me surprised."

"Duh, because it's ya, sweetheart," he murmured in reply, nuzzling further into your touch. "Don't know how ya do it, but ya always make me feel calm. I like it."

You didn't reply this time, your other hand reaching out to remove the hat atop of Boothill's head and placing it aside. Your fingers threaded itselves through his long, black and white locks, brushing aside the occasional tangle. His hair wasn't soft and perfect by any means but.. you didn't mind.

You still recalled the way your friends and family were.. rather concerned for you once they learned of your relationship with Boothill. In your planet, cyborgs, mechanical, and inorganic life forms weren't exactly welcome. It was taboo to even interact with one. Yet, you went ahead and got yourself a cyborg boyfriend anyway. Of course, they would be concerned.

Putting his whole "cyborg" origin aside, Boothill's personality and position as a Galaxy Ranger was something to.. definitely worry about. Galaxy Rangers were known for being lone travellers throughout the universe. Rarely do they travel in groups unless subduing an evil that a Ranger couldn't deal on their own. Wouldn't you be just abandoned? Be neglected? Those were the words of your loved ones.

Boothill wasn't like that in the slightest. Despite his outgoing and unrestrained personality, he made sure to never leave you alone for too long. Made you sure were happy first and foremost. Wasn't that enough? Wasn't him doing his best enough?

As you gaze into his eyes, you smiled again.

Yes. It was definitely enough.

"I love you," you said.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he said in turn. "Too duckin' much."

"..Pfft. Duckin'."

"I take it back. I don't love ya anymore."

"Hey!"

So, how did a relationship between a human and a cyborg work?

You don't know. It just did. To your planet, it was a taboo. To you, it felt right. It didn't matter to you one bit. In the end, Boothill being a cyborg did not matter.

And wasn't the most important thing here was love? You love him. He loves you.

That alone was enough.

[gatorbites-imagines]

um could I request Conner Kent with a male reader who is just like him. Reader is a clone of another hero made by Cadmus, but the reader is a year or two older. When Conner and their first meet is during his initial escape and him coming apart from the team, and them bonding over them being clones. What would their relationship be like.

Conner Kent x Plastic Man Clone Male Reader

Headcanons

Reader is a clone of Plastic Man, cuz I love him.

Heyo my Hatchlings, how has everyone been doing? I finally finished up my assignment and I’m finally back. Did you guys miss me?

As a clone of Plastic Man, you put a good amount of people on edge when you appeared. Seeing as Plastic Man is very much immortal and unbeatable in the long game, they feared if you were good or evil, as there wouldn’t really be any way to defeat you if you turned out to be bad.

Luckily for them, you turned out to be as good of a guy as a clone of Plastic Man could be. You weren’t completely black and white, and sure you stole sometimes, and had a habit out of causing problems for corrupt people in power, but who were they to blame you.

You lived with Patrick Obrian, since he’s the closest thing you have to a family, and he never even had the thought of rejecting you because of your clone status. If anybody knows what its like to be judged and struggling to exist, its him.

Patrick plays an active supportive role in your life, and he teaches you how to use your powers. You end up being very skilled at the shapeshifting part of your shared powers. Sure, you still stretched, grew or shrank in size, anything Plastic Man could do, but you enjoyed shapeshifting the most. You even got a hang on switching colors, something Patrick struggled with.

When Young Justice was cooked up, you were one of the first they placed on the team. Mainly because of how powerful you were, and since part of them wanted to keep an eye on you, just in case.

You never took anything too seriously, it just came with the territory of being a clone of Plastic Man. Live life and all that. You did get into some arguments with different members of the team when it comes to morals, but that’s to be expected of a team.

When the team finds and rescues Conner, you immediately feel a level of kinship with him. Your clone status isn’t known outside of the league, so the knowledge Conner was born with doesn’t let him know you are a clone too.

As everyone tries to figure out what to do with Conner, you just settle down beside him, your stretched limbs dragging closer to you until they’re the normal length, where you offer him a snack or something to drink.

“Youd think they’d be better at dealing with clones, huh?” you joke, chewing on your own snack as he just looks at you, still confused and on edge about everything.

At his questioning glance, you lift your goggles and wink at him, pointing a thumb at yourself as you almost proudly declare yourself a clone of the best member of the justice league, if you were to be asked anyways.

As the league tries to figure it all out, you sit with Conner and just talk his ear off, never letting him wallow to far and making it harder for him to overhear the negative things said about him. Only Patrick knew, but the League fearing that you’d turn evil still weighed on you, and you didn’t want Conner to deal with the same thing.

Its only after you’ve made him smile and laugh that you accept that you’ve done your duty. When its time to leave you give him a way to contact you, and give him another cheesy wink before pulling your goggles back on, telling him that you clones should stick together.

Over time you become one of the people Conner is closest too, especially when he isn’t as welcomes by the people around him as he had hoped. This angers you and by extension Patrick, but your father figure just rolls his eyes and says he isn’t surprised.

In the beginning Conner spends a lot of time with you and Patrick, but mainly you, since you are closer in age. To be someone to look up too, you even stop with your petty crime for a while, just so your bad reputation won’t rub off on Conner.

Seeing him mingle better with the team, you take a happy step back and let him build the relationships he craves. Because of your different opinions and looser morals, you never became much more than acquaintances with the team, but seeing your fellow clone happy is enough for you.

But even as Conner gets closer to the team, he still holds onto you, since you were the first person to show him casual kindness without any suspicion or wanting something in return. You also have a lot more life skill than he does, so going to you for advice is normal for him.

When the time comes, you were most likely the one to leave the young justice team first out of everyone. You just don’t fit into their dynamic, and you run best on your own or with your father figure. Its hard to be an immortal who would never get to experience true normal life on a team of people who could.

You don’t leave the league, but you become more of a contractor, someone they call in when they need the help. You keep beating up bad guys, but you also fall back on the familiar feeling of crime. You only steal from those that deserve it though, and use your shapeshifting to easily get away with it.

It becomes a bit of a running gag, as the league always sends the young justice team after you since you aren’t an actual lethal threat. It kinda becomes training for them, and since Meghan can’t ever find you through mind powers, they have to work hard to find you.

When Conner leaves the team you to go out for drinks. Who cares about your ages. Seeing your father figure, you could be thousands of years old and never age physically, so it didn’t matter to you.

If your relationship was romantic, this would most likely be where it developed further, since Conner would be less tied to the team, and he could spend more time with you.

If your relationship isn’t romantic, it would still develop from here, just become more brotherly. You always joke you’re the batman to his superman, always shapeshifting into batman when you do, much to Conners fake annoyance.

Honestly even if it became romantic, youd still transform into batman and make kissy faces at him, since superbat is probably a running gag in the league.

You guys go on dates, even if its platonic, just to spend time together, maybe travel the world a bit, or even travel space, since you could easily survive away from earth. Theres probably also some very deep conversations about existence and your worth, since being a clone and always being treated like one weigh heavy on anyone.

When it truly hits Conner how much you struggle with your own role as a clone, he’s a bit surprised. Hed never imagined you were just completely fine, but you had always seemed to let the comments and suspicion roll off your back.

All in all, you two have each other’s back, always. The bond you have is deep in the way only two people created the same place for the same purpose can have. So, no matter if its romantic or platonic, you two become a familiar sight on and off the battlefield.

[melzula]

REQUESTS ARE OPEN !!!!! okay this has been a long time coming for me but would you be open to doing a general iroh and kya’s daughter wedding piece ? i feel like that’s the only part of their relationship we haven’t seen !

a/n: was so excited to get this request bc i love these two so much!!!

~ based off of these headcanons ~

“You look beautiful.”

“I think I’m going to puke,” you utter with a nervous laugh, anxiously fidgeting with the ceremonial pins in your hair that you just can’t seem to get straight.

Sighing, Kya carefully pushes your hands away before adjusting the pins herself. The golden ornate pieces had been a gift from Zuko, said to have belonged to his late wife and worn on their own wedding day, and though you were grateful for the thoughtful gift you also felt that an immense amount of pressure came with them. Marrying Iroh meant you’d officially be part of the royal family now, and a part of you was worried you wouldn’t be able to live up to the expectations that came with that.

“It’s normal to be nervous,” your mother consoles, stepping back to admire her work once the pins are set. “Today is an important day and the start of another adventure for you, but it’s nothing you can’t handle.”

“I don’t feel like a real bride,” you admit in an almost defeated tone. You stare at your reflection in the mirror and find yourself carefully brushing your fingers against the crescent moon hanging from your neck. The coolness of the stone against your fingertips brings a sense of comfort to you, but it doesn’t relieve you of your nerves.

“Are you having second thoughts?” Kya asks with a worried furrow of her brows.

“Of course not!” You’re quick to interject. “I love Iroh, I can’t imagine a life without him anymore.”

“But?” Your mother prods.

“But… What if I’m not good at being a wife? What if I’m just not… not good at all. He’s the General and the son of the Fire Lord. What can I give him that he doesn’t already have or that he couldn’t get from a Fire Nation woman here?”

Smiling faintly, Kya gently takes your hands in her own and gives them a comforting squeeze. “That boy loves you more than you could ever know. I see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice when he speaks about you. I wouldn’t have given him my blessing if I wasn’t one hundred percent sure of this. Don’t compare yourself or waste your time wondering about all the what ifs. All you have to do today is focus on Iroh, and everything else will take care of itself.”

You let out a shaky breath and blink back your tears before throwing your arms around your mother in a tight hug. You know she speaks the truth, and her comforting words greatly ease your anxiety. You’d fallen in love with the boy from your childhood, and he’d fallen just as hard for you if not harder. Despite being apart for so many years you’d found your way back to each other and helped one another find the missing piece in your lives. You and Iroh are simply meant to be, and your wedding will be proof that.

A gentle knock on the door has you parting from your mother, and as Bumi sticks his head in the doorway you smile.

“It’s almost time, kiddo,” he says with a grin. “The general’s going to get his socks knocked off when he sees you.”

“Thank you, Uncle Bumi,” you laugh tearfully before allowing him to hug you tight. You don’t know this, but Bumi has always felt a sort of paternal love for you. He was the closest thing you had to a father growing up and you were the closest thing he had to a child, and like your mother he felt so much pride and love at seeing you so happy. He knew you were in good hands, and that was more than enough for him.

“Are you ready?” Kya asks with an encouraging smile. Sucking in one final nervous breath, you nod before taking her arm and beginning your walk to the palace gardens.

In the courtyard a handful of chairs are set up for your intimate ceremony. Only close friends and family are invited, neither you nor Iroh wanted to make a grand spectacle of your marriage, so you decided to hold your wedding in the gardens with his mother Izumi as your officiant.

At the end of the makeshift isle, Iroh stands in his uniform with a fire lily delicately pinned to his lapel. He shifts anxiously from one foot to the other eagerly awaiting for your arrival. He’s been looking forward to this day ever since he proposed to you, and he can’t wait to finally make you his wife after all this time.

“You make a handsome husband, son,” Izumi compliments from her place beside him. “It brings me great joy to see you so happy.”

“Thank you for agreeing to officiate the wedding, mother,” Iroh expresses gratefully.

“I knew it was a matter of time before you two fell in love,” she notes with a careful smile. “I know she’ll make a wonderful wife.”

Beaming with pride, Iroh’s gaze falls upon the garden gates where you finally emerge. Arm linked with Kya’s and with a bouquet of flowers in the other hand, you make the most radiant bride Iroh has ever seen. Your gown flows elegantly behind you as you walk, your hair sparkles from the sunlight hitting the pins, and your smile is enough to take his breath away. He can feel himself beginning to tear up, and it takes everything in him not to rush towards you and take you in his arms himself.

Kya hugs you tight once you reach the end of the isle, doing her best to keep her tears at bay before letting you go. Carefully tucking a stray strand of hair away from your face, she smiles before handing you off to Iroh.

“Take good care of my daughter,” she whispers before chastely kissing his cheek.

The butterflies in your stomach are quieted when you finally reach Iroh. Nothing else but him matters in that moment, and as his golden irises stare into your own you find yourself falling in love all over again.

“You look so beautiful,” he whispers with a tearful laugh.

“So do you,” you smile, carefully wiping your tears so as to not ruin your makeup.

Your ceremony goes without a hitch, and when Izumi officially proclaims you as husband and wife Iroh gracefully dips you before giving you the most passionate kiss you’ve ever experienced. Your family and friends cheer and applaud, but it all fades into the background as you grip his sleeves and melt into his touch.

“I can’t wait to spend forever with you,” he professes earnestly after parting from your kiss.

“Forever and always,” you agree breathlessly before pulling him down by his collar for another kiss.

| atla tags: @nataliahaslosthershit @sirkekselord @chronic-daydreamer @niktwazny303

[irkimatsu]

God will never stop my sinful hand. More Husk/Reader! Clothes stay on but it's still spicy, gonna call 18+ on this one. Husk gets to nut his pants, good for him. You and Husk make out, you discover that his wings are an erogenous zone, and good times are had by all. Completely gender-neutral reader, nothing to point it in any direction gender-wise. This is about making Husk moan, that is all

Your relationship with Husk has progressed over the past few months.

What state it’s progressed to, you’re not quite sure. You’re far from the point of declaring undying love for each other; hell, Husk is hesitant about the word “love” in general. He doesn’t want to say it, and he doesn’t want to hear it. You haven’t had sex with him, either; you have no idea how you’d ask, and he hasn’t broached the subject himself.

But that doesn’t mean that you haven’t done anything together that could be construed as special. Even if he’s in no rush to define whatever it is you two have going on, he’s still shown you plenty of his romantic side. He likes taking you out for dinner and shows, events that are way too fancy for you to merely think of them as friendly outings.

The amount of times you’ve come home from a play to immediately make out in one of your rooms, before falling asleep in the same bed, made things seem even less “friendly”.

You didn’t even need the excuse of a date to start making out. Some nights, like tonight, all it took was some drinks and conversation at the hotel bar before you were both sure that the rest of the hotel was asleep or otherwise absent. As soon as he knew it was safe to close down for the night, the two of you headed up to his room for some soft jazz music and some tender, passionate kissing. He used to be so withdrawn with you, as if afraid you’d shatter if he touched you too firmly, but he’s gotten more bold recently, taking it upon himself to hold you close in his arms.

There’s no way you’d tell him, but you prefer cuddling with him when he’s dressed down like this, only wearing suspenders without a shirt. His fur is so soft and warm, and the fewer layers of clothing between you and it, the better.

You know to be careful with your compliments. He’s confided in you that he can’t stand what he’s become as a demon, and that he wishes he still had his human body.

But you can’t deny it. Some of your favorite parts of him, physically, are the parts that aren’t human.

His hat came off his head shortly into the proceedings, so you’re free to comb your hand through the tuft of hair on his head. It’s much more messy and wild than it is on your dates; he has zero reason to style it when he’s wearing his hat. You love it like this, though. It’s one of the softest things you’ve ever touched. Could human hair ever glide beneath your fingers this wonderfully?

You’re trying not to think of it as “petting” him. You know he hates that word. Perhaps “stroking” would work better for him? You stroke the top of his head, then move down to scratch the back. He stays calm, still kissing you like normal, so you keep moving until both of your hands reach the backs of his ears.

He jolts back from the touch.

“Sorry!” you cry out immediately. “Was that too far?”

“I’m sensitive back there,” he says, one ear still twitching from the contact. “Could you warn me next time?”

“Sorry!” you repeat. You know his irritability isn’t personal against you, but you still hate hearing that tone from him…

“It’s fine,” he says, quickly softening now that the shock is wearing off. “I didn’t hate it. You just gotta warn me before you do stuff like that.”

“Do you want to keep going?” you ask. “I can leave if you want me to.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” He’s smiling again as he pulls you against his body. “Mind doing that again, now that I’m expecting it?”

You nod, and as he resumes kissing your mouth, you go back to scratching his ears. It’s a weird feeling, being able to touch someone like this during a make-out session; but you appreciate the novelty, especially when every inch of him feels so perfect beneath your fingers.

“Can you go lower?” he asks. “While scratching like that?”

You accept his request, scratching your way from his ears to his cheeks. His fur is so thick here, and it’s hard for you to pull your hands away from how divine it feels, but you have so much more to explore. You continue your scratches down to his neck, then to his shoulders. One of his suspender straps slips off while you’re scratching, and you’re dying to see how he looks when he’s slightly disheveled.

But looking would require you to stop kissing him, and you’re not ready to stop yet.

You’re so eager to feel even more of him. You touch him lower, reaching the small of his back and rubbing the spot where his wings meet his body.

He gasps and pulls away from you again. It takes him a moment to catch his breath.

“Husk?” you ask, not entirely sure what you did but already regretting it.

“...shit.” He exhales heavily. “Shit. Haven’t been touched there in a long time…”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Uh…” he laughs nervously. “Not wrong, but… you probably shouldn’t do that. Not unless…” He stops himself and shakes his head. “No. You shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” It didn’t look like it hurt him…

“It’s… an intimate spot.” Even through his fur, you can see him blushing. “Wings are sensitive. You shouldn’t touch them unless you want to turn somebody on.”

That information, combined with the sight of him with his suspender straps hanging off his shoulders, is turning some interesting gears in your head.

A playful smile grows on your face. “So what you’re saying is, if I want to turn you on…” You lean in closer, but don’t touch him yet; it’s up to him to close the gap if he so chooses.

Husk swallows. “If you want to…” He places his paws on your sides, holding you as timidly as he did when things first started. “I don’t wanna rush you into that, though.”

“You’re not rushing me.” You gently kiss his nose and scratch one of his cheeks.

You think you hear a purr in his throat, but you know better than to bring it up.

“Then go ahead,” he says, uttering it quickly to reduce the amount of time he has to spend not holding and kissing you. You quickly get back into the rhythm of things, repeating your hands’ earlier motions. He remains calm as you scratch his ears, his cheeks, his shoulders…

His waist bucks up into you when you touch the base of his wings, but he doesn’t pull away.

You start out slowly and fleetingly, not sure how much pressure he needs to feel the effects of your touches. Clearly it doesn’t take much. Within seconds, he’s squeezing you tightly and moaning into your mouth.

Where else is he sensitive, you wonder? You slowly run your fingertip along the edge of one of his wings, and his whole body shivers against yours.

“Fuck…” he mutters beneath his breath before kissing you again. “Gentle…”

You follow his request, lightly petting his wing with a single finger. It’s still enough to get him to kiss you harder and keep cursing under his breath. You run your finger back down to the joint and start pressing, steadily becoming more firm in your touch to test his reaction.

You eventually reach a point that makes him cry out, then breathe too heavily to kiss you anymore.

“Fuuuuuck…” His eyes are unfocused, and he seems unsure of what to do with himself. “Give me a second…”

You take your hands off of his body to let him compose himself. Once he’s finally aware of his surroundings again, he rests his head on your shoulder and squeezes your waist in his arms. He’s nuzzling his soft cheek against your neck, and you don’t know if it’s making you feel more ticklish or aroused.

Both? Fuck, definitely both.

“Could you scratch under them?” he asks.

You place your hands beneath his wings and begin to scratch the joints from that angle. His feathers brush against your hands as he lightly flaps to your touch, and his hot breaths on your neck are rapidly increasing in strength and tempo.

“Harder,” he moans through gritted teeth, and you comply. The sounds he’s making now are downright lewd, mixed with the occasional inhuman growl. He’s grinding his waist against your leg, and even with his pants still on it’s obvious how excited you’re making him. His current behavior is so undignified for the gentleman who’s been taking you on dates and playing you songs for the past few months.

It’s a side of him you want to see even more of.

“Fuck, I can’t stop…” he squeezes your leg between his own and grinds furiously, his rapid breaths turing into high-pitched whines. “Fuck, fuck-”

You keep on touching him, delighting in how badly it’s making him squirm. 

“Gonna- fuck-” He lifts his waist as if he’s trying to pull away from you, but the death grip his legs have on you won’t allow it. “I can’t-”

“Go ahead,” you assure him, rubbing his wing joints just a little harder.

Whether it’s from the touch or the permission, you’ve awakened something inside him. Still a mess of growls, moans, and whines, he latches his mouth onto the side of your neck and starts nipping while his hips grind furiously into your leg. You moan along with him, fingers digging into his back to keep yourself stable just as much as they are to please him. It’s not long before he’s moaning against your neck as a wet spot pools in the spot where he’s still humping you.

He falls limp in your arms, and you immediately relieve the pressure on his wings, instead choosing to gently stroke his lower back. His breathing is heavy, but steady as he nuzzles into your neck again.

“Fuck…” His vocabulary isn’t the most varied right now.

He seems so spent after that, so you carefully lay him stomach-down on the bed, making certain not to give his surely-sensitive wings the slightest bit of stimulation. He folds his arms beneath his chin, and he laughs.

“Haa… gotta do that again. It’s been forever since I felt that good…”

You’d love to cuddle him in this state, but until you can figure out how to do that without disturbing his wings, you’ll settle for sitting next to him and watching him relax.

“Hey… Husk?” You ask. “I wanna ask you something…”

“Hm?” He doesn’t open his eyes as he answers.

“Would you have let someone else do that? Would you have enjoyed it as much?”

“What are you talking about?” He’s frowning in concern, forehead creased, but still not opening his eyes.

“It’s just… I don’t know what we are. Are we together, or…?”

He reaches out to gently squeeze your hand. “I don’t like putting names on this stuff. It’s just asking for trouble. All I know is that I only want to be touched like that by someone I really trust, and right now, the person I trust that much is you.”

“And if you trusted someone else…?”

He’s laughing again. “Someone else, when I have you already? Not happening. Come on. Lay down with me.”

You lay on your stomach beside him, and he drapes his arm around you and pulls you against his side. His wing descends on you, and he winces slightly from the touch, but it’s not enough to keep him from covering you like a blanket.

“And you know…” he continues. “Not that I wanna control you… but I’d like knowing you don’t touch anyone else like that.”

“Someone else, when I have you already?”

He makes a low, amused noise as you parrot his words back at him. “Okay… good.” He squeezes you close and kisses your cheek. “Now, tell me something else.”

“What is it?”

“I wanna return the favor. Where should I start?”

[hyperfixatedbastard]

Hi i hope you doing well. I have a resquest... more like a headcanon. What if Adam was a dad ? What his behaviour will be ? Does he be a good or a bad father ?

I understand if you don't do it. I don't want to force you for something you don't want to.

Dadam (Dad!Adam) Headcanons

we bringing out the daddy issues on this one boys

WARNINGS: none

A/N: I haven't done a headcanon type of post yet, but they're easier to write than regular one shots and I'm too tired for that shit. The request didn't specify what kind of Reader (spouse or child), so I just went with general headcanons that don't specify the Reader at all. Insert yourself as you wish!

Also, thank you all for your patience! It's been very busy for me lately and I've been too exhausted to write much, so expect a lot more of these kinds of posts (the formatting is easier and I don't have to write a bunch of dialogue lol).

Dividers

As the father of humanity, Adam had...a lot of kids. The guy lived for 800+ years just populating the earth. That's a LOT of kids. We all know how the first two turned out. That is, not fuckin' well. To be honest, I don't think Adam valued his children. It was just kinda... a thing he had to do. (When Abel died and Cain got exiled, he fr just went and had another kid to replace them.) But I am in deep, deep denial and this is for my enjoyment as someone with severe daddy issues. So fuck all that.

At first, Adam is 100% the guy that freaks the fuck out when he finds out he knocked someone up. That man is SWEATING. He's actually pretty chill if it's someone he's in an established long-term relationship with, though. He still freaks the fuck out, but to a significantly lesser degree and with a much smaller chance of up and leaving. Once he's over the initial shock, he's shocked to find that he's kind of excited. Back when he was alive, having kids was just normal because it was such a common occurrence.

This man knows every little detail about pregnancy and infants. With the amount of kids he's had? He has seen it ALL. Sure, all his information is thousands of years old, but knowledge learned through experience is super valuable when it comes to this shit! He doesn't know what the fuck a uterus is, but he knows exactly how to make his partner the most comfortable, how to deal with cravings, etc. If his partner has a problem, he's got a solution. It might be a fuckin' weird one, but it works! He'll probably grumble and complain, but he doesn't actually mean it. Bitching is just his thing, y'know? But... pregnancy hormones + Adam's douchebag-ness = feelings getting hurt. If his partner starts crying because of some shit joke or complaint he made? He's scrambling so fast. "Shit, babe, fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, fuckfuckfuck, don't cry—"

Once the baby is born, he definitely surprises literally everyone but his partner by actually doing helpful shit. Changing diapers? Easy fuckin' peasy (he does watch a tutorial online because he doesn't know how tf modern diapers work but he's a fast learner) Feeding? No problemo. Getting up in the middle of the night to do both of those things? His sleep schedule's already fucked, this shit ain't new.

When it comes to parenting and raising the kid, though... that's definitely where Adam struggles. He'd struggle with bonding. A lot. Adam mostly talks about things that you really shouldn't say around children, much less bond over. I think he'd be better at just letting the kid ramble while he's just sitting there, fully engrossed in whatever bullshit his child is saying. He's not just passively listening with little 'uh-huh's and nods, this man is active in the discussion. Have you ever heard a small child speak? They say the most random shit ever, and Adam would love it. It's peak entertainment to him. Even if it's just incoherent babbling, he'll have full-on conversations with this baby.

He'd definitely have some shared interests as the kid gets older. I think Adam's favorite shows/movies are a mix of action movies and shit like Power Rangers. He's not ashamed of it either—'fuck you, the Power Rangers are fuckin' cool.' This also goes for video games. I know that man is a toxic COD gamer boy and you can't prove me wrong. Basically, the only thing that keeps him from becoming one of those husbands that locks himself away in a man cave to play video games is the fact that he can game with his kid.

And once they get into school, he just gets really invested in the drama. Elementary school drama is such bullshit, and it'd be the best reality TV he's ever seen. "Oh, don't tell me—it's that bitch Cindy. The fuck did that little shit do this time?" He'd be gasping like it's a damn soap opera. 'Oh no she didn't!' kinda vibe.

He'd talk so much shit around his kid about the parents of their classmates, the teachers, anyone. Then the kid would repeat it and Adam would get sat down in the office with his kid like: "Your child said, and I quote, 'My dad says your mom's a bitch.'" "What? She fuckin' is." And yeah, he's not wrong - some of those parents are fucking nightmares.

If his kid got in trouble for fighting, his reaction would depend on the situation. If it was unprovoked and/or a part of bullying, he'd originally laugh it off but would be freaking the fuck out internally. He's probably a little traumatized by what happened with Cain and Abel. But if the fighting was an act of defense (whether of themselves or someone else) he would be the proudest dad ever. Fist-bumps his kid in the office in full view of the principal.

You cannot trust this man to give his kid the sex talk. It just will not go well. Like, if his kid needs advice when they're older (basically anything beyond 'where do babies come from') then he's your guy, but it's still gonna be awkward and uncomfortable. He'd probably have Lute handle most of those issues just so he doesn't have to know about his kid's sex life but can still trust that they have a responsible(?) adult if they have questions.

In terms of where Adam is lacking as a parent, there's a few areas in particular to focus on.

Emotional availability? Not his strong suit. At all. He can't deal with his own feelings, let alone his kid's. Most of the emotional support will be coming from his partner. That doesn't mean he doesn't try. But he can't show it with words all that well. He'll show emotional support in other ways—quality time, gifts, and acts of service for the most part. Like going out for ice cream, watching a movie, etc.

He's not good with discipline. To him, everything's no big deal. If his kid hasn't killed their sibling, that's good enough for him! Generally, his partner will choose when/how to discipline (with Adam's input ofc), but Adam's job is to just enforce it/not overrule it. He's 100% the type to be sneaky about it tho. If his kid is grounded, he'll go out with them to give them a break from being stuck in the house, y'know, stuff like that. Because of this, his kid forms a closer, different kind of bond than with Adam's partner. It's more friendly, I guess is the word? Like, his kid won't go to him for actual helpful advice, but if they fuck up somehow or are in a bad situation that they kinda got themselves into (drinking, car accident, etc.), then Adam is the parent they call.

I think Adam's peak parenting era would be when his kid is a late teen/young adult. 'Cause then he can actually be himself, for the most part. His personality is not very kid-friendly, so once his kid isn't really much of a kid anymore—he is so fucking excited. His relationship with his kid would be a lot more unconventional as they grow older. Like, he's really close with his kid once they're an adult. (totally not basing this off my relationship with my mom) His advice would be shit, but he'd give it if his kid needed it!

Definitely the type to text his kid more often than most parents. Mostly because he texts more like them and has the same sense of humor. Lots of shitty memes.

Also!! I think Adam would definitely make time for his partner. Date nights are a must. His kid better get comfortable with sleepovers at friends' houses or getting babysat by Emily 'cause he ain't letting parenthood fuck up his sex life.

I think that's all I got. Not sure how to end this so uh... shoutout to all you bitches with daddy issues lmao

Taglist: @little-miss-chaoss @fakeguysarehot @3sire-777

[spidercomics]

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 (𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆).

pairing(s): avatar!jake x f!na'vi!reader.

summary: "all the things you want to do, just relax and i'll take care of you" ─ being the olo'eyktan's oldest daughter, you rarely take time to enjoy yourself. luckily, jake knows how to make you loosen up.

contents: established relationship, talks about missing meals, kissing, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, riding, m/f ejaculation, overstimulation (kinda).

wc: 2.59k

a/n: normally i dont like the uh, "neytiris sister" shit but, here we go ig, tried not to mention her too much, felt kinda guilty 😭😭 bear with me on this one, haven't written since april. i cant believe i wrote fucking alien sex

glossary:

"yom wutsot"; eat (your) meal/food.

"rutxe"; please.

all your life, you'd strived to be perfect. you'd be constantly disappointed in yourself if you didn't exceed expectations in every task and skill you tried to master. you were also scared of failure, one of the main issues as to why you got so much stress and anxiety when stuff didn't work out as planned, or things changed last minute. it was a big problem for you, until jake came along.

jake was carefree, one; because he came from an entirely different planet, he didn't know anyone and didn't have anyone to disappoint or impress, and two; he was just a free spirit. he lived now, he did what he wanted, and he didn't look back. jake had the mindset you'd love to have.

all you ever wanted to hear was that someone was proud of you, not how you could improve, not what you could to better next time — no, you wanted to hear that you did well, make you feel like you've accomplished something, not just gotten better at it.

jake had filled that place, reminding you often how proud he is and sometimes playing extra dumb just to somehow boost your confidence. he's cocky, but he doesn't come close to the amount of skills you have, he'll admit that much.

sitting by the fire, jake didn't listen to the conversation neytiri and tsu'tey tried to involve him in. he was grateful of them trying to make him feel included, but he also felt kinda like a burden; since he restricted them from using their native tongue around him — just so he'd understand. it was nice, but unnecessary in this case when he didn't pay attention to them anyway.

he was eyeing the clusters of families and friends around the fire, but he didn't see you. you weren't there.

jake knew there was an annual feast coming up, and knowing you, it had to be perfect. you were probably working your ass of planning it somewhere, and here he was, enjoying a meal and talking to his friends.

selfish.

you heard someone walking into your tent, jake had a certain scent, and along with the way he always dragged his heavy feet around, you had heard him coming. knowing it was jake, you didn't make a move to acknowledge him.

"y/n?"

the sigh you let out before answering almost made him nervous, "ma jake."

he loved how you said his name.

"i brought you dinner."

"i have already ate." he hated how you didn't even turn around to answer him, too occupied with weaving finishing touches to decorative cloths.

"don't lie," walking up to you, jake lazily set down the bowl on a nearby surface, crouching down and resting his hands on your shoulders, "you need to take a break, you've been sitting here since morning."

"it needs to be perfect jake, the feast is tomorrow and mother keeps telling me how this is a big celebration of me completing the passage."

"everything will look perfect, don't be so harsh on yourself," jake reached over to grab the bowl of food before sitting in front of you, now in your line of sight. you didn't look up tho, not until he handed you the food and it smelled so good your insides started making an embarrassingly loud noise, "yom wutsot."

this made you look up. jake didn't use na'vi more than necessary, but whenever he did, he sure got your attention. you wanted him to speak it more, it would help him learn it better too. you grabbed the bowl, and jake let a small, smug smile grace his face in celebration.

jake let you eat without talking your ear off (as he usually would), and instead letting himself observe the beautiful patterns you've chosen to weave. he didn't understand why you were being so hard on yourself, as if the work wouldn't be appreciated no matter how it looked. maybe not by your parents to a full, but by the people. you were a role model for everyone already, you didn't have to prove yourself anymore.

watching you stand up and moving across the tent to leave the bowl, he had been on his feet not long after — reaching for your empty hands. he engulfed your smaller ones in his own, and using the grip to start swaying with you. you let out a small laugh, before leaning your head in his neck and enjoying the solid warmth he gave you. skin on skin, jake closed his eyes, feeling your hands now laying flat against his upper back, pushing him impossibly closer. one of his hands wrapped around your waist, starting to control your swaying, and the other grabbing the back of your neck, occasionally moving your hair through his fingers.

your breathing fell in rhythm with his own, feeling the slight brush of air against the nape of his neck. your heartbeat had slowed considerably, the complete warmth and comfortable hold of jake calming you down from the stressed out state he found you in. jake's heart, on the other hand, had picked up. your fingers tracing his back sent chills up his spine, in the best way possible, and he would never get enough of how easy you made him melt into a mess.

jake was sure that you could throw a dagger into his chest and his heart would still be whole, beating for you, until his death. you hadn't mated yet, and with the frequent attacks from the rda, jake wanted it over with — to connect before it was too late, wanting to feel your souls connecting like they were meant to, atleast once.

your hands traced around his torso, palms against his chest before straightening yourself, your hands around his shoulders, swaying with him. jake was holding your waist, leaving small kisses on the top of your hair, he leaned his head down to connect his forehead against yours. he felt your tail rubbing his leg slightly, a little shocked when it circled his thigh to pull him closer, forcing your lips to meet in a kiss. jakes hands dropped lower, grabbing your hips in his hold and enjoying the slight purring bouncing around your chest when he rubbed his hands on the seam of your cloth, moving his lips fiercely against your own.

jake would do anything for you to de-stress, and if this is what it took, he wouldn't complain.

one of his hands trailed lower, a simple grip on the back of your thigh. when you playfully swatted his hand with your tail he let out a deep chuckle, seperating your lips with a smirk on his lips.

"lay down for me." it wasn't a question, and you didn't think for a second before detaching yourself from jake, laying down on the rugs and blankets displayed across the tent.

jake watched how you sat up, untying your top piece and tossing it away to the side for later. you leaned down on your forearms, legs bent, feet planted against the ground. jakes ears started immediately twitching, tail swaying excitedly. it was so easy to rile him up.

jake got down on his knees, placing soft kisses along your legs, getting closer and closer to the place you desired him the most. he took his time, if it was for his own pleasure or for the sake of teasing, you didn't know. he nipped at your soft thighs, enjoy the way your mouth dropped open, soft mewls escaping when he left small hickeys on the inside of them, claiming you, even if it was somewhere he wished no one would see them except him.

his hands found themselves untying the second piece covering you, admiring the way your cunt looked so smooth, so wet. so wet, it had him twitching under his own loincloth, he couldn't wait to devour you. it wasn't the first time he'd done this, but he still felt so giddy each time, even if what you were doing was nothing close to innocent. he wanted to be the one undressing you forever, the one to worship your body, the ground you walked on.

jake traced two fingers along your core, experimentally dipping a finger inside and feeling the way you clenched at the intrusion of his finger. he kept pushing it in, coming to a hilt and listening to your small, inaudible mumbles. he pulled it out, toying with your slit as your chest heaved slightly, heartbeat racing significantly.

"ma jake, rutxe," jake pushed a finger in, pulling it out again, and redoing the same motions. his thrusts became steady, and brought you immense pleasure. his thumb traced along your cunt, landing on your clit, rubbing slow circles around it.

it was a sight for sore eyes, your wet cunt, only for him to cherish, twitching and clenching around his fingers, sucking him in for more. you had him absolutely entranced. he would stay in this position forever if he could.

"jake, please, can you just— oh," his tongue replaced his eager thumb, licking a stripe up your slit, collecting your arousal. his thrust had picked up, adding a finger, he watched your back arch up a bit, your eyes closed from the new added pressure against your already slick walls.

jake payed close attention to the soft sighs and mewls you let out, adjusting his fingers to reach even deeper. jake felt his chin covered in your essence, and he wondered if any other man had found themselves lucky enough to be in his position. a man could only dream to find themselves between your thighs like jake is, tasting every piece of you, cherishing your body with more love than his heart could withhold.

his fingers found the spot inside of you that made your hand desperately grasp at his soft hair, the shorter strands getting caught between your fingers, pushing him closer to your heat. he let out a satisfied groan, enjoying the way you pulled on his dark locks, fingers digging into his scalp.

the thrusts of his fingers were calculated and steady. a slowly increasing pace, with a force that made your body shiver, and a hand laying hard on you hip, sure to leave a purple mark in the morning. every prod and drag had a coil tightening in the pit of your stomach, a fire growing inside of you. the soft pleas and sighs, along with the wet squelch from his constant thrusts had his dick twitching. he was so hard, he started considering rubbing himself against the rug for the slightest pleasure.

the overwhelming feeling of your orgasm washed over you. the long-awaited feeling that had you absolutely seeing stars. as cliche as it was. a hand wrapped around your wrist that was in his hair, a soft kiss was placed against your palm and then you felt the man that had spent minutes between your thighs grabbing you, pulling you up and out of your hazy state to sit in his lap.

your mouth dropped open from the overwhelming feeling of his bulge against your bare sex. quickly detaching yourself, sitting up on your knees to calm yourself down before taking it any further. jakes hand rubbed against your head, fingers tracing from the top of your head down to your neck, waiting for your body to relax.

"you good?"

"mhm, felt so good jake, you're so good," jake didn't know if you would even remember this conversation, but it still left him a little flustered. your praise always had that effect on him, his ears falling flat. jake felt your hands reaching behind him to untie the cloth covering him from you, his eyes falling shut when your smaller hand touched the tip of his dick, "so pretty."

your eyes were casted downwards, your words merely a muttering to yourself. regardless of him hearing it or not, it was true, and it left his eyes falling shut from just the smallest pressure on the slit of his tip. leaning against him, you rubbed yourself on his dick, his hands had find solace on your hips, your knees constricting against his own. your head was leaning back, jake's forehead laying on top of your chest, eyes closed in pure pleasure.

his cock bumped against your clit, leaving your mouth open in silent moans, jake striving to keep doing the same movements over and over again. you wondered how something could feel so intimate and wonderful, without even connecting queues. your hands held the sides of his throat, fingers splayed across his jaw. keeping his head bent down between your breasts, a few kisses left on your soft skin.

"can i...?" you looked down at where jake was preparing to line himself up with your slick entrance, an eager nod from you left him pushing inside slowly, a groan leaving him when your tight walls sucked him in more and more, deeper and deeper, "so tight, so good for me... oh fuck— such a good girl, taking me so well."

you barely heard the last part, his voice breaking into small pants when you moved yourself up and down on him, the back of your thighs slamming down on his with every drop of your body.

"don't hold back on me baby, i wanna hear you," with his encouragement, you let yourself be a little louder, still aware of the people around the camp, outside of the tent. jake didn't seem embarrassed at all, rather proud of having you instead, glad to let as many people as possible know that he's the only one who can have you this way. you were his. with or without the bond.

beginning to set an alright pace for yourself, you let yourself relax further into his hold, feeling every shift of him against you — inside you. the way he grabbed your hips, ragged breaths fanning across your bare chest, small kisses being placed across your breasts and nipples, rough from the night air nipping away at your damp bodies.

jakes hand found its way back between your legs, his thumb rubbing slowly against your clit, bringing the pleasure to new heights. your mewls got louder, your tail wagging behind you in sharp twists, ears flat. he knew you were close, he'd seen the sweet sight before him too many times. he glanced up at your pretty face, forehead glistening from the overhead lights, sweaty from the long session of pleasures. jake hadn't even noticed his own orgasm coming, too distracted by the way your eyes closed shut, mouth open in the sweetest form of intimacy. he wanted to hold you in his arms forever.

"ma jake," your hand drifted to grab the back of his head, soft hair back between your fingers, bringing him back to the scene, the image of his dreams playing out in front of him. you were so close, desperately wanting the man who was all around you, in you, to be with you at the finishing line, "come with me jake, please, need you jake," how could he possibly resist you? resist your pleas?

"i got you, let go for me." he held you close, thumb circling your clit with more pressure as you writhed on his lap, body falling limp against him, face tucked into his neck. the way you clenched around him had him coming seconds after yourself. hand petting your hair, words of affection all around you as his other hand traced along your spine.

he couldn't wait to have you like this forever. officially.

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