#i refuse to give Innocence a break. normally? she looks beautiful. what that mean? i have Got to fuck up her hair

[spotsupstuff]

What do you think the cannon iterators would look like as ancients?

Nice, i wanted to try my hand at that- prolly smth like this? not really happy with Pebs ain't gon lie... dammit my boyo

saying "canon iterators" is always like challenging me to dare and remember Sliver GJDKSLCKL

[sanctified-silence]

Statement of Grian... no last name, huh. Statement of Grian, regarding luring fishing experience. Original statement was given 12 of February, 2024. Audio recorded by [static] the head archivist of [static]. Statement begins.

I've never been quite into fishing before. Not much of surprise, I probably don't look the type, I know. And I don't think I am "into" fishing now, to be crystal clear. Actually, I think that I won't be able to even think of fishing after all this is done. I will just try my best to forget this ever happen and come back to the architecture.

It was meant to be a break, okay? I was in quite the burn out recently. Work, work, work and more work just piled up my back, not giving me any room for breathing. More projects, more calculations, more designs, more thrown out expensive paper. More awful people I have to deal with to explain why their idea of the architecture and exterior design not only majorly impractical, but also dangerous. And I was having none of it.

Of course, when I saw that damn advert, I didn't hesitate to throw it all far away for some needed pause. Here, I wrote down exactly what it was saying.

[There's an attachment to the file of a small paper, on which was written down the words "Stillwaters Paradise - the best place to relax and take it slow, while the time swirls around you". There's also some artistic rendition of what the advert looked like in a rather sketchy drawing of lake and forest]

The next thing I know I was at that park, paying for my stay. I remember the woman that met me at the counter. Something about her gave me the willies, maybe it was her almost white grey eyes, that seemed a bit big for her face, that stared at me with distant expression. Her hair were sticking to her face and neck in way they would if they were wet. She reminded me of a dead fish, holding her lips slightly open.

She asked me if I'd like the fishing equipment go into my check. At first I tried to refuse, but her eyes made me feel dizzy as she was talking about how great this park is for all fishermen, so I reluctantly agreed.

At first I was just taking a nice stroll around the park, taking in the nature, since it was beautiful, haven't visited that many natural resources in the UK, or anywhere, for that matter, but the place was gorgeous, full of different trees and flowers. What I did notice however was that it was quiet. Uncanny quiet, I mean. No birds, no flies, no mosquitos, no anything. Just the sound of leaves moving on the wind.

It weirded me out a lot, but I wrote it off as me being stressed and overworked or something. Coming to a lake, I noticed multiple sets of fishing equipment in the shack nearby, I remembered that I actually payed for it, so might as well make my money worth, I figured and took one. I know, it sounds kinda stupid in hindsight, but I didn't know at the time that it's not a common practice. As I said, never was a fishing guy.

There were a couple of people who were fishing there already. None of them greeted me or even glanced at me, when I came down to a shore. Weird, but I just thought it's because they were really concentrated on what they were doing. They still creeped me out so I took a place as far of them as I could. I tried to make sense of the fishing equipment stuff I got, it seemed pretty straight forward from sidelines. And soon the float was in the water, innocently bobbing around.

At first it was somewhat normal I caught a couple of small fish, no clue what they are, but they gave enough of rush of emotion to continue on fishing.

I was staring at the float, there it was making a small circles on the water surface, I felt my eyelids get heavier and it took me a lot of strength to keep the open. My stomach started making that weird feeling of my very insides rotating, like unsettled bad lunch. There was this float. Bobbing. With time the circles of waves it was making started slowly spiraling inwards. No, the whole water surface around it started bending in those shapes without a proper form, shifting, breathing. Same is for my fishing rod.

Well, the rod in my hands stood unchanged, maybe a bit sharper and pointy than it's supposed to, but it was still normal. It's the fishing line, it's spun on itself and then in the next moment there was two. Three, four, six, ten, all different, with the same float, but they bounced on those weird waves that made no sense in their own manner. A few of them were pulled down as if the were getting the fish.

I tried to pull, but to no avail, the fish, or whatever was biting the bait was far stronger than me, but I could pull the other ones with no problem. It is then I looked into the sky, I don't remember why, maybe because I needed to stop my eyes from hurting, or maybe it was my growing headache, but there was no relief for either of them up there. Because all of the sky was in those fractal impossible shapes. Even the sun, it looked cartoon almost, bright, but not blinding. Headache inducing.

I got up from my fishing spot and immediately regretted it, the wildest vertigo I ever felt made me dizzy, I closed my eyes, trying to find a balance, but when I opened them again, I felt even more sick. I was standing in the sky, fishing. One of the rods caught on the sky's fractal and I tugged. I wish I didn't.

When I pulled, the whole damn sky was swept away under my feet and swirled, becoming this mess of blue, orange, yellow, green and white, trying to mix with water and surroundings of the park. The colours were bright, the edges of this swirl were sharp and it cut me and my clothes in multiple places, I think it even broke one of my nails. But it called me. It hurt to look, to touch, to even hear, because the noise was nothing I ever thought was possible, but I stepped into it. And another step, going further and further.

Just like that it was over.

Another visitor of the park was shaking me violentely, as we stood in the lake, knee deep. There was no rod in my hands. Actually there was nothing on my hands or arms or anywhere on me for that matters those deep painful cuts that I thought was there a moment ago. I looked back at where my fishing spot was, where also supposed to be the fish I caught. There was no fish there.

After that with half wet pants I drove off, back home. Far from this weird place. I remember the look of something I can only interpret as hungry disappointment in the face of the woman at the front desk.

I had a several nightmares after that, all far too bright and confusing. I remember standing in the fishing store, looking at equipment, but I have no recollection of going in. I found a rod by my door in one of the mornings. Sold it immediately. I found myself even driving the road to this park at multiple times, but turned around as soon as I understood where I was going.

Today was a first day when I took a shower without feeling like the drain collected a swirling light with the water.

[m-r-nicely]

Returning the Favor

Bela Dimitrescu x OC

Word Count: 1629

Chapter Summary: Bela has gotten used to most of Seraphine's habits and routines. What happened the night she breaks them?

_______________

Seraphine flopped onto a soft surface as Bela shut the library doors. She readjusted herself on the cushions, thankful for her pants preference, so her legs weren't hanging off the side of the furniture. Bela walked around, skimming the titles and authors to find a particular book.

"Looking for this?" Bela turned around at the sound of the youngest and her cheerfully taunting tone.

Daniela held the Bethany Wiggins book in her hands. She made sure not to open it, not wanting to see what would happen if the bookmark fell out of this particular book. Bela was going to say something, but her sister had already moved to plop down next to Seraphine on the couch. She draped her arm around the human's shoulder.

"You don't mind if I read with you, right Sera?" Daniela batted her eyelashes at Seraphine, bringing out a mischievous and knowing smile from the latter.

She leaned her head on the youngest Dimitrescu's shoulder. Her words were spoken innocently but had a playful and devious undertone, "Actually, would you read it to me Dani?" She dramatically laid her arm over her forehead and raised the pitch of her voice, "I am suddenly feeling quite faint."

Bela wanted to be upset at the two for very obviously trying to instigate her, but then they would have the satisfaction of their games working. She rolled her eyes and made her move toward the sofa. Upon approaching she saw there was no space to sit.

As if on cue, Daniela gasped, "Oh my. Sera...it appears we are on the loveseat," Seraphine was practically snickering as she already knew where this was going. "Does that mean you are," a dramatic pause, "in love with me?"

Bela had Seraphine on her lap before Daniela even finished the word love. The two younger women laughed at the reaction they inevitably got from the eldest Dimitrescu. Bela huffs, knowing they mean no harm and she actually tends to enjoy their light teasing. Seraphine snatches the book from Daniela. Bela allows her sister to lay her head on half of her lap as she shifts so Seraphine would be more next to her with the human's legs draped over her own. She runs her fingers through the youngest Dimitrescu's hair as Seraphine opens Stung to the bookmarked page and begins reading aloud.

----------

Bela blinked in response. She understood, but she didn't understand. Why would prey offer their blood to a predator? While Bela initially was shaking her head, Seraphine would remain steadfast and, as Bela predicted before, stubborn.

Another month passed with this back and forth of Seraphine offering her blood and Bela telling her off. Why Bela was refusing something that, in normal circumstances, she wouldn't have hesitated to take with or without permission, she herself had not the slightest of clues. Maybe she felt guilty for the bruises on the human's back, or the one around her neck. This particular human did save her life, so not killing her would just be common curtesy.

Over that month Bela had observed the human cook, clean, go hunting, travel into the village, give her guest a tour of her home, show her how to keep the water warm and not freeze when bathing, and then she finally trusted Bela enough to give her back her sickle.

With all of this, Bela had learned to calculate the average amount of time each of the usual tasks took Seraphine to complete. While cooking, cleaning, sleeping and bathing would vary, she noticed the woman never hunted past dusk and never stayed in the village for over six hours. Having learned this, it sparked some concern in Bela when it had reached late into the night and her host had yet to return from hunting. It was beautiful weather in the early morning, but there was a rather sudden blizzard in the evening. She was pacing in the living space while she contemplated what might have happened to the woman. Should she go out to find the woman? No, how would Bela help Seraphine if she herself was dead from the cold?

Bela needed something to distract herself so her mind would stop coming up with scenarios in which Seraphine did not return. Despite not liking how attached she had become to the younger woman; she made her way to the woman's room. There was a shelf with some books displayed upon it, at least one had to pique her interest.

Turns out the two women had similar taste in what they chose to read. Bela had already read most of what Seraphine owned, but two books stood out as unfamiliar titles.

The first was Tick Tock by a Dean Koontz, a title and author the vampire was unaware existed until now. The other had a bookmark peeking out from between the pages. It was Stung by Bethany Wiggins.

As tempting as the latter was, Bela wanted to know what exactly Seraphine was reading, she respected that it was likely off limits at the moment. She remembered one time when Daniela had chosen a book Bela was reading and she forgot to put the bookmark back in after it fell out. Bela ignored the youngest for two months. So, the vampire picked up the Dean Koontz novel and left to sit down at the table in the living area.

Surprisingly, the book held her interest for about three more hours, her attention only diverting when the door to the house swung open.

The first thing Bela could smell was blood. She wasn't unfamiliar with the scent, but this was particularly potent.

Fresh.

The hunched figure was clearly in pain as they pushed the door back into place. Bela put the book down, not caring that she'd lost the page she was on, moving slowly towards what certainly smelled like Seraphine.

The human in mind turned around to expose her shivering and bloodied form. One hand clung to her coat so tight her knuckles were almost as pale as Bela's skin, while the other was pressed defensively over her chest. The blood was not only soaking through her clothes but also dripping onto the wooden boards beneath their feet. This was the second time Bela found her thoughts being easily predicted by this human.

"It was a lycan," voice hoarse and strained, "I left behind the doe I had to get away." Seraphine hobbled further into her home as she spoke.

Seraphine made her way to the bathroom and shut the door. Bela took this time to clean up the blood and snow that had dripped onto the floor. Why she felt the need to clean like some maid, she refuses to even try to fathom. After waiting yet hearing no sounds of water run, Bela was hesitant, but eventually she lightly tapped her knuckles against the door.

"Seraphine?" she questioned. There was some muffled shuffling behind the door.

After a full moment without a response Bela announced she was entering the room and took in the trembling form standing in front of her. Where was the snarky and confident woman that she had become so familiar with? What exactly happened out there? Bela reached her hand out and Seraphine kept her eyes fixated on the movement. The human winced but did not object when Bela, as gently as she could manage, pulled the coat and shirt from her body.

A deep gash starting from the sternum that traveled down slightly to the right and hooked back around to just under the left breast. It looked to have been caused by a single clean swipe.

What did this? A lycan should have left a bite, a rough or torn scratch, and definitely some bruises. There was no way a lycan caused this, even with a weapon.

Bela had sat still that first day she woke up and allowed Seraphine to treat her wounds, so she saw no problem in returning the favor by doing the same for Seraphine now. When she moved around the woman to draw a bath, she could feel the human's eyes follow her. Making sure the temperature was one she knew Seraphine deemed good enough, not thinking about how she knew, Bela allowed the tub to fill. She turned to find the smaller woman stock still and watching every move she made. What Bela thought was a bit odd was how she didn't feel uncomfortable by the staring. Bela moved slowly, to allow Seraphine the chance to refuse the assistance or the touch, as she carefully undressed the trembling human standing in front of her.

When the tub had filled to a reasonable amount Bela stopped the water flow and gestured for Seraphine to step into the bath. The human made no move to do so. If anything, it seemed like she took a tiny step back. This didn't upset Bela, who prided herself on her patience, but she needed to get the woman into the tub to clean her wounds before treating them. Moving slowly again, Bela tried to gently lift Seraphine, who was shaking even more at the action, into her arms and turned around. Lowering the woman into the warm water was easy. Bela was pretty sure she heard a knock but ignored it.

Being unsure of what to do next Bela asked, "Would you prefer me to let you bathe on your own?" She saw Seraphine's eyes glisten with gathering tears as the woman subtly nodded her head.

----------

Bela feels soft finger pads run from her temple to her cheek. She let her eyes focus on what was in front of her.

"Hey," Seraphine whispered, "you still with me?"

Bela turned her head, "Of course," and lightly nipped at the fingertips resting near the corners of her mouth.

[mercy-burning]

Trouble

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader decides to cause a little trouble on vacation.

Category: SMUT (18+)

Warnings: Language, sex (dom!Spencer, hair pulling, spanking, female masturbation, rough sex, light choking, oral sex- male receiving, crying during sex, degradation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cum play / if I missed anything, please let me know!)

Word Count: 6.6k

Full Requests: 

+ “...this is for dom spencer/post prison spencer!! okay so you guys are all out with the team on like a team vacation type thing! you decide to wear the cutest and smallest black bikini and tease spencer the whole day. and i mean tease him!! after you guys all separate off for the night he punishes you! spanks you and fucks you until you’re a whimpering mess! maybe you even fall into sub space and his aftercare is 10/10 amazing!!” — @slutforthegubes​ 

 + “A one-shot for reader being bratty for being clingy in front of the team, so then he punishes her by spanking, edging ect?” — @smexyreid​ 

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

NOTE: I actually had a fluff planned for today, but I’ve been feeling rather ~spicy~ lately, so I hope this is alright 😉😂

***

Normally you didn't like to get into trouble on vacations. And really, who did? Vacations were meant to be relaxing, a way to kick back, relax, and take a break from the monotony of day-to-day life. Not to mention you and the team were far over-due for one of those breaks.

So naturally, your instincts would tell you to do just that: relax. Right?

Wrong.

You couldn't help it. As of late, your sex life was getting... interesting, to say the least. And now more than ever you were always in the mood for trouble; Whether it meant purposely bending over in the office (right in front of your boyfriend, where everyone else was in the room and he couldn't do anything about it) or touching yourself without permission, also sometimes right in front of him.

Bottom line: right now you were looking for trouble. And you knew exactly where to find it.

Trouble, in this case, took the form of a skimpy black bikini you'd spotted while shopping for the trip. it was barely a bathing suit at all, held together by thin strings that you knew would fall apart with just a mere little tug. And if that wasn't enough to entice you, it had little lace detailing that you knew would drive him insane.

Your body practically burned with desire as it sat in a bag in the backseat of your rental car, Spencer's hand on your thigh burning equally as hot.

"You feel really warm," he noted, giving your leg a comforting squeeze. "Are you okay? If you're not feeling well we can stay behind..."

"No, I'm fine," you answered truthfully with a smile. "I'm just really excited to take some time off. Lord knows we need it."

"Yeah, I know... I just wish we weren't going somewhere so... water-y..."

You laughed, placing your hand on top of his and giving it the same reassuring squeeze he'd given you. "It'll be fun. Trust me, you'll have a great time."

He didn't sound so sure about that, but he didn't know the plan you had cooked up. He was going to have fun on this trip whether he thought so or not.

***

The resort was beautiful. Hell, beautiful was nowhere near the right word for it. It was everything you'd always dreamed about, just like those fancy commercials that showed people in big pools, surrounded by palm trees and workers with white polo shirts who brought you whatever you wanted.

And the hotel rooms you stayed in? They were immaculate. It may have seemed like you were exaggerating, but honestly, you felt like a princess. The bed was just about the most comfortable thing you'd ever had the pleasure of laying on, the view was incredible, sweeping over the resort with a beautiful sunrise every morning, and the complimentary robes and towels were heavenly.

You never wanted to leave.

"Remind me to give Rossi a big hug the next time I see him," you sighed as you rolled over in bed and snuggled into Spencer's side.

He laughed softly into your hair and pulled you closer. "I know it's only been a day, but I could stay here forever. In this bed, with you..."

You smiled, feeling your heart warm at his words. "Me, too... But if you think you're gonna get out of today by being charming, then you're sorely mistaken."

Yesterday, the day you all arrived, you made a plan with Spencer: that first day would be spent settling in and having dinner with the team, going out for drinks and relaxing. And then the next day (today), you were all going to spend the day outside, enjoying the sun and enjoying each others' company. He wasn't too fond of the idea spending all day outside in the heat, but you were sure that by the end of the night he would have found it very rewarding.

Because today was the day you were initiating your plan. Since you would be in public (and you knew your boyfriend wasn't a fan of being too publicly affectionate), you were going to tease him as much as you could. You knew it would kill him, not being able to touch you in front of everyone, and you also knew it would make him mad. Most likely, he would warn you to drop it, and you would feign innocence, continuing on your merry way and proceed with the plan. And if you knew him as well as you thought, chances are he would tolerate you all day, barely putting up with your antics until you were alone for the night.

And then? Then you were hoping he would punish the hell out of you. Because honestly, nothing got your blood pumping faster than when he called you names... When he spanked you, or choked you, or refused to let you come. Or even when he did the opposite and made you orgasm so many times you cried from the overstimulation.

But you knew that whatever punishment he decided this time, it was going to be absolutely delicious.

Just the thought of it made you clench your thighs together, and Spencer seemed to notice; He brought one of his hands down to rest between them, feeling the dampness that was forming through the fabric of your underwear.

"Someone's excited this morning," he mused, pressing a kiss to your forehead as his middle finger pushed the fabric aside and gently glided through your pussy.

You sucked in a breath, nuzzling into his neck and failing to hide a smile. "Well, since we're gonna be out and about all day, don't you think we should do something about that?"

Spencer laughed again, this time slipping his finger all the way inside you, causing you to gasp out.

"That sounds like a fantastic idea, princess."

***

To say you were anxious would have been an understatement.

Because of the material of your cover-up dress, no one could see what you had on underneath unless you took it off. In reality it was more like a summer dress, landing just above the knee in a pretty black floral pattern. Your hair was up in a clip for easy taking-down, and cheap dollar-store sunglasses sat firmly on the bridge of your nose.

And just the knowledge of what was hiding beneath your seemingly innocent get-up had your stomach twisted in knots. Even as Spencer swung your hand in his as the two of you made your way to the lounge area, you pictured that same hand fisting the sheets as his wrapped around your throat while he fucked you absolutely senseless.

You hadn't even realized you were squeezing his hand so tight until he wiggled his fingers and gently nudged you with his shoulder. "You've been... squirmy and tense lately, are you sure you're alright?"

Your hand loosened its grip on his, and then you brought them up to kiss the back of his hand. "I'm fine, just excited to be in the sun all day, that's all."

There was some degree of truth to your words, but he didn't have to know that.

So, to convince him you really were fine, you practically jumped once you reached the gateway to the pool and lounge area, spotting all your friends as they waved you over. Spencer laughed as you parted from him and started walking a little faster.

"Someone's eager," Rossi mused from his chair, a glass of lemonade in his hand.

As Spencer approached behind you, Luke snickered. "Not eager enough, apparently. They're late. What were you lovebirds up to, eh?"

"Alvez, if you have to ask, you probably couldn't handle the answer," Tara said with a snicker of her own.

Funny thing was, she was absolutely right. And it made your stomach twist into even bigger knots just thinking about what happened just an hour before you left the room.

Thankfully the mood was kind enough to shift, courtesy of JJ removing her sheer cover-up and taking her sunglasses off with them. "Anyone up for a light morning swim before more people show up?"

You weren't sure whether or not it was a good idea... Did you want to start your teasing so early on that by the end of the day it was going to be an even bigger struggle to keep your hands off of Spencer, silently begging him to whisk you away and have his way with you? But what if he held out and decided to cut the day off early? If that was the case, he'd most likely drag out your punishment for hours, and is that something you wanted?

Your mind swam in a current of filthy images and possible scenarios, all of which were too damn good to pass up.

So, you counted yourself in and handed Spencer your bag, to which he gladly took and then planted a kiss on your forehead.

You waited until he was settled down, sitting at the table with Rossi—who also decided to hang back—to start removing your accessories.

The first to go was the sunglasses, easy and still unsuspicious. You were going to remove the hairclip first, but then an idea came to mind, so you easily slid out of the cover-up and let it fall to the ground.

Spencer's jaw dropped open at about the same speed, though he quickly closed it to seemingly remain unbothered. The smallest of smirks played across your lips as you bent down to pick the garment up. And you took your sweet time, purposely struggling to get it between your fingers. At one point, you had it halfway up before you 'accidentally' dropped it again, mumbling a curse under your breath.

But eventually you gave up the charade, successfully grabbing the dress and holding it out to Spencer. "Would you put this in my bag for me, babe?"

"Uh huh," he muttered, his hands practically shaking when he took it from you.

To add sugar to the pot, you took a step towards him and kissed him chastely on the mouth, just before taking the clip from your hair and shaking it out like in the movies. Truthfully you weren't sure if it was as sexy as they always made it seem, but judging by your boyfriend's inability to look at you, you figured it did the trick.

You turned and made your way to the pool then, leaving him behind with a little extra spring in your step.

***

Your swim extended until lunch time at around noon, where everyone gathered at their table. There were about thirty of these tables all around the pool, each attaching a tall umbrella to keep from the sun.

Though Spencer had seemed rattled and more shocked than anything at your outfit reveal before, now he just seemed calm. Oddly calm.

As you opened a beer, you looked over at him. "You okay, baby?"

"Yep. I'm all good."

He clearly wasn't. His hand twitched under the table, and it made your stomach flutter with butterflies as you wondered what he was thinking. Was he thinking about fucking you out here in front of everyone? Was he imagining and concocting ways to make sure you knew how much of an affect you had on him later? The thought of all of it excited you to the point of squirminess again.

It was safe to say that Spencer noticed. His hand reached out and brushed your knee about ten minutes into lunch, and it sent a jolt of electricity through you. He was never this way in public, but now he was full-on gripping your knee under the table and slowly sliding it up and up and up...

"Excuse me? Do you guys have an extra chair we could use by chance?" A voice sounded from the other side of you, and you jumped as Spencer quickly removed his hand from you.

But then you got another idea.

"Oh, here, you can use mine," you told the voice, which belonged to a middle-aged woman in a blue one-piece and a sun hat.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be any trouble..."

You stood up and smiled at her, handing over your chair as you insisted. "It's not a problem. Really."

"Thank you," she returned with a smile. "Have a great day."

"You, too!" you called as she walked off with the chair. You turned to Spencer with a smile. "You don't mind if I sit on your lap, right?"

He didn't answer, only shifted in the chair, and that gave you all the permission you needed. So you promptly sat down between his legs, and you snuggled as close to him as you could, making sure to wiggle a little more than needed without being too obvious as your friends continued chatting. Spencer's left hand gripped your hip so tightly you thought he was going to leave bruises.

That excited you more than it probably should have.

So to test your luck, you placed your hand over the top of his and drew little patterns into the back of his hand. Your other hand worked at occasionally grabbing fries to eat.

What you didn't expect was for Spencer to ask for one. Really, you didn't think much of it, though those butterflies returned in your lower belly when he ate the fry right out of your hand, bringing his face to rest right above your shoulder. Before he pulled away, he whispered just inconspicuously enough to avoid raising any red flags.

"Watch yourself, princess..."

He hissed out the nickname so harshly it made you shudder, and your thighs clenched under the table as he leaned back again.

Just in time for someone to talk.

"Why, you two are awfully clingy today." It was Penelope, giggling through a bright pink bendy straw.

You decided to play off of that, smiling and leaning back to press yourself fully against him. "This is our first vacation together, I guess I'm just excited," you said sweetly.

Spencer lightly kissed your cheek, but his hand squeezed your bare hip again. A warning not to push it.

"You know, Will and I haven't had a vacation in a while. It's kind of a bummer he had to work, otherwise we could've taken the kids." JJ pouted playfully before taking a fry.

"We'll definitely have to plan for another one of these in the future," Penelope offered happily.

You wiggled your hips just the tiniest bit as your head dropped onto Spencer's shoulder. "I agree."

His fingers were gripping your hip with brutal force now, and to cover a yelp, you faked a cough. He eased his grip, settling on splaying his entire hand flat across it instead. Its warmth mixed with the knowledge of how big it was made you all warm inside. And, God, if you didn't want to fake being sick so you could drag him up to the hotel room right then...

But you held on, ready for phase two of your plan.

While swimming before, You decided with Luke, Penelope, Tara, Matt, and Emily that a game of water-volleyball was in your future. JJ offered to call points while the rest of you, in teams, played against each other. Despite their efforts to get Rossi and Spencer to join, they both declined, but in a way you were thankful.

Being in action might just be the thing you needed to finally push him over the edge.

So soon after lunch, you all moved over to the open water-volleyball pool. JJ, Spencer, and Rossi all sat at the edge on lounge chairs to watch while you divided into two teams, Penelope, Luke, and Emily on one side, you, Tara, and Matt on the other.

Truth be told, during the game you almost completely forgot about the other little game that you were playing with Spencer—the one only you two knew about. You were quite content and happy having fun with your friends for so long that it was a distant memory.

But at one point, Matt lifted you out of the water to hit the ball, his hands firmly gripping your waist to help you do it. And you didn't think anything of it until you realized your second, and probably your most fatal, mistake.

You'd successfully spiked the ball and scored the winning point, to which your team loudly cheered. And when Matt brought you back down into the water, you flung your arms around his neck in a hug. He lifted you out of the water again as he hugged you, and over his shoulder, you spotted Spencer.

He was furious.

No one would have been able to tell, of course, but you knew. You'd seen that look before, when you were teasing him badly enough that it warranted a pretty severe punishment.

You may have won the volleyball game, but in the process you inadvertently won another game, one that excited you far more and presented you with the grand prize of one very long night.

***

Spencer was quiet with you the rest of the day. After the game, you all decided to just lay out in the sun for a few hours. Occasionally, you would sneak a glance at your boyfriend to find him in that oddly calm state again, the one that borderline scared and excited you at the same time, and for a moment you wondered if maybe you'd gone too far, even if you hadn't intentionally meant to make him jealous.

But if something was truly wrong, he would have told you. You both knew the lines between playful and serious, and this odd calm that Spencer was exuding was most definitely playful.

He only further proved that to be true when you got up to the bar to get a margarita, and you felt a presence behind you.

His hands splayed over your hips and slid forward to your stomach, pulling you back to him. The hardness you felt pressing into the thin material of your bikini made you tremble.

"I want you to finish your drink, and then I want you to meet me in our room. Take your time, princess. I'll be waiting."

Before you could even answer, he was gone, his hand lingering on your body for a moment before he let himself fully walk away. And as you slowly sipped on your drink, chatting a bit with Penelope when she came over, your skin still burned hot from his touch.

***

You took a deep breath before stepping ino the room. Your hands were shaking with excitement and your stomach churned at the sight of him.

He was perched on the bed, freshly showered, wearing nothing but a towel hung low on his hips while he read a book. His hair was wet, towel dried and hanging in soft curls in front of his eyes.

Spencer always took your breath away, but this?

You were in deep shit.

He didn't even look up from his book. He continued flipping the page and gently nodded towards the bathroom door. "Go get a shower ready. I'll be in in a minute."

Your first instinct was to obey. But then again, trouble was what you wanted in the first place, so trouble was what you were going to deliver.

"Why?"

"Because you're covered in chlorine from the pool, and you have to shower." He still didn't look up at you. And that just wouldn't do.

"I'm sure you're right, babe, but I just don't feel like it. And you can't make me."

His eyes flitted up to meet you, just for a brief second before he sighed and shut the book. "Y/N..."

"Spencer..."

"You've been a tease all day, do you really want to make it harder for yourself?" This time he was looking up at you fully, meeting you with a bored expression that was just so fucking hot. You couldn't resist.

"I don't know," you teased, crossing your arms. "Do I?"

"Trust me, princess, you don't..."

You giggled at the nickname and started walking towards him, kicking off your flip flops and uncrossing your arms in the process. "Hmm... I think I do."

"Take another step, see what happens," he offered plainly.

Just for the hell of it, you stopped and then took one giant step forward, bringing you to the edge of the bed where he was sitting. You smiled down at him and felt your insides heat up as he brought his hand out, roughly pulling at the thin fabric of your bikini. He pulled you right on top of him, just for you to be rolled over and pinned on your stomach.

His hands pinned your hands behind your back as he pushed his body into yours, making you whimper out excitedly.

"So be it. Don't make a sound unless I tell you to. Understand?" The sternness in his voice sent another chill through you as you nodded. But then one of his hands came up and tugged on your hair, pulling your neck back. "Answer me."

"I understand," you said, though not without making it sound like you were bored.

That only seemed to make him more mad, which of course was a win for you. He tugged your hair harder, causing you to yelp out with a masochistic laugh.

"Something funny?" he inquired evenly.

"You're cute when you're mad," you offered with a shit-eating grin, wiggling your ass against him.

This time, instead of pulling your head back, he shoved it down into the mattress, his hand shifting to hook his middle finger around your cheek and into your mouth. "You're cute when you shut up and obey me... But I have a feeling you're not going to be very good for me tonight, are you princess?"

You only hummed around his finger in response, clenching your pussy around nothing as your body suddenly went wild with a wave of pleasure at his words.

"That's what I thought... Let's see how well you take your spankings, maybe then I'll go easy on you later."

He wasted no time then, yanking your swim bottoms down and running his hand over the curve of your ass.

"Let's see... One—" SMACK. "—for making a show of wearing this slutty little bikini."

To keep it interesting, you wiggled your ass for more, and he returned the favor by spanking you even harder than the last time. "Two, for giving away your chair just to sit in my lap." Very quickly after, he administered another one, following with, "Three, for teasing me at lunch in front of our friends."

"But I d—"

SMACK. "Four, for interrupting me," he said quietly. And with the way his hand was rubbing over your stinging skin, he was no doubt admiring his work so far. He even hummed, lifting his hand occasionally, leading you to think he was going to spank you again— Only for him to settle on rubbing over your ass again.

He was drawing this out. Taking his time. Seeing how antsy you would get.

Needless to say, it was working.

Your hands, which were still pinned behind your back by Spencer's other hand, started to flex, and you whimpered out in want.

"What's the matter, princess?" he cooed.

"I... I want you," is all you could think to say. Because you really did.

"Bad girls don't get what they want. Especially brats. So tell me, do you think I'm going to give you what you want?"

You were supposed to answer him, but in the name of trouble, you remained silent.

He waited for an answer that never came. And when he was tired of waiting, realizing what you were doing, Spencer spanked you again. "Five, for not answering me."

Before you could do or say anything, he landed another slap to your ass. "And six, for having Matt's hands all over you."

You couldn't help it. You laughed. "Oh, that got to you, huh? His hands were nice and big. Reminded me of y—ah!"

He spanked you again, hard. Tears stung behind your eyes and you smiled through them.

"Seven," he growled. "For being a fucking brat."

You took a few deep breaths before speaking again. "Aw, are you jealous? You really think I would—fuck!"

Another spank. "Eight. Don't you dare get it to ten." It was obvious that he was challenging you. Either that, or you were just looking for trouble so badly that you were willing to hear his words as a challenge. But regardless, you challenged him back with one simple, breathy word.

"Nine."

SMACK. "Nine. You must really be looking for trouble, huh?"

You laughed, wiggling your ass one more time. "You don't even know the half of it."

Spencer spanked you one last time, harder than all the rest of them, and you actually yelped out, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Ten. Now get in the shower, or I'll make it double."

You thought about it, but a shower actually sounded really good, and it would give you a chance to breathe before he utterly wrecked you in a little while.

"Okay," you offered, slumping against the bed loosely to show him your surrender. He gently let go of you then, rubbing over your ass a few times before pulling away from you and helping you stand.

"You want me to put something on that now or later?" he asked gently, brushing the hair from your face.

"Later," you returned with a wink and a smile.

He huffed a laugh before gently smacking your ass one more time and sending you off in the shower.

***

As excited as you were for the rest of the evening, you were tempted to take as long in the shower as you wanted, just to see what Spencer would do. But you decided to just take a shower normally, rinsing out your hair just as you always did. You quickly washed up your body, wincing a bit at the sting of your ass under the soap and warm water.

And then you started thinking about how exhilarated you felt as he punished you. Each sharp, warm smack of his hand on your skin made you feel utterly electric and wet. It was a wonder you weren't actually dripping down your leg and onto the bed at how badly you wanted him.

The thought sent your hand down to said wetness. You really shouldn't have been touching yourself, but you were practically burning for him, melting at the amount of teasing you'd done today and the anticipation that came with every move. Your hand was relentless, looking for its own trouble as you moaned out as quietly as you could. The water was still cascading down your back as you rubbed tight, fast circles on your clit, hoping to get fast relief.

And then a knock came at the door.

"I want you out here in five minutes!"

Sure enough, Spencer's voice was enough to finally push you off the edge, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through you. But as soon as it subsided, you turned the water off and got out to dry yourself off.

Hopefully he wouldn't ever find out what you've done. But the devious side of you really wanted to know what he'd do if he did.

With that thought flooding your brain, you quickly finished drying off and walked out into the bedroom to find Spencer waiting on the bed again. His towel was still wrapped around his waist, and it gave you an idea.

You winked and dropped your own towel, revealing yourself fully to him.

"Did I ask you to drop the towel?" he chastised.

"Nope," you replied, placing your hands on your hips.

"Then why did you do it?"

You decided to take the mocking route, drawling out an overexaggerated, "Because I'm a dirty little whore, and I need you to put your big cock inside me."

"Are you done?"

He looked bored again, and it made you want him even more. So you said, "No. Once your cock is in me, I wa—"

"Were you touching yourself in the shower?"

Holy fuck.

"No."

Spencer stood up and glided over to you until he was towering over you, clearly unbelieving of your blatant lie. "No?"

"No," you repeated, the tiniest of smirks forming on your lips.

Without warning, his hand was between your legs, and a gasp left you as he found your clit, rubbing it almost exactly the same way you'd been earlier. You couldn't help the strangled moan that left your mouth, and he smirked knowingly.

"Yep. Those are definitely the sounds I heard."

And then he removed his hand, making you whine at the loss of contact. "I'm sorry," you whispered, hoping he'd return, if only to punish you for what you did by overstimulating you.

He seemed to have another idea, though.

"You're sorry?"

"Mhm," you whimpered, reaching out to grab his hand. "I'm so sorry."

When you had hold of his hand, he took control, gripping your wrist and pushing it away, and then he grabbed your shoulder. "Then why don't you get on your knees—" he pushed on your shoulder and you obliged happily, "—and show me how sorry you are..."

Your pussy throbbed around nothing as you looked up at him, eagerly waiting for his towel to drop. But he didn't move, and it was clear that he was waiting on you to do it.

So you yanked the towel down and marveled at how hard and ready he was. Your head seemed to move of its own accord, like it was magnetically drawn to his dick, and you weren't complaining. And then your tongue flattened and licked a broad stripe underneath him, before you quickly made work of taking him completely into your mouth.

It didn't take long to start a nice rhythm bobbing up and down, occasionally looking up to see him. Again, he looked bored, and though that would have spurred you on before, now you were desperate to please. So you worked your mouth faster, slacking your jaw and taking him in deeper, using your hands to keep yourself steady by gripping the back of his thighs. You moaned and gagged around him, yet kept your pace up regardless.

"Come on, princess, you can do better than that," he teased, fisting your hair and holding you down on his cock. "Apologize like you mean it."

He released your hair then, and you pulled back to take a breath of air before spitting obscenely on his dick and quickly stroking him with your hand. "I'm sorry, baby, I'm so so sorry," you whined, right before taking his balls in your mouth. You kept at that for a few moments before going to take him in your mouth again.

This time you were meaningful in every single movement, taking him in slow and deep. Each time he hit the back of your throat you held yourself there and choked around him as long as you could, tears falling from your eyes. And then you'd pull away slowly, swirling your tongue around his tip before repeating.

Eventually though, he pulled you away completely and studied you as you sat there, knelt on the floor in front of him with red eyes, and tears and spit completely coating your face. Your lips were glistening and puffy as you panted, whispering soft apologies.

"What a good girl," Spencer mused, brushing hair from your eyes and wiping tears from your cheeks. "I accept your apology. Come here."

His gentle voice all but pulled you to him as you stood on shaky knees. He hadn't even really done anything to you yet, and you were already a mess. That fact made you smile.

You wiped most of the mess from your face and nodded. "So, what's my reward?"

Spencer huffed a laugh. "For being a brat? Nothing."

"Aw, but I thought I earned your forgiveness..." You pouted playfully, and he pulled you closer by the waist.

"Yeah, well you're being cocky, so I take it back."

Before you could say anything, he kissed you, bringing both of his hands up to cradle the sides of your head. You all but melted into him and let him lead you to the bed, where you were turned around and bent over again.

He used his leg to spread yours apart, right before bringing a hand to the nape of your neck. As he grabbed a fistful of your hair and gently tugged your head back, his other hand fell between your legs and gently parted you.

"You ready, princess?"

"Uh huh," you whined back, right as he pushed forward and glided his cock through your pussy. He waited, making you anticipate that sweet moment when he'd finally enter you, and you could tell he was enjoying every second. You wiggled against him, and he yanked your hair.

"Ah-ah, be patient... Be patient..."

He continued just sliding himself through your opening until you weren't expecting it. And then he slammed into you, eliciting a loud moan from the back of your throat.

"Sh, shh," Spencer expressed, releasing your hair and sliding his hand to cover your mouth. "Everyone's going to hear you, princess, you need to keep quiet. Can you do that for me?"

"Mhm," you mumbled against his hand, letting out a strangled sigh when he placed it on your shoulder instead. He kept up a nice, hard pace pounding into you, each slap of his hips against your burning ass just the right amount of pain to be pleasant. And you were thankful for the bed underneath you, because if you didn't have it, you'd surely have buckled under the weight of your knees already.

Feeling how limp you were in his grasp, Spencer used both his hands to wrap around the front of your throat, keeping you upright as your hands pressed into the mattress.

"Tell me, princess, do you think you deserve to come so soon?"

You were so caught up in how hard and deep he was fucking you that you were pretty sure it wouldn't matter what you told him— you were going to orgasm regardless, because there was no way you could even fathom trying to hold it in. Whether or not Spencer would show you any mercy at that point was a mystery.

You were just going to have to find out.

"I—I... Ohhhh..."

You heard him laugh lowly, and it made you clench around him. "Oh, it hasn't even been five minutes, and I've already fucked you so dumb you can't even speak? Huh?"

You whined in response, letting your head fall to the side as you tried to look at him. And you barely caught a glimpse of his hair as he continued speaking. "Aw... My poor little princess... That's what you get, isn't it? When you act like a dirty little whore..."

He was recalling what you'd teased earlier, and it brought you closer to the edge more than you liked to admit.

"Uh... huh," you whined out, dangerously close to coming undone.

"Alright then, princess. Come for me, show me what you got."

Unsurprisingly, it didn't take very long for that to happen. You let out a string of whimpers and cries as he fucked you through your orgasm, his hands slightly tightening around your throat as well. Every sensation was blinding and intense, just like you knew it'd be, even if it was only your second orgasm of the night.

And you had a decent suspicion that it wasn't going to be your last.

Even after you were done, Spencer kept at it, relentlessly fucking you into the mattress until your legs were surely numb. Your knees were still sore from being on the floor before, and likewise, your ass was still burning. Not to mention the overstimulation you were experiencing as one of his hands moved down to rub at your clit.

Eventually though, he stopped, and you weren't sure why. But then he flipped you around, laying you on the edge of the bed and leaning over you, his hands brushing more of the tears from your cheeks.

"I wanna see your pretty little eyes when I come, okay? You think you can keep 'em open for me, princess?"

"Mhm," you whined out as he pushed into you again.

He settled on a slow pace that built and built until he was fucking you fast and hard and incredibly deep. His entire body leaned into yours as he snapped his hips forward over and over again, brutal in their goal to completion. You kept whining out, feeling another orgasm coming quickly as you let yourself succumb to him.

"That's it, princess, you're taking it so well. We're almost done..." He whispered comforts into your temple, moments before you reached your peak once more. You shook violently underneath him, which was all he needed to finish himself.

He pulled back and looked into your eyes, filled with tears at the overstimulation, as he snapped his hips forward once, twice, and then three times before letting go. He held himself inside of you, moaning out while looking into your eyes. The feel of his cock throbbing and spilling over inside of you was just about the most comforting thing in the world right then, accompanied by soft brushes of his fingers through your hair and even softer declarations of love.

Long after he stayed inside of you, catching his breath, Spencer pulled out and examined you, the way your body glistened perfectly with the right amount of sweat. Your chest heaved, each dip and curve and peak of your breasts slowly rising and falling as you trembled. He slid down your body, until finally his eyes caught sight of your pussy, glistening and dripping with his cum. It absolutely wrecked him in the best way possible, so much so that he couldn't help himself.

He brought his hand to your opening, gently scooping up his cum and gathering it onto the pads of his fingers. You moaned out as he did it, and he knew then exactly what he wanted.

"Open up, princess," he pried softly, bringing his fingers to your mouth. You gladly did what you were told and sighed out as he glided them over your tongue, practically spoon-feeding you his cum. He pumped his fingers in and out of your mouth slowly, feeling every vibration on your tongue from the sounds you made. And then he did it again, bringing his fingers back to your pussy to gather more of his mess.

He did this until it was pretty much all gone, and truthfully, you would have let it go on forever. The intimacy of it all, the soft and sensual way in which he explored and watched you, and the love you felt for each other all wrapped up in a shiny, red bow was the perfect end to a perfect day.

You would have fallen asleep, but Spencer was gently nudging your arm. "Hey, you," he said gently, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I think it's time to run us a bath, don't you think?"

"Sure," you agreed quietly with a smile. "And then we can sleep, right?"

"I think the team might get mad at us for ditching dinner, but I'm willing to risk that."

With a laugh, you reached over and kissed him. "Good. I love you, Spencer."

"I love you, too, princess."

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[yesimwriting]

Hello! Your Nikolai fic tranquility is so beautiful! Can you write more for Nikolai? Maybe the opposite with reader having a nightmare? Or whatever you want just please give me more! If you have a tagging list I'd love to be included btw :)

A/n hii!! first off,, thank you! i was a little nervous about writing him for the first time,, but i love him so much (even though i love a good villain/morally grey character in love i think nikolai would probably make the least toxic bf in the grishaverse lol)

you gave me a little too much freedom here lol bc i have so many ideas for him!! lowkey might need to give him a longer fic/series soon when i catch up with requests!! WOW THIS FIC IS SO LONG AND FOR WHAT

Summary: Reader is a handmaid who has grown up assisting Nikolai. Through the years, the two have developed a special relationship that most definitely breaks royal protocol--they’re best friends and rivals on a good day, and dangerously close to being something more the second either of them is remotely upset or extremely happy. Learning about the fact that Nikolai was almost engaged to Alina (a good friend of yours) and being reminded of the fact that as royalty Nikolai has many prospects (both serious women worthy of his title and women only suitable for trysts meant to relieve tension) has you both realizing something you should have years ago.

Word count: 31210

Warnings: disclaimer--may not be the most cannon thing ever,, but i wanted the ‘child of the help competes and falls in love with the child of royalty’ energy okay?? Lol

I could do a whole blurb series with this dynamic nikolai x reader,, like just stories of them growing up together and randomly realizing they might like each other romantically?? I probably shouldn’t rn but i ADORE this trope.

--

The perfection of the room is disappointing. Idle hands, idle thoughts--so I work to smooth out a perfect duvet. Still, the thoughts come--aggressive and unavoidable. It’s silly, maybe even sad, to feel possessive over something that’s never been yours, something that could never be yours, but the harder I fight off the feeling the stronger it grows. Jealousy is a weed growing quickly in my chest, vile roots planted firmly in my heart.

Normally my favorite part of the day would be waiting for Nikolai to return to his room in the palace after dinner and his evening duties. He’s always a bit softer in the evenings, during my last check-in of the day. I’m normally thrilled to be done organizing his room early because that means the second he arrives there will be no distraction. Most evenings, he’ll find me perched in the seat by his bed, reading. He’ll mock-scold me for daring to defy his orders and reading ahead from the book we both take turns reading aloud from each night. He then warns me that I better react exactly the way I did when I first read it or else. That threat is always followed by a gentle laugh.

Tonight I’m in no mood for our nightly banter or even our nightly reading. My mother had warned me of the dangers of getting too comfortable with the royal family. I should have heeded that warning when she first gave it to me, the morning she found Nikolai and I fast asleep on a couch in the library as children. The palace likes to bring up the children of the staff by training them to attend to the next generation of royals. It makes the staff more efficient, a lifetime of knowing what someone wants makes you better for them. It also creates some level of connection, making betrayal a little less likely. Nikolai and I might have taken it farther than most. But now I want a reminder of the way we’re supposed to be--maybe if I detach now the bleeding of my heart won’t kill me. That has to remain secret, because if I explain it to Nikolai something in me will break. The one line between us will be crossed.

This will be the sixth secret I’ve kept from Nikolai in my entire life.

--

The secrets:

I don’t know why I was picked for Nikolai. I wasn’t particularly skilled, but still, the day came when my mother was told that I now worked directly for the Lantsov boy. It’s an honor, a true one, but my mother had been a little nervous. To whom much is given, much is expected--and I detested Nikolai. Not for being a prince, but for being a prince who thought girls couldn’t race or fight.

The day my mother came looking for me because I never showed up for dinner and she found Nikolai and I attempting to fight in the way only a ten-year-old girl and eleven-year-old boy would, she had looked truly mortified. Nikolai had only laughed, either oblivious to my mother’s embarrassment or uncaring about it. He had then hugged me--an expression of care that had left me reeling. I saw him more as a rival than someone to tend to, but in that moment I saw him as a friend. Even more so when he told me he didn’t want me to go yet and that he was upset that so much of the day had been wasted by studies that kept him with boring people and away from me. And then he invited me to his lessons--my mother was quick to attempt to decline politely, but the desires of a prince at any age outweigh that of a mother.

After that, everyone kind of just stopped trying to remind us of our propriety. The tutor at first was concerned about my presence, but Nikolai remained stubborn. I wasn’t a big enough deal to cause an argument, so I began to attend lessons with him almost every day, only staying away when my mother needed aid with laundry or cleaning. His parents must have been somewhat aware of our friendship, but they must have been oblivious to our closeness because it was never mentioned.

My mother’s worry began to ease, she’d even started to take some pride when I’d come to our room proudly proclaiming that I scored two marks higher than Nikolai. She did, however, warn that it might be more tactful to let him score higher.

The comment was casual, just a suggestion, but it left me feeling wrong. It was the first time since we met that I had thought about our different statuses. I didn’t tell him--and that was the first secret I ever kept from him.

As we grew, we traded physical competition for academic rivalry, trying to best each other in both lessons and games of strategy like chess and cards. But with growing comes responsibility. Nikolai started to have obligations that were meant to be private. I couldn’t follow him at all times. But he’d always come back from locked door meetings grinning like he carried schoolyard gossip instead of government secrets. He shared everything with me, even when I playfully warned against it.

He’d always step closer when I teased that perhaps he shouldn’t tell me everything. And then he’d say, “If I can’t trust you, then I can’t trust anyone--and I don’t want to live in a world like that.” Often, he’d give my hand a light squeeze before moving on like he had not said anything intimate.

On a day in which Nikolai was in one of those meetings, I became a woman. When I first saw the blood, I had been horrified--but my mother was quick to explain that it was natural. She said that I was now a woman, a wonderful thing, really--but a thing that came with obligations. She told me that I could no longer have the impromptu ‘sleepovers’ with Nikolai unless he ordered it. I told her he’s never ordered me to do anything for him.

She didn’t ease, something in her had started to become nervous again. My mother had recently started to act the way she did when Nikolai and I first became friends. I didn’t want to fall asleep in Nikolai’s bed while I was bleeding, but I didn’t want to never have another sleepover with him again. Especially not when she refused to explain why being a woman changed so much.

I had decided to avoid Nikolai as much as possible until the sting of my mother’s new rule faded. Unfortunately, that night Nikolai was extra talkative--excited as he insisted I stay for a little longer. Soon, I found his familiar good naturedness melting away my nerves and before I knew it I was laughing in the middle of the night. When my eyelids started to feel heavy, I had moved from the chair, ready to head back to my room.

Nikolai had looked at me oddly before he asked why would I leave so late when it would be easier for me to just sleepover? It was an innocent question, he did not know about my change and I had wanted to keep it that way.

I tried playing coy, but Nikolai has always had a talent for getting around my better judgement. I don’t recall exactly how it happened, but I remember him standing in front of me. It was the first time I noticed how much had actually changed over the years--he was now taller than me for the first time in his life. His hair had started to grow a little longer, golden and soft-looking--and his face seemed much more angular. But he had not lost his boyish charm.

“Y/n?” My name fell softly from his lips, and that was the first time I had ever noted the fullness of them. I didn’t understand why I considered that something worth noting. “Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

Perhaps I had been a little curt--nerves and hormones had left me not feeling like myself. I didn’t tell him about the bleeding, I couldn’t. That became the second secret I kept from him--but I did tell him that my mother had told me I was a woman now, and that women can’t have sleepovers. Not with those of the opposite gender. I made no effort to hide my confusion because I expected him to be as perplexed as I was. But he was not confused--in fact, he had the audacity to laugh. My face flushed, but I did not know why.

“Why is that funny?” Maybe he thought I was still too much of a child to be considered a woman. I assumed it a fair assumption, I had not grown the way he had--my shoulders had not become sturdier and I had not become particularly broader. Still, I would rather melt into the floor than tell him about the reason my mother now considered me a woman. “My mother did say that, and I don’t know what being a ‘woman’ has to do with staying in your room at night.” Something strange had crossed over his features then, something much more brooding than I was used to.

I had blinked at him as unexplained nerves pooled in my stomach. Perhaps that look would have been enough to keep me silent if he had managed to not grin. That self-assured grin that had always challenged me. “Well since you know everything about my mother now, maybe you can tell me why she’s been acting strange. She’s starting to act the way she did when we first became friends.” I expected him to at least pretend to be worried. Perhaps his parents had spoken to her and had mentioned wanting our friendship to end. But his grin had only grown. Pride left me angry. “She did say that I could stay if you ordered it--but I’m glad you’ve never ordered me to do anything, so I can leave right now because you’re acting as odd as her. I don’t understand what you could find funny about our friendship ending.”

He had stopped me from storming out of his room by placing one hand on the wall between me and the door. “Y/n, don’t be cross--I’ll explain it all, I promise.” Angry pride made me want to storm away from him, but curiosity and something unknown and warm kept me in place. “Do you remember when we read the play about the rival families, how the two main characters had kissed?”

I remembered that part of the play especially well. The concept of kissing so casually, outside of marriage, had been jarring to me. “Yes.”

“Now that we’re older, your mother must be worried that we might do that.” He paused before leaning against the arm he placed on the wall to keep me from leaving a little more. “Kiss.”

The clarification was not needed--in that brief pause, I had allowed myself to imagine no distance between our lips. Something in me burned with embarrassment when I realized that some part of me found the thought appealing. The only thing I wanted in that moment was assurance that Nikolai would never know I felt that. That was my third secret, and the weight of it was heavy against my chest.

Still, though, all of my confusion had not yet left. “Is there much harm in a kiss?”

The question had left an odd smile on his lips. “There’s potential harm in what it could lead to for the woman, but not so much for the man.” He exhaled slowly as my face tensed. He could always read me too well because he was quick to add, “What it could lead to isn’t a bad thing, it’s meant to be pleasurable, but it’s serious.” I did not understand, but a part of me was starting to grow okay with that. Nikolai’s voice had started to become lower than ever, and his gaze remained tense. Perhaps if I accepted the confusion for now, things could go back to normal. If the conversation ended, I could stop thinking of his lips and his hands and what it would mean for them to touch me. “It’s considered a vice, like drinking or gambling.” The additional comment helped more than it should have. A vice--not scary and not painful, but not something to indulge in. That’s enough explanation for now. “If you want to know, I won’t deny you.”

I appreciated the offer tremendously. The vice that comes after kissing is clearly something that’s been intentionally kept from me. It’s something he was privy to that I was not, and he offered it to me like so much else. But if knowledge that my mother feared us kissing made me think of his lips, then I doubted I could handle knowing what comes after kissing.

“I’ll let you know when I want to know, but I appreciate the offer.” It felt like a fair response. His snarky grin came back immediately. Irritation rooted itself in my stomach. I hated not knowing more than him for once, but I still had one question I could not relinquish. “But what does that vice have to do with orders?”

At that, his smugness faltered. “It’s not unheard of, for princes and handmaids--for a prince to obligate a handmaid in order to fulfill his vice. Though many handmaids fill the vice of their own will for benefits.

The explanation left him like a confession. I didn’t understand his hesitance--it’s not like he’d ever make me do anything I didn’t want to do. Even when I worked, he was hesitant to ask me to go out of my way to bring him a glass of water. And I couldn’t imagine gaining anything from offering Nikolai something I didn’t really understand. I wasn’t naive to the fact that my life had more privileges than many palace servants. “Oh.”

His eyes hardened. “You know I’d never--”

“I know.” It was finally easy to smile again. “I never thought otherwise.” Something in him seemed to ease at that, his eyes went from hard to warm in less than a second.

I had no more questions for him and I was also no longer a flight risk, but Nikolai did not move. He did not step back to create a more appropriate distance and he did not drop his arm. His gaze, however, did move--dropping downwards, and slightly away from my eyes. I did the same, my eyes falling to his lips.

The silence between us began to make me feel like something in me was in danger of overflowing. “Then I guess my mother is once again worrying for no reason.” Strangely, I did not feel the need to feel embarrassed about staring at his lips. “Because I would never particularly want to kiss you, Nikolai Lantsov.”

The comment was meant to be teasing, a joke to clear away unknown tension. I should have known better than to challenge his pride because he instinctually moved his hand off the wall and beneath my chin. I did not flinch when he tilted my head upwards slightly with his fingers. “I could get you to want to kiss me if I wanted to.”

Three secrets in one night. I did not think I could bear a fourth one. “Hm…” The ground we treaded on felt unstable, but something in me trusted Nikolai to not let me falter. “I should--I should go before I give my mother anymore cause to worry.”

His fingers had brushed down my chin easily as he dropped his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

And that he did. The days passed without mention of the last time he asked me to sleepover. It was as if nothing had changed except now I found myself noting things I most definitely did not want to note. These didn’t feel like individual secrets because it felt easy to group each admirational thought into one secret. Soon, that became my new normal--easy banter, easy touches of hands, and easy yet silent admirations of his beauty.

I never wandered too hard about what the vice that kissing can lead to entailed. I didn't particularly want to know, but knowing that I could ask Nikolai at any time brought a sense of security to me. But besides that, I never thought of that conversation until the day I was asked to look for Nikolai because he was late for dinner.

That in itself was odd, most of the time when Nikolai was late it was because he was with you. I checked his room, two other rooms he was known to frequent, and then finally the library. First, I noticed a handmaid two years older than me. I was finally at an age when one begins to compare their beauty to those around them, and I recognized the girl as gorgeous. She was better endowed than me, physically, and she always seemed fun. And then I noticed Nikolai, standing closer to her than I’ve ever seen him stand to anyone. His expression was serious as the girl giggled.

Nikolai’s expression shifted from tense to shocked when he saw me. “Y/n.”

It took me a moment longer than it should have to realize what I had interrupted. Guilt and jealousy were quick to twist in my stomach. “Dinner--your parents sent me to look for you.”

He was quick to walk around the girl, who was quick to glare at me. I attempted to disappear down the hall after mumbling a quick apology, but Nikolai was faster than me.

“Y/n,” he did not hesitate to grab my wrist.

It shouldn’t have irked me the way it did, after all, neither of us had ever really hesitated to touch each other. I had always reached for him when I wanted him, and he had done the same. But the thought of the same hands that touched the most beautiful girl I had ever seen on me left me bitter in a way I didn’t understand.

Still, I pushed through all of that. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, your mother asked me to look for you because she assumed you’d be with me when you were late to dinner. I didn’t think that there’d be--”

“You didn’t interrupt anything.” The words came out flat as his eyes took on the same quality they did the night he explained my mother’s concern to me. “Valaria wishes there was something to interrupt, but there wasn’t.”

Oh. I refused to let the correction inflate me. “Would you like me to not come to your room tonight?”

The offer felt awkward to make. “No,” the answer came quickly, “In fact, go there now--I want to see you right after dinner. I’ve missed you today.” The instruction left my face feeling warm. “We could read an extra chapter of our book if you’d like.”

Despite myself, I grinned. “Yes.”

“Looking forward to it.”

True to his word, Nikolai was quick to return to his room. He had come back to me eagerly, going out of his way to squeeze my shoulder as he entered the room.

I opened the book to the chapter we had left off on, but before I could start reading, Nikolai stopped me. “Sit next to me?”

The question came softly. It had been some time since we sat next to each other on his bed. Still, I moved off of the chair and to his bed. Something in me longed for the familiar closeness of childhood. I allowed him to play with my fingers as I read.

“You know you could take one night off from me if you wanted to.” The admission left me softly, part of unsure if he was still paying attention to my words. “She was pretty, it wouldn’t have hurt my feelings if you told me you wanted me to not come tonight.”

Nikolai exhaled easily, squeezing my fingers once. “I said I wanted to see you and I meant it.”

It took all of my energy to push past the way his words made my stomach leap. “In general, if you ever--”

Nikolai cut me off by laying his head on my lap the way he used to. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” It was the first time in years that he spoke to me in a way that acknowledged his authority. “Keep reading please.”

And that was the last time we had ever mentioned other handmaids in that context. The fifth secret I ever kept from him was the way I worried that one day that would change.

--

The door creaks open while I’m in the middle of fluffing an already pristine pillow. Nikolai steps into the room, but I continue to work.

“Darling,” he breathes too easily, “Today has been painful.” I straighten, looking at him as casually as I can manage. “And now I have to deal with you being mad at me.”

Damn him and his ability to read me with one look. “I’m not mad.”

“You know you can’t lie to me,” he sighs, stepping forward, “We’ve known each other too long for that.”

I press my lips together, irrational anger pushing itself into me at an odd angle. “We’ve also known each other too long to keep secrets.”

His eyebrows draw together, a look so quizzical I’m reminded of our schooling days. “What secrets have I kept from you?”

Mentioning that had been a mistake. I exhale as flatly as possible. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” My dismissal only has Nikolai’s expression hardening. I drop my gaze. “Unless you need something, I’m retiring my services for the evening.”

I take a reluctant step towards the door, eyes attached to the floor. “Y/n,” his voice is gentle. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just tired.” Please let that be at least somewhat believable. “I’m sure I’ll feel more like myself in the morning.” I take another step, a little more assured. Nikolai’s hand is on my shoulder before I can escape. “Nikolai--”

“Y/n,” his voice is that of velvet, “I can’t have you be mad at me. Not now.”

Sighing, I meet his gaze. The tiredness I see behind his eyes is almost enough to chase away my nerve. What I’d give to be able to melt into our familiar routine. “Then you should have told me you were almost engaged to a literal Saint--the same literal Saint who’s one of my closest friends.”

Nikolai’s expression shifts as his hand drops from my shoulder slowly, fingers brushing down my arm before he finally intertwines our fingers. I bite my tongue to avoid squeezing his hand, but I don’t move to separate us either. He studies me silently, eyebrows drawn together. The longer he stares, the more whatever turmoil he’s experiencing seems to dissipate. After a minute of silence, I can read his expression perfectly. His lips are pressed together in that coy way--the way he only looks when he’s suppressing a smile.

I loathe him for it. “Nikolai Lantsov, don’t you dare laugh--not after what you did. Do you have any idea what it felt like to have Alina casually mention the fact that you almost married her casually? Like that was common knowledge to everyone but me?”

My words break away the last of his self control. He grins, flashing his annoyingly perfect teeth. “Do you have any idea what it feels like for me to want nothing more than to see you and then you let me believe something may actually be wrong when the only issue is your jealousy?”

The amusement in his tone is like poison to me. I find the strength to jerk my hand away from him. “I am not jealous.” He laughs; I am further enraged. “I am not.” The genuineness of my anger must finally register on some level, because he tries to suppress his smile. “I have every right to be mad at my best friend for not telling me that he was almost married.”

“We didn’t exactly come close,” he manages, expression still much too light for my taste. “I’m glad for Alina’s sake, I’m not sure being a Saint would be enough to protect her.”

He is infuriating. “I’m not sure anything you have will be enough to protect you.”

Something in his gaze shifts, softening the tilt of his mouth. “I don’t doubt that.”

I don’t know what I expected from him--but not this. I thought he’d be at least somewhat apologetic. “You should have told me.”

“I would have if I felt it was significant.”

“I’m your best friend--your marriage is significant to me. And even though it’s not like you’re engaged to her right now, you should have told me. You know I talk to Alina all the time.”

He sighs once, a hint of apology threatening to ghost over his eyes. “If I knew not knowing would have upset you so much I would have told you. I was--I was just so excited to be around you again I didn’t see much relevance in anything that didn’t involve you.”

The intensity that Nikolai regards me with is enough to wither all of my fury. But without my anger, I am left spiraling in emotion that I’ve been pushing against for years. My mother’s warning about relationships with those above us rings in my ears--sharp and headache inducing. I am still when he reaches for my hand again, but I do no allow myself to return the gentle squeeze of his fingers.

“I’m not sure much outside of you has significance.” He’s giving me a look I am familiar with. A look he often uses to chase away my anger.

Without my anger, I have nothing to keep me from melting into him, indulging in his presence fully. It’s so easy with him and I blinded myself to the danger of that. He may not be marrying Alina, but one day he will marry someone. A person worthy of his status--and what would I be left doing? Washing their laundry? Tearing up when I dusted the library and came across a book we had read together? Enough damage has already been done--I need to cut myself with this blade now in hopes of making sure I can one day recover.

He will get married one day, and nothing will be the same. And that’s a good thing--he deserves the love of a princess or queen. I want his happiness, even if it’s not with me. But some vindictive part of me hopes that some part of him will miss me. That some part of him will be dulled without me.

I’m a fool--he will remember me as the handmaid from his youth. The girl who made him laugh once or twice before he grew up. I force my hand out of his grasp. “You can’t win me over with words every time.” I need to get out of here before he says something that makes me lose all resolve. “Tomorrow morning I’ll be here to prepare you for breakfast.”

“Y/n.”

I step forward, refusing to look at him. “Goodnight.”

He sighs, his hand quick to grab my arm. Before I can question him I feel myself pulled back. I expect him to pull me just close enough so that I have to meet his gaze. He continues, pulling me sharply before placing a quick hand on my shoulder, forcing me down. My back hits his bed.

I sit up as soon as the reality of what just happened seeps into my mind. “Nikolai, what in the Saints--”

“If you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like one.”

I scoff, thoughts of escaping him put on hold by the principle of pride. Fine. I’ll beat him one last time, and then I’ll let us separate. I shove him. He laughs--of course this is funny to him. He got to keep fighting past the age of about eleven. His laughter adds to my anger, I move to shove him again, but he catches my wrist easily. I struggle against his hold, shoving him a third time with my still free hand. He pushes me slightly. That’s all it takes to unleash familiar habits.

Our small fight is hardly fair. He has all the advantage--more training, and he’s standing above me. When I finally make a move that might give me some success, Nikolai leans forward. He practically tackles me, his weight forcing me flat against the bed.

I move an arm, ready to push him off of me. Nikolai snags my wrists, holding them above my head. “This means I win.” I roll my eyes, anger returning.

“Let me go.”

He sighs tiredly, but the smugness radiating off of him is suffocating. “Admit that you were jealous.”

There are a lot of things I am willing to do for him--but never that. I cannot give him the one separation I still have. “I wasn’t.”

“Then why are you mad?”

I press my lips together. “I told you--”

“Do you really think you could lie to me?”

“You don’t know me that well.”

Nikolai moves his freehand, touching my chin as a way to ask me to look at him. I meet his gaze hesitantly. “Yes, I do, and that’s never bothered you before but it does now.”

Maybe this is a conversation better had bluntly. “It bothers me now because you’re too old to hold onto the daughter of a palace handmaid and I’m too old to pretend that our different statuses don’t matter.”

“Y/n,” he breathes, “Nothing’s changed. Status didn’t matter to me when we were children, and it doesn’t matter to me now.”

“You can afford to say things like that.”

“What good is my title if it means I can’t,” he pauses, eyes hesitant, “If I can’t keep things the same between us?”

I smile, the sadness of the look weighs on me and I can’t even see it. “Nikolai, you always knew things would change.”

“No, I--”

“You can’t tell me you think your future wife would like you having such a close relationship with a handmaid.” I press my lips together. “One day you’ll fall in love and get married and you’ll want me to leave your bedchamber as soon as dinner is over because you’ll be eager to spend time with your wife.” His gaze hardens. “And that’s not a bad thing. It’s actually a really good thi--”

The last syllable of my sentence dies in my throat. Nikolai, who must be possessed by something, leans down and presses his lips against mine. I beg myself to resist, but his gentleness is everything I’ve ever wanted. He releases my hands in favor of holding my face. That’s all it takes--my hands move without my permission, into his hair--pulling him closer to me. What am I doing? I’m insane. Placing my hands on his chest cautiously, I push just slightly. He’s quick to obey, pulling away while allowing his teeth to brush against my bottom lip.

I gape at him--taking in his now slightly swollen lips. “Nikolai.” He can’t do this to me. We’re friends. Despite the fact that I’ve loved him more than I should--we’re friends. “You’re being extremely unfair.”

He draws his eyebrows together, sitting up quickly and moving off of me. “I’m being unfair? I have spent my entire life loving y--”

I sit up, furious in a new way. “You have not!” This is the dumbest I have ever been. I move to stand, still feeling the softness of his lips against mine.

“Your tooth fell out.” The sharpness of his words forces me to still.

“What?”

I can’t bring myself to turn and look at him, but I’ve always been able to feel any heaviness he bears. The weight of it leaves little room for air in my lungs. “You were ten. I told you ‘girls couldn’t fight’ so you punched me in the face. That was the first time we ever fought--I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, but you moved. You moved and I hit you in the mouth and your last baby tooth fell out. I expected you to cry or get angry, but you just blinked at me and laughed. You were happy to lose your last baby tooth because it meant you were grown up. And then you smiled and asked me if you looked older. If anything, the gap in your smile made you look younger but I told you that you looked like a grown-up because I wanted you to keep smiling. Because your smile made me feel like I won something.” I turn on my heels, but I cannot meet his gaze. “That was the moment I fell in love with you--so don’t tell me I haven’t spent my entire life loving you.”

The weight of his words is harder to survive against than the heaviness of his feelings. “Nikolai, you know we can’t ever be together--”

“Why not?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” I manage, voice low, “You almost married the Sun Summoner--”

“That was political--”

“Exactly, your marriage is meant to be political, and if it happens to be out of love--which is what I hope you get, because it is what you deserve--it will be to someone of status.”

Nikolai stands, the movement is that of a king, not the boy I know. “I do not want status or to love someone else--I want you.”

“I can’t take that from you--”

“You can’t take anything from me because I’ve already given it all to you.”

I press my lips together, heart tearing for him. “I love you too much to ruin you.”

My words seem to snap something in him because his eyes darken, the way he watches me adjusting accordingly. “You can’t ruin something that’s always been yours.”

I let myself smile. At him. At his words. At the foolish hope the child in me has clung to after all of these years. I reach for him thoughtlessly, because I have the right to. Because I’ve always had the right to. He’s quick to respond, kissing me with much more security than before.

This time, he pulls away of his own regard. “You still haven’t admitted that you were jealous.”

His teasing smugness isn’t as sour to me anymore. “I wasn’t.”

Nikolai pulls me towards him easily, lips threatening to brush against me, warm breath against my face. “Are you sure, darling? You were awfully quick to claim what’s yours.”

I roll my eyes, grinning so widely I’m surprised my face doesn’t yet hurt. “You’re the one that fell for a ten-year-old girl with a bloody mouth.”

When he smiles back at me, he places a hand on my hip, pulling me forward slightly. “That I did.” He pulls me forward slightly. "Does this mean you can sleep in here again?"

"If anything, this is more reason for me to sleep in another room." He rolls his eyes, pulling me even closer. "But I won't tell if you don't."

Nikolai leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Deal."

tags: @deardiarystuff @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

hey hey hey, could you make sub harry x dom fem reader smut where the reader finds out that harry spying on her in the showers with his cloak, so she takes revenge after the quidditch match on the showers? basically shower sex but reader being dom as hell. face slapping, choking, eating out, lots of degration, just pure sub harry smut!! and i loveee your writing btw love 💖🤧

pairing: harry potter x reader 

warning(s): 18+, dom!reader, mentions of voyeurism, shower sex, oral (female receiving), choking, slapping (like once), degradation, mentions of orgasm control/edging 

word count: 1.6k 

a/n: sorry i haven’t uploaded in a while, i’ve been busy but i have the week off so i hope to post more often! as always, enjoy! 

Once you saw the last of the team travel out of the locker room, you were quick to barge in - knowing your boyfriend, and the team’s captain, was the only one left. 

He was taking his jersey off when you arrived, his muscular back facing you. 

“You were great out there,” you said softly as you approached him, wrapping yours arms around him from the back despite how sweaty he was. You knew you’d be showering with him anyways. It was a little post-game ritual the two of you often loved to share. 

Harry leaned into your touch, letting some of the weight from his sore body rest on you. You almost felt bad for what you were about to do to him. He didn’t even know what was coming. Didn’t even know he had been caught this morning. But you surely weren’t going to let it slide. 

“Where were you this morning?” You asked him, innocently enough. 

“Went to breakfast then came down here,” he answered easily, moving out of your grasp to turn the water on. 

“And before that?” You asked him, raising a sly brow at him. 

You saw him freeze for a moment, but he recovered quickly. It almost made you giggle - the thought of him thinking he could get away with it. 

“What do you mean?” He asked, not turning around to face you. Instead, he opted to begin removing his pants. 

“Don’t act stupid, baby boy,” you said, almost mockingly. “We both know exactly what I’m talking about.” 

He froze for real then, his hands glued to the hem of his pants. You could practically feel him wracking his brain for something to say, but you both knew he already lost. 

When he turned to face you, his expression was filled with guilt and shame. It was almost cute how pitiful he looked. You walked up closer to him, completely invading his space until your chest was pressed against his. You could hear the way his breath hitched before he released a shaky breath, and you knew he was exactly where you wanted him. 

“Did you think it was okay to peep on me in the shower? You’re not slick, you know? I know when you’re using the cloak,” you questioned, referencing what had happened just that morning. 

You had been taking a shower, excitedly getting ready to watch your boyfriend play in his game today, when you heard an unmistakable swishing along the bathroom floor. You barely even had to look up when you saw it hit the light in exactly the right way. To anyone else, it may have just been a trick of the eye, but you knew exactly what it was. You had been underneath it enough times to know. It was Harry, underneath his invisibility cloak, watching you shower. 

And as aroused as you were that Harry had managed to sneak all the way in there just for you, just to see you naked, you refused to give him the show he wanted. After all, he didn’t need to know you knew was there. So you continued your shower as you normally would, finally hearing the unmistakable swishing leave the bathroom once more. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, looking down at his feet bashfully. 

“I’m sure you’re not, but you’ll make it up to me. Won’t you, baby?” You asked teasingly, palming him through his briefs to find him already half hard. When all he could do was whimper, you couldn’t help but chuckle, but you let it slide. “Help me strip.” 

He moved eagerly, quickly helping you out of your layers until you were naked. You moved under the water, letting it encase you before you turned back to him. He was watching you with eagle eyes, not daring to take them off of you. 

“Down on your knees, baby boy. I don’t know what you think you were doing, but I’m in charge now,” you told him, spreading your legs seductively, leaving him with a perfect spot to place his mouth. 

He was down on his knees within a second, not even minding the cold, hard bathroom floor. His lips sucked around your clit harshly, forcing your hips to buck up from the wall. He didn’t miss a single beat, almost effortlessly working your body with his lips and tongues. Regardless of how you felt about this morning, your man was good and you both knew it. 

“Look at you finally being good. Maybe if you had been good all day, I would have been the one on my knees,” you told him between your moans. You felt more than heard him whimper against your body, picturing the roles reversed. 

He got you off quickly after that, wanting to prove to you so badly that he was good, so that hopefully, if you allowed it, he could get off too. You came with a deep moan, your back arched against the cool shower wall and your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him as close as possible to your body. His tongue didn’t stop until you were writhing, forcing him off of you. 

When you looked down at him again, a whole new rush of arousal shot through your body. His hair was a beautiful mess, tousled under your fingers and the water. His lips were swollen and wet, slightly parted as he finally got the chance to breathe. And his eyes. Oh his fucking eyes. He looked like an absolute glorious fucked out mess even though you hadn’t even touched him yet. He looked as breathless as you felt. The power you had over this man was borderline insanity. 

“Do you think you did a good enough job to fuck me?” You asked him lowly, watching his eyes widen. 

“Please. I’ve wanted to all day,” he told you honestly, the plea evident in his eyes. 

“I really don’t think you deserve it after your stunt this morning but I’ll be nice. You can fuck me, but you better make me cum twice of your cock before you even think about cumming,” you gave in with a dark chuckle, watching as a blush crept to his face and his cock twitched. 

He was on his feet in an instant, easily lifting you up and balancing your body between the wall and his strong chest. It didn’t take him much longer to slip his cock inside of you and from the angle, you could feel everything. Every vien, every ridge, every throb. He definitely chose correctly when he picked this position. 

WIth every thrust, his pelvis was brushing against your clit and the tip of his cock was perfectly hitting your g-spot. You couldn’t even hold the moans back. He was proving just how good he was tenfold, he deserved to hear how good he was making you feel. 

“You were so fucking bad this morning, you know that?” You asked, slowly dragging your hand up his chest and to his throat. You didn’t clench down hard, but the fact that your hand was there was enough to make him moan. “Who gave you the filthy idea that peeping on me was the right thing to do?” 

“Y/N, fuck,” he said back, not quiet an answer, but you knew exactly what it meant. It meant that as your orgasm was building, so was his and he was having a hard time controlling it between your words and your hand so perfectly placed. 

And you knew exactly what to do to tip him over the edge. To make him cum and break the rules some more just so you could fuck with him more later. It was devious, but it was the perfect punishment. 

“You’re not showing me how good you can be. I know how close you are. Are you thinking about me in the shower again? How good I looked touching myself while you watched?” You questioned, your hand only gripping his throat tighter. 

“No. Fuck. I’m being good, please,” he begged aimlessly, thrusting inside of you erratically, just proving how close to the edge he was. 

“If you were good, you wouldn’t act like a desperate little boy,” you told him, trying your best to sound coherent through your own moans. 

You gripped his chin between your fingers to hold him steady before bringing up your other hand and swinging it against his face, a resounding crack echoing around the empty locker room. His head remained steady, but his entire body trembled. He managed to keep you upright, but he was breaking down slowly, spiraling to his release. 

“You better make me cum before you do,” you got out, at least managing to sound menacing enough. 

“I’m so close. Please cum, please,” Harry whimpered, fighting against himself to get you there. 

No matter what, you could never say that Harry Potter was a quitter. He raced to get you to your finish, and when you did, you contracted around him so tightly he hissed and you released with a scream, unable to hold back the sound. He came with a groan, his head buried in your shoulder. 

You took a moment to catch your breath before opening your mouth to speak. “I thought I told you to make me cum twice before you did,” you offered weakly, still a little breathless. But nevertheless, your words had their desired effect. 

Harry’s head immediately snapped up and you could already see the apology in his eyes. You chuckled slightly as you slid back down the wall, gracefully landing on your feet. 

“Don’t worry, baby boy. You’ll learn your lesson for that one later - nothing a few edges won’t be able to fix. But first we need to finish your shower, hm?” You asked softly, moving his messy hair back out of his face. 

He gulped but gave you a steady nod before flashing a barely there grin. He was a little shit - basically asking for a punishment. But he was all yours.

[professionalsimpfor2dboys]

“Scenting” Obey Me Fluff (slightly sexual)

All demon brothers x Female! MC

Introduction: when in Devildom, MC always knew demons were very different from her human self but she never knew they did something called “scenting” until some random demons did it to her, ensuing a very possessive & peeved off demon brothers

MC sat at her desk as she normally would but quieter than usual, compared to her other classes she’d be surrounded by her demons but this was the only class that she had none of them in. Sighing out of boredom, she hunched over her desk as she waited for the bell to ring but was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. She looked up to meet black eyes that belonged to one of the many demon classmates she had grown used to ignoring.

“Hah! I told you! She finally noticed me!” He cheered cockily at his friends that stood alongside him, each very different from the other. “Jeez, I almost gave up on getting your attention, human,” he winked flirtatiously, which MC just blinked at in an oblivious manner.

“Hey! Just because she noticed you first doesn’t mean she doesn’t see the rest of us either!” The shorter out the bunch yelled out defensively.

“Ah, sorry...? I never realized anyone was trying to get my attention. Could I help you with something?” She questioned, holding a finger to her chin. After multiple lectures from Lucifer and the others but mostly Lucifer she had grown accustomed to not conversing with other demons since she was told they wanted nothing but to eat or hurt her and what idiot was not gonna take that warning? It surprised her that they seemed overall harmless, other than a common spark in the eyes of each of the demons in front of her.

“W-well, it’s not necessarily something you can help with...” a particularly shy-looking demon stepped forward, his black hair covered his eyes like a curtain which he nervously patted at. “W-we have a slight, ahem, fascination with h-humans...particularly y-you,” he trailed off as a taller demon slung an arm around his shoulders.

“Quit beating around the bush! We like you, human! You’re pretty cute!” Said demon announced, winking then continuing to give the shy boy a noogie.

A melodious giggle to their ears erupted from her throat at the slight blushing faces of her previously unknown classmates in front of her. “I’m flattered! I didn’t think I met up to demons’ preferences,” she laughed. MC was happy to be conversing with others for once, not being isolated to just the seven brothers felt as if a weight was lifted off her shoulders which she hadn’t noticed before and the fact that they found her cute was all the better.

“Nah! Attractive up there is still attractive down here! All we really prefer is that our horns don’t get caught up with each other when kissing and since you don’t have any it’s all the better!” The first demon replied cheerily, patting at her head to get the point across as she laughed. “Not to mention, since you’re human, you have a different type of beauty ‘bout you that we’re not too used to,” he continued, boldly leaning close and tipping her chin upward with a finger.

It was MC’s turn to blush. As her cheeks dusted with a slight pink tone, she couldn’t help but giggle at her classmates’ antics. “You guys are a funny bunch. I like y’all!” she commented happily, smiling at the four demons in front of her. It felt strange to not feel afraid of anyone other than her particular seven demons but not in a negative way. Inside she hoped that this would start a domino effect of others wanting to try striking up a conversation with her, the thought made her feel warm inside. The four stepped back in surprise at her revelation, whilst blushing at her cute smile they all shared a look with one another.

“D-do you mind if we, um, s-scent you...” the shy demon stuttered out as he twiddled his fingers nervously, fearing her reply to such an intimate request. Seeing her head cocked to the side, he quickly tried to explain himself. “A-Ah! We don’t want to fully scent you! Just one rub to show our interest in you is all! We would never fully scent without an established relationship! It’s just to show that we’re trying to court you is all! Y-you don’t even have to accept!” He rambled, jumping forward out of how frazzled he was which revealed his two gold eyes from underneath the curtain of pitch black hair.

“Sorry to interrupt, but what is ‘scenting’ exactly?” She questioned, confused at what it was and why there were different types. Realizing she didn’t know what it meant, the shy demon’s legs gave out from embarrassment as the taller demon caught him, his outbursts seemed to be normal to them.

“Oh, right! You’re human so you don’t know!” The shortest realized, putting his fist in to his other hand. “Hmm, long story short it’s what demons do to show our interest in someone,” he shrugged simply, but a sly glint in his eye as well as the smirk that lifted his lips said something else, which MC didn’t quite catch. “Here! I’ll show ya!” He continued before dipped down and nuzzling his neck against hers just once before pulling away with a satsifactory grin as he inhaled.

“Hey, you’re leaving some things out-“ the black-eyed demon spoke up before the shortest cut him off.

“You don’t mind it, right? It’s completely harmless!” He shrugged, holding his hands up and shaking his head innocently. The other three waited quietly in anticipation.

“I-I guess,” MC nodded which four smiled triumphantly at. The black-eyed demon didn’t waste time in following the prior demon’s actions but with a warmer smile before the taller did the same, a flirtatious lift to his lips. That left only the shy demon to scoot hesitantly close before rubbing his neck against hers. Once. Twice. Before being pulled away by the other three.

“Hey! What are ya trying to do? Don’t be going overboard with the scenting, dumbass!” The tallest reprimanded, holding him by the back of his collar.

“I-I’m sorry! I got carried away! I wasn’t going to do anything more! Promise!” He wailed as the three pulled him out the classroom just as the bell rang, not forgetting to wave at her as they left.

“Strange. I wonder what the brothers will have to say.” She thought to herself.

-

Disappointed but not surprised that the brothers each had plans after school, she walked home alone that day. One would think at least one would stay behind for her safety, but she felt that they were beginning to get too used to having her around and often forgot she was human, which was nice she was so included and familiar to them but annoying nonetheless when she didn’t get to see anyone until dinner. Beel and Satan had after school activities, which she understood as well as Lucifer having his own duties to Lord Diavolo but the other four’s excuses were ridiculous to her. Mammon texted her to inform that he was going to be trying to break into Diavolo’s office at school with the full intent to steal any valuables in there, Levi had shut himself in at some newly opened Internet cafe and refused to even do his online classes there, Belphie had disappeared somewhere most likely in a strange spot sleeping, and Asmo was completely focused on waiting in line at a popular cake store since morning just for what he called the “perfect Devilgram post”.

By the time she had gotten home she had completely forgotten about the whole “scenting” thing and decided to take a shower. She had just gotten out when she heard hurried footsteps leading to her door. Acting quickly, she ran to the door and locked it before anyone could enter and see her in all her naked glory. This was met with a deep “oof” as the person hit the door, expecting it to open, and followed it with loud knocks when it didn’t.

“Oi! Why’s the door locked? Who ya got in there? I can smell ‘em!” Mammon’s voice berated as he incessantly banged at the door, awaiting his human’s answer. He stopped briefly to press his nose against the crack of the locked door as he deeply inhaled to pinpoint the foreign scent before starting back up again. “Oiiii! Who’s scent is that? That ain’t any of my brothers or mine!” He yelled.

“Yeah, because it’s mine! I just got out the shower! Are you a bloodhound or somethin’? Am I not allowed to lock the door or would ya rather see me naked?” She yelled back, annoyed at his questions. Obviously she’s going to smell like her body fragrance after coming out the shower, what kind of question is that?

Blushing at her remark, he stopped knocking but still cocked his head to the side out of confusion. He knew her scent so why did it smell different? Shaking his head, he brushed it off as a new body lotion or something among those lines. “I’ve told ya! Demons have got a stronger sense of smell than ya humans! Anyways, I’m on dinner duty and it’ll be done in thirty minutes so I expect ya down here right when it’s done! The Great Mammon’s food shouldn’t be kept waiting, alright?” He stated.

“Yeah, yeah! I’ll be down there when I’m ready to!” She answered angrily, his questioning from earlier and the fact that he abandoned her to try breaking into Diavolo’s office instead taking play.

-

She took her time after that, knowing fully well that dinner was ready and the others were sat waiting for their beloved human that they neglected all day to come down and eat with them. By the time she came down, they had all been seated and Beel was already on his fifth plate which didn’t take him long mind you.

“Ah, better late than never, I suppose,” Lucifer commented teasingly, noting her damp hair as her excuse.

“Hurry up and eat before Beel devours it all!” Mammon ushered at the seat in front of him, he usually sat beside her but the twins had beat him to it since there was only one seat she preferred to sit at.

Taking her usual seat, she began to eat but it wasn’t long before a faint but definitely there foreign scent emanated from her. Reaching Belphie first while Beel was too busy stuffing his face with food. It roused him from his short slumber he decided to take at the dinner table, as he inched forward towards his human’s neck. She jumped when she felt his nose pressed against her nape as he inhaled and pulled away with a disgruntled look on his face.

“Why do you smell like that?” Belphie sneered. At this point, the smell had reached Beel as well and he promptly stopped his feasting to investigate. He followed Belphie’s actions but on the opposite side, deeply inhaling before quickly pulling away with furrowed eyebrows.

“Yeah...you smell like someone else,” Beel growled, surprising her at the tone of his voice. The smell wafted towards the other brothers as well and it wasn’t long before they were all on their feet, surrounding her with quizzical expressions while each taking turns of two to sniff at her exposed neck as she sat red-faced at the attention. She knew she was a bit petty from being neglected earlier but she didn’t expect this much attention at once!

“I knew I smelt something-someone earlier!” Mammon said as he angrily took another whiff, which only peeved him off more.

“How strange,” Satan hummed, a smile on his face that she knew masked his anger all too well. The brothers tried to rack their brains from what the scent could be from before Levi suddenly gasped.

“S-she’s been scented!” He revealed before dipping down yet again to smell. “And by, what seems like, multiple demons!” He continued, an angry flush against his cheeks. All the brothers looked at each other before returning their attention back to MC, who sat looking dazed in her chair.

“Now, now, lets give her space,” Lucifer commanded, waving his hand for his brothers to step away. “Care for an explanation, darling?” He questioned, the glint in his eye and slight furrow of his forehead outing his subdued anger as he felt a crack in his pride that some lowly demon, multiple in fact, had scented his human and she allowed it. He held a threatening but gentle hand on her shoulder as she tried her best to rack her brain to recall why she would smell like someone else. A lightbulb lighting up in her brain when she finally recalled.

“Ah! I talked to four classmates of mine for the first time and they mentioned something about ‘scenting’, I didn’t really understand it and next thing I knew they were doing it so that’s probably why!” She explained, looking up at the brothers with innocent eyes that made their hearts squeeze. So, she didn’t know.

“And what did they tell you about it exactly?” Lucifer questioned further.

“Hmm, they said demons do it to show their interest in someone? Something about courting?” She replied.

“Aw, my poor darling! Taken advantage like that!” Asmo cooed as he threw his arms around her.

“O-oh, did they lie?” She asked sheepishly.

“More like gave ya half-truths!” Mammon answered as he ran a hand through his hair in a frustrated manner. “Satan, explain,” he sighed, waving his hand.

“Well, while what they said was true it was very vague and not all of it. Scenting is when a demon claims one as their own, it’s territorial and tells other demons to back off or else there’s gonna be...problems,” Satan explained in a matter-of-fact manner.

“They mentioned something about not ‘fully’ scenting. What’s that?” She asked.

“Ah, if they did that we’d have their heads,” he chuckled out evilly before resuming his explanation calmly which made her shiver. “Fully scenting is when demons claim one as their mate. It creates a tether between them more romantically intimate than a pact and is stronger smelling than normal scenting. The one who was scented on can also release distress signals when in danger and it’ll alert the other demon almost right away,” he ended.

“A-Ah, so there was more to it,” she laughed weakly, realizing how dumb she was before.

“Hm, yes. Well, it seems that we’ll have to further stake our claim on our human here. Luckily we’re powerful demons, so we can easily break this mediocre scenting,” Lucifer stated before pressing his lips against her neck and harshly sucking, causing a gasp to leak out her lips. He pulled away and smirked at the bright hickey that bloomed on her neck as well as the fading scent that was on her.

“I agree,” Mammon monotoned as he did the same, finding her sweet spot almost instantly as he suckled and kissed on it to leave a deep bruise. “How dare they put their disgusting scent on my human?” He growled against her. She covered her mouth to muffle her voice, but Levi pulled them away.

“I don’t think so,” he tsked, nibbling at her jaw and smirking against her as she gasped at the feeling of his bite on her skin.

“We’ll be covering you with these,” Satan spoke against her, dipping to her clavicle to leave yet another hickey as he circled his tongue around it.

“We’ll put it in places you can’t cover and make it so dark no makeup could make a dent!” Asmo giggled mischievously as he aimed for where her jugular was, causing her to shiver.

Beel licked his lips at the sight of her as he took it upon himself to bite new territory, which was her shoulders. “This is better than when I wanted to eat you when we first met,” he mumbled lowly, lapping at the bite marks he left on her to soothe them.

“Ah, hardly any room for me,” Belphie muttered before taking a bite at the top of her chest, her jumping up as a reaction making him smile smugly.

Oh, how was she was going to avoid prying eyes at school tomorrow?

I’m a whore for scenting so I wanted to give it a go! I think ima make this a series since they didn’t fully scent on her just yet & will probs make a part for each of my bois, Mammon being first of course! Oh and I’m definitely gonna make them smutty because duh probably start off being some fluffy cute cuddles & then progress to absolute ravaging ;) interested?

Oh and what do y’all think of the demons I made up for this story? I kinda like their personalities & antics together idk 🤷🏻‍♀️

[colossal-fallout]

Historia and male bodied reader. Breeding kink. I'm making you go further down this hoe you dug

The Farmhand Father 🌾

Male bodied reader X Historia

Momma Sarah is feeding you male bodied readers well with this one...

Warnings: 18+ NSFW smut. Breeding kink. Size kink. innocence tainting. Seducing. Orgasm denial. Slight pillow Princess Historia.

Seriously... This is filth. You've been warned.

You remember mere hours ago that cute face of Historia blushing deeply, squirming in such a shy way, you thought it was absolutely adorable. Her huge, sky blues' glancing away nervously, her hands behind her back a sure sign of her feeling uncomfortable as she confessed her desires for you.

This powerful, high queen dressed now in normal clothes as she came to your farm escorted by her two most trusted guards.

You blink, her words melting into a blur as if you were receiving some awful news.

Yet, it couldn't be further from the truth.

Queen Historia. In all her royal glory. Someone who had visited your farm a fair few occasions. Nothing special. Royal duties and all that. You had been in awe at her beauty - as were most. She was straight from a fairy tale. Innocent, pure and sweet.

No.

She wasn't like she were from a fairy tale. Historia was the physical manefestation of inspiration to write the most gorgeous queen in the land. The most dangerous calling siren; her luring beauty so hazardously tempting.

You had to admit it, you were more than surprised to see her at your door, still looking devine even in nicely pressed civilian clothes.

"And so, due to royal duties I must produce an heir, to keep the Riess bloodline and - "

You were sure you'd heard her but your mind just wasn't accepting it. This had to be a dream. There was no way this was actually happening.

Perhaps you'd fallen and hit you head on the horse plough again and this was some weird coma dream. You were sure to wake up to those two Colten boys from the next farm over annoying you by trespassing. The usual, fantasy free life.

"Of course, I understand if you don't want to. Please don't feel forced because I am your queen. It's just... You are my first choice. I've wanted you for some time." Her crimson face glances away.

You already felt your cock twitch at the mere words of her suggesting what she was.

It was torture every single time she's visited to boost morale of the farmworkers. Her graceful form would float in, her delicate frame surprisingly strong as she even helped out with certain tasks, her kindness overflowing, pouring into the hearts of her citizens.

God what you wouldn't give just to smell her...

The amount of times you'd tugged yourself stupid, panting her name and imagineing her little pussy stretching around your colossal cock.

Boy was she in for a shock.

You hold yourself steady, your mouth watering with excitement. You did well to hide it. Surely if she knew how desperate you were for her, the extent of the yearning for her would surely make her rethink her decision.

You sit tense - still not really allowing yourself to believe this was real.

"What about your guards?" You ask, trying your hardest to keep your words steady.

She glanced back out of your living room window, the guards waiting by her carriage at the bottom of your large yard.

"They've been told to stay put. But, I don't mean we do this right now. I want you, I do. But shouldn't we get to know each other a bit more?"

Shit.

Now she was within your grasp, you couldn't risk her changing her mind. This was an opportunity of a life time. And you'd be damned if she gave up her innocence to some soldier.

But what could you do?

You most certainly were not going to force yourself upon her. You weren't a monster. Also, even if you were, you would probably be executed for such a thing.

And rightly so.

Your mind races as she stands up to excuse herself.

"It'll allow you some time to think. I'll be back here in one month from now."

A whole month?!

30 whole days of knowing she wanted you, was wet for you and might change her mind at any given time?! No way were you about to let that happen.

You spring to your feet, throat now suddenly dry.

"Historia. If I may...?" You hold out your hand feigning patience.

You're thrilled when her satin soft palm lands within yours, a touch you'd craved for the longest time. A gasp escapes her as you sit back down and pull her comfortably onto your lap. Her heart hammering with excitement as this strapping farmer she had been wanting for a while now pulls her down with such bold strength.

Her lips stay parted and that cute magenta tone etches her cheeks.

"Of course. Let's get to know one another better." You sneer. "There's something I must warn you about."

"Oh?" She sings in surprise as you allow yourself to finally inhale her scent. Her warm form on your lap was enough - your monster cock growing, yawing and stretching itself awake.

You swivel her around so she's now straddling you as you lean back further into the chair, your hands firmly caressing her thighs as her crotch sits on your solid errection.

Her eyes widen, nails slightly dig into your skin reflexively when she feels the sheer size and girth of you. Her thighs subconsciously squeeze together as that Magenta colour deepens into more of a crimson hue.

"Oh... I..." She stammers, squirming uncomfortably.

She didn't think it would be possible to want you more. You'd certainly caught her eye and she'd thought about you often, wondering how you were doing and wether or not you saw her the way she did you. And now, feeling your huge beast beneath her ceased all of her cognitive functions.

"Would that be okay, my sweetheart?" You coo, brushing her hair from her face and holding back a sneer.

You needed this to work.

You. A mere farmer about to fuck the queen. The innocent, pure queen who no one else had fucked (male anyway). You didn't mind the rumours that she had dated a fellow female soldier in her cadet days. She's still untainted by sinful cock.

Beneath your cool exterior was a panicked inferno of hazed lust. There was no possible way she was walking out of that door without being fucked by you, now you felt the warmth of her pussy rolling through the cloth of her panties under that skirt as her legs splayed across you.

Historia's blood ran hot and she was close to crumbling.

"I need to go." She muttered yet didn't make a move. Her eyes were still wide - her mind telling her to leave but her body refusing to let her.

Your fingers snake up to her waist before you begin you push her back and forth, her slit rubbing against your large buldge.

"I just wanted to make sure." You mutter, your soft facade quickly falling away as you have her warmth massaging you, moving her small form with such ease. "Before you go. I need you to be sure. I need you to really feel me. To know what you're going to be having."

Her face deepens in colour as warm, beautiful sensations caress her clit and folds as you rock her up and down against your length what was now throbbing; aching to be released and inside of her.

Wit great restraint, you prevent yourself from running your hands all over her. If you come on any stronger it would surely break the spell. You had to wait for the right moment.

"y-yes. Of course." She swallows hard, her chest rising and falling as you push her down a little harder, your groan being held back.

"You're so beautiful." You marvel, as if it was your first time noticing it.

Her hands suddenly and quickly run up your chest as she leans forward with a moan and crashes her lips against yours, her hips now grinding against you on their own accord, your hands now free to roam up her back as her hands run through your hair with desperation.

You sneer into her mouth, her lust too far gone for her to notice as this beautiful woman rubs against you frantically like a cat in heat, moaning into your mouth.

"I need you." She breathes, rubbing her head anywhere she could against you. "Please don't let me go. I need you now. Please have me... Oh please..."

With a grunt you get to your feet, her body wrapped around you as you carry her towards your bedroom. Your tongue swirled around her sweet little mouth, devouring her as you lock your door behind you and lower her down onto your bed.

"Jesus, Historia..." You gasp when you see a wet patch on your trousers where she'd been sitting.

"I'm sorry!" She squeaks, mortified. You didn't think there were a deeper shade of red on the colour spectrum as she slithers in embaressment.

"Don't be." You breathe, removing your damp pants and springing your cock free.

She gasps at the sight of your huge dick, it's fat head gleaming with malice as it almost angrily pulses and throbs, demanding entrence inside of her.

Pushing her legs up harshly, you put your face close to her soaked crotch, finally inhaling her scent before you encase your mouth around her, sucking the moisture from the material - your hot breath feeling heavenly as her head throws back.

She'd never wanted a man so much in her life. Nor had she been so turned on in all of her twenty one years.

You continue to suck and hum, your wish finally coming true. You couldn't wait to ruin her tiny frame, your fingers hooking at the cloth and pulling them down her legs.

"Please, don't stop." She pleads.

You glance down at her bloom that sat neatly between her legs.

Thick ropes of slick covered her small pink lips, her hunger making it twitch and clench, her insides spasming and trying to grab onto anything it could to ingest.

"fuck..." You sigh before leaning down and running your tongue up, moaning at her taste.

"Ah~!" She cries out in Hysteria, her back bending and hands gripping your sheets as you run your tongue painfully slow over her clit.

You had to give her the best orgasm of her life. You would go insane having her then not being able to again.

You take a fingertips and push it against her warm hole. You weren't sure how your were going to fit inside of her.

You'd make it fit.

Your name leaves her lips over and over as you insert your index, her insides instantly pulling you inside with glee.

Suddenly you pull away, leaving her starving as you make her way up her stomach, removing her shirt.

"You can't cum yet..." You explain as your trembling fingers removes her coverings. "It needs to be huge and at the same time as me. Best chance of becoming pregnant."

She nods, pained but understanding.

"Gonna fill your pretty pussy with my hot cum..." You groan into her as her now freed breasts are caressed by your mouth. "Get you nice and full with me. Gonna breed you like a pedigree bitch."

She whines at your words, your name repeating over and over as you kiss her breasts as if they were her mouth; tongue lapping and swirling around her pink nubs, lips smacking loudly against her soft, clean skin.

You lean back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Queen Historia, a flustered quivering and pleading mess - naked and splayed on your bed.

"Let's get you a little used to my size, huh?" You grunt, pupils dilated with a predatory hunger, pushing her arms up by her head and hovering above her chest removing your shirt with one hand.

You push your leaking head to her mouth.

"Kiss it." You command.

She does so immediately, her mouth pouting as she presses it against you, smearing your messy liquids around her lips. Rocking your hips you grab her hair with one hand pushing her mouth down. Her jaw is wide and you can only get her lips just past your huge head.

Hissing loudly you push her as far as she'll go, her eyes tragically beautiful as they water at your size her warm mouth sealed tightly around you; her tongue flat as you rock her head by her hair, her stifled moans loud and hysteric.

"Shi~~~t..." You sigh, as she gags and chokes, the back of her throat spasming around you, pulling her faster as you thrust into her, now with two hands as you push yourself up higher onto your knees.

"You've never had your mouth around a dick before, huh?" You ask.

She shakes her head, wet lashes fluttering with blinks before they roll with another loud choke.

You pull out, allowing her some air, ropes of her saliva sticking to you, keeping you connected to her mouth.

She whines your name after her gasp of oxygen before you push yourself back in, thrusting harder than before, your grip on her hair nice and tight as you skull fuck your queen.

"By the time I'm done with you, you'll only ever want my cock." You hum, sneering as her eyes roll furher, the squelching noises like music to your ears. One final deep thrust and you pull out, your orgasm brewing at a dangerously high speed.

"Take me, please!" She begs. "I need you inside of me! I'll do anything... Please!"

Panting you spread her legs, the arousal of you fucking her mouth now a wet patch on your bedsheets. Taking the bottom of your shaft you line up to her heat. You can already feel her walls trying to pull you in from within her. You sluggishly rub your thumb againt her external g spot, pushing yourself forward.

She cries out loudly, her spine folding backwards and head tilting as your head squishes into her tiny hole.

"It's s'so big... Ah~! I'm so full!"

"Oh baby..." You frown. "My head isnt even fully in you yet."

She whines in response as you slowly rock yourself, your angry errection tainting her with its poison, her purity ebbing away with each push, each millimetre that slides inside.

"So fuckin' tight." Your moan is desperate, hungry and predatory.

Glancing down you see her lips splitting apart at your girth, the pink colour washing out into a faded white as they attempt to swallow you.

"y/n!" She warns. "I can't. It's too good!"

You were inside of her now. You were too far gone to care as her entrance begins to spasm at the delicious full feeling of you, her orgasm hitting her hard as she silent screams, her eyes rolling.

"Fuck..." Your mouth waters as she gets even wetter, her ridged tunnel attempting to pull you in deeper. You take this opportunity, harshly thrusting into her while her mind was swirling in the void. You jut forward as your head finally passed her entrance, just as she comes back around.

You can't believe your eyes as you see the bump of your head pushing up against the flesh of her lower stomach - the sight alone almost making blow your thick load.

Historia is now extremely needy, her hands pulling you down and her lips taking yours faithfully as she sobs.

"S'so... Good. Ah~! Don't ever s'stop. Baby..."

"Never." You grunt pushing further into her.

"I can't... I'm going... Again...!"

Your eyebrows fly up in surprise as her nails sink into your back as she clings to you for dear life, holding you as close to her as possible as she cums once more around you.

Your eyes furrow closed. It was getting harder and harder not to cum and you hadn't even thrusted yet. You still weren't fully sheathed. Maybe you shouldn't have gotten cocky and fucked her sweet mouth.

You finally push yourself fully into her as her tongue lolls from her mouth.

"s'so full ah~! Y/n."

You begin to slowly dip into her, her snug insides so warm and tight, embracing your length lovingly, clamping and dancing around you in joy.

"I can't... Go back " she suddenly groans. "Not without you. Without this. Come back with me. Fuck me whenever I please. Your queen commands it."

Had you died and gone to heaven?

You nod. "Sure."

"Fuck me like this every night. I'll just lie here and your size alone can just... Ah~! Again~!"

Your dick is squeezed again, as she cums for a third time without much effort on your part.

"Fuck me over and over. Keep impregnating me. Only your cock is good enough, y/n. Yes! YES!"

Those words pushed you over the edge as well as her greedy tiny cunt sucking out your essence.

"Historia. I'm gonna cum."

"Give me it all." She sobs. "I want every last drop!"

Your pace quickens your hand grabbing and tugging her hair once more.

"Your dick is the only one I've had. And only one I ever will. It's too good not to own. It's mine now. Fuck me, please!" She cries out as she cums yet again.

You roar as your thick, hot cream splurges out of you, colliding with her cervix as she milks you dry. It sure as hell felt like she was taking every last drop - your orgasm going on and on. Your cum is leaking out of her stretched lips by the time you've filled her to the brim - her eyes in the back of her head and mouth open.

She'd ment it too. You didn't even have time to pack your stuff after you'd recovered as she whisked you away to her carriage. Admittedly, she was walking a little weird for a few days after.

Part 2 coming soon....?

[stanknotstark]

Coming Out (Loki Edition)

Thank you @bokunoluv​ for requesting this because it was A LOT of fun to write 😊 I only hope it lives up to your expectations! I can totally write something else with more fluff if it wasn’t enough but i wrote what I felt came natural for this particular story! 

You’re not really sure when it dawns on you that you’re bisexual. It just kind of happens. You don’t make a choice it just kind of unfolds in your mind that you’ve always been but now you can label it. 

Thing is, you’re dating Loki and you’re not sure how to tell him. You don’t think he’ll judge you or anything, hell Loki had told you some of his exes have been male, hell even different species that didn’t exist on Earth. So, no, he won’t judge you but it’s still something big, special, and you felt it deserved to be said not with flare, that wasn’t your style, but it should be acknowledged. 

You’re sitting with Loki enjoying a late dinner because he had just come back from Asgard after a week of being gone. You totally hadn’t stolen clothes from his room and slept with them on a pillow like you were cuddling him, psh. 

You begin playing with your food a bit nervous, pushing the vegetables around.

“What bothers you, darling?” Loki asks, putting his fork down and grabbing your free hand on the table. 

You take a deep breath through your nose and look at the god. You open your mouth then close it. This didn’t feel like the right time. 

“Nothing important right now, how was your father?” You ask knowing that relationship is a bit strained.

Loki frowns at you but truly realizes you don’t want to talk about what bothered you and lets it go. 

“He is....he is good. We had a talk after mother trapped us in a room, for two hours might I add, and demanded we talk things out otherwise she would have Thor smite us both.” Loki chuckles, he looks at the table with a fond look in his eye, his thumb caresses the top of your hand. Obviously the talk went well which makes you happy for him. 

“While things aren’t completely better, things are definitely getting better between us.” Loki says, looking back up at you and giving a small smile. 

You smile back and flip your hand to hold his. “I’m really happy you’re working through things. I’m proud of you.” You say.

Loki practically puffs up at you saying you’re proud of him, something he hasn’t heard often. 

You’re kind of happy you didn’t tell Loki right now, you really don’t want to step on his moment. 

You both finish dinner in a comfortable silence and retire to Loki’s bedroom at a reasonable hour. 

By the time it gets pulled up again, a few days have past. 

This time you’re walking the streets of New York city with Loki, holding hands. 

While you only have eyes for Loki you both had agreed that you wouldn’t get jealous if either of you appreciated someones beauty. 

So, when you’re both walking the street and pass a woman who is no doubt some type of model you whistle and glance at Loki, tugging his hand to get his attention. Loki looks down at you then in the direction your nod to and sees the woman. 

The woman in question is all legs and olive skin. Her hair is pitch black and flows down her back till it stops at her wide hips that are covered in some daisy dukes. When she looks up at someone she’s with her eyes are a deep, chocolate brown that someone could probably lose themselves in. Her whole demeanor oozes with confidence, she knows she looks good. 

Loki hums thoughtfully and nods. 

“A fine specimen, good catch sweetheart.” Loki says to you. 

You smile as you both pass the woman but as you step past her you realize you pointed out a woman and feel a little defensive. Loki obviously notices your tension and frowns down at you.

“What has happened?” He asks, squeezing your hand in a way of demanding you look at him. 

You follow his demand and look at him. “I just-I didn’t-Nothing, I’m fine.” You finish lamely, looking away from Loki.

Loki stops walking and you’re forced to stop too seeing as you’re holding his hand. You stand a little in front of him so Loki pulls on your hand till you’re standing right in front of him, looking at the ground while rubbing your arm with your other hand. 

“Darling.” Loki whispers, the word almost swallowed by the city that thrums with life around you both but you hear it. Loki then uses his free hand to tilt your chin up and have you look at him. 

“Tell me what bothers you, you’ve been hiding something from me for the past few days and I can feel it eating you alive. Please tell me?” Loki begs of you, something new that makes you realize Loki truly cares because Loki does not beg. He finds begging to be a commoner’s practice and finds himself above it.

“I do have a secret but now isn’t the time to tell you.” You say with sad eyes, glancing around at the people walking past you, at the cars passing you both in the street, at the public thriving around you. 

When you look back to Loki his purses his lips but nods and starts walking again, you naturally follow him. Things stay a little tense for the rest of the day between you two but you appreciate Loki pretending everything is fine. 

Later on, when you’re both laying in bed, you lay splayed over Loki’s chest, your favorite position, and he has one of his arms wrapped around your waist, the other trailing up and down your back with light touches.

“Thanks.” You randomly say into his chest that rises and falls, a calming effect to you. 

“For what?” Loki asks, looking down at the top of your head. 

“For not pushing me, earlier.”

You know Loki knows what you’re referencing because he says, “I hope you know you can tell me anything, darling, I am the last person in your life that may judge you for anything. Do not fear to tell me your fears and concerns, we will work at them together. You are never alone.” Loki finishes with a kiss to your forehead. 

You accept the kiss and sigh, relaxing almost to a puddle in Loki’s arms. 

“I will in time. I’m just looking for the perfect moment.” You tell him, looking at him through your lashes. 

Loki squints at you but nods and lays his head back down on his pillow. 

“Sometimes the perfect moment comes when you least expect it.” Is all he says to you. You leave the conversation at that and give him a small good night which he answers by tilting your head to give you a proper kiss then lets you get comfortable around his body and fall into a deep, happy sleep. 

The whole thing isn’t brought up again until you’re in the middle of an argument with Loki. 

“It was rash, what you did, and I will not stand by and watch you risk your life like that!” Loki says strongly, not quite yelling but you know he’s close to it. 

“Then don’t watch me! I cannot watch as some innocent life gets killed when I know I could do something to save them!” You yell because Loki doesn’t ever understand your love for all life. 

“Their life is not worth yours!”

“You don’t get to decide whose life is worth anything, that is not your choice to make, it is only my choice because it is my life!”

“Are we not together? Are you not mine? Because if you are to be involved with me, that makes your life mine to watch over!”

“You do not own me!” 

Loki grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

You stand a few feet away your hands balled into fists at your sides, your eyes wild with fire. 

“I am not sure what is going on with you recently, first you keep secrets, stating you need the perfect moment but it has been a week and that moment has not come, I’m not sure it ever will! Now you throw your life around like there are not people who care about you, like I can live on normally if I lose you!” Loki yells out, his hand dropping to his side and his eyes burning with fear and hurt as they glare at you. 

You stand there breathing, trying to calm your hurt at him not trusting you, trying to not cry in front of him. Instead you let out an upset chuckle and look away from the god. “So much for trusting me.” You say, through grit teeth, before turning and going to make your way to the elevator. 

Loki grabs your wrist in a quick move. “Darling, wait, please, I do, I trust you,” Loki says to you who refuses to even look at him you’re so hurt from his words. “I trust you’ll tell me, I did not mean those words but I’m hurt and do not know what to do to make you realize you can tell me anything.” Loki finishes, his other hand that’s not holding yours right now comes up to turn you towards him but instead hesitates and drops back down to his side. 

You bite your lip hard, your tears are welled up in your eyes and you’re doing everything in your power to stop them from falling. 

“Just-” Your voice breaks, “-give me some time alone, please?” You beg of Loki, still not looking back at him. 

Loki lets go of your hand and you rush to the elevator. A single tear falling before the doors can shut completely. 

You spend hours on the roof telling yourself to go down and talk to Loki. Just tell him what you’re hiding. God, all you have to say is that you’re bisexual, it should not have gotten this dramatic. You pace the roof as you cry, furiously wiping at the stupid tears that fall. 

When you do make your way down to Loki’s room he is sitting on the floor in front of the single floor to ceiling window in his room. His knees are drawn up and his arms encircle them, his chin resting on top of his knees. When you enter he doesn’t look at you. He’s obviously hurt and doesn’t want to let it out on you more. 

You stand in the doorway for a few minutes deciding about how to go about fixing what’s happening right now. You decide words probably aren’t the best thing to work with and make your way over to Loki. When you stand behind him you hesitate but then grab him under the arms and pull up in a silent demand for him to stand. You’re shocked but he follows and stands. You then turn him around to look at you. 

You’re sure you look a hot mess right now, blotchy face, red nose, wild hair from pulling at it, but you don’t care, you care about taking care of Loki right now. He looks down at you with blank eyes and a blank face. So you give him a sad smile and go to his dresser to fish out some of his pjs. When you’ve found a pair of shirt and pants for him you come back to Loki and undress him. 

It’s a little concerning that Loki lets you push and pull at his body as if he doesn’t have any autonomy over his body right now. When you’ve dressed him you move him to the bed and lay him under the covers. You undress yourself into your bra and panties, not wanting to leave the room for anything, and crawl into bed with him and snuggle into him. 

Loki lays flat on his back, he silently watches as you get comfortable around him. Your head is resting in the crook of his neck, one arm under the pillow Loki’s head lies on, the other resting on his chest. Your legs are tangled in his by the time you’re truly comfortable. 

Loki doesn’t move, doesn’t touch you causing you to softly sob in his neck. 

“Please, please hold me, Loki, I’m so sorry.” You beg of him.

This causes Loki to jerk and he finally wraps his warm arms around you, tightly. As he hugs you to him he whispers, “I thought I had lost you.” His voice wavers as he says this. 

You swallow air, breathing in the smell of him to calm down in the crook of his neck. “Never. I just needed some time to think.” You explain quickly, your own voice trembling. 

Loki squeezes you into his body, nearly making you breathless. “I love you,” Loki says softly, “I love you so much.” He says more firm.

You hiccup and pull from his neck to look at him. You always expected yourself to be the first to say it. 

You laugh, sadness tinging the sound of it but you’re anything but sad. “You have atrocious timing.”

Loki laughs with you at this.

“But I love you too.” You say it back with heart, pulling Loki’s mouth to yours. The kiss is messy, your undried tears make it wet and you both kiss with a passion that causes it to be a little sloppy but you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. 

The day finally comes where you can tell Loki. 

You’re both cuddled up on your bed watching Mr. and Mrs. Smith. You’ve always had a thing for Angelina Jolie, while Brad is hot you would pick Angelina over him any day. 

You’re both sitting up with thousands of pillows strewn across, between, and on top of you both at the headboard of the bed. Loki has his right arm wrapped behind your waist, his hand idly caressing your hip under your shirt. His left hand rests on his lap, occasionally picking at the popcorn resting between both your legs. You sit with your left arm wrapped around Loki’s waist, your right stretched across your body to rest on Loki’s thigh. 

The scene playing out is when both Angelina and Brad are trying to kill each other in the house with palpable sexual tension.

“I would totally let Angelina go down on me.” You let out, randomly.

Loki hums delightfully, “I would love to watch that.” 

You giggle a little then say it. “Loki, I’m bisexual.” It comes out naturally. 

Loki looks down at you and smiles when you turn to look back at him.

“I know, sweetheart.”

“What?” You say a little shocked.

Loki chuckles. “Before we started dating I would catch you appreciating women’s physiques, not to mention that really flirtatious conversation you had with Natasha when Thor let you try Asgardian mead.” Loki explains. “I almost thought I would lose you too her.” He adds as an afterthought. 

“I didn’t-” You frown at Loki then realization dawns on you. “Oh.” Is all you can get out. 

Loki actually laughs, heartily enough to throw his head back a bit as he does. 

“You cannot lie to the god of lies, darling. Not to mention, because you were so oblivious about yourself being something other than straight you made yourself very obvious to everyone.”

“Wait, everyone knows?” You ask Loki, your voice jumping a little as you try not to laugh. A little shocked at how comfortable you are with this.

Loki continues smiling and says, “Yes. Natasha and I found out first, everyone else followed not long after,” Loki squeezes you to him, glancing at the TV to watch what’s going on for a second but looks back at you, “Was this the secret you’ve been trying to find the time to tell me about?” 

“Yes.” You say blushing hard, looking at the TV. Telling him seems so small now, not in an insignificant way but in a way that maybe you made the secret bigger than it truly needed to be. 

Loki makes a noise of acknowledgment and grabs your chin to make you look at him. 

“In this case, I suppose my magic will be handy now.”

You start to question what he means but then Loki has been enveloped by green then you’re looking into Loki’s eyes however he’s a gorgeous woman.

Your mouth opens a little, stunned, and Loki uses this to pull your mouth to hers and let her tongue explore your mouth with a smooth move. You can’t help it, you moan into her mouth and make Loki smile into the kiss. 

“Oh, darling, the things I will do to ravish you in this form,” Loki says after pulling from the kiss, you whimper at the loss of tongue but your eyes brighten with all the possibilities, “I will show you just what it means to be with a woman.” Loki finishes in his, now, light, feminine voice. 

You throw the bowl of popcorn across the room, not caring about the mess it makes causing Loki to laugh. Then move in a way that makes you straddle Loki’s lap, movie conveniently forgotten. As you look down at her bright green eyes and beautiful feminine face you smile and say, “You better hold yourself to those promises, my queen.” 

Loki’s eyes flutter from your lips and eyes, going a bit breathless, and shivering at your new nick name for her. She smirks up at you when she gains her confidence again, making you feel powerful that you have this affect over Loki. 

“I never break a promise, love.”

[pennyserenade]

tags: nameless female oc x javier peña, nameless female oc x javier pena. rating: e ( explicit ) warnings: smut, language, talks of violence, unprotected sex, heavy angst, mentions of death, guns, pregnancy.  word count: 3k+ summary: not everything can be spoken the way it can be felt.  notes: i somehow managed to do this despite feeling entirely unmotivated all day, so that’s nice. this takes place during episode 3, season 2, near the halfway mark.   original gif by: @javierian

una guerra sin piedad 

scene eight, scenes from a marriage

Javier is a good husband, or at least he tries to be. He doesn’t mean to do this--probably doesn’t even recognize that she knows he’s doing it. He is faced with so many objectives in a day's time, Javier doesn’t realize how easy it is to catch on to his lies. They are hardly coated, though, obvious to anyone who pays attention to him as much as she does, but that’s just it--he doesn’t pay attention at all.

He’s unaware that his fingers are shaking right now. It is a subtle act, a tremble hardly notable to the untrained eye, but these are the fingers that have been touching her for twelve years; she has seen them and felt them and come to know them better than her own. They have remained steady and nimble even after too many cups of coffee and one too many pieces of harrowing news, because they are trained to be fingers that don’t give way to anxiety. A stone body, a man meant to be unflinching in the face of the most awful of tragedies, but here with her, it allows his lies to leak out without his consent. It’s pleading, this body, asking for respite because he won’t go easier on it.

She holds his hands, keeping them steady before they can reach out and lay flat against her growing stomach. Javier looks at her and confusion sprinkles across features that are too pale to be normal, even to him. His eyes reveal an undeniable sadness, too, some sort of impact from war that he’s on the verge of losing simply because he refuses to ask for help. He is all alone in there.

“Me estás mintiendo, Javi,” she tells him, voice level and collected. “Te mientes a ti mismo también.”

He looks startled, and perhaps it is warranted. The glass case he enclosed himself in wasn’t so transparent or frail to him, after all. 

He takes his hands away slowly. 

“No,” he responds. “About what?”

“No sé. Not completely,” she shakes her head. “That’s why I said it.”

“I’m not lying about anything.”

“Javi.”

“What?”

“The cigarettes.” 

She watches his face fall. 

“You smoke them when you think I’m asleep but I do your laundry, and I can smell them when you get back in bed,” she shrugs. “You don’t hang out the window far enough either, and you always get ashes on the ground.”

“I can’t quit,” he confesses. “Not now.”

“I never asked you to.”

“Yo sé, pero…” he begins, but falters. “I wanted to.”

“I would rather you smoke than you lie.”

“Okay, but that’s all,” he confirms. “Only the cigarettes.”

“Javi.”

“I’m telling the truth.”

“You of all people should know withholding information is just as incriminating,” she huffs, “I’m stronger than you ever give me credit for. You aren’t the only one who sees the blood in the streets, you know. I saw it too, still do, because we live here and that’s the reality and I’m sick of having to deny it.”

“Baby,” he groans. “Please. I don’t ever ask you to postpone these things, but I cannot do this tonight. I cannot.” 

“What happened tonight, Jav?”

He shakes his head. Lips straighten into a tight line and his Adam’s apple bops. 

“It was nothing.”

“Please,” she pleads, in the same vein as his own. “You don’t know how bad I need to know what is happening in your mind.”

“Nothing.”

His eyes start going blank again, despite the small smile he forces onto his lips. It has gone quicker than it had come. 

She frowns. 

He senses that his control over this situation is ebbing away. Lies, denial, the cruel act of simply not telling—it oozes out of him. 

Deception ages poorly, if this is anything to go by. It is grotesque what the truth can do to something beautifully fabricated as their marriage has been the past few months. Those tiny cuts that had existed before are now bloody wounds, infected with the spoils of their selfishness.

He cups her face in his hand; she lets him. He swipes the pad of his thumb over the warm skin, and looks into her eyes; she lets him. He leans forward to kiss her; she does not let him.

She’s never done that. It hollows him out, digging deeper in the already sensitive heart he’s carrying around.  

“Te amo mucho,” she begins, taking the hand that cradled her face in her own, “but you are hiding from me and it hurts to see.”

He face twitches, as if he’s going to say something, but he grows hesitant. He realizes what he might lose, realizes what’s at stake. 

It is not that she hasn’t seen the violence, or that he thinks her too weak to handle it. He knows what she can bear, knows that before he ever met her she was reporting on what he found. Anyone in Colombia, reporter or not, knows, because this is what happens. Violence. She can’t not know. 

What she can avoid knowing is his involvement in it. Withholding the truth is just as incriminating, she is right, but she’s been here long enough to know that crime runs rampant. It infects the entire country with its allure—that promise of getting to better places faster—and he is someone who has been swept dangerously up in its tide. 

She does not need to know. Some things shouldn’t be told, just as those things shouldn’t have been done. 

Doesn’t need to know it had been a boy. Just a fucking mouthy kid who had been washed into a war he didn’t deserve to comprehend let alone contribute to. 

The gun was held by someone who should’ve protected him, too. Noble American hero he was, Javi stood by and watched. He hadn’t even wanted to tell Steve—was coerced out the way he refused to be with her. 

He swallows harshly and thinks once more about the line of English he muttered before it had happened. It was a plea the boy wouldn’t have understood or grasped, said because deep down Javier knew what was about to happen. He didn’t say it in Spanish, though. He has to reconcile with the fact that the plea was more for himself than it was the boy with the gun in his face. Has to reconcile with the fact that he won’t speak about it again, too, even though he knows it’s wrong. She doesn’t need to know that, does she?

“I’m not going to tell you,” he speaks with a harsh finality. Maybe it’s not so harsh; maybe it’s just the fact that it’s so final that really hurts.

She holds her breath, the pain of his answer sharp and sudden and irrevocably real regardless. 

“I can’t,” he repeats. 

There’s no way he doesn’t know he’s hurting her now, and she supposes he’s doing this for a good reason, but the ache of it still burns just as bad. 

“I know,” she says. Then, a sacrifice, “S’okay.”

Javier’s eyes shift down to her stomach. He has found an increasing need to keep his hands and arms wrapped around her nearly all of the time lately. Given, he has always loved the way she melts into his body when he wraps himself around her, but this is different; it is a sort of comfort that stems beyond liking the warmth of her. This is a need to protect. 

His feelings about the child still lean more towards confusion than they do anything else, but he’s begun to accept the fact that it is real. It’s hard to deny such a thing as her stomach begins to grow, but a part of him sort of likes knowing that it’s there now. He has given her something that isn’t pain, something that will be beautiful and innocent. He watches her, too, sees the way she holds her stomach and hears the way she speaks to it when she thinks he’s in a different room.

He remembers when she had told him that she was meant to be so much more than just someone’s mother or just someone’s wife. That felt like a century ago, those two people entirely different than the ones that lay here now and talk with each other. He doesn’t mourn for it, that time and those people, but he does think about them. 

She is still so much more than a wife and a mother, to be fair. Maybe she never accomplished everything she had envisioned when she had told him that, but there’s something so fiercely independent about her still, something entirely separate from anyone, even the one who grows inside her. 

She kept her last name. She reads all the time and piles books all over the house, adding personality in a way he never favored beyond his own shit until she came. She still writes. She’s compiled an entire record collection, full of artists and bands he’s never heard, and sometimes ones he has, the special sort that remind him of being a kid. She can sew. She is good at puzzles. She always burns her own toast but never his. She is good at oral because in the same way she had dedicated herself to a lot of things in life, she had also dedicated herself to learning how to suck a cock (her words, not his). She is filthy in a way that makes him ache sometimes, it’s so goddamn hot. She is kind. She is his everything. 

He isn’t happy or proud of the fact that he cannot find it in himself to admit what he has done. He knows she doesn’t deserve to be in a relationship filled with lies, ones so concealed she can’t even begin to find out what they are. Cigarettes are nothing in comparison to the things he witnessed tonight, and even those break her heart. 

His love for her is selfish, but it is still the very best part of him. 

“Let me touch you,” he whispers, hands ghosting lightly over her bare arms. “I just wanna make you feel good right now. Will you let me do that?”

She nods, and then, without him asking, she raises the slip she wears over her head, leaving her perfectly naked on top of him. He leans forward soon after and takes a nipple in his mouth. Her fingers rake through his hair as he runs his tongue against the sensitive flesh, but this time they do not tug. There is no rush or hunger in the way they are choosing to be with one other right now. Their bodies are too weak from emotional ware and tear, and their minds too numb from resisting the confrontation of the heaviness tonight has brought upon them. 

His fingers travel down to her core and when they find her clit, she pulls her back from her chest and kisses him, stealing a moan from his mouth. She breathes into him. After she pulls back, she rests her forehead against his own. Javi focuses more intently on her pleasure, measuring his success from the way her breath begins to quicken and the way her hips begin to rock up into his hand, desperate for more. He buries his face in the crook of her neck and she bites down gently at the skin of his shoulder, muffling herself as his fingers quicken the pace. She’s getting close, he knows. 

“That’s it, mi amor,” he tells her as she works herself on his fingers. “Use me, baby.”

It doesn’t take long until her lips part from his skin and find themselves letting out sharp moans, hips coming to a slow halt as she finishes working herself through the wave of her orgasm on his fingers. 

She presses her lips onto his, panting gently as she does so. When she allows herself to rest against him, he can feel how wet she is through the fabric of his boxers. 

He grabs onto the back of her neck and deepens the kiss. She wraps her arms around his neck and begins to rub herself against him, and he lets her for a few moments, enjoying what he can of her like this, before he rests a hand on her hip to stop it. 

“I want to taste you,” he tells her. She just looks at him. “Por favor.”

She nods, beginning to get off of him, but he grabs at her again, stilling her. Her eyebrows raise in confusion. 

“Sit on my face.”

“Javi, I’m too—“

“No you’re not,” he assures. He begins to lay down, pushing a pillow beneath his head. “C’mon, you like it.”

“Baby,” she hesitates. 

Javi tugs gently on her hand, urging her forward. She sighs, but caves in. 

He helps her, guiding her forward on his chest and she goes, but he can feel how nervous she is still.

He nips at her thighs before he adjusts herself over him. “I like doing this,” he tells her before he guides her forward the last few inches, and immediately he can feel all the tension ease from her as his tongue dips into her. 

She grabs a handful of his hair and licks between her folds, lapping up the last bit of her previous arousal. His nose grazes gently over her clit every so often and she cannot help the moan that escapes from her when it does. He is losing himself in her, transforming all the lies into nothing even for the briefest moments. 

He may not be the best husband, but he can make her feel good. He likes it too, genuinely enjoys the taste of her on his tongue and the accomplished, satisfying feeling of knowing he makes her legs weak and is the cause of the moans that part from her when she truly gets lost in this. And God, how they fall now as he sucks her clit. She unintentionally moves her hips forward. 

“Sorry,” she says, but Javi is quick to gently shake his head, not wanting to lose her. His hands wrap around her ass and he encourages it, going as far as moaning into her when she begins to develop a good pace. He gropes at her ass and she cums again, twitching gently this time. Javi cannot help the grin that forms on his lips as she does this. 

She guides herself off of him, collapsing next to him in the bed. Before he has the chance to wipe her arousal off his lips, she’s pulling him into a kiss. 

She loves this man. He may hurt her and hide from her, but she never feels unloved in his presence. Maybe that is enough. Maybe asking for any more than that is wrong. He is a good man. 

She kisses a trail down his chest, moving back in between his legs before she reaches the halfway point. 

“No,” he says, holding out his hand. 

“Why?” she questions.

“You don’t need to just because I did,” he says. “You don’t have to touch me at all.”

“I want to, Javi,” she tells him, hands shimming down his underwear. 

She kisses down his happy trail, then peppers light kisses around the base of his cock. His breath hitches, anticipating her next move, and he is delighted to find it is her tongue licking the underside of his sensitive member. He nearly jolts out of her hand, the sensation of her feels so good. 

He cannot help but tell her, saying, “Fuck, you do it just right.”

Despite all the ache still present in her, she manages a soft, unaffected laugh. He notes that, feels just as moved by that as he does the way her mouth wraps around his member and begins to be worked. 

She twirls her tongue around the top each time she comes back up, and she moves back down slowly, drawing multiple moans and “fucks” from his lips. He cannot look at her while she does it, unable to refrain from coming in her mouth if he does. He’s already dangerously on the edge as she includes her tongue when she’s going back down on his choke, running across each vein and causing his hips to twitch just as hers did. 

“I’m gonna—“ he pauses, fighting the urge to release with all he has in him. “I’m going to cum soon and I want it to be in you. You—“ he pauses again, breath leveling, “—you gotta stop or I won’t make it.”

“I don’t want you to,” she manages, before returning to his cock, going up and down at an increased rate. His fingers clench the sheets beneath him as she does this, losing it when she moans against him. He can’t stop it, can’t resist the urge any longer and doesn’t truly want to, knowing she’s not going to let him. 

He opens his eyes and watches her wipe a line of his arousal from her chin before she swallows down the rest of it. Tired and spent as he is, he still manages to rise from his back quickly to kiss her. He can taste himself on her lips, but he does not mind it. The kisses are not as lust filled, more tender and caring, and he is all the more pleased when she guides him backwards again, before settling next to him and wrapping one of her legs around his. His heart beats rapidly and his mind is not yet void of thought (he isn’t sure if it will ever be), but the tension between them has dissipated. Even if it is temporary, and even if it is something that is going to come back ten times worse, Javi values this for what is now and appreciates her submission once more into this fantasy land with him. 

She herself wonders, despite all the unspoken heartbreak, and despite all the unknown truths, what their baby might look like and what qualities it might possess from him as she lies silently next to him. Wonders because what she has learned is that the future is her friend and that imagining it does no harm.

It is a place where nothing is broken or harmed, the future. A place where she can cling to the vestiges of hope she’s granted even when he holds her and doesn’t tell her what he’s done or seen. It’s a place beautifully untouched by the unfair quality of truth and pain; a place where he stands in the doorframe of their bedroom with a small, newly born child and looks happy in a way she hasn’t seen in so long; a place where she will never have to fret about whether she will ever get that from him or not, because it is hers and she does. 

The future has always been kind to her, kind in the way the present never, ever seems to be. She clings onto Javi and even manages a sad sort of grin at the thought of a child who’s hair curls the same way his does when it gets too long. 

She doesn’t share these thoughts with him, though—hardly ever does—because she needs things for herself. Admitting these notions into the world is to corrupt them, or to corrode the meaning they have to her now. She loves him, but these are her thoughts the way whatever he battles are his. 

This is a scene of a war without mercy; this is scene eight from a marriage. 

javi tag list : @wyn-dixie , @rosiefridayrogersunday , @disgruntledspacedad , @melaniermblt , @walt-breslin , @theorganasolo , @amneris21 , @over300books

forever/everything tag list : @astroboots , @frannyzooey , @wyn-dixie , @rosiefridayrogersunday , @melaniermblt , @theorganasolo​ , @amneris21​

scenes tags: @gravegoth​ , @sarahjkl82-blog​ , @cmonkeepmoving​

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

I See You, I Know You- and I’m Not Going Anywhere

You're All I've Ever Wanted, All I Want to Know, part 2

Warnings: SMUT! THERE IS LOTS OF SMUT AHEAD!, oral (fem receiving), p in v sexy sex, shitty fiance of reader being shitty, slurs against the french (frog/froggy), angst, LOADS of feels, infidelity, gene mooning over reader to potentially OOC levels, tiny bit of innocence kink referenced, reader gets chatty when horny, untranslated french (bc it’s Gene’s POV so he wouldn’t think process and translate french in his head (let me know if you want me to add them)), unprotected sex (let’s just pretend there’s no risk, yes?), guilt, lots of potty words.

(My fancast for Peter Kelly is Pablo Schreiber but feel free to ignore it.)

Title(s) come from Duet by Penny and Sparrow and Only You by Matthew Perryman Jones

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It had been a relatively calm day in Schoonderlogt. The day was sunny- cold, but sunny- and everyone was taking advantage of the well-deserved break from the frontlines.

Gene was drinking some of the best coffee he’d had in months while watching a handful of Airborne and Army soldiers play some vaguely ruled interpretation of basketball, his eyes darting every so often towards the table a few yards away where you and the other nurses were casually sterilizing the linens and strips of fabric. 

You looked beautiful- your hair loose and your smile radiant as you laughed and joked with your friends. It wasn’t often that all of the company’s nurses were at the same place at the same time, so when the stars aligned and you got to see each other it never failed to bring you joy that would last for days afterward.

Your eyes caught his, and Gene couldn’t help but smile when you shot him a wink.

The merriment didn’t last much longer for you.

While Gene had been lighting a cigarette, he was dimly aware of another Jeep-load of Army men arriving at the mouth of the courtyard, not really concerned with the new arrivals.

Until you screamed.

When Gene and the other Easy men whipped their heads over towards the sound, he saw that someone- some man- had wrapped their arms around you from behind and lifted you off of your feet, a broad smile on the man’s face as he spun you around bodily.

“Froggy!”

Gene hadn’t realized he’d already gotten up and begun rushing for you until he saw Liebgott sprinting past him with balled fists and a fixed jaw. His blood was cold in his veins, heart thrumming anxiously as he catches sight of your pale face when the man sets you down, quickly turning in the man’s embrace and staring up at the grinning intruder.

Everyone comes to a halt when the man grips your bottom and pulls you into him for a deep kiss.

“Hey, Y/N!” Liebgott shouts, Gene watching with angry confusion as you quickly pull out of the kiss but don’t continue to shove the man away. “This guy bothering you?”

With your cheeks blazing, you offer a smile that doesn't reach your eyes, eyes still wide and flickering between Easy and this stranger.

“No,” you manage to say before the man wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you back into him.

“You gonna introduce me, Froggy-girl?”

Gene doesn’t like the way this man is bodily handling you, but what he really doesn’t like is how you seem to be letting him.

You clear your throat before shyly meeting Gene’s eyes.

“Guys, this is Peter Kelly,” you quickly look away from Gene and look to Joe Liebgott. “My fiance.”

You might as well have yanked Gene’s feet from under him.

~

Peter was everything Gene wasn’t: loud and boisterous and gregarious and extroverted, his jovial attitude initially winning over most of the guys.

That approval dissipates the more Peter drinks that night.

For Gene, he’d hated the man instantly. Not only because he was already half in love with you- although that was certainly a contributing factor.

No, Pete lost any respect from Gene the moment he saw the clear hickies hiding just beneath the collar of the man’s shirt. 

One time, when the two of you had been rolling bandages for restocking the soldier’s med-kits, you’d insinuated that Peter had a wandering eye. You hadn’t elaborated, but there had certainly been a tone of sad acceptance in your voice as you’d said it.

Judging by the way your eyes kept lingering on Peter’s throat, Gene knew that you knew exactly what had caused those marks.

It made Gene furious, but for your sake, he kept his seething to a minimum.

You seemed to shrink in on yourself, as if Peter’s presence made you wither from the inside. The more he spoke about you, it was clear to anyone listening that he didn’t respect you. Several times, Peter had referred to your nursing as ‘endearing’, ignoring your reminder that you weren’t doing this as a hobby with a look of faux apology and an admonishment for ‘upsetting your delicate frog-feelings’.

When Guarno had finally taken the bait and asked what all the frog references were about, you’d frowned and excused yourself with a grimace- a glower staining your face when Peter’s arm shoots out to pull you into his lap.

“Well, just look at her face- Doesn’t she look like the poutiest widdle frog?” 

He said this like a praise, Gene’s blood boiling as he watches you glare at a spot on the ground. With a bit of the fire you normally showed, you detangle yourself from his hold and announce that you’re going to refill your canteen- ignoring his childish whine and yelping when he smacks your ass as you leave.

“Also,” Peter says like a secret while hungrily watching you walk away. “Her mama’s second husband was one of those Frenchie types- so sometimes she acts a little spoiled- and all of us used to tell her to stop bein’ so froggy.”

When Peter shoots a wink Gene’s way, Gene gives him a glare before getting up and going the opposite direction you- not wanting to make your life any more difficult than Peter was clearly making it right now.

A little bit later, after Peter and some of the other Army guys invite Easy to join them at their basecamp, Gene overhears you and Peter arguing behind one of the stone buildings.

“I’m basically your husband, how am I supposed to explain to the guys that my girl doesn’t even want me to spend the night with her?”

“Because I know what ‘spending the night’ entails, and that is certainly not happening—”

Gene hears Peter groan, the beer he’d had earlier making him act more immature than before.

“I’m not getting tested. Why can’t you just trust me—?”

“Because you’re not trustworthy!” your voice is shrill, disgust lurking below the surface. “You clearly have been with someone recently, and I refuse to risk my job- my life- because you want to get off.”

Peter scoffs at that, and Gene creeps closer to hear better.

“You’re a nurse, Y/N. it’s not like you’re a medic—”

“Fuck you.”

Gene retreats quickly upon hearing your footsteps, only stopping when he hears a smacking sound. Before he can rush back, he hears you snarl.

“Don’t think you can ever put your hands on me like that ever again- on anyone. Next time, I won’t go easy on you with a slap. Now go away.”

~

With everyone else gone to the Army’s basecamp, Gene joins you in your temporary quarters, where you’re scribbling inventory reports with an angry grip on your pen.

It’s tense- and Gene wonders if you’d somehow known that he’d overheard your spat with Peter earlier. Your shoulders are up by your shoulders, leg bouncing beneath the table as you sit on the seat’s edge.

Gene knows you’re upset, but selfishly he’s upset too and knows he won’t be able to leave you to fester without at least trying to talk to you.

With obvious frustration, you all but throw your finished report towards the pile of completed paperwork by your feet, clearing your throat a few times as you stare at the wall in front of you.

Suddenly you sigh, your head tilting upward as your shoulders slump in defeat.

“Just go ahead and say it, Eugene.”

Gene frowns, staring at the back of your head. “Say what, Y/N—?”

“Whatever you’re trying so hard not to say, I can feel you ruminating all the way from over here.”

He pauses, feeling as if he may be walking into a trap that could make things infinitely worse. 

Screw it.

“You deserve better.”

You scoff sadly, a bitter sound that makes his chest ache in empathy.

“You sure about that?”

“‘Course I am. You deserve someone who doesn’t talk to you like you’re nuthin’. Someone who is kind and good and wants to make you happy—”

“What makes you think that he isn’t all of those things?”

“He’s a pig, Y/N….he is nuthin’ but mean and cruel and you’ve gotta see that—”

“How do you know that I didn’t used to be like him- just like him?”

Now he’s getting angry too, all of his rage from earlier coming back in full force without his permission.

“Stop bein’ contrary jus’ for the sake of it! Jesus, Y/N, you clearly don’t love him, why’re you still married if—?”

You slam down the pen you’ve been tapping aggressively, whirling around to turn the full force of your scowl upon him.

“What makes you think I haven’t tried to end it?!”

Carelessly nudging the chair out of your path, you storm across the room to stand before him and jab your index finger into the center of his chest.

“I hate to break it to you, Eugene, but some women don’t get to change their minds! Some of us could beg until we’re blue in the face and we’ll still be forced to tie ourselves to men who we hate, just because our parents want to reap the benefits of such arrangements!”

Your lip has begun to quiver, eyes shining with unshed tears as you look up at him.

“Some of us don’t get to be happy, don’t get to marry the people we love!”

Guilt makes his stomach feel sour, especially when you bury your face in his shirtfront and bite back a whimper of heartbreak- your breath hot through the layers of clothing as you choke back more cries.

“Hey,” Gene whispers, the anger he’d been feeling sizzling out like a drenched flame. “‘M sorry, Y/N- please don’t cry….”

You allow him to encourage your face away from his chest, taking your face in his hands and brushing the hair out of your face.

You look so defeated, so goddamn hopeless that it almost makes him want to cry, too. 

Unable to bear the sight of you upset for one more moment, Gene interrupts you mid-sob to catch your lips in a reassuring kiss.

It’s rougher than he intended, his desperation to quell your sorrow causing him to pull you into him a bit too quickly and causing your noses to press together uncomfortably for a moment. To his surprise, you don’t make any move to pull away- your hands coming up to grip at the front of his shirt with an anxiousness he hadn’t seen from you in years.

It reminds him of the first time he touched you.

Your lips are slightly trembling as you lean into him to deepen the kiss, and when Gene’s other hand comes up to cup your face he can feel the stick of drying tears on his palm. Seeing how your fiance had possessively gripped your face in his hand earlier had Gene’s blood boiling earlier- the lack of reverence the man had for you painfully clear in the way he spoke to you, the way he seemed to grope at you as if your flesh solely existed for his pleasure.

As if Gene didn't have enough reasons to hate Peter Kelly, the son of a bitch didn’t even appreciate the gift Gene knew you to be.

You were better than any of them, and he was sure that if he were to ask anyone else in Easy they would say the same. And, if the tension between Peter and the rest of the men were anything to go by, the general consensus was that the man didn’t deserve you. How he’d gotten you in the first place was a marvel that Gene couldn’t even begin to fathom.

Right now, all he knew was you, you, you.  

Your hands fisted in his hair offered the most comforting sting of passion, and Gene would be lying if he said that having you so fervent for him didn’t drive him to the brink of insanity. Heightened emotion was something the both of you seemed to have lost throughout this god-awful war, something you’d both had to relinquish in order to survive. 

Any time you showed these sparks of life, Gene felt a warmth in his chest that envied the most golden sunshine.

It reminded him that you were alive and he was alive and there was still a chance for something good to happen after all of this.

All of his thoughts return to you, feeling guilty for reflecting in a moment that demanded- no, deserved all of his attention and gratitude. He could admire you privately after you fell asleep, in his arms.

Right now, he needed to remind you that you were something worthy of worship.  

You whimper against his mouth when he slides his hands up the planes of your back beneath your sweater, breaking away from your lips momentarily to pull the sweater over your head and toss it to the floor. 

“I need you,” you’re whispering, your hands coming to tear at the buttons of his jacket as if it is personally offending you. “I’m so sorry, but I do….Please, Gene! I fucking need you—!”

Gene is quick to shush you, quickly helping you finish divesting him of his jacket so he can swallow your apologies in another toe-curling kiss. Growing up, he’d been taught that marriage was a life-long commitment, that anyone who broke that promise was ungodly or impure.

Of course, he’d also naively believed that people only got married because they were deeply and wholly in love with one another. It wasn’t until he had met you in Toccoa that he’d realized that love sometimes had nothing to do with it, that those sort of things weren't necessarily as clean-cut as he’d been led to believe.

Taking your face in his hands again, he tilts your face up so he can kiss at the warm skin beneath your jaw, liking the way your moan vibrates in your throat as he walks you back to the table you’d been working at and presses your backside against it.  The sound of your open-mouthed panting had him painfully hard already- it’s almost embarrassing how little you have to do to get him like this.

He hadn’t even realized one of your hands had been working at the fastening of his pants until you’ve begun to scratch your nails softly down the skin of his lower stomach, and when his hips jump in surprise he can feel your breath hitch in your throat with heady amusement. When you do it again, he can hear the smile in your exhale.

“Such a perfect cock,” you nearly coo, your touch light as your fingertips brush over the head of him. “Can’t believe how perfect you are….”

You get like this sometimes when you get turned on, Gene has come to learn.- all lust-drunk and babbly as your words switch from thoughtful to stream of consciousness. It’s endearing, so wildly endearing that Gene would go as far as to call this habit cute. 

Cute was the only term you ever showed resistance to, even in jest. Your reaction to the word was so viscerally negative that it had even surprised him- the person who you had frequently insisted knew you the best.

After meeting your fiance and his degrading attempts at ‘praise’, Gene was now able to understand why. 

Your hand was stroking him in earnest now, having used his precum to coat your hand so your movements were smooth and confident. Despite the fact that he’d managed to get your trousers undone and loose around your thighs, Gene hadn’t been able to actually do anything else other than clutch at your hips and gasp into your neck as you rhythmically ruined him.

Normally, this is as far as you two would get- one of you getting the other off with your hands (and sometimes mouths) before someone or something would interrupt the other’s attempt at reciprocation and you’d both have to dive back into your duties to the Company. It was deeply unsatisfying- particularly for Gene because he wasn’t afraid to admit that making you cum wasn’t one of his favorite things to do. Each and every time he didn’t get to return the favor made him feel terribly guilty- like he had somehow exploited your feelings for him.

It made him feel sick. It didn’t matter how many times you insisted that you didn't see it that way, he always was left feeling as if he’d been inexcusably selfish. 

He hated it.

But tonight was different. For once, the two of you weren’t the only medics available for the dozens of men who seemed to have a near-constant stream of injuries and festering wounds. The Army was there with their fourteen medics and nurses and the majority of Easy company had gone to visit their camp in order to mooch some of their beer and US-funded entertainment.

No one would be interrupting his time with you tonight. 

Not even your fiance, who was no doubt dishonoring his vows of fidelity right now.

It didn’t have to stop. He didn’t want it to stop.

“Wait, Minette,” Gene chokes out, reaching down to stop your sinfully-sweet touch before he lost himself in it. “Jus’ wait a second…..”

You make a sound of disappointment in your throat, and when he pulls back enough to look at you he can see a small pout on your lips- as if he’s deprived you of something. The sight makes him feel lightheaded, the implications almost enough to….

Focus, focus.

“You were so close,” your voice holds an undertone of frustration, your other hand attempting to sneak down and finish what the other had started. When he takes that wrist as well, your eyebrows furrow almost comically. “What are you doing, Eugene—?”

You cut yourself off when he suddenly drops to his knees, hands hooking in the waist of your pants and underwear as he does so and shucking them down to your ankles. Your eyes are wide now, cheeks flushed and eyebrows high in surprise.

Keeping his gaze on you, he leans forward enough to press a kiss to your freshly bared thigh. By the time he moves to give the other the same treatment, he can see that your eyes are becoming soft once more.

“I wanna take your boots off,” Gene says as evenly as he can, electricity crackling in his veins at the smell of you. “Can I do that, Y/N?”

At your hurried nod, Gene kisses a ‘good girl’ to your skin quickly before bowing his head to unlace your boots with shaking fingers. He’s thankful for the time it takes him to do so- it gives him the opportunity to get his thoughts together and regain some semblance of control over himself.

Maybe one day he could be impulsive when it came to you, when neither of you had the threat of death hanging over your heads like a heavy cloud.

But now, with each moment commonly understood as having the potential to be your last, Gene couldn’t afford to leave you as anything other than satisfied…..worshipped.

By the time he has your boots removed and one of your legs freed from your trousers, he wants nothing more than to make you come apart beneath him. Because of him.

Looking back up at you, he can see that you’ve unbuttoned your shirt and thrown it open so he can see your nipples harden beneath your once white t-shirt- the weather was far too cold to consider undressing to complete nudity. Your mouth is pink and swollen, shiny from your tongue having recently darted out to wet them.

For a moment, Gene is stuck- too awed by your beauty to risk moving and missing a moment of it. Your heated whisper of his name is the only thing that shakes him free, and he can’t help but lean into your touch when you card a hand through his hair again.

Bringing his rifle-roughened hands to your knees, he purposefully slides them up your thighs until he can rub his thumbs over your hip bones. When he presses on them lightly, you follow his touch and perch yourself on the edge of the table with a quiet curse. The action parts your lower lips slightly, a movement he is quick to chase with his mouth. 

He wastes no time shouldering his way between your thighs, using his hands to guide them over his shoulders as he starts to lick gently at the seam of your sex.

“Fuck,” you whimper, your other hand coming down to scratch lightly at his scalp. “Fuck, Eugene….you don’t have to—ohh!”

Your unnecessary reassurance is lost in a sigh of arousal the moment his thumbs open you up more for him so he can circle the tip of his tongue around your clit before laving it more purposefully. You always tried to reassure him that using his mouth on you wasn’t necessary, clearly not accustomed to having a partner who enjoyed doing so.

Not that Gene was an expert, not by any means.

But, between having mapped out your sex with his fingers and the limited experience he’d had before the war paired with his- er, considerable knowledge of the human anatomy- he knew enough to take out most of the guesswork.

He hasn’t had many opportunities to go down on you- three on the boat ride to England, five times during your time in Alderbourne, twice since dropping into Normandy. You’d dropped to your knees for him far more than that, and now that he had more perspective on what your relationship with Peter had probably entailed Gene was determined to make up for each and every indulgence you’d offered him.

The tremor of your thighs tells him that you’re getting close, and he can tell by the way the muscles of your stomach clench beneath his greedy palm that you’re starting to have a hard time keeping yourself up as you watched him devour you. He hadn’t realized how vigorously he’d been attending to you, too lost in your taste and smell to hear the interspersing chant of his name being showered upon him as praise spilled from your lips once more.

With a groan, brings you to orgasm, refusing to cease his suckling despite the blooming ache in his jaw. It isn’t until your foot raises to press at his shoulder that he allows you to push him away, and he can tell that he’s exhausted you by the way you fall back and writhe while your release works itself through your bloodstream.

“Oh my God, Gene,” you keep repeating, chest jumping with adrenaline. “Why are you….how are you so good?”

He chuckles at that, his cheeks darkening at the praise. Gene watches as your eyes skate down his body to look at his cock, swallowing audibly before looking into his eyes once more. Before he can assure you that he understands if you don’t want to keep going, you carefully sit up and look up at him bashfully, biting the inside of your lower lip and bringing your hand to his cheek.

The look you’re giving him starts to make him nervous. He’s about to ask you what’s wrong when you clear your throat and tell him.

“I...I don’t know if I’m good at it.”

Gene frowns, searching your face for clarification as to what you’re trying to say.

“What’re you mean, ma cherie? What’s got you so worried?”

Your shoulders nearly slump as you sigh, giving him a weak smile as you clear your throat once more. 

“At sex, Gene. I’m worried—I don’t know how to make it good for you...”

With a shake of his head, he brings his crooked index finger under your chin to stop you from hanging your head in embarrassment. You look so lost right now it breaks his heart.

“Minette, you are the best thing to ever happen to me.”

When you open your mouth to rebuke his statement he’s quick to kiss you, using his free hand to bring yours from his cheek to press against the middle of his chest. It takes you a moment, but you do kiss him back, inhaling sharply as he nips carefully at your bottom lip.

Pulling back, Gene traces his thumb over your lips and gives you a soft smile.

“Never worry about me, ‘cause there isn’t a damn thing you could do that wouldn’t make it ‘good for me’.”

You narrow your eyes at that. “I doubt that’s true—”

Gene snorts and shakes his head admonishingly. “Doubt all you want, darlin’. Don’t make any of what I said change one bit.”

You look at him for a bit, eyes softening again and your hand smoothing down his chest with a hum. He thinks you’re going to require further reassurance until he watches as you purposefully part your mouth enough for his thumb to slip between your lips. The sight of you watching him paired with the drag of your tongue along the pad of his finger goes straight to his cock, reminding him of just how hard he’s become.

When you release him with a gentle nip to his fingertip, Gene stares at you in disbelief.

“Jésus Christ, cherie,” he can’t help but murmur. “Vous ne jouez pas juste…”

You tilt your head slightly, clearly aware of what he’s said but seeming to understand the gist of it.

“Show me what you like,” you whisper, scooting your hips to the very edge of the table and brushing your lips against his. “I’ve wanted you for so long….”

Gene kisses you as he slips inside of you, your gasp of pleasure sweet on his tongue. Unprompted, you bring your legs up to find some purchase around his hips and squeak as you take all of him in at once.

Bon Dieu, tu te sens comme le paradis….

You are clutching at him, your hands dancing for the best place to grip him before settling on one arm hooking around his neck and your other hand bracing at his left bicep. It’s an awkward position- probably because neither of you had ever tried to fuck on a table before- so Gene tries to get past the near blinding pressure building in his loins and wraps one of his arms around your hips to slightly adjust the bend in your spine.

“Shit, I’m sorry—!” you being to apologize before he cuts you off.

“Non, non, non, non Minette….just let me try and—”

You both cry out as he suddenly ruts deep, your nails digging into his flesh through his shirts you gape up at him in surprise.

“Oh, oh!”

“‘S that okay?” he grits out, resisting every fiber in his body that is begging for him to piston his hips and just fuck you already. You nod quickly, rolling your hips experimentally and kissing him quickly when he keens before he can stop himself. Gene grits his teeth at the sweetness you’re showing him. You’re just so good. “I’ll stop if it’s—”

“More than okay….do that again- please don’t stop!”

There’s something so…. overwhelming about the way you’re looking at him, with your eyes wide and lips parted. The whimper that comes from the back of your throat at his next thrust combined with your bewildered expression makes you appear so beautifully innocent that Gene momentarily forgets how to breathe. Maybe innocent is the wrong word. 

Honest. Yes, that was it.

It was your honesty that was overwhelming him, the lack of theater in your reactions to him and his touch so genuine and open that he almost didn’t know what to do with himself. Having you- the most glorious creature he’d ever met, would ever meet- gaze at him as if he’s hung the stars in the sky was just so bewitching and unexpected, particularly because of how highly he regarded you.

Your eyes have a glossy look to them, almost as if you were drunk. Rather than the babble he’d anticipated hearing from you, you’ve gone almost silent aside from the sighs and gasps of pleasure that accompany each piston of his hips into your tight velvet heat. Head lolled back, you watch him from under heavy lids while meeting his thrusts with careful pitches of your own, your eyelashes fluttering in response to his punched-out breath washing over your face.

If he didn’t know any better, Gene would say that you had undersold your experience on purpose. You had to know what you were doing to him.

How devastatingly close you were to unmanning him.

“Is it good, Ma Chatounette?” he can hear himself ask, his head already swimming with the initial signs of orgasm. “Am I making you feel good?”

You nod shallowly, mouth opening to reply but no sound coming out. The hand you’ve braced on his arm now has started to claw, and he can feel you tighten around him. 

You’re close, too.

“Please,” you nearly weep, your hips starting to rut against him. “Please please please please—!”

“D'accord,”’ he nods, taking your words as permission to allow his body to chase that fire that’s been burning him alive for quite some time now. “Je te donnerai ce dont tu as besoin, chérie. Je vais le rendre meilleur….”

Gene moans as you allow him to put a hand on your shoulder and press you back so you’re laying back on the table, your back arching sinfully as you mewl for him. Your legs tighten around his waist, and he feels his jaw go slack at the sight of your rolling hips coming to meet him thrust for thrust. You’ve begun to chant his name again, the sheen of sweat on your skin making you look like some carnal divinity sent to him for the sole purpose of ruining him.

And who was he to deny an angel?

Your arms wrap around him as he hunches over to brace his elbows by your shoulders, pressing your hot cheek against his - nibbling at his earlobe as his rhythm becomes punishing.

“Ma ruine, mon ange, je ne veux jamais être sans toi—”

“Come for me- please, please, I’ve never felt so good—”

It’s the catch of his pelvis against your clit that snaps both of you into oblivion, Gene’s vision going white as he clutches at whatever parts of you he can get his hands on, choking on his own breath as the bite of your fingernails adds the perfect amount of pain to his release. He’s aware of you crying out in release, but it’s swirled into the sound of blood racing in his ears as your tightening walls milk him for all he’s worth.

As his vision returns to him, he laboriously removes his head from the curve of your shoulder to look at you, his heart freezing midbeat when he sees tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Y/N?”

You’re shaking your head, hands finding his cheeks to bring his mouth to yours so you can kiss him syrupy-slow, the action throwing him for a loop.

“I’m happy,” you insist between kisses. “It was so good…. I-I don’t know why I’m crying, I’m sorry—”

Gene calms instantly, kissing you back and sighing into your mouth.

He understood what you were trying to say, knew exactly what you were experiencing. It made him stupidly happy that he wasn’t the only one overwhelmed by this….connection you two had.

He’d never had a lover who had reciprocated his feelings so fully. Then again, he’d never felt this with anyone else before, either.

“Don’t be sorry, Minette….I feel it, too.”

It takes the two of you a while, but you do eventually manage to move to the small mattress in the corner of the room, tangling yourselves together beneath the moderate warmth of the blankets and coats you’d scavenged earlier while avoiding Peter.

You must’ve thought he was asleep, because he has a feeling you wouldn’t have dared to say the words aloud.

“I love you,” you whispered against his shoulder in the darkness. “However terrible that makes me, I’m in love with you Eugene Roe.”

Gene is thankful for the pitch-black surrounding you. That way, he can allow himself to smile without fear of you seeing it.

Je suis amoureux de toi depuis des années, (Y/N).  J'ai hâte de te le dire un jour.

But for now, this was enough.

~ ~ ~

(*hides under covers for the rest of the day* OK THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME THIS HAS BEEN MY FIC DO WITH IT WHAT YOU WILL)

Taglist: @mrseasycompany​ @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite​ @happyveday​ @sunsetmando​ @ricksmorty​ @liebgotttme​

[fanficimagery]

Coming Out

Imagine being pressured to go on a date and after not being listened to you blurt out the one secret you've kept to yourself for years.

Words: 3.7K Relationships: Gen Fic (General - No romantic ships) Author's Note: After a brief talk with @ausllyspercabeth​ this is what I came up with. I hope you like it even though it's not exactly what you were looking for. Also I'm not sure this is trigger worthy, but just in case I thought you should know this is a "coming out" story.

For as long as you can remember, you knew you weren't the same as all the other girls your age. When the time came that all the little girls started to realize the boys didn't have cooties, you didn't understand what the big deal was. To you, boys were still boys and you didn't see anything giggle worthy about them.

But what really made you realize that you didn't like boys was when you were at a birthday party and got locked in the room with a boy named Alex. Everyone had giggled outside the door, explaining that you wouldn't be let outside unless you had kissed. And to prove that you did kiss, there was a polaroid camera that you had to take a selfie with while kissing and then slide it underneath the door in order to be let out. You weren't really nervous, instead you were just annoyed, but Alex looked like he was ready to break a window and leave through it. So you had sighed, smoothed out your expression, and kindly told him that you should just get it over with so you can rejoin the party. Reluctantly he agreed as you took hold of the camera in hand properly, and then hesitantly pressed your lips to his. Quickly you snapped the picture, and then you and Alex jerked apart.

The two of you being disgusted by kissing each other forged a friendship from that day forward.

With Alex came his two best friends Reggie and Luke, and the two boys were quick to accept you when you didn't make fun of them for daydreaming about starting a band one day. Instead you encouraged them and eventually introduced them to your mom who they were immediately infatuated with because of her studio out in the garage. And then as the years slowly passed, it was your mother and father who opened their home to your friends when they started to clash with their own parents because of them starting a band.

Eventually, as the years pass, your little sister Julie joins the hangouts when Luke realizes your sister has an amazing set of pipes on her, and with Julie comes Flynn. There's never a quiet day in the Molina household and your parents couldn't be any happier.

But then your mom's health takes a dive and her diagnosis isn't good. Not at all.

The boys are there for you and your family through your mom going through treatments, and then it feels like they're constantly there when the treatments don't work for your mom anymore. They had tried to keep their distance when funeral arrangements started being made, but after your dad asked where the boys had disappeared off to, they made it their mission to be at your house everyday they could.

Life would never be the same in the Molina household, but the boys did their hardest to make sure not a single Molina lost themselves to their grief.

And then it's right before the start of your senior year of high school that your life unravels once more.

It's tradition that the underclassmen plan every big party to make sure the seniors have a great year, and they've been planning a back-to-school bonfire on the beach. Everyone, including you, is excited for it.

You and Alex are going through your closet and drawers, trying to find the perfect outfit for the bonfire since you had helped him the previous day while out shopping. He's going through your bathing suits when Julie walks in, Luke and Reggie on her heels. Julie and Reggie plop onto your bed, and Luke drops onto the lovesac with a groan.

"So guess what?" Julie excitedly says.

"What?"

"Guess who's been asking around about you and asking whether or not you're single?"

It takes a moment for her words to sink in and when they do, you freeze. You drop the pair of shorts you'd been looking at in order to look at your sister, frowning at her too excited expression. "Please don't play matchmaker."

"What? Y/N!" Your sister whines. "It's your senior year. You're supposed to have fun before you leave for college."

"Julie, no." You shake your head, chuckling softly.

"Come on, Y/N," Luke wheedles. "It's Joshua Parker, co-captain of the football team. You seriously need to get laid before we graduate."

Reggie laughs, turning over onto his stomach and batting his eyelashes at you. "According to the female population of Los Feliz High, he's a total catch. Give him a whirl. I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

You wrinkle your nose at your friends, mock gagging. "Pass. I just- no. Can we please drop the subject?"

"Y/N," Julie tries again, softer this time. "Can I ask you a serious question?"

Your heartbeat starts to skyrocket and you gulp. "What?"

"Why don't you date?" And whew! That was not the question you were expecting. "I've never seen you once go on a date."

You shrug and avert your gaze. "I've got better things to do than shoving my tongue down someone's throat or risking an STD."

There have been numerous times when Julie and Flynn tried to pull you into gushing about anyone you'd had a crush on or ranking the boys from your school by order of hotness. You didn't know how to exactly tell them you weren't into boys, so you always made excuses to get out of it. But now, you're feeling a little bit ambushed and you know this talk is not going to end well.

"But how do you know if you've never-"

"Julie!" You snap. "Enough."

Your sister blinks owlishly at you, and Luke and Reggie lose their smiles. The sudden quiet of your room makes you uncomfortable so you make up a quick excuse to leave.

Alex watches Y/N go with a frown before he's looking back at his stunned friends. "Maybe you guys should lay off Y/N. Not everyone is interested in dating."

Julie is the first to snap out of her stupor, shaking her head softly. "She's just nervous. That's the way I was before she encouraged me to take up Nick's offer to dinner and a movie."

Luke snorts. "And look how well that turned out."

"You know what? Shut up!" Julie chunks a pillow at Luke, but he merely laughs and swats it away.

Alex rolls his eyes at them, turning to go find Y/N. He's had a theory for months now as to why Y/N isn't boy crazy like every other girl he knows, but he's willing to wait and let her come out and say it herself.

Hours later, you leave the safety of the loft when your dad texts you to help set the table. Inside it's a full house, but only Alex glances at you. He offers you a faint smile and you squeeze his arm as you make your way past him to the cabinets. The table is quickly set and the food is brought to the table, and then everyone is sitting and holding hands for a quick prayer.

"Carlos, you're up," your dad says.

Everyone bows their head as Carlos starts. "Lord, we thank you for our good health and Reggie's amazing cooking skills. Amen."

"Amen," everyone repeats, chuckling as Reggie awws and ruffles Carlos' hair.

Dinner is a normal affair with the boys cracking jokes. But then when your dad asks about the plan for the upcoming bonfire, Julie starts explaining all that's going on while you sit there pushing around the corn on your plate.

"And then Joshua really wants Y/N to be his date for the night, but no," she drawls. "My dear older sister is apparently blind and refuses to go out with him."

You sigh and drop your fork. "This again? Really, Jules?"

"What?" She feigns innocence. "I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy," you deadpan.

"And have fun."

"Luke, Reggie, and Alex are fun."

She rolls her eyes. "With people who aren't like our brothers," she says. "Honestly, we thought you and Reggie had a thing going on-"

"What?!" He squawks.

"But then we saw you helping him get ready for a date with another girl and gave up on welcoming Reggie into the family."

You pinch the bridge of your nose, groaning softly. Ray glances between his daughters and the way the usually three teenage boys are averting their gazes. "Mija, maybe you should just leave your sister be. If she doesn't want to go on a date with Joshua, you shouldn't pressure her."

"Agreed!" You look at your dad with a grateful smile. "Thanks, dad."

This time Julie groans. "But I just don't get it." And your mood quickly sours. "You're beautiful and you can have any boy-"

"Because I don't like boys!" You yell. The dinner table falls deathly silent and your eyes instantly tear up. "I haven't liked boys since I realized I liked girls back in the seventh grade." Still not a word is uttered and your heart cracks just a little. Throwing your napkin down onto your plate, you scoff, "Are you happy now?", as you push your chair back and rush out the front door.

You've been sitting by the beach for about an hour now, sitting on a low brick wall and staring off into the ocean. You've had numerous texts and calls, but the only texts you replied to are your dad's where you told him you'd be back before curfew. But you should have known someone would look for you no matter what and are relieved to see the pink hoodie out of the corner of your eye. Alex.

"How'd you find me?"

"Tracking app," he says. "I've downloaded it on everyone's phones and hid it on the last page in the random folder no one looks through."

You huff quietly, shaking your head in amusement. "So how pissed is my dad? And how's Jules? I didn't mean to snap at her, but-"

"Hey, I get it," Alex says. He leans over, knocking your shoulder with his. "Keeping a secret like ours takes a toll. And then with Julie pressuring you, it's understandable you snapped."

"I just- I feel so bad," you mutter. Leaning against Alex, you lay your head on his shoulder and you feel him lay his head atop yours.

"Don't. Coming out, it's hard. I should know," he chuckles. "But what I don't understand is why you didn't tell me."

"You mean to tell me you didn't realize I was gay back when we had to kiss in seventh grade?" Alex snorts softly and you push off of him so you can look at him, grabbing one of his hands within your own. "I thought about telling you hundreds of times, but then you came out to your parents and their reaction terrified me. I was scared mom and dad would do the same to me."

"Are you joking? Ray and Rose loved you with their entire beings. Heck your dad still does. He'd never treat you any differently."

"No offense, but we all thought that about your parents too and look how that turned out."

He opens his mouth to retort, but snaps it shut and shrugs. "Fair point."

"And besides, we couldn't know for sure. You never really came out to my parents. We only told them you and your parents no longer saw eye to eye. Dad doesn't know you're gay."

"Also fair point," he sighs. "But if I'm being honest, I don't think Ray will be like my parents. If anything, he's probably more upset that you hid yourself for so long."

"God I hope you're right." The only sound you can hear are the waves lapping at the shore. "Can we just- can we chill here a little longer? I'm not ready to go back."

"Of course. But you're buying me a snack because we didn't finish dinner and I spent the last of my money on an Uber out here."

Snorting, you agree and slide off the wall with Alex's hand still encased in your own.

You and Alex walk to a nearby taco truck, and you buy him whatever he wants. You get yourself two tacos as well, plus two glass bottles of Coke and eat down by the water.

For a couple of hours the two of you walk along the beach and then head down to the pier. You listen to a few random people playing instruments in hopes of making a few dollars, and then right before ten at night you decide it's time to finally head home.

"So what do you'll think I'll be walking into?" You ask.

Alex shrugs. "I'm not sure, but whatever it is I'm sure you'll be fine."

As you drop into the seat behind the wheel, you shoot off a quick text to your dad to let him know you're on your way home. Then as you and Alex are buckling up, you get a reply from him. Quickly reading it, you summarize the text for your friend. "Dad said he wants to speak to us."

"U-Us?"

"Yep." You lock your phone and drop it into the cup holder.

"He knows. He so knows about me," Alex realizes.

You huff a laugh. "On the bright side, it looks like we're in this together."

Instead of blaring music like you normally would, you keep it quiet and talk nonsense to Alex to keep him from freaking out too bad. You're at your house in no time and Alex looks at you as if he's walking to his death.

"Keep it together, Mercer. Wasn't it you who was telling me earlier that my dad would be accepting?"

"Yeah." He nods before looking up at your house. "Yeah. It's going to be fine."

As you and Alex climb out of the car, you meet in front of it and you reach for his left hand with your right. He grabs it, interlocking your fingers, and lets you lead the way inside.

When you step inside your house, your dad is the only one there with the TV playing on low. You and Alex walk into the living room as your dad climbs to his feet, and the tears immediately flow when you see tears gathering in your dad's eyes.

"Mija." Ray's voice cracks as he spreads his arms open for a hug, and a sob escapes your throat as you release Alex's hand and close the distance between you and your dad. Your arms wrap tightly around his waist as you hide your face in his chest, and he shushes you while rocking you back and forth. "I love you no matter what. You do know that, right?"

With your throat tight with emotion, all you can do is nod.

"I'm so sorry you felt the need to hide yourself away. You are my flesh and blood, and I love you with all my heart whether you like boys or girls or neither."

"I-I'm sorry." You cry. "It's just- it's really scary saying it out loud and not knowing for sure how anyone will react."

"I know." You feel Ray's chest shudder with suppressed emotion. "And Alex, please don't be mad but the other boys told me what really happened with your parents. I'm so sorry, mijo. No parent should ever treat their child like something's wrong with them or be dismissed because of who they love."

"I-" Alex's voice cracks and you hear him clear his throat a moment later. "Thank you, Mr. Molina. You have no idea how good it is to hear you say that."

Ray chuckles a little wetly. "Get over here. You will always be welcomed here, mijo. I just want you to know that."

You feel Alex come up behind you, hugging your dad and squishing you between the both of them. You can't help the giggle that leaves your mouth and as you stand there hugging your dad it feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

"Can we get in on that?" You manage to turn your head towards the voice and smile at Carlos. "That looks really fun."

Ray and Alex loosen the hug, and open their arms just so, so Julie and Carlos can join in.

"I'm sorry," Julie mumbles. "If I had known-"

"But you didn't," you say. "And that's my fault, but please stop trying to hook me up with the guys you and Flynn think are fine."

Julie giggles and agrees.

"Does this mean then that when I'm older, me and you can check out girls together?"

You, Alex, and Julie all laugh at Carlos' earnest question as your dad groans. "Sure, Carlitos. I'll totally scope out the girls with you."

"Alright. Now that we've talked," your dad says, "you're needed outside. Please keep your sister and Luke apart."

Julie groans as you snort. "What?"

"Reggie and Luke are out in the studio," Julie explains. "We're having a sleepover."

"Oh. Okay," you say.

As your dad ushers Carlos away with promises that he can stay up to midnight playing his games, you and Alex follow Julie out the back door. You walk down the curving concrete stairs and enter the studio, grinning at the sight of Reggie and Luke on the pullout couch and the lovesac they apparently stole from your room.

"How did you guys even get that down here?"

"It took us about thirty minutes and a fall down the stairs, but we made it," Luke says.

He's stretched out on the pullout couch and it's no surprise that Julie gravitates his way. You and Alex readily kick off your shoes, and Alex chooses to crawl his way in between your sister and Luke while you join Reggie on the lovesac.

Reggie's arm is stretched out, so you slide over to him and curl into his side. The two of you cuddle into one another and it takes a second for something Julie said earlier to come back to you. "So you guys really thought Reggie and I were creeping behind all your backs?"

Reggie laughs. "Why would any of you think that?"

"Are you really asking that right now?" Luke huffs. "Just look at the way the two of you are laying together."

You and Reggie laugh, knowing full well that being wrapped in one another would look pretty compromising. Eventually your laughter tapers off. "Reggie's a cutie, but he's not exactly my type. Honestly, all three of you boys are good looking but you just don't do it for me. Sorry."

Alex chuckles. "Ditto."

"So I know this is kind of rude to ask, but we're family and I'm super curious," Luke says. Immediately Alex and Julie groan. "Did you guys just like know you were gay or did you kiss the opposite sex and realize then that you didn't it?"

Alex remains quiet, so you decide to go first. "I knew that I liked girls before I ever kissed a boy."

"Same. I knew I liked boys before I kissed a girl."

"Bro, no way!" Luke exclaims. "Who'd you kiss?"

"Wait," Julie frowns, "if you knew you were gay beforehand, then why kiss the opposite sex?"

"Because we were locked in a room," you say.

"And they wouldn't let us out unless we kissed and took a polaroid of said kiss as proof," Alex finishes.

There's a moment of silence as your words sink in, and then- "No way!" Reggie laughs. "You and Alex kissed?!"

You can't help but laugh along with him. "We did."

Alex smiles. "I still have the polaroid somewhere in my closet. I took it back so no one could tease us with it."

"You need to find it so I can see it," you muse. "God it's been forever since that happened."

"And to think if it never had happened, we'd probably have never spoken."

Everyone falls silent as they think about Alex's words, but then you break the silence to say, "I'm really glad you were my first and only boy kiss."

"Same. I'm glad you were my only girl kiss as well."

"Aw you guys," Luke coos. "Y/N and Reg, get your butts over here and cuddle us."

You and Reggie rock and roll yourselves out of the lovesac, you letting Reggie smother your sister while you crawl over Luke and Alex. Luke does his best to tuck you under his chin and you laugh briefly before your body starts to relax.

Sighing softly, you say, "I love you guys. Thank you for being so chill about everything."

"We love you too," Luke muses.

As the talking starts to taper off and you feel yourself dozing off, you say, "I'm really sorry I didn't tell you guys sooner. It's just- I didn't know how-"

"Don't apologize," you sister tells you. "I can't imagine the guts it took to come out and I'm sorry I kind of forced your hand, but we know now and that's all that matters. You and Alex are both loved, and you'll always have a home with us no matter what."

Someone sniffles and then Alex says, "Can someone just hug me?"

You giggle and roll off of Luke, hugging Alex and inadvertently Reggie as well since he had the same idea as you.

"Hey, so if you guys are out," Reggie starts, "does this mean we can finally go to one of those Pride parades?"

Alex snorts. "Reg, we will go to Pride if Luke lets the girls put makeup on him."

"Hey I'm so down," Luke says. "I want rainbow eyeshadow."

"Yeah. Me too!" Reggie agrees.

Julie giggles. "Reg, if we go to Pride we're dressing you up as a fairy."

"Ohh yes!" You lift your head just high enough to nod at your sister. "Reggie's complexion is best to give him an ethereal look with makeup and a pair of fairy wings that we have left over from Halloween. He'd have to be shirtless though, so.."

"Aw man, I'm gonna have to do a lot of sit-ups, aren't I?"

"Yep. But don't worry," you muse. "It'll be well worth it."

"Hey, Luke," Reggie then says. "Ten bucks say I pull more numbers than you."

"You're on, Peters."

As Luke and Reggie bicker about who can pull the most guys, you snuggle into Alex and slowly drift off to sleep. You should have known from the start that you'd be accepted by everyone and you can't believe you wasted so much of your life hiding. But now that everyone who matters knows, you're excited to finally be yourself.

[chewiedon]

HOME | SHINAZUGAWA S.

im still trying to find a consistent layout, I’m still working on requests from wattpad and Tumblr, but there's good shit on the way so stay tuned >:) ALSO TYSM FOR ALL THE SUPPORT!!

request: “(y/n) is really close to sanemi, and during a hashira get together he gets drunk and in a fight with giyuu. (y/n) breaks up the fight and calms sanemi down, shinobu teases her the next morning.”

“Waa! Drinks for everyone, it’s all on me!” The sound hashira’s voice was booming throughout the bar, following a very loud laugh and cheering from his intoxicated coworkers.

“My! Do you even have enough money, Uzui?” A sweet voice piped up once the clamoring had died down, an empty smile on her face.

“Obviously I do, Kocho darling you doubt me too much!” The large man had insisted, his smile turning into a playful scowl as he slapped her on the back.

She let off a small “Oof,” before giving up.

Another sweet voice had been heard, “Speaking of darling, where is (Y/N)? I was so sure she’d be here, she was so excited about this get together too,” She put a finger to her chin in some kind of ponder.

“What the fuck do you mean (Y/N) isn’t here? Speak the fuck up Kanroji!” A much rougher voice interrupted the atmosphere, the Wind Hashira wore a viscous scowl across his face. His aggression seemed to have risen with the amount of alcohol in his body.

“I saw her when we got here, but I don’t think I’ve seen her since,” The water hashira, Giyuu had commented, making Sanemi’s blood boil even more.

“The fuck you watching (Y/N) for? She can take care of herself just damn fine without your fucking help, you’re useless be your damn self anyways!” His body looked as if he was on fire, the unnecessary aggression only seemed to rise more and more.

With a click of his tongue, Sanemi sat back down and continued to sip the beverage that he had as the ruckus continued around him. (Y/N) was the only person in the entire Demon Slayer Corps, maybe the population of humanity itself he trusted. She was a beauty no doubt, but that wasn’t what captured the hothead’s eyes. It might’ve been her soft voice or the way her hands would run through his hair, but he couldn’t seem to get enough of the girl. The only thing that got in the way of him embracing those feelings was his wall of pride, and his past experiences with other people. He couldn’t rely on anybody, he refused to rely on (Y/N) too, but he promised to enjoy her company as long as he could. Until God took her away from him. An entire hour passed, and things began to get quieter. And a certain man’s fuse only became shorter and shorter.

Chatter was around the table, but one particular sentence sent him ablaze, “Hey, you don’t think some nasty people got a hold of (Y/N), right? That would be really bad,” A snap could almost be heard from the way Sanemi’s fist almost crushed the lip of the low table they sat at.

“Keep her name of your filthy fucking mouths! Who do you guys think you are, talking about her like she’s some kind of object?!” He didn’t stand up, but he slammed his hand on to the table, voice booming throughout the entire place. The fact that Giyuu piped up next didn’t calm his intense rage.

“Nobody said she was an object, we just hoped she didn’t have a bad run in with anybody.” He said, brows furrowed at the aggression that was directed towards him.

A smirk contorted on to Sanemi’s face, his cheeks glowing with red. “You seem real confident today, Tomioka. Are you trying to start something?” His words were slurred, but not too much it wasn’t able to understand.

Giyuu’s patience and tolerance was running short, but he managed to control his anger, “Nobody wants to fight you, small dogs shouldn’t yap so loud.”

That last comment completely changed the table, literally. Giyuu’s face was smashed into the wooden low table by Sanemi, leaving the table's center in bits and pieces. Everyone around them were dead silent, nobody even bothered lifting a finger to say anything.

“The fuck did you say? Say it again, I dare you,” Sanemi’s ego was through the sky.

Giyuu raised himself from where his face was busted into the table, a trail of blood coming out of his nose. He stood up, positioning himself on his shaky legs.

“I said,” He started, “Small dogs shouldn’t yap so loud.”

From a logical standpoint, Giyuu’s comment didn’t make any sense. Sanemi was one of the tallest people in the room, taller than Giyuu. However, both of these men were emotional and intoxicated as shit. So the things they say don’t make sense, and they don’t have to. Sanemi’s fist was thrown into the air, but it didn’t even reach the man he wanted to hit. Giyuu took the opportunity to strike the hothead right in the stomach, making him stagger backwards while his insides began to tremble. A drunken crowd around them cheered and egged the two on.

“What the hell is going on?” A feminine voice sounded throughout the room, both men ignored it. The light chatter that filled the room seemed to outrule her voice.

Uzui tensed up, “Oh, (Y/N) where have you been-”

“Shut your trap,” Her voice was harsh, which was something rare.

Sanemi stood up quick, his stun pushed aside as he made way to tackle Giyuu entirely. His blood boiled with rage, but his entire body seemed to be stopped midair as soon as a certain girl came into view. He tripped over himself entirely, his nose at (Y/N)’s feet.

“(Y/N)!” Giyuu exclaimed, Sanemi was left completely speechless as he peered up at her form.

She put her hands on her hips while turning towards the ravenette with fierce ice behind her gaze, “You out of all people, were the least person I’d expect to act so childish. Last time I checked you weren’t a hormonal teenager, please act your age,” Her voice was chilling.

All of the chatter among the restaurant ceased completely, all eyes were on the trio. (Y/N)’s gaze then drifted to the man that laid at the bottom of her feet, Sanemi sat upwards while his face was flushed with embarrassment. He embarrassed himself in front of a whole crowd of people, not to mention he embarrassed himself in front of her. Sanemi did nothing but admire (Y/N), you could almost hear his pride swan diving off a cliff. She did nothing but gaze softly at the poor man and headed outside.

“Someone clean this shit up,” Her chilling voice froze the room up before she officially exited.

The sound of the front door slamming made everyone flinch, before most of the bystanders started continuing as they usually did. The waitresses had helped the hashira’s cleaned, while Sanemi remained in the same position on the floor. Should he try to defend himself, or should he let it be? He’s drunk, so that’s a reasonable excuse, right? The snow haired man managed on his feet, running outside with adrenaline coursing through his body while he was completely driven by impulse. And it all pulled to her. (Y/N). The only name that was going through his head, her figure was visible as it walked into the street.

“(Y/N)!” He yelled, but what was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to ‘redeem himself’ in front of the person he admired the most?

She let out a small hum, signalling that he had her attention. “Can we talk (Y/N)? Please,” Sanemi’s voice was higher than normal, as if it was cracked and hoarse.

Why was he so stressed in the first place? His head began to pound as his stomach twisted at all the sudden movement. The contents of his stomach spilled onto the street, soft grunts came from him as he vomited his lunch. He spent the next few moments hung over his knees, panting like hell. (Y/N) had put a hand on his back.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry if I seemed a little scary back there, I lost my cool,” As soon as their gazes had met, the same warm feeling flooded inside the hot head’s chest. His eyes felt glossy.

“Beautiful,” He muttered, reaching out to touch the girl’s cheek, “You’re so beautiful.”

It might’ve been that alcohol still flowing within his veins, but he’ll never forget the feeling he felt with her that night, that nostalgic feeling he hasn’t felt since his family died. The feeling of home.

The rest of that night was a blur, but (Y/N) had spent the next day at the Butterfly Estate, laughing at all the hashira’s who were cursed with nasty hangover’s. Shinobu almost joined in on the fun, making fun of Giyuu for getting in a fight despite him hardly remembering it.

“I got in a fight?” Giyuu said, pointing to himself in disbelief.

“Yes, and (Y/N) had to tame the Shinazugawa beast and save you, she’s the reason you don’t have a broken nose you know,” Shinobu said matter of factly.

“Why are you saying that as if I’m some fantasy heroine? All I did was shit talk him and lure Sanemi outside,” (Y/N) stated, her cheeks beginning to heat up at the mention of the occasion.

“Yeah, and what happened after that?” Shinobu asked, innocently teasing her.

“Nothing!”

[trulycertain]

small scandals

f!De Sardet/Vasco, 2.5k. One of the most disgustingly fluffy things I've written. Based on the thought that Constantin would totally have opinions on who you romance.

A carriage rattles along the cobbles outside, and she lies there, half-listening to it. The few mornings she can be in her own bed, she’s come to know it; it’s the ten o’clock grain shipment. Ordinarily, she’d already be in a meeting somewhere, or traipsing along a dirt road, perhaps with Kurt and Vasco at her back. But she had a morning free, and this… is not an ordinary morning. She’d been settling in with paperwork and then she’d heard the knock at her door and… well.

She should move. Probably. But her bed is so warm, and – unusually, but in a wonderful development – it contains Vasco.

This really was meant to be a brief assignation. And she was sure they were meant to be talking about… something. Potential routes for tomorrow, perhaps. She has no idea why they’re lying next to each other, words barely thought-out and… comfortable, somehow.

She says with a lazy half-grin, “’Important business with the legate’? Did Cécile actually believe you?” She’d close her eyes, but she likes looking at him too much to manage it for long. Softness suits him. And besides, the thought of him politely tipping his hat and lying to her housekeeper...

He tilts his head, consideringly. “She sent me upstairs.” But his voice is wry.

“Mm. She definitely knows.”

He sighs, that long-suffering thing she’s learned to like far too much, and says, “Try living on a ship.”

“Try living around nobles,” she counters, and laughs at his pained expression. “Exactly.”

He says, quietly, “They can’t all be that bad. Rumour is, there’s one that some Naut captain’s fond of.”

She says, “That legate’s always been an odd one.” But she presses her forehead to his, eyes sliding closed, and she feels his hand stroke through her hair.

The gentleness should surprise her – almost did, at first, coming from the frustrated, tattooed sailor who’d barked orders at his crew – but she realised soon into their acquaintance that he is gentle. Subtle as he tries to be, and much as he’d probably mutter something offhand and drily amused about it. That same sailor was worried for a cabin boy. And he was horrified at the Guard’s ghost camps, asked her to avoid bloodshed at every turn and stepped forward for his brother without a moment’s doubt. He tossed her antidotes in the middle of battle and held off beasts for her; he apologised for his early shortness, called her a good person without hesitation, argued to a Naut that the noble who’d caused him so much trouble was sea-born, and we always help one of our own. She'd dared to suspect, but still, that gentleness was far more than she’d ever have imagined, turned on her.

She’s half-dozing when she wakes up and says, startled, “Constantin." She reaches out of bed and gropes for her watch. "I’ve got a meeting in…” She flips it open, checking. “Ten minutes. Damn.”

A quiet, displeased noise from next to her, and Vasco mutters, “Can I at least get dressed before we have to think of your cousin?”

She pauses, looks back to him… and has some trouble looking away. “Don’t strain yourself on my account.”

He raises a brow, but there’s wryness lurking around the corners of his mouth.

She only smiles at him. She was aiming for lascivious, but it softens into something fonder before she can help it. She probably shouldn’t tell the truth quite so easily, what with being a diplomat, but around him it always slips out. Generally meetings aren’t such a trial, tired as she is - but generally she doesn’t have an unnecessarily handsome Naut stretched out in her bed, wild-haired and with the sunlight clinging to his skin.

She shifts across to kiss him, and for a golden moment, he responds in kind, a hand under her chin.

(She’s still not used to that. It was the sort of idle daydream she always told herself would never come to fruition, even if he was sarcastic in turn, even if he smiled at her and she wondered…)

Then he pulls away. “You should go,” he says. She suspects he's trying for gently chiding, but it lands in amused instead.

“I won’t be long,” she says, and the words come out too hopeful.

It’s not that she expects him to stay like some sort of bedwarmer, she just…

Well, she thinks, considering him again, she wouldn’t entirely mind.

But she knows he’s not made to be idle. Neither is she, normally; it was one of the reasons they understood each other, and one of the things she could tell surprised him at first, when he was used to the thoughtlessness of nobility. And she hadn’t quite meant to lose track of time, she’d just…

“I’ll meet you at the docks,” he says. “I need to check in on a shipment. The Guard are lying in the ledgers again.” He adds, in a mutter, “Not that that’s unusual.”

She nods. “Of course.” And then she drags herself away to hunt for her clothing.

She can feel him watching her; it prickles up her spine, a certain warmth that’s growing familiar. She should probably be more self-conscious. She was often teased about her lack of delicacy, growing up in court. She’s about six feet of lankiness and leg – excellent for her reach with a rapier, but not ideal for a court lady. Also, since she’s come here, new scars, and lean muscle that some would say makes her look like a labourer. But he’s called her beautiful more than once, kissing the word breathlessly into her skin, and somehow, she believes him. She certainly believes the way his eyes linger. She looks over her shoulder and his gaze meets hers, without a hint of shame. Then he rolls out of her bed, too.

She’s buttoning her doublet when she feels his hand against hers. She looks down, and takes her hat from him with a nod of thanks. He half-smiles at her, with the ruefulness that comes from having to snatch these moments while they can, in between governors and dantrigs and narrowly-averted civil wars. She places it on her head, idly watching him re-tie his hair and start to re-don the mantle of the quiet, hawk-eyed shadow at her back.

She tries not to be embarrassed. Neither of them is entirely used to this, not yet. They’ve only managed perhaps three occasions where the world has relented enough to give them any time together; they’ve only had one night sleeping in the same bed. And her previous dalliances were at court, not with a friend who knows her, who looks at her like… that. Not with a man who read her poetry and actually seemed to mean it.

She can’t help but step forwards, pretending to pull up the collar of his coat, adjusting a buckle. Absolutely because they’re trying for some measure of discretion, and not because she’d like to touch him again, for as long as she can.

He knows, of course. He’s spent long enough watching her back, and he’s always been good with people - differently from the way she is, but good all the same. When she looks up from her work, his eyes are warm and a little amused on hers.

And then he’s pulling her in, gently but inexorably, and kissing her. It’s a slow, lingering thing that makes them both breathless, and he holds her there, a gloved hand smoothing down her lapel. Suddenly she suspects she isn’t the only one having trouble tearing herself away.

When they part, he stares at her for a moment, dark-eyed - then reaches up and swiftly adjusts her hat where it’s been knocked askew. She can’t help grinning stupidly at him.

And then he takes his own tricorne from her bedside table and pulls it on, and they leave the house with the ease of their usual missions. She pretends not to have a spring in her step. And she certainly doesn’t look over her shoulder when they part in the square.

-

Constantin is, for once, not holding court. She finds him in his office, he greets her - as usual - as if she’s just come back after being thought dead at sea, and they make an itinerary of which higher-ups she’ll have to meet in Hikmet.

All in all, entirely normal, until she says, standing, “Well, I ought to be off. I’ll take Aphra and Vasco; they might be useful.”

And Constantin smiles at her and says, “Of course. Take care of yourself! And give my regards to your Naut.’”

She freezes mid-way through reaching for her hat.

Their eyes meet. She carefully doesn't say anything.

Then she breaks. “He’s not my - “

He’s lazing in his chair, with the smugness of victory. In that obnoxiously cheerful I know something you don’t way, the one that makes her fingers itch to push him out of a tree.

She raises an eyebrow. “Should I ask how you know?”

“Oh, no,” he waves a hand, “you were both being very discreet. You remember the time I asked you if you wanted to go out drinking?”

She sits down, slowly, and tries not to feel like a mouse lowering itself into a trap. She says, with gentle understatement, “There were a few.”

“Yes, well. The most recent one. The one where you refused, because you had terribly important business to attend to.” He looks like some sort of painting of innocence, and that’s how she knows she’s damned to never, ever live this down. “You might have left his poisons belt on the bannister.”

She’s too court-trained to blush, but she feels heat trying to crawl into her face all the same. “There’s more than one poisons belt in New Serene.”

“Only a few with a Naut’s compass carved into them. And what were you talking about a few weeks ago? Your painstaking modifications…”

She tries to regain her equilibrium. “I… We’re Merchants. We give gifts.”

“I know, cousin, and I’m very grateful for my last two hats. The feather was a lovely touch.” He leans his chin on his hand. “But the last time I saw you, you were inexplicably cheerful. Normally I like watching all the longing gazes, while he stares nobly elsewhere or prepares your maps. It’s the best entertainment I’ve had in years. Only, all those had stopped, and suddenly you were studiously trying not to look at him.” He tilts his head, and grins like the cat that’s caught the canary. “And you’re blushing. Adorable.”

“Constantin...” She attempts to hide from the onslaught, but there really isn’t anywhere to go.

“I only wanted to offer my congratulations.” He stands, as if propelled from his chair by the force of his own smugness. “My father would kill you, of course. It’s rather marvellous, really. You were always the one he never had to worry about. I was so certain you’d end up single, or with one of those dreadfully dull nobles from a court somewhere.” He pauses like he’s just remembered she’s there. “Nice, of course, and as long as you were happy – But to think, a Naut! Usually I’m the resident disappointment. Was it the tattoos? They are so very fascinating...” And then he must catch sight of her face, because that pulls him to a stop. “I’m sorry. I’ve got ahead of myself.” And he sits, just a little deflated.

“He’s not some scandal,” she says, quietly. “He’s my – He’s Vasco.”

He’s sober, now, watching her softly. “I know. And I really am pleased for you both.” He looks back to his own papers. “You may have to be subtle, to prevent accusations of favouritism for the Nauts, but… you certainly don’t have to hide it from me. I’ve seen how he looks at you. He’s almost worthy of you.”

She squints at that. “How does he look at me?”

“I thought you’d have noticed! That said, he is rather subtle, isn’t he?” He grins at her. “Hmm… Like a man who’s been hit about the head with something heavy. That sort of not-quite-dazed look. He looks” – and he considers the bookshelves, mouth a theatrical moue of contemplation – “like a man startled by his own luck. I’ve seen enough winners at cards. Only the odd moment, of course, and then he wipes it away and pretends to be very solemn and businesslike.”

She stares, warming at the thought despite herself. “I… he does?”

“He's not bad. I’m sure anyone else wouldn’t catch it. But we, dear cousin, were raised at court.” He looks at her - incredulous, delighted. “And you call yourself a diplomat!”

“I was… busy.”

“Yes. Throwing him your own adoring looks.”

“Being a diplomatic envoy.” She’s quite sure her shade of purple is clashing violently with her coat.

He ostentatiously checks his nails. “Do Nauts marry, perchance?”

“So help me, Constantin, I will leave your court and never come back - “

And then he’s laughing, rich and uninhibited, and it rings like a bell off the high ceiling. It’s been too long since she’s heard that.

-

“Constantin knows,” she announces, when they’re in a camp a quarter of the way to Hikmet, and Aphra’s left to answer a call of nature. “And he’s laughing at us both.”

Vasco’s brows raise, and then he says, flatly, “I’m not surprised. The man’s been smirking at me in the throne room for a month.”

“I…That’s just his face.”

“To you, it might be. He’s worse than my crew.”

“I... think he’s threatening to buy you a drink.” Grimacing, she admits, “I might have fled before he finished talking.”

He considers her, sharp-eyed and face carefully straight, and says, “I could poison him, if you like.”

“Please don’t. They might make me governor.”

The facade cracks, and he smiles at her, broadly and all sharp teeth. Then it fades. “Do you mind him knowing?” And his voice is quiet, that sort of carefully brisk that means he’s trying to bandage being businesslike over potential hurt. The same tentativeness she saw when he asked her what she thought of the poem, as if he had any hope of hiding what he really meant.

Her first instinct has always been to try charm, and when words fail her, to joke; that’ll end with her in a duel someday. “That I’m with a brave, dashing captain who’s one of the best in the fleet? No. I was just trying not to make him jealous.” She says, with her own uncertainty, “Why? Do you mind him knowing?”

He looks surprised at the question – and then thoughtful, and more than a little fond. “I’ve weathered worse than a bit of scuttlebutt,” he says, stepping forwards to close the distance between them, his hand drifting upwards to map her jaw, her cheek. He smiles when she leans into it, and then he’s kissing her, gentle and far too sweet for a man who can terrify bandits. “My tempest,” he says softly, against her skin, resting there.

A man startled by his own luck.

And now she’s certain her smile must make her look like a fool and would have her pilloried at court, but she can’t bring herself to care. She just lets the silence grow for a moment, and leans into the warmth of him.

Even so, she can’t quite help herself: “I’ve changed my mind. You can poison him, if it would make you feel better.”

He laughs at that, one of her favourite sounds in the world. But he doesn’t let go of her.

[choco-mark]

One Day Closer (1)

pairings: soulmate!jaemin x soulmate!oc

genre: fluff | smut | a little angst if you squint

warnings: language, masturbation (fem. + m.), mentions of sex, mentions of underage drinking

summary: in a world where soulmates can hear each other’s thoughts, you slowly fall in love with your soulmate, though it takes you an eternity to realize who it really is.

words: 6.6k

parts: one | two

note: y/n and jaemin’s thoughts are written in italics

a part of the You Are Me series!!

7 April

Jaemin loved spring, he loved seeing the bare trees grow their leaves back and the fallen flowers rise up once more to resume their erect state. He loved the smell of the air, if it even had a smell, the way it was sweet and comforting to anyone passing through it. The sky was wide as always; it seemed clearer than any other season of the year, a crashing blue color that stained the world perfectly.

Y/N, however, loved winter. Jaemin knew it, he knew it from the way you praised the cold when soft snow fell outside of your window in the morning and the way your thoughts would giggle when you saw the puffs of white air coming from your mouth as you spoke. You loved everything about the freezing weather, and you were almost upset to see it gone as spring finally approached.

You were in school right now, staring at your teacher who was supposedly teaching chemistry, but your mind was hazy and filled with the thoughts of your soulmate. It was normal to hear your soulmate’s thoughts, just as everyone else in the world did, but he was always thinking. Constantly, even about the most irrelevant things.

Okay, but if I add x to this side, it just fucks up the whole equation. Wait, I’m supposed to add x over here too, right? That’s what she just said, dumbass, obviously.

You giggled to yourself out loud. I see you’re having pretty important thoughts right now, aren’t you? You do realize we share the same mind, right? I’m trying to learn some chemistry here.

Oh, that’s really funny, baby. His chuckle vibrated throughout your head as you sighed. You’ve been thinking about what you’re gonna have for lunch the entire time, which is far from anything chem related.

Hey, food is important! And I’m really hungry. I didn’t even eat breakfast before I got here. You pouted a little as you tried to stop your growling stomach from interrupting the class. Kinda regretting it now.

What did I say about skipping meals? His voice sounded stern, almost as if he was angry. You had successfully been hiding the fact that you didn’t eat in the morning because he often wasn’t awake, but now you were caught. Don’t do it, it’s not good for you. If you do it one more time, I’ll have to come force feed you, baby.

Baby. The little nickname that your nameless soulmate had called you by for years, since it was impossible to reveal your own name to them. It was funny, you would think sometimes, that you could share a hundred thousand thoughts with him but not the only thing that mattered. If only you knew his name…

I don’t need to know your name to find you. He answered in a softer voice, matching your thoughts. We’re meant for each other, baby, we’re soulmates for god’s sake! We just need to find each other when the time is right, and considering I haven’t seen anyone as beautiful as you, it’s not the right time.

As beautiful as me? You haven’t even seen me, how would you even…know that? Your eyes fell on the open notebook before you, the pages empty and without words.

I don’t need to see you to know that you’re beautiful. You could basically hear the smirk in his voice, and you internally scoffed. It’s true, baby! If your mind is this beautiful, you have to be gorgeous. I might even faint when I see you for the first time.

Yeah, right.

18 April

“I’m serious,” Jeno crossed his arms in front of you, looking you up and down before shaking his head. “You are absolutely miserable, Y/N. All you do is stay inside this goddamn room all day, and you barely even hang out with the me and the guys anymore! You’re coming with me whether you like it or not.”

You looked away from his piercing gaze, trying your best to suppress your feelings deep inside. As much as you knew you couldn’t be crying over such a stupid reason, you couldn’t help it.

Jeno had already found his soulmate, and it had been years since he had. He was happy with her, just like you ever wanted him to be, but the envy lying there for you to be him was constantly persisting. You wanted, more than anything in the world, to find your soulmate. But the last few days had been a battle between you and yourself, asking yourself over and over again whether you would really find him.

You had closed off your mind to your soulmate, not sharing your thoughts to him for the past week. It hurt, not being able to speak with him the way you always did, and you had broken the number one rule with him: to never close off your mind, no matter how hard it gets.

“Hey,” Jeno’s voice softened as he kneeled down to your position on your bed. “Wha-Why are you crying? What happened?”

You swiped at the tears falling continuously from your eyes, refusing to look at him. “You know, Jeno, it’s easy for you to preach all your happiness bullshit all the time: you’ve found your soulmate. You’ve always had her with you, so you don’t know what if feels like.”

“I’m never going to find him,” you whispered out the last words, closing your eyes tightly. “I’ll probably die before I do, and there’s no point. And you know what, I stopped talking to him a few days ago because I can’t do it anymore! I can’t sit and talk to someone mentally when it feels like they don’t even exist!”

There was only silence ringing through your room as Jeno watched you break down slowly, your sobs quiet but still there. He sighed, wrapping his arms around you to hold you still. “He does exist, Y/N. I promise you, he does exist.”

“And he’s waiting for you,” he continued, smoothing your hair down as your tears drenched his shirt. “He wants to find you as much as you do, so open it again. Talk to him. He’s waiting for you to come back.”

You closed your eyes tightly, knowing that Jeno was right. He was always right. But I need him back. Please come back. Please come back. I need to talk to him again.

He was there, you could feel it. You could hear his breathing, if that was even possible, the sound of his inhaling and exhaling that always calmed you down. He didn’t say anything, or rather think anything.

You felt the pain surging through you as you clutched Jeno’s shirt as if it were the only thing keeping your grounded to the universe. “He—”

Baby, why are you crying? Did you get hurt? Did something happen? What happened? You heard the concern relaxed through the voice you had missed for days. Please, baby, don’t cry. It hurts me too.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, and Jeno knew the words weren’t for him as your tears continued falling. “I’m sorry I closed off.”

It’s okay. He said in a soft rumble, along with the same chuckle. You felt it hurting, the pain becoming harder and harder to suppress until you realized, it wasn’t just your pain you were holding. It was his too. Please don’t do it again. I’m always here. I’m always here for you.

You heard his voice crack, a visible sound as you felt him cry too. “N-No, please don’t cry. I’m sorry.” But your words were lost in your self scolding, knowing that your selfishness had caused him pain. “I’m sorry.”

I’ll find you. We’ll find each other. I promise. We will, I know we will. That’s why we’re soulmates. We have to find each other, okay? Don’t give up.

I-I won’t.

Good. I missed your voice.

“I missed you too.”

24 May

It was midnight, well, possibly past midnight. And you were currently stuck inside Jeno’s not very large closet, alongside him and his friends.

Jeno’s friends were yours as well, meaning you were also friends with Donghyuck. He was a fun guy, one that always cheered you up but also joked around like it was his life. You really thought that he was going to die one day because of his love for pranking.

Then there was Mark and Renjun, who you weren’t as close with, but who were still good friends. Especially Mark, being all flustered and innocent all time, it really caught up on him when he’d be dared to ask a girl out. His excuse was always, “She’s not my soulmate!”

And then there was Jaemin and Jisung. They were the quieter bunch out of everyone else, but still fun to be around. Sometimes you thought that they were a little too secluded to themselves, and you tried to break them out of their boxes, but it was hard to.

Jaemin, especially, was the only other person in the group that had not found their soulmate. You two were common in that, and Jeno often offered for you to talk to him about it, but you weren’t sure if it was appropriate. You could tell, he was searching just as hard as you were, so much that he could barely even build a friendship with you. Likewise, a relationship.

“Okay! Spinning!” Donghyuck announced, taking the empty glass bottle and giving it a twist, and then leaning back against the wall. “Whoever it lands on has to confess something they’ve never done before.”

“What?” Mark asked confusedly, looking from him to you to Jeno. “I thought you were supposed to kiss whoever it landed on.”

“If you wanted me to kiss you, you could’ve just asked—”

The bottle stopped, the tip landing in front of Renjun. Everyone looked towards him. “Well?”

“Um, I’ve never kissed a guy.”

Before anyone could protest about his horribly heterosexual answer (because everyone knew he was the straightest guy there, after Mark of course), he took the chance to spin it the bottle.

It landed on Donghyuck, who rolled his eyes playfully, pointing to his lips drunkenly. “C’mon, baby, gimme me a kiss.”

You laughed out loud, clutching your stomach as Renjun started dodging the boy unsuccessfully. He didn’t stop until he got his kiss, making Mark look away all flustered as if he was the one kissed.

She’s pretty. Your heart almost stopped at the words pulsating through your mind from your soulmate, your smile falling instantly.

Who’s pretty? You were almost scared to ask, wondering if he had even meant to share that thought with you. But you could hear his chuckle, almost as if he was trying to cover up a mistake.

Jaemin shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, looking away on the gaze he had on you. His heart dropped, realizing what he had just done. My mom. She’s beautiful. I wish you could meet her.

He shook his head, glancing back at you before thinking to himself. Why’d she hear that? Jaemin’s eyes moved towards you again, seeing your demeanor as different than before. Maybe? But there’s no way, she already found her soulmate, right?

Who already found her soulmate? Jaemin could’ve spit out water if there was any in his mouth, but instead, he focused on Jeno’s laughing figure.

Huh? Oh, my friend. Sorry, baby, I keep bothering you with my weird thoughts. You thought he sounded a little odd, but you shook it off. He wouldn’t lie to you, that wasn’t like him.

Okay.

19 June

Today’s my last day of school. You tell your soulmate as you walked down your street, looking side to side before crossing the road. I can’t believe senior year’s over already. I feel like I was a freshman yesterday.

Hmm, really? Today’s my last day too. Are you sure we aren’t just the same person, baby? We’re so similar. He chuckled shortly after that, warming your heart a little. One day closer to seeing you.

That seemed to be your soulmate’s catch phrase lately, a little way of encouraging the both of you to get through the day: the promise of seeing each other. You giggled out loud, getting closer to the school.

You’re really optimistic, you know?

Only for you, baby. I can feel it, we’re gonna find each other soon. I’m finally gonna see how beautiful you really are.

You blushed at the words, grinning stupidly as you made it through the front door. Yeah? What if you’re more beautiful? What do we do then?

That’s not possible. His voice sounded so certain, as if he had already seen you a hundred times over and couldn’t get enough. You’re the most beautiful person I know.

Jaemin, who was sitting at his desk staring at his phone blankly, was also smiling widely. He felt the wave of pleasure and happiness wash over you, bathing him as well. The butterflies in his stomach were now in yours as well.

You’re so flirty. Your giggle was like heaven to him, making his insides turn over and over again as he wished to hear it again. I like it.

I like your voice. A lot. Does is sound the same in real life? Your laugh, it sounds so nice. Wait, can you sing?

Inside my head? I don’t know if I can think lyrics, though. I can’t really sing in reality, so I’m gonna assume that it sounds just as bad in your head—and mine.

Jaemin let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head to himself. You’re voice is my favorite, it’s like music to me. I could hear you talk for hours and I’d still listen.

Oh? Is that why you don’t tell me to shut up when I have a rant in the common mind room? You like my—voice, or like, thought voice?

I love it. And I can’t believe you just called this the ‘common mind room.’ The proper term is ‘soulmate reading room.’

And who said so?

Me, baby.

15 July

Jaemin shot up from his bed, feeling hot and sticky from the heat. He wasn’t sure why his sleep had been so rudely interrupted, but he sure had an idea when he felt a wave of deep pleasure course through him, making blood flow straight to where it really mattered.

He didn’t want to intrude on your thoughts, but he couldn’t help but stick his hands down his boxers and pull out his erect dick. It was throbbing, and the waves of pleasure being sent through him only made it worse.

Baby. You could barely think of any words to fill your head as you heard his voice deep in your mind, almost as if scolding you. You’re going to make me cum so fast, baby, slow down. God, it feels so good.

I’m sorry. Your voice sounded like it was pleading to him, asking for forgiveness immediately. But you couldn’t help but bring your fingers back down to your core, swiveling at the wetness that had developed. I think I had a dream about—something.

Jaemin wished he could imagine you, writhing underneath his grip as his tongue licked patiently down your gorgeous slit. Even the thought was so—sinful, and you heard each and every word of it, making it only more pleasurable to you.

Do you like it? Do you like it when you touch yourself, baby? How good does it feel, can you tell me? His words were filthy, and even though it was all in your head, it only heightened the arousal. Tell me how good you fuck yourself.

Your mind swerved at the thought, your fingers slowly entering your hole as you let out a small moan, trying not to make too much of a scene. Even though you were sure sounds like that couldn’t have been transmitted to your soulmate, it somehow did.

Fuck, you sound so pretty. He hummed, and it was more a sweet sound to your ear rather than your mind, making you buck your hips up and clench around your fingers. I wish I could see you right now. Fucking yourself so well.

You could fuck me better. You couldn’t help but have the thoughts pop up in your mind, swallowing a whine that he hears as well. As you felt the buildup of your orgasm, it increased quickly in less than a second, almost causing you to scream. Fuck, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum. Please.

I want you to cum, baby. Cum all over those pretty little fingers of yours. Think it’s me, it’s my hand, my fingers fucking you so good. C’mon baby, do it. I want to feel you.

Before he could say anymore, you had already come undone, your juices spilling down your thighs as you trembled. Thighs shaking, you muffled another whine with the sinking of your teeth into your sheets.

Just as you thought it was over, a second one can crashing down just as fast. You screamed into your pillow, color bursting into your eyes and your voice pleading over and over again for him, him, him. It was so good, so good that it felt wrong when your uncontrollable shaking slowly ceased.

Oh my god. I think I just ascended into the afterlife. That felt way too good. I can’t believe I felt it too, oh fuck.

Yeah, baby. It’s that good. I could cum over and over again just for you. Just to hear your voice in my mind whimpering like that, hmm, I’d do it everyday. Fuck, you’re making me so horny, baby, you’re so hot.

You couldn’t help but tiredly giggle at his statement, feeling a little proud of yourself for not only making yourself feel good, but your soulmate as well. I didn’t know that was something we could do.

You didn’t?

Wait, you did?!

I didn’t do it for so long because you never touched yourself like this before, baby. You’ve never orgasmed before. This was your first time.

You turned around in your bed, your legs feeling disgustingly sticky now. But you were far to lazy to clean up, and resorted to cuddling yourself in your blankets.

Wouldn’t it be your first time too?

There was a pause, and you wondered for a moment if he had fallen asleep. But he came back, his chuckle vibrating again.

Of course. I didn’t want to scare you before, so I didn’t try anything with myself. Hmm, but god I’m so glad you did. That was—hmm, so good.

We should do it again.

Oh fuck yes, baby, we’ll do it again. And I’ll, hmm, make you feel so good when I find you. So fucking good, I promise. Better than you felt just now.

But you didn’t hear those last thoughts, your mind drifting off into another land without your soulmate. Jaemin felt it, smiling to himself softly as he closed his own eyes, letting his sleep take him away.

I love you.

16 July

It was nine in the evening when your best friend decided to scare the living shit out of you by climbing through your bedroom window (it was a regular occurrence, but it didn’t make it any more normal) to drag you out of your house.

He was taking you camping, at least that’s what he mumbled as he ‘packed’ a bag for you, which you were looking through later in his car, realizing he had nicely packed useless shirts but not one pair of shorts.

“I’m gonna have to wear these shorts for next few days, you know!” You slapped his arm, but all he did was roll his eyes, continuing to drive to the camp ground. “And why didn’t you care to inform me of this earlier?”

“Well, you would’ve said no and I would’ve just climbed through your window anyway, so I thought I could save the whole ‘no’ part and just surprise you. So...surprise!”

It sure was a surprise indeed when you realized how many people were at the actual campsite. All of the guys were there, along with their respective soulmates. It made your heart drop a little as you saw Jeno walk off to his love, and even looking around, you couldn’t help but dull at the thought.

Jisung and his girlfriend were sitting at the edge by the river, talking softly amongst each other as they giggled. Even seeing the youngest boy so happy made you feel—pity for yourself, and you had to shake your head a few times to get rid of the envy.

“Y/N!” You turned around to Jeno’s girlfriend’s voice. She had a marshmallow and a stick in her hand, gesturing for you to come over to the bonfire that Mark somehow actually made without hurting himself.

As you reached her, you took a seat beside her, gasping a bit when she wrapped an arm around your shoulders, nuzzling her head against yours. “I missed you.”

“Me too.”

She was a good friend of yours, definitely not as close as you were with Jeno as she didn’t go to the same school as the two of you. But she as the sisterly figure that you always needed in your life, cheering you up and loving you to death.

Everyone eventually gathered around the fire, roasting their marshmallows and singing loudly to the trashy music blasting from Donghyuck’s speaker. Your eyes scanned through the circle, and your eyes fell on the only other single person in the crowd: Jaemin.

He was standing next to Renjun and his girlfriend, smiling alongside everyone else as they continued to have fun. As you let your eyes linger for a moment longer, he looked up, locking your gaze with his.

You offered him a small smile, feeling like it would be rude to just ignore him and he returned it, calming your nerves a little bit. God, why am I so nervous around him?

I don’t know, baby, try not to be.

You paused in the middle of your s’more, blinking a few times at the response from your soulmate. Wait, you heard that?

Um, not sure if you realized but we share a mind.

Looking away briefly, you watched as Chenle dramatically revealed the food that he had bought before arriving here. But I didn’t want you to hear that.

Ouch, that kinda hurt, baby.

You chuckled internally, smiling at his fake hurt voice, focusing back on eating your s’more. Just as you finished, you felt to hands on your back, pushing you towards the side.

Stumbling, you looked up to Jeno’s girlfriend, who had her arms crossed with a funny sort of stern look on her face. You looked over at Jisung, who gave you a apologetic look for his (reluctant) hard push.

“So I heard that you have memory issues? Memory issues that affect how much your eating, that’s what Jeno here tells me. Now, is it because you actually have a memory loss problem or do you just not eat?”

You glanced at Jeno, who was just looking at you with wide eyes. “Hey, I eat! I just—forget sometimes. I’m alone this whole summer, I suck at cooking, and I’m broke so...I just usually forget to eat.”

“Well, that excuse is not gonna work today!”

A plate of friend chicken was pushed into your hand by Chenle’s girlfriend, who gave you a sweet smile as you made your way back to your seat.

It was past midnight now, the darkness seemed to overtake everything else around the camp ground, making the river look colder. The chirping of the crickets was still there, their volume increasing as each hour passed.

Jaemin had watched the scene from farther away, and it confused him as he watched you eat. How does she forget something like that? Wouldn’t it...hurt?

I don’t know, baby, wouldn’t it?

Your voice was a mock of his sentence from earlier, and there was a brief silence. See, you didn’t want me to hear that, right?

I don’t know; that’s weird.

It was weird, usually when you didn’t want your soulmate to hear your personal thoughts, you could close it off to them. But lately, it seemed to do exactly the opposite. Maybe, it was a glitch in the system?

Or maybe we’re getting closer to finding each other. He sighed, the hopefulness that was usually in his voice gone without a trace. I don’t know anymore, baby.

Me neither.

“Okay, I love you all to death, but I need my sleep.” Jeno’s girlfriend announced, the music finally ceasing and allowing the quietness engulf the area. “There are seven tents, so claim yours. Me and Jeno have the blue one.”

Each of the couples went one after the other, claiming their tents quickly until you were left with, naturally—

“I guess we’re sharing, then?” Jaemin came up from behind you, handing over your bag that he probably picked up from the ground earlier. “If you want to? I can ask one of the guys—”

“No, no it’s okay. I don’t mind.”

He nodded, making his way to the tent that was left over for the other couple’s hoarding: the one closest to the river. It was a little eerie, especially when he opened up the tent to the light inside.

In a simple sense, it was small. The sleeping bags were much to close to each other for a couple of friends, but there wasn’t anything else to do as you glanced over at the boy.

“I’ll take the one over there,” you gestured to the one farthest from the entrance, but then added, “unless you want to?”

“Go for it, I don’t mind.” His voice rang from your answer earlier as you made your way inside, settling down on the sleeping bag you recognized as Jeno’s. This is gonna be awkward.

What’s gonna be awkward?

You pulled out a water bottle from your bag, taking a few sips. I’m just in a little bit of an awkward situation right now, that’s all.

Well, do you wanna have sex?

The water you had just put into your mouth came spitting out, wetting your clothes as the bottle titled. The shock of your soulmate’s random thought had hit you hard, and now your shorts were drenched with dirty water.

Jaemin looked over at you, seeing you suddenly look like you went swimming in the river with your clothes on. “Are you okay?”

“Um,” you stood up, examining yourself. “Y-Yeah, it just—went down the wrong pipe, I guess.” I’m soaked, fuck. At least the sheets aren’t wet though.

“Wait,” the boy ruffled through his bag, pulling out a small towel and handing it to you. “I can leave if you want to change?”

“Thanks,” you dabbed at your skin, trying to get the water off yourself as best as you could. “If you don’t mind...”

Nodding, he unzipped the tent, stepping outside to leave you in your own thoughts. What the fuck?!

What? Do you not want to?

I just said I’m in an awkward situation and you want to have sex?! What kind of logic is that? You pulled off your clothes, throwing over one of the over-sized shirts that Jeno had very nicely remembered to stuff in your bag.

It could ease the height of the situation!

You scoffed, wiping away the rest of the water on your body as you heard your soulmate’s familiar chuckle. There are other people here, I’m not doing anything.

As you made your way to the entrance of the tent, you felt an odd wave pass through your body, making your core pulsate involuntarily. I could make you cum in front of all those people, hmm? You would like that, wouldn’t you? Fucking yourself for me so good?

No.

I know you do, baby. You know how?

You walked to the end of the tent, pulling down the zipper to see Jaemin’s back to you. “Jaemin,” he perked up at the sound of your voice, finally seeing you. “You can come inside.”

Because I can feel you trembling.

The way Jaemin looked in your eyes right now was breathtaking, his hair askew as he stepped back into the small lighting of the tent. You lingered on him for a moment too long, feeling the heat growing in your core immediately.

I can tell you like it.

You laid down against the pillow, your heart pounding from the arousal coursing through you. Please don’t, there are other people here. You’re gonna embarrass the fuck out of me.

Turning your back to Jaemin, you felt your entire body shiver, but not from the cold this time. He was touching himself, and you could tell from the way that his internal breathing was hitched, making you grab on tightly to the end of your bag.

“Hey, I’m gonna turn the lights out,” you heard Jaemin’s voice in the background, and you could’ve sworn that they echoed through your head as well. “Y/N?”

“Y-Yeah, okay.”

In a moment it was pitch black, allowing yourself to curl up into yourself as you felt the buildup in your stomach growing. Please, please, please.

Please, what?

Now being in the dark, your senses seemed to heighten, the pleasurable and painful throbbing to your clit being too much to ignore. You let your fingers wander to your clit, finally pressing against it, rubbing slowly. Successfully staying quiet, you dipped your fingers past your folds, feeling the wetness collect on your fingertips. You’re gonna make me cum.

I know, baby, that’s kind of the point.

Just as you started massaging against your clit a little faster, you heard a shift from Jaemin beside you, making you stop your motions for a moment. Your heart was in your throat now, the risk of being caught being so, so high. Faster, please.

You couldn’t believe that you were begging for more, but your soulmate certainly loved it. I wish I could hear you right now, baby. Hmm, you’d sound so good.

Finally, you let your fingers slip into your hole, letting out a soft sigh. It wasn’t too loud, you hoped, but the sound was amplified in Jaemin’s mind, almost making him cum at it.

Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum to your sounds, baby. Don’t stop, keep fucking yourself for me.

The dominant tone in his voice as you quickened your pace took over your body, your panting increasing as you stifles them with your pillow. You just hoped that you wouldn’t make too much of a mess, this was Jeno’s sleeping bag after all.

Jaemin, on the other hand, didn’t really give a shit. Just hearing his soulmate whine because of him turned him on so fast, making it increase his pumping. He had assumed that you had fallen asleep, at least from the soft sounds that you were releasing, so he had all the time to himself.

But he wasn’t too loud, at least he tried not to be for the sake of you. You couldn’t hear anything, however, your mind only focusing on finding your release quickly. Please, please, I need to cum.

He didn’t respond to your plead, only continuing to build the both of you up in a tighten knot. Jaemin bit down on his lip, hoping that he wasn’t breathing too loudly to wake you up, but he didn’t seem to really care when his seed spurted from his cock.

At the same time his hand was being covered in his own milky liquid, your fingers slipped out of you with ease as you shuddered, his orgasm having a huge effect on you. With a quick movement, you buried your head against the pillow, calming your breaths as quickly as possible. Hmm, fuck.

It took you a while before you finally calmed down, the throbbing between your legs stopping as you heard your soulmate’s chuckle in your head. You liked it?

Humming, you nodded as if he could see you. Yes, I liked it. Thank you. You felt your lids growing heavy with your thoughts, and your eyes finally shut with the memory of his voice in your head.

Sweet dreams, my love.

17 July

You woke up with a small jolt from inside your body, the electricity coursing through your veins strong enough to make you open your eyes to the bright light flooding the tent. The first thing you noticed, however, were the fact that you were unable to move.

Looking at the position now, you had no clue how you had even gotten here: your body snuggled close to Jaemin’s, legs tangled and his head resting against your chest. Even as you shifted slightly, he stirred gently, his arms tightening around your waist. How did I even get here? It’s so...tight.

Good morning to you too, baby. You’re awake so early.

Oh, you’re awake. You looked down at the pink hair below you, making you want to lace your fingers through it. I’m in a bit of a sticky situation again.

Jaemin scrunched up his face, still facing away from you as his legs enclosed yours tighter. He should’ve pulled away, perhaps a while ago, but something deep inside of him was telling him not to let go. What’s wrong?

Huh? Nothing, it’s just another...awkward situation I got myself into. You struggled against his grip, trying at least to get your arms out, but they were trapped.

What happened? Jaemin could hear the sound of your racing heart, increasing with every move that either of you made. Baby?

Nothing, nothing’s wrong. I’m fine, I’m just in another awkward situation with someone and I don’t even think it’s their fault.

Jaemin’s eyes trailed down your clothed skin, landing on the exposed portion of your legs that were secured tightly under his. It was an intimate position, and he knew that he couldn’t keep you in it for too long...not unless.

He looked up slowly, his eyes meeting yours hesitantly before he stared deeply into yours. You didn’t say anything, your mind going blank as the boy in front of you stared back at you with an expression of awe on his face. He’s too close.

You’re right, I’m too close. Jaemin was hesitant with his thought, but you could hear his breathing going through your mind as he inched closer. His thought echoed in your mind, but it sounded more as if Jaemin had told you those words.

His face inched closer to yours: eyes fluttering from your eyes to lips with the parting of his mouth. Jaemin hesitated, his hands finding purchase to your back as he pressed them down, feeling the spark that ignited both of you.

You couldn’t help but feel that something was right for the first time in your life as his lips brushed past yours, almost setting them on fire from the pure ecstasy of the touch. Finally, with a single sigh leaving him, his lips pressed against yours, feeling you wholeheartedly.

And the moment it happened, you knew it. You knew that the feeling you had wasn’t just yours, not when his hand snaked up to your chin, titling it to allow him in deeper. Your tongue clashed with his, both of the wet muscles massaging each other with a slow pace as if you had waited your entire life for this moment.

You felt it, I know you felt it. Jaemin pulled at your waist, settling you under him as he planted his knees beside your hips. His hands found yours, intertwining your fingers with his. Tell me you felt it, baby.

If you aren’t kissing me right now, your thought came out cracked, your lips devouring Jaemin’s without a second thought, then I might cry.

Your soulmate chuckled, the sound vibrating in both of you and for the first time, it felt real. Everything, for once, felt like it was real. The burning touch of skin against each other, the clash of saliva; it all felt real. Well, baby, I don’t think you have to cry.

He pulled away for a brief second, eyes darting around your entire face before tears welled up in his eyes, a shaky smile breaking out. Your fingers laced through his hair, bringing him closer to kiss him again, deeper than before. We did it, baby, we did it.

You felt him crying, the pain mixing with the happiness perfectly as hot tears poured from your own eyes as well. We finally did it, we found each other.

Jaemin.

He could’ve died, he thought as he pulled you over his lap, cupping your face in his hands as if you were the most important thing in the world to him. The only thought he could never share with you was the only one he wanted to hear from your voice inside of his head; the one that reached out to him from depths beyond the love you both had for each other. And he finally heard it.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he muttered softly, burying his face into your neck, leaving a trail of feathered kisses. His hands caressed your hair softly as he looked up at you with those big eyes, the ones so full of love and joy. “I love you so much.”

You didn’t trust yourself with words, but a grin broke out from you as you watched him breakdown before you. It was the most beautiful sight; the moment of a boy confessing his love to his one and only soulmate, and you could’ve wished to live in that moment forever. 

“You’re my soulmate,” your voice was more a whisper, but he heard it, he had always heard it. Fingers pressed into the skin of his neck as he leaned against your chest again, feeling the beat of your heart. “Jaemin...”

“Yeah, that’s me,” his laugh was broken, arms holding your body so tightly as if you were going to slip away from his grasp in less than a second. “I’ve found you, baby.”

“Can you say my name again, baby? In our mind, please? I want to hear your voice again.”

I could say it a million times. Your voice echoed through his mind, and his lips found your skin again, kissing and kissing and kissing. Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin. I love you, Jaemin.

I can’t believe you were right here this whole time. It took me so long to realize that it was you all along, it was you this whole time.

“I know,” you held his head against you, the comfort radiating from him never going away. “But I’m so glad, I’m so glad it’s you.”

Me too, baby. I couldn’t have wished for anyone better.

It felt like two people in love after years of being alone. And it felt like two people meeting each other, after an entire lifetime of not meeting each other.

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[apocalypseornaw]

Love Finds You

For the square "Arranged Marriage" on @girl-next-door-writes bingo

Mafia (ish) AU. Warnings are cursing, angst, John trying to kill the reader, Dean killing John

Word Count: 5,343

You walked through the quiet halls hearing the echo of your boots reverberate to your own ears. Something big was happening for this place to be this quiet. It was like a tomb where normally there was a solid bustle of movement. You stopped just shy of the entrance to your uncle’s study. You felt an uneasiness but pushed it down before knocking on the heavy door. “Come in” you heard his voice carry out and knew he wasn’t alone.

You straightened your jacket before pushing the door open and wasn’t at all surprised to see none other than John Winchester sitting in front of your uncle Joseph’s desk. Your eyes narrowed at the presence of the other man and you unconsciously reached to touch the gun riding at your hip and saw Joseph give the barest shake of his head “Y/N I believe you know our guest” John held his hand out but you didn’t care about the pretense of politeness you’d earned your reputation and with it had come the right to act as you saw fit so you simply folded your arms “The man whose wife was killed when his kids were young so he’s done everything in his power to stay as far away from those kids and be the poorest excuse for a father even this line of work has ever seen?” 

Joseph looked taken aback but John on the other hand had the nerve to laugh “Yeah I heard she was something and she does not disappoint” you turned your eyes to your uncle “What’s all this cloak and dagger bullshit? Why is the head of the only other family in the world that comes close to your empire sitting in your office?” “As you just said dear. The Winchesters are the only other family that comes close to ours. What better way to solidify our footing than a union between the two?” you laughed harshly, the sound sharp enough to slice through the air “I know you didn’t call me here with the nerve to propose that I have anything to do with him?” “Actually my oldest son Dean has agreed to do whatever necessary to help the family succeed” John cut in so you spun around on him “So you abandon your kids bad enough to get a reputation for it, then come here to basically plot with Joseph to sell your son off like a prize stud while I’m what? The old mare you’re breeding him to? Make a whole new crop?”

“Y/N that is enough young lady!” Joseph spoke harshly, his voice filling the area as he stood to his full height. You didn’t back down catching the look of amusement John had as you stood your ground “If you expect to marry me off to solidify an empire then I am here to tell you I expect everything to be signed over to me the moment I say I do. If I’m to agree to an arranged marriage then I’m going to fucking profit from it”  Joseph nodded “I’ve been wanting to retire as is” you turned your attention from him to John “I want to meet your son before the week’s end. My future husband and I need to have a long talk. My dear uncle has my number” He nodded “Yes ma’am” you spun around on your heel and marched out the office being sure to slam the door shut behind you.

You held up the pretense until you made it down to your car and only once you were pulling away from the curb did you break tears flowing freely. You knew your life would never truly be your own but now you didn’t even get a chance to try to fall in love, you were being forced to marry someone you’d never meant just to hold onto what your father had built and what you’d bled to keep intact.

It was three days later before your phone rang with a number you didn’t recognize. When you answered it you groaned inwardly at hearing John’s voice “Y/N? Dean wants to know if you’d like to meet today” “Name a time and place” you responded coldly. He reiterated the location and time so you agreed before hanging up. You stared at the phone then clicked the number you had saved on the speed dial. A woman didn’t get as far as you had without having people she could trust. The Banes twins were your right hand man and woman. You’d take them with you to the meeting along with Abaddon who was a bit of a loose cannon but she was loyal to you.

------

A few hours later you were riding in the passenger seat of Abaddon’s range rover with Alicia and Max sitting in the backseat going over a weapon’s check. “So let me get this right, you marry Winchester and your uncle’s part of the business is yours?” Max asked and you nodded. “Do we all get promotions?” Abaddon asked, her red hair gleaming in the sunlight and a barely restrained laugh pulling at her bright red lips.   “Oh you all will be my team that stays in the main house with me” you replied with a sharp laugh.

When she pulled the car to a stop at the iron gate you glanced up to look into the security cameras while she spoke to the monitor that she was your security detail. A few seconds later the gate swung open so she pulled in.

The property was nice, sprawling out in front of you. The garage was open and the inside looked like a classic car collection. Just from a glance you spotted a 65 Shelby, a 70 Coronet and a drop down gorgeous 67 impala. “Please tell me those belong to Dean” you muttered without meaning to earning a laugh from the interior of your vehicle.

She drove around to the front entrance and parked where a guy motioned for her to. You clocked the gun at his side before ever getting out. It was fair enough, you were carrying same as Abaddon and Alicia while Max had more blades on him than you would’ve thought possible before meeting him. “You must be Y/N” the guy greeted you the moment your feet stepped outside the range rover.

You extended your hand with a business smile “That I am. Normally I like to know who I’m talking to?” an easy smile slipped onto his face and you got the sense he was getting a feel for you even before he said “Name’s Benjamin Lafitte ma’am. Feel free to call me Benny, Dean does” You nodded and motioned to everyone in your party in turn “This is Abaddon, Alicia and Max” they all greeted each other then Benny motioned to the door “He’s waiting in the back garden. From what we’ve heard about you formal meetings isn’t really your thing” Abaddon cut her eyes at you so you rolled your eyes before saying “I appreciate a good impression being attempted”

You followed Benny through the main house admiring some of the artwork adorning the walls. It was a nice place. When he stepped to the side to open the doors leading into the back garden a redheaded woman was standing on the other side. With a nod to her Benny made the introductions. Her name was Charlie and it earned Dean a point in your book to learn he had a few women on his team. She joined your little group as Benny led the way past two fountains, a large swimming pool and what looked to be a firing range.

Three men were standing looking out over the property at the edge of the garden. Two were clearly John’s sons while the other looked to maybe be an uncle to them. Benny whistled out and the three turned to face all of you. 

While both of the younger men were good looking your eyes were glued to the shorter of the two. He had bright green eyes that were watching you curiously and just the way he held himself was an underlying sense of control to him at all times. He was gorgeous and the smirk that slipped onto his face from your attention told you that he was well aware of that fact “You must be Y/N. I’m Dean” “Nice to meet you considering we’ll be married in a couple months” you replied with a sharp laugh. The smirk on Dean’s face spread into a grin “I’ve heard a few things about you” “Good or bad?” you asked and he shrugged “Depends on the point of view”

He introduced you to the two men standing with him. One was his younger brother Sam, the other was Bobby Singer the man who’d practically taken over raising him and Sam. Once everyone knew each other’s names Dean nodded to Benny “Call inside for some drinks for our guests while me and Y/N speak in private” his eyes had never left yours but you refused to break eye contact first.

He motioned towards a trail you saw cut through the wooded area around the property “Care to take a walk?” you cut your eyes back towards Alicia, Max and Abaddon. “Yeah those three aren’t letting me out of their sight that easily” he nodded then said “Pick someone to walk with us but you’re not in any danger here. That’s why we had no problem letting you keep your weapons” you raised an eyebrow then motioned to Max “Care to take a walk with us?” he nodded and fell in step a few feet behind you and Dean giving the privacy the two of you needed but not being too far that he couldn’t be to your side quickly if needed.

The two of you walked in silence for a few moments before you broke it by asking “Dean do you even want to marry me? I mean you clearly would have plenty of options” he scoffed and cut his eyes at you “Like you’d have trouble warming your bed up there sweetheart?” you didn’t blush easily and times like this you were glad. He continued by saying “This life is all I’ve known. Between our families no one would dare step out of line and we both have morals we stand by. Innocent people don’t get hurt by us. If marrying a beautiful woman with one hell of a reputation is the cross I must bear then I believe I have fared pretty well” You laughed in earnest at that “Dean Winchester are you trying to sweet talk me?” he grinned and christ it made your stomach flip “Maybe, is it working?” you shook your head with a grin.

He stopped walking and turned to face you with all humor gone from his eyes “I just want to say even after we’re married I won’t lay a finger on you unless you want me to. I know this isn’t ideal but I’d like to think of myself as a good man and I’d like to think I could be a good husband even in this circumstance” You tilted your head slightly as you studied him. After a moment of your silence he scratched at the scruff covering his jaw “Are you gonna say anything in return or just stare at me?” you smiled and replied “Just thinking that you really are not what I expected but in the best of ways” he nodded then glanced back where Max was twirling a knife between his fingers “Think our people are playing nice?” you nodded then said “They’ve got to get used to each other”

John and Joseph alike both had plans for announcing the engagement. Meaning that between them both they had practically planned a damn ball just for a bunch of suits to get together in one room so they could flaunt that their families would be becoming one to the rest of the world. You hated the idea of being trotted around like a show horse.

“Alicia is this damned thing straight?” you asked, turning in front of the mirror. The dress had been designed for you. The color and cut was flattering, it had a slit giving you access to the knife at your thigh not that you’d need it considering Abaddon and Max would both be wearing designer suits decked out with their weapons on display and Alicia like you had a few blades hidden under her dress as well. “Will you stop fidgeting? You look beautiful” she smiled, smoothing the dress under her hands. You spared a smile in the mirror “So you do! I love that red dress” she winked “Thank you”

A knock on the door drew both of your attention so you called out “Yes?” and heard Max ask if the two of you were ready to go downstairs. You took Alicia’s arm then opened the door. Max let out a low whistle “Well you two look amazing” “Thanks Max” you smiled and ran your fingers across the lapel of his suit “You clean up pretty well too” He grinned “Abaddon is already downstairs. Y/N your in-laws were arriving so she sent me up to retrieve you” you rolled your eyes but let him lead the way downstairs.

------

You stopped at the bottom of the stairs and spotted Dean speaking to Joseph but he trailed off mid sentence when he saw you and that smile slid onto his face. Joseph said something to him so he nodded then made his way through the crowd.

When he got in front of you and Alicia he stopped. She kissed your cheek then grabbed her brother’s arm “Come on Max let’s mingle. Y/N we’ll be close enough” you watched her go then turned to Dean with a smile “So how do I look?” he let his eyes trail over your body and you felt heat rush to your face before he finally said “You look like everyone here is going to be cussing me under their breath when they find out we’re engaged” you laughed and shook your head “There’s that sweet talking streak again” he held his hand out and when you took it he asked “Is it working yet?” you rolled your eyes playfully “No but I’ll be sure to let you know when it does”

------

For the next few hours you were close to Dean’s side. You danced with him and Sam, even Bobby asked you for a dance. Abaddon was chatting with Charlie and you spotted Max and Alicia talking with Benny and another of Dean’s people. He was a pretty decent guy, easy on the eyes and easy to be around. You could’ve gotten stuck with a lot worse.

When it got close to midnight you watched as John and Joseph walked onto the stage together. Joseph took the mic first “As most of you are aware John and myself are here to announce something” he handed the mic to John who pointed where you and Dean stood so a spotlight followed “My Oldest son Dean is engaged to marry Joseph’s niece Y/N. We couldn’t be happier and wish the kids the best in the world” Dean wrapped his arm around your waist as would be expected and whispered in your ear “Like they didn’t push us into this” you laughed lightly but to anyone else it would appear just lovers whispering sweet nothings.

For the next while you clung to Dean’s arm as group after group stopped to congratulate the two of you. You found an opening and pulled him after you towards the back exit of the hall. He waved off Benny and Abaddon following you step for step. 

When you finally crashed into the cool night air a nervous laugh fell from your lips “Y/N are you ok?” you nodded then said “I guess it’s just I never saw myself getting married even in this life knowing this was a possibility and honestly I don’t know what it is about you but I’m not as mad as I was” “I hope maybe one day we can love each other Y/N. Even if our life starts like this it doesn’t have to stay like this. Our marriage may have been their idea but I plan to wine and dine you even after you say I do” he replied and you raised an eyebrow “Is it a challenge or making the best of the situation?” you asked so he shrugged “Maybe I just like you”

The two of you sat down on a bench just outside watching the night sky. A shooting star went over head so you bumped Dean’s arm “Make a wish Winchester” he turned to face you and the close proximity made your heart flip again as he said “I could think of a wish or two” you smiled and leaned forward to let your lips gently brush against his. He returned the kiss fully and when you pulled away to catch your breath you whispered “Me too” before he pulled you into another kiss.

Weeks passed after the ball announcing your engagement and during that time a day didn’t go by that you and Dean didn’t speak or spend time together. The more you learned of him the more you started to realize that while you hadn’t picked him it was as if you had he was nearly a perfect match for you. The only thing was he wanted desperately to have his father’s approval but he was twice the man John was. You just wished he’d see it.

You’d also started to spend some time getting to know Sam since he would be your brother-in-law and learned he actually had been enrolled in college to be a lawyer but when his girlfriend had been killed he ended up rejoining the family. He was now seeing a woman named Eileen but didn’t want it to be public knowledge simply because he didn’t want John around her. Knowing John you didn’t blame him and offered any assistance you could in helping him spend time with her.

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Time rolled around for your final dress fitting so you, Abaddon, Alicia and Charlie were in the private suite of the bridal shop. The dress had been made for you so it fit perfectly. You stepped up to show them and they all clapped. “You look gorgeous and that’s with just a ponytail in your hair” Charlie offered with a grin. You smiled and twirled “Think Dean will like it?” Abaddon who had wandered off to the lingerie section held up a piece and winked “I think he’d prefer you in this” . You covered your face with both hands and Alicia cracked up laughing “Twenty years! I have known you for twenty years and I have never seen you blush!” 

“Have you slept with him?” Charlie asked bluntly and you nearly choked on the wine you were drinking. “I haven’t done more than kissed him” “Oh my god!” Abaddon groaned, flopping dramatically into the nearest chair “Why?” you shrugged “We’ve been getting to know each other!” Alicia raised an eyebrow “You have real feelings for him” when you didn’t respond she gasped “You’ve actually fallen in love with him haven’t you!” your eyes flew to Charlie who sipped her wine quietly. “Charlie” Abaddon spoke more as a question than as her name.

Charlie looked up from her glass “Ok so maybe he’s fallen for you too?” the three of them piled into one chair then looked back at you expectedly “So are you going to admit it?” Alicia finally asked and you shook your head “Not to either of you three”

Two weeks before you and Dean were to be married you were at your condo in the city finishing packing up. The plan was for you and him to move into a property that was between Joseph’s  and the Winchesters. It was large enough that you could both have those you wanted close but have privacy also. God help you had gone from horrified at the idea of this marriage to excited for it.

It was around two in the morning but you couldn’t sleep so you had music playing while you went through some of your older clothes and waited for Abaddon to get there. You heard a window break in your bedroom and grabbed your gun off the coffee table. You didn’t expect the pipe bomb that blew the front door off the hinges and threw you across the room.

You were barely conscious when you heard a voice say “With Joseph out the way we need her dead. We need to make Dean believe rivals killed her. That boy is so in love he’ll rip through them all. Grab her and we’ll keep alive long enough he’ll kill anyone when he finally gets her body” you tried to push yourself up but a black boot came into view. You followed that boot up to look into John’s eyes. He shrugged “Nothing personal sweetheart” then kicked you hard across the face.

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When news made it to Dean that Joseph was dead and you were missing he felt his blood run cold. “What do you mean she’s missing? I thought you three had her back!” he nearly growled at Abaddon who was standing with Max and Alicia outside of Joseph’s estate where Dean had ended up going with Benny, Charlie and Sam at his side.

“We did! God dammit, I went to get her chinese takeout! I came back and her place was a wreck and these two were calling about the alarm going off at the main house!” Abaddon didn’t back down. She realized that Dean had a right to rage. He was in love with you but you’d been her charge and friend for many years. She’d die for you and wasn’t about to let him act like her and the twins didn’t care. “Well what now?” Benny asked and Charlie raised her hand “Has anyone checked cameras leading from her place?” Sam pointed at her “Good idea. Start there backtrack if possible. Dean we will find her”

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How long had it been since you’d been taken? Did Dean think you were dead? Was he mourning you? Was John using him as a blunt instrument in his grief?

You were leaned back against a concrete wall curled into a tight ball. Your left eye was swollen shut, the right side of your head was sore to the touch from a blow that had needed staples but the swelling had finally stopped the bleeding. You were certain you had a few cracked ribs and more than likely some internal damage. 

They’d showed you Joseph’s body and while he hadn’t been your favorite he’d still had taken care of you. John had stupidly expected you to die easily. You refused to stop fighting. You owed it to everyone you cared about to stay alive as long as possible. 

You heard boots coming and forced your head up. John was right outside the small cell they’d shoved you into watching you closely. “Really I hate this because you’re a perfect match for Dean but I can’t have your morals fucking up my business. Right now Dean doesn’t like innocent people getting hurt but after I kill you then track down Sam’s new girl. The two of them? Well my boys will be ready to take down anyone I put in front of them” he smiled cruelly and you laughed despite the pain it caused “What’s so funny?”

You waved your hand showing the large slices they’d cut into your arms “You still think they’re anything like you or your dead wife? Those two? They���re good they’ll never follow your lead you bastard” he smiled humorlessly “We’ll see after your body gets delivered to Dean tomorrow” “So you’re here to kill me?” you asked and he pulled his gun out in response “Sure am”

You forced yourself to your feet biting down on your tongue to squash the noises of pain wanting to creep out of your lips. You refused to die on your knees. If you were going down it would be on your feet “Then do it you son of a bitch”

You held his gaze as a shot rang out but to your surprise you didn’t feel the pain of a gunshot instead John crumpled to the ground. You collapsed to your knees rather from pain or shock you weren’t sure but when you saw Dean standing there with a gun staring at his father’s body you began to sob.

You could hear familiar voices. Abaddon,Benny, Max but blocked them out. Thanks to you, the man you loved had been forced to kill his father.

You were curled into yourself when you felt strong hands on your shoulders “Y/N come on baby” you finally looked up to see Dean kneeling next to you. “I’m sorry” you choked out and he looked confused for a second then glanced back “It’s not your fault. I love you and if I had to kill him ten times over to save you I will” he gently pressed his lips to yours, careful of your wounds, then pulled you into his lap.

When the rest of the rescue team found you Dean barely wanted anyone else to lay a hand on you. He finally let Charlie and Bobby get close enough to look over your wounds “Nothing life threatening but she needs a hospital son. Your girl’s a fighter” Bobby said with a kind smile to you. Dean’s eyes were glued to yours as he said “My soon to be wife if she’ll still have me” you nodded crying again “Of course Dean”

“It’s taken a lot to get here but I am proud to say I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride” Bobby announced and Dean pulled you into a deep kiss.

The wedding was a lot smaller than anything Joseph or John had planned. There were barely thirty people in the garden of Joseph’s or well now your estate. It suited you and Dean a lot better. When Dean pulled back he smiled down at you “I love you Y/N” “I love you too Dean”

After the reception instead of throwing your bouquet you walked over and handed it to Eileen then winked at Sam “You’re next brother in law” Dean laughed and slid an arm around your waist “You heard my wife Sammy”

@girl-next-door-writes