#its sets the world and tone its fine

[ladysophiebeckett]

micheal arndt cowrote both catching fire and tbosas. that's why the blurbs were like 'this is the best hunger games movie since catching fire'. he's probably the one that gave snow the 'look at them holding hands, i want them dead' line.

[thelastharbinger]

ive never been let down by a txt album

...until now. and im so sad about it.

[bisexualiteaa]

actually dying for a cooper howard x vaultie!reader smut where they have some slow burn longing steaminess, but coop thinks she’s too good for him UNTIL she comes in contact with a sex pollen-esque chem and he finally gives in to save her 🥵 please work your magic and elaborate however you want

A Flame in Your Heart

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW like absolutely filthy y’all, you’ve been warned. 💀 unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, p in v, p0rn w/ plot, slow burn, flirting, cursing, perverted thoughts, dub-con (because of chem usage though consent is asked and given!) rough sex, dirty talk, choking, praise kink, degradation, squirting, mention of fingering, FEELINGS!! Slight deviation from TV series, possible grammar/spelling mistakes, cooper starts off mean but slowly warms up to reader

AN: I absolutely LOVED this request! I was up all night writing down all my ideas and spent all this morning perfecting it, and this has to be my longest one yet! I thank you for your patience anon and my lovely readers as I finally post this! Hope you enjoy and that I have done your ask justice! ❤️

Life outside of the vault was difficult to say the least. You felt hunger and dehydration in ways you’d never experienced before, going out of your way to do desperate things you would normally never do in order to get said food and water. The heat was unbearable, every stretch of land you walked across had a danger lurking around every corner, and worst of all, you’d never felt so alone. You weren’t sure what it was about you, maybe it was because you were new to the surface, maybe it was your nearly perfect skin, but everyone seemed to stare or glare at you when you would walk through. It wasn’t until you’d passed through Filly, meeting Ma June that you realized people didn’t take kindly to people like you. “Vaulties” she called them, an audible disdain in her tone, making you look down to remember you were in your blue and gold Vault-Tec suit. “I’ll be going then, have a nice day!” You said skiddishly, offering her a kind smile before turning and exiting the shop. You just wanted to make friends, why was that so hard up here? So when your eyes set on a man clad in classic Wild West cowboy clothes, watching smoke settle after a stand off, you weren’t sure why but you knew that was who you needed on your side in this world. Before you knew it, your feet were already moving and mouth speaking to him, grabbing his attention.

“I ain’t no charity case sweetheart, I don’t take on strays” The ghoul spoke, his southern drawl making him even more memorable than the marred texture of his skin. You looked to the dog that trailed not far behind him as he walked, changing its pace to keep up with the man. “The dog there with you tells me otherwise” you quipped. “Ain’t my dog” he responded harshly as he continued walking. “I can make it worth your while!” You yelled, making him stop in his tracks for a moment, a scary sight at first before you worked up the nerve to come closer once he turned back to you. “And how you suppose you’d do that?” He asked, and at first you didn’t know what to say, the words leaving your mouth before you could really think of a good enough reason. Did nobody like company anymore these days? “Well…I can be your scavenger! Pretty good at collecting stuff” you offered, shaking your bag and making things rattle around inside to prove it, making him give a huff of a chuckle. “‘f I wanted a pack mule I’d‘ve found a brahman” he shot you down. “Okay, then I can be good company to talk to!” You offered. “They make radios for when I want to listen to someone yack” he shut down once again. “I’m a good cook! Even with shitty supplies, I can make a stew that’d put a smile even on the meanest son of a gun’s face” you said, hopeful that he’d at least take you for something, but you had a feeling he’d probably turn you down again. “Iguana on a stick’s just fine” he said, though he had to admit the stew sounded good. Reminded him of home before all this wasteland bullshit. “Oh, umm…” you said awkwardly, your tone growing quiet and my how it put a sad look in your eyes. The evil part of him liked it, seeing your sweet innocent face all downturned but the part that was still human deep down, the part that hardly ever saw the light of day anymore, had half a mind to let you.

“Got a lotta nerve walkin’ up t’ me, girly. If you somehow been lucky enough that you ain’t met dangerous yet, you’re lookin’ at someone who could put you down before you’d even mutter your last words” he threatened, motioning to the double barreled shotgun in his hands. “I know, I saw it first hand. You hold yourself well, I envy that. I’m new to all of this and just really want someone who can help me hold my own the same way” you explained. “Look, I know I don’t look like much but please just give me a chance” you begged, looking up at him with a fighting spirit in your eyes that he had to admit, he was pretty impressed in seeing in a vaultie. “You help me, I help you, however that ends up being” you offered, standing strong on this and damn if he didn’t see a little bit of himself in you at that. He gave a sigh, tilting his head down before shaking it, not believing himself for the words he was about to say. “Alright, but the minute you start draggin’ you’re out, got me?” He said, and he hated the way his cold heart seemed to pump a little faster upon seeing your eyes light up with joy and a smile stretch to your face. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, opening your arms up to hug him but being met with the barrel of his gun poking your stomach to keep space between you. “I don’t do hugs” he spoke gruffly, making you back up enough to where he’d drop the gun back to his side. “R-Right…sorry” you apologized, embarrassment washing over you but still glad to finally have someone in your company. “C’mon, I ain’t got all day now” he said, motioning you to start walking, so you joined him.

Your travels with him certainly weren’t at all what you were expecting them to be. From being used as bait, to being tied up with rope most of the time you’d traveled together, or being sent in as his scavenger, you weren’t prepared for a lot of the reality you faced with being up on the surface. Most nights made you question why you’d ever left the comfort of the vault, why you’d abandoned a trusty food supply, regulated temperatures, a safe place to sleep that wasn’t riddled with radroaches or had the likely hood of waking up to a raider with a knife at your throat for no reason. Then you would remember the experiment in your vault, why you left that awful place for arguably a worse reality on the surface but at least you had freedom. Out here you were free to say what you want, do what you want, consume what you want so long as you could defend yourself incase that supply wasn’t unclaimed. You’d gotten pretty handy with a gun in the most recent weeks. Cooper, you learned one night was his name, using empty glass bottles as targets to help teach you accuracy and how to hit things from a longer range. In exchange, you came a little more useful than he had first thought. You had some useful stuff on you for trade like chems, ammo and food, were a good extra bag to hold stuff in, and you were a better cook than you’d talked about. Sure you had a tendency to talk too much, and you weren’t great with a gun, but you were getting there.

“Might I suggest takin’ them clothes instead of wearin’ that suit?” He said, making you look at him weird for suggesting you strip a dead raider of their clothes. “Why would I do that…?” You asked, genuinely confused and not sure what he was implying either, he was a hard man to predict. “Because, people see that shit and get real mad. People up here don’t like vaulties or the ones that run ‘em” he said and it made sense, it helped you understand why you kept getting evil glares each time someone would look at you or talk to you. You figured he knew best, so you took the shirt and pants from one of the female raiders, tucking them into your bag to change into at a better time. He gave a chuckle watching you do so, apologizing to the dead body profusely as you took their clothes and whatever valuables they had on them for the betterment of your own survival. You were still so naive, part of him was hoping he could slowly start to break and corrupt your way of thinking, but that was a thought for another time.

Before you knew it, night finally began to fall. The sun setting across the horizon gave the air less of a hot, harsh bite as the temperature began to cool rapidly across the sands of the Mojave. All you managed to grab was a pair of beat up, old jeans and a tank top, so as soon as the sun set, the chill set in. As you both set up camp for the night just outside of an abandoned rest stop, you started a fire to cook some of that stew you talked about being good at. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good, likely the best thing he’s had since before the bombs went off. Though even the kindling fire couldn’t manage to chase the chill away, watching you run your hands up and down your arms to try and warm up some by it. He felt a slight pang in his heart, watching you shiver like that, how your eyes lit up by the blaze of the fire and your hair seemed to be tousled just right. You were pretty, too pretty to be trekking this wasteland, and certainly too pretty to be trekking it with him of all people as your company. Even he had a heart still, as cold as it was, so out of kindness he shrugged his duster from his shoulders, draping it around you. You looked at the fabric pooled around you, pulling it over you better before looking to him as he sat down across from you again. “Ain’t no use if the cold gets ya” he said, making you smile appreciatively at him as you realized what he did. “Thank you” you replied, a slight blush fanning to your cheeks as the chattering of your teeth finally died down and you grew warmer. It smelled like him, sure it had splatters of old dried blood and was rather worn, but it had that gunpowder and smoke smell to it that you associated with him. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya” he replied, trying to sound cold but it didn’t come off that way, making you chuckle. “What do I owe you?” You asked, making him fall silent for a moment as he pondered the answer to your question. He looked you over for a second before tipping his hat down to cover his face a bit, the signal that he was about to try and get some sleep. “Just keep watch for a bit, I’ll be up in a few hours” he responded, and while it wasn’t what you were expecting, you’d take it.

He was startled awake a couple hours later when he heard a commotion, you yelling at someone telling them to back off that this place had been claimed. The raider you were up against didn’t seem to like that very much, claiming that wasn’t how it worked up here. The altercation took a turn for the worst when the man reached for his gun but you were quick to fire and kill him before he could let out a shot. A shaky feeling set in your hands and a horrified expression across your face at the realization that you just killed someone. Cooper, who was certainly wide awake now, was rather impressed by your quick timing and precision, coming up behind you to lay a gloved hand to your shoulder. “Well would ya look at that, looks like them lessons been payin’ off after all. How’s it feel?” He asked, looking down at you as you stared at the gun in your hands. “He was yelling at me but…he was aiming at you. I don’t really know what came over me, I didn’t like that he was going to shoot you so I just…I killed him” you said, recounting the encounter to him as if he hadn’t seen it himself. He didn’t really know what to think in that moment as you explained how your mind worked, he was proud for sure at your show of improvement with a gun, yet also touched at the same time. No one ever really looked out for him since he started his bounty hunting, he was a well hated man by many but you defended him without really any reason to. You’d just learned his name not but two weeks ago, and before that he was dragging you around with rope yet you still defended him, had you two really gotten closer in the time that’s passed since? He wasn’t sure, but it was something he could mull over while you were sleeping. “Get some rest vaultie, sun’ll be up soon” he said, knowing you likely wouldn’t get much sleep with the adrenaline still coursing through you, but it was at least worth a try, you two had a long day ahead of you.

When you woke up that next morning, things felt a little different between you two. You weren’t some annoying little dog following him anymore, you were an equal. He no longer looked at you and treated you like you were lower than him as you both set out across the wastelands, he had respect for you. Hell, he even started talking with you now when you were out traveling which was almost unbelievable. You learned through those conversations that he used to be an actor in Wild West themed films, explaining his outfit, and that he was married before the bombs dropped. You of course told him bits and pieces about yourself in exchange, after all it only felt fair but it was also nice to just finally talk to someone after all this time.

When night time fell again you two sat enjoying a meal by the fire together, only rather than across from each other, he sat next to you, making a blush come to your face as you’d smiled sweetly at him. “Glad to know I don’t have germs anymore” you said jokingly, making him chuckle. “Give an old man some credit. It ain’t exactly all peaches and marmalade out here darlin’, even cute can be deadly” he said, the nickname and him calling you cute sending a deeper blush to your cheeks despite knowing it’s just how he spoke. Whether it was the lack of contact with other people for so long, or just his charm you couldn’t quite tell, but it always seemed to have an effect on you. “Just teasin’ you, I get it. I’d tie me up and use me for bait too if I’d been doing this as long as you have. It’s a shit hole out here” you said, making him look at you as you dropped the first curse word he’s ever heard from you. “Well I’ll be damned, either I’m a bad influence or you’re finally growin’ outta that naive shell there, vaultie” Cooper replied, making you laugh as you saw a smirk stretch to his thin, marred lips, the first one you’d seen in a while that wasn’t brought on by drugs, chems or that first sip of a good bottle of alcohol. “Probably both” you quipped, making him chuckle. “Yeah, probably. Been told I ain’t easy to stomach” he said, making you hum. “You’re alright in my book, Coop” you replied with a sweet, genuine smile that matched your tone and was that butterflies you felt in your stomach? Did you just call him Coop? No ones called him that in ages, why did it make his heart start to flutter a bit? “You ain’t so bad yourself, vaultie” he responded, still affording you that small smile before turning back to his food. “Keep making food this good and I just might have to keep you around” he joked, making you giggle and break the slightly tense silence. “It’s not much but I certainly try. I’ll definitely make sure to stay good at it, I like traveling with you” you said, unintentionally coming off flirtatious and fuck there it goes again, that feeling in his chest and his stomach like he needed to hit his inhaler but he felt great. What were you doing to him?

“Hey, if it isn’t too much can I ask you a sort of…personal question?” You asked, holding the beat up bowl in your hands as you looked over at him. This was normally the part where he would say no, absolutely not, he wasn’t here to be questioned on his personal matters. Yet, with you, it was different. Ever since last night he hasn’t been so on edge with you, it was like he’d warmed up to you. “Depends on what you’re askin’ there, sweetheart” he said, the nickname once again making you blush. “Do you…miss them? Your wife and daughter?” You asked, not sure if it was a good subject or good question to ask but after finding out, you were genuinely curious. He looked down at his bowl again, thinking of the proper response to your question. The old him would have been defensive, told you it was none of your business, but now? He wasn’t sure. “Ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ‘em. About the way I ran out on ‘em when them bombs dropped” he answered, making you give him a sad look as genuine guilt filled his tone. This was the most honest and open he’s been with you this whole time. “I feel guilty. Not sure if I feel guilty for runnin’ out and leavin’ ‘em behind or guilty for the way I ran out, been tryin’ t’ figure that out for quite a while now and I still ain’t sure” he added, and you sympathized with that. Everyone has regrets, things they’ve done in the past that they aren’t proud of, people up here were no different in that aspect. “Well, in the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve come to understand that everything you do has a valid reason behind it. So even if you feel it was a shitty thing to do, you obviously had a reason for doing so. No one can blame you for trusting your gut, and I don’t think you should blame yourself for doing so” you responded, your hand falling to his as a comforting gesture, your words ringing in his head almost as if you’d opened something in his mind, something he’d never really gave himself to think about before. He looked down at your hand that rested on his, noticing the way you didn’t flinch away from him like others did, the way you were brave enough to walk up to him, talk to him, *trust* him when he made it very clear that you shouldn’t. It was smaller than his, softer for sure, but warm all the same, then he looked up to see that caring look in your eyes and smile on your face that told him that you cared. “Guess you’re right, still wonder sometimes if it was the right choice to make” he replied. “I understand. Everyone has regrets, we all look at the past and hold at least something that we’ve done before in regret, it’s what makes us human” you said, making him give a huff as a chuckle. “You got anybody?” He asked, making you look down as you moved your feet along the dirt. “An ex-husband, but not anyone I really care about, no. My parents passed a few years before the bombings and he and I split up when I caught him cheating on me with some other woman in the vault..” you explained, not sure why it hurt you to tell the tale still, but you felt it was only fair considering what you’d asked of him to share. “Sorry t’ hear that” Cooper said, making you chuckle weakly, a somber look coming to your face that made his heart wrench. “I haven’t exactly been in love since, and considering he and I split up just a little over ten years ago, really says something I guess, huh?” You asked, trying to laugh to bring up the mood, knowing you sounded pathetic. “He was the fool, not you darlin’. He was the one skippin’ out on one hell of a woman” Cooper said, making you look to him and blush a bit as you gave a chuckle at his response.

“Thanks” you replied appreciatively and with a smile before casting your gaze down to see your hands were still connected and it left you blushing harder with embarrassment, you’d been holding his hand this entire time without realizing it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I have I-“ “relax vaultie” he cut you off, pushing your hand back down onto his to assure you that he was far from uncomfortable. “It’s…rather nice actually” he admitted, making you feel relieved but your heart fluttered in your chest from it. A thick tension soon began to set in between you both after that night, something of an unspoken, kindling romance beginning to develop. “Then there it can stay” you said, making him smile softly at you, tipping his hat at you as a silent thank you.

Months passed on like this, where you’d spend the days scavenging, picking the land for its resources you could find and hunting bounties by day, then spending your nights by a fire growing closer and closer with every passing day. Through your shared meals, jokes, deep conversations, and plenty of near death experiences, you started to notice your fondness of the ghoul you traveled with. The way you’d hang onto his words with that southern accent that seemed to pull at your heart strings, or the way you’d go out of your way to stand between him and a stray bullet. You’d helped him on more than one occasion in getting out of a sticky spot, or getting him the stuff he needed to keep from turning feral. In return, he started to notice he was feeling the same towards you. There was this sudden need to keep you safe, to do nicer things for you, to speak better towards you, even flirt with you at times. Some nights there’d be so much tension in the air, it’s a miracle you haven’t jumped each other yet. Though in his eyes, as much as his heart yearned for you, he knew you were too good for him. You’d been hurt before, and he had a reputation for hurting people, feeling undeserving of even just the sweet smiles and company you afford him even now. You didn’t need someone like him, you needed a good man, someone who didn’t kill for a living, someone who could treat you right, someone who didn’t look the way he did. You were soft and warm, he was rough and cold, though he supposed that’s where the term “opposites attract” came from. So even when he was a whole bottle deep, he was sure to hold his tongue to a certain point.

Some of those nights around the fire were spent sober, others not so much, and this night happened to be one of those nights spent under the influence. You two had stumbled across a mini-mart, doing your best to out run the radstorm that had been trailing you guys for hours, coming in just to find whatever supplies you could to make it through the next week and possibly hunker down for the night. So imagine your surprise when you seemed to have found the largest chem stache you’d both ever laid eyes on. “Coop! Come here, you gotta see this” you said, making him run towards you to make sure you weren’t hurt or in trouble. His nerves were eased once he saw you, fully intact. “Tell me I’m not seeing shit” you said, pointing to all of the supplies sitting in a box on the table, joined by other supplies around it. You both looked at each other in complete and utter disbelief, this would keep you stocked for months, maybe even a whole year if you conserved it well. “Well ain’t that just the prettiest fuckin’ sight” he said. There was no way a horde of chems this large and this valuable was just completely unprotected you reasoned, so you routed around the place, scoping out for any raiders, straggling traders or ferals who happened to still be around. It was as if heaven was shining down on you both as you found no one around, seemed like no one had been here for days. So you did the most logical thing anyone would do in this situation. Stuff each of your bags to the brim of drugs of all varieties! Seeing as you had food, chems and even some clean water and alcohol lying around, Cooper locked and barricaded the door shut, proposing it could be a good spot to sleep for the night. With a radstorm approaching, it was best to have a roof over your heads to keep out the rain and potential radiation sickness that came with it. “This is the closest fuckin’ thing to a slice of heaven I’ve seen in ages” he said, aside from you is what played in his mind but he couldn’t speak that out loud, no matter how much he wanted to. “You said it!” you replied, and it’s even better with you here you thought, but thought it best to keep it to yourself. He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up to rest on the small table that seemed to be in shambles, enjoying a tape that was playing on the TV that he was surprised to still see functioning. “Holy shit, this thing still works?” You asked, amazed to see working technology out in the wastelands, sitting next to him as you watched it with him. He gave a smirk at your reaction, thinking it was cute the way your eyes would light up when you got all excited over something. Deep down it made him want to give you everything you laid eyes on like that just to see it pointed towards him. “Guess so” he replied, enjoying your excitement only to see you turn and look his way, which was his signal to stop staring holes into you before he gets caught. “I dunno about you baby doll, but I ain’t about to spend tonight sober with this stache sittin’ here ‘n front of us” he said, making you laugh as he routed through all the different drugs and chems til he found what he was looking for.

In the process of searching through it all, a small metal box fell to the floor at your feet. It looked like a box of mentats only the design was different, instead of the characteristic green and white box was a red one covered with hearts labeled DN-Chem. You supposed the worst that could happen was turn into the man sitting next to you, which you figured wasn’t the worst fate to succumb to all things considered, so you went against all better judgement and said fuck it, popping two of the mentat like chems and chasing it with the vodka he’d found to wait for it to take effect. “The hell is DN?” He asked, looking at the box, wondering what it was you took. “Don’t know, guess we’ll find out here soon because I took two” you said, taking another sip from the bottle of vodka he passed your way, and he gave a chuckle as you handed it back to him. “You come a mighty long way, little lady” he commented before setting the metal pill box down. He took the bottle from you, taking a swig, then placing one of the small viles into his inhaler before taking a hit of it then lying back, breathing a sigh of relief as it and the alcohol entered his system like the perfect remedy to any ailment. As about a half an hour rolled by, you waited for the high to set in but it never came, instead you were just getting hot, like really hot. There weren’t any windows open, and it was night time so you shouldn’t be this uncomfortably hot for how it was but you felt like you were on fire. “Shit, it’s hot as hell in here…” you complained, shaking off your jacket that you’d picked off of some raider a few weeks back, making him look to you curiously. “Lightweight” he quipped, making you chuckle. “Accept I don’t feel anything, I just feel hot” you said, making him hum with intrigue before turning back to the TV. “Give it some time, you’re new to all this. ‘m sure your body is wonderin’ what the hell you just put in it” he said, and he had a good point, maybe it was just a side effect of not doing them so often compared to his every day use.

As time went on, you began to notice the way your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to him, more specifically glued to the way his legs were now spread as he sat back. You wondered to yourself what he looked like beneath all that cowboy get up, what his reaction would be like to see you getting on your knees for him and slotting yourself between his spread legs. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of such inappropriate thoughts, but what you couldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried was the feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. Sure he flirted with you every now and again, but you doubt he felt towards you the same way you did for him. To him you were sure you were likely more akin to a pet than a friend, useful and nice to have around, but not anything further. At least so you thought. You’d rather hoped you were wrong in assuming so, that maybe he saw you the same way you saw him. You bit your lip as you tried bouncing your leg to relieve the ache between your thighs, a light pink dusting your face and neck even up to the tips of your ears, but nothing worked. Even as you closed your eyes, all you could picture was you laid out on the couch beneath him, or bent over it with him behind you, or you riding him on it. “Been awful quiet. You doin’ alright over there, sweetheart?” Cooper asked you, and the audible whimper you let out from the nickname left you completely embarrassed. You clasped a hand over your mouth, god you were horrified but he gave a grin and a chuckle in response. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me all the sudden. I feel so…weird?” you said, unsure if that was really the proper word to explain it but it was the only way you could really word it off the top of your head with how much your brain felt as if it was turning to mush. “Ya took some chems, it’s gonna feel a bit fuzzy” he said, trying to assure you that feeling a little funny was normal, but this? This didn’t feel normal, not even for a chem high. You tried your best to swallow harshly, doing everything you could to try and relieve the dry ache you felt in your throat at the moment upon looking at him. You grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a few sips but even that couldn’t grant you bliss from it. The throbbing in your core was driving you absolutely insane. You swore up and down that it was like you could feel your heartbeat in your chest, stomach, and in your cunt all at the same time. “No, this is different…I don’t think what I took was a normal chem, Coop…” you said, trying not to panic at the effects that were setting in but god you felt like you were absolutely feral. He turned to look at you, watching as you clamped your thighs together and the red that fell over your face. “I feel like an animal in heat” you said bluntly, making him go into a near coughing fit as you took him off guard. However that piqued his interest enough to pick up the little metal box again to see what it was you took. “I ain’t ever heard of a chem that does that, was that DN shit the only stuff you took?” He asked, growing slightly concerned for you and whether he had a possible horde of laced chems, or just an extremely horny woman on his hands. Speaking of hands, you were lost in thought staring at them, at the way they gripped the couch like you wanted him to grip your thighs, at the way they looked in those leather gloves he always wore. You wondered how it would feel wrapped around your throat, or how it would feel if his fingers were buried deep inside of you. Shit. This was getting out of control.

“Hey, ya with me still?” He asked, snapping to try and get your attention back on the matter at hand, making you shake your head yes as you broke from your perverted thoughts. “Is that DN shit the only thing you took?” He asked again, making you shake your head yes once more, because you knew damn well your voice was going to betray you the moment you tried to speak. That had to be it, it was the only thing that was different out of it all and the only thing he’d never heard of before. He knew it wasn’t the vodka either because he was drinking it with you, so if it was affecting you, it would have affected him and it hadn’t.

It took him a minute to put two and two together before he finally realized the abbreviations stood for Date Night, reading the instructions and effects on the inside of the tin’s lid. “Shit..” he said as he read it, realizing this was a hand made thing thrown into the bunch by whoever was running this place. “Did you read the lid before you popped them pills?” He asked, making you go wide eyed. As if this couldn’t get any fucking worse, this shit show could have been avoided had you just read the inside of the lid. “There was instructions?? Oh my god…what the fuck did I take?” You asked, concerned for yourself and the tone he had while reading it. “Somethin’ that the creator of it called Date Night. Looks like it’s a…well looks like it’s a handmade sex chem” he said, making you cover your face with your hands out of sheer embarrassment, you’d never wanted to die out in a radstorm more than you did right now. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking, cooper…” you whined, watching him read it more. “How much of it did you take?” He asked, almost scared to know and you were scared to know why. “Two?” You replied, making him whistle at that as he read it. “Fuckin’ hell sugar..” he said through a chuckle, and that nickname made a shiver run through you, sending electric bolts straight to your throbbing cunt. You did your best to bite back the whimper. “You’re only s’possed take one, and with you bein’ new t’ all this, I wouldn’t have taken more than half” he said, making you just wish you could just dig a hole and die in it already. “Fuck me…wait, shit! N-Not literally fuck me I- well I mean I’d like if you did but…FUCK! Forgive me Cooper, I’m so sorry, I can hardly think straight” you said, making him chuckle. “Well sweetheart, I think you and I both know there’s only one good fix for this situation” he said, making you whimper pathetically at the thought, your thighs squeezing together even more as you tried to fight to stay sane. Your eyes cast downwards to his lap once more, seeing the tent forming in his pants, clearly you weren’t the only one all worked up here. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, Coop. I can run off and take care of myself if it makes you uncomfort-“ you rambled but before you could finish, his hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. You moaned into it without meaning to, feeling the way your body immediately relaxed upon wrapping your arms around him with no hesitation as the sweet innocent kiss turned passionate and dirty rather quickly.

“I won’t lie t’ you, doin’ this with you has passed my mind more times than I’d care to admit, but I don’t wanna cross that line unless you really want this” he said, looking into your eyes and making sure that this was truly what you wanted, that you felt the same way he did. “Coop, I know I’m under the influence of whatever the fuck this drug is, but trust me when I say, I’d be just as good with it sober. Been thinking about it for probably just as long as you have, if I’m honest with you. I want this, I want you and right now I want you so fucking bad that I might lose my mind if you don’t fuck me” you answered bluntly, taking him by surprise at just the sheer amount of absolute filth that left your otherwise innocent mouth, making him chuckle at your use of curse words and how desperate you were for him. “That so sugar?” He asked with a grin, enjoying teasing you at your neediest moments, including now. “God yes, Cooper please..” you begged, nearly moaning in reply and he’d spent time mulling over it before, denying himself the chance but just as the chem stache was a pot of gold, he took this as one of the best opportunities being placed in his lap by whatever higher power existed out there, making him waste no time in kissing you once more. “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back once we’ve started” he said, and the idea made you moan. “Don’t want you to hold back, want all of you” you said, and your wish was his command.

By the time your brain could finally catch up with you again, your clothes were strewn out all around you, your tank top hanging over the back of the couch, your jeans thrown haphazardly on the arm rest behind you, his pants on the floor, his hat on the table and shirt and duster having fallen somewhere behind the couch. By now, you’d already cum on his fingers twice, and on his cock once, this was your fourth round and this shit still had you on fire. “Yes!! Oh fuck, Cooper!” you moaned as your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close to you as you could get, your fingers digging crescent shapes and puffy red lines into his back that unfortunately he knew wouldn’t stay long thanks to his ability to heal stupidly fast. “Doin’ so good for me, baby doll. Look so pretty like this for me, all splayed out like a needy little whore” he praised and degraded through his groans, making you moan and roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise mixed with degradation as his cock was drilling deep inside you like tonight was all you guys had. “Yeah, you like that, huh sweet thing? Like it when I tell you how good it feels and call you names?” He asked, making you nod your head yes because there wasn’t a single thought in that brain of yours other than his name, which you spoke like a mantra. “Never knew such a sweet lil’ thing like you would be such a dirty little minx. Fuck…enough to make a man like me go feral, ya know that?” he said, making you giggle as you moved his free hand up to your throat, urging him to choke you, and he groaned at the sight. Your kiss swollen lips all puffy and shining with spit, your cheeks dusted a constant pink that grew darker anytime his cock brushed that spot deep inside that made you cling to him, your eyes half lidded, looking up at him like he was your savior. It made him absolutely rock hard knowing you’d pick him over anyone else in this god forsaken wasteland. “My, you are just a little freak, ain’t you? Oh we are gonna have fun together, you and me honey” he promised, squeezing your throat tight enough to restrict your airflow but not enough to hurt or cause any damage. Just enough to get that puddle of a brain of yours all fuzzy as you got closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. “Cooper…’m so close, so close please!!” You begged, feeling the heavy drag of his cock as he pounded into you, leaving you damn near screaming as it nudged your cervix and that spongy little bundle of nerves deep inside. “Go on honey, I gotchya. Let go for me, wanna see those pretty faces and hear those pretty noises you make” he said, angling his hips just right to hit that spot over and over again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum again, I-“ you warned before your moans rose in pitch as your walls clamped around him, gushing on his cock as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body arched off the couch, stars filling your vision for a moment as you felt your release gush out and coat your inner thighs, screaming his name like it was your only chance at salvation. “Well ain’t I just the damn luckiest man in the wastelands right now, got me a pretty little vaultie and she’s a gusher” he said, making you whimper at his teasing but judging by the way he emptied himself inside you for the second time, you took it as a sign that he liked that about you. “Holy shit, I-I didn’t know I could do that” you said, thoroughly shocked with what your brain and body were doing as they almost seemed to almost be working against each other. “Do it again for me” he said, grabbing you and moving you both to where you were straddling him this time. His hands rested on your hips, helping guide you as you speared yourself on his dick with ease from how absolutely soaked you were, making you both throw your head back and moan. “Now that’s a damn good sight” he said, making you lean in to kiss him once more as his hands helped you start and keep a steady rhythm with your hips. It was definitely going to be a long night, but one you two have been needing for months, maybe even longer.

It’s a good thing ghouls have remarkable recovery time, because in order to finally get you sated and back to normal, you both had to spend all night going at it. Granted, it was aided by the mix of pent up sexual tension and pent up sexual frustration, but it was dawn before you both had gotten to a point where you could even *try* and fall sleep. First few times was on the couch between missionary, doggy and you riding him, next was you bent over it, with your pretty legs spread and ass in the air for him. Then, you used the arm rest of the couch as a pillow beneath your hips as he stood up while you laid out on the couch. He liked that one a lot for the way your tits would bounce with each and every forceful thrust into you, jolting your body. After that, it was done standing up with your back pressed against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around him to keep him deep inside of you and fill you til he had nothing left to give you. From that point on, the rest of the night was all a hormone-hazed blur, but you knew well that he took care of you. You woke up unbelievably sore, your joints aching in places that you had no idea could even ache, a swollen, angry throb between your legs for the harsh, almost punishing treatment to your pussy followed by bruises, bite marks, scratch marks, hand prints etc. littered your skin as you woke up curled into Cooper’s side. You gave a gravelly groan as the sun shone in your eyes through the windows, making him chuckle at the way you were such a ray of sunshine except in the morning. Coming to learn that you absolutely *hated* mornings. Though you suppose you started to enjoy them more since traveling with him. “Mornin’ sunshine” he said coyly, making you groan disapprovingly at the way the sun was in your eyes, making you hold your hand up to cast a shadow on your face and grant you some relief. “Morning” you answered, your voice hoarse and half gone from sleep and all your activities that transpired the previous night. “Ain’t that a pretty sight” he said, turning and seeing you curled up to him, naked, your hair all messy from sleep and the hickeys and bite marks littering your skin, making you chuckle. “Last night was definitely something, can’t believe you’ve been holding all *that* out on me” you joked, making him give a dry laugh. “Could say the same thing about you, sugar. Had no idea that mind a yours could be so filthy. You’re a wild thing to party with, lil’ lady” he teased, sliding his arm around you to keep you close, making you hum as you lay soft, appreciative kisses to his collarbone and chest. “You’re fun too, and thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry that it ended up happening the way that it did, I wanted to work up the courage and tell you some other way, I really did, but I guess life had other plans” you said making him chuckle as he saw you blush when he kissed your head. “Drunk words are sober thoughts they say, so I’d say I made out pretty good. But don’t sweat it, not sure how I deserved someone as good as you, but it’s good to know I ain’t as hard to stomach as most people say” he said, pulling you in for a soft, heartfelt kiss. “I think you are just perfect, Cooper” you said, your hand resting on his scarred chest as you looked at him with that gaze he swore he’d do anything to see pointed his way.

“You really wanna be my girl?” He asked softly, sounding shocked and with some self doubt still lacing his tone, but he had to be sure this was what you wanted outside of the drug’s effects. He cared for you deeply, in a way that he hasn’t felt in a very long time, but maybe you were just the right person for him to finally open his heart up to. His question made you giggle as your heart fluttered in your chest with excitement. “I absolutely do, I meant it when I said it last night, I mean it just as much now. I think we’ve danced around it for long enough, don’t you?” you replied, making him smile the most genuinely happy smile you’ve seen him wear since you’d met. “Just checkin’” he said, before laying a sweet kiss to your lips, wishing every morning could be like this one. Maybe it could, now that you were here with him.

[moonstruckme]

a thought:

reader is literally so grouchy and bratty and tired and is accidentally snapping at (whoever u want) and thennn they take initiative to casual dominance her to take a nap after some tea and it’s just so crazy fluffy!!!

Thanks for requesting!

cw: d/s dynamics

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 708 words

You’d claimed to want to read with Remus on the couch, but you keep huffing like your book is your least favorite thing in the world. Remus wraps a hand around your thigh, rubbing a slow back and forth with his thumb in an attempt to pacify you. He knows precisely what this mood is about. 

“Ugh, this construction noise is the worst!” You glare out the window as if hoping the men across the street will see. 

“Why don’t you use my headphones and try to have a nap, dove,” Remus suggests mildly. “You didn’t get much sleep last night, sounds like it’s catching up to you.” 

You bristle at the implication. “I’m not tired, I’m just sick of this. Nobody asked for the road to be redone. It was perfectly fine before.” 

Remus shoots you a sideways look. The road outside your house was riddled with potholes, and you both know it. If you were in a better mood, you’d be baking cookies for the construction workers to thank them. 

You ignore it, huffing again. “I’m gonna get some dinner,” you say, setting your book down roughly as you stand. 

“Last night’s leftovers are in the fridge.” 

“Don’t feel like those.” 

Remus gives your bum a light swat through your sweatpants as you go by. “Eat something real,” he warns. 

You make a vexed harrumphing sound. He chooses not to hear it. 

What he does hear, less than a minute later, is popcorn popping in the microwave. Remus sighs through his nose, tenting his book on the coffee table and pursuing you into the kitchen. You don’t turn around as his footsteps approach. 

“Dove.” Remus takes your hips, turning you manually. “That’s not a real dinner.” 

You shrug, obstinate. Your stare looks like you’re itching for a fight. “It’s what I feel like.” 

“You haven’t had anything with a vegetable in it all day. You need to pick something else.” 

You roll your eyes, turning back around. Ignoring him. Remus hits the button to shut off the microwave. 

You spin back around, eyes flashing. “You can’t—” 

“That’s enough.” He takes your jaw in his hand, your chin resting at the apex of his thumb and forefinger. “You’re being a brat,” he says in a low, steady voice, “because you’re sleepy and probably because you haven’t eaten a real meal since yesterday. That stops now. You’re going to eat the dinner you made yesterday, which you liked, and then go have a nap. Understand?” 

Remus isn’t really irritated with you. You’re being unruly, sure, but these moods always end once you get what you’re looking for from him. Now he’s given you it, you’ll calm down. 

It’s fucking precious, the way your temper melts away under his hard gaze. Your eyes round out and your head sits heavier in his hand, remorse finding its way into your expression. 

“Sorry,” you say, tone about ten degrees milder than it had just been. 

Remus rolls his eyes at you, squishing your cheeks between his fingers. “I know, darling. You can still make it up to me. Heat up those leftovers, okay?” 

You hum, and he lets you go, kissing the hill of your cheek. 

A minute later, you join him in the living room, curling up next to him on the couch while you eat and he reads. Your posture is already less rigid, the both of you enveloped in companionable silence and the smell of warm food. Your fork clinks as you set your plate down on the coffee table, and when you don’t get up to go to bed, Remus looks over at you. Your eyes are already on him, a question in them.

He fights to repress the smile that curves his lips. “What?” 

“Can I sleep here?” you ask hopefully. “Would it distract you if I put my head on your lap?” 

Remus coos. “No, sweetheart, of course you can.” 

“Are you sure?” you ask, though you’re already lying down, him uncrossing his legs to make his lap more comfortable for you. “You’re not still mad at me?” 

He tsks, petting your hair while you get comfortable. “I’m not. Wanna know a secret?” 

You hum, eyes already closing. 

“I’m never really mad at you, dove.”

[s0dium]

PEEPING TOM

A/n: Its good to be back, I also will be doing kink tober! Yay!

Synopsis: In which you find a peephole in your wall, allowing you to spy on your neighbor Gojo Satoru

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Peeping Tom, mutual masturbation, masturbation, slight dub-con, cervix fucking, unprotected sex, breeding, Dom!Gojo, fingering, rough sex

MINORS DNI

~

The first time it happened, it was an accident.

It was day numero uno in your new dorm at Tokyo Jujutsu High. You were hesitant at first enrolling, being suddenly uprooted from an overall normal life into a world of curses and sorcerers was a, well, definitely a shocking experience for you. In fact, today was a boring blur for you, by the time you were done moving in it was nightfall and the only people you met were principle yaga and an old guy.

So you didn't expect the most exciting part of your day would be finding a peep hole right at eye view of you when you sat up on your bed. 

Of course you pay no attention to it, this was a pretty old Japanese building after all. It was when you were searching up what the hell “spackle was” when you heard a loud “FUCK” coming from the other side of the wall. 

Well that's interesting.

You know it's wrong, you wouldn't want peering in on you. But curiosity got the better of you as you sat down on your bed and aligned your eye with the hole. 

From what you could see, your nameless neighbors room was pretty neat, but your mind went completely blank when a set of abs came into your vision, followed by the side profile of one of the most handsome white haired man you had ever seen.

So yeah, the first time you peeped on your neighbor was a mistake. 

The second time. Not so much. 

~

"Hey! My name is y/n l/n im your neighbor"

Piercing blue eyes look you up and down and your breath catches in your throat. His eyes, framed by a shock of defiantly white hair, hold a mysterious depth that seems to invite you into an endless ocean of secrets. They twinkle with a mischievous glint.  His lips, full and inviting, flash you a devilish smile that hints at an irreverent sense of humor. The white hair man leans on the door frame.

“Ahh so your the new girl”

You gulp, trying to keep your eyes from raking over his well built body that were sporting sweat pants that rode just slightly low on his hips and a black shirt that exposed the tone muscles of his arms. 

Lawd have mercy, we must stay focused, we must stay focused. 

"Yeah uh, I just wanted to get your name, you know, since we are gonna be neighbors and all….." You trail off at the end, fiddling with the ends of your uniform skirt.

You can feel his eyes bore into your head as you averted his gaze. He chuckles and blows out air from his nose in amusement.

“Gojo satoru. You can call me Satoru, since you know, we are going to be neighbors and all” He almost coos mockingly.

You nod and hold out your hand.

“Nice to meet you Satoru.”

~

For the next two weeks you find yourself slowly adjusting into your new life. You spend most of your time either training or hanging out with your new friend Shoko, since you are deemed ‘too new’ for any missions which is fine by you. During this your interactions and conversations with Gojo are kept rather short. You laugh at the jokes he and Geto come up with during class, roll your eyes at the snarky comments he makes about how ‘new’ you are, and occasionally even give him a smile in the hall. But for some reason you can't seem to get him out of your head; your eyes often wandering to stare at the back of his white hair during lessons, watching how his long digits gracefully twirl a pencil around, finding yourself wondering what else he can do with those fingers.

And it is for those very reasons you find yourself lying in your bed, unable to sleep.

Huffing, you sat up in your bed and turned on the light on your night stand. As you leaned toward the wall to grab your phone, that’s when you heard it. 

A faint groan. 

….

You shouldn’t.

It's wrong. You already peeped once, and that’s enough. 

But god, curiosity is killing you right now. It was eating away at your brain like termites and you couldn’t seem to let the question go. 

So you made a promise. One look. One final quick last look and that would be it. 

Oh how curiosity killed the cat. 

The moment your eye was aligned with the hole, your mind went blank and in front of you was a sight ever to behold.

There on white bed sheets was Gojo, shirtless, sweatpants slightly lowered furiously fisting his dick. For a couple seconds, you couldn't seem to take your eyes off of him; how beautiful he looked with his head thrown back, the glide of his hand up and down his long dick and how the top of his fist captured his redish pink tip with every thrust. 

Once the initial shock was over you immediately pulled away, hand covering your mouth to silence your gasp. You should've never looked, never crossed the threshold between curiosity and invasion of privacy. But as you move away to go back to sleep and forget all about this, you wince.

Oh no.

An all too familiar ache has started to form between your thighs and you felt your stomach twist into knots and form into a million butterflies. Frantically, you pull down your short, silently cursing when your eyes are met with a small damp stain at the base of your underwear. 

This couldn't be happening. Quickly you crawled back under your covers and turned off the lights, praying that the feeling would go away. Surprise surprise, it didnt. 

Biting your lip, you grabbed a pillow and placed it between your legs, squeezing your thighs together. A couple seconds later without realizing it you had started to slowly roll your hips on the soft object, desperately seeking some way to alleviate your pain. 

But it seemed like that only made things worse. 

Your skin was buzzing, and your breaths had turned deep and heavy. The slick accumulating in your cunt has started to become borderline uncomfortable and the twisting in your stomach didnt seem to cease. You needed release. 

One more look. One more look than one orgasm and thats it. 

Frantically you crawled back to the small hole, letting out a soft whimper when you're met with the sight again. This time his eyes were squeezed shut, and white substance filled the space between his fingers as he hurriedly fisted himself. Without even thinking, you slipped a hand under your underwear and letting out a sigh of relief when your index finger came in contact with your clit. 

Quick, you'd make this quick.

Using your wetness, you began to circle your finger around the nerve, falling into a slow rythm. You tried your best to cover the wet clicking sounds coming from your ministrations, but after a couple minutes you couldnt see to care any more. You let your mind drift to thoughts of Satoru. How would he look above you, sweaty and in euphoria? Oh you bet his dick would feel so good inside of you, fill you up and hit all the right places. Fuck it you'd probably let him cum in you, spill his seed in your cunt and fill you up over and over again.

Your movements had become frantic now as you desperately chased your orgasm and from what you could tell it seemed like he was getting close too. You had to cover your mouth with your hand to suppress the moans and your thighs started to tremble as you got closer to finishing. Suddenly, your stomach dipped and tightened as a surge of mind numbing pleasure took over you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and mouth falling agape. 

After a couple seconds passed, you were left panting and you dazedly glanced back through the hole to find that Satrou had also finished; white streams of cum painting his toned stomach and fist. 

You blink back the euphoria that slowly escaped your brain.

Ok. Never again. 

~

That was a lie. 

You started to pick up the fact that Gojo had a routine. He’d jack off once in the morning and once at night, and boy, where the sounds impossible to ignore. So, you started to fall into this routine with Gojo. On cue, when you heard his shaky breath and silent whimpers, your hand would automatically slip into your pants, circling around your wetness to the sound of his shaky sighs. On the days you slept through the ones in the morning and missed it as night as well, you’d touch yourself on your own time, cumming over and over again to the thought of Gojo pumping his thick cock in and out of you. 

You didn't know what the end goal was to this and hell you knew it was wrong. But the pleasure was too overwhelming, the sound of Gojo was too overwhelming, too damn compelling.

So here you were again, another night laying next to the peep hole, hand down your pants intently listening to the fast pap pap pap that came from the other side of the way. 

But something was different tonight. Your skin felt like it was on fire. Your walls pulsed and squeezed around nothing with every light rub for your clit. This was becoming dangerous, the pleasure was becoming too much, the thought of gojo fucking you was becoming too much. 

You let out a whine that comes out louder than expected but you can't seem to care. You dig your ass into the mattress and arch your back slightly. You're not thinking of your fingers as your own right no, no, they are Gojo’s long pale ones rubbing fast circles on your throbbing clit. His name falls from your mouth like a silent plea over and over, begging him to fuck you. You're so engrossed in the pleasure that it took you 20 seconds to fully realize that the sounds on the other side of the wall had stopped. Confused, you align your eye with the peep hole and a gasp rips out of your throat.

Instead of finding Gojo’s body layed out your met with the sight of another eye. A blue eye. Staring right back at you. 

You pull away from the wall and cover your mouth. Before you can even process a thought your door swings open and in steps the last person you wanted to see.

"You've been peeping on me." Gojo coos, a shit eating grin spread on his face. Hes disheveled, white hair tousled, black tank top slightly riding up and grey sweat pants riding down showing his white happy trail. But most notable was his hard dick pressing against the fabric of his pants, a slight stain adorning the material right where the tip is. 

"You've been peeping on me!!!" You stammer, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“Oh really? Is that the best defense you’ve got?” Gojo chuckles and rakes a hand through his white hair, taking a few steps closer to your bed.

“What are you doing? Get out!”

“Oh? Is that what you really want? You want me to leave?” Gojo is at the foot of your bed now, and your breathing becomes faster when he climbs on. “Because I can leave. I can leave and tell everyone what a little whore you’ve been, listening to me morning and night.”

“You-” You can't even finish your sentence because he's on top of you now, legs on either side of your body and you gaze up helplessly at him.

“Of course I noticed princess,why do you think I was doing it so much anyway?” He places his index under your face  and tilts your chin up so your lips align with his. “Loved hearing those whines…. Wanna hear more so badly” He murmurs before placing his lips onto yours. You sigh into the kiss, letting his warm tongue entangle into yours. He holds the back of your neck to deepen the kiss before peppering his lips along your jawline and your neck. A hand slips below your flimsy tank top and another pulls at the hem of your underwear. Before you know it your completely naked, your chest rising and falling and Gojos hungry eyes scan your body. 

He licks his lips.

“You gonna let me hear more?”

 You gasp when you feel a long finger slide down your slit connecting the wetness before dipping into your tight hole. Gojo leaned close to soothingly press dry lips to your temple. “Shh,” He whispered, the resulting puffs of air washing over the side of your face making you shake. “This your first time being touched like this baby?Or did you not know about this special little g-spot you’ve got right here?” 

Your toes curl when he touches a spot deep inside you that sends bolts of pleasure coursing through your brain. You don’t even notice that he’s pulling down his pants until he pulls his fingers away, a string of wetness connecting his digits with your pussy, and your eyes are met with the sight of his length.

You unconsciously buck your hips up at the sight of it, practically humping the air, and Gojo has to secure your hips down to the bed to prevent you from hurting yourself. You could hear your heart in your ears and adrenaline coursed through your veins at rocket fire speed. The need in between your legs was too much, it was clouding your head and twisting your stomach so tight you almost felt sick. You jolt when his fat tip bumps into your clit; collecting your juices before pressing against your quivering hole.

"Shhhh, we are going to have so much fun together baby.”

You're cut off by the feeling of his length spreading you so helplessly wide and his tip smashing against something which must be your cervix you think. It’s painful, but in the pain is so much pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours as he slides into you, gripping the sheets with his supporting hand as your hot, wet entrance swallows his cock. Instinctively, your cunt squeezed around the foreign intrusion, trying to push it out, making Gojo let oout a low groan of his own and pushing even deeper into you. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he said hoarsely.

“Satoru please-”

You dont get to finish the thought because Gojo pulls out and ram back into you with such fever everything goes blank for a second. His thrusts started out shallow and slow, testing the waters for how much he could get away with. What your limits were, and if you could fully take him for what he wanted. But that quickly changed to harsher thrusts, until he’s using you like his personal cock sleeve, shaping your insides and bruising your cervix until your entire body jolts with sensitivity.

Every thrust knocks the wind out of you, his tip smushing right against your cervix only to be pulled out and rammed back in again. And the sounds, god the sounds where sinful. Wet skin against skin echoed through the room the sloshing of cum 

 It was too much, the feeling of your wet gummy walls gripping him so tightly, fuck, his hand felt like sand paper compared to this, how was he able to fucking live without your pussy in the first place.  There was no way Gojo could stop now. His body had kicked into auto pilot, a primal need for you settled in as he thrusted in and out, creating a methodical fast rhythm that echoed in your ears. The sight of you right now, the feeling of your pussy clamped on his dick did not justice to the image his fucked his fist to. No, this was better, this was heaven.

“So good- don’t stop, please don’t stop!” your babbling strung out of your lips too absorbed in the thought of how god damn good he was fucking you, his thick cock driving in and out of your velvet walls. It was as if you were made for each other, your cunt sucking him in with each push and shove that hit at just the right spots.

“Say my name baby” he coos and an involuntary cry escapes your lips, a passionate fusion of pleasure and intensity. Amid the overwhelming waves of ecstasy that washed over you,  your mouth began to call out your boyfriend's name. Again and again.

“Beautiful girl, such a natural submissive” he whispered hoarsely. Your stomach coiled with anticipation, heat encircling your core like a tightening cord. Your senses tingled, your mind a haze of desire, all consuming thoughts centered around Gojos electrifying touch. You pressed back into him, arching off a second later and then your hips rocked down. Words became superfluous, you couldn't say anything, not with the way you were panting and twitching, so insanely close to your peak that you wouldn’t ruin it with your words.

“Do it,” Gojo said into your ear with conviction. “Wanna see you cum all over me, fu-fuck, been waiting for that.” 

His words seem to flip a switch in you. The heat on your stomach is unbearable, you can’t take it anymore, it’s consuming you, driving you over the edge so fast that you can’t put a stop on it. Your pussy tightens so hard around Gojos dick that he nearly has to stop his thrusts, your scream is muffled by a hand clamped over your mouth as you feel yourself splitting in two, coming with his cock buried deep inside you. Gojo doesnt stop, He fucks you hard into the futon; your eyes roll back, toes curling as waves of pleasure crash over you, your entire body trembles over his thrusts.

"Oh shit!" He gasps as your cunt clamps around him. He growls something unintelligible as his thrusts become erratic and sloppy. “"Gonna cum in you, gonna fill you up it's what you were made for- ah, fu-uck- cumming!" Gojo pressing him flush against you choking over his words as his hips sputter inside of you, hot cum fills you as much as you can hold inside of your stuffed cunny.

“Wa-wait! N-not ins-si-” You squeal but cut your self off when you feel something deliciously warm enter your battered pussy. You babbled and squirmed as it built and built and built, like there was a dam of his seed spurting into you. You unintentionally, probably instinctually, squeezed around him, drawing more out and he whined and murmured his praise. “Good girl, get as much as you can.” He petted circles over your stomach, over the bulge of where his cock and cum lay. “Such a pretty tummy….” You threw your face into your arms and shook.

The two of you stayed like that for a while–Gojo keeping you plugged with his cock while you both watched your breaths, listening to eachother and occasionally leaning in for a messy kiss.

“So, I guess we are both peeping toms then.”

A/N: Im too lazy to write an ending

[batbabydamian]

The Boy Wonder #1 by Juni Ba rambling about why every time i open this book, i stare in wonder...HAHA and ofc!! how cute Damian is!!

Juni Ba’s style is so absurdly effective in telling a fairy tale for the ages. It’s a stunning blend of simplicity and complexity I'M GRIPPING THE PAGES AGAINST MY EYES…

Before getting into the interiors, THE COVER!! It associates autumn leaves to Damian's Robin title through the iconic cape shape/color; and on top of that, for a Robin going through a big transition in his life...a season of change one might say...Juni Ba your brain...

Damian and the leaves being the only colored parts of this cover is nice in focusing on those elements, but i also like to think by not coloring the background it prepares you to expect impressive inkwork in this book.

On that note, the interiors!! Starting off with Ba's backgrounds of Gotham as it establishes the strange new world that our young hero has been thrust into:

We get a neat tracking shot following a champagne glass that gives us a glimpse of Gotham from the upper echelons to the downtrodden in "Underwell"

This opening sequence quickly lays out the environment Damian will be traveling through in this series! It also sets the tone for some silliness with the cute zoom on the champagne glass before it BOKs the robber lol. Along with Ba's inks, O'Halloran's colors makes every part of Gotham pop - especially love the golds of the higher society shifting into the blues of the underbelly!!

Besides Damian’s personal conflict, Gotham feels like its own entity that he has to contend with. The dialogue speaks for itself, but within the art as well!!

"This city of ours swallows and crushes everything it can" -> a gargoyle's beak over Damian, crowds of people, and walls of advertising

"You've seen it too...the way it coils around one's mind from below." -> bridges and a passing train on a rail viaduct towering over a civilian

"A dark voice calling as if to say..." -> literally, "FEED ME"

LOVELY SHOT OF MOVEMENT... and i love how Damian's venture into Gotham opens with him passing a tree - its branches and leaves are the most organic element on the page before getting into the gritty details of the city! Some yammering because the inks are. so cool: the delicate lines of the leaves in the tree to the thicker/bigger lined ones closer to the camera on the right; the background inks allowing space around Damian's form + the fine line of his grapple!! More O'Halloran praise - PRETTY, and love his coloring over Ba's bg lines, particularly here, keeping the leaves darker on the right.

It's not only a pretty page it's just a really clean layout!! Ba exhibits this throughout the book but i really enjoy it here - from Damian nyooming, we head into these last 3 panels. his cute lil "Robin" shape easily draws the eye to the tops of the panels as we take in Gotham's liveliness alongside the lettering/narration

and the "Robin" shape?? SO CUTE. it's instantly familiar to us as Robin!! bold outline and filled with yellow...it's a Robin in movement!!...AN AUTUMN LEAF IN THE WIND... yeah, still not over that 😭

Damian's inciting incident is introduced in the former panel with a gorgeous backdrop of Gotham in the distance (plus itty bitty Trinity cameo haha). The shot parallels!! beautifully!! in the final page!! Damian is now in the depths of Gotham, his objective out of reach. The colors are of note too, where the familiar yellows of Gotham are suddenly a startling green after the demon makes its appearance. The Gotham land looks even more unfamiliar, which prompts Damian to seek help.

Some speculation, but the green could also be associated with the more mythical side of demons and such (like the ghost?? of the thief), but it could even imply there's a connection to the Al Ghuls themselves as it's the only other time green is so prominently used.

Now that the land of Gotham is established, popping in other fav bgs!

More lovely mix of Ba's inks and O'Halloran's colors!! especially allowing some of the brush/marker strokes to show faintly as part of the twinkling sky...STUNNING!! 😭 i love this whole page but this panel gets me weepy, SMALL DAMIAN IN THE VAST UNIVERSE COMBINED WITH THIS LINE "He knew he could be great. How unfair of the world to make him feel so small." KICKS MY ASS... i need to lie down

YAPPING AT MORE WONDERFUL INKING: the suggestion of windows offscreen from the frames casting these thick lines over the walls and stairwell; the minute shadow details over the railing; the hatching on the suits in the portrait; the framed portrait being its own panel!! cute hooded Damian in the gutter space looking in on the portrait/panel!! CUTE HOODED DAMIANS!!

SPEAKING OF PANELS, along with general effectiveness and efficiency, there's more whimsy in others!! like this kickass page of Nightwing whipping his escrima from first panel -> afterimage lines going POWPOWPOW hitting demons from a distance to ones closer to the camera -> and back into his hand!! IT'S SO GOOD AND SO FUN!!

Ba's action employs more diagonal panels, and characters are less restrained within boxes - there's more energy and freedom across the page!

not necessarily focusing on the action for this one, but THE WHIMSY!! the border itself is goop!! Also gotta point out that looming hammer shape!!

Nightwing's critical hit spans the entire page!! from silhouettes of a flip -> flashy stomping pose/Clayface -> to a distant shot of Dick landing

and a smooth finisher page!! love the motion lines on Dick's arms and waist + his head and arc effects popping outside of the borders; then the smaller panels for quick activity, and the final WOOB WOOB WOOB LOL i can hear this sound effect just as much as i can see it

Along with O'Halloran on colors, Aditya Bidikar on lettering works seamlessly with Ba's vision!! The text boxes for the fairy tale narration are like strips of yellowing pages from an old storybook!! Had to look up the term for this lol, but also reminiscent of those storybooks, there's even a use of "drop caps" - the big fancy capital letter!

Smaller things of note, but the bit of "Weakness" text from Ra's has a kind of. grandiose feel to it. Then the cute B< Damian behind the window!! Love how the bubble and text are faded behind the glass too! The end of the bubble tail is a nice touch as it matches well with Ba's bg inking :0

Otherwise, it seems Ba has done a majority of the lettering - dropping a couple of my favs below!!

also just this whole page: the very loud AAAH! text draws both Damian's and the reader's attention to the panel below!! it's a cool transition to a new shot where you can see Damian's silhouette on the building! The final panel is cartoony violence off-page through the bold POW BOOM SLAM haha + DAMIAN'S LIL FIST!!🥺 and the guy's tooth RIP

Pure speculation - Juni Ba's concept art included Carrie Kelley, so i'm wondering if the hostage in the beginning could be her and we'll be returning to this moment in time by the end. The worn Robin colors are similar to the design + their head is conveniently covered.

In terms of story, I'm obviously heavily biased, but the initial read got me rolling in emotions with how it has you caring for Damian. Damian as a character is so fantastical in essence - it’s part of his individual charm in the batfam cast! an heir of two kingdoms, born and raised with great expectations suddenly thrust into an unfamiliar land. he has a sword. he has a dragon bat for a companion. he is haunted by the sins he has committed. he is two apples tall. he's truly fairytale material!!

LIKE...past the panels of only his silhouettes, this is our introductory appearances of Damian. It's laid out clearly in the narration, but this parallel is SO GOOD: from the powerful and ornate visuals of Damian and the Al Ghuls -> to a simple panel of Batman's shadow behind a boy littered in scars, stripped of his home and status

Damian is out of his element and proves himself in the way he knows how!!

just kick me down a flight of stairs why don't you. i don't know which messes me up more, the top 3 or bottom 3 panels. His facial expressions!! his expectations for approval dashed!! Damian's hand reaching for his father!! only to be left alone with the body. The page after this is the final nail in the coffin in feeling just how lost he is in the world before he acts on it. And you root for him the entire way!!😭

Despite Damian's fanciful background there's so much heart to be shown in his struggles and discoveries - and this classic form of a fairy tale lays it out so brilliantly!! It's shaping up to be an amazing balance of heavier elements and whimsy based on this first issue, and it leaves you wanting more!!

Besides being a thoroughly enjoyable read, it's inspiring work!! i've ordered Juni Ba's other books to consume more of his storytelling, and here's the ones i've found so far if you're interested in checking them out as well!!

Mobilis: My Life with Captain Nemo

Monkey Meat

Djeliya: A West African Fantasy Epic

The Unlikely Story of Felix and Macabber

okay shockingly, i didn't blab about how cute Damian is as much as i thought i would, but i think the collage at the top speaks for itself lol

this is all you need to know how cute Damian is in this!! his cheeks are so pinchable, it was done on page!! 🥺 these panels obliterate me

[lxndonorris]

Tummy Strokes - Max Verstappen

Y/N x Max Verstappen Theme: Smutish (light touching) the title says it all x word count: 1130+ taglist: @game-set-canet I love this picture so much, my handsome dutchy x open for requests :)

The hum of activity in the Red Bull Racing garage is almost soothing in its routine chaos. Mechanics buzz around you, fine-tuning every aspect of the car that will soon roar on the Monaco circuit. Despite the frenzy, this corner feels like your private oasis, hidden from the world.

Max stands in front of you, resplendent in his racing suit, every inch the epitome of a Formula 1 driver. With his suit slightly unzipped at the top, a tantalizing glimpse of the white fireproofs underneath is revealed.

Max looks every bit the champion in his snug racing suit. The fabric hugs his athletic frame, accentuating his physique with flawless precision. Every contour of his body is highlighted, from the broadness of his shoulders to the lean muscles of his arms and legs. As he moves, the suit moves with him, a second skin that seems tailor-made to showcase his strength and agility.

His confidence radiates from him, his stature commanding attention even in the bustling atmosphere of the Monaco Grand Prix. With his cap perched just on his head, he exudes a casual charm that belies the fierce competitor within.

But it is the way he carries himself with quiet determination and unwavering focus that truly makes him stand out.

You can't help but smile at how effortlessly handsome he looks, even amid the pre-race madness.

"You look amazing." You say, your voice barely above a whisper but filled with admiration.

Max blushed slightly, the faintest hint of pink coloring his cheeks. It is a rare sight, and it makes your heart swell. 

You reach out, your hand finding his stomach, and begin to stroke him gently. The fabric of the suit is smooth under your fingers, and you feel the tension in his muscles ease as you touch him. 

The small act of intimacy is something he cherishes, and you love being able to provide him with a moment of calm.

Max's gaze softens with a mixture of affection and vulnerability. It is a simple gesture, but it speaks volumes about the trust and comfort you find in each other's presence. At the same time, his tummy tenses slightly under your touch, a reaction that sends a thrill of warmth through you.

His blue eyes meet yours, a soft smile curving his lips. "That shirt suits you well," he says, his voice warm and genuine.

You glance down at the Red Bull shirt you are wearing, a mirror image of his usual style, paired with skinny jeans. 

"Thanks; it's my favorite," you reply, looking back up to see him watching you with an expression that is both tender and filled with a kind of unspoken pride.

You continue stroking his chest, and Max lets out a low growl, a sound that sends a thrill through me. His expression softens even more, his eyes closing briefly as he savors the delicate strokes. 

"That feels good." He hums, leaning into your touch, sighing contentedly as the firmness of his body relaxes beneath your hand. 

Max's hands at your waist pull you closer to him, and you steady yourself against his firm chest, feeling the warmth of his body radiating through the fabric of his racing suit. With a gentle touch, you slip one of your hands inside his suit, feeling the smooth texture of the fireproofs against your skin as you stroke his chest.

As your fingers trace along Max's taut muscles beneath his thin firerpoofs, eliciting a low growl from his throat, you can't help but feel a rush of excitement coursing through you.

Felling his hands along your waistline, exploring with a gentle yet possessive touch, only fuels the fire between you, but then a mechanic approaches you, breaking the spell.

"Max, time to gear up." He says, his tone respectful yet firm.

As the announcement for the third free practice echoes through the garage, Max straightens up, the professional racer taking over. 

"Duty calls," he murmurs, licking his lips in anticipation of the adrenaline-filled session.

With a smile, you take hold of the zipper on Max's racing suit, slowly pulling it up as he enjoys the sensation. His eyes close briefly, savoring the feeling of the sleek fabric sliding smoothly against his skin.

Once the suit is fully zipped up, you continue to stroke his chest a few more times, relishing the firmness of his muscles beneath the fabric.

Max's contented expression only spurs you on, and you indulge in a few more gentle strokes before playfully snatching his cap and placing it on your own head.

"Hey!" he protests, his eyes lighting up with amusement.

You give him a cheeky grin. "It suits me, don't you think?" Tilting your head teasingly, you shrug. "And you don't need it just now, do you?"

Max chuckles, shaking his head. "Alright, you can borrow it, but only because it looks so good on you." A final grin plays on his lips, and Max concedes defeat, allowing you to keep the cap for the time being.

He runs a hand through his hair, the gesture adding a touch of casual charm to his already magnetic presence. His tousled locks seem to dance beneath his fingertips.

With a final, lingering look, Max turns to join his team. You watch as he gears up, slipping on his gloves and helmet with practiced ease. The snug fit of his suit flatters every curve and contour of his body, accentuating the firm muscles and the tension building inside him as he prepares for the session.

After donning his helmet, Max takes a moment to make sure everything is in place. With a swift motion, he adjusts the straps and secures the helmet snugly against his head. 

Once satisfied with the fit, he runs his gloved hand over his chest, feeling the smooth fabric of his racing suit. It is a ritual, a final check to ensure everything is as it should be before hitting the track.

His touch is confident, familiar with the contours of his own body. He traces the lines of his muscles, feeling the tension beneath the fabric. A moment of silent concentration, a moment where the outside world fades away, and there is only him and the session ahead.

As he strokes his chest, a sense of determination washes over him. He is ready. Ready to push himself to the limit, ready to chase victory with every ounce of his being. With one last deep breath, he glances at you, a silent acknowledgement of the support you share.

Then, with a nod to his mechanics, he steps into the cockpit, his focus shifting entirely to the task at hand. The enhine roars to life, a symphony of power and precision. 

You watch him go, your heart swelling with pride and admiration for the incredible athlete he is.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Perfect Life || CL16 {8}

Summary: Life has flipped upside down: the people supposed to protect you hurt you and the man who hurt you protects you. Warnings: angst, fluff WC: 2.3k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight Taglist: RETIRED Head over to my dedicated library blog @dilemmaslibrary and opt to get notifications from there.

Nausea churned your stomach and you were grateful dinner hadn’t been served or it would surely be making its return. Blood rushed past your ears and throbbed in your head as you tried to focus on the sheet music in front of you and not the cold touch of sweat beginning to coat your skin.

“Don’t fuck this up,” your mother warned.

You vividly remembered the last time you messed up, fumbling over the tune in front of her friends. She had sent them on their way to the pool house bar and the moment the door closed she slammed the lid of the piano down before you could react. You hadn’t been able to fight for weeks with the thick bandages that kept the finger splints in place.

With trembling hands you lifted the lid that protected the ivory keys from dust. It weighed more than it looked and your eyes scanned the wood for any sign of the blood that had stained it. There was no point searching for something that couldn’t be seen, you found the housekeepers were able to clean blood out of anything.

“You’re shaking,” Charles whispered as he took a seat on the bench with you. His hands took yours and concern bled into his green eyes.

“I’m fine, I just need to get this right. It has to be perfect.”

He frowned at the detached tone and let you pull your hands free, but he didn’t leave as you raised your hands to the keys and stared vacantly at the music book on the shelf. Fingers he had seen clenched tight into fists and fighting with raw strength now moved delicately across the keys and your eyes closed. To anyone in the room it would look serene, divine even, but close up Charles could see the shimmering of tears beneath the lashes.

Something, or someone, had utterly broken the woman beside him and Charles found out just how much he could truly hate when he looked up to see your mother. Her watchful eyes were eager but it wasn’t for the music. The eyes that were the same exact shade as yours were too invested in your performance. It was a stark comparison to when his mother watched him play. There was no pride, merely cold calculations and the anticipation of a mistake.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath as your little finger seized up and failed to reach the key needed.

Fire ignited in your mother’s eyes at the mistake, not that anyone else would have caught it unless they were pianists too. Cruel intentions played across her face as Charles shifted closer on the seat and reached for your hand, slipping his beneath yours and taking over the piece, finishing it almost perfectly.

“Such a delightful duet,” your mother clapped, accepting the applause as if she had done the work. “Dinner will be served in a moment.”

The crowd dispersed to take their appointed seats but you couldn’t move as you sat with your hands slumped on your lap. A shadow fell across you and you tensed, waiting for the pain to come.

“Come on, baby, we’re leaving.” Charles rose to his feet and planted himself between you and your mother.

“The evening isn’t over.”

Charles curled his arm under yours and pulled you to your feet but you felt like a puppet, not in control of your own body. “It is for us, and every other evening too.”

“I don’t know what game you are playing at, boy, but she belongs to me and she isn’t going anywhere.”

“Y/N is a person, not a belonging. She isn’t a price in a deal or weight in a business decision.” Charles snickered as her eyes widened. “Yes, I know about that. I wonder what the world would think of this family if they found out the truth too.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

You finally had the strength to look at him and see utter seriousness set in his handsome features. He was willing to make a scene for you with some of the nations most affluent figures in the next room, but that was exactly why your mother ceded to him.

“Go,” she snapped, an angry finger pointing to the door before she stared down her nose at you. “I won’t forget this when you come crawling back to me.”

You barely spoke a word as you followed Charles outside where he called his brother. “Tur, I need a favour. Can you come and pick us up? No, we haven’t been arrested.”

You didn’t realise you were shivering until he unbuttoned his suit jacket and draped it over your shoulders. Warmth and his scent enveloped you and you immediately started to feel better, your fingers unfurling from the stiff fists they had been closed into.

“He’s going to be at least half an hour,” Charles said as he tucked his phone away and looked around, spotting curious eyes watching from the window. “We should get a taxi and wait somewhere else.”

“Can we walk?”

Charles glanced at your heels. “Do you want to get changed?”

You shook your head and started to make your way down the driveway. “I would say the door is already locked.”

When you reached the gates you knew Franco was already advised of your impending departure. The mountain of a man took up almost all of the security booth and his sad eyes followed each step, but you kept your head high.

“Take care of everyone for me, big guy,” you said as you passed the open gates. He gave the smallest of nods before his lips pursed and he hit the button to close the gates as he had been ordered.

“You’re taking this rather calmly,” Charles commented as he laced his hand in yours and crossed the road to walk along the waterfront.

“I’m sure she was expecting a tantrum.” You smiled at the thought of her disappointment before a laugh bubbled up. “God, she is going to hate you.”

Charles laughed along with you and pulled you to a stop to watch the sun setting over the water. His chest pressed to your back as he held the safety rail either side of your body and his lips warmed your cheek. “She can hate me all she wants, it was worth it. You are worth it.”

You rested your head on his shoulder as the sun dipped below the horizon and sighed. “You make it hard for me to hate you.”

“Good, I don’t want you to hate me.”

With the red hues of light fading quickly you continued on the walk out of the suburbs and into the city. The smells from the fine dining establishments reminded you that you had missed dinner but when Charles asked where you would like to eat there was only one place that called to you.

“McDonalds?” he double checked, frowning as you looked up at the golden arches with what he could only imagine was childish wonder. “Wait, you’ve never had McDonalds?”

“Do they serve caviar?” you shot back.

“They might start when they see you,” he teased, pointing out how massively overdressed you were as he opened the door to the fast food chain. “After you, my lady.”

Charles could see you were uncertain of yourself as you checked what was on the menu. Your posture was relaxed but your eyes were darting around the room, taking in the exits and the other patrons who weren’t dressed nearly as nice as you. “I don’t know what to get,” you finally admitted after spending too long trying to choose one combo.

“Why don’t you go choose a table and I will order for you?”

You chose a booth in the back corner with some privacy and ignored the strange looks you were given as you walked by in a Dior gown. It was only when you sat down that you realised how silly it was to be wearing a 20 carat diamond necklace with no security personnel so you unclasped the chain and bundled it into your hands beneath the table.

A few moments later Charles arrived with a tray of food and slid in beside you.

“So we’ve got the classics: cheeseburger, Big Mac, nuggets, fries and a sundae.” He opened all the packaging and tore the top off a sauce punnet before dragging a nugget through it. “Here, sweet and sour is the best.”

You parted your lips and took a bite, surprised by how sweet and tangy the sauce was with the crunch of the crispy nugget. Your eyes widened and Charles grinned. “Good, no?”

“Holy fuck,” you moaned. “That is delicious!”

“Try this,” Charles said as he dunked a bunch of fries into the ice cream.

“Seriously?”

“Trust me.”

You were dubious but opened your mouth for the food he offered and frowned at the contradictory tastes on your tongue. Hot met cold, sweet met salty, crunchy met creamy. You didn’t hate it but couldn’t decide if you liked it either so you gave it another attempt.

Charles took a burger for himself and quietly ate while you took a bite out of everything before choosing the cheeseburger as the simplest yet satisfactory item of them all.

“It’s like watching a newborn try food for the first time,” he chuckled.

You scrunched up the paper napkin you had dabbed your lips with and tossed it at his grinning face. “Asshole.”

“What? You’re cute.”

“Thank you, you’re not too bad yourself, brother,” Arthur said as he dropped into the booth beside you and flicked a finger at the layered chiffon sleeve of your dress. “You look gorgeous.”

You tossed your hair back over your shoulder and tucked a hand under your chin with a dramatic pout. “This is the look of a homeless woman, Tur. I have nothing but my name and the clothes on my back, but your brother plans to take them both off me.”

Arthur tipped his head back with a laugh and stole the remaining chicken nuggets. “You can ditch the wedding plan now if you have been successfully thrown out. What happened anyway?”

Charles watched as you shrugged and murmured quietly, “She had me play for her important guests and I messed up.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed and he picked up your hands, turning them over to check for any injuries. “Did she hurt you?”

You gently removed your hands and tucked them back on your lap. “Not this time, Charles intervened.”

Charles had never seen such a look of relief or gratitude from his brother and despite knowing he had done the right thing, he wished he could have done something sooner. Clearing his throat of the lump of regret that clogged it, Charles started to collect the rubbish on the table before picking up the tray.

You frowned and looked around for staff. “Isn’t someone going to do that for you?”

“Not here, no,” he said as he disposed of it himself before holding his hand out. “Ready to go home?”

Your argument to stay at the rundown factory was vetoed by both Leclercs so Arthur had driven you back to Monaco with Charles. It was strange to walk back into Charles’ apartment with your worldly possessions in a gym bag and briefly wondered if you were truly prepared for the consequences. You might act brave but there were really only two worlds you knew, the one in the gilded cage and the one in the iron cage. Both involved fighting of two very different kinds but both were for survival; of status or life.

This was foreign.

“I’ll take you shopping in the morning before we go to the track.”

You pulled the necklace from the pocket of his jacket you still wore and placed it on the table. “I don’t know how much this is worth but it’s Cartier.”

Charles frowned at the change in the confident woman he knew and he picked up the heavy chain embedded with diamonds. “You don’t have to worry about money,” he promised as he stepped behind you and clasped it around your throat. “I promised I would take care of you.”

He turned you in his arms and smiled as he ran a finger along the gems resting in the valley of your breasts. “You were born to wear diamonds.”

You couldn’t quite find the words to thank him because a simple thank you wasn’t enough so you slipped his jacket off and draped it over a chair before reaching for the hidden zip at your side. You brushed the sleeves off your shoulders and let the dress float to the floor under his watchful eyes before stepping closer. With each step another item of clothing was lost - heels, bra, panties, gone - until there was only one thing left. “The necklace?”

Charles smirked as he pulled you flush to his body and tipped your chin back to meet his darkening eyes. “Leave it on.”

[maxzinn]

FOUND FAMILY TROPE

⇀ tags ; fem!reader, developing relationships, found family, reader is yanqing's mom, jing yuan being a bit emo, slight angst, fluff, happy endings!

⇀ note: here's part 2, sorry it took a while sdjhfjh

part 1

jing yuan never liked the quiet, but he doesn't hate it as well.

sometimes, to him, it's peaceful. the gentle rays of sunlight slowly making its home in his abode, the gentle rustle of the wind, curtains fluttering from the gentle breeze, and the chirping of those tiny little finches that seemingly found comfort in his windows.

but sometimes, it's unsettling. his abode is far too huge for his liking. far too big that despite his huge stature... it makes him feel so small. the quiet seems to haunt him, its silence deafening. The halls are way too quiet, every nook and cranny - every room he barely used...

he was never used to the quiet, never ever got used to it. to jingyuan, the silence was a hard pill to swallow - one that haunted him, one that enables the lonely thoughts and regrets he has in his head. to him, it's a terrifying gamble. one that he doesn't risk, and a risk he doesn't want to take.

yet, he doesn't like the noise either. not when the screams and cries of his people fills the air, not when his friends mourn for their lost friend, not when the final verdict was placed, and not when their hatred and vengeance spoke louder that it drowned the voices of their joyful laughter.

not when chingzu scolds him for the nth time for setting his duties aside, not when fu xuan complains about his sleepiness, and not when another trouble arises in the luofu.

but then suddenly... the noise doesn't seem to be as unbearable as before. when he met you, as cheesy as it sounds.

"yanqing! don't run too fast!" you scolded as yanqing continued to run away from you, laughing and giggling as he played in the general's garden. you sighed in defeat and placed your hands on your waist.

the general chuckled, "it's fine y/n, let the little man play to his heart's content. I don't mind at all"

"you spoil him a bit too much, general. i'm afraid he'll get more and more demanding" you let out a small laugh.

the quiet was slowly filled with noise, ones that came from you and your son... ones that echoed through his oh so empty halls, ones that vibrated through his walls, ones that filled his abode with the color of your tone, ones that replaced the seemingly monochromatic energy of his own home... and ones that he always looked forward to hear in the mornings, afternoons, and nights.

the way you and yanqing would greet him with a sweet "good morning, general!" was something that brought warmth and comfort to his lonely heart. something that gives him peace as you began to serve breakfast on the table with yanqing helping you set up the table...

the way you would sing your lullabies to lull your son to sleep, the way you would hum as you cook in the kitchen, the way you would read yanqing bed time stories, and the way you keep him entertained with your company by telling random stories and tales about yourself...

these are the moments and memories he forever wants to keep - ones that he never intends to sacrifice. one that he will forever engrave and etch on his heart and mind, body and soul.

but then suddenly, the silence doesn't seem to be as unbearable as before. as he watches you and yanqing sleep.

the corner of his lips twitched upwards and turned into a warm smile as he observes the mother and son duo sleeping about in the garden without a single care in the world. your forms are relaxed, the children's book in your hand slipping out of your grasp, your arms wrapped around yanqing as he sleeps on your chest, and the soft snores you both let out wasn't something he was able to miss.

and suddenly, jing yuan hated to not hear the quiet.

"general, you've done enough for me and yanqing throughout my whole recovery. i'm truly grateful for your kindness and care, which is why I think it would be best not to further burden you anymore with our situation as I have recovered” you said with an almost disappointed and apologetic smile, and jing yuan froze in place.

“I already told you, I don’t mind at all as long as you have fully recovered. that would be the only favor I ask of you in return” he said, trying to convince you while trying to mask his desperation

“you’re too kind general, truly. I can’t thank you enough for letting us stay just because of my son’s insistence and tantrums…”

jing yuan could have left you both to the care of the healers of the alchemy commission after he had rescued you and yanqing… but the little man’s cries of fear and worry over his mother made it hard for him to leave. so he held him close, and chose to look after him until you wake up because yanqing who found comfort in the general’s presence - doesn’t want to part with him.

jing yuan could have agreed without any hesitation to your offer, he could have allowed for you to leave his home… but he got so used of your presence that it made it hard for him to agree. those moments where he feels himself truly relax in his abode, the fact that he have someone to come home to… for him to keep on bearing the burden and weight on his shoulders, for everything to be much more bearable than before…

he couldn’t bear coming home to an empty house anymore, where only silence and noise greets him in mockery.

and suddenly, jing yuan hated to silence the noise

as you filled the empty rooms and spaces in his abode, leaving your mark on every corner of his home… driving away the silence that haunts him as he hears your skittering and humming in the kitchen while making dinner, as you read your bedtime stories to your son, as you sing while taking your sweet time in the shower…

for once, jing yuan felt fear.

for once, he lets himself be selfish.

“…I plan to take yanqing as my apprentice” your jaw drops.

“g-general? what are you- that’s too much to ask of you!” you exclaimed.

“the little man wants to become a cloud knight does he not? I don’t see the problem with that” he said with his familiar smug and relaxed demeanor.

“but yanqing has not made any feats worthy of him being your apprentice! general, I ask you to please reconsider”

“I disagree, I see great potential in him and I have no doubts he will reach great heights and perform great feats… I only wish to nurture his talent at a young age” he stepped towards you.

“there are plenty of spare rooms for us to make use of… and I don’t mind you using them. so fret not.”

maybe, this is his way of asking you both to stay. as you look in his eyes, he looks at you with such gentleness… desperation… and longing. for once, the general looked truly lonely, but he couldn’t be anymore sincere of his feelings.

and maybe, just maybe… you might give in to his wishes too.

sksjdh finally complete, sorry it took so long 😭 I don’t know if I did well in writing part 2 but this is the best that my brain could think of 🥹

should I do a part 3 as well??

[ozarkthedog]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃

summary: while doing a deal with Marc, Joel comes to collect your debt.

pairing: (mob enforcer!Joel Miller x afab!reader) x dealer!Marc Spector.

warnings: 18+ mdni. dub con -> read responsibly. alt universe. soft!dark. no physical descriptors of reader. power imbalance. threats. debt to the mob. weed. no m/m. oral sex (f&m). rough sex. dirty talk. spit roasting. shotgunning. aftercare. w.c. 4.2k

author's note: honestly, this started out as pure filth/pwp, then it turned into so much more. there is potential for multiple parts, mostly revolving around Joel x reader. don't hold me to it, but like i said, this took on a life of its own, and now i'm madly in love with mob enforcer!Joel.

huge thank you to @ghotifishreads for beta-ing and being such a wonderful, supportive friend.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐎𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

The carpet in your tiny living room was slowly developing a hole from your pacing back and forth. You love this apartment. Sure, the faucets drip, and the dingy wallpaper started peeling the day you moved in, but it was all yours. 

Since you moved to the big city after leaving home, you took any job you could find. You knew starting out on your own would be tough, but you could grin and bear it. Anything was better than small-town life. You wanted adventure, to see what the world had to offer.

What you didn’t plan on was getting involved with the wrong kind of people. 

When you fell months behind on rent, a co-worker mentioned she knew someone who could help. 

It was too good to be true, you thought, as you slowly walked into a smokey nightclub around midnight. Uptempo Spanish music played in the background as patrons drank at the bar, loudly singing and chattering. You tread deeper into the club, entering a VIP section where multiple gorgeous women sat on the laps of intimidating, finely dressed men in expensive suits. 

Various sets of eyes spot you the moment you cross the threshold, but only one set feels like they’re burning into your soul.

An unnerving man with piercing brown eyes holds your wary gaze. He’s draped in a long, brown leather coat, and streaks of gray pepper his temples. He stands to the side, leaning against the wall, and watches with intrigue as you shift nervously on your feet. 

His arms are crossed. A mustache tops his lips, which are etched in a permanent scowl as if he’s a dog that’s been kicked too many times. Still, he’s among the most handsome men you’ve seen since coming to the city.

He pushed off the wall with his broad shoulders, finally breaking his stare, and leaned down to whisper in the ear of a younger man seated at the head of the table, presumably his boss. 

“You need a little help, Sugar?” the younger man asked. 

His dark hair is a mess of curls, and his cheekbones look like they could cut glass. “I could use some help around the club. There’s always a gentleman in need of some company.” His fingers traced along a woman's nylon thigh as he looked you up and down. His coy lips tugged into a smirk as the group quietly laughed. 

The brown-eyed man's face grimaced at the younger man's tone. You want to curl in on yourself. The smoke in the air makes it hard to breathe. “Uh, no,” you start, tonguing your dry lips. “I just need to borrow some money.” 

The younger man purses his lips and nods. “That can be arranged. Joel here will take care of you.” He motioned to the older man on his right and looked you over with a curious gaze before waving you away.

Joel, the mob boss's right-hand man, meets you in the dingy alley behind the club. Water drips off the corner of the rooftop from the storm that blew through earlier in the day. A gust of cool fall air blows through, and you hug yourself to keep warm.

You learn that Joel was a no-nonsense man, straight to the point. Clear and precise.

He thrusts a heavy bag into your hands, and the leather handle creaks under the weight. “You sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?” he asks, lighting a cigarette. Orange hues lit his features sinisterly as if he were a demon or creature from hell's depths.

You stood your ground, but the tremble in your voice gave you away. “Yeah, I know what I’m doing.” 

Joel’s eyes go soft. It’s the first time he looks human since you first saw him. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered, shaking his head. He blows a long gust of smoke from his nose. “He expects to be paid, with interest, by the end of the month.”

You teethe your bottom lip with a nod as nauseous worry swarms your belly.  

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you,” he states, thumbing at his lips. “Just so we know you haven’t run off with our money.”

Your eyes widen, and your knees slightly buckle. “No! I don’t plan on taking off. You don’t have to worry about that.” You trip over your words, frantically making sure he knows you won’t rip them off.   

He chuckles at the sight. It’s a deep, dark rumble from years of smoking and drinking, and it makes your cunt throb. “We don’t think you will, but it’s part of the job. Besides, having to keep track of such a pretty face ain’t so bad.” he muses, a light smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

An anxious, breathy laugh puffs from your chest. You hesitantly wring the leather handle as your eyes fall to the wet pavement.

A horn blares in the distance. Angry drivers yell into the night, breaking the perilous spell between you and the enforcer. 

“If you ever need help with anythin', let me know, okay?” he offers before turning on his heel and returning to the club.

“How will I contact you? With a bat signal or something?” You asked quizzically.

He chuckled again, and it set your heart on fire. “Just call the club and ask for me, sweetheart.”

You were truly and utterly fucked. 

It was the end of the month. Joel would arrive at 5pm to collect, and you had $50 measly dollars left in your bank account.

You’d squared up with your landlord and then some, paying for a few months in advance to show how grateful you were that he didn’t kick you out on the streets. What you didn’t plan on was getting fired from your job. You desperately tried to find another one, but you knew it was pointless as the end of the month slowly crept.

A knock on the door jars you from your thoughts. You scramble to open it, thankful your dealer was around today. You badly needed a smoke to curb your anxiety and impending doom.

Marc stands on your doorstep, beaming with his classic lopsided smile. “How’s it going?” He asks, making the short trip over to your couch, unbuttoning his long, black, and gray tweed coat before plopping down with a sigh. 

“Uh, fine,” you reply quickly. “You know. Same old.” 

“Same shit, different day, as I like to say.”  He scratches his trimmed beard with a coy grin. He looks really good today. Dark gray hair gelled and tousled. 

Nerves tug at your belly. You can taste the bitter doubt in the back of your throat.

Marc was a decent dealer. He let you start a tab when funds were low and gave you extra lighters and papers when needed. You knew to avoid crossing him, so what you had to do was extra tricky.

You sit on the floor across from him as he chucks a bag filled with joints onto the coffee table. Your body itches to feel the smoke burn your lungs.   

“Wanna hang for a bit? Smoke with me?” you offer, already reaching for the joint with a timid smile.

Marc quirks a brow. He digs his phone out of his tweed jacket and checks the time. “Uh, yeah, sure. I can hang for a bit.”

You try to light the joint, but the lighter won’t spark.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Marc asks, taking the lighter from your shaky hands. 

You silently nod and press the joint between your lips. Just as he lights the spliff, a knock sounds on your door.

You curse under your breath and hand the unlit joint to Marc. “Sorry. I’ll give whoever that is the boot.” He nods and sparks the joint, taking a long drag as you cross the distance to the door.

You yank open the door without thinking. “I don’t want anything you’re selli-”

“Hey there, Sweetheart,” a familiar, deep voice drawls.

You stand like a deer in headlights before the intimidating mob enforcer. 

He wasn’t supposed to be here so early. That’s the last time you open your door without checking the peephole.

“What’re you doing here, Joel?” you inquire, leaning in close so Marc doesn’t hear. "I have until tonight to give you the money."

The older man's leather jacket is pulled tight around his rugged shoulders as he leans in your doorway. His salt and pepper curls look damp as if you were his first stop after he got out of the shower.

“The boss has plans later and wants to ensure you're paid up.”

You wanted to scream. 

“This isn’t fair.” Your fists clench at your sides.

“That’s life, Sweetheart’.” Joel shrugs. “So, where’s the money?"

It takes every ounce of courage you have to stand your ground. 

“No. The boss said I had until 5pm, so I won’t give you anything until then. Now kindly, leave.”

You slam the door, but not quickly enough. A worn boot slides between the frame and the door, halting your escape.

“God dammit,” Joel fumes, shoving the door open, sending you flying back into your living room.

You catch yourself before you fall and watch as the enforcer makes his way into your sacred space. Now you know what it feels like to be on his wrong side. He kicks the door shut with his foot, ready to pounce, but freezes when he sees Marc.

“Miller.” Marc acknowledges from his laid-back position on the couch, joint pinched between his fingers.

Joel’s jaw twitches. “Spector.”

“So, what’s going on here?” Marc asks, gesturing with a curious wave. He then blows a lungful of smoke into the room and flicks bits of burning embers into an ashtray.

“None of your business,” Joel grits before focusing his attention back on you.

You do your best not to cower in front of the large man as he stalks closer. “You don’t want to make the boss angry.” He says, in an eerily calm voice, one that makes your hair stand on end. “Where’s the money?”

“I don’t have it.” You admit, barely louder than a whisper.

His jaw clenches hard. He shakes his head in disbelief, hands perched on his hips. His eyes grow scarily dark. "That’s not what I want to hear.”

“I don’t know what to say. I have a few dollars left in my account,” Your voice wavers.

Joel drags a heavy palm over his face and sighs. “What were you thinking? How were you going to pay him?” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder to your dealer.

“I, uh, I had a plan.” Your fingers wring at the seam of your shirt, and nausea swarms your belly.

Marc stands and finally joins the conversation. “Yeah, I’d like to know how you intended to pay me.”

You shift on your feet, eyes darting between the two more prominent and influential men. 

“I was going to offer to blow you.” The words tumble out so quickly that you wonder if they even heard you.

You wish the floor would open up and suck you in. It was bad enough that you had to resort to blowing your dealer, but now Joel was here to witness everything and most likely drag you to a certain death.

“For fucks sake,” the older man groans. 

Marc’s brow shoots into his hairline. He whistles as his eyes drag down your body. “You sure got yourself into a real jam here, huh?” He licks his bottom lip and steps closer. “I think something could be arranged, at least on my end. What about you?” He claps a hand on Joel's back, barely moving the powerhouse of a man. He was an enforcer, after all. This job wasn’t just for anyone. 

Joel shakes his head in dismay. His leather jacket creaks as he moves, lightning fast, quickly pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, Sweetheart.” He informs, “Since I’ve taken a likin’ to you, I’d hate to see you get hurt. I’ll pay off your debt.”

The heavy weight you’d dragged around for the last week falls from your shoulders. You didn’t realize you’d stop breathing until the sweet air rushed into your lungs.  

 “But,” he continues, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip, “you’re going to pay me back in kind.”

The heaviness returns, except now you’re afraid the extreme weight will crush you.

Joel notices your racing thoughts. “Shh. No need to think,” he murmurs, letting his hand fall to your hip and making himself comfortable. “Just be grateful you’ve got to deal with only me and Spector.” 

His eyes are solemn and tender, lost in his thoughts; his gaze travels across your face. You raise a cautious hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat under the smooth leather. That magnetic pull you felt the first time you met him pulsed through your veins again, and you think he felt it, too. 

Then, his features twisted with remorse. "This wasn't what I had in mind, but you've left me no choice, Sweetheart."

In a flash, Joel drags you across the worn floorboards and carelessly tosses you over the back of your couch. The air knocks from your lungs. Your ribs flash bright with pain. He moves too fast for you to protest and tugs your leggings off, throwing them across the small room. 

“Best get to work, Spector, if you plan on getting your end of the deal,” Joel threatens the dealer as he crouches down, giving himself a front-row view of your exposed cunt. 

“Let’s get a look at the goods.” His large, warm hands roughly spread your cheeks apart. “Fuck me. That’s a sweet looking pussy.” He drags a thumb up the slice of you, making your spine bow as your hands press into the cushions. “Already wet, too. My kinda girl.”

Unconsciously, you strike an elbow back, but an imposing figure grabs your flailing limb, halting your retaliation.

You forgot about the other man in the room. 

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t ever wonder how you’d look with my cock in your mouth,” Marc admits while fisting his length out. 

He’s half-hard and already intimidating. You stare up at him incredulously while he grasps his veiny girth and traces your tightly closed mouth with the weeping, dusky pink tip. He smears his pre-cum on your skin, marking you before he begins his corruption.

Joel smacks your ass hard, making you yelp and shoving you onto the dealer’s awaiting cock. You instantly gag as Marc's hips pitch forward once he feels your warm, wet mouth. He curses under his breath, cages your head between his hands, and begins sawing his cock back and forth over your tongue. 

His brute thrusts make you gag and spring tears to your eyes. “Come on now. Why the waterworks? This was your plan, after all,” Marc teases, patting your damp cheek.  

Without warning, Joel’s tongue dives into your heat. A blazing heat erupts in your belly as he licks from end to end, wild and ferocious, not stopping until he tastes every inch of you. 

You instinctively moan from the blissful arousal that begins to pulse from his treatment. He laves at your taint and tickles your untouched rosebud for a beat forcing your mind to somersault before traveling south to circle his tongue around your clit. 

“Could eat this cunt all damn day,” he slurs against your throbbing core like he's drunk off you. “God damn, s’fuckin’ delicious.”

Joel sucks the tiny button into his mouth, earning a whole body shiver as you writhe against the couch. He rubs his nose against your soaked folds, making sure to take deep breaths while he eats you alive. 

Marc leans to his left while he works his cock ruthlessly down your throat, making you sputter as the bulbous head prods your tonsils.

You hear a click. The sound of paper igniting and then a long, deep breath.

Marc leers down at you while holding the smoke in his lungs. He curls a hand around the back of your head and presses until the auburn wiry strands littering his girthy base tickle your nose. Then, he exhales, blowing a long, winding breath like a dragon down into your face. 

Your vision blurs from the vapor. The trapped oxygen burns your lungs, and your body quivers from your helpless position while you gag sickly around his cock. Joel winds his arms under your belly, keeping you steady as you thrash anxiously. 

When Marc finally lets you free, you sputter and suck down as much air as you can. A glossy strand of drool connects your lips to his throbbing cock. You sniff and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand as his fat length bounces in your view. “You look fuckin’ wasted, Kitten.” He quips with a languid laugh and takes another hit. 

Joel stands behind you, knees cracking as he towers over your vulnerable body. You warily look over your shoulder when he grinds his against the soft skin of your ass.

You’re caught in his wretched stare like a deer in headlights. “Best hope this pussy fucks as good as it tastes,” he threatens, tapping his bulbous, weeping crown on your sticky folds.

Joel gives no warning before he steadily pushes his obscene length into your heat. Your jaw drops with a raspy wail, allowing Marc to fill your mouth again and mute your frantic moans. You feel every vein and girthy inch of Joel’s cock splitting you open, as well as Marc's, as he glides his thickness over your tongue.

It seems to go on forever until they bottom out harmoniously. Joel presses his hips against your ass, and his plush lips pull into a sneer as your core stretches to accommodate him. “Oh, Sweetheart. This cunt is practically chokin’ me.” He provokes with a ragged groan, rubbing his thumb along the glistening, excessively stretched skin that embraces his cock.

A high-pitched whine slithers from your throat before it’s quickly cut off by Marc snapping his pelvis. Joel licks his creamy thumb with a dark chuckle before caging your hips in his steely grasp. He sets a steady rhythm, entirely withdrawing before shoving his cock back in, giving you no reprieve as Marc continuously thrusts his dripping length between your spit-coated lips. 

Your body burns. Your mind is warped. Joel's cock keeps brushing against that spongy spot behind your clit. It's all too much. You feel yourself losing strength, giving in. Either from lack of oxygen to your brain or your greedy cunt that's feeding off their wretched pleasure. 

"You gonna come, Sweetheart? Can feel her milkin' me real good. Shit-" Joel hisses as your velvet walls squeeze him tight.

Both your holes lock around their cocks as you come. Your eyes roll back, your spine bending like a bow as the harsh wave of desire ripples through you. 

Both men curse at the sight and feel of you. 

It shouldn’t feel this good being used and tossed around like a toy, but a thick, syrupy heat steadily gathers in your belly. With your head in the drug-induced clouds, every illicit touch sends you higher into a euphoric atmosphere.

“Wanna hit?” Marc offers, holding the joint between his fingers to the enforcer.

Joel finally tears his eyes away from where he’s spearing you open. He nods, stilling his hips, and extends a hand before pressing the joint between his lips. He takes a long drag before splaying his broad body over yours. 

You notice him in your peripheral as he watches you choke down Marc’s cock. “What a fuckin’ sight,” he drawls, joint bouncing between his lips. “Swallowin’ his cock like your life depends on it.” He roughly drives his hips forward, his leaky crown cruelly kissing your cervix, making you gag from the agonizing bliss. “Kinda ironic that it does.” 

You feel their cocks pulse in unison when you start writhing at Joel’s threat. You knew they wouldn’t hurt you, but the thought was too much to bear in your current state. They quickly make work of your flailing limbs; Joel grabs the back of your neck with a heavy paw, and Marc traps both your hands in his own, caging them against his stout stomach.

They set a brutal pace. You no longer feel in control of your body as they use you to get off. The room echoes with the sounds of gluttony, like feral animals staking their rightful claim on lowly prey. 

Marc comes with a growl, caging your head between his hands as you push against his abdomen, and fucks his salty release into your mouth. He collapses onto the couch with a ragged sigh, his engorged cock a shiny mess as he catches his breath. 

“Gotta get used to this, sweetheart,” Joel gloats in your ear, working an arm around your collarbone to pull you back onto his cock, forcing you to meet every one of his brutal shoves. “Your pretty pussy is gonna be ruined by the time your debt is paid in full.” 

Marc cups your jaw in one of his hands and takes a puff of his joint. He slides a thumb between your sticky, come coated lips and blows the smoke into your mouth. You gladly inhale, letting the drug work its magic. Joel grabs your hips and picks up his speed, greedy for his pleasure. 

He comes with a gruff, dark groan, snapping his hips hard against your ass until he's buried to the hilt and pumping his sticky load into your fluttering core. 

You collapsed onto the cushions once Joel let go of your hips, your body too weak and drugged to care to move despite your vulnerable state.

“We’re square, Kitten.” Marc grazes your cheek with his knuckles, and a sly grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “But anytime you want a hit and can’t pay, I’ll be more than happy to help you out,” Marc quips before silently nodding at Joel and leaves with a bounce in his step.

"Come're, Sweetheart." Large hands slide under your belly and help you stand on your feet. His eyes soften as he looks over your puffy eyes and swollen, slick coated lips. He cups your cheek and sighs through his nose. "Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

A rush of water hits your ears as Joel turns the shower faucet. You stand behind him like a child waiting for their next instruction before he turns back to you with a slight smile.

"Up and over. That's it," Joel says, ensuring you don't bump your elbows as he removes your shirt, folds it, and places it on your vanity. He helps you step into the shower before he sits on the toilet lid and watches you through the clear plastic curtain. 

Silence falls over the tiny bathroom as he lets you take solace under the stream.

You melt in the warmth. It eases your aches and dulls your overwrought senses. You stay there until your skin prunes and icy cold water pours from the tap.

He helps you step out of the tub, ensuring you're on solid ground before grabbing a towel hanging on the wall and wrapping you in the soft cotton. 

"You'll stay with me until your debt is paid," he said, resting his hands on your shoulders; the weight keeps you grounded as your world turns upside down.

"You won't have to worry about anythin'," he continues, carefully drying your body with a tenderness you didn't expect. "I'll pay your rent, so you still have this place when our transaction is complete." 

You know you should be upset. A screaming, raging mess but seeing such a dangerous man on his knees drying water droplets from your body makes you lightheaded with alarming power.

He stands when you don't outwardly react. His lips are pressed into a worried, hard line, his hands are perched on his hips, and a sharp brow wrinkles his forehead. "Okay?"

The vexation that laces his tone snaps you out of the dumbstruck fog. You knew there was only one right answer.

“Yes,” you rasp, defeated. 

He smirks, softly chuckling under his breath at your submission.

"I'll be back in a few hours," he says, cupping your jaw like he's drinking from a stream; God knows what brutality those hands have dealt out. "I trust you'll still be here when I get back." 

You nod quickly under his grave stare. 

He plants a searing kiss on your lips, making you gasp. It's dominating and possessive, like he's christening the start of your new life together by licking into your mouth and claiming you. 

He breaks the kiss with a grunt and nudges your nose with his own. "Thatta girl." 

He holds your gaze as he slowly walks backward out of the room. "Pack enough for the next week. I'll swing by later to get the rest," he instructs before turning and walking out your door.

You're left standing in your tiny bathroom, panting like a newborn fawn. Your legs wobble as you move to sit on the toilet lid and clutch the towel tighter to your chest; heart smashing against your ribs.

Joel was right. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

*if you'd like to read more about Joel and reader's new life together, please invade my inbox about them! it helps motivate me!*

->reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated!<-

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[allur1ngs]

✮ succumb (to me) ✮

TW: small angst to fluff, smut (dom & top!bada, sub & bottom !reader, kinda rough & angry sex, strap usage–r!receiving, oral–r!receiving, reader sucks on bada’s strap bcs i say so, teasing, strap referred to as a cock, bada is the giver in this scenario, doesn’t rlly receive, sorry…) + aftercare, delulu bada, once again LOTS of protective!bada, cold!bada, frustrated!bada, jealous!bada, petty!bada, bada having SERIOUS beef w your bodyguard, lusher being an instigator, reader being oblivious once again but its okay because we love her, jealous!reader, hyo being stuck in the middle of it all… justice for her fr, ngl the descriptions in this one are more spicy so… beware ? allusions to homophobia if you squint, the picture to the farthest right is purely for aesthetics and not meant to represent reader’s skin tone or body type!! and a surprise character that you may know~

SUMMARY: jealousy is man’s most evil, and easiest sin to yield to. bada struggles to keep herself from falling into its clutches, and succumbing to her greatest temptation, you.

WC: 14.5k… i promised myself this one would be shorter but i’m weak

A/N: find more information about this au on my masterlist! once again, i’m sure there are MANY mistakes throughout this fic, so please ignore them as best as you can--i'll edit this asap. also this isn't the first kiss or first i love you, consider this fic as a "what if" like slightly canon divergent. i want to make a separate fic about the official first kiss and first i love you!!

DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada, team bebe, or anyone else’s actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!

Orange sunlight pours through the black-tinted windows in Bada’s office, casting a warm glow onto words that blur into blots of ink against white paper. Bada's tired eyes squint, attempting to make out the last sentence of the form in front of her. But no matter how hard she glares and huffs, the blots don’t unify into words.

“Ugh,” she groans, pushing away the form out of frustration. “I need a break.”

“You think so?” Lusher pops up behind the office door, having quietly opened it while Bada was focused on her paperwork.

“Yes, Lusher, I need a break,” Bada pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing out of her nose. “But I have a feeling I won’t be able to, now that you’re here.”

“Those are some harsh words for someone who brought you a gift,” Lusher says cheekily. She approaches Bada, opening her once-closed fist to reveal a pair of black-framed glasses. “Tada!”

Bada lets out a breath, muttering a thank you before grabbing her glasses and putting them on. Immediately, she feels the world come into focus, and the words on the form she pushed away are now crisp and uniform. “Much better.”

“What would you do without me?” Lusher jokes.

“I’d probably be much more productive.” Bada takes ahold of her gold-trimmed fountain pen and sets another stack of papers in front of her.

“What happened to taking a break?” Lusher pouts. “You’re going to go blind if you continue to push your eyes this much.”

“Well, thanks to you, I have my glasses, so I won’t go blind,” Bada says without looking up from the paper she’s signing.

“That’s not how it works,” Lusher huffs.

Bada stops writing, placing her fountain pen down and lifting her gaze up to stare at Lusher dead in the eyes. “What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you.” Lusher plops down on the couch in the corner of the room. “We never get to talk like friends anymore.”

“I’m busy,” Bada says gruffly.

“You’re always busy,” Lusher complains. Bada doesn’t respond, instead, she picks up her pen again and starts reading the paper in front of her. “Fine,” Lusher folds her arms across her chest, “I’ll just talk aloud.”

Again, Bada ignores her subordinate, shuffling to the next paper and beginning to scan the words.

Lusher takes no offense, already used to her friend’s cold and serious behavior; in fact, it’s something she admires in her. And, she also knows that despite how her boss outwardly acts, Bada does care about her and listens to what she has to say.

“Minah and I took care of that job yesterday.” She comments, her eyes moving to the tinted window in Bada’s office. “It was very easy. U-Ram is getting sloppy.” Lusher waits to see if Bada will respond, but she doesn’t, so the second-in-command continues. “His branch of Seoul should be easy to take over. And if he doesn’t want to give it up, Tatter, Minah, and I can visit him.”

Silence fills the room, making Lusher pout again. She wants to get at least some sort of reaction out of Bada, but she remains steadfast in focusing on her work. Lusher thinks to herself, for a moment, wondering what else she could bring up to her boss that might spark up some form of conversation.

Suddenly, a lightbulb goes off in her mind, making her eyes light up and her lips curve upward in a mischievous smile. There’s one thing she can use. One thing–or more like one person–that always breaks through Bada’s icy attitude.

“So, how have things between you and unnie been going?” Lusher asks innocently.

Bada’s writing pauses, “We’re doing fine.” She mumbles before continuing to scribble furiously.

Bingo, Lusher thinks, trying to hide how her smile grows. “That’s good, I’m glad. I was worried after the incident with Seong, your relationship would be on the rocks. But it seems like it brought you two closer together.”

Bada keeps her eyes fixed on the document below her, “Yes. Our friendship has become much stronger.”

“Friendship.” Lusher snorts.

“What’s so funny?” Bada cuts in, tone hard.

“You and unnie aren’t friends.”

“We are.” Bada insists. “I enjoy her company, and she enjoys my company. We’re friends.”

“Bada, you and unnie have done everything in a traditional relationship other than have sex.” Lusher deadpans.

Bada’s hand fumbles with her fountain pen out of shock, her eyes snapping up to meet Lusher’s figure casually lounging on the couch. “Lee Seoyoung,” She says firmly. “remember your place, and don’t speak about my fiancée in such a way.”

“I don’t mean it in an offensive way.” Lusher shrugs, not affected by Bada using her full name. “I’m just pointing out that you two aren’t friends. Or if you are, you’re incredibly touchy friends.”

Bada scoffs, removing her gaze from Lusher. “We’re just friends. End of story.”

“If you say so,” Lusher concedes, resting her head against the headrest of the couch. “But now that I think about it, I wonder how unnie keeps herself satisfied.”

Bada looks up once again, her expression showing clear confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Lusher smirks to herself, sitting up. “Well, unnie’s been with you for about two and a half months now, right? Don’t you think she’d begin to feel…” she trails off, trying to find a less brash way of expressing her thoughts. “lonely for companionship? For some… skinship?”

Bada’s eyes widen only a fraction, the wheels in her mind slowly turning. “I greet her in the morning with hugs and a peck on the cheek.”

“Boss, you have to realize that not all of us are as composed and able to be abstinent for long periods of time like you are.”

“What are you implying?” Bada says incredulously. “That she’s–” she cuts herself off, becoming physically sick at the thought of someone else touching you, caressing you, giving you pleasure, and seeing you in ways she hasn’t.

“I’m not implying anything.” Lusher holds her hands up in defense.

Bada glares at Lusher, countless thoughts running through her mind as her heart races in her chest. “And if she were to be… engaging in such activities, who do you think she’d find company in?”

Lusher looks up, thinking deeply and seriously about Bada’s question. “I would have to say… Hyo. They’ve become quite close.” She answers honestly. “But don’t take this too seriously, Boss. Unnie isn’t that type of woman.”

But it’s much too late. Internally, Bada’s already beginning to spiral, remembering every interaction between you and Hyo she’s witnessed. There’s no way you’re interested in her… right? She may follow you around every minute of every day, but that’s not enough to make you fall in love with her, right? It’s not enough to make you yearn for her touch while Bada remains shut in her office, reviewing documents and signing papers…

“Bada…” Lusher trails off, noticing how her friend’s eyes become cloudy in thought. “I’m serious, don’t read too much into it. I was just joking around.”

“I’m not reading into it,” Bada responds after a beat. “My fiancée is her own woman, and what she does in her free time is none of my business. As long as she’s safe and happy, I’m content.”

Lusher frowns deeply, shaking her head. “But—”

“Don’t worry about it; I’m fine.” Bada holds up a hand to stop Lusher from continuing. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I want to finish this pile of papers before nightfall.”

Lusher looks between Bada and her work, unsure if she’s convinced that her friend wasn’t overthinking her joking comment. Eventually, she decides not to disturb Bada anymore, taking her leave and remaining oblivious to the chain of events she would unwittingly cause.

Like an unrelenting plague, Lusher’s words echo in Bada’s mind for the rest of the day, night, and the next day that follows. She tries to stay on task and finish her paperwork, but no matter how hard she tries, her mind will play cruel tricks on her, showing her images of your sweaty body sliding against Hyo’s, a smirk painted across her face as she services you with unrivaled pleasure.

Bada bangs her fist against her desk, dragging her chair back violently as she groans, running her fingers through her hair in frustration. If she can’t focus on her work, she might as well see what you’re up to and maybe spend some time with you. Not because she wants to observe your interactions with Hyo—no, not at all. She misses you, is all. In a friendly way, of course.

Leaving her office looking tired and disgruntled, Bada bumps into Soweon in her search for you. She asks her youngest subordinate if she knows where you are, to which she says yes, pointing in the direction of the terrace where the infinity pool lies. Bada says a quick thank you before fast walking in your direction, a prickle of nervousness building in her stomach, something she isn’t used to.

Stepping onto the terrace, Bada’s right hand busies itself by loosening her tie, noticing how tight it suddenly felt when her eyes find a sight that makes the nervousness in her stomach wash away, and instead, be replaced by a burning heat.

Your lower half is submerged in water while your upper half is arched into the warm afternoon air, water droplets falling from your throat and dipping down between your breasts as you hoist yourself out of the pool. In front of you, Hyo is holding out a white towel with one hand and grabbing onto yours in the other, helping you out of the pool.

There’s nothing particularly abnormal or intimate about the interaction, but it’s your bathing suit that makes Bada’s breath hitch, and the simmering fire burning within her spread. It’s a black ensemble, elegant, and compliments your figure to implausible lengths, that Bada wonders if it was handmade to make you look as divine as possible.

But your beautiful visage is overridden by Lusher’s words once again ringing in her mind.

Bada’s legs move before she can even think, rushing her over to where Hyo’s holding out the towel for you. She grabs it from her without a second thought, standing directly in front of her and taking your hand in hers, so Hyo’s unable to see you fully emerge from the pool.

“Bada?” You say, your eyes lighting up at the sight of her. “What are you doing here?”

“I decided to take a break.” She lies through her teeth, briefly checking behind her to see Hyo giving her a slightly confused look before she steps back, allowing her boss to take care of you instead. “Here,” Bada mumbles, wrapping the warm towel around your figure with haste and pulling you into her side.

The action makes butterflies flutter in your belly, and a shy smile overtake your lips. “Thank you.” You say softly, taking the chance to discreetly snuggle into Bada’s warmth.

“You’re welcome.” Bada nods, glancing at Hyo from the corner of her eye every few seconds. “So, is this where you’ve been all day?”

“Mostly,” you admit. “I haven’t swum much recently, and the sun was warm today, so I thought I’d cool off a bit in the water.”

“I see.” Bada nods. “And your bathing suit…” she trails off.

“What? Do you like it?” You ask innocently, unraveling the towel to give her another look at the piece.

Bada's eyes widen as she quickly wraps you in the towel again, feeling her body warm at the sight of yours. "Yes, yes, it looks very good on you," she hurries out. "But isn't it a little... inappropriate for Hyo to see you like this?"

"What do you mean?" You give Bada a confused look. "She sees me like this all the time."

Bada struggles to keep her composure as her thoughts start to race, and her hands instinctively curl into fists. "She does?"

"Yeah, I go swimming pretty often," you say casually, starting to walk toward the terrace exit. Bada follows, keeping you tucked into her side, and sending glares Hyo's way. You glance at your fiancée, noticing the black frames on her nose. "You're wearing your glasses again." Reaching up, you gently touch the side of them.

"Oh, yes," she mumbles. "I forgot I had them on."

"Bada, you need to stop pushing yourself so much." You pout.

Your fiancée smiles lightly, "You know, Lusher said the same thing."

"Because we're right." You insist. "You're lucky you don't have to wear those glasses every day."

"I won't let it get that bad."

You give her an unconvinced look, crossing your arms. "I'm holding you to that, you know."

"Oh?" Bada smirks. "And what will you do if I slip up?"

"I'll start visiting you every other hour to bother you until you take a break." You say playfully.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Bada banters back.

"Hmm, I don't know, I think you'd enjoy it." You mimic a thoughtful expression, making Bada laugh.

"I'd more than enjoy it." She admits, disguising her sincerity with a joking tone.

Slowing your pace, you find the door to your bedroom right ahead, which surprises you. You must have been so enraptured in your conversation with Bada that you didn't realize your legs were taking you back to your bedroom out of instinct.

Parting from Bada reluctantly, you stare at her with glittering eyes as you shift on your feet. "Thank you for coming to see me. I like spending time with you, even if it's only for a little."

Bada swears you’re trying to kill her, because why are you so sweet and lovely? All her life, Bada's dealt with ruthless businessmen, deceitful allies, and those who used her for personal gain. But you... you get genuine satisfaction out of simply seeing her. And she can't deny that she feels the same way.

"You're welcome," Bada says softly, rubbing her hand up and down your arm out of instinct. She doesn't realize the effect her touch has on you, but she sees the way you smile down at the floor. "You can visit me anytime, by the way. I wasn't lying before when I said I would enjoy you coming to see me." She admits brazenly.

"Okay then, I will." A brief pause of silence envelops you two before you turn to look back at your bedroom door. "I'm going to go take a shower. I'll see you later?"

"Of course," Bada nods. She steps forward to open the door for you, watching you head in before closing it behind you with one last small goodbye. She stays still for a moment, staring at the spot where you’d just been, lost in thought. When she finally recollects herself, she pushes her glasses farther up her nose and turns on her feet, about to head in the direction of her office. But upon beginning her stride, she is met with Hyo’s figure standing a few feet away. 

“Have a good afternoon, Boss,” she says calmly.

Bada’s mood plummets in an instant, her expression souring at Hyo’s flippant demeanor. She gives a low hum in response before continuing down the hall toward her office. 

That instance was only the mildest out of three that led up to Bada’s eventual break.

Instance number two occurred while Bada was hard at work. She’d been on a call, about to seal the deal on an important partnership between her and one of the lead car manufacturers in Seoul.

“I’m sure there are ways we can both benefit from this endeavor.” Bada’s voice projects into her work phone.

“There’s no doubt in my mind that you’re correct,” Nam-Su answers on the other line. “But I feel there are some logistical points that still need to be addressed.”

“By all means, ask me anything.” Bada walks around her office, making sure to remain attentive while Nam-Su speaks. If she manages to close this deal, her entire facility will have a steady supply of fortified and modified cars, perfect for jobs.

“Very well, my main issue stems from…” Nam-Su begins to rant, leaving Bada to simply hum in the background while considering his deal. Surprisingly, he had many valid and insightful questions–though she should have expected that from him. Nam-Su was always described as a cunning businessman–when he wasn’t telling jokes in the workplace. Still, Bada manages to reel Nam-Su in with her impeccable rhetoric, and persuasive offers. 

It seems like she’s just about to close the deal when a noise causes her to pause her pacing. She looks up from the floor, squinting with a confused expression to her right, where she thought she heard the noise come from. Her eyes find the window that oversees the large garden right outside her office, locking on the fountain immediately. Assuming that to be the origin of the noise, she turns away, tuning back into her conversation with Nam-Su, who’s now ranting about his breakfast for some reason.

“That’s quite interesting, Mr. Im, but going back to the deal, how often and at what speed are you normally able to create heavily modified cars?”

“Ah yes, usually it takes around–”

The noise cuts in again, making Bada’s head whip toward the window again, this time sure that she heard it. She steps closer to the window, once again squinting in hopes of finding the source. But this time, she does. And she almost wishes she didn’t.

Bada sees you first, twirling into view in a beautiful and elegant sundress, looking like a goddess among the flowers in the garden. You’re laughing boisterously–which Bada realizes was the noise she heard, the sound muffled because of the glass barrier–at something just out of her view. You move to sit on the edge of the fountain, kicking your feet up a bit and revealing the creamy skin of your leg. Bada’s lips curl into a soft smile out of instinct, the sight of you so happy and carefree so pure that she can’t focus on a word Nam-Su is saying.

But just like always, Bada’s never able to fully admire you in peace, because another figure emerges, a black blob disturbing the color and sanctity of the garden. It’s Hyo, of course, dressed in her usual black suit and dark sunglasses. However, one thing stands out to Bada.

Hyo’s smiling.

And not just a simple, small smile, no–she’s smiling widely, borderline laughing with you as she stands in front of you, saying something that makes you give her a cheeky look.

Then she sees it.

Atop Hyo’s head is a ring of baby’s breath flowers woven together to make a crown. And similarly, sitting on yours is a colorful combination of peonies.

Bada's left hand tightens into a fist as she stares at you both, laughing and giggling like schoolgirls with crushes on each other. What was going on between you two? Where did this sudden air of intimacy come from? Has it always been there? Had Bada just been too wrapped up in her work to realize you and Hyo were becoming suspiciously close?

Either way it doesn’t matter, because all Bada can think about is how badly she wants to be standing there in Hyo’s place, admiring you up close, and laughing alongside you without a care in the world. She so badly yearns to be the only one you allow to hear your melodious giggles or share intimate moments with. (So caught up in her own jealousy, Bada doesn’t even realize her thoughts are continuing to stray away from friendship, and farther into romance.)

Bada’s eyes narrow to slits, glaring at Hyo’s every micromovement and scrutinizing it. She briefly considers leaving the office to interrupt, but before she can, she notices you freeze in your spot. A second passes before your eyes meet Hyo’s and become wide. Tiny droplets of water begin to rain down from the sky in steady streams, dotting your dress and deepening its color. You stand up in a hurry, your smile remaining on your lips as you hold your hands above your head, trying to shield yourself from the rain.

Hyo looks up at the sky and says something Bada’s unable to hear, but she sees you motion towards entering the mansion again and feels a wave of relief flood through her body. The world must be on her side. Clearly, it despised the sight of you and Hyo together as well, if the heavy downpour was any indication.

And yet… Hyo takes a step to the side, grabbing something out of Bada’s view before she walks closer to you, revealing an umbrella. Your smile only widens, unheard words falling from your mouth as you sit down on the edge of the fountain again, this time with Hyo sitting next to you. Bada’s eyes switch to cold in an instant, and she bites her lip in frustration. But of course, it seems the universe wants to torture her more, because you start to shiver, the dewy rain on your dress most likely giving you a chill. Because of that you unconsciously lean heavier into Hyo’s side, until you give in and press yourself against her arm, shaking like a leaf.

The simple action makes Bada’s entire body light on fire, a deep-seated jealousy rearing its ugly head as her teeth dig further into her lips, the force so strong that if she didn’t stop, she’d end up breaking the skin of her lip.

In the garden, it seems Hyo has finally noticed your shivering, because she breaks away for a brief moment to tug off her suit jacket before draping it around your shoulders, and bringing you into her side again, nodding when you mutter something to her.

Bada’s hand tightens around her work phone with impossible force, a droplet of blood falling from her lip as she stares at you both through the tinted window of her office while you speak to each other, completely oblivious to Bada’s gaze, or her anger. 

“...Ms. Lee, are you alright?” Nam-Su’s voice breaks through the ringing in Bada’s ear, his tone a mesh between mild worry and genuine confusion at her prolonged silence.

“I’m great, Mr. Im,” she lies through her teeth, the glass screen of her phone cracking under the pressure of her hands.

The last instance, and the one that managed to finally break through Bada’s facade comes the night of Nam-Su’s ball. 

Having successfully sealed the partnership between them despite her distraction, the cheerful man sent Bada an invitation the day after, proposing to throw a celebratory ball. He not only invited her, but Bebe too, and made sure to include a plus one ticket–having heard the rumors of you through the grapevine.

Although Bada doesn’t normally enjoy social events, she realizes it’s an opportunity to spend more intimate time with you, and jumps at the chance. She asks you to go as her plus one, to which you immediately accept.

Now, on the night of the ball, Bada looks at herself in the floor-length mirror in her room. Her eyes run down her figure multiple times, looking closely for any imperfections; wrinkles in her dress shirt, the position of her tie, or a stain on her customized suit. She finds none, but does one last check before leaving her bedroom in search of you.

You–much like Bada had once been–are picking over your appearance nervously while endless thoughts pass through your mind. 

Tonight is a very important milestone in your relationship with Bada. Not only will you be making your public debut as her fiancée, as well as meeting multiple of her allied gangs, but this is also your first time attending a ball with incredibly high-profile socialites from all over South Korea. Disappointing their expectations of you or embarrassing yourself is not an option. Everything must be perfect for both your sake, and Bada’s. 

As if hearing your thoughts, a light rapping against your door alerts you of Bada’s presence. “Are you ready?”

“Yes!” You answer hurriedly, gathering your bag and rushing to exit. You step out of your bedroom with a nervous smile, turning to face Bada once you’ve closed the door behind you. 

Upon making eye contact with her, you immediately notice that she’s not in her usual black suit. Instead, she’s wearing an overall–looking suit jacket, one that somehow makes her even more attractive. She’s also wearing a ring on the middle finger of her right hand, as well as another on the knuckle of her thumb, which makes you swoon. Bada Lee is the most attractive woman you’ve ever seen.

While you appraise Bada’s appearance, your fiancée takes the chance to appraise you, but is struck with a bolt of shock at your choice of clothing. A ravishing, floor-length black dress with boning along the top adorns your figure, and pushes up the tops of your smooth breasts, displaying them, while a large slit begins along the side of it. It allows Bada to see the garter that holds up your mesh nylons–she feels herself gulp every moment her eyes instinctively dip down to look at your breasts or thigh.

 The dress is paired with lace gloves, and the necklace Bada had given you.

Each element paired together decorates your body like beautiful embellishments, creating the vision of perfection in Bada’s eyes.

Her jaw drops out of surprise and astonishment, but once her mind catches up, various thoughts start to form. They start relatively innocent, “She’s so beautiful.” But then they start to stray, “Everyone at the ball will see her.” Until slowly, apprehension builds in her stomach. “I don’t want others to see her like this.”

“Bada?” Your voice brings your fiancée out of her spiraling thoughts. “Should we get going?”

“Oh, yes.” She clears her throat awkwardly, trying to fight the heat that she feels forming in her cheeks. “Sorry, I was–” She stutters. “You look absolutely stunning.”

You laugh bashfully to yourself. “Thank you. You look amazing as well.”

Bada simply smiles back at you, still recovering from your radiance as she holds out her arm. You take it without hesitating, falling in line with her as you both start walking away from your bedroom and toward the stairs to the first level of the mansion. Hyo follows after you as always, keeping her footsteps light while you and Bada engage in conversation.

“When did you buy this dress?”

“I ordered it a few days ago.” You respond. “I wanted to have a more appropriate dress for the occasion.”

“Well, nobody will be able to keep their eyes off of you,” Bada says confidently, beginning the descent down the stairs, holding onto you tight and making sure to help you balance on your heels.

“You think so?”

“I know so.” Bada takes the last step down the stairs first, turning to hold onto your waist as she guides you off the stairs.

“Are we the last to leave?” You ask, noticing the lack of Bebe members.

“Lusher and the rest of the girls left earlier.” Bada nods. “I had them scope out the venue to ensure it’s safe for you.”

“But aren’t all the attendees allies?”

“Yes, so they say.” Bada moves toward the entrance of the mansion, pushing the doors open to reveal her sports car already parked in the cobble-stone driveway. “But after everything you’ve experienced recently, I don’t want to take any risks.”

Bada’s words take you back to the Seong incident, and how terrified you’d been, trapped in her hideout. Your lips curl downwards in a frown, your eyes falling to the floor in thought.

Bada notices the shift in your demeanor, and immediately pauses, turning to face you with a gentle and determined expression. “You don’t have to worry about that happening again. All of Bebe will be paying close attention to you the whole night, and I as well. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

You shake your head, “I’m not scared. I trust you.”

Trust. A bond Bada never thought she’d be able to make again since her mother died. And yet, with you, everything comes naturally and easily.

The car ride to Nam-Su’s is relatively long. You find yourself cycling through many conversations with Bada, ranging from what you did this week, to what she did. Eventually, the conversation strays back to the ball.

“So just how influential are the socialites attending?” You ask.

“Hmm, well in terms of power and connections,” Bada begins, “I outrank all of them.” 

“Really?” You awe. 

“Yes,” Bada nods. “But it’s still very important to make a good impression. They may not have as much influence on me, but making enemies out of them could be detrimental.”

“Right, of course.” You clasp your hands together tightly, hoping the pressure will alleviate some of the nerves building in the pit of your stomach.

“What’s on your mind?” Bada questions softly.

You glance at her and sigh, “I guess I’m just a little worried I’ll say or do something wrong. I’m not used to being around extremely important men and women.”

“You don’t need to be nervous.” Bada grabs your hands and parts them, weaving your fingers together. “You’ll do great.”

“I don’t know–”

“Hey,” She tugs gently on your woven hands, making you turn to face her. “just be yourself. If you do that, they’ll all love you.”

The car comes to a stop just as Bada’s words fade into the open air, driving your focus away from her briefly and to the window instead. Outside, there are already a few paparazzi gathered around the car, their cameras positioned upward, as they wait with baited breath for you to exit.

“Paparazzi.” You breathe.

“They don’t usually show up like this.” Bada frowns, taking her phone out and typing quickly. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it handled.”

Right as she finishes her sentence, all of Bebe walks out of Nam-Su’s mansion onto the driveway. Lusher and Tatter take the lead pushing the paparazzi away from your car, while the rest of the girls focus on creating a walkway for you both to use.

“Hyo,” Bada says firmly.

“Yes, Boss,” your bodyguard answers quickly, fully parking the car and exiting it. She moves to stand next to your side of the car, but doesn’t open your door, because Bada has already left the car and circled around toward you, opening the door for you.

She holds her hand out for you to take as you slide your exposed thigh out of the car, holding onto her as you move to stand up. Immediately, flashes from the paparazzi’s cameras start to bombard you, but thankfully Bada quickly adjusts her position so she’s standing directly in front of you, blocking the lights from blinding you.

Bebe also jumps into action, hollering at the paparazzi who become overeager and start yelling at you to show your face, or for Bada to move out of the way.

“Hey, who do you think you’re talking to?” Lusher asks loudly, her face scrunched up in disgust.

“Have some respect!” Minah adds, stepping closer to a paparazzo and making him back away. 

Bada remains unbothered by the yelling behind her, already used to the demanding nature of having a public life. “Are you okay?”

You take in a deep breath as you stare at Bada, before putting on a confident expression. “Yes.”

“Remember, just be yourself.” She whispers, linking her fingers with yours again. You from your joint hands to Bada, your eyes going wide as you glance at the paparazzi a few feet away, worried they’d see the display of affection. “Don’t worry,” Bada assures you, “they already know. They can’t do anything about it.”

Reinvigorating yourself, you nod firmly, signaling to her that you’re finally ready. Bada nods back, stepping aside so that you’re now shoulder to shoulder as you begin your stride toward the entrance to Nam-Su’s mansion. The paparazzi start to go crazy, snapping photo after photo of you two, but through the noise and the chaos you hold your head high, wanting to make Bada proud.

Behind you both, Hyo and Bebe do crowd control, surprised at the amount of paparazzi that have begun to slowly trickle in, solely focused on snatching an exclusive photo of you to plaster on headlines tomorrow. “Influential Socialite Bada Lee has found her partner?”

You try to dispel all negative thoughts as you stop in front of the entrance, Bada reaching into her left pocket to retrieve her invitation, and handing it to the man standing by the door. He barely takes a look at it before giving you both a bright smile, and motioning for you both to enter.

You look at Bada from the corner of your eye with an amused expression, which she mirrors. “Famous, are we?”

“What could have given you that impression?” Bada says playfully, guiding you further into the main hall.

You have to admit, Nam-Su really had taken no prisoners when it came to decorating his home. A large chandelier dangles low in the center of the room, glittering diamonds falling from the prongs like teardrops, and casting a low, beige light across the room. Tables hug the sides of the walls, with flowers tumbling out of their boxes atop of them, and adjacent to trays of small, Michelin star foods. Everything is beautiful, including the guests.

“Look who it is!” An excited voice reaches your ears, making you turn in that direction out of instinct. A woman with blonde hair, a bright smile, and a mature look heads in your direction. She’s wearing a low cut dusty pink dress that compliments her curves excellently. 

“Ohh, Kirsten!” Bada says excitedly, switching to English to greet her friend. She meets her halfway and gives her a friendly hug, before pulling away. “I didn’t know you were back in Korea."

“I have some business to oversee here before we’re back to Australia and the States.” The woman, Kirsten replies. Her eyes drift away from Bada for a split second, finding yours instead. Her smile immediately widens, noticing how your arm is looped with Bada. “And who is this pretty lady? I love your dress, by the way.”

“Oh, yes,” Bada turns to look at you, showing a genuine enthusiasm at the thought of introducing you to her friend. “Kirsten, this is my fiancée,” she mutters your name while you step forward, a friendly smile adorning your lips as you shake hands with the older woman. 

“Hello,” you greet her in perfect English, watching as her smile doubles in size. “Thank you, I love your dress as well.”

Bada speaks up again, gesturing to her friend, “This is Kirsten, she handles foreign affairs and runs her own group in Australia. We’ve been business partners and friends for a while now.”

“Hold on,” Kirsten cuts in, mimicking an offended expression. “I’m still surprised by the fiancée comment. Why didn’t you tell me you got engaged, Bada?” She acts like a mother scolding her younger daughter, making your smile widen and a small laugh fall from your lips.

“I was trying to keep it under wraps.” Bada says sheepishly. “I’m sorry.”

“You can make up for it by inviting me and the girls to the wedding as honored guests.” Kirsten remarks proudly.

“Ah, of course.” Bada nods, smiling widely. “Where are Audrey and Latrice, by the way?”

“Oh, it’s just me this time.” Kirsten clarifies. “They’re both still in Australia, handling things there while I’m here.”

“How often do you come to visit Korea?” You cut in, interested to learn more about her.

“I only really come when I’m needed.” She answers. “No offense, I love it here, but I get homesick very easily.”

“Oh, I would too.” You agree.

“Australia is my favorite place to be.” Kirsten says while making a heart shape with her hand, mimicking a thoughtful expression. Her youthful attitude makes your nerves slowly edd away as you laugh along with her. “Also, can I just say, your English is amazing.”

“Thank you so much.” You place a hand on your chest, the compliment making you smile.

“Of course, of course.” Kirsten takes hold of your hands, swaying them in a playful manner. “Bada, I think you really struck gold here.” She winks in your direction while looking at Bada.

“Yes, I really did.” Your finacée answers earnestly. All the while you and Kirsten were speaking, she’d been watching you silently, admiring the way you interacted with one of her close friends so naturally. If anything, she felt this proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were meant to be a part of her life.

“Ah, Ms. Lee!” Nam-Su’s voice interjects into the conversation. He stands a few feet away, his wife on his arm as he waves you and Bada over.

“Well,” Kirsten starts, “I’ll let you two go. It was wonderful meeting you!” She steps forward to give you a hug, surprising you, but you immediately reciprocate, already feeling comfortable around her.

“Thank you, I enjoyed meeting you as well!” You respond. Kirsten breaks away from the hug, muttering a goodbye to Bada as well before leaving to speak to another guest. You watch her leave for a second, then turn to face Bada. “She’s very sweet.”

“She is, isn’t she?” Your finacée takes your hand again, guiding you in Nam-Su’s direction.

“When did you two meet?”

Bada hums lightly, thinking. “I believe she’d just turned twenty, and I was around my mid twenties.”

“She’s younger than you?” You stare at her with wide, and shocked irises.

“Yes, she’s closer to your age than mine.” Bada nods. “Are you surprised?”

You nod, “She has a very mature look.”

“She does. But don’t feel bad, a lot of people think Kirsten is older than she really is.” Bada slows her pace as you both near Nam-Su, and switches to a more professional demeanor.

“Ms. Lee,” Nam-Su greets Bada again. He then turns to you, “and…”

“This is my finacée,” Bada introduces you to her business partner.

“Ah, I believe I’ve met your parents.” Nam-Su nods. “I see they’ve done well, you are a beautiful young woman.”

“Thank you so much.” You say politely, slightly bowing your head out of respect.

You, Bada, Nam-Su, and occasionally his wife, all engage in a comfortable, and friendly conversation. From this, you learn Nam-Su is a surprisingly carefree man, cutting into the conversation with random anecdotes and jokes. You end up enjoying yourself more than you expected to, but somewhere down the line, the conversation strays to Nam-Su and Bada’s deal, leaving you and the man’s wife out of the loop.

You tap on Bada’s arm lightly, diverting her attention away from Nam-Su to you. “I think I’m going to get a drink from the refreshment table.”

“Oh, sure.” She nods, giving your hand an encouraging squeeze.

“If you’ll excuse me.” You say to Nam-Su and his wife, gesturing toward the table across the room with champagne flutes and appetizers.

“Be my guest.” Nam-Su smiles.

You break away from the group, walking  toward the refreshments while letting out a deep breath. Although everything’s been going well so far, you still feel mildly stressed, constantly checking your posture and making sure to remember proper etiquette. Reaching the table, you grab a champagne flute, holding it up to your lips and taking a small sip. The bubbly alcohol runs down your throat with a mild burn, the taste sharp, but also sweet.

“You’re looking a little bit tense over there.” A voice comes from beside you, making you turn away quickly and cover your mouth in surprise. “Oh come on, do I look that old to you?” Hyo raises an eyebrow at you, crossing her arms across her chest.

“No, no.” You answer quickly, turning to face Hyo with wide eyes. But when you finally stand face-to-face with her, you’re surprised to make eye contact with hazel eyes, the black sunglasses she wears nowhere to be seen. “You’re not wearing your sunglasses…”

“Did you really think I’d wear them at this kind of event?” Hyo scoffs lightheartedly.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without them before.” You mutter, completely ignoring her question. “Oh, and about before, I don’t think you’re old, you just startled me.”

“Well at least you’re being careful.” Hyo shrugs. “Really sparing no expense on formality, huh?”

“This,” you gesture at the ballroom. “Is important to Bada.”

Hyo hums lightly, “It is for you as well.”

“Not as much as her.” You say softly. “Most of the people here have known her much longer than I have. I need to make a good impression.”

Hyo frowns at your words, placing her hand on your back and patting it lightly. “You need to loosen up, kid. Have some fun.”

“I’m trying.” You sigh. “But it’s hard to when all I can think about is the fact that I have to turn away from everyone to drink.”

Hyo laughs at your words, which makes a subtle smile form on your lips. “Well you don’t have to for Bebe, the Boss, or me.”

“You guys are the only exception.” You admit. Silence falls between you two for a few minutes while you continue to take small sips of your champagne, and Hyo turns to face the crowd of partygoers, watching them closely.

“Hey,” your bodyguard suddenly speaks up.

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t I take some pictures of you?” She makes a camera gesture with her hands, a playful look on her face.

“Pictures?” You glance around you with a hesitant expression. “Isn’t that inappropriate?”

“Come on, it’ll just be a few. You look cute, don’t you want to post them to social media?” Hyo insists. When you still give her a worried look, she sighs. “I’ll be fast, just give me your phone.”

You reluctantly hand her your phone, which she quickly taps into the camera app, taking a step back so she gets your entire dress and body in the frame.

“Okay,” she drags out the y in the word, “give me a sexy pose.”

You let out a deep breath before positioning yourself comfortably, and switching to a more alluring expression.

Hyo gives a hum of approval. “That’s good, maybe just turn to the side more.”

You do as she asks, the pose accentuating your nylon-covered thigh. 

“Perfect, stay right there.” She holds up a hand before tapping on your phone, and taking the picture. “Okay, another pose.”

You shift around a bit, now growing more confident as you stare into the camera intensely.

“Ohh, that one’s nice.” Hyo mumbles under her breath. “And, last one. Make this one cute.”

You immediately smile, changing your posture to be more youthful and relaxed. Hyo taps one last time on your phone before passing it back to you, muttering compliments. You glance at the photos, surprised by how good they came out. Your figure stands out amidst the partygoers behind you, the low light highlighting your features and giving you a subtle glow.

Truthfully, you look amazing.

“Wow.” You mutter.

“My picture taking skills are out of this world.” Hyo banters. You roll your eyes at her playfully, nudging her shoulder. “I’m kidding kid, you look good.” She looks over your shoulder at the pictures again, nodding. “You should post them.”

You contemplate it for a second before doing as she says. Opening Instagram, you make a new post with all three pictures, simply captioning them with a champagne emoji.

Time passes by relatively fast after that, women and men from across the room approaching you to make conversation and introduce themselves. You greet them all timidly but politely, Hyo moving to stand off to the side, silently remaining vigilant as you slowly begin to loosen up further, even making some friends with the women who compliment your dress.

However, across the room, Bada leans against the wall while holding a glass of champagne in her right hand, alone. After you left, Nam-Su only spoke to her a bit longer before breaking off to speak to other guests. It was then that Bada realized you’d been gone for a while, and turned to look for you, only to see Hyo standing next to you, taking pictures of you.

Like clockwork, that venomous and sickening feeling of jealousy bubbles at the surface, making Bada’s expression immediately sour, and her gaze lock onto you both. She waited for Hyo to stop taking pictures of you so she could approach you, but just as soon as she did, other women started to gather around you, their voices just barely reaching Bada’s ears across the room, but she was able to make out every compliment they hurtled your way. And while Hyo fell back into her role as a bodyguard, that didn’t stop other women–and eventually men, from circling you and talking your ear off.

You stand in the center of it, looking shy and a bit reserved, but it seems that only makes them swoon even more. Like a new blooming flower amidst a garden of plain roses, you stand out like a beautiful jewel.

It makes Bada sick to her stomach. She has to watch from afar as their eyes stray from your eyes, dipping down to your breasts or your thigh, their gaze caressing every feature of yours like predators.

She only lasts a few minutes like that before she pushes off the wall, about to interrupt and make it clear to the crowd around you that you’re already spoke for–that you’re hers, and they will never be able to lay their hands on you like they desire to–when a loud voice stops her.

“Bada!” The voice says excitedly.

Bada turns to face the source, mentally cursing herself for not moving faster when she sees who it is. “Raong.” She says with a light sigh.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see you before! How long have you been here?” Raong attaches herself to Bada without a care in the world, missing how the older woman tries to avoid the touch.

Raong is the daughter of Dong-Geun, one of Bada’s oldest business partners. A while back, when he caught word of Bada being rumored to take over her deceased father’s gang, he’d offered one of his sons up as a potential suitor, trying to make her family. But of course, Bada immediately denied. Though she didn’t explain why at the time, Dong-Geun later found out it was because she wasn’t looking for male suitors.

Since then, he’d begun shoving his daughter at Bada, practically begging her to marry Raong. Bada refused once again, this time because she wasn’t looking for a spouse at the time–or ever. At least, that’s what she believed back then.

Eventually, after years of bothering her, Dong-Geun gave up, realizing it was better to keep Bada as a business partner rather than distance her from him by pushing his daughter onto her day after day.

But it seemed Raong never got the memo. Because although she only spoke to Bada a few times at most, she somehow managed to develop a puppy crush on the (much) older woman. She never left Bada alone at events, becoming a nuisance like no other and making Bada hesitant to make public appearances.

“I arrived about an hour ago.” Bada replies in a monotone voice.

“Really? That’s so long ago.” Raong says, making her eyes go wide in an attempt to look cute. Something that fails miserably.

Bada says nothing in response, instead lifting her glass of champagne up to her lips, about to take a sip of it when Raong suddenly grabs it.

“You really shouldn’t be drinking so much!” She pouts. “It’s bad for your health.”

“It’s champagne.” Bada deadpans, already feeling the soul being sucked out of her.

Raong smiles cheekily, glancing between the alcohol and Bada. “You’re right.” She lifts the glass up to her lips, placing them directly onto the spot Bada had hers on, and takes a big gulp of the drink. She pulls away with a proud look, holding the glass up for Bada to take. “Here.”

“No thank you.” Bada immediately answers, her face stone cold. “I’d rather get a new one.”

For some reason, her comment makes Raong laugh loudly–incredibly loud–to the point that other guests turn their heads in her direction, their expressions showing a mix between shock and disapproval.

“Bada, there’s no need to act so shy.” Raong says, completely oblivious to the negative attention she’s garnered. “We may be in public, but everyone knows that we’re the most attractive couple here.”

“Couple?” Bada scoffs. “Where did you get that from?” Out of instinct, her eyes move from Raong’s figure to search for yours. And when she does, a revelation like no other dawns upon her.

You’re standing in the middle of a circle of men and women like before, but instead of speaking to them, your eyes are solely focused on Bada–no, focused on Raong, who clings to her like a needy girlfriend. Your expression shows nothing but absolute discomfort and anger, a look Bada’s never seen you wear before.

You’re jealous. She realizes, the thought echoing in her head over and over again and making a strange, satisfied feeling build in her gut. You must be feeling like she’d been for the past few days while watching you and Hyo interact–full of resentment and annoyance at the woman touching her.

Then, another thought comes to mind. Will she act upon her jealousy if I push her more?

Bada knows she shouldn’t be this petty. As the older woman in the relationship, and the one more emotionally mature, she should put a stop to Raong’s advances, walk up to you, and whisk you away, ridding both of your sour feelings so you can enjoy the night together free from inhibition.

But the more sinful part of Bada wants you to fully understand how she’s felt the past few days–the turmoil and envy that comes from seeing someone you care about fall into the arms of someone else.

Unfortunately for you, Bada will almost always succumb to sin.

“Come on Bada, I know you feel something for me.” Raong pushes herself against the older woman’s arm, trying to make her breasts pop, and look enticing.

Although Bada feels nothing at the action, she plays along. “You’re right, I do.” She says in a low voice looking down to stare directly into Raong’s eyes.

Bada’s behavior even surprises her, the younger girl gapes for a bit before quickly switching back to her piss-poor attempt at being seductive. “I’m so glad you’ve finally realized we’re meant for each other.” Her voice pitches upwards, trying to do an aegyo voice.

The result only causes a nails-on chalkboard effect, almost making Bada wince and break her facade. But before she can, she quickly glances at you. You’re still staring at her, your expression now much further into the territory of anger, before you shift your gaze somewhere else hastily, trying to make it seem like you hadn’t been glaring at her and Raong.

“I’m sorry it���s taken me this long.” Bada turns back to Raong, playing the act up by tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

The action makes you gasp across the room, daggers physically puncturing your heart.

Bada hears the sound, and has to stop herself from smirking too widely. Yes, finally you understand how it feels.

Raong swoons at Bada’s display, turning away from her with blushing cheeks and giggling loudly.

“Hey, Boss!” Lusher suddenly appears on Bada’s other side, trying to look casual as she glances between Raong and her friend. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” Bada says casually.

“I mean, why are you all over,” she lowers her voice to a whisper to say the next word, “the pest!”

“I’m not all over her, I’m simply being polite.” Bada mutters back, discreetly glancing at you yet again.

“Yeah, right. When have you ever been polite to her?” Lusher catches her straying gaze, finding you on the other side of it. Immediately, it all clicks in her mind. “If this is about what I said a few days ago–”

“Shouldn’t you be keeping a lookout right now?” Bada cuts her off sharply.

“Boss…” Lusher says in a disapproving tone. Her friend doesn’t budge, instead turning her back toward her and speaking to Raong again. Sensing the conversation is over, Lusher walks away with a pit of guilt burning in her stomach, seeing you struggle to hide your emotions as Bada pretends to fawn over the younger woman beside her.

“What’s going on?” Kirsten stops at Lusher’s side, her eyebrows dipping downward as she observes Bada’s strange behavior.

“I think I might have caused this.” Lusher admits, hanging her head in shame.

If someone were to ask you how you were feeling at the moment, the best word to describe it would be "out-of-body."

You truly feel like you’re watching the events in front of you unfold as an omnipotent being. Your eyes are able to take in every movement of both Bada and the girl on her arm to the finest detail, which proves to be a cruel form of torture.

Why is this happening? You find yourself questioning over and over again in your mind. Why is Bada acting this way? Why is she allowing that woman to touch her? And why does it look like she enjoys it?

You swear you feel bile form in your throat with every touch they exchange, and although there’s nothing more that you want to do than to run away in shame, you physically can’t. You’re rooted to the floor like a statue, cursed to watch your fiancée flirt with another woman.

Perhaps this is your fault for being so naive. Did you really think that Bada would remain loyal to you when your engagement had been a business deal from the start? When she so firmly stated that she’d never fall in love with you? How could you have believe that she felt something for you when she touched you so gently, smiled at you, and made you laugh?

Had Bada been secretly having affairs with women from the start? Had she touched them like she did, you? Did she mutter to them how beautiful they looked? Did she undress them with her eyes?

…How could you be so stupid–so young and stupid.

But the worst is yet to come.

You watch in slow motion as the woman beside Bada shifts on her feet, putting all her weight onto her tippy toes as she reaches up to place a kiss on your fiancée’s lips. They’re just about to touch–

“Alright kid, let’s go.” Hyo steps in front of you, blocking your view of Bada and the woman. She grabs onto your arm in a hurry, taking off her jacket and placing it on top of your head to shield you from any straying gazes as she fast-walks you out of the Nam-Su’s mansion, barely managing to tell Lusher that she’s taking you home before you’re out of the door, the only evidence of your attendance the droplets of small tears dotting the floor.

The entire car ride is dead silent, Hyo’s lips sealed tight into lines, and not a single sound coming from you in the backseat that she has to check every few minutes on you to make sure you’re still there.

You are, but your head is down, her suit jacket blocking her view of you as you fight back waves of tears building in your eyes.

“Bada, I have to tell you the truth, I’ve always been in love with you…” The second those words left Raong’s lips, and she began leaning upward in an attempt to kiss her, Bada knew she went too far.

She immediately breaks away from Raong’s hold, the disgusted face she’d been trying to hold back for so long surfacing in an instant. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What do you mean?” Raong still keeps her voice artificially high, trying to get closer to Bada again. “Are you too shy to do it in public? Should we go somewhere private–”

“I will be going nowhere with you.” Bada interrupts in a stern voice, straightening out her suit. “I’m engaged.”

Raong’s smile finally drops, a sour look crossing her face. “So you really did propose to another woman.” She glances from the floor to Bada again, mustering up another embarrassing “sexy” look. “But it’s fine, she doesn’t have to know.”

Bada scowls at the younger woman. “I mean this in the most polite way possible,” she watches as Raong starts to frown, “I would never choose you, or any other woman over my fiancée. She is the only woman I will ever touch, or kiss.”

Raong stands in front of Bada, frozen and humiliated beyond belief.

“I suggest you stop making advances toward me, if you know what’s good for you.” Bada finally says the words she’s been wanting to for years now, and it’s like a weight has been lifted off of her shoulders. She leaves Raong standing there without a second thought, heading in your direction before she stops, realizing you’re not there anymore.

Her eyebrows furrow, an immediate spike of worry hitting her heart as she searches for Lusher through the crowd of partygoers. 

When she finds her friend, she walks as quickly as possible towards her. “Where did she go?” Bada says, looking from one side of the room to the other in a frenetic manner.

Lusher glances at Kirsten who stands next to her, hesitating before answering. “Hyo took her home…”

Bada’s eyes narrow to slits in milliseconds. “Lusher, I’m taking your car.”

The Lee mansion feels eerily quiet when Bada enters, the lights reflecting off the white marble flooring, casting an ominous glow as she ascends the stairs.

Although she knows the mess she’s caused is purely her own fault, a part of her wants to deny it. She wants to call it retribution for all the mental torment she’s experienced over the past few days.

She wants to call it that, but she knows she can’t.

Standing in front of your door, Bada’s eyes find Hyo’s figure with ease. Your bodyguard is wearing her classic sunglasses again, but this time she doesn’t greet her superior. She doesn’t even acknowledge her presence, simply stands there, her lips in a firm line with her arms crossed against her chest.

Bada briefly considers speaking with Hyo, but eventually decides against it, knowing she should check on you first, before anything else. Her hand reaches up to knock on the wood of your door, the sound echoing through the hallway as she retracts her fist.

She waits there for about three minutes with no response before pushing the door open and entering your bedroom.

Most of the lights have been turned off, just one raining down a small amount of light and illuminating the room. Bada closes the door behind her, the guilt that had already been brewing in her stomach doubling when she notices you’re not in bed, but sitting in front of your vanity with your dress still on, staring at your reflection with an emotionless expression.

Bada mutters your name, stopping a few feet away from you. “I knocked on your door, did you hear me?”

You don’t respond, only continue to stare at your reflection, completely disregarding her presence.

Bada frowns at you, clearly disappointed by your silence. “You shouldn’t have left so suddenly. I was worried about you.” This time, she sees something shift in your eyes, but still, you remain quiet and stock still. Bada huffs, becoming increasingly frustrated as she gets closer to you, stopping right by your side. “Is that Hyo’s jacket?” She gestures to your bodyguard’s suit that’s strewn across your shoulders.

This time when you don’t answer her, Bada finally snaps, releasing the tension that’d been brewing in her for so long.

“Would you say something to me?” She says, the words coming out much harsher than she intended them to.

Your lips stay stuck together for a minute before they finally part. “What do you want me to say, Bada?” Your voice sounds an equal mix of tired, and uncharacteristically cold. “You made yourself perfectly clear at the ball.”

Your fiancée stares at you from through the reflection of the mirror, trying to lock eyes with you. “Why are you acting this way?”

“Why am I acting this way?” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “You shouldn’t ask such obvious questions.”

“I’m asking because I don’t know.” She lies through her teeth. She does know, and despite that she continues to push you, wanting to hear you say the words, “I’m jealous.”

“You know, if you wanted to fool around with other women, the least you could do was take it somewhere private where I wouldn’t have to see.” You shoot back, tone bordering on venomous.

“I wasn’t fooling around with her.” Bada denies firmly. “And you’re one to talk.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You finally look away from the mirror, turning to face Bada with a furious expression.

“Hyo took you home.” Your fiancée lists. “You’re wearing her jacket. She took photos of you while we were at a public event. You’ve been spending a lot of time with her.”

“Oh please, spare me, Bada Lee,” you interrupt, your voice rising. “She’s my bodyguard! And I don’t touch her like you touched that woman. I haven’t kissed her–”

“I didn’t kiss Raong,” Bada interjects.

“I spend so much time with her because all you do is work all day!” You continue ranting. “I have never once disrespected you like you just did to me thirty minutes ago.”

“It’s not like that–” Bada tries to explain herself, but now that you’re speaking, you can’t stop.

“I know you said that you would never fall in love with me, but what the fuck?” You exclaim. “How could you just kiss her in front of all of those people when you introduced me as your fiancée?”

“I didn’t kiss her.” Bada reiterates, feeling her patience wear thin.

“Some of the guests know my parents!” You’re bordering on tears once again. “Can you imagine what they’ll think when they hear that my future wife kissed another woman in front of the most influential people in South Korea?”

“God damn it–” Bada steps forward, her frustration finally getting the better of her as she grabs you by the waist, pulling you flush against her body, forcing you to look into her eyes. "I never kissed Raong," she says again, her voice full of force. "I would never kiss her. I would never kiss a woman that isn't you."

Silence falls heavily across the room, your expression shifting from anger, to confusion, then to surprise.

“If you believe there is another woman out there that I would rather press my lips against, you’re crazy.” She whispers.

You stare into Bada’s eyes, completely taken aback by the sudden turn of events before your eyes slip downwards, to where her lips are.

Bada does the same, although she takes it a step further, bringing her thumb up to press onto your bottom lip, watching the plush skin accommodate for the pressure she applies.

“I want you,” she mutters inches away from your lips. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I met you.”

As if an invisible string had been snapped, both you and Bada surge forward, placing your lips against each other with unrestrained passion. Bada’s right hand grabs onto the side of your face, tilting your head backward as you two move in synch, completely lost in the taste of each other. She pulls you in even closer to the point that your chests knock against each other with every labored breath, the desire between you two so strong that you can’t help but moan.

Bada hears the sound and feels a pulse go straight to her cunt, the build-up to this simple kiss being so long that she can’t help but revel in it. She bites down on your lip and the second you part your lips to gasp, she slips her tongue into your mouth.

Your teeth clash in a heated dance, your tongues caressing each others as Bada turns you around so your back is toward the direction of your bed, walking you backward quickly so that you fall onto it, your body laid out on the cushion like a fallen angel. She follows you onto the bed, keeping herself above you with a single hand as she continues to kiss you deeply, a small string of saliva falling from your lips because of your sloppiness.

Bada’s other hand busies itself by grabbing onto your exposed thigh and hiking it against her hip, pushing her thigh between the gap of yours. Finally she pulls away, both of you panting loudly into the open air of the room. “Fuck.” Bada curses. “I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.”

Your arms wrap around her shoulders, wanting to kiss her again because of her confession.

“I bet you’ve wanted to too, huh?” She smirks, leaning down to just barely graze her lips against yours, not quite giving you what you want. “That’s why you got so jealous when you thought I kissed Raong, right?”

You huff at Bada’s words, hearing that woman’s name you frustrates you.

“Oh, are you mad?” She taunts you, laughing. “Yeah, you’re really mad aren’t you?” The hand that’d been stationed on your thigh moves under the fabric of your dress and inwards, towards your hot and sticky pussy. “You’re mad because you imagined me touching her like this, didn’t you?” Her fingers ghost against the material of your underwear, already finding a wet patch forming at the bottom of it.

Bada smirks widely. She’s got you right where she wants you.

“Did you imagine me touching her through her panties?” Bada’s fingers move up and down the wet patch, making it grow with every passing second.

You bite your lip, trying hard to suppress your moans at the feeling of your finacée’s long fingers touching you where you need her most.

“Did you imagine me playing with her pussy and making her moan like a whore?” Bada nudges her nose with yours, enjoying every second of your withering composure. “Huh? Are you going to say something?”

You shake your head, wanting to deny the fact that you indeed had imagined all those things in your blind fit of jealousy, which only made you spiral further.

“No?” Bada whispers in a higher-pitched voice, trying to mimic you.

You don’t respond.

“Say something.” She demands, her voice dropping and her eyes narrowing into a glare. It lacks any real hatred or heat but does burn with sexual desire. “Say something or I’ll leave you here wet and panting bitch in heat.”

You finally release your lip, completely believing that she’d leave you like this. “No, please,” you whimper quietly.

“Ah, she speaks.” Bada smiles, continuing to circle your clit with her fingers, now applying more pressure. “Now tell me, did you imagine any of those things I described to you?”

Again you grow quiet, embarrassment flooding your veins.

Bada’s smile drops in an instant. “What did I say?” She withdraws her hand from your clit, moving it back toward your thigh.

“Wait–” you cry out, looking completely in anguish. “I did! I did!”

Bada hums in approval, placing her fingers against your underwear again. “Which one?”

“I–” The words die on your tongue, the small pressure that Bada’s applying to you making your sensitive body go haywire.

“Which one?” She says again firmly.

“The–the last one!”

“Oh baby,” Bada pouts mockingly, “that’s not good enough. Tell me exactly which one.”

“I imagined you playing with her pussy.” You admit, feeling more shame in that moment than you ever had before.

“Good job, babe.” She praises you. “You finally got the words out. Should I give you a reward?”

“Yes, please,” you practically beg.

“Well since you asked so nicely,” Bada looks at you through hooded eyes, smirking. She pulls away the material of your panties and inserts her finger, your hot, wet walls sucking her in compliantly.

"Bada!" You all but scream, your legs jerking in pleasure.

"You're so wet," Your finacée whispers, hearing the sheer amount of slickness your body produces. "Is this all for me?"

"All for you, Bada." You immediately reply, tears beginning to build in your eyes.

"Good." Pumping her finger agonizingly slow, Bada flips the fabric of your dress up so she can watch your pussy open and close, beating against her finger in a fast rhythm.

"Bada–" You whine, closing your eyes and trying to move against her long, firm finger. "Touch me more, please."

"Yeah? You want more?" Bada says, continuing her slow pace.

"Yes." You cry.

"But do you think you deserve it?" She asks, glancing between your wrecked pussy to your face, which is beautifully expressive.

“I don’t kn–” you hesitate, “yes, I do.”

“I don’t know.” Bada cocks her head to the side, staring at you deeply. “You spoke to me very rudely just moments before.” She makes a thoughtful expression before looking down at you again. “I think you should apologize.”

“I’m sorry–” you begin, but she cuts you off immediately.

“You should apologize for wearing this dress to the ball.” Bada insists. “For looking so fucking sexy and letting everyone eye fuck you while I had to stand there and watch.”

“I’m s–”

“Apologize for making me think you and Hyo were fooling around behind my back.”

At this point you’re so far gone and dizzy, you don’t even fully register what she’s saying, only that you’re desperate for her to touch you more.

“I’m sorry for everything, Bada.” You say through heaving breaths.

Your fiancée gives you a satisfied smile. “I accept your apology, baby.”

Wasting no more time, Bada dives in with an almost inhumane speed, placing her mouth against you, and letting her tongue part your pussy lips as she drives it straight into you. She's rewarded with another loud, pornographic moan as she begins to slurp your juices up, volatile sounds coming from her mouth, and your slick pussy.

Bada’s nose presses against your clit in a dreadfully delicious way, stimulating it and making your legs shake around her head.

“Bada!” You chant her name like a prayer, feeling insane amounts of pleasure you never thought you’d experience in your lifetime.

She mumbles something back, the words lost against the skin of your pussy as she moves her tongue in and out of you faster, adjusting her grip around your thighs so she presses even more of your weight onto her.

Bada pulls away with a heaving breath, her chest rising and falling at a concerning speed. But she doesn't stop, she never does, and before you know it she's diving back in, licking and sucking on your pearly-shaped clit, giving you dizzying pleasure.

She flicks her tongue a few more times, dragging her lips and pressing them firmly down until she's driving her tongue back into your pussy, and moving her tongue around your walls, sucking up all the wetness you produce.

And there's tons of it—some of it is dripping down Bada’s chin in a nasty combination with her spit, the murky substance stickily beading down until it drops onto her clavicle.

"Oh fuck," you moan, your head being thrown back with your mounting pleasure. Although it felt like she’d just started, you already feel an orgasm building in the depths of your stomach. "I think I'm gonna cum!"

Briefly popping off your pussy, Bada's raspy voice speaks up. "Do it. Drench me baby, fucking cream all over my face."

Your world goes white for a long moment, your fiancée’s chants egging you on, telling you to just let the pleasure consume you. So you let it happen, you let your pussy throb and release its slick all over Bada’s face.

Quiteness follows your orgasm, but the buzzing in your ears doesn't leave you alone, nor does your bride-to-be.

“Oh baby,” Bada’s head backs away from your body, the lower half of her face absolutely drenched in your cum. She licks her lips, savoring every droplet of your essence, “you taste like a fucking dream.”

“Bada.” You whine, her words making your pussy go hot again. “Don’t say things like that.”

“What? You don’t want me to tell you how pretty your pussy is?” She leans over your face again, wiping your cum off her face with her fingers and licking it after. “Don’t want me to tell you that I could die a happy woman between your legs?”

You wrap your legs around Bada’s waist, pulling her in closer so you can give her a kiss. She lets you, thankfully, and on her tongue you can taste yourself, which makes you moan.

When she pulls away she’s wearing a much more tender look, like your kiss had brought her back from a trance. “I’m not done with you yet.” She whispers, bringing her hands down to grope your tits through the fabric of your dress.

Although it’s late and you’re already tired, you still nod at her, slipping into a submissive state yet again.

Bada smiles at you before completely getting off of the bed, making you stare up at the ceiling in confusion. You prop yourself up on your elbows to see what she’s doing, and what you see is nothing short of heavenly.

Bada’s stripped herself of her tie, her customized suit jacket, and is now only in a white dress shirt–but not for long. She chucks off the wrinkled shirt, revealing the black sports bra she was wearing under, and… a pair of muscled arms and abs?

You shouldn’t be surprised, really. Naturally, as the leader of a mafia group, she’s required to stay relatively lean and strong, yet every divot and curve of her muscles makes you want to jump her bones even more.

Bada doesn’t even realize you’re staring, she’s much too busy taking off her pants, now only in her sports bra and her boxers, with something else in her hand. She looks up then, finding you practically gaping at her, making her smirk.

“Already have you star-struck and I haven’t even started yet.” She chuckles, taking the thing in her hand and placing it closer to the ground so she can step through it.

It’s then your eyes focus in on it, realizing that–oh.

A long, girthy black strap sits across Bada’s pelvis. Your eyes widen, your heart racing a the monstrous length and girth of her strap, as well as the texture and ridges on it. You weren't just going to be fucked, you were going to be absolutely destroyed.

“When did you–” your voice dies out, completely lost for words.

“I made a stop to my bedroom before coming here,” Bada answers easily. “Call it wishful thinking, but I felt I’d need it.” She grabs a bottle of lube from the pocket of her dress pants, about to apply some to her cock when she sees movement out of her peripheral and stops.

Absolutely mesmerized, you crawl over to Bada, the material of your dress slightly pulled up so she can trace the curve of your plump ass.

Reaching out an excited hand, you grasp the base of her cock, and open your lips wide before placing them on the mushroom head of her strap.

Immediately Bada drops the lube, her head dropping down in awe to watch you lick and suck on her cock, her jaw falling open. "Fuck." She grabs your head softly, helping you move up and down, her eyes rolling shut. For a second Bada feels like the strap attached to her really is her cock, and that she can feel your plump lips move against it, bringing her unbridled pleasure.

Your slobber drips all the way down her strap and wets her grey boxers, the material turning a damp shade darker. Bada pulls you down her cock gently, trying to avoid gagging you too harshly, but she can't deny the jolt in her cunt when she hears you struggle to take the inches, a slight choking sound murmuring against the black plastic.

"You like that, don’t you?" Bada finally gathers her bearings enough to speak again.

Your eyes glisten with tears as you nod, moving off of her cock to gasp out a breath. "Please, can't wait any longer."

"Okay, baby." Bada nods, giving into your wants easily and moving on top of you again. "I’m going to make you feel so good, honey." Taking her slick cock, she gently guides it to your pussy. "Open wide."

You immediately comply and spread your legs as wide as you can, watching with parted and panting breaths how your fiancée finally nudges the head of her cock into your pussy.

Slick and wide, her cock splits your pussy open only with its mushroom head inserted, making you let out a debauched and loud moan, the sound reverberating against the walls and filling every pore in the room.

"Shit." Bada curses, feeling herself come to a stop with how hard you're clenching down on her strap. "You've gotta relax, pretty. You're very tight."

Huffing, you attempt to relax your muscles, and slowly but surely, she’s able to nudge in another inch or two before you start clenching down hard again. Her thumb comes up to your clit and rubs it gently, making your eyes close and another moan slip from your lips.

"C'mon babe, take a nice deep breath in and relax." Bada guides you, rubbing your clit with slightly more force, and at a faster speed.

"Okay." You choke out, taking in a long and shaky breath.

She feels you loosen a bit, and again she takes the chance to slide her cock further inside you, and she's finally able to slip it all in. She breathes out a long, drawn-out curse when all she's able to see of the black plastic is the small sliver of the base.

"There you go." Bada pulls her hand up to your thighs, squishing their flesh in her grip and rubbing soothing circles into them.

Your pussy clenches at your finacée’s raspy praise, a strangled whine leaving your lips. "Bada—"

"Shhh," Bada moves forward, even able to push slightly more of the strap into you as she reaches over to give you a sweet kiss, shushing your loud cries. "I've got you. Promised I was gonna make you feel good, remember?"

"Mhmm." You hum, your eyes sparkling.

"I'm not going to let my wife down." Bada keeps to her promise and begins moving, her strap slowly pulling out of your wet pussy, then firmly coming back in and making your back arch.

"Holy shit." You awe, your mouth falling open. She hadn't even started yet. Bada then begins to pick up her pace slowly, pulling and pushing through your pussy's walls, the base of her strap slapping against your lower lips and making loud sounds fill the room.

"Damn it," Bada curses, her eyes drinking in the sight of you. Plump lips parted open, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, your dress falling so that your tits are spilling out and bouncing in kind with her harsh thrusts.

Leaning forward, Bada takes a nipple into her mouth, her unoccupied hand grabbing and caressing the other, her eyes falling closed at the feeling of your tit in her mouth. Fuck, if she knew she could have had you like this long ago, she wouldn’t have waited so long.

But in a weird way, the wait made it even more satisfying, made the sounds of your pornographic moans even more sweet to Bada’s ears. 

"Bada!" There's not a single thought in your mind anymore, the space being occupied by the woman who is thrusting into your pussy at a dizzying speed, and covering your tits in her spit. The woman who swore she would never fall in love with you. The woman who’d risked her life to save you from kidnappers. Your fiancée.

Bada's mouth leaves your nipple with an obscene pop, the flesh around it slightly bruised a darker color from her sucking. "Does that feel good baby?"

"It feels so good." You almost scream, your eyes now opening to see Bada’s frantic thrusts, and how sweat is starting to form on the arches of her brows. "You're so good."

Bada closes her eyes, your words going straight to her cunt. "It's about to get a whole lot better." She leans forward again, this time grabbing your legs and folding them up, then pushing them as far as they can into your chest, giving her uninhibited access to your pussy.

You're seeing stars, you're sure of it. Bada's cock is lodged so deep in you, you swear you feel her in your stomach, your eyes widening to the size of saucers. She pounds into you at an incomparable speed, wet, sloshy sounds squirting from your pussy, making a beautiful melody with your moans, and Bada’s low groans.

A ring of cream begins to form around the base of her strap, the milky white substance catching her attention and making her teeth grit painfully against each other. "Are you close?"

"Yes, yes! Don't—don't stop!" You cry out,  your bedroom ceiling moving in your vision with every thrust of her strap.

Bada's breath catches, feeling the stimulation of her strap rubbing and pushing against her cunt build up into an orgasm. "Fuck, me too." She dips down to give you a purely tongue kiss before pulling away, panting. "Cum. Fucking cum, honey. Cum all over me."

And you do. Your mind goes blank and you let out your loudest, most obscene moan and cum on Bada's cock.

She follows close behind, letting out a low and drawn-out groan, cumming in her boxers.

Your body becomes liquid against your sheets, the only sound in the now quiet room being your staggered breath, and your fiancée’s panting.

Kissing your ankle, Bada gently unfolds your legs, making sure to be careful as she lays them back against her bedsheets and slowly pulls some of her strap out of you. You wince a bit and let out a choked whine, which she quickly silences with a sweet kiss and mumbled praises.

"It's alright, honey. You're good, you're with me." Eventually, Bada's able to fully usher her cock out of your still-tight walls and take off her harness, throwing her strap into some random, unimportant corner of the room. "Great job. You were so good, my love."

"Bada." You croak without thought.

"Yeah, honey?" Bada coos, caressing your cheek with her rough thumb.

"I'm tired."

“I know, sweet girl.” She mumbles, placing her forehead against your own. “Catch your breath, okay? I’ll clean you up. You don’t have to do anything.” Staying there for only a few more seconds, Bada sits up and walks to your bathroom, grabbing a towel and running it under some water before returning to you. She gently parts your legs, shushing any hisses of pain that leave your lips as she cleans you up, and helps you out of your tight dress.

Once you’re rid of your clothing, she moves to sit next to you.

“How are you feeling now?” She asks, staring down at you with nothing but love in her eyes.

“Sore.” You admit.

“Already?” Bada looks down at your legs, frowning. “Here,” She places her large hand on your thigh, slowly kneading your flesh in soothing circles, making you let out small, blissful sighs. “Does this help?”

“Yes.” You nod, smiling at her before closing your eyes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey.” A comfortable silence settles into the air between you two before your finacée breaks it. “About before,” she suddenly begins, her voice low and remorseful. “I’m sorry for what I did.”

You stare at her quietly, then speak up. “Why did you do it?”

Bada looks down at your body and sighs. “I wanted you to understand how I felt.”

“What do you mean?”

She shifts her gaze to your eyes. “I’ve been jealous of you and Hyo for days now.”

“Hyo?” You say incredulously. “Wait, is this about her taking me home? Because she only did that to stop me from seeing you and that woman kiss.”

“It’s not just because of that.” Bada shakes her head. “You two have gotten very close recently, and I didn’t know how to feel about it.” She closes her eyes, reaching deep within her to find the right words. “I guess I felt envious because she can spend all her day with you, while I’m constrained to my limited free time to see you.”

Slowly, the wheels in your cogs start to turn, and suddenly everything makes sense. “Bada, Hyo is like an older sister to me.” You tell her. “I don’t see her in that way.”

Your fiancée opens her eyes, staring at you with a mildly surprised look. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” You nod.

“Oh, I see.” Bada moves her hands to your other thigh, starting to massage it. “I don’t see Raong in any romantic light either, by the way. I’ve been trying to get her off my back for years.”

“Well, clearly she doesn’t understand.” You huff.

The action is so cute, Bada can’t help but laugh. “Believe me, she understands now.” When you give her a confused look, she elaborates. “When she tried to kiss me, I told her I had a fiancée.”

Bada’s words make you smile shyly, butterflies dancing in your tummy.

“And…” She trails off, a soft smile also finding her lips. “I told her that I’m in love with my fiancée, and I would never so much as think about devoting myself to anyone other than her.”

The l word that falls from Bada’s lips makes your eyes grow impossibly wide, and your lips part in astonishment. She watches it all, never shifting her expression away from being loving.

“Bada…” you trail off, tears in your eyes. “I love you too.”

Gazing into the other’s eyes, you meet halfway in a sweet kiss, one that seals your love, and commitment to each other. 

“You are my everything,” Bada mumbles against your lips. “I will always succumb to you.”

taglist:

@aericrys, @somerandomtinyperson, @bluebada, @dallaji, @luvjanexx, @hyejuwu, @diana-rose-25, @jjlovesbada, @cephox, @prilux, @youknow1234, @fae-the-wanderer, @mightymyo, @aein-tings

(if your name is crossed out i wasn't able to to tag you)

want to join the taglist? send me a message or comment saying you'd like to be on it, and i'll add you!

[zepskies]

Something Real

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean W. x F. Reader

Summary: Now that you and Dean are officially engaged, you take some much needed time off together for a family vacation. But even with the wedding set for next year, the two of you are still at odds when it comes to one key part of your future together…

AN: And we’re back in the world of Smoke Eater! I’ve been trying to figure out a way to come back to these two for a while now, and this idea finally struck me. I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 6.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Major fluff, angst, PTSD/mentions of sexual harassment (references to Smoke Eater Part 13), family feels, hurt/comfort, and smut.

Catch up on the SE-verse: ⤵️

🔥 Smoke Eater Masterlist

“Dean, are you okay?” you asked.

The man was white knuckling both armrests in his seat, taking pains to breathe in and out steadily. He nodded the slightest bit, humming to himself all the while. You bit your lip to hide your smile. 

The plane had just taken off about ten minutes ago.

“Are you singing yourself a lullaby?” you asked.

“Metallica. Calms me down,” he replied. 

This, from the man who storms burning buildings.

You couldn’t quite stifle your laugh, though you rubbed his arm. Somehow you managed to slip your hand into his, peeling it off the armrest. 

“We’re almost up to altitude. You’re going to be just fine,” you told him.

It didn’t matter. The plane hit a bump of turbulence, which had him squeezing the shit out of your hand. You tried to brave through it for his sake, but eventually, you had to tap out. 

“Babe, you’re gonna break my hand,” you hissed. With your free appendage, you squeezed his wrist to get his attention. Dean finally realized what he was doing to you, and he let you go. 

“Sorry,” he said, his face contrite.

Your lips twitched. You leaned down to grab your purse and dig inside for your sunglasses. You handed them to him.

Dean glanced down at the brown Dolce & Gabbana shades with skepticism. 

“I don’t need your girly sunglasses, thanks,” he said.

“Trust me,” you said. “It’ll help block out some light, so you can close your eyes and try to take a nap.”

“The only way I’m sleeping on this tin can is if you knock me the hell out,” Dean said, matter-of-fact. “Ask Sam if he’s got any Ambien.”

You glanced across the aisle and shared a wry look with Sam and Eileen. Sam shook his head, despite the knowing smile on his face. You turned back to Dean.

“No, not Ambien. Andréa sleepwalks when she takes that shit,” you said. You guided his head toward you so that he rested on your shoulder. You stroked his cheek. “Just relax.”

Dean let out a long, unsteady breath, but he tried to follow your lead. He took your hand again, not in a crushing way this time. He turned it over and admired the shining ring on your finger. The diamond on it was modest, but charming and unique in its setting. 

“Hmm, who got you that rock?” he asked. His tone was teasing, making you smile. 

“The smokin’ hot guy I’m living with,” you replied. “He finally decided to make a move.” 

Dean hummed again, raising his brows.

“Good-looking, smart, and decisive. This guy sounds awesome,” he said.

You pressed a kiss to the side of his head.

“Mhmm, a sexy firefighter. And he’s a Captain now, so I guess that’ll make me his trophy wife,” you teased back. Dean’s shoulders shook with the effort of keeping his laughter quiet. Your smile deepened.

“But he saves lives too…including mine,” you added. “So I guess I can’t complain.”

Dean raised off your shoulder then, just to look at you with a softer smile of his own. 

“Well, a pretty girl like you? He’d probably say he got really, really lucky.”

His lips closed in on yours, and you allowed him to draw you into a languid kiss while he laced his fingers with yours. His thumb brushed the engagement ring he gave you, just two weeks ago. His mother’s ring.

It’s the best gift you’ve ever been given. 

Oh, hell yes, you thought, when you opened the door to the hotel room. It was beautiful. Stunning really, with a king-sized bed and a view of an enormous pool. 

Dean was busy hefting his suitcase and one of your carry-on bags. He whistled in amazement when he saw the room. 

“Damn, Sam sure knows how to find a quality Groupon.”

But he struggled to get in the door with all the luggage he was carrying. You held the door open for him. 

“Careful with that one,” you said, pointing to your bag that kept knocking between his hip and the door as he shoved through. 

“Why’s this thing so heavy? Did you bring Kansas with you? Goddamn,” he grumbled. He was all too happy to dump your bag on the bed. 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. You parked your own suitcase on the side by the window. You already knew Dean was going to claim the side closest to the door. 

“That bag is just makeup, skincare, and hair products,” you informed him, hefting your bigger suitcase onto the bed. “This is for clothes and shoes.”

Dean shook his head in bemusement. “You’re friggin’ crazy, woman.”

“I need options!” you said defensively. “I didn’t know for sure what I was going to want to wear on this trip. I haven’t been on vacation since I was a kid.”

“Oh yeah? Where’d you go?” he asked while unzipping his own suitcase.

“Disneyland with my grandparents, which was awesome. But I was like, eight at the time,” you said. 

They were fond memories, even though no one was left to remember them but you. Still, you tried not to let that bittersweetness dim your good mood.

It was still hard to talk about your grandparents at times, especially because the loss of your grandfather was still so fresh. You didn’t feel like you had enough time to properly mourn him, thanks to everything else that was going on then. (Namely Nick and Daniel Savage, and everything in between.) 

Getting over that time was getting easier though, as the months wore on. Sometimes it was hard to believe you’d been with Dean for almost a year. And yet, it felt like so much longer. Like you’d lived half a life with him already. 

You went over to look out the window and held your hands on your hips. It was nighttime, but the streets of Miami, Florida were well-lit beyond the pool, and there was something beautiful about a bustling city at night. 

“Now this is an adult vacation,” you said.

At that, Dean smiled and walked around the bed to you. He slipped his arms around your waist and held you from behind. You held him right back.

“Damn right it is,” he said. “What do you wanna do first? Dinner, and then check out some nightlife, or skip right to dessert?”

You smiled at the way his voice lowered with thinly veiled suggestiveness. 

“Well, I know how much you love dessert,” you said slyly.

Dean’s smile deepened into a smirk.

“Yeah, that may be,” he said. “But don’t pretend you don’t love some hot lemon drizzle.”

You spluttered a laugh, beginning to blush at his hefty double meaning. He cradled your cheek and bowed his head, so he could catch your lips in a deep kiss. You made a sound of surprise, but you soon melted against him.

Already this was worth the several-hour plane ride of Dean bouncing his leg and steeling your iPad so he could distract himself. After the year you both had, all you wanted to do was spend the next few days with no responsibilities, no drama or worries—just your fiancé and your soon-to-be brother and sister-in-law…

Your newfound family. 

The night was spent at a nice Cuban restaurant in Miami Beach. Afterwards, you, Dean, Sam, and Eileen explored the boardwalk, and later the downtown Bayside area where a number of shops and kiosks were bustling with life. This was technically Sam and Eileen’s bachelor and bachelorette trip, so you all weren’t wasting any time to explore and see the city.

By the end of the night, you only had enough energy to shower and hit the bed face-first. Dean was actually on board with that, as he was the first one to start snoring on his side of the bed.

The next day though, you felt rested and ready to chill by the pool. Miami Beach itself was a bit too crowded for your tastes, and the others agreed that hanging out at the hotel for a while would be more relaxing after all the travel the day before. 

However, when you looked at yourself in one of the two-piece swimsuits you bought specifically for this trip, you couldn’t help but feel…self-conscious. The bikini and bottoms weren’t scandalous, really. You’d seen a lot of thongs, beads, and G-strings already on this trip.

It was just…you were a bit wary of showing this much skin in public. 

You didn’t want to think about the reasons behind your unease, however, so you tried to push it out of your mind for now. You put on a long sundress over your swimsuit and finished up your makeup.

A few minutes later, a knock sounded at the bathroom door.

“You done in there, your majesty? I’m getting hungry,” Dean said through the door. 

“One more minute. Doing my lipstick,” you replied. “You know we can order lunch by the pool, right?”

“Yeah, if we ever get there,” he said. You were amused when he opened the door. He was already dressed in a loose shirt and board shorts. His eyes swept over your white sundress and red lipstick, and he smiled. 

“Lookin’ good, baby,” he said. Though he raised his brows and met your gaze in the mirror. “So can we go?”

You had to laugh.

“I guess we better, before your stomach eats itself,” you quipped.

You lightly smacked the back of your hand against said stomach before you slid past him out the door.

You and Dean ventured downstairs and out back to the pool, where Sam and Eileen had already saved a few deck chairs. While Sam and Dean went to order some food and cocktails, you started pulling out the sunscreen and towels from your beach bag. 

“Eileen, you need some sunscreen?” you asked. Your friend was already taking off her shirt and little shorts, revealing a cute violet bikini and bottoms underneath. Her brown hair was loose around her shoulders. She shook her head at your question with a smile. 

“No, I’m good. Wanna go in?” she asked, and signed, before she pointed over to the pool. 

There were already a couple of families in there with their kids splashing around by the shallow end. That didn’t bother you. It was more the men of various ages milling about, either in the pool, flirting with girls, or by the tiki bar, drinking and likely waiting for opportunities.

You tugged the V-shaped collar of your sundress closer together.

“Not just yet. I think I’ll have something to eat first, try to tan a bit,” you said. 

Eileen gave an “OK” sign and headed for the pool. 

You shucked your sandals and moved your chair under a large umbrella, but you still had to fan yourself. It was hot as hell, and your dress had long, billowy sleeves.  

Sam and Dean eventually returned with some drinks. 

“Food’s gonna take a bit, so we probably have time for a dip,” Dean said, handing you a piña colada. He noticed you wiping sweat from your brow. 

“Come on, you can cool off in the water,” he said. 

You waved him off. “It’s okay. I’m good here for a while. Think I’ll work on my tan.”

Dean rose a brow and gestured at you with a hand. 

“You’re gonna do that in the shade, dressed to the ankles?” he asked.

He made a good point, to which you didn’t have a good answer. You sipped at your sweet drink and hummed at the rummy, coconutty taste.

Dean could see there was something off with you, though.

“You okay?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. I guess I just don’t feel like swimming, that’s all.”

Dean quirked a brow. You bought three different swimsuits for this trip, but you didn’t want to swim? He pulled his deck chair closer and sat on the edge of it beside you. 

One thing he’d come to know about you. When something was bothering you, you didn’t always want to tell him right away. Often when it was something you felt embarrassed about. 

He nudged your thigh playfully. “Tell me you’re not gonna make me third wheel the married couple.” 

You smiled. “They’re not married yet.”

Three months wasn’t a long time though. You were going to be the Maid of Honor, with Dean, of course, as the Best Man. 

“Semantics,” Dean shrugged. He slipped a hand over your knee and squeezed. “Come on. Talk to me.”

After a moment in which you held his gaze, you sighed. You beckoned him closer. Dean leaned over so you could brace a hand on his shoulder and speak close to his ear. 

“It’s kind of embarrassing. I just, um…after everything that happened last year, especially before Christmas, I just don’t feel comfortable showing so much skin,” you said. “I don’t want to…attract attention.”

Surprise hit Dean first. He pulled away and frowned at you. But then, his face soon dimmed with grim understanding. 

Christmas. In other words, a Christmas party at your old job that had taken a turn for the worst.

Dean knew you had to be talking about Nick Savage. 

That bastard was dead and gone, and still, the way he’d sexually harassed you for months was still affecting you, months later. Dean let out a heavy breath through his nose. He reached up to cup your cheek. Your eyes lowered.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I knew what I was signing up for when we started planning a beach vacation. I guess it just didn’t really hit me until now.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “But you know I’m gonna be with you. Nothing’s going to happen.”

You nodded; you knew he would protect you in any circumstance, but it didn’t stop men from looking when they had the chance. You just didn’t feel totally comfortable with that kind of attention. 

Sensing he hadn’t convinced you, Dean tried to think of a solution.

Then, he had it. He held a finger up in the air. “Ah, here.”

He pulled off his shirt by the back of his neck. You watched him in curiosity.

“This’ll cover you up. You can go ahead and jump in the pool with this,” he said, handing you the shirt. 

Your brows knit together. “But you won’t be able to wear this later. It’ll be all wet.”

“That’s okay,” Dean said. “It’s hot as hell out here. And we’ll just be going back up to the hotel room anyway.” 

You bit your lip. He made a good point. You were probably going to look weird jumping in the pool with a whole long-ass shirt on, but at least you’d be covered. His shirts tended to reach down to your thighs, where a pair of shorts might cut off. 

You smiled and leaned in for a kiss. You stroked his scruffy cheek.

“Thanks,” you whispered. 

He nodded with a smile. “Just call me the Problem Solver. No, the Solution.”

You smirked and twined your arms around his neck. 

“I prefer Captain,” you said.

Dean’s smile deepened. “You really like that, huh?”

“I really do,” you replied cheekily.

After one more sweet kiss, you asked him to stand in front of you while you took off your long sundress and changed into his shirt over your swimsuit. Afterward, he pulled you in by your waist and spoke close to your ear. 

“I like seeing you in my shirt anyway,” he said. You smiled and playfully shoved his arm. 

You accepted his lingering hand on your lower back and followed him to the pool. You felt a bit awkward wearing a shirt that billowed in the water when you stepped in, but you decided to ignore the feeling and just try to enjoy being on vacation with your family. 

Sam and Eileen welcomed you and Dean over. Eileen did question your state of dress with her eyes, but when you leaned over and explained in her ear, her eyes widened, and she understood. She gave you a look of sympathy and rubbed your arm. 

You sighed, but again, you tried to let it go. 

You two chatted for a while after claiming a corner of the pool, also watching Sam and Dean swim competitive laps back and forth. 

You were engrossed in your conversation with Eileen about her new group of students, when Dean came up from under the water to splash you both. You shrieked with a laugh as you fended off the onslaught, but he hauled you into his arms. 

Sam wisely pulled a laughing Eileen out of the orbit. Together they split off for some canoodling, and once he was done playfully trying to dunk you, you were happy to wrap your arms around Dean’s shoulders and float with him in the water.

Dean made way for a couple of kids as they splashed by. A younger girl and an older boy chased each other while swimming with little floaties on their arms. Their parents were keeping a watchful eye on them nearby. Dean smiled and laid a kiss just under your ear.

“That could be us pretty soon,” he said.

“Yeah? How soon are you thinking?” you said in bemusement.

“Hmm. How about next year?” he said, more serious than you expected him to be. You raised your brows at him. 

“Dean, we’re not even getting married until next year,” you pointed out. He shrugged and held you a bit tighter. You felt his fingers drifting up and down your bare thigh.

“So we’ll get a head start on the family thing,” he said, grinning. 

You couldn’t help but dim at that. You didn’t want to disappoint him, but you also felt you had to inject some reality here. You turned in his arms so that you could face him.

“Babe, I just started my catering business. If I get pregnant, at some point I’ll have to take time off, put everything on pause,” you reasoned. “And…I’m not making the same money I was before.”

At that, Dean began to frown. “I make decent money.”

You nodded, smoothing a hand down his arm.

“Yes, you do,” you agreed. 

Aside from his usual hours at the firehouse, Dean had earned his mechanic’s certification a few months ago. So he’d started a side job at Bobby’s salvage yard. He was slowly but surely turning it into a more profitable mechanic’s shop, with Bobby’s blessing. 

“But, I think having a baby is going to be a little more expensive than you realize,” you said. “I just want to be more stable with my business before we start a family.”

Dean was quiet for a beat.

“How long then?” he asked.

“I was thinking more like…a few years or so,” you said. Dean’s face fell further, though he tried not to show the true depths of his disappointment. 

“Okay, well uh…” He wiped a hand over his mouth and chin. It was an anxious tick of his, you knew. “I guess we’ll talk about it later.”

The conversation settled with putting an implied “pin in it,” but an invisible thread of strain formed between you and Dean for the rest of the afternoon.

Hours later, you and Eileen broke off together to go shopping. You both were trying on clothes at a nearby mall, since she was toying with the idea of wearing something new for dinner tonight. She stepped out of the fitting room to show you a white form-fitting dress that slipped over her curves nicely.

“Oooh, that’s beautiful,” you said, with a little clap of your hands. “And oh! Thinking ahead, you could wear that for the wedding reception too, if you don’t want to deal with the whole wedding dress after the ceremony.”

You knew that her dress had a lot of tulle under the skirt, which might make it difficult to dance in. Eileen gave that idea some consideration, though something occurred to her with a certain smile. 

“Well, this dress might not fit so well by then,” she said.

Your brows knitted together. “What? What do you mean?”

Eileen paused for a moment, but she seemed to come to a decision in her mind. She smiled and beckoned you over. You went to her, and she led you to a nearby chaise in the dressing room.

That was where she whispered the news that she was six weeks pregnant.

Your resulting squeal of excitement startled all the other women in the dressing room, including the store’s attendant. You covered your mouth with an embarrassed wave, but you turned back to Eileen and took her hands in yours.

“We were gonna tell you and Dean tonight at dinner,” Eileen said with a laugh. “We found out right before the trip.”

Huh. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t remember her drinking even one cocktail on this trip so far.

“Oh my God, I’m just…” you trailed, as emotion surged in your heart and made your eyes all misty. “I’m so happy for you.”

Eileen laughed and pulled you into a hug.

She explained to you that when she first told Sam on a Tuesday morning before work, he’d fallen into a haze of shock, to a point where it had kind of worried her. But then she showed you a picture on her phone of the first thing Sam bought when he got home that day: the tiniest pair of blue booties.

You laughed again, and cried again. So tiny…

“Of course he assumes it’s a boy, but we’ll see,” Eileen said, with a roll of her eyes. Her soft smile was telling though.

“How do you feel?” you asked, wiping under your eyes.

She paused at the question. She tilted her head, and she raised her gaze to meet yours. 

“I’m happy,” she said. “Really happy.”

It was your turn to give her a big hug. And your tears fell anew as you came to another realization.

As usual, Dean was ready for dinner before you. He sat on the edge of the bed while putting on his watch. It was his father’s watch, which John gifted to him for his birthday. Though it had actually belonged to John’s father, Henry. 

Dean blew out a breath. Despite his attempts to try and just have a good time tonight (Sam’s advice), he couldn’t forget his conversation with you earlier today in the pool. He didn’t want to move too fast for you, but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that he was still fighting his disappointment, and maybe some melancholy.

Just lock it up, asshole, he told himself.

When you were done putting on the finishing touches on your makeup in the bathroom, you came out and stepped into his line of vision.

“What do you think?” you asked. 

Dean’s head lifted, and his eyes widened. You were a sexy sight in black. The dress stopped at mid-thigh, paired with some of the tallest heels he’s seen you wear since his very first date with you. 

“Damn,” he said lowly.

You smiled and stepped forward, not stopping until you were standing between his long legs. You took his face in your hands and gave a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. Dean breathed into it, and even needed a bit of a moment to recover when you pulled away.

“Hey, about what we talked about today—” you started. He cleared his throat, raising a hand. 

“It’s okay. You’re probably right about all that. The timing’s not right,” he said.

You brushed your thumbs against his cheeks. “But that’s just it…maybe we don’t have to wait so long to start a family.”

Dean perked up, giving you a questioning look. You set your hands on his shoulders. He grasped your hips, almost on reflex.

“Maybe when we get home, we crunch some numbers and figure out how we can do this,” you said.

He shook his head with a frown. “I don’t want you to lose steam on your business. You’ve waited a long time to make that happen.”

You sighed. He was sweet for that, but you’d thought about that too.

“Like I said, we can figure out how to make it work. No matter what job I have, having kids was always our plan.” A smile raised the corners of your lips. “And you know, we have so many people in our lives that’ll want to help us, even if it means we have to work a bit harder.” 

Dean’s eyes started to brighten, but he didn’t want to hope too hard. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to tell me what I want to hear,” he said. 

“I’m serious, Dean. I wouldn’t play about this,” you said, squeezing his shoulders. “This is worth it, and I want this with you.”

He started to soften then, and even smile. He got to his feet and wrapped you up in his arms. He held you close, pressing another kiss to the side of your head. 

“What changed your mind?” he asked. You bit your lip on a smile.

“Well, if I tell you, you have to promise to act surprised when you hear it later.”

Dean’s brows shot up. “Okay. Color me intrigued.”

You leaned up to his ear and said, “Eileen’s already pregnant.”

And your man full-on malfunctioned. He held you tighter, more to brace himself. 

“Holy shit! For real?” he asked. You laughed and nodded.

“Looks like they got a head start on the wedding,” you said. 

“I’ll fucking say,” Dean replied, but his grin was so wide, it made you smile harder.

“They didn’t plan for it, but they’re going to make it work,” you said. “It made me realize…we can do the same thing. Just with a bit more planning.”

Dean laughed at that. He knew your anal brain all too well, but in this, he could understand. His hands moved down your lower back.

“Well, you know how we can get ahead of the game?” he said. You knew what he was suggesting with only his eyes, and his meaningful touch.

You would’ve loved to take him up on that, but you glanced pointedly at the digital clock on the nightstand.

“Sam and Eileen are probably waiting for us downstairs,” you said.

Dean sighed, rather dramatically in your opinion. He still bent down to kiss your neck, nipping a bit hard just under your ear. It made you jolt with a surprised yelp.

“We’re not done here,” he said. The depths of his voice made you shiver, but you smiled. 

“I’m counting on it.”

You all got back from dinner late, after much celebrating for Sam and Elieen’s news. Dean even bought a bottle of champagne, which poor Eileen couldn’t partake in. (He ordered her a large piece of chocolate cake  to make up for it.)

You and Dean returned to the hotel room, but tonight, thoughts of sleep were still far from your mind. You sat on the edge of the bed and slipped off your heels, followed by taking off your earrings. You also watched Dean remove his watch and undo the first few buttons of his dress shirt in the bathroom mirror. 

He spied you watching him, and his lips quirked up at the corners.

“What’cha lookin’ at?” he asked in amusement. 

Instead of answering him, you stood up and made your way over to him. You hugged him from behind. 

“I really needed this,” you confessed. “Getting away from home for a while…I’m reminded that everything I need is right here.”

Dean turned in your arms and pulled you in close. He gave you a slow kiss that simmered with heat.

“Yeah, me too,” he agreed. He caught sight of your bikini and his swim trunks dry on a bathroom rail, and a smile grew on his face.

“Hey,” he said. “I’ve got an idea.”

“We’re so not allowed to do this,” you giggled quietly. 

The pool and the surrounding cabanas were empty. Not only was it very late, but the pool was supposed to be closed. However, it did allow you to feel comfortable in taking off your sundress, remaining just in the vibrant green bikini you were wearing earlier today. Dean took you by the hand, and the two of you tried to keep quiet while stepping into the pool.

“Oh, God, it’s freezing,” you whisper-laughed. Dean’s jaw locked, but he was also smiling, trying not to shiver.

“Aw, shit!” he said, when the water got past his waist, hitting his more sensitive areas. “Why’s it so damn cold?”

You moved closer to him and slipped your arms around his middle, trying to steal his body heat. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

“I guess they count on the sun to warm it up,” you replied. “We are in the Sunshine State after all.”

“Know it all,” Dean playfully groused. “I’m freezing my tits off.”

You saw the goosebumps that had broken out across his arms, and yours too. You smirked and teased one of his hardened nips with your fingers.

“Yeah, you are,” you agreed. He laughed and looked down at your bikini top, raising his brows at the stiff peaks.

“So are you,” he said. If you two stayed in here much longer, his nads were going to pay the price. “Maybe this wasn’t one of my best ideas.”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head and hugging him tighter. “Definitely one of your best. But maybe let’s hop in that jacuzzi over there.”

Dean twisted his head in the direction you were pointing, and sure enough, there was a nice hot tub a few yards from the pool. You both left the pool and braced the cool air on your skin long enough to run to the jacuzzi, quietly laughing all the while. 

Dean turned the dial on the heat and cranked up the bubbling, and soon you two were able to relax together in the much warmer water. He held you to his chest, his fingers dragging up and down your arm, while you just took in some deep, relaxing breaths. You let go of every bit of stress that might’ve still been clinging to your psyche. 

A few minutes in, you turned your head to press a sweet kiss under his jaw. His wet scruff prickled against your lips, but you didn’t mind. 

“Ever think about letting this enter beard territory?” you asked. 

“Eh,” Dean shrugged, still rubbing some warmth back into your arm. “Not really my look.”

“It could be,” you said. A smile curved your lips. You turned in his arms to straddle his lap, where you got the leverage to cup his face. You gently scratched your nails along his stubbly cheeks. 

He raised a brow. “You want me to go full lumberjack, don’t you?”

“Maybe not full lumberjack,” you teased. “I’d settle for quarter-lumberjack.”

Dean chuckled loud enough that you had to shush him, with your mouth covering his. His heavy hands spanned your lower back as you treated him with progressively dirtier kisses. His hands lowered to grip your ass, encouraging you to grind down on him. You were more than willing to oblige him. 

Even with the light of the moon, a large palm tree covered the jacuzzi in some shade. It made the empty courtyard feel a little more secluded. You felt just secure enough with him here to reach down below the water. You slipped your hand under the waistband of his shorts, where you began to stroke his hardening length to full mast. 

He groaned into your mouth and squeezed your hips on reflex. 

“Better be careful, baby. You’re playing with fire right now,” he said gruffly. He had no compunctions about finishing what you’d started, right here and now. 

You smirked, but you did pull your hand out of his shorts and took his hand instead. 

“Come on,” you whispered.

When you and Dean made it back to the hotel room, it was a quick stop to the bathroom.

He guided you back against the tile wall in the shower and stole your breath with a hard kiss. His hand flew to the shower knob and turned on the water. 

Luckily this shower had a ledge for shampoo bottles and soap. You knocked all of that shit over when you hiked your foot up on it. You raked your nails through his hair and left his lips, just to suck harder on his neck.   

In turn, Dean untied your bikini with a practiced hand and let it drop with a wet thwap on the floor. He kneaded your breasts and rolled his thumbs over hardened nipples. He actually rubbed some warmth back into your skin as his hands migrated down your body. And he helped you shimmy out of the bikini bottoms, just as you helped him with the shorts. 

He took a healthy grip of your bare ass and again ground you against him, making you smile against his neck. But his fingers slipping between your legs disrupted your train of thought entirely. You felt his fingertips at your entrance, probing your depths, just testing the waters first. You gave a needy hum and clung to his arms.

He chuckled near your ear. “Already soaked, huh?”

“You didn’t exactly play fair,” you said, panting for breath. He hadn’t stopped touching you all the way from the jacuzzi to the elevator. You hadn’t even completely dried yourselves, leaving a trail of water from the scene of the crime, all the way up to the third floor where your room was. 

Dean earned a wanton moan from you when his fingers roughly massaged your clit. Your head pressed back against the tile wall, your hands clasping on his shoulders tight as a shudder of pleasure rippled through your body. He stroked you right to the edge of pleasure, until he could start to feel you tighten on him. Then he withdrew his hand. 

You whined at the empty feeling, giving him a look of annoyance. “Dean?”

“Patience,” he smirked. He used your wetness on his fingers to stroke himself back to painfully hard.

You scoffed at his words. This man didn’t often have a patient bone in his body. 

But once he was ready for you, he took advantage of the way you’d hiked up your leg, and he held you open while he positioned himself at your entrance. He took your hand and moved it down to replace his fingers on your clit. 

“Keep touchin’ yourself,” he ordered. His voice became laced with both grit and desire. You followed his directions and kept circling your fingers around that sensitive bundle of nerves, even though it forced a keening moan from your throat when he pressed his cock inside you. 

“Fuck, don’t stop,” he muttered. Your inner walls were squeezing on him tightly, like you were already halfway there. Dean aimed to catch up with you as he grabbed your hips and set an almost punishing pace. He wrapped your thigh around his hip so he could get an even deeper angle to his thrusts. He grabbed onto the shower head when he felt his foot slipping a bit in the tub.

You hung onto him by the back of his neck as the coil in your lower belly became dangerously tight. “Oh, fuck. Dean…”

He knew you were close. He could feel it. He replaced your fingers with his own over your clit, searching for the spot he knew always made you come undone. 

And he knew when he found it—you cried out at the warm pulsing in your core as it quivered around him. 

“Let go, baby,” he said roughly in your ear. He gave you a few more hard thrusts, both to draw out your orgasm and to finally reach his own. His balls clenched and a ragged groan escaped him, along with his release coating your walls. 

By now, the hot water from the shower head had turned lukewarm, but neither of you really cared, blinking drops of the spray out of your eyes as you each caught your breath. Dean brushed your wet hair away from your neck. You smiled, and you guided him by his cheek, back to your lips for a softer kiss. 

“‘S a damn shame you’re still on the pill,” he remarked. 

You blinked in response. When his words finally registered, you burst out laughing. You pressed your forehead against his. Jesus, did this man have baby fever. 

“Let’s just get married first. Then we’ll work on it, I promise,” you told him. “Besides, we don’t want to steal your brother’s thunder.”

Dean grimaced and made a sound of disgust.

“For fuck’s sake, you mind not mentioning my brother at a time like this?” he said.

To be fair, he was still deep inside you. He slipped himself out and let the shower head begin to wash away the remnants. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you laughed and drew him back in for another kiss. 

Despite himself, Dean couldn’t help but smile against your lips. His left hand twined with yours, where your ring glistened under the florescent light. 

A year ago, he never thought he would be here. A year ago, he didn’t plan any further than tonight, and how he was going to get back to his life tomorrow. 

A year ago, while he did have his brother…Dean still felt alone. 

Now, he had something real. He was on the cusp of sharing the rest of his life with someone who understood him, supported him, loved him, despite the demands of his job. 

Now, he had an actual future to build with you.

And he was more than ready to get started. 

AN: I so hope you guys enjoyed this addition to the SE-verse. Let me know what you think! 😘❤️‍🔥

(Also, just to let you know, this sequel story might be made into a podfic, so stay tuned if that interests you!)

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Smoke Eater Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

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@iprobablyshipit91 @melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found

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@chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420 @illicithallways @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

[verahella]

♡ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓 — 𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 ♡

his shoulders slump the moment he enters through the door, crinkles of a smile unconsciously softening into a tired expression. he plops down onto the couch, resting his head against the back of it and crossing his feet on the marble coffee table in front.

gojo’s throat is dry from a long day of teaching but his legs ache and he can’t bring himself to get up and get water right now.

his students had done well today, he thinks. the trio was improving, slowly but surely, he could see everyone getting over sukuna.

the thought lifts a small smile to his face.

he closes his eyes, exhaling slowly. his head is pounding and he has a sudden, strange craving for your homemade tea (with lots of honey to match his picky taste).

he used to stick his tongue out in disgust at your ‘healthier choices’ but now he can’t help but miss the warmth of it stinging his tongue, sweetness spreading on it before your lips replaced it.

too bad you were out on some mission tonight.

satoru doesn’t register the comforting scratches on his head, only letting out a small hum.

“what’s got you smiling like that?”

“the misery of missing my wife.” he mutters. his eyes open with a flash when he recognises your laugh.

he turns his head around, watching you stare down at him with a soft smile. “you must hate her very much then, no?”

(he can’t. even if he begged on his knees, he couldn’t hate you. every fibre in his body, the strands of his very soul, would oppose anything but loving you, devoting himself to you.)

“yes. she’s a demon for leaving me alone here.”

you shove his shoulder lightly, “i came back, didn’t i?” you always will.

he moves to his knees on the couch, encircling his arms around your waist and pulling you impossibly close. “thought you weren’t gonna be home until tomorrow.”

“i finished early.” you comb your hand through his hair, “couldn’t risk you burning down my kitchen.”

“have some faith; i would only set the ugly curtains on fire.” he murmurs, settling his face into the crook of your neck. it fits perfectly. he breathes you in, the scent of home filling his senses.

“you okay there?” you mumble, swaying slightly to balance his weight on you.

“‘m fine. just missed you.”

you smile. he sounds so small, a hint of rare vulnerability in his tone, yet he doesn’t shy away from it like he used to when he first met you.

that genius of yours, he acts like a toddler more often than not, yet his true inner child is buried deep in, a part of his heart waiting to be unlocked. (you’re glad you’re the one he handed the keys to.)

he relishes in the small pats of your hand on his back, a good job at the end of a long day. you’ve learnt even the strongest require appreciation sometimes.

the both of you stay like that for a while, time pausing until its just two souls entangling with each other where they find home.

you smoosh his cheeks together as you plant a kiss on his nose. “i love you.”

he grins, charged up from your touch, “how could you not? it’s me we’re talking about.”

you chuckle, tracing a faint scar on his cheek. from back when infinity didn’t isolate him from the world. “glad to see you’re feeling better, narcissist.”

“i’m also handsome, rich, immeasurably funny—”

“and arrogant.” you interject.

“it’s part of my charm.” he winks. “i’ve found out these days that i’m pretty mean too.”

you tilt your head, “mean? how?” it doesn’t seem likely to you that this six foot lump of annoyance could be anything like mean.

“i ate the last cookie.”

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part six)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)

Steve allows himself a brief mental breakdown in the shower when he gets home. He lets the water mix with his tears as he curls his arms around himself and wishes with everything he is that they were Eddie’s. There’s nothing he wouldn’t give right now just to be held by him again, just to feel Eddie’s arms around him one more time. All it took was a tiny kiss on the back of his hand for Steve’s skin to remember just how much it missed that feeling. Now Steve’s entire body craves Eddie’s touch, and he shakes in its absence like an addict in withdrawal. 

Then he puts himself back together, gets dressed and styles his hair and heads off to work. 

They’d defeated Vecna before he could split the world into pieces or whatever his diabolical plan had been. So while Steve’s whole world may have been torn apart, while Steve’s whole world lays bruised and bandaged and amnesic in a hospital bed, the rest of the world carries on none the wiser. The rest of the world still rents VHS tapes and has movie nights and date nights and no fucking clue that they were seconds away from being dragged down into a hell dimension a couple weeks ago, so Family Video is still open for them. Fuck that. 

“You’ve gotta handle the customers today because if someone starts asking me stupid questions I can’t promise I won’t snap at them,” Steve tells Robin as he drives them to their shift. 

“Aw, but it’s so funny when you snap at them,” Robin quips. 

“Robin.” He gives her his best I’m so fucking serious look. 

Her humor dries up immediately and she nods solemnly. “Alright, yeah. I got it.” 

Steve sighs, pulling into the parking lot. “Thank you.” 

He busies himself with cataloging and reshelving and rewinding returns while Robin takes over the customer service part of the job. It’s mindless - mind-numbing - the monotony of the tasks exactly what Steve needs to dull out the thoughts in his brain and distract himself from the way the back of his hand still tingles from Eddie’s kiss. 

When the afternoon rush dies down after a few hours and the store is all but empty, Robin sidles up next to him where he’s putting away a stack of fantasy films. “Hey.” 

Her voice cuts through his focus and nearly startles Steve out of his skin. “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on me like that.” 

“Sorry.” She grabs half the stack of tapes and starts helping him shelve. “Just wanted to check in with you, we haven’t gotten much of a chance to talk today. How are things going with Eddie?” 

“It’s fine. He’s fine,” Steve grumbles, glaring down at the tape in his hands. It’s got a dragon on the cover. He thinks Eddie would probably like it. “He still doesn’t remember me, but he’s starting to see me as a friend now at least, so.” Steve shoves the movie into its spot on the shelf. “That’s something, right?” 

Robin raises her eyebrows at the sharp bitterness in his tone and how forcefully he put the tape away. “Okay. Yeah. So I see we’re in the anger stage of grief now,” she comments. 

Steve scoffs. If this is a stage of grief, he thinks he’s been going through them in the wrong order, or maybe all at once - a neverending ebb and flow of denial and anger and depression all swirled together into one fucked up cocktail of grief. “I’m not angry,” he says, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m just tired- emotionally burnt out, I don’t know. I just miss him and it’s not fair and I’m so fucking sick of feeling like this.” 

“Yeah, that’s anger, Steve,” Robin says, infuriatingly blunt. She slides the last tape in her stack into its place and then leans against the shelf. “Did something else happen to set this off, or are you just generally overwhelmed?” 

Steve sags against the shelf beside her. “Both. I don’t know. It’s stupid, it’s so fucking stupid. He just- he kissed my hand this morning, that’s it, and it wrecked me.” 

“He what?” Robin questions, curiosity widening her eyes. 

“He kissed my hand,” Steve repeats. He sighs and adds context, gives her a full recount of the events of that morning.

“Oh my god?!” Robin practically squawks as she backhands Steve’s arm, which is definitely not the comforting words or touch he needs from her right now. 

“Ow!” he yelps, rubbing his arm. “What the hell was that for?” 

“Dude. He was flirting with you,” she tells him, eyes even wider now like she’s trying to explain to him something obvious. 

“What? No.” Steve shakes his head, looking at her like she’s crazy. “He definitely wasn’t.” 

“Ughhh,” Robin lets out a long, dramatic groan, dragging her hands down her cheeks and pulling down her eyes. “I cannot do this with you two again. He totally was.” She drops her hands from her face so she can use them to illustrate her point as she starts to lists off, “First of all, he literally called you daddy-” 

“As a joke,” Steve interrupts to protest. 

“Yeah, a flirtatious one,” Robin retorts. She continues, “Then he said you have a magic touch, and then his heart literally started racing for no reason-”

“Because I was stressing him out!” 

“Only after his heart rate went up in the first place, which, as I was saying, was for no reason other than the fact that you were smiling at him and holding his hand-” 

“That literally doesn’t-” 

“And then, he kissed your hand - pressed his lips to your skin - and told you that you were his good luck charm,” Robin finishes, looking smug like she’s said something novel and not just completely reiterated exactly what Steve had just told her only with more emphasis. 

He sighs wearily. “Your point?” 

“He likes you, dingus,” she says, whacking his arm again. “Don’t you get it? His mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.”

Steve doesn’t know what to do with that. A lump rises in his throat, a rush of jumbled emotions chafing against his already frayed edges. “Don’t say that. You don’t know that.”

“I think you should tell him what you were to each other,” Robin suggests. 

“Right, yeah, okay, sure,” Steve scoffs, somewhere between sarcastic and hysterical. “And while we’re at it, I think you should tell Vickie that you like her. Because telling people things like that is so easy, isn’t it?” 

Robin gives him a withering stare. “That is not the same thing at all, and you know it.”

“No, yeah, you’re right,” he agrees. “Because I know Eddie, and he would not take that news well. He already gets a little weird whenever I seem to know too much about him - if I tell him I know him biblically too-” 

“Ew, don’t tell him like that!” 

“Doesn’t matter if I tell him like that; I say we’ve been together for 9 months, he’s going to assume we’ve-” 

“God, okay, I get it!”

“See? It would freak him out,” Steve concludes, crossing his arms. “Even if he does…like me again or whatever, he definitely wouldn’t anymore and it would just generally make him uncomfortable. So I can’t tell him. I just have to keep waiting for him to remember on his own, even though it’s fucking killing me,” he says, his voice harsh as he tries to keep it from breaking. “It’s what’s best for Eddie.” 

“Steve-” Robin starts, frowning like she’s only just beginning to realize she may have pushed him too far, but whatever it is she was going to say is cut off by the ringing of the bell that announces the front door being open. 

“Customers.” Steve points his chin towards the couple who just walked in, a bitter jealousy boiling in his stomach as he watches them walk hand in hand towards the romance aisle. It’s not fucking fair. He shoves himself away from the shelves and mutters, “I’m taking my break.”

He stalks to the breakroom, closes the door, and sinks to the floor with his back against it. The tears in his eyes feel like they’re made of acid, like they would carve tracks into his skin if they were to spill down his cheeks. He wraps his arms around himself again. The thoughts in his head are made of acid too, bitter and burning and cursing everyone who gets to enjoy their lover's touch while he suffers without his. 

Steve’s brain feels corroded, corrupted. “He likes you,” Robin’s words echo there too, “his mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.” Would Eddie touch him now if he asked? Would he trace his fingers across Steve’s skin, kiss more than just the back of his hand? Steve digs his own fingers into his sides. He feels gross, he feels rotten. It wouldn’t be right to ask that of Eddie without him knowing the truth, to take advantage of him like that. It wouldn’t be the same, anyways. The superficial touch of a boy with the beginnings of a crush is not the tender lover’s caress that Steve craves. 

That is if Robin is even right about Eddie redeveloping feelings. Which she probably isn’t.

Steve’s just being stupid and selfish again. He wants to remove his brain from his skull so he can stop thinking, tear his heart from his chest so he can stop feeling; both so burned and decayed he thinks if he held them in his hands they would dissolve and crumble to dust and ash and sludge between his fingers. 

Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve forces himself to be fine. He peels himself off the breakroom floor and returns to work, continues the tedious tasks that he hopes will numb him out again. 

Robin catches his eye from across the room where she’s sorting a customer’s cash at the register. I’m sorry, her expression says, I didn’t mean to make you upset. 

Steve gives a tiny shake of his head and a small smile. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault, his own expression reassures her. You meant well. I’m not mad at you. 

They don’t talk about Eddie again that day. The next time there’s a lull in customers and they’re able to chat again, Steve tells Robin he honestly just needs a distraction right now, and he lets her ramble on about Vickie and band and school and her impending graduation and the movie she watched last night and whatever other random thoughts are bouncing around that hyperactive head of hers. Her voice fills in the cracks in Steve’s brain, keeps it from falling apart completely. She’s always been good at that, and he’s grateful for it. 

Then he drops Robin off after work and he drives away alone in silence because all the songs on the radio are love songs, and he drives back to the hospital - back to the source of his grief again and again like some sort of fucking masochist - because Eddie needs him. Because Steve loves him.

~

Eddie cannot help the way his face all but beams the second Steve walks back into his room that evening. “There you are, Stevie! How was work?”

Steve returns the smile, genuine, but there’s a tiredness to it. “It was alright. Bit boring, really, uneventful. How are you doing?” 

“I’m good,” Eddie says, adding with a jaunty grin, “All the better now that you’re back.” 

It comes out a bit more flirtatious than he intended, but thankfully Steve just laughs it off. “Alright, smoothtalker,” he scoffs through a chuckle as he takes his usual seat by the bed. “It’s nice to see you again too.”

“Oh, the actual doctor came in to talk to me today. Good news, don’t worry,” Eddie tells him, the last bit tacked on quickly before that concerned crease can appear between Steve’s brows. “She says I’m healing up nicely, and I might be able to be discharged soon. A few more days’ observation and then they're gonna see how well I can actually move since, you know, the bats chewed through half the muscles in one of my legs. But, yeah, I could be out of here by the end of next week.” 

“That’s great, Eddie!” Steve brightens. 

“Yeah.” Eddie smiles. “I can’t wait to be somewhere familiar, feel normal again. Or, well,” he amends, smile falling a little as he realizes, “as normal as I can feel given that I’ll probably be walking with a limp for the rest of my life and be covered in nasty scars all over.” 

A strange expression crosses Steve’s face then, something happy and sad and sympathetic all at once, and his voice is soft as he says, “We’ll match.” 

Eddie blinks at him. “What?”

“The scars,” Steve clarifies. “The bats got me too, you know. I was lucky, it wasn’t as bad for me as it was for you, but, uh- yeah, we’ll match. See?” He stands and pulls his shirt up a bit. 

Eddie’s heart rate immediately kicks up again, blood growing warm, as his eyes snap to Steve’s stomach, to skin and muscle and body hair and- oh. Two giant, jagged red scabs cover Steve’s sides, the edges fading into skin bumpy and pink and white with the beginnings of scarring. The bite on Eddie’s own side twinges in sympathy. “That’s-” He swallows back the word hot, and breathes out instead, “Holy shit.” Without really thinking, he finds himself reaching out to skim his fingers over the ridges of Steve’s scars. 

Steve gasps - full body shudders - at the touch, and Eddie instantly pulls his hand back, afraid he’s hurt him. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“No, it’s fine,” Steve manages, though it sounds a bit shaky. “You didn’t hurt me, I just- I wasn’t expecting it.” 

Eddie tentatively starts to reach back out; Steve nods. He slowly traces the outline of the wound again, every uneven edge, feeling the evidence of hurt and the evidence of healing and the ripple of each breath Steve takes - breaths that echo in the quiet that falls between them. Eddie doesn’t realize just how intimate this silence has become as he runs his hands across Steve’s skin, until he glances up to find Steve just…watching him. It’s impossible to tell exactly what emotion is behind his eyes, but it’s intense and it’s devastating, and Eddie suddenly feels like he can’t breathe. 

“Uh-” A nervous laugh stutters out of him. He rescinds his touch. “Twin scars, huh?” he remarks, cracking a crooked smile and attempting to change this strange, suffocating energy with a joke. “Hell of a matching tattoo. Next time let’s just exchange friendship bracelets like normal people do, yeah?”

Steve huffs, a short burst of laughter that escapes from his chest like it’s been punched out of him. “Since when have you ever done anything like a normal person?” he teases in return as he pulls his shirt back down.

Just like that, blown away by Steve’s playful smile, the weird tension lifts. Eddie grins back. “Alright, fair point.” He adds, “Those are gonna be some pretty metal scars, Stevie.”

“Not as metal as yours,” Steve says warmly, settling back in his chair and kicking one leg over the other. “You’re the one that literally survived death, Ed. It doesn’t get any more metal than that.” 

“Now who’s the smoothtalker?” Eddie smirks, and he hopes he isn’t blushing. Steve Harrington calling him metal with so much pride and affection in his voice is doing numbers on his heart. Curse this stupid fucking crush.

Steve eyes divert briefly to the heart monitor, which has not once calmed down since the second he’d lifted up his shirt, and Eddie is so sure that he knows then, that he’s finally made the connection between what’s got Eddie’s heart racing, but he doesn’t say anything, just laughs it off again, smiling like everything’s completely normal as he looks back at Eddie and rolls his eyes and mutters in return, “Shut up.” 

“Make me,” Eddie mumbles, not quick enough to bite back the words before they fall from his mouth, only managing to lower his voice enough that maybe Steve didn’t hear him. 

“What?” 

“TV?” Eddie grabs the remote, pretends like that’s what he’d said in the first place. Real smooth. 

“Oh, sure.” Steve shrugs. If he noticed Eddie’s slip, he gives no indication of it. 

Eddie turns on the TV and they spend the next hour or so laughing and making fun of the bad acting on the show that’s playing. Easy, normal, platonic. Eddie’s heart rate stabilizes, remaining even so long as he doesn’t look too long at Steve’s smile. 

When sleep starts lapping at Eddie’s consciousness, he doesn’t fear it anymore. Silently, he holds out his hand, and Steve takes it, wrapping him in the warmth and protection that allows Eddie to let himself drift off undaunted. 

And in his dreams his hands skate across Steve’s skin again.

(part seven)

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[moonstruckme]

babe you’ve got me obsessed with doctor remus!

can i request a drabble where reader gets into like a car accident and has been taken into a&e with like mid/severe injuries and remus has been assigned to treat her?

if not then that’s fine! love your work bae 🎀

Hi gorgeous! Thank you for requesting (I'm obsessed with him too) :)

cw: hospital

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 716 words

The nurse leaves, and you think you might finally get more than five seconds to yourself but then the curtain pulls back again, a tall doctor taking her place. You’ve been able to feel your heartbeat pulsing through every inch of you since you’d stumbled out of your smoking car, and this new man doesn’t help matters. 

He’s lovely. With a face smattered with warm freckles and silvery scars and a mop of brown hair that looks like it’s never once been brushed, this is the kind of person who would fluster you on a normal day. Now, you don’t even know the word to describe the effect he has on you. 

He has to ask his question a second time before you hear it. 

“Have you had allergic reactions to any medications?” 

You blink. It still feels like reality is moving at twice its usual speed. You don’t know if it’s just you shaking, but it feels like the whole room. “Uh, no. Sorry.” 

“That’s alright.” The doctor’s voice is businesslike but kind, with a Welsh lilt. He flips a page on his clipboard. “Anything we weren’t able to address in the ambulance? Any new aches and pains?” 

“I—I don’t think so.” 

He lowers the clipboard slightly, looking at you. His eyes are a lightish brown color, like honey left too long in the sun. “Has anyone talked you through grounding exercises?” 

You feel your brow wrinkle. “What?” 

He almost smiles. “I’ll take that for a no.” He sets down his clipboard on the edge of your bed, pulling up a rolling chair and sitting down in front of you. “I’m going to have you breathe with me for a minute, alright, sweetheart?” 

It’s not in your nature to contradict professionals, but you feel your head shaking as if from somewhere outside of yourself. “Why?” you ask. “Aren’t there more important things?” 

“There are still things left to do,” he allows, seeming unaffected by your questioning, “but you’re stable. It’s nothing that can’t wait for a few minutes, and it’s important that you’re calm so you can think properly.” He takes your hands in his, ignoring the odd padding of the splint around your broken wrist and holding your fingertips instead. “All I need from you is for you to copy my breathing. Can you do that for me?” 

You nod. As he starts to talk you through it, your eyes begin to sting, an effect of his gentle tone or the respite your body has been craving or both. Your doctor’s expression doesn’t change when he sees the silver lining your eyes, but he gives your fingertips a light squeeze. 

“Okay, in for eight this time,” he says in that lulling voice. “Good job, just keep at it.” 

You manage to breathe in for long enough to satisfy him, and after the exhale he drops your hands. 

“Well done,” he murmurs, mindful of the small cuts on your face as he thumbs away your tears. “Are you feeling a bit better?” 

“Yeah,” you answer honestly. The word comes out like a sigh, and his lip curves softly at the plain relief in the sound. 

“Happy to hear it. You were right earlier, there’s still plenty left to do,” he says, expression sombering somewhat as he looks at you intently, “but if you ever need a break, you tell me or someone else, okay? I don’t want you suffering in silence.” 

“Okay.” You wet your lips, feeling much more solid than you had a few minutes before. The world has slowed to its regular speed. “Sorry, I don’t think I got your name.” 

He smiles, which is altogether too charming for a place like this. It makes the long scar going across his cheek crinkle slightly and you could swear his eyes lighten a shade. “Well, see, that’s how I know you weren’t really with me when you came in, because we’ve already been introduced.” His expression lets you know he hasn’t taken any offense, but your face still heats at your impoliteness. “It’s Doctor Lupin, but you can call me Remus.” 

Something in you rings at this new knowledge, like a tuning fork has been struck. Remus, your consciousness echoes quietly. 

His smile softens. “We’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other today.”

[soobnny]

loving is terrifying — han jisung. best friends to lovers. accidental confessions (1.6k words)

in the midst of ranting, han jisung accidentally confesses he’s in love with you

“And if I burn the whole school down, would you bail me out of jail, Hanji?”

You’re still only a few sentences into the important speech you were asked to write, and you’re starting to feel agitated, chewed up pencil carving out your thoughts on paper before finding its way abandoned on your desk.

It’s been a few hours, and you’d chosen to put the pencil down lest you want to bring yourself to insanity.

Pretty lies usually come easy to you, but now they’re burning holes into your skull and flicking the ashes into your brain. In the reprieve, all you can think about is your anger for the authority.

“Bold of you to assume I won’t be your accomplice.” Jisung retorts from where he’s seated next to you on the floor, arms crossed behind his head as he leans against his couch.

“There’s just so much wrong in the system. Their code of rules deprive students of their creativity. Only the top students have a multitude of opportunities waiting for them. And don’t get me started on how the authorities put so little value into culture and societal issues. Everything is wrong, just wrong in all ways!”

There’s a word count in Jisung’s head on how many times you’ve said wrong in one sitting, but he’s looking at you with a hint of something in his eyes. Almost adoration.

“And we can change it by burning the school down?” A tone of amusement is laced in your best friend’s voice, though you fail to search for a trace of judgment.

“We can start there. Then the world.” You take the pencil back and fiddle with it between your fingers.

“The world? That’s very ambitious of you.”

You glare at him.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t be by your side. I like ambitious.” Jisung smiles at you, making sure to lock his eyes with yours so you can see heavy genuineness where his pupils are. “What’s the next step then?”

“Climate change.”

Jisung throws his head back in quiet laughter, and the slight movement allows you a whip of his laundry detergent from the white shirt he’s wearing. “Okay, climate change.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not!” His lips quirk up into a smile, eyes morphing from crescents to a full moon as he struggles to defend his name. There is still laughter even in the way he licks the inside of his cheek and takes your hands in his.

You fail to copy his laughter.

“Your eyes are upset. Are they directed at me?” Jisung softens his voice, only speaking one his laughter has boiled down. He pulls you closer than you already are, and you don’t notice the way he grabs the pencil between your fingers in the process to set it down.

“Of course not.” You mumble. “I’m mad at everything else, at everything wrong.”

A tally adds to his word count.

You sigh when you let go of his hands to take the paper in your own, eyes leaden as they scan across the sentences you had bullshited earlier. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to write this.”

“Just scream it out.”

“What?”

“Scream out what you actually want to say.” He grins.

You gape at him.

“I’m not screaming in your living room. Your neighbors are going to think someone’s being murdered.”

“Then just say it. Whatever you want to say. Everything wrong.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Okay, I’ll start then.” He smiles, and it’s heart-warmingly encouraging. “I wish it was easier to ground myself. I live in my head most of the time, and opening up is hard, and I wish forming any form of relationship wasn’t so scary.”

“Ji—“

“Okay, now your turn.”

“We are not going to ignore what you just said.”

“I said, your turn.”

“Jisung.”

“Please?” He places a hand over yours, and it’s enough for your brain to short circuit.

“Alright, fine. But we are going to talk about it later.”

“Now, what about those things that are wrong?” Jisung asks, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.

“Well, uh— our poor education system, that’s for one. And, the government. Blatant sexism too, how stupid the patriarchy is, how I still can’t parallel park for the life of me.”

You start with sporadic things, the ones that instantly pop in your head when you think about things that make you upset, and as you continue to talk, you dig a little deeper, and you don’t even realize you’ve stood up and your hands are flailing around like a salesman by the second.

“And, don’t even get me started on the transportation system. It’s so dumb how car-centered design came to be because how is it that the people who have access to private vehicles also have the easiest routes over the less fortunate who walk or commute? Like, why do we have to adjust to the roads?”

There’s a long list of things you want to say, finally letting loose and narrating all the things you’ve kept locked away in the back of your mind because you’re with the one person you can trust. When you meet Jisung’s gaze, he’s looking at you in awe.

“I hate how we’re branded as prodigies when we were younger. I hate the expectations that come with it, that we have to be great all the time, and, oh, this actually feels really good.”

Jisung chuckles at the way you come to a sudden realization, but he’s always known you were wiser beyond your years. “You’re brilliant.”

“Well, you have to say something too!”

Jisung fiddles with his fingers, trying to think of where to start. Though, the brilliance that is you and the opportunity of having this moment with you is enough motivation for him to follow suit.

“Uh, it’s so scary how superficial people are nowadays, and how so quickly they’re let down. It stresses me out how a single mistake could cost you so many relationships, but at the same time, who will stress out if not me? And it makes me realize how lucky I am to have the people in my life, and having an opportunity to talk like this really fuels my positivity in life, and it makes me realize even more how much I strongly feel like my life is for you guys, and there is nothing more important to me than being able to be a good person for you guys, like you. I wish I could be the bestest friend for you, maybe even more than that, but fuck, loving is so scary so I wish you’ll never find out how I’m so so in love with you— wait.”

The room falls silent and he’s thinking of a thousand different ways to die on the spot. He’s embarrassed. This is embarrassing, and he’s thinking it really wouldn’t be too late to jump off the bedroom window and hope for the best. A thousand different ways, maybe pretend he never said anything, stand still and maybe you’d think he wasn’t there in the first place. A thousand different ways.

“Han Jisung.”

“Soooo, haha, where were we in your speech again?”

Jisung doesn’t meet your eyes for the fear of rejection. He doesn’t think he has the heart to handle it right now, especially not after his accidental confession.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“About how superficial people are? Of course, it’s so scary. Hey, did I tell you about the tim—“

“Is being in love with me something wrong?”

He falls silent, and you can visibly see him start to panic, and his hands are pressed together as if in a prayer as he’s shaking his head profusely. “No, oh god no, it’s not. Honestly, it’s one of the only things I’m sure of, and that says a lot because I’m not sure of anything. I’m not even sure I’m in the right course or the right school or if I’m spending my money the right way, or if I’m even gonna live tomorrow, but fuck, loving you and everything about you is something I will never question.”

You can feel yourself start to smile, and Jisung finds himself copying you. It’s one of the first things he knew he loved about you—your smile, and the way you think, and the sound of your laughter. Despite his erratic heart beating and his fear of this exact moment, he still finds himself smiling when you do.

“I’m in love with you too.”

“What?”

You can visibly see the gears in his head turn, and he’s writing a story he doesn’t know the ending to just yet, but the beginning is so beautiful because it’s with you. Then, he laughs. It’s breathy, and you can almost hear the relief. “Did you just say you love me?”

“I did.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“I’m in love with you, Han Jisung.”

“I’m going to die.”

You laugh, and then he snaps back into reality.

“Can I kiss you?” His tone is so careful, but there’s a hint of something you can only recognize as a slight desperation—like he’s been thinking of it a while.

Jisung reaches out to wrap his arms around your waist, albeit a little shy. It’s a pattern that’s already so familiar. He isn’t a stranger to hugging you, in fact, he’s done it a million times, but the connotations to this one is a little different, and he can’t think straight at the possibility that you might actually consent to letting him kiss you.

“Okay.”

Words that haven’t left being translated into the motion of his lips moving against yours. Honestly, he doesn’t even know who went in for the kiss first. All he knows is his hands are gently rested on your waist and he’s actually kissing you right now, and you can feel the way he’s smiling into the kiss.

It takes a few minutes for you two to pull away, a little out of breath, and he leans in to try and kiss you again but your noses bump against each other’s, and the pair of you can’t help but laugh at how the events of the night had turned.

Jisung marvels at the way everything feels so simple, so right.

“I’m not dreaming, right? Like this is actually happening?”

You laugh even more.

Jisung’s always been afraid of venturing into the unknown, always kept his feelings hidden, and he’s always loathed his mouth for being so uncontrolled with the things he says. But now, with you in his arms, he couldn’t be any more happier about the slip of his tongue and how being with you feels like one of the rare rights among all the wrongs.