#personal blog tings

[shortycreates]

It happened!!! 💍🥹😭

[turtle-toe]

you ever get a new follower and your dumb golden retriever brain just goes "oh OH OH, PERSON, PERSON, PERSON"

[cambion-companion]

Gonna get back into Chloe Ting after too long being inactive...

It's gonna hurt a lot and I'm not ready.

[sirnica]

Well, I got really sad last night when I realized that nothing is ever going to happen between me and my crush because she's still really into her ex (even more than I'm into mine), but surprisingly, I haven't gone full incel or depression mode. I'm fine with it because now I get to work on accepting that I have what every queer in the world needs:

A friend (with a car)

[airsignss]

Ready for game 5 😋👍🏻

[buddyhollyscurls]

I really think I need to start a website for my stories bc I really would like to keep people up to date since I've been working on so many different things lately. Was wondering if I made one would anybody be curious to look? Or if anyone has a site they could recommend that I could post? Or would u guys enjoy me posting like excerpts and things here?

[serzzy]

For the first time in over I year I was b!nge free now I feel disgusted in myself I feel like I’m losing control

I need to get back on track I’m terrified to step on the sc@le because I know it’ll be up im gonna try my best to fast but I always cave for some stupid reason

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — YUUJI ITADORI. isn’t it weird? how love never changes.

about. no matter what anyone says, yuuji itadori’s love for you is unwavering and he hopes that you’ll never see a reason to change. not for anyone, not even him. (1K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters are aged up to 20s and in college, weird gf and jock bf, yuuji is a jock and has obnoxious teammates, reader is an introvert and wears glasses, selfship coded i fear, fem!reader.

“itadori, don’t you think your girlfriend is a little.. weird?”

the pink haired jock blinks once, then frowns  as he tugs a fresh shirt over his head — practice with his soccer team had ran a little longer than anticipated and he didn’t feel like coming home to you, his girlfriend, in a stinky old shirt. 

yuuji’s not sure when the topic of locker room talk had switched onto him and his love life but he cares enough to bite — not about to let his teammates talk smack about his girl. “where’d you get that idea from?”

another teammate speaks up. “when she comes to your games, she wears your sweatshirts but doesn’t cheer for you at all.” 

“she’s just shy, nothing wrong with that.” yuuji counters.

“whenever we hang out at the after partie she’s always… clinging onto you… doesn’t drink with any of us.”

“i told you, she’s a little shy,”  he stands up a little straighter this time, narrowing his eyes. “and parties aren’t for everyone. she might not like them but she’s there to support me. shouldn’t that be enough?”

“but dude…” someone else speaks up. “don’t you find any of that strange? like she’s just… weird.”

yuuji can’t get home fast enough after that. he almost falls to pieces when he sees you singing and shuffling your way through the cupboards in his dorm kitchen — making yourself a snack. he loves it when you stay over and he gets to watch you like this, so calm and at ease in his space. he feels grateful to even be sharing it with you.

weird isn’t a word that yuuji itadori would use to describe his girlfriend. 

he finds you intriguing. your relationship is still new, so all of the differences between you both interest him beyond belief. each time he discovers a new habit of yours (like the way you forget to take your glasses off when you sleep) or a fact about your life before college, or finds out something obscure relating to your hobbies and interests… yuuji can’t help but to fall in love with you all over again. like an astronomer who’s searching for the secrets of the universe, the pink haired jock wants to know every interesting little detail that makes you, you. 

that’s created the very person he loves today. 

“please never change,” yuuji breathes against the back of your head once he’s home. you can’t even comprehend the speed at which he’s dropped his gym back before he’s wrapped himself around you in the same manner that a boa constrictor would. only more affectionate. “and if you do, let me change with you.” 

being this close to itadori, you can smell his baby-fresh soap and the tinge of sweat from his work out. you can feel the strength of his arms as they squeeze you close from behind — like he’ll never let you go. he makes you feel loved even when it’s not on purpose, you go your every waking moment cared for and adored by yuuji itadori. it’s always subconscious, unwavering and steady. your love is stable like that, never dampened from those outside of the two of you — that much will never change. 

“that’s a big ask, yuu.” comes your contented hum, but you don’t stop your actions — continuing to make your snack while the pink haired jock squeezes you tight. as if to become one with you. “people change all the time.” 

you hold up a hand behind you and he sucks the peanut butter from your thumb eagerly. “i know, but i don’t want what anyone else says about you or us to make you change,” he mumbles petulantly against the shell of your ear, trying to find the right words as he tucks his face into your neck. “you’re perfect to me, as you are.” 

it’s cute that he reminds you of such a trivial little thing. those big brown eyes of yuuji’s see perfection in all of your flaws. he loves you so much you wonder if how much you feel for him even compares. 

“what’s gotten into you?” you giggle, spinning in his arms to stand on the tips of your toes — pressing a soft kiss to the point at which your boyfriend’s jaw meets his neck. it’s all you can reach. “did something happen?” 

yuuji hesitates for a moment, lips pursed and honey-glazed eyes cast to the side. he would never lie to you, that’s not in his nature — but he’d never want to hurt your feelings either. “the guys…the guys on the team said some stuff about us today,” his voice trails off and his hands trail upwards, dipping underneath the jersey of his that you wear to draw circles into your waist using his rough thumbs. he figures it’s best to tell you before one of his teammates  let it slip and hurt your feelings. he would rather die then let that happen. “they… they think you’re weird and that… that we’re too different.” 

“o-oh.”

a flash of pain comes with the territory of yuuji’s honesty, but he’s quick to soothe it as though he’s running your burn under a stream of cool water. “but i like you. like…really really like you,” the words rush out while his eyes stay serious and set in stone. your boyfriend grasps both of your hands firmly before you can even think to cry or pull away.

yuuji is there and he is constant and that is never changing. not for anyone, except for you. “and i like all of the funny things about you. that you’re a little quiet, that you’re always by my side, that you leave me notes in my gym bag or share your celebrity crushes with me. i like you for you. even if you’re a little weird — then…then i am too!” 

his hands, strong and yet so soft, traverse up to your round cheeks — tilting your head up to face him. “please don’t ever change because of what people say,” yuuji repeats tenderly, his lips finding the crown of your head in a gentle kiss. he stays there, like a magnet on metal and the world stands still for a moment. remaining the same, no longer changing, so that yuuji itadori can love you as is. “the way you are right now, it’s everything to me.” 

itadori only moves when you tip your head back to get a better look at him, he looks down at you through his unfairly long lashes — brown eyed gaze latching onto yours while your hearts sync up, beating to the same drum. “i’ll never change, as long as you promise to always love me like this.”

“i’ll love you the same way that i always have. like i’m the luckiest guy in the world, yeah?” he laughs and you smile — because it’s hard to be upset when yuuji is around, and protects your love so genuinely. 

you lean up and he meets you half way — pressing a slow and lingering kiss to the swell of your lips, wrapping his arms around you once again as you away to a silent tune in his tiny dorm kitchen. 

change is inevitable of course. the two of you will grow and become different people than you are right now — but you will always find your way back to the beautiful love that you hold. 

much like a butterfly that blossoms into something beautiful too.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[maitadori]

LATE TO THE EVENT nsfw jing yuan x afab!reader

word count : 1.2k

summary : in which you struggle with your zipper and ask your husband for help, big mistake, really.

content / cw : somewhat smut, grinding, implied sexual intercourse at the end, cocky smug jing yuan (hes so annoying i love him), he’s soooo whipped for you

a/n : u mfs blew my jing yuan drabble up quickkkk wayyyy faster than my blade, like wtfff. y’all do not play abt this man

DARK CONTENT BLOGS PLZ DNI!!!

"beloved," comes one knock, "you're taking an awfully long time in there. what's holding you up?" another knock.

it's not until he's rapping his fist against the wooden door twice more that you finally speak up. "don't worry about it! just know i'll be out in a second, okay?"

your voice is muffled, but even then, jing yuan could still sense a tinge of panic in your tone.

behind the closed door your muttering curses as you strain your arms to try and lift your zipper.

"dammit..." you mutter, letting go of your dress and stretching once your arms starts to cramp.

you don't want to try too hard, you're out of breath and you might pull a muscle if you go any further.

"beloved, you're scaring me. can i come in?"

"no!!" you exclaim before you can think.

it's not that you didn't want him to come in, you just really wanted your look to be a surprise. when you picked out this dress, you were blown away at how nice it looked on you.

it was a white skin tight dress that hugged your figure in a way that made you look enticing. the straps were thin and your breasts sit in it perfectly.

you were a humble, modest person. but seeing yourself in the reflection, you couldn't help the slight ego boost you got.

you really wanted to see his reaction to your look. and if he came in now, that'd ruin everything.

"okay i'm coming in." he tries to turn the knob only to jiggle it and find out it was locked.

you anticipated that'd happened and fortunately planned ahead.

"jing yuan, i'm fine, i promise! just something with my makeup. i'll be done in a second."

you turn your back to the mirror and turn your chin over your shoulder to look at the reflection in hopes of getting a better look at the object of your annoyance.

"beloved, i know how to pick locks." his tone is arrogant and smug, like it usually is when he wants to show off.

you scoff, tugging on your zipper, successfully getting it up about halfway before you relent.

"if i let you in, promise you won't look?"

"that's like asking me not to breathe."

"jing yuan!"

"okay okay. i won't look. an odd request, but i'll listen."

you can't bring yourself to believe him fully but you unlock the door anyways. it creaks open slowly and you peek past the door to see him covering his eyes with his hands.

he hears the quiet scream of the door and tries to peek through his fingers, but can you really call yourself his spouse if you didn't know him? you slap your hands over his to cover his sight further before he could look.

"jing yuan!"

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry! can you really blame me? i want to see you."

"you can... soon. just.. do me a favor first." your hands cautiously drop from their place over his, "you can't look!"

"i won't!"

you try not to stare at his attire, his matching white suit. he was too attractive for his own good, instead you give him a disdainful look he can't see, and guide his hands away from his eyes. "keep 'em closed."

"i know," he groans, exasperated.

you guide his hands to your zipper, watching his face like a hawk. you slowly turn towards the mirror, your back to him, and keep an eye on his face through the reflection.

"can you zip me up?"

his hands are huge and warm. he splays them across your back under the guise of stabilizing his fingers on the small zipper— but with the way he's caressing your skin, you question if he's doing it on purpose.

he finds the zipper successfully, yet his wandering hands don't cease. your eyes close on instinct, like they always do under his touch, and you sigh blissfully. you know this is bad, and you know you might be falling under his trap— like you always do— but he’s your husband, and he knows you like the back of his hand.

his lips kiss your head and your eyes fly open to see him— as you suspected— meet your gaze in the mirror, eyes open and expression gloating.

"jing yuan!!!" you exclaim, struggling to get out of the hold he puts you in, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulls you into his chest. you lift your hand and try to cover his eyes, but he only chuckles and grabs your wrist, using his free hand to grab your chin and lock your lips.

"you're so gorgeous," he mutters, leaning down into your neck to kiss any spot he can get his lips on.

"you weren't supposed to see!! it was supposed to be a surprise…”

his finger finds your zipper once more and relief fills your body. he tugs it up a bit and you assume he's quitting the act.

how foolish of you.

the hug of your dress loosens on your body as jing yuan tugs the zipper down in quick succession. a shrill gasp leaves your lips. your straps slip down your shoulders and you quickly hold your arms over your chest before the air kisses your breasts.

"you— i cant believe you...! we have an event to go to!! one that's dedicated to you!!" you glare at him through the mirror, blatantly ignoring the way he’s checking you out, eyes dark and full of lust.

"when i have someone as hot as you wearing something this sexy right in front of me, how do you expect me to think about anything else?" he's guiding you to lean against the sink, placing kisses on any patch of skin that your dress doesn't cover.

your quick breaths get replaced with whimpers as he sucks blemishes into your shoulder. your mind hazes and you can't bring it in yourself to protest.

"jing yuan... we're gonna be late!! seriously!"

he hums, muttering a quiet that's okay, i'm the general so who'll speak against me? it had a cocky timbre to it that made you bristle.

he managed to bend you over the sink, hands on your hips as he starts to grind you against him. your breath falters and your eyes momentarily roll back. it didn’t take long for you to yield and you hate yourself for it.

the feeling of his semi-hard cock rubbing against you has breathy whines leaving your lips, along with a small string of quiet sir sir, sir!!’s

his lips leave your body and he’s leaning up, not stopping the grinding of your clothed sex against him. you can feel a wet spot forming and a pang of anger fills you once you realize your husband’s horniness will be the ruin of this gorgeous dress.

you try to take on a commanding tone, as if you weren’t just moaning out for him, “we have to go the event!! y—you hear me!? i’m… not gonna let you ruin this dress!!” but he bunches your dress up to your waist, the fabric of his pants rub against your covered clit and you’re instantly putty against the sink.

jing yuan ignores your words, and you can tell from the indicating sound of his belt unbuckling.

“jing yuan!!!!”

“i don’t want anyone else seeing you in this dress,” is all he says before he’s pushing your panties to the side. “we’ll go after i’m done with you, ‘kay?”

“i can’t believe you!!!”

jing yuan taglist : @ceylestia @comettheasteroid @voidsatoru @blazervain @meaningofaeons some of u i couldn’t tag sorrryyyy

if u wanted to be added to my taglist, just ask!!!

[shortycreates]

Full straddle achieved and Russian climb is coming along nicely!

[back2bluesidex]

Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 4 (18+)

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok. 

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, implied smut

Warnings: Mentions of school bullying, multiple pov changes, the budding tension is everything.

Word count: 3.2k

Taglist requests are closed.

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: sorry for being so late and still coming up with a shorter chapter. but we progressed a lot in this!!

Main Masterlist

Chapters:- 

Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

A wave of nausea hits your gut as soon as you step into the elevator. 

Your eyes are full to the brim but you are determined not to let a single tear slip, not for the man who invalidated you and your feelings by falling for someone else. So you laugh instead. 

A sarcastic, loud laugh escapes your throat as you realize you have spent the better part of your day trying not to run into him but you failed. Just like you failed the relationship and just like Jungkook failed your love. 

Shutting your eyes tight, you take in deep breaths.. One, two, three. 

You have a session, Y/N.You can’t let your personal issues unsettle you now. You tell yourself again and again until the elevator touches the ground. 

And then your eyes fall on him as soon as you exit the building. 

Hoseok looks beautiful today. He is sporting a purple floral shirt, which might have looked bizarre on anyone else, with baggy jeans and a cute bucket hat. He regards you with his signature heart shaped smile and a wave upon seeing you. 

Right then and there, you feel your heart being repaired. You feel as if your fresh wounds have been cleaned and stitched. 

Your heart thumps in your chest as you realize, all your distress just vanished with just one smile from Hoseok. One look at him and you completely overcame the negative feelings that you had been suffering from since coming across Jungkook. 

You also realize that Jung Hoseok is most definitely different from the other guardians of your counselees. He is more, much more than you are proud of admitting. 

“Hey” Hoseok chimes in. His eyes fall on yours and they gradually dip down to your collarbones and then to your cleavage. 

Heat settles on your face. You hope you are not appearing to be too flushed. 

“Hi.” you reply when you find his eyes locking into yours again. But he doesn’t smile this time, rather there is a tinge of darkness inside his brown orbs. The tension is palpable. So much so that you had to divert your eyes and look at the car. 

“Let’s go.” Hoseok murmurs, you nod. 

And then he places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards his car. Goosebumps travel all around your body. God! Were you always this sensitive? Or is it because you have been touched deprived for so long now? 

Or is it because of the man himself? 

You try not to show any difference in your posture. Walking steadily you reach the car and settle on the passenger seat. 

Sua breaks into a big smile seeing you and greets you with her usual cheery voice. When you greet her back and take her in you realize that this father-daughter duo is twinning.  

“Oh my- You guys look adorable!” you giggle reaching out to pat Sua’s head through the small-sized bucket hat she is wearing. 

“You are twinning too! Your dress has flowers just like ours!” Sua exclaims and her voice is a pure serotonin boost, you can’t help laughing out loud. 

“Well” you take a look at your dress, “I guess you are not wrong.” 

Feeling a pair of eyes on your figure again, you look up and you find Hoseok staring down at you again. Even though he diverts his eyes, you still feel the weight of his gaze on your chest. 

“The audition though.. Is in the US” Jungkook sighs. His face finds the hollow space created by his palms. His shoulders drop and he feels as if his career is approaching an end. 

“And?” You place your question carefully. 

He sighs again, “You know, Y/N. I can’t afford flying all the way to the states!” 

“But we can.” there is a small smile lingering on your lips. 

“What do you-” 

“What I mean is, Jungkook, you pay as much as you can, I can take care of the rest.” leaning towards him, you place a sweet kiss on his cheek. 

“But, Y/N, I- I don’t wanna be a burden on you.” the words choke on his throat but his mind eases as he looks into your eyes. 

“Kook” you hold both of his hands with both of yours, “It’s okay to ask for help, especially from the people you love and who love you back. I am a part of your life now, we have a long way to go together, so you can pay me back anytime you want. Okay?” 

Jungkook’s heart soars and soars and soars in his chest. His emotions spill through his eyes and you wipe those ever so gently. 

When he locks his lips with yours, you taste like forever. 

He is such a traitor. He left the person who was with him through thick and thin. 

When you got three different offers from three different clinics, he only got rejected in auditions. When you started sending money to your parents every month, his agency got bankrupt. When you reached new heights everyday, jungkook only fell lower and lower. 

But you never once looked down on him, never once treated him like the inferior one he was. Rather you are the reason why he is at his current position. But he couldn’t pay you back. 

He failed. 

He fell.. For someone else. 

And it’s only justified for you to hate him but still the thought only stings him, it angers him, unsettles him. 

But more than everything… It hurts him. And he doesn’t know if he is brave enough to find out the reasons. 

“Jungkook! Jeon Jungkook! Are you even listening to me?” Jimin’s scream brings Jungkook back to reality. 

“Yes? Yes. Yes I am listening.” He tries to overview the situation, trying to find out what the elder has been talking about. 

“No you are not. This is the third time I have asked you if you want me to pack some kimchi or not.” Jimin fusses standing on the opposite side of the kitchen counter. His eyes suggest the fact that he has a very clear idea about what’s going on inside Jungkook’s head. “You are thinking of her, aren’t you?” 

“You should definitely pack some kimchi for me.” Jungkook ignores Jimin’s question, completely changes the topic. 

The elder only nods, deciding not to pry anymore. 

Never in a million years you would have known that a bakery can be this fancy. 

But then… you met the Jung duo. 

The sweet aroma of buttery goodness envelops your senses as you step inside.  

The vanilla scent perfectly matches with the white interior of the bakery and you are forced to think if you're underdressed for a bakery session or not. 

Sua tugs at your hand when she sees you scanning the place with utmost attention. 

"Is it your first time here?" She asks sweetly. 

"Yes. Never thought bakeries could look this fancy." You giggle a little. 

When your eyes fall ahead, you find a young waitress guiding Hoseok towards your table. 

Maybe he had reserved a table earlier. 

The table is situated at a nice cozy corner of the bakery, which is good since you're here to counsel Sua and it's better to keep things within an invisible barrier. 

Hoseok has been trying. 

He has been trying his hardest to keep his eyes away from you, to keep it on only your face when it’s needed but oh boy! 

It’s not his fault that you are looking so gorgeous today or the fact that your dress has a low neck or that it is fitting you like a glove emphasizing your body curves more than he can take in innocently. 

It’s not his fault that he caught your eyes shining when those fell onto his, or the way you smiled at him a little intimately today. He doesn’t know how his thoughts or observations make sense but here he is feeling like a giddy teenager getting to share a desk with his crush for the very first time. 

“Mr. Jung and baby Sua, how are you doing today?” It's the waitress who usually attends them during their visit. 

Hoseok smiles at her and she smiles back wider than needed. 

“We are doing fine, Ms. Shin, what about you?” he returns the courtesy. 

“Same here. You have got a friend today, I see.” she now regards you, taking a good look at you from head to toe. 

You smile at her kindly but refrain from saying anything. 

“Yeah we do. About the order please go as usual for me and Sua and” he looks at you and finds you captivating yet again, “what about you, Y/N?” 

“Just a cup of hot chocolate please with a side of marshmallows.” 

“Sure” the waitress notes down your order with another weird glance and you notice it this time. 

Sua starts giggling as soon as she leaves, when you two look at her she stifles her laugh with one of her tiny hands and says, “she thinks you are daddy’s girlfriend. She is offended. She thought she could flirt with him forever.” 

If Hoseok is seeing things right then you are blushing. Your cheeks and the tip of your ears turn red as Sua mentions you as Hoseok’s girlfriend. 

Honestly, he ain’t doing any better. Hoseok feels as if someone has uncaged ten million butterflies in his stomach. He can’t help staring at you yet again. 

“So shall we play a game till the food arrives?” You break the tension by finally starting with your session. 

“Game? Here? Right now?” Sua enquiries innocently. 

“Yeah. Let's play a word game. I will name a word and you will have to tell me the first thing or person that comes to mind. okay?” 

“Wow, that sounds fun!” Sua replies expectantly. 

“So, let’s start. I will go first and ask you five words, then you can do the same.” hoseok sees you preparing for a bit and then finally uttering the first word, “favorite” 

“Blueberry!” Sua answers immediately. 

You chuckle, “Oh! So blueberry is Sua’s favorite fruit, I see.” pausing for a bit you say, “happy” 

“Drawing” sua’s reply comes within an instant again. 

“Great. Love?” 

“Daddy” Hoseok’s heart fills at his daughter’s answer. He smiles on his own as his eyes become a little moist. 

“That’s so sweet” you coo at her. “Umm.. next is scared” 

Sua’s face dulls at this as she says “Jaemin” softly. 

“Are you scared of him because he pulls tricks on you?” you place the question carefully. Sua nods. 

“What does he do to you, Sua? Tell me so that I and Hoseok can help you.” You place a hand on top of Sua’s. 

Her head hangs even lower but she says, “he- he told the entire class that I am an illigimate child, that daddy is not my real dad and that is why I don’t have a mom. No one talks to me anymore. Not even my best friend Yoo Ri. They don’t play with me, call me an outskirt and laugh at me. Jaemin locked me in the room for a whole period and told me if I complained to the teachers he would tell them what I am and get me expelled from the school. I didn’t tell anyone. Not even daddy. I was afraid that whatever he said was true and dad is not my dad. He even threw my lunch out of the window and made me starve.” 

Hoseok sees red. 

His eyes are full of tears and he is ready to set the world on fire today. The way Sua could not even pronounce illegitimate properly yet she knew what it meant, is absolutely heartbreaking. 

He slaps the table out of anger and both of you and Sua jump out of surprise. 

You look at him, placing a hand on top of his, you whisper softly, “Calm down. I have got this. Don’t worry.” 

And he actually calms down. 

Is this what it feels like having a partner beside you through your high and low? 

Is this what it feels like having you as his partner? If yes then he would kill to have you, even if it’s unethical for him to even think of that. 

“Sua, do you trust me?” you ask the little one. 

She nods. 

“Then do you believe me if I say that you are not an illegitimate child and Hoseok is your real dad?” 

“Is that right, daddy?” Sua asks softly. 

Hoseok stands up from his table, kneels down in front of his girl, holds his little hands with his bigger ones and says “Yes baby. I am your dad. I swear you are my real daughter, I made you with my blood and flesh.”  

Sua breaks into a loud sob, as she hugs her dad tightly. 

“Y/N, we still have a word left?” Sua speaks with a mouth full of blueberry cheesecake. 

“Oh right.” You sit straight again, taking a sip from your hot chocolate. Your red lips attach to the edge of the cup, looking perfectly pouty and kissable. 

Hoseok finds it tough to breathe all of a sudden. 

“So the next word is.. Hate.” 

“Mina aunty.” 

Fuck! Sua had to mention her out of everyone. 

“Who is Mina aunty?” you ask the kid.  

“She is actu-” hoseok tries to handle the situation but his daughter is faster than him apparently. 

“She is daddy’s friend. She often comes to our home whenever I am asleep. And she sleeps there! Does she not have a home or something? Oh I hate her.” 

“Oh I see.” you divert your eyes towards hoseok with a knowing look. His face reddens and he has to avoid looking into your eyes. 

“Now it’s your turn.” Sua chimes in and Hoseok feels relieved when you stop staring at him. 

“Yeah, let’s start.” you take another sip. 

“Color?”

“White.” 

“Drink?” 

“Coke.” 

“Love?” 

“Jungko-” you pause. You seem to surprise yourself with the name you were about to take. 

“Oh? Why did you pause? Is that your boyfriend’s name?” Sua giggles. 

The tightness that Hoseok feels inside his chest is unjustified. 

You definitely have a boyfriend. Why did he even think he had a chance with someone as appealing as you. Why did he even start thinking there’s something cooking between you two? 

On the other hand, you seem to be quite uncomfortable with Sua’s question. 

“No. He is someone I used to know, someone I should not be taking the name of, anymore” you reply finally. 

Your expression turns somber and you start biting your lower lip. 

Maybe you are as broken as Hoseok is. 

And maybe.. Just maybe.. Hoseok has a chance to fix you. 

The air inside the car is heavy with tension again. 

You wanted to avoid Hoseok. You wanted to avoid this fuzzy feeling you feel inside your chest whenever you come closer to him. 

He has a girlfriend after all (or maybe a friend with benefits, not that you are keen to know) and you are not totally over your ex-boyfriend. 

But hoseok and Sua insisted on dropping you, which brings you here to the passenger seat yet again. 

Sua is asleep, which makes things between you and Hoseok even more tense. So, you keep your eyes on the window the entire time and sigh out of relief when your apartment comes into view. 

Taking in a deep breath while unbuckling the seat belt you say, “We’ve overcome the toughest part today. Sua will be fine soon.” 

“Yeah- yeah. Thanks for today.” Hoseok fumbles with his words. 

“It’s my job. Anyway, good night. Drive safe.” and you are already climbing out of the seat and shutting the door. 

Another second in the car and you may just ask him who the fuck Mina is. 

Just when you are about to take steps towards the entrance, Hoseok calls you from behind. 

You stop in your tracks as Hoseok comes to stand right before you. 

“Y/N, I- I actually wanted to clear up that Mina is just my colleague and we, you know, take care of each other at times.” He reasons. 

That’s what you thought too but you don’t know why he is even explaining this to you. 

“That's fine, Hoseok. There is no need to explain your personal matters to me. I am Sua’s therapist only.” yes that’s what you are, just a therapist of his daughter, a temporary addition to his life. You can’t want more. You should never want more. 

“I know but I felt the need to explain this to you. I don’t know why.” Hoseok takes a step towards you and you take a step back. Your back hits the car. 

The look in his eyes is absolutely dangerous. Your heart can’t decipher it. You mind can’t read what the man wants from you or what you want from him. But it’s addictive. You want more of his eyes, more of him.. Fuck.. all of him. Even if it’s a little too early. 

You are free falling… again. 

“Are you okay? You seemed to be uncomfortable with Sua’s question earlier.” Hoseok speaks again. And this time his breath hits your face. 

“I am fine. I should be fine.” you reply avoiding his eyes. 

“Correct me if I am crossing any lines but is that your ex-boyfriend?” 

You nod. 

You usually don’t like messing up personal and professional boundaries but with Hoseok things are different. With Hoseok you feel different. 

“He broke up with me recently after three years of relationship. He-” your voice chokes at the thought of that day when Jungkook confessed things you never even dreamt of, “he fell in love with someone else.” 

Hoseok lets out a low chuckle. When you look up at him, his eyes pierce through yours. 

“How can anyone even fall out of love with you?” His voice reaches a few octaves lower than usual. 

“What- what do you mean?” you murmur. 

“I mean that it’s hardly possible to leave you. Anyone would kill to have you as theirs.” Hoseok’s eyes drop on your lips. Your eyes are fixed on the mole right above his lip. 

“Anyone? Really? You too?” your voice comes out confident, mouth runs before mind can comprehend. 

“Fuck.” hoseok comes even closer, “Yes.. Yes I would too.” 

Hoseok leans down and your heart beats out of your chest in the prospect of what’s gonna happen next. 

But before your fantasies can take shape, the car window slides down and Sua peeks out and says, “Daddy, are we home yet?” while rubbing her eyes. 

You push Hoseok away lightly, he stumbles back replying to his daughter that they are at your apartment right now. 

Everything feels fuzzy and light but.. 

You are completely unaware of the pair of eyes that are watching your every movement through a sheer layer of cigarette smoke. 

Taglist:-

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @xjoonchildx @justmewondering-recs @cuteipat @miakey98 @purpleanchorcrown @chimmisbae @ane102 @junniesoleilkth @terjeonbebas @kookssecret @appleh4ad @kayleeshinee @whoa-jo @definetlythinkimanalien @lovelgirl22 @agrika

[laracrofted]

delicate

synopsis: bob floyd is good at everything, except maybe expressing his feelings. based on delicate by taylor swift.

pairings: bob floyd x fem!reader (no y/n)

warnings: 18+, minors and ageless blogs dni, listen... if you're a delicate enjoyer, you should know to expect light angst here. expect softness too and also, semi-explicit sex, swearing, and the like. (wc: 2.2K)

note: so i've done nothing but listen to delicate and watch the lewis pullman pottery videos all week. be gentle with me.

written for the love is in the air challenge hosted by the lovely @roosterforme.

summoning a few fellow bob floyd enjoyers: @theharddeck @bradshawsbitch @rhettabbotts @roleycoleyreccenter @hangmanbrainrot @t-nd-rfoot

Another late night comes, and Bob Floyd is naked on the other side of your bed. 

Moonlight shines in from the outside, slipping between the curtains that aren’t quite closed, and in the near dark, Bob looks almost contemplative, tracing the length of your spine with soft, barely there touches. 

He is like a statue, something carved from marble, stretched out against your side, close enough for you to feel the warmth that radiates from his skin. You are a seasonal bloom, curving towards the sun, basking in his warmth.

He isn’t wearing his glasses and so, probably can’t make you out as much more than shadow and light, but Bob doesn’t seem to mind, content to admire you in the darkness, content to find the shape of you through gentle touches. Fingertips skim the curve of your waist, drum along your ribcage, making you giggle into the pillows. 

He knows your ticklish spots, careful to press the kisses a little lighter on the back of your knee or skim his nose along the side of your neck, all slow and purposeful, depending on his mood. A smile pulls at his blushing mouth, swollen with kisses, paired with an amused exhale. 

That was definitely on purpose. 

The BCGs sit on the nightstand, set aside on a stack of books, next to the mug of chamomile tea, half-drunk and probably cold now. You don’t want him to reach for them, knowing that Bob only puts them back on to leave. 

He doesn’t reach for them. 

You have a few more minutes. 

You don’t mean to let your eyes close, but Bob is warm and familiar and comforting. It is a losing battle. 

He brushes a kiss across your hairline and settles there, muscles bulging in the folded arm under his head. His breaths, slow and steady and even, stir the escaping hairs there. 

You drift in and out, lost in dreams of smoking planes and late-night texts and chamomile tea and a whispered confession against your brow. Come back to awareness in the cold absence of his warmth, his weight sinking the cheap mattress.

Between your lashes, Bob is a shadow at the nightstand, already dressed again in the black t-shirt and dark jeans that he'd been wearing at the Hard Deck tonight, sending you the I’m coming over message. 

He doesn’t notice your gaze, staring down at the nightstand with a clenched jaw, still wearing that contemplative expression. It has soured somewhere in the middle, tinged with an internal debate. 

He casts his gaze down to you, looking over your sleeping form, brushing the back of his hand across your cheek. You don’t open your eyes, not brave enough to pull him back down beside you and ask him not to leave. 

Stay here. Don’t make me ask. 

And after a few minutes, Bob picks up his glasses and leaves. 

Bob Floyd is good and also, good at everything. 

He’s not loud about it. 

Not like Hangman is good at pool, cheering and fist-pumping after a trick shot to draw over a crowd, already recounting the shot in self-congratulatory to the nearest person who’ll listen. He preens at the attention, basking in it. 

“Not just good,” Hangman said once, not one to let a compliment slide without making it into a thing, making you regret saying anything at all. “Too good to be true.”

Bob’s not dramatic about it either. 

Like how Rooster will dance his fingers across the piano, playing a few teasing notes to make sure the Hard Deck quiets down around him, building the suspense of the moment, waiting for them to look at him. 

Not like that at all. 

He is unassuming, not expecting compliments or attention, and in the rare event that a Hard Deck patron or a fellow Naval avatar does notice how skilled Bob Floyd is at the pool table and the like, he is quick to dismiss the praise. 

He is just… good. It is that simple.

You’d been a civilian mechanic on North Island for a good six months and were utterly convinced that no Naval aviator who’d graduated from Top Gun could be anything other than a walking and talking ego. Experience hadn’t changed your mind.

It is probably your own fault. You’d made it too easy for him.

All Bob Floyd needed to do was be good, quietly good in that way of his, and Bob had you. 

It sneaks up on you. A startling realization.

You’ve never been this person, the one who is waiting for the text to light up your nightstand in the black, the one who is reaching across the still warm bed after, grasping for a ghost that’s already slipped out into the night. You aren’t supposed to want him like this.

You are supposed to be the cold one, the one with one foot out the door, ready to leave rather than get left. You don’t let anyone get close enough to hurt you, not anymore, and Bob Floyd isn’t supposed to be the exception.

He is though. 

He’s your friend. You like him.

He’s more than that. You like him. 

You let yourself dream for a while, imagining that maybe Bob Floyd could like you too. He could want to be with you – not just want you on dark nights, drenched in loneliness, looking for someone who would understand the life of a Naval aviator and not expect promises. 

It doesn’t always seem like such a dream. That, at least, helps you feel less foolish. 

He comes to check on the F-18 repairs that Phoenix used to spearhead and lingers to ask you more questions.

Another mechanic calls him your boyfriend. A tease meant to embarrass you, not him, but Bob flushes pink. 

His next words come out stuttered, caught in a sharp wind and knocked off course, but Bob doesn’t correct him. 

He doesn’t deny it, but Bob still leaves. 

And after Bob accidentally knocks your favorite mug from the nightstand with an errant foot, shattering it into pieces too small to glue back together, Bob makes you a new one. It is dotted with little pink and green flowers and on the bottom, marked with his initials.

Didn’t want it to get mixed up in the kiln, Bob explained to you, showing you the little R.F. on the bottom.

He can easily hold it in one hand, fingers wrapping around the sides and meeting near the handle. You weigh that against the delicate flowers that line the glaze and feel fragile.

You don’t know anything about ceramics – other than that Bob does know about them. Just like he can play the drums and pick out the constellations on clear nights. You do know that Bob must’ve spent at least a few days making it, if not a week. 

“It’s not perfect. Got a little misshapen around the handle because I didn’t…” He shows you, pointing out the imperfection. It is a little misshapen, endearingly so. Little pink flowers. You pinch your arm and miss his explanation. “Is it okay? I could try again.” 

He looks nervous. Moisture pricks at your eyelids.

“It’s perfect.” No one’s ever given me anything so thoughtful. I like you so much. You bite down on your lip hard and bring the mug close to your chest, cradling it. "I’m never using another mug ever again. You’ll have to put it in my grave with me.” 

He made it for you. 

No one has ever made anything for you before, and Bob made something so beautiful and personal and precious with you in mind. You feel raw, flayed right open for him to pierce you through the heart. 

He made it for you… and still, Bob leaves. 

A message lights up your phone screen, set aside on the kitchen counter during your meal preparation. It is much earlier than Bob would usually send an I’m coming over text, but Bob does text you about other things. You are friends after all. 

Need a pool partner at the Hard Deck. Come meet me in the back?

He comes home with you a little earlier that night, stays a little longer, holds you a little tighter, arms around you like steel bands; but eventually, like clockwork, Bob reaches for his glasses on the nightstand.  

You should’ve ended it ages ago. Protected your own heart. 

He looks so handsome, so beautiful in your bed, pressing your legs open to take you apart with his mouth, guiding your hands to stroke through his hair, silky and slightly damp from a late-night shower. Soaking in every sound that escapes from your mouth.

You almost say it then. 

You don’t, instead filling the silence with moans and gasps and the reverent repetition of his name. Move your fingers through the soft strands, tugging when Bob slides his ring finger into you and nudges at a spot that makes your vision haze. 

He moans against you, low and wanting, curling his fingers tighter around your thigh, hard enough to leave indents. You’ll check for bruises in the morning, even though Bob never leaves any. He’s always so careful with you. 

“Please,” Bob whispers, before making you shatter on his tongue.

You almost tell him then, but manage to hold it in, blinking the stars from your eyes, until Bob is sprawled across your bed after, mouth shining with you, pressing a wet kiss to your temple. 

Soft. Like a promise. 

“I really like you.” 

Half a second passes, and Bob is completely still. 

Fuck. You pull back from him.

Why did you say that? You shouldn’t have said anything, 

You’ve ruined it. It was good. You’ve ruined everything. You – 

A creaking bedspring. Bob reaches over you to turn on the light and grabs his glasses from the nightstand. You are both bathed in the warm yellow light as Bob slides them on.

Not to leave. He wants to see your face better.

He pushes himself upright, sliding to lean against the headboard, forearms rippling with the movement. Bob doesn’t leave. 

“You…” Bob hesitates, expression guarded. “You do?” 

It would be easier to lie about it. You can’t do it anymore. 

“I do. Is that… Is it okay that I said that? Is it too soon?” 

You can hear your own hope in your voice, unbridled, and Bob searches your expression, eyes wide and blue behind the wire frames. You’d never seen that color blue before him.

In lieu of an answer, Bob says, “I love you.” 

You might not be breathing. You’re definitely crying. 

He cups your cheek in a large palm, catching a tear that spills across the bridge of your nose. His voice is low and tender, enough to warm you from the inside out. “I’ve loved you for months now, and I couldn’t...” Wetness shines on his own cheek, and Bob brushes it away. “It felt so delicate and new, and I couldn’t risk losing you, even if I only ever got to have pieces.” 

A curl falls across his forehead. You brush it back, stroking your fingertips down his cheek, and Bob closes his eyes with a shuddering breath, leaning into your touch. He is shaking. 

“Not just pieces. You’ve had me, all of me the whole time.” 

And Bob rewards your confession with his own.

“I always wanted to stay with you. You never asked, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” And the corner of his mouth lifts in a wobbly smile. “That didn’t stop me from pushing my luck when I was feeling brave.” 

You remember. He’d hold you a little longer, pull away a little slower. He’d whisper words too low for you to make out. You wonder now if Bob was saying these words; if Bob had really whispered I love you in your dreams or said it for real. 

You need to know. “And if I ask you now?” 

“I’d stay with you,” Bob promises, serious and solemn. “I'd hold you. And then, in the morning, I’d bring you breakfast. I make a mean scrambled egg.” 

You laugh, and Bob smiles at the sound.

He lowers you onto your back, moving over you. He is broad enough to blot out the light, looking at you with such hope and love. His gaze moves between your eyes and your lips.

“Are you?” Bob asks, serious again. He raises your interlocked fingers and kisses the back of your hand. “Asking, I mean?” 

You kiss him. It is answer enough. 

For the rest of the night, Bob is all over you, kissing your cheeks, pinning your interlocked fingers into the soft sheets. He slides into you with your name on his lips, saying those three words over and over again, like a prayer.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

He lets go only once – to slide his glasses from his nose and deposit them back in their place on the nightstand.

And in the morning, Bob brings you coffee in a handmade mug with the little pink and green flowers. He stays. 

end note: i'd love to hear your thoughts and feelings, especially since i've never written a bob floyd fic before. happy valentine's day!

[pink-sparkly-witch]

Forever Hold Your Peace

Summary: Dean and Y/N dated for years, but his hunting lifestyle means he’s unwilling to move past dating. A few years later, Y/N invites Dean to her wedding to another man. A man who isn’t right for her, one she doesn’t love, one she hopes Dean stops her from marrying.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader (past)

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: The quote: “You’re never going to have a happy ending—just remember that.” for @j3bingo. This quote will be in bold.

Warnings: implied smut, double date, insecurities, wedding jitters, religious wedding ceremony (not overly descriptive), heart-to-heart, cheating, smut, fingering, oral sex (m rec), unprotected p in v, creampie, break up.

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: I’d like to start by saying that this is fiction, and I do not condone cheating in any capacity. I personally think it’s vile and unforgivable. With that being said, a little brainstorming session for this fic resulted in a cheating plot bunny that my muse would not leave alone and this is what happened. Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

My Masterlist     AO3     Ko-Fi

“Dean!” you giggle as your boyfriend nuzzles at your neck, pulling the hem of your dress up. “We’re going to be late!”

“Don’t care,” Dean skims his fingers over your panties, groaning when he feels the damp spot already there. “Haven’t seen you in weeks, baby, and I need you. Now.”

You don’t argue with him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him towards your lips.

Walking into the restaurant twenty minutes late, your hand rests on Dean’s forearm as he guides you slowly and carefully to your table, being mindful of your high-heeled feet. 

You grin, remembering what your boyfriend had done to you not half an hour ago and how he’s still taking his sweet time and is sure to be pissing Sam off with every second you’re late.

“Finally!” Sam groans as you reach the table. Dean, always the gentleman, pulls your chair out and tucks it back in, checking that you’re comfortable before he takes his seat.

“I know that look,” Eileen grins, and you feel your cheeks heat up.

“I’m sorry we’re late,” you say bashfully.

“Don’t be. I know you haven’t seen each other in six weeks,” Eileen smirks.

“Eight,” you blurt out. “Not that I’m counting.” Chuckles ripple through around the table, and Dean places his hand on your thigh and squeezes.

“So, what did you guys want to tell us?” Dean asks the couple sitting across from you.

“We’re engaged!” Eileen says, throwing her hand out to flash her ring.

“Oh my God, congratulations, guys!” you gush, standing to hug the couple. You’re genuinely happy for them. Sam and Eileen are made for each other, but it’s tinged with some sadness because you wish you were the one sporting a gorgeous, sparkling diamond ring and planning your wedding and future with Dean.

“Now Dean just needs to get his shit together and finally propose. It’s been five years, dude. Put a ring on it already!” Sam teases him, and you laugh good-naturedly but can’t help but notice your boyfriend isn’t even trying to pretend to be humoured as he scowls at his best friend.

Dean is quiet and withdrawn for the rest of the evening. The thick tension that fills the car ride home makes the insecurities you have about your relationship resurface.

While he’s never given you reason to doubt that he loves you or finds you attractive, his reluctance to take your relationship further and get engaged is starting to wear on you.

“Are you okay, De?” you ask cautiously. It’s not the first time someone has asked him about proposing - Sam and his friends never stop asking, but every time, Dean would push you away and pull into himself.

“Fine,” he nods, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. You know he’s not fine, but you don’t want to push. He clams up whenever someone mentions getting engaged, making you think you’re not worthy of him or good enough to be his wife.

You know it’s not healthy to ignore the issue, and you know if you want to know what’s going on here, you need to be the one to bring it up, but you’re scared. You love him deeply. Dean is your everything. And if you have this conversation with him, it could end your relationship. But you can’t keep going like this. You want to get married, and if it’s not what he wants, then you don’t think you can stay with him.

Caught up in your thoughts, you don’t notice you’re in Dean’s apartment until he throws his keys on the sideboard. 

“We’re okay, right?” It comes out of your mouth before you’ve thought about it, and you know there’s no backing down now. You and Dean are having this conversation tonight. “Because every time someone gets engaged or mentions us getting engaged, you clam up and shut me out. What is it? Do you not want to get married? Or do you just not want to marry me?”

“Can we not do this right now? Please, Y/N?” Dean asks, defeat clear in his tone.

“I think we need to, Dean.”

TWO YEARS LATER

“Y/N, honey, you look beautiful!” Your mother gushes when she sees you in your champagne wedding gown.

“Thanks, Mom,” you smile, straightening the front of the dress.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, taking your hands to stop you from fidgeting.

“Nervous,” you chuckle, and your mom smiles.

“I’d be worried if you weren’t!” she giggles. “Let’s get a few photos before you walk down the aisle.”

The past two years have been a blur, and you don’t really know how you got here. After you and Dean broke up, you weren’t looking for anyone to take his place yet. But when you saw him and another woman leaving a bar not even a month after you ended your five-year relationship, your best friend declared you needed to get back out there and get laid.

That’s when you met Matt. Sensible, quiet, safe, non-hunting Matt. He was everything Dean wasn’t, but at the time, that’s precisely what you needed. Within a year, you were living together, and three months after that, you were engaged. Next thing you know, your wedding day is here, and you’re questioning if you’ve even been present in your own life for the past two years.

It’s just the last-minute jitters you keep telling yourself, but you know deep down this isn’t what you want. You want to get married and have a family. You want a nice man who works hard and treats you right. Someone who has good values and ethics that match yours. Matt has all of those qualities, and yet something is missing.

“Smile, honey,” your mom says, and you do, completely on autopilot as you have been since Matt proposed.

“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace,” the priest says, and your heart pounds in your chest.

You don’t know what you were expecting, but when the priest’s words are met with silence, your heart sinks, and you resign yourself to your fate.

Dutifully, you repeat the vows the priest tells you to, say I do and let Matt place the ring on your finger. And smile prettily as Matt does the same, and you put a ring on his finger. You kiss your newly pronounced husband, take his arm, and walk down the aisle.

At the back of the church, in the last pew, your gaze lands on familiar green eyes, and you feel pure anger. He came… he came, and he didn’t stop the wedding. Absence didn’t make his heart grow fonder, and he still doesn’t want to marry you. He doesn’t want you.

The rage dulls quickly, and bile rises in your throat as you realise what you were waiting for before you said your vows. You were hoping and praying Dean would stop the wedding, that he’d tell you what a mistake he made and that he still loves you and wants you back.

But he didn’t. And now it’s over for good.

Somehow, you manage to pull yourself together enough to greet each guest as they leave the church. Dean politely kisses your cheek and smiles sadly as he tells you you make a beautiful bride. He congratulates Matt and tells him he’s a lucky man, and then he’s gone.

Someone ushers you both away to take the official photographs with your family and close friends, and you once again force a smile on your lips, trying to mask your broken heart.

“Hey, sweetie,” Matt kisses your cheek and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” you lie, getting your marriage off to a good start. “I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed. I’m going to the room for a bit. Refresh my makeup and take my hair out before these hairpins give me a headache!”

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asks, and you shake your head with a giggle.

“No. I’ll be fine. Besides, we can’t have the bride and the groom disappear. People will talk!”

“I guess you’re right,” Matt chuckles. “Hurry back so I don’t miss you.”

“I promise, I won’t be long,” you reassure as you kiss his cheek and sneak away to the bridal suite for some breathing space.

Walking along the hallway, you smile politely and thank the hotel’s non-wedding guests who congratulate you as you pass on the way to your room and hope the tears don’t fall yet. 

You sigh in relief as you swipe the card and open the door. Hurrying inside, you turn around to push the door closed, only for a foot to push in and stop it.

“Y/N? Can I come in and talk,” Dean says. In your shock, you let go of the door and step back, unintentionally inviting him into what you’d hoped could serve as a sanctuary for you to get your shit together.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Dean.” He’s already closing the door behind him, and you know no matter what you say or do, he’s not leaving until he says what he came here to say.

“Sweetheart,” he says, and your body responds to the term of endearment with goosebumps. “Why are you crying?” he asks as he steps towards you, but you step back.

“Why are you here, Dean?” you ask, throwing your hands up in exasperated defeat.

“You invited me,” he responds, confused by your question. “And I gotta say, Y/N, I’m glad I came because you’re making a huge mistake here. You don’t love him.”

“Of course I do. I just married him, for god’s sake. He’s kind and funny, and he takes care of me. He’s a good man,” you defend.

“That doesn’t mean you should marry him, Y/N!”

“At least he wanted to marry me. You didn’t think I was good enough for that!”

“What?”

“I know you, Dean. When we were friends before we started dating, you always used to talk about settling down and getting married one day. Having a couple of kids and a dog and a white picket fence. We were together for over five years, and whenever I brought it up, you shut me down or changed the subject. You strung me along instead of telling me you didn’t love me and letting me go.”

“I didn’t mean—I did love you. I still do. I didn’t ask you to marry me because I was scared I wasn’t enough for you. I was always gone, always hunting some creature from hell, always putting you in danger. I couldn’t drag you into all that. I love you too much—”

“That’s bullshit, Dean, and you know it! Sam and Eileen got out of the life just fine. If you wanted to make it work, you’d have made it work. Fuck, I thought we were working!”

“We did work because we loved each other, but sweetheart, every time we saw each other, you knew the exact number of days or weeks it’d been since we’d last seen each other, and it killed me. Because you deserve better than that.”

“Shouldn’t I have been the one to make that decision? Been the one to tell you if I couldn’t handle the time apart or you hunting monsters every other week for months on end? No,” you hold your finger up at him. “Don’t answer that because you know what? I don’t care. It was a mistake to invite you today.”

“Then why did you?” Dean asks, and you frown, taken aback by his question.

“Because as stupid as it sounds, I thought you might still love me. That we still had a chance. That just maybe, you’d…” you sigh. The worst thing you can do right now is tell him you wanted him to stop the wedding; wanted him to be the reason you called this shit-show off.

“I do love you. I made a mistake when I let you leave me, and you’re making one right now. You don’t love him like you should. Like you loved me. And if you go through with this, you’ll regret it.”

“Did you miss the part where I said I do in church? In front of God and a whole bunch of witnesses - you included?”

“You can get it annulled. He’s not right for you, sweetheart.”

“And you are?” you scoff, exhausted with the whole situation.

“Yes!”

“You’re unbelievable, Dean! I’m married. Happily.”

“You said you know me. Well, I know you, too, Y/N. You’re not happy. I know what you look like when you’re happy and in love. And this isn’t it. You don’t love him. He loves you, sure. That’s clear from a million fucking miles away, and maybe that’s why you’re marrying him. But you don’t love him. And if you’re set on staying with him, you’re never going to have a happy ending—just remember that.”

“Then why didn’t you stop me?” you finally let it out. The thing you’d secretly been hoping and praying that he’d do.

“Because you look absolutely stunning, Y/N. You’ve always wanted to be a bride and get married, and he’s a decent, safe, and stable guy. And I can’t…” he trails off and looks away from you for the first time.

“You can’t what, Dean? Love me? Because you did. Really, really, well. Take care of me? Because you did that, too. Marry me? If being with you means I can’t be a wife, it doesn’t matter because I don’t need to be your wife to be loved and cared for by you.”

Dean’s lips find yours, and you gasp in surprise. He slides his tongue in your mouth, and you moan. You’ve missed his kiss, his taste… fuck, you’ve missed him.

“Say the word, sweetheart, and I’m gone forever, but I need you to know that I never stopped loving you, and I never will. I’ll get out of the life for good. I’ll get a house and a job, and if you want me, want us… we’ll leave here together right now.”

You kiss him this time, knowing it’s wrong, but it feels so right. You haven’t felt like this since before that fateful dinner where Sam and Eileen told you about their engagement.

“Dean, please,” you gasp against his lips, and he quickly pulls your dress up around your waist and slides his hand into your wet panties. 

Dean groans as your slick coats his fingers, and without warning, he pushes two fingers inside you and curls them while thumbing your clit. It’s been so long since you’ve felt pleasure like this, and you quickly fall apart on his fingers.

“Good girl. You must’ve needed that, sweetheart. Even our first time together, you didn’t come that fast,” Dean growls in your ear, and you shiver at his warm breath brushing against your neck and hair. “Mattie boy’s not much in the bedroom, huh?”

The mention of your husband’s name should snap you back to reality, but it only does the opposite, and you drop to your knees and undo his belt. You moan when you uncover his hard, leaking cock and wrap your lips around it.

“Fuck, baby girl, I forgot how good that mouth is,” Dean growls, sliding his hands into your hair and pulling on it. “So pretty with my cock in your mouth, sweetheart.”

He still knows what to say to get you going, and his words make you moan around his cock, smirking when it makes him push in further. “Fuck, Y/N, need your pussy, sweetheart.” He pulls himself from you and helps you stand.

Dean pushes you onto the bed and reaches under the skirt of your dress to pull off your panties. Once he’s thrown them across the room, he grabs your ankles and pulls you towards the end of the bed, wrapping your legs around his waist.

You grab the skirt and pull it over your waist, giving him a good view of your dripping pussy. 

“Fuck, so perfect, baby girl,” Dean rasps, teasing you by sliding his stiff cock between your soaking folds, coating himself in your slick.

“Dean, please!” you beg, wanting him to stop teasing you.

“You need something, sweetheart?” he smirks, pushing the tip of his cock into you and pulling out again to tap it against your clit.

“I need your cock inside me, Dean. Please!” you beg.

“Alright, baby girl. You ready for me?” he asks, his gaze trained on yours. The second you nod, he pushes in and stretches you perfectly, ripping a low moan from your throat.

“Fuck!” you gasp, your walls fluttering wildly to comfortably accept him.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” His concern for you is sweet, making you smile and reach your hand out to grasp one of his.

“Yeah. Forgot how big you are,” you grin, and Dean smirks at your response as he pulls out and pushes back in, a moan now ripping from his throat.

“It shouldn’t be this hot to fuck you in a wedding dress, especially when I’m not the groom,” he growls as he sets a slow and hard pace, slamming into you as hard as he can and pulling out agonisingly slowly.

“Dean!” you whimper, and Dean presses your thighs further into the mattress. You push up, resting on your elbows and watch him pound into you with abandon, moaning as he pushes in and out of your core.

“Fuck, sweetheart, not gonna last. Your pussy feels too fucking good,” Dean growls, his hips speeding up, his eyes fixed - like yours - on him disappearing and reappearing from inside you.

His fingers tease your clit, making you fall over the edge in the most powerful orgasm you’ve had in years. It’s no exaggeration - the last time you felt like this was by Dean’s hands before you broke up.

He slams into you one last time, pushing against your cervix and stills. With a roar, he empties himself inside you, and the feeling is euphoric, sending you into a smaller climax that makes him hiss as your walls squeeze his sensitive cock.

Once he’s caught his breath, Dean pulls himself from your core, and you wince at the loss. You feel his come pour out and watch as he looks down at your abused hole and smirks at the mess he’s left there.

“Y/N?” you hear from the door, and both of your heads snap towards the unexpected voice.

“Matt!” you gasp. “Look, I can explain.” It’s the first thing that comes out of your mouth, and it’s a lie because how the hell do you even start trying to explain this?

“Don’t,” Matt scoffs. “We haven’t even been married for two hours. You’re still in your wedding dress!” 

“I know. I didn’t intend for this to happen, but Dean—”

“Dean?” Matt asks in disbelief. “The Dean that broke your heart? That Dean?”

You gulp and glance at the man in question before looking back at your husband and nodding.

“Why is he even here, Y/N?”

“I invited him,” you mumble weakly.

“You…? Invited… why?” Matt is fuming, and you can feel the rage coming off him in waves, and honestly, you don’t blame him for a second.

“I wanted… no, needed to see him one last time—” Matt’s scoffs cuts you off.

“We’ll, you’ve certainly seen him, haven’t you? And for god’s sake, cover yourself up! I don’t need to be reminded that my wife was unfaithful on our wedding day!”

You quickly pull your skirt down to cover yourself, and the shame you feel is overwhelming.

“Do you still love him?” Matt asks, his tone softening. You gaze towards Dean, wanting to get a read on what he’s feeling. “Don’t look at him; look at me.” You take a deep breath and look at your husband. “Do you still love him?”

“Yes. I never stopped,” you say, telling Matt the truth. After all, he deserves that. 

Matt nods sadly, accepting what you’re telling him. “Did you ever love me?” he asks, and your heart breaks to know what you say next will hurt him.

“Yes. I do love you, Matt. I’m just not in love with you. I’m sorry.” Tears slip from your eyes, but you quickly wipe them away.

“That’s what I’ve always been afraid of,” Matt says, a soft smile on his face. “I suppose I should be glad it happened now and not years from now when we’ve made each other miserable. I’ll get annulment papers drawn up. Let you know when they’re ready to be signed.”

Frowning, you glance at Dean, who looks just as confused by the turn of events as you are. Looking back at Matt, you see that despite the tears in his eyes, he’s still smiling softly at you.

“Y/N, when you told me about Dean, I knew you’d never love me the same way. I just hoped I’d be enough to make you happy. But I see now it was naive of me to think I could do that.”

“Matt, I—”

“Take care of her, Dean,” Matt says as he turns and leaves the room, leaving you and Dean dazed and stunned.

“Well, that went surprisingly well,” Dean announces. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, unable to think straight with your wedding ring weighing heavy on your finger and Dean’s seed still dripping down your thighs.

“You wanna get out of here?” Dean asks, crouching before you and placing his hands on your cheeks. “Go out to the cabin and try to figure this out?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you smile when Dean presses his lips to your forehead.

“Alright, let me grab your things, and we’ll get you out of here.”

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

33 with Peter

33. soft kisses while cuddling in bed

—

May had a night shift at the hospital last night, so Peter invited you for a sleepover. You weren’t doing anything sneaky, though. May knew. Peter always invited you over when she was had a night shift. He didn’t like being alone in the apartment for a full night — even superheroes have fears.

You and Peter decided to make today a slow morning and stay in bed for as long as possible. It was gloomy and dark outside, which was a perfect excuse to stay in. 

You quietly talked about everything and nothing while cuddling in bed — and sharing a few soft kisses.  

''Why did you fall for me?'' Peter asked out of the blue, insecurity lacing his voice. ''I mean, you could’ve had a much better guy than me.'' 

''Well, I tried messaging Robert Pattinson on Instagram, but he never responded,'' you joked, but Peter wasn’t in a laughing mood. 

''I’m being serious, Y/N... You’re so beautiful and intelligent and caring and generous and funny and— and I’m just...me. Plain old Peter who loves Star Wars and never gets invited to parties.''

Peter had P.E. yesterday, so you guessed Brad or Flash must’ve said something in the locker room. About you and Peter. They always played with Peter’s brain out of jealousy and it disgusted you. 

You reached up and cupped Peter’s face gently, looking right into his deep brown eyes, catching the tinge of sadness into them. ''Do you want to know why I like you, Peter?'' He didn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue. ''You’re kind,'' you said, tracing the line of his eyebrow with your other hand. ''Courageous.'' You dragged your finger over his cheekbone. ''Selfless.'' Then, up the shell of his ear and taking a piece of his curly hair and twirling it around your finger, you eyes still gazing into his. ''And always make me laugh with your witty remarks and nerdy references. You're the coolest person I've ever met and you don't even have to try.''

''I try really hard, actually,'' Peter admitted. 

You leaned down to kiss him, but Peter’s phone went off, its ringtone echoing loudly in the bedroom and disturbing your moment. 

''Don’t pick up,'' you begged. 

''I have to. It might be Mr. Stark.'' 

He sat up, but you clung onto him, trying to keep him in bed. ''He’ll leave a message. You can call him back later.'' 

Knowing Tony would just keep calling until Peter would answered, he easily slid from your hold and reached onto his nightstand for his phone. 

Peter's eyed widened in panic. This was worse than Mr. Stark. ''It’s May. She forgot her keys and she's outside. I have to go unlock the door for her.''

—

Marvel taglist: @xenasolos @chrizzierbsstuff @ayamenimthiriel @alina02 @turtleshavesoulmates @staygoldsquatchling02 @daemonslittlebitch  @wetwilliam02 @haileyismoo @manofworm @rhydianissuperior @supersanelyromantic @nicangel13 @mxxny-lupin  @sweeterheartxamerica @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @arunaposeidondottie @liidiaaag @katsukis1wife  @amithesimpoffandoms  @acornacreacure @chaotic-fangirl-blog  @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue @youdontneedtoknowthisinformation  @aabananaa @starrrslove  @angeliod

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron

[airsignss]

JOSÉ, JOSÉ, JOSÉ, JOSÉÉÉÉÉÉÉÉÉÉÉÉ

[scarletttries]

NSFW Headcanon Request: Steven Grant (Moon Knight)

Pairing: Steven Grant x F! Reader

Word Count: 1.8k (Explicit)

Request: "If you are still taking requests from the prompt list… what about Steven Grant and the Alleyway/Alley corner? I recently found your blog and it is *chefs kiss*"

Steven Grant + Alley/Alleyway: (prompt list here)

- Working under the guidance of an ancient Egyptian goddess was hard enough, without having to track one of your counterparts halfway across the globe every time he had a crisis of confidence. Marc Spector had been a thorn in your side for years on the job, his stubborn and erratic personality making him a nightmare to work with and the last person you'd willingly spend time with.

- So when you landed in London and started tailing him to see what shit he was pulling before you made your move, you could hardly believe the the change you saw in him - his arrogance facade faded into a sweetheart who took pride in showing little kids around a museum and helping them pick out toys, even if it seemed like a bittersweet irony that he always strayed into the Egyptian exhibits first. The man had become a creature of habit, taking the same route to and from work every day, stopping at the same places, and generally being far too easy to track for your liking.

- You were sure it was a trap, some fucked up game Marc was playing with you, but that didn't stop you deciding enough was enough and confronting him one night. He'd just finished his shift at the museum, leaving late after being punished with inventory, and as always got the bus back to his side of town. You were sure he'd noticed you sat with your back to him on the bus, but he chose not to say a word which only left you feeling more confused about this game of cat and mouse.

- Finally he slipped down the dimly lit alley that took him almost all the way home, footsteps speeding up slightly, like subconsciously he could sense that he wasn't alone on his journey.

"Marc!" You called out, stepping into the alleyway and blocking his path, his strict daily pattern making him just too easy to intercept. You expected him to start running, to scale the walls beside you, but instead you just heard a quivering voice, with a slightly unplaceable accent, reply,

"Umm, my name's Steven. With a v."

- As you strode closer the cowering man didn't back away, or even try to move a muscle, his wide eyes tracing over your silhouette as he took you in, surprised by the colour flushing to his cheeks and his rumbled brain choosing your beauty to focus on above all else.

"Fuck off Marc, you don't think i'm falling for that do you? We have work to do." You sighed frustratedly, feeling a tinge of guilt as he shook his head vigorously, eyes apologetic and soft, the antithesis of every interaction you'd had with Marc Spector.

"I'm really sorry, I don't know who that is, but I promise I'm just Steven, and we've never met before. Except you were on the bus before right?"

"So you did notice me tailing you?" You countered quickly, trying to get the truth behind the spark of recognition in his eyes. He gulped and nodded, suddenly very self conscious,

"It's hard not to notice a woman as pretty as you."

- His gentle smile, the warmth in his words, the slight hint of both fear and excitement in his eyes, this was definitely not Marc - and you were starting to feel more and more pleased with that fact as you let a smile creep across your cheeks, like everything that bothered you about Marc was reversed here, but in same gorgeous muscled package that you'd wanted to get a better look at for years.

- You only had to take two steps forward before Steven backed himself against the wall, desperately confused by the overlapping feelings of intimidation and arousal building up inside him, sure no-one had ever looked at him quite this way before, the happiest a deer has ever been to be in headlights.

"You're not so bad yourself Steven with a v, and SO much more charming than the guy I was looking for." You purred, inching forward until your body brushed lightly against his, the contact enough to know he was just as interested as you are.

- He didn't know quite how he ended up here, but Steven's mentally cheering himself on for managing not to mess this up yet, confident that anything else he says might be the thing that scares you away - not that you seem like the kind of person who's ever scared really. So he decides not to open his lips again, and instead listens to the voice in his head that tells him to lean forwards, setting his lips lightly against yours, testing the tempting waters he'd let himself sink straight beneath.

- You're leaning into him in no time, fingers trailing through his hair as your lips part, tongue taking control of the kiss and showing him he really doesn't need to be gentle with you. It's been a long time since you'd been able to take a break from work to have a little fun, and even if you still have to hunt down Marc, you can take a night off to enjoy a sweet British guy who takes way too long to build up the nerve to put his hands on your waist.

- You use your arms looped around his neck to pull his body flush against yours, grinding your hips against him and swallowing the whimper he lets out in response. His eyes are clenched shut as he tries to keep some semblance of self-control, mortified by each of the soft moans that slip out at every brush of your hips, determined not to let this opportunity get away from him. He lets his hands drift down your hips, skimming over your thighs as one gingerly reaches under your skirt, stopping when it finds the wet patch starting to form on your panties in all the anticipation.

"Bloody hell love." He breathes out as he starts to toy with you through the slick fabric, the sweet noises his touch elicits emboldening him to apply more pressure, rubbing firm circles over your clit, feeling your breath falter against him. He captures your lips in a greedy kiss as slips his fingers inside the fabric, his thumb returning to your clit as two fingers slide inside you, the delicious stretch almost enough to buckle your knees. His free hand keeps you pinned to his chest as works you up, every touch leaving you panting against him, your kiss trailing to his neck, leaving a bruise he'll wear with endless pride tomorrow.

- As his relentless pace starts to build the pressure inside your core, your thighs tremble again, making it harder and harder for you to keep upright in his arms, his own aching need growing inside his straining trousers. When he hears you moan out his name, he decides it's now or never, taking his hand away just short of your bliss, the whine that escapes your throat entirely involuntary.

"Just a second love, I'll be all yours again soon." Despite his clear power over you, he still stumbles over the words as he glances over his shoulder before undoing his belt, slipping his trousers down just far enough for his throbbing manhood to spring free, the cold night air making him hiss through his teeth at the sensation. Dropping to his knees he places a constellation of gentle kisses on your inner thigh as he slides your soaked panties down your leg, handling you oh so delicately as he helps you step free of them, stuffing them in his pocket before bringing his lips to sensitive skin again.

"You really know how to make a girl weak in the knees." You praised, surprised by the sweet giggle your comment drew from the man. The comment spurred him on to pull your thighs around his waist, rising back to his feet and pressing you against the wall behind you, now face to face again with so little fabric between you.

- Reading the uncertainty on his face you quickly nodded, squeezing your legs around him until you felt him start to slide inside of you, his fingers barely doing his size justice. Pure elation flashed across his face as you moaned out his name, the way he filled you quickly bringing your building pleasure back to the brink again. His hands gripped your ass hard as his hips bucked against you, sharp thrusts fucking into you over and over, his lips hungrily swallowing yours like he'd been starved pf the sweet affections of a kiss for as long as he could remember.

You grabbed at his broad shoulders, struggling to stay upright as his pace quickened, holding off his own release with everything he had before he could give you everything you needed. You were grateful he lived a pretty quiet side of town, the noise of the two of you echoing through the alley, the danger of getting caught only heightening all your senses as Steven's needy whines grew with the frantic pace of his hips, fighting his release but losing the battle in such a salaciously hot situation. You couldn't help but think you might need to extend your time in London to find out what other talents this Steven held, all thoughts of Marc long gone as a his new heavy rhythm brushed just the right spot inside you to have your head rolling back against the cold brick wall as you clenched down around him, your release all the more satisfying for his immediately following it. He clung to you like you were the first life preserver he'd been thrown in a very long storm, panting and moaning as your waves of pleasure seemed to ripple straight through him too, his lips chasing yours even as he desperately struggled to fill his lungs.

- As you come down from your high you'd have to tap him on the shoulder,

"Steven, you can put me down now." Straight back to bashful and embarrassed he'd apologize and pull out of you, cursing the whimper he let out as he finally left your soft warm entrance, dropping to the floor to ensure you were safely back on your feet, and feeling his heart do a flip as he caught a glimpse of his cum starting to drip out of your pussy and onto your thigh.

- By the time he's started to redress himself you're halfway down the alley, disappearing into the dark, leaving him calling after you,

"Am I going to see you again?" He wants to shout your name, but realises he never found it out.

"Maybe. I know where to find you Steven with a v." You replied without looking back, smirking to yourself at the thought of showing up at his door any time you wanted. You only missed the proud smile he gave himself as he pulled your underwear out of his pocket, knowing he'll struggle to think of anything else on his lonely nights now, mumbling to himself 'more like Steven without a v.'