#yes i love english and it was part of my growing love for languages and stuff yes i hate english with all my guts we exist

[joelsgoldrush]

“GIVE ME ALL OF THAT ULTRAVIOLENCE” | 1.9k

logan howlett x fem!reader

SUMMARY: You give Logan head for the first time.

WARNINGS/TAGS: smut - mdni 18+ implied age gap, dirty talk, kind of inexperienced reader, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, dom!logan, a tiny bit of degradation (yeah i'm a whore we already knew that), he guides you through the whole experience (shocking!!! i know)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HI PALS!!! yes i'm alive and kicking. yes university is killing me. so recently i’ve been OBSESSED with this man and i needed to write something for him. english is not my first language and i may have made some mistakes (if you encounter any you can tell me, i won't mind it). comments/likes/reblogs would be highly appreciated. i've got sooooo many ideas to write and i'm finally getting my hands on them. i missed you all so fucking much. hope you enjoy this!!!

It’s common knowledge that all humans have needs. Try as you may, there’s a primitive side that you can’t spare yourself from. You, as everybody else, have urges.

“Logan,” you basically mewl his name, five letters that roll off your tongue with little effort. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge you, his kisses growing harsher on the delicate skin of your neck. Threading your fingers through his hair, you decide to try again, speaking a bit louder this time. “Logan, please.”

“What is it, honey?” he says, bitten lips still pressed to your pulse point. As you remain silent, he looks up at you, those big, brown eyes that you love so dearly almost completely dark now. “Do you want to call it a day?”

His question catches you off-guard. You cup his face, thumbs caressing his cheekbones, suddenly afraid that he might pull away from you. “No! Not at all. That’s- that’s not what I want at all, actually.”

“What do you want, then? You can tell me,” he kisses you on the lips, softly at first. What starts as nothing more than a sweet kiss turns into a needier one, his hard on poking you through your shorts. “Come on. Tell me, baby. What does my sweet girl want?”

“I want to suck you off, Logan,” you whisper as you latch your mouth onto his, and you can feel how he visibly tenses beneath you. His breath hitches in his throat when you grind your hips. “I really need it.”

From the very beginning of your relationship, you had made things crystal clear: you didn’t have much experience on this territory. For a man his age, he was totally understanding. He knew you had your own times, that for him to take you to bed would take longer. Truth be told, Logan was willing to go to the ends of the world for you. There was no use in forcing anything.

At present, the bulge amid his legs becomes even more noticeable as you get off his lap, playing with his belt. “Can I?” you ask him, amazed at how straightforward you’re being.

Logan stares at you, so far panting, lust glowing in his eyes. “Shit, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters as he helps you undress him. His worn out jeans end up pooling around his ankles, and you locate yourself in between his legs. 

You’re on your knees, hands folded in front of you. Suddenly, it hits you, the shame of it all. How badly you want him, how desperate you are to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue. How many nights you’ve dreamt of this moment, unable to stop that unbearable need of touching yourself every time you thought about pleasuring him.

That’s what you truly want. For him to use you.

“What’s wrong, princess? We’ve talked about this a lot of times. You know what to do,” you can’t help but stare at his crotch as you listen to him, and then he raises your chin with his finger, your lips parting unconsciously. You blink slowly at him, eyelashes fluttering together. At last, he seems to understand what you’re trying to tell him, and he raises his eyebrows, that cocky grin of his taking place where it belongs. “You want me to guide you, don’t you? Want me to tell you what to do? Know you like it when I go a bit off the rails.”

You moan at his words, squeezing your eyes shut and nuzzling your cheek up against his palm. Slick gathers in your panties as you push your thighs together. “Please. Tell me what to do.”

“Take it out,” he instructs you, and you do as you’re told. Grabbing him by the base, you pull his cock out of his briefs. He twitches in your hand, and he’s so, so incredibly big. 

You stroke him once, testing the feeling. This you know how to do. You’ve given him hand jobs millions of times, although this one feels particularly different from the others.

He takes hold of your fist, applying a bit of pressure. “I’m sorry, baby. I think you got it all wrong. I’m the one who makes the calls here, okay?” he grunts, his brows knitted, and you only nod, salivating at the sight of his cock already leaking precum at the tip. Logan licks his lips, curling his hand around yours. “You do as I say. Now, stroke me. Nice. And. Slow,” he punctuates each of his words by moving both your hand and his in unison around his length. “That’s it, darling. You just need someone to boss you around from time to time, ain’t I right?”

One thing to know about Logan: he’s so full of himself on a daily basis, but he just gets worse in bed.

“My mouth,” you hover your lips over the head of his cock, all shiny and soft. He has let you go, both of his arms now flexed behind his head, as if he were appreciating how pathetic you must look on your knees, begging for him to allow you to taste him. “Let me.”

“Not yet,” his hips follow your tormenting pace, seeking the warmth that your skin radiates. He grits his teeth, biting his lower lip. You’ve no idea how a man so strong can become putty in your hands like this. “Greedy girl. I’m beginning to think you’ve set me up. Only a slut would get so worked up about having a cock in her mouth. What happened to my innocent girl? Gone with the wind, huh?”

“Please, Lo. I need it so bad,” you are whining, peppering his thighs with kisses. You inhale his musky scent, getting dizzy. “Give it to me. I’ll be good.”

Out of nowhere, Logan grabs a handful of your hair, forcing you to arch your back. He scrutinizes your face, studying your blissed out demeanor. “I don’t doubt that. I’m sure you’ll be good. Otherwise, we’ll keep on trying. We have all night, and you have a good memory, just need to put it to use,” as he taps your lower lip with his tip, you catch him smirking. He repeats that same motion until he has you shivering from the excitement of being stuffed. ”Show me how much you need it. Go easy on it at first, okay? Don’t want you choking beforehand.”

You’re more than happy to comply.

Your tongue darts out to lick at his head, enveloping it between your lips. The salty taste of his precum invades your tastebuds, and you moan as you trace the veins of his cock with the pad of your thumb. “Tastes so good, Lo,” your voice sounds distant, almost unrecognizable to your own ears.

“I know, bub. Such a nice fucking mouth, can’t believe you’ve never done this before. I guess you’re a natural,” shaky fingers place a strand of hair behind your ears, patting your head as if you were a dog in heat. “Do you feel like bobbing your head a little?” he asks you, and you prepare yourself, attaching your mouth to his head once again. “Good. That’s good.”

With that being said, Logan fists your hair once again and shoves your face down, his hard cock tickling your throat. Your whines and his rapid breaths are the only sounds to be heard in your bedroom. He grins as he takes in the sight of you. “Oh, sweetheart. You look so beautiful with your mouth stretched around me,” his index finger taps your cheek and he feels the outline of his own cock. “You know I can smell you, right? You’re fucking soaked, baby. Think you’ll leave a stain on the carpet? You’d clean it off with your tongue, wouldn’t you?”

You have no idea how he’s coming up with these things, but you’re far from annoyed. In fact, you’ve never been this wet. Your underwear must be ruined at this point, and you wish Logan would tell you to touch yourself.

After some minutes of bobbing your head up and down, he pulls you off his cock and you breathe through your mouth for the first time in a while. As you gasp for air, Logan kisses you, tasting himself. He massages the back of your neck, his cock throbbing between the two of you. “You tired?”

Your glossy eyes widen. Shaking your head, you go for his balls this time, sucking one of them while toying with the other. Logan buries his hands in your hair for what must be the hundredth time in the night, unable to stop himself. “F-fuck, that’s it. A pretty girl like you just gets what she needs,” he praises you, and you return to his length, taking as many inches as you can without hurting yourself. Tears shimmer in your eyes, yet you can’t bring yourself to care about that detail. You’re far too focused on Logan’s grunts and growls. “Keep that up and I’ll come. You heard me? You’re gonna make me fucking come, bub.”

His words ignite a fire inside you. You use your hands, your mouth, everything that you have to pleasure him. He’s getting closer and closer, thighs shaking when you pay special attention to his tip. Logan responds to each of your movements, and as you feel every coherent thought fly out the window, you try to take him all the way down your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. He cants his hips up, brutally fucking your mouth. Like a dog without a leash, Logan seems to get lost in the warmth that envelopes his cock, chasing his own release. “You’re such a good girl. My good girl. Nobody will fuck this mouth ever again. I’ll ruin you for any pathetic guy that tries to get in your pants. You’re fucking mine, darling. Oh, f-fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck-”

You’re met with his happy trail once he spills his hot load inside your mouth. He keeps you trapped there, his cock twitching and spamming through the aftershocks of his orgasm. You don’t think twice and swallow what he’s giving you. Some of his cum slips from your lips, falling directly onto the carpet. Even Logan seems surprised when he doesn’t stop coming.

He helps you stand up after a moment, kissing you as soon as he gets the chance. He licks into your mouth, squeezing the flesh of your hips. Logan lifts his eyebrows, relishing how cock-drunk you must look. “I think you nearly killed me. And that’s a lot to say coming from someone who cannot fucking die.”

You plaster a smile on your face, hugging his wide frame. “So, was I okay?”

His jaw goes slack, and he lowers his head to capture your lips in another kiss. “You were fantastic. I could easily get hard again just from thinking about it,” his fingers trace the buttons of your shirt, tugging at the fabric of it. “What if you let me focus on yourself for a while? You’ve already done enough, baby. Let me take care of you,” he rubs his hands on your thighs, reaching for your drenched panties. “Perhaps we could try something else today. That pussy’s begging to be fucked.” 

dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗧𝗢𝗥

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Y/N and Matt are in a complicated relationship, where Matt is still stuck in the past with his ex. In an angsty pathway, Y/N suffers when she realizes that Matt will never love her as she wants.

WARNING: Crying, panic attack, comparison, ANGST.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Part 2

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N adjusted her stunning dress in front of the mirror. The bright red silk fabric hugged her curves in a way she knew would make heads turn that night. Her hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders, meticulously styled by her curling iron, and her makeup highlighted her features impeccably.

There was a palpable excitement in the air, an expectation of Matt's reaction; she always expected to receive showers of praise from her boy, just as she did for him. The party they were about to go to - a fancy one that celebrated the launch of the new Space Camp line - would be the perfect opportunity to show everyone, and especially him, how hard she worked to be perfect.

The low sound of the bedroom door's handle turning sounded through the silence, Matt's figure appearing through the wooden frame, and all Y/N could feel as she watched him through the mirror's reflection was her racing heart. He looked stunning in his black suit, the crooked tie relaxing the seriousness of his attire.

She waited for the compliment, for the spark in his eyes that would confirm that all the effort had been worth it.

"You look beautiful, Y/N." Blue eyes traveled over her body for some seconds, but before she could absorb the joy of that moment, he finished. "Did you know that Amanda has a dress similar to yours?"

Y/N felt her stomach tighten painfully as her heart felt like it was being broken by a hammer three times its size. Amanda. Always Amanda. Matt's ex-girlfriend was a constant shadow between them, a specter that Y/N could never completely dispel.

She forced a smile, swallowing the anguish rising in her throat.

"Oh, really?" Was all she could say, trying to keep her voice steady, her hands shaking slightly at the side of her hips.

Later that day, the party continued with Y/N ​​by Matt's side, but her mind was far away. Every time someone praised her, she remembered Matt's comment. Even surrounded by people and with Matt by her side, she felt incredibly alone.

Her thoughts revolved around a single question: Why couldn't he see her for who she was instead of always comparing her to Amanda?

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

A few weeks later, a new day brought a new blow. Matt was in his shared room with Y/N, sitting in his gaming chair with his upper body resting on the wooden surface, his hands on his Macbook, busy answering emails sent to the triplets' mail.

Y/N entered quietly, carrying two glasses full of fresh watermelon juice, knowing that Matt would definitely be thirsty and hungry after hours of sitting there. But as she got closer, she saw his computer screen. The messaging app was open, and the open window wasn't just any texts — it was old conversations between Matt and Amanda.

He read them with a melancholic smile, his eyes shining with a longing that Y/N knew all too well.

"Matt..." Her voice came out in an involuntary whisper, the broken tone sounding louder than it was expected.

The boy startled, closing the laptop quickly.

"Babe, hey, you scared me!" The boy turned around suddenly, clearing his throat and laughing awkwardly, trying to look casual. "I was just... clearing out some old stuff."

Y/N just nodded, the pain growing inside her chest.

"It's fine. Here, I made this for you." She raised her hand that held the fullest glass, smiling brokenly and keeping her eyes open, taking note on how Matt didn't notice the tears shining in her orbs or pretended not to.

She knew he was lying. She knew he was stuck in the past, that Amanda still dominated his thoughts and his heart. But once again, she chose to ignore it, to stifle her own suffering out of love for him.

Because losing Matt was a fear that outweighed any pain she might feel.

Right?

Right! Until things reached an unbearable point.

Y/N had an appointment at the beauty salon, something she did to feel a little more in control, a little more beautiful in a reality where she always felt insufficient. Matt said he couldn't accompany her, claiming he had videos to film with his brothers. She understood, or at least she tried.

It was Saturday, they didn't film on Saturday.

Sitting in the salon chair, while her nails were being done and her hair was treated, Y/N took out her phone to pass the time, holding the device awkwardly for fear of smudging her sparkling nail polish.

Scrolling through Instagram while her ears caught some conversations around the salon, her heart almost flew out of its place and up her mouth when she saw a photo that one of the celebrity gossip pages had just posted.

Matt was in a coffee shop with Amanda.

His smile was radiant, a kind of joy Y/N hadn't seen on his face in a long time. He looked so… complete, so genuinely happy.

Y/N felt the world come crashing down around her. Tears burned her eyes, but she held them back, looking around at all the other radiant women before turning her attention back to the news, clutching her cell between her left fingers, a low "sorry" scaping her lips when her right hand trembled against the manicurist ones.

She didn't give a shit that they were talking in a cafe, she didn't mind if they wanted to be friends again - even though she had destroyed Matt, and Y/N was the one to put him together again -, it was something else that bothered her.

Matt had lied to her. He said he was going to film. What the fuck was he doing out with Amanda?

But the truth was right there, raw and painful: Matt would never be fully hers. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she sacrificed, he would always be stuck in the past in the love he had for Amanda. He would always go back to her.

Y/N took a deep breath, forcing a smile as the manicurist applied red nail polish to her nails on her left hand. The color perfectly matched the feelings she felt at that moment; dark.

Every move by the salon professionals seemed like a desperate attempt to beautify her for someone who would never see her true beauty. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop her mind from going back to that image of Matt smiling with Amanda. It was a smile she could never get out of him.

"You look amazing, Y/N!" Cintia, the girl's hairdresser for years now, praised excitedly, straightening the last strands of hair just finished and turning the chair so that Y/N could see herself in the mirror. "Matt will love it."

Y/N looked at her reflection, but all she saw was an improved version of herself that, despite all her effort, would never be enough for Matt. She would always be just a shadow, a pale substitute.

"Thank you..." The girl tried to say, but her voice came out hoarse, almost a whisper, fighting to keep the tears at bay.

The room around her seemed like a golden prison, full of mirrors that only reflected her internal pain. Every compliment, every word of encouragement, sounded hollow, meaningless, because the person whose opinion mattered most was, at that very moment, laughing and smiling with another woman; the woman he truly loved.

When Y/N finally left the salon, she felt exhausted, as if she had run an emotional marathon. She walked slowly to her home, opting not to call an Uber.

Her hands fished her phone out of her half-open purse, and, with trembling fingers decorated in red, she sent a text to Diana, her best friend.

"Diana, are you home? Can I sleep there tonight?"

As she waited for the answer, her mind wandered through a whirlwind of thoughts. The pain was constant but mixed with a new resolve.

She needed to get out of there. She needed space to breathe, to think.

"Of course, babes!"

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Getting home was an automatic process. The house she shared with the triplets seemed colder and more hostile than ever.

Y/N walked past the living room where Chris and Nick were sprawled awkwardly on the gray couch playing video games, their excited laughter, and screams a cruel contrast to the pain she felt.

"Y/N!" Nick smiled brightly when he saw his best friend out of the corner of his eye. "Want to play a round with us?"

"No thanks, Nick. I'm tired." She murmured, smiling wide and fake - even though he wasn't looking at her directly -, trying to appear normal.

She walked slowly down the path between the living room and kitchen, each step a reminder of what she was about to do.

Her hands worked automatically on the door, entering her shared room with Matt, closing it behind her, the sound of the lock clicking echoing like a period in her mind. She looked around, taking in the details that made the space a home - the photos on the wall, the personal items, the memories. But now, it all felt empty.

She grabbed a suitcase stored at the back of their shared closet and began filling it with her necessities. The simple act of opening the suitcase caused a wave of despair to hit her.

Every piece of clothing and every object that her hands roughly touched and threw blindly into the suitcase was a small stab in her heart. The tears finally started to stream down her face, and she didn't try to stop them. Reality was imposing itself in a cruel way.

Her movements became slower and slower, while her thoughts became more chaotic.

"I'll never be enough for him."

"I'll never be her."

"He'll never love me the way I love him."

"I'm destroying myself for someone who cares little about me."

"What did I do wrong?"

These thoughts repeated like a cruel mantra in her mind. She felt her breathing quicken. Her lungs seemed unable to take in enough air. The room, which had always been a refuge, now felt like an oppressive cell. Panic began to set in. Her chest felt tight, her hands shook, and the air seemed to escape.

The tears flowed like hot, relentless waterfalls. The suitcase was open in front of her, half full, but it seemed like an insurmountable abyss. Y/N tried to take a deep breath, but each attempt only resulted in more despair.

The sobs came strong and uncontrollable. The girl stopped in front of the bed, standing, after throwing the last piece taken by her hands, bending her upper body over the suitcase, gripping the edge of the thick fabric with such strength that it made her fingers take on a whitish color, fully throwing her weight on her arms as if they were a lifeboat in the middle of a storm.

"Why am I not good enough?"

"What is wrong with me?"

"Why can’t he love me?"

She felt completely alone, drowning in her own pain. The panic attack took over, stealing any trace of control she still had.

The walls of the room seemed to close in on Y/N, the contours of the furniture becoming indistinct and threatening as her breathing became increasingly rapid and shallow. Her heart hammered in her chest with an almost painful force, each beat ringing in her ears like deafening thunder. The air felt thick, sticky, and impossible to inhale properly.

"Am I really that hard to be loved?"

"I wish I was her."

"He was never mine, right?"

Her hands shook uncontrollably, her fingers tingling over her suitcase as a feeling of numbness spread through her arms. Sweat dripped down her forehead, leaving her feeling sticky and uncomfortable, while the cold began to spread throughout her body, generating incessant chills.

Her vision blurred, the edges of the room distorting into restless shadows that danced and pulsed, transforming the room into a place strangely familiar and frighteningly alien at the same time. Each sound seemed amplified and distant, the ones of laughter and the clicks of long and simple kisses played in memories in her head like a record player at its highest volume, creating a surreal echo that only intensified the feeling of isolation and despair.

Exhausted, Y/N let herself sink to the floor, her sobs echoing in the empty room, an expression of the pain and loneliness that she felt suffocating herself relentlessly. Her legs folded in front of her body, the front of her thighs sticking firmly against her stomach as her arms served as a shield for her head, her hands involuntarily going up to her own hair, gripping the strands tightly, trying to ground herself.

Meanwhile, Nick ran towards her and Matt's room with quick, excited steps. He had just finished the last round of his video game with Chris and was looking forward to seeing the outcome of Y/N's salon day, hoping it would make her happier after noticing the inconsistency in her voice when she got home.

His closed fist lightly knocked on the door before opening it, the smile on his face instantly disappearing as his eyes met the scene before him.

Y/N was on the floor, curled up in a fetal position, her hands now grabbing her arms in a desperate hug. Her face was wet with tears, her eyes wide and fixed on a distant, indistinct point. Her breathing was ragged, labored, as if she were trying to pull air through a narrow, clogged straw. The sound of her panting was interspersed with heavy sobs, creating a symphony of anguish that made Nick's heart tighten in his chest.

"Y/N!" Nick called, his voice thick with panic. But to Y/N, his words were like distant whispers, drowned out by the deafening noise of her own frantically beating heart.

Her mind was in a whirlwind of chaotic, disorganized thoughts, each competing for attention and increasing the feeling of panic. She felt trapped in an endless cycle of terror, unable to escape the downward spiral that consumed her.

The feeling of suffocation was overwhelming, as if an invisible weight was pressing down on her chest, making every desperate attempt to breathe difficult. The seconds seemed to stretch into a torturous eternity, each second carrying a new wave of fear and despair.

Nick ran up to her, the panic on his face intensifying by the second. He knelt beside Y/N, trying to find a way to reach her, to bring her back from that abyss of despair. His hands shook as he gently pulled her close, enveloping her in a tight, protective hug.

"I’m here, Y/N, I’m here." He repeated, his voice choked with emotion, praying to whatever was watching them to make her listen to him. But she didn't seem to be able to do it, lost in her own spiral of panic.

Nick closed his eyes for a moment, fighting to stay calm. He knew he needed to be strong for her, and he needed to find a way to calm her.

"Y/N, look at me, please." He pleaded, voice softer, trying to break the invisible barrier that kept her trapped in her own fear. The brunette held her face with his hands, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Breathe with me, okay? Breathe slowly."

He began to breathe deeply, exaggerating his movements so she could follow. He breathed in slowly and deeply through his nose, holding it for a moment before slowly exhaling through his mouth. He felt Y/N tremble in his arms, but he kept pace, trying to convey calmness through each breath.

"That's it, keep going, you can do it." Nick encouraged, feeling a small change in her breathing. Her panting began to synchronize with his, although it was still irregular. He continued to whisper words of comfort, repeating that he was there, that she wasn't alone.

Slowly, very slowly, he felt the stiffness in her body begin to ease. Y/N's breathing became a little steadier, although she was still shaking. Nick kept the hug tight, feeling her heart beat against his own chest. He knew she was still scared, still trapped in her mind, but she was starting to come back.

"You're safe, Y/N. I'm here." Nick said once again, his voice firm and reassuring. He didn't let go of her face, maintaining eye contact, grounding her to reality. "Let's get through this together, okay?"

Finally, after several minutes that felt like hours, Y/N began to breathe in a more controlled manner. Her sobs subsided, and her eyes, once wide with terror, began to focus on Nick's. Her blurred vision cleared a little, the walls of the room seeming less threatening.

Nick sighed in relief, still holding her tightly, feeling the tension gradually ease in her muscles.

His own heart was still beating fast, but now, for a different reason. He looked around, trying to understand the situation better, when his blue orbs stopped on the open suitcase above the bed. The sight of the packed suitcase made his heart sink. Confusion and fear settled in his chest. What was happening? Why was she packing her things? The thought of Y/N leaving caused him his own panic, an intense worry that he tried to suppress, deciding that the questions could wait.

With a conscious effort, he looked away from the suitcase and focused on the immediate task of taking care of Y/N. He stood up slowly, maintaining eye contact to ensure she didn't feel abandoned for even a moment. The boy grabbed the pink bottle of water from the bedside table on her side of the bed and quickly returned, sitting next to her on the cold floor again. The hard ground beneath him was a sharp contrast to the softness of concern he felt for Y/N.

"Here, drink some water." He asked softly, handing Y/N the bottle.

The fragile girl took the bottle with hands that were still shaking but managed to open the cap and take a few small sips, each one firmer than the last. Nick watched her every move, his mind still spinning around the suitcase. The silence in the room was heavy, filled with unspoken words and unasked questions. He waited patiently, without pressing, standing by her side like a pillar of support.

After long seconds of silence, Y/N took a deep breath, her gaze shifting from the bottle to the suitcase on the bed. She knew she needed to explain. Nick deserved to know what was going on, especially after helping her get through that panic attack. She straightened up a little, trying to find the strength to speak.

"Nick..." She began, her voice still trembling. "I... I'm packing because I need to get out of here for a while. I can't stay here any longer, the way things are between me and..." Her voice trailed off into the air before she could mention the name of the boy she loved most in the world.

Nick felt a lump form in his throat, but he remained calm, waiting for her to continue. Y/N took another sip of water before continuing, her words coming out in a halting, painful stream.

"I saw Matt with Amanda today, you know? They were together, and he looked so happy… happier than I've ever seen him with me." Her voice cracked again, but she took a deep breath and continued. "It made me realize that no matter how much I love him, he will never love me the same way. And I can't keep destroying myself like this. So, I'm going to spend the night at Diana's house. I need some time to think, to calm down. Get away from here. Get away from him. And maybe make him miss me... Or finally notice that I'm not what he wants." The last part came out in a broken whisper, her gaze lowering to her crossed legs.

Nick felt a wave of relief upon hearing that she wasn't leaving his life forever, but the worry and sadness over her situation still weighed heavily on him. He wanted to say something, anything to ease her pain, but the words seemed inadequate. Instead, he just nodded, offering silent support.

"And please, Nick, don't tell Matt anything yet." Y/N asked, her eyes pleading. "I need a little time to understand what I'm going to do. He really hurt me, but I can't act on impulse."

Nick held her hand firmly, offering her an expression of understanding and support.

"Of course, Y/N. I won't tell him. I promise." He murmured sincerely. "You can have all the time you need. And I'm here for you, no matter what. I love my little brother, but I won't defend him when he's in the wrong end. You deserve someone who sees you for who you are, Y/N. Someone who loves you completely, without shadows of the past."

They sat there for a few more minutes, sharing that moment of stillness and understanding. The cold of the ground seemed less intense with each other's comforting presence.

Eventually, Y/N stood up, with Nick helping her place her suitcase on the floor. She took one last look at the room she had shared with Matt, pain visible in her eyes but also a growing determination. She knew she needed to step away to heal, to find her own strength again.

"Let's go." Nick's voice woke her from her reverie, his hands picking up her suitcase and walking it to the door. "I'll uber you to Diana's house."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Matt returned home with a beaming smile on his face, his heart still racing with the joy of the friendly encounter he had had. He had spent the afternoon with Amanda, talking and laughing like old times, and the feeling of familiarity and happiness was undeniable.

The boy climbed the stairs of the house with quick steps, eager to see Y/N and share his good mood with her. He wanted to hold her close on their bed, bury his nose in the curve of her neck, and smell her soft and natural perfume as he told her about his day.

But when he opened the bedroom door, a strange feeling of tension in the air made him stop. The environment felt different, as if something had changed, but he couldn't identify what it was. He entered the space, leaving the door open behind him, turning his body and letting his eyes roam the four walls, trying to find what was wrong. Nothing seemed out of place at first glance: the bed was made, his clothes were in the same place, the books were on the shelf, and the computer was on the computer desk. But there was an absence he still couldn't understand.

It was when he opened the closet that reality began to form in his mind. Y/N's side was almost empty. Where her dresses, skirts, and t-shirts once hung, now there were just a few lonely hangers. The empty space where her suitcase sat now felt like a black hole, sucking in all the light and joy he had felt moments before.

Matt felt his heart stop for a second, a feeling of panic starting to take over his chest.

"Y/N? Hey, baby? Are you cleaning out the closet by any chance?" Matt's broken voice sounded through the room in an echo, seeming to escape out the door and travel the entire floor of the house, his blue eyes still fixed on the empty hangers as his mind created the expectation of hearing the sweet, melodious voice back.

But nothing came.

Nick appeared silently in the doorway, watching his younger brother with a serious expression. Matt was so absorbed in his desperate search for answers that he didn't notice Nick's presence until he heard his voice.

"She left."

Matt turned abruptly, his wide, confused eyes meeting Nick's. The older triplet's expression was one of deep sadness, mixed with calm determination. Matt felt a wave of despair rise up inside him, like an overwhelming tide ready to swallow him.

"What do you mean 'she left'?" Matt asked, his voice trembling accompanied by an expression of terror. "Where- Where did she go?"

Nick sighed, taking a step forward, eyes shining with suppressed anger.

"That doesn't matter now. What matters is that you need to decide what you really want, Matt. She saw you with Amanda today, you know?"

Matt felt the ground disappear beneath his feet. He looked around the room again, this time with a clear understanding of what was missing. Y/N, the constant, loving presence in his life, was gone.

"I don't understand..." Matt muttered almost to himself. "I thought we were fine."

"Only you saw this. Seeing you with Amanda was the last straw for her. She loves you, she really does, but she can't keep living like this, Matt, not when she knows that you still have feelings for your ex." Nick scoffed, a disgusted tone echoing with his words, shaking his head and rolling his eyes in suppressed anger. "And you can't continue like this, dividing your attention between Y/N and Amanda. This is destroying Y/N, and you don't even realize it."

"But I... I was just trying to be friends with Amanda again. I don't have feelings for her anymore." Matt spluttered, confusion and guilt beginning to mix in his chest.

"Then why do you keep seeing her?" Nick countered, with no softness in his words. "Y/N loves you, Matt. She loves you so much that she is destroying herself because you don't treat her like you should. She needs you, and you're here, acting like nothing's wrong. And if you continue like this, you will permanently lose the only girl who has truly stuck by your side through thick and thin."

Matt felt a lump tighten in his throat. He tried to speak, but words failed him. The image of Y/N, the woman he loved, suffering in silence because of her insensitivity, was unbearable.

He felt foolish and insensitive. How had he not realized how much Y/N ​​was suffering? All he wanted was to be able to hug her now, tell her that he loved her, and that she was the only person that mattered. But at that moment, he realized how late those words could be.

"I didn't cheat on her, Nick. I really was with Amanda, but I didn't… I didn't do anything wrong." Matt's voice sounded choked, tears beginning to well up in his eyes as anxiety rose through his body like rafters.

"You think you didn't, Matt. But sometimes, it's not about what you do but about how you make the other person feel. And honestly? Giving priority to your ex, the girl who broke you and made you suffer for days on end, over Y/N, who you say you love oh so much, is low blow. Right now, Y/N needs space to breathe to understand her own feelings. And you need to truly analyze what you did and recant with her when she is ready."

Matt walked with shaky steps towards the double bed, sinking onto the edge of the mattress, burying his face in his hands. The weight of guilt and regret was crushing. All he could think about was how he wanted to turn back in time, do things differently, show Y/N that she was the center of his world. Never have lunch with Amanda.

"I need to talk to her." Matt tightened his fingers around the brown strands of her hair, sniffling. "I need to tell her that I'm sorry, that I love her. I really do, Nick."

"I know. But give her a little time, Matt. Forcing a conversation now might make things worse. Let her process everything, and then you can try talking to her." Nick advised, watching him closely before he turned, walking towards the door. "And next time, treat her like the wonderful woman she is, not like a replacement."

Matt nodded slowly, begrudgingly, knowing his brother was right, the despair turning into a silent, constant pain. The room around him, which had once been a haven of love and shared memories, now seemed like an empty, desolate space. The mattress beneath his body, where both of their bodies lay together just the day before, now felt like an icy surface, sending horrible shivers through his body.

His mind betrayed him by making him remember the moments when he had treated Y/N with indifference and neglect, moments that he now saw with painful clarity. Each memory was like a stab to the heart, revealing the depth of his callousness. Y/N's smiles that he had taken for granted, the nights she waited up for him while he lost himself in thoughts of the past, the comparisons...

He could now see the small changes in her expression, the way her eyes sparkled less, how her smile became rarer with each passing day. She was withdrawing, and he was blindly contributing to that withdrawal.

Sitting there, now alone in the room, Matt felt the weight of his own guilt and regret. He realized that he had never made Y/N feel like the most important woman in her life. Instead, he had relegated her to the background, allowing the shadows of his former relationship to contaminate the present. Y/N's love and dedication towards him contrasted painfully with his own indifference.

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @junnniiieee07 @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @soso-scarlettolivia @bitchydragonparadise @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @mattsneezing @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @meg-sturniolo @fratbrochrisgf @elordilover @somegirlfromasgard @hpyjw @annamcdonalds67 @slutsformatt @chrissturnsss @l34n @iammattswife @selenascorner

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

He's my collar

Synopsis: You were saved by your ex-mentor, then Batman saved you from him. Even with your habilities It seems like you will never stop being a damsel in distress. Don't worry though, you are just a puppy who just got adopted by the best caretaker ever. And he knows what you need even better than yourself.

Pairing: Yandere!Batman X Villain turned hero!Gn!AFAB!Reader; Platonic!Batfam

Tw: 18+; Dubcon between Yan!Bruce X Gn!Reader; Reader has a pussy and an uterus; Grooming?!; Reader is inexperienced and a virgin; Reader is a people pleaser; age gap (Reader is 21 and Bruce is on his 40’s); fingering!reader receiving; mentions of sexu4l harr4sment, s3xual 4ssault and pedoph1lia (nothing happens, reader was just afraid of being a victim growing up); Bruce is very touchy and Reader doesn't know how to feel about that; power imbalance; Reader has intense daddy and thrust issues, intrusive thoughts and a rough background; mentions of family loss; fluff, suggestive and angst; manipulation and guilt tripping; platonic!batfamily are happy, Damian loves you and no one knows Bruce is a yandere for you, but they are kinda weirded out by the age gap; English is not my first language.

Word count: 8,5k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: that's how I’m picturing villain!reader suit and that's the vigilant suit. Also It was really hard to find cool names for reader’s villain ex-mentor and reader’s villain and hero persona, but you can imagine whatever suit and name you want

General masterlist

You were 11 when your deadbeat father handed you over to Overkill to appease the criminal’s anger. That day, you lost your birth name and became Onslaught.

When you joined him you were afraid your fate would be to become his sex slave, it wouldn't be absurd to think he wanted to use you like that since the last time you saw your father, when he was on his knees, crying for his life to be spared, he cried an offer that your mentor accepted: my kid! Take my kid! They already bleed! Check their underwear! They're already grown, take them and do whatever you want to them! Don't even have to bring them back, take them with you if you want! They can clean and cook and will do whatever you want, I swear! they will keep quiet! I won't tell anyone!

Tsk. Pathetic old man.

Later he told you he only took you in because cruelty against kids was the only line he refused to cross and hated who committed It. He said you were better off with him If your own father made a strange and violent man an offer of such disgusting nature.

Overkill never touched you the way your father expected. If 99% of the time he didn't treat you like a minion, and 1% as his ward, you could even love him. He definitely was your second (shitty) father figure.

Instead, he did make you cook and clean, but only when you weren't training and studying to be his sidekick. He was a villain-for-hire. Sketchy civilians, crime bosses, supervillains and corrupt politicians would hire you both to do the stealing, killing and terrorizing. When you became his, it meant he could get more jobs while working less and earning more. He got 99% of the money and you would get 1%. Literally. If he was in a good mood, felt you deserved a treat or one of the clients showed a liking to you, he gave you more, never more than his own part though.

It was just one more way to keep the leash of the puppy attached to him. Keep you dependent. He also used psychological methods for that, you knew that now.

When you were a kid, before he became your mentor, like every normal child, you developed an obsession. Some liked dinosaurs. Some liked princesses. Some liked insects. You liked wolves. You used to spend hours imagining yourself being one of them. Running through the woods with a pack that would accept, love and protect you. Your cries for help, the night that your father beat your mom to her grave and was close to doing the same to you, were howls to the moon. Calling for help. Calling for someone. But the only one who could hear your frequency was him.

Your savior. Your keeper. The alpha of your little two member pack.

When you were 21 your whole life changed for the second time. Batman caught Overkill, cut off his claws, put a muzzle on him and left him in Belle Reve.

He was merciful to you though, he was a hero after all, and he investigated your history. He gave you options: 1-Live a civilian and lawful life. 2-Learn his ways and become a vigilant by his side, saving lives and all that shit that made heros panties wet. 3-Keep the lifestyle of a criminal and next time he saw Onslaught in action he would break your legs and put you in a cage right next to your packleader's.

You chose the second option.

And that was how Onslaught was dead and Silverclaw was born.

Batman set you up in one of his safehouses, helped get a new identity and you were to patrol the city with him every night. You thought because you were an adult he would leave you on your own when It came to education and a job, he didn't. He insisted on giving you money until you found a common daytime job.

— Are you doing that to make sure I’m not gonna try to monetize from saving people? — You looked at him suspiciously, searching for a facial reaction that could give him away. None came. Dude was really stoic.

— No.

— You are trying to control me then. — You crossed your arms, being mindful of your new claws.

— I’m trying to help you. — Batman stared at you a lot. If you didn't know better you would think he was a statue in the middle of your new living room from how still he was. You huffed. — You can trust me…

— Can I, really? Can you trust me? — You challenged him, half stepping forward and learning slightly in his direction while touching the bat in his chest with the tip of your claw. He didn't react.

— You will show me.

You chose not to respond and resumed your previous actions of looking around your new home. You pretended to just be touring curiously but the man knew you were searching for cameras or bugs he could use to secretly monitor you. Or just have a peepshow.

— You always do this to the rest of your bats? — He didn't answer. — Maybe not all, I imagine Red Hood wouldn't like it. You don't mind that he is a crime lord right? Or is that the reason you are always fighting?! — He still didn't answer. — Wow, Geez, you never shut up, you know?! Let other people talk. Uh, sorry, I shouldn't be talking like that with my new boss, right?

— I'm not your boss.

— Babysitter then?

— Mentor… Until you can work on your own… — You roll your eyes. So much for admitting he didn't trust you yet. Well, you didn't either.

After three months he changed your suit to have a bat brand on your left shoulder, you were an official member of his team, and gave you access to the batcave. You always saw him, some of the others and his butler coming and going from the elevator, but never tried It, even If he never out loud forbade you from doing it. You noticed they were all very close and didn't feel like you belonged among them, so you didn't need to know where that elevator took you, even If you were often in the cave.

On the 5th month you passed out from an injury after saving Robin. Two-face flipped the coin and his bullet was aiming straight to Robin’s head but he was so small that when you ran in front of him it hit your abdomen. You woke up four hours later in the cave and Batman took his mask off and thanked you for saving his son. That night you found out all of their identities and that the elevator took you to Wayne Manor. Damian, Alfred, Bruce, Tim and Dick (who showed up to thank you as soon as he heard what you prevented from happening with his baby brother) all insisted that you spent the night in one of the guest rooms due to your recent injury.

It took a week of you trying to leave until you managed to. Everyone always found a way to convince you to stay. They were nice and It felt like a warm welcome into their group.

— Damian looks up to you. — Bruce calmly stated after stopping in front of you one day, a month after your recovery was complete and you were out and about at night again. After watching you sparing with Robin for an hour and a half, the opened case was officially forgotten on his ‘batcomputer’ behind him.

— Yeah, I can really feel him putting all his love on his tiny fists when he hits me and leave me bruised and sore for days. — You comment nonchalantly while taking a sip of water and glancing at the kid running towards the elevator. Your mentor snorted.

— He wants you to see him as someone on your level or above. To know that he is reliable and you can call for him when you need help. He did the same with everyone here. Chalenged them, I mean. — You open your mouth to respond but freeze and your arm instintively moves on its own to grip his wrist when he tries to touch your shoulder.

You both stare a each other frozen and in silence for a few seconds before you snap out of it and let go of his wrist.

— My bad.

His hand is still in the air and he slowly retreats It to his side while still analizing you.

— Are you scared of me? — You shake your head hurriedly.

— It was instinct. — You leave It at that.

You both spend a few moments just staring the other down until he clears his throat and step back.

— I’m on a case. You need to work on your detective skills more. Are you free now or are you going to your nest? — You felt deeply grateful for his change of subject and agreed.

You went to grab another seat but his long legs beat you to It, rolled the chair in the direction of the computer and gentlemanly gestured for you to seat down, pushing the chair forward to accommodate you when your tights touched the padding. You raised your eyebrows wearily after the whole interaction but didn't react more than that while he situated himself on his ‘batseat’ beside you.

After a few minutes you unconsciously relaxed your muscles and your conversation went on for hours. You were delightened by how easy It was to talk to him, the first time It didn't feel like an interaction between you that wasn't strictly mentor and apprentice, instead, It felt more like a friend giving you tips and you sucked up on all the knowledge and attention he provided you. He seemed in a good mood and even gave you his signature small smile and praised you a few times when you got something right.

At some point Alfred came down to provide you both with tea and snacks, he seemed to pause for a second while his eyes flew from you to Bruce, who was behind you since you turned around to acknouledge his entrance, covering most of his emotions towards the sight. He semeed kinda… Intrigued. Maybe surprised or awkward. You hacked your brain trying to understand but he turned around and left, Bruce was pushing your cup into your hands before you came to any conclusion.

— You like tea? — He questioned and the contrast between this question and the gory case you were discussing seconds before amused you.

— Uhh, I guess? — You brought the cup closer to your lips, copying his actions as he did the same while looking at you casually. — I like more coffee though, and Overkill was a coffee enthusiast so we drank a lot.— You scrunched your nose at the fleeting memory of your old mentor and the weird reminder that he had a human personality behind his usual strict behavior.

Bruce's eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly for a second before the expression vanished. He never held back when it came to showing contempt towards anyone from his team’s past who was associated with crime.

— Were you close to him? — Suddenly he seemed more serious. You wondered if you were misreading the mood this whole time or were just doing it right now.

— Hmm… Not really… It's complicated… - You took another sip.

— I’m listening. — He seemed sincere. Apparently you were having a break from work.

— He wasn't all bad, I mean, he saved me, but… He still kept me around for all business… — Part of you felt like grieving for some reason. — I guess I ended up seeing him as as father figure, or I wanted to, but… — Bruce held himself not to tense. For the first time since the work talk stopped he took his eyes off of your face and looked at his cup. — He just… He knew how to keep his distance while still keeping me by his side 24/7. — He looked at you again, with a more neutral semblance than before. — At leash until I turned 18. He changed when I turned 18. — Bruce furrowed his eyebrows with concern. It was still odd to know someone cared about you.

— How so?

You cleared your throat. It was the first time you thought about the past since becoming a lonely wolf, or rather, you thought you were a lonely wolf, that changed when you realized you now had friends. Thinking about the past was pointless when you barely had something to be nostalgic about. You only had memories you desperately wanted to forget.

— Well… You know how his only weak spot are kids. When I hit 18, I stopped being a kid for him. I was finally too old to commit mistakes. I think he saw me as a possible threat and wanted to prevent me from becoming one by proving how much power he had over me. He was a boss for me just as much as any goom beneath him.

Bruce nodded thoughtfully. You didn't say more, afraid of delving too much on something you avoided to think about until your darkest nights.

Suddenly you felt your whole body tense when you felt his warm and big hand rest just above your knee and squeeze. You fixed your gaze on his hand but didn't move more than that. It felt strange, you weren't used to gentle touches and maybe there was something more, you Just didn't now what yet. It got worse when he kept his palm there and went further, rolling his thumb in circles around your clothed knee. The thick sweatpants fabric kept the barrier of intimacy up albeit the heat radiating off of him somehow challenged it. How can someone be so warm? You envied people who where always warm like that. You hated feeling cold — one of the reasons why you liked your suit so much.

— I’m sorry about that… — His voice mande your eyes snap to his again, he had a sincere expression. It was off putting and seemed out of character since he was always stoic, at least around you.

You bite your lip in a display of nervousness that escaped your usually well conceived emotions. Your heart beat faster when for a fleeting second he looked at your mouth and just as fast he was fixed on your eyes again. You didn't think the action had any hidden meaning, nor was it intentional, still, you felt the the need to run and hide.

— … Sure… — You moved to cross your legs, silently prompting him to finally take his hand off after lingering for too long. You looked back to the computer, determined to ignore what just happened and reflect on what it meant later. You missed his displeasement.

Bruce never expected himself to feel attracted to you. As he got older, the age range of the people he felt attracted to accompanied his age. He kept to himself and willed it away at first, but you were so… You.

You tried acting cold, kinda like him. But you needed him and strays always caught his attention. Unlike his kids he had a hunch that you wouldn't flourish by being independent and left on your own. You needed a keeper.

At first he felt like a creep every time your body caught his attention or he found himself staring at you for longer than intended. He was hyperaware everytime you two were close, wich usually was when sparring.

Bruce thought that taking you in as his protegee would satiate his need to take care of you and have you close, but after months of paying your bills and mentoring you, he realized his feelings for you were not platonic.

And it seemed like he was not the only one.

He knew the rest of the family noticed his “fleeting” touches that would linger on your shoulder, arms, back and knee. He retracted himself every time you showed clear disfomfort though, but you never outright rejected him.

His theory of his family's knowledge of his interest in you was confirmed one night when Nightwing stopped by to borrow some equipment and witnessed Batman closer than necessary to Silverclaw, while taking too much to inspect — with his eyes and his hands — your gloves that you were wearing and apparently had recently been upgraded.

— Hey, guys! — Dick’s hesitacion towards the scene grew but kept hidden when you both looked up at him surprised. Somehow he caught you both off guard even if the elevator was not that silent. Dick noted that Silverclaw seemed slightly wide-eyed, the only feature in your suit that was left exposed, along with your eyebrows, while Bruce, who wasn't wearing the cow, maintained a neutral expression, like he didn't have anything to hide. You both greeted him when surprise subsided and you took a step back from Bruce, like you just realized your proximity.

— Hmm… I should get going… Gonna meet Red Robin on the docks in a few. — Both men acknowledged your presence again and Dick saw your awkwardness, his parent seemed fine though.

Bruce nodded to you and you suddenly felt like a sidekick who had just gotten permission from Overkill to do something you were supposed to be doing with or without his approval, but needed to make sure your superior thought it to be appropriate for the mission. A soldier reporting to their captain. Like you never actually took a step forward and everything was the same. It made you feel small and hollow. Gave a bad taste to your mouth. It didn't feel good. But you ignored it because it was all in your head.

Before you could move, the oldest hand shot to your waist and squeezed briefly the soft flesh there as best as he could with the armor in the way. You felt your blood freeze and shivered.

— Be careful. We don't know what Killer Croc is doing there. And take care of Red Robin, he only had 10 hours of sleep in the last three days. — You meekly and wordlessly nodded and robotically left on your bike while feeling a pair of eyes scrutinizing your every move.

Dick cleared his throat, finally catching the Dark Knight’s attention for good.

— Dick. Do you need something? — Bruce turned to his work table and started tinkering with what apparently he was doing before you interrupted him earlier.

— I mean, just came to take a spare mask, I think the camera lenses on mine broke. But since I’m already here… — The younger alonged the last word while hopping to his father’s side. — B, can I talk to you about something? Don't be mad. — That made Bruce worried. Dick cringed at his own wording and the older male turned to him and crossed his arms.

— What happened? — Bruce demanded in a Batman’s voice.

— Nothing! Nothing. Sorry, my bad. What I meant was… Are you sure that's what you want? — At his dad’s confused furrowed eyebrows the hero explained. — (Y/N). I mean… They’re quite young, you know?! It's a lot of responsibility... I don't think they've ever dated anyone, even if they're between Jason and Tim’s age and Tim’s a whore… Too much of a slut for his own age, actually- Not the point. It's just, everyone noticed and have been commenting about it, but I don't think they noticed already. — Nightwing leaves it at that, hoping that his father understands what he was trying to say, desperately trying not to have to explain more and feel like he is teaching his own father the ‘puberty will make your body change’ and the ‘birds and bees’ talk, or ‘bats and wolves’ talk, in this case.

Bruce blinked.

— Are you trying to give me the sex talk? — And there goes all his hard work. — And stop swearing. — Dick groans and runs his hand through his face.

— Nooo, why do you make everything so difficult? It’s just… First of all, we thrust you okay? It just feels weird when you start flirting with them, especially for the ones that live here. I mean, me and Jason still have nightmares and get the creeps when we remember the time when you used to date Selina. And Damian almost pukes every time Talia tries to rizz you up again. — Dick is careful to dance around the subject of your more than two decades age gap. — And, like I said, I don't think (Y/N) has much experience either. Maybe they don’t know what you're doing. Just… Go slow, okay?!

Bruce holds a huff for the sake of being stoic.

He already envisioned the possibility of you having none or little experience before, and you haven't done anything that told him otherwise yet. Deep down he is kinda… Turned on knowing he could be your first everything. Teach you just how he likes. Be the only one to ever know what you like. He's also happy that, by the way his son said it, it looks like everyone thinks you are both closer than you really are. More intimate, romantic. He and you are the only ones who know that you never had a conversation about the change in your dynamic, limits, future and general status. He thinks you are conflicted, and this conversation only encouraged him to either lay down the cards for you or catch you off guard and put you against the wall. Metaphorically.

And maybe literally.

He's also not going to think too deep in the warm feeling he feels when thinking about corrupting an innocent puppy who isn't even aware of his intentions.

A sheep in wolf's clothing.

— I know all about that, Dick. Don't worry, I'm being mindful of their timing.

— You should move to the manor.

Bruce's blurted out sentence caught you so off guard you choked on your rich people's food. You knew he was simmering something in his mind the whole morning.

He recently got you to work as his assistant in Wayne Enterprises. You felt he either pitied you for having been forced to drop school when you were 11 you couldn't find many options that allowed you to live a comfortable life — in the standards of an old money billionaire at least —, and your lack of education wasn't a problem to be solved fast. You just didn't know he wanted a solid excuse to be your sole provider forever and wanted you close to him all the time.

He also liked how you looked in formal attire. Developed a fantasy of bending you over the table and taking you from behind. Making you suck him off under the table. Then get on his knees and reciprocate the favor. Became obsessed with the sight of the first buttons of your shirt open, exposing your neck and collarbone. Was hooked on how it made your chest look. Was bent on making you lean forward to give him a flash of what's under your shirt.

He was never this perverted for anyone his whole life. You must be special.

The Wayne was unbothered with your choking while people on the other tables glanced your way, he simply chose to pat you on the back — and not take his hand off when you felt better, you still didn't know how to feel about the touchy nature he adopted when with you. He never hurt you, but was it really… Appropriate?

He is your mentor. He is a lot older. Your inner child cried for him to take you in as one more of his children, heal your daddy issues.

Another part of you, on the other hand, thought of you to be too old for him to simply claim you as his child — he took in his children who were close to your age when they were kids —. That part also told you you were undeserving of love, that everyone just wanted to take advantage of you, and that authority figures should shove it up their asses.

Your intrusive thoughts remarked that if he really wanted you sexually — obviously romantically was not an option. All you are is an object. —, well, he is very attractive. And even If you decide that you don't want him that way… You should just take It. He is above you. It's just how hierarchy works. He protects you. He takes care of you. You should be grateful and stay on his good side.

You internally shake your head. No. That's not how it works.

You took a sip of water.

— What are you talking about? Why? — You look at him, trying to understands where this is coming from. Sure, living alone was kinda lonely, but freeing, you didn't feel like you needed to seek anyone's approval or permission when you were alone. Besides, you were barely on your nest now that he got you this job anyway. And Damian seemed to like running off and sleeping in your place when he and Bruce were having their disaccords.

— Well, for one, it would give me peace of mind, it's safer with us. It would also make It easier for you, you wouldn't have to drive home alone at 3 a.m after patrols. — You raised an eyebrow at his current list of reasons. The 1st might be right. But the 2nd was like saying you were a civilian walking home after your shift at your civilian job. Not a vigilant, ex-criminal with 10 years of experience in hand-to-hand combat, maneuvering of weapons, who rides a motorcycle to a toptech safehouse while carrying a bat-utility belt and stainless steel claws. You kept your mouth shut when he seemed to have more reasons. — Damian would love to have you closer, the others too, but you know you are his second favorite. — Your heart felt warm at that. After learning the reason for the puppy’s bites, you couldn't help but see a bit of yourself in him, since you had similar backgrounds. You tried to subtly give him a safe space so he wouldn't turn out to be like you. You didn't want that for anyone. Especially a kid. — And also… I want you closer.

You took a deep breath while nodding slowly and trying not to react. Looks like it's time to acknowledge the elephant in the room. Suddenly his hand on your back felt heavier and burning hot.

— Why? — Your tone and steely expression made it clear you demanded a clear and honest answer from him. One he didn't hesitate to give you.

Faking a confused expression, he tilted his head slightly to the side.

— What do you mean why? I want you (Y/N). — Your blood froze. — I think it's been very clear that I’m in love with you. — You felt like you received a punch to the gut. — I… Thought you felt the same… — No, he didn't.

You didn't know what to say.

Bruce slowly retracted his hand away from you, but you stopped him midair by grabbing it. He knew it was time to take the next step.

You didn't even know why you did that. Do you feel the same for him?

— I… I… — Your mouth was opening and closing like a fish. He nodded understandably.

— It’s okay. You need time to think. My offer still stands. Even if you don't feel the same… I Just care about you above anything, okay? — You reluctantly nodded, staring at him almost dumbfounded. He smiled lightly to show he was still in good spirits.

After a moment of pondering he bit his lower lip, took his hand closer to your face and caressed your cheek, eyes stuck on his face, mesmerized. You were surprised someone as generous and rightful as him could look at you like that. Admirating you like you weren't tainted.

He even gave you a choice! And told you he cared about you! No matter if you feel the same!

He would certainly be a good man to love.

— Say ‘thank you’ to (Y/N), Damian.

— TT. Thank you, (L/N). — The little green-eyed puppy was looking from you to his present repeatedly. Months prior, when Batman first took you in, before you even had the bat insignia on your shoulder, you caught Robin sitting on a roof reading Death Note on his phone. You didn't know what it was and he pretended to be annoyed with your interruption while explaining it. Now, he is completing 14 and you bought him the whole set of volumes. You wanted him to know that you paid attention and cared about him. You wished someone did that when you were his age. Overkill didn't want to hear about wolves or about the cool new things you were seeing for the first time on your trips together.

You smiled.

— You’re welcome, pups. — Damian let out a ‘TT’ again and turned around to run to his friend Jon. You could almost see their wagging tails while they excitedly talked about his present. Bruce's hand running in circles in the small of your back snapped you out of it and you straightened your posture from the bent position you took to talk to the little one.

It was two weeks prior that he asked you to live with them. You accepted and moved a week ago. It was slightly disappointing to know you wouldn't gain a father out of him, but a least his confession made it easier to understand your feelings. You haven’t outright told him that you wanted him like a man, you were testing things out. In the end, you were both adults and at some point you had to learn to thrust someone. When looking at Damian you knew you didn't want your whole life to be defined by the abuses of two men. And when you agreed to his offer he seemed to see it as a consent to up his seduction.

His touch was still strange. You learned to like the feel of it, and you were getting used to it, soon It wouldn't be so foreign. You just started realizing how touchstarved you were and were just starting to crave it. Initiating it was still a distant concept, though, you had a — strongly equivocate — hunch that he wouldn't like it, that you would do something wrong in the simplest attempt of hugging him, holding his hand or touching his arm, that your touch wouldn't feel as delicate and tingly as his was, and you would make a fool of yourself. At least when you patted Ace, Titus, Alfred the cat and Batcow they seemed happy.

The others seemed to take well to seeing your interaction together — you didn't know they already knew where this was going way before yourself —. Sure, Jason called him a cradle robber but the ex-Robin always found an excuse to offend him. Everyone laughed at his comment, Dick and Alfred lightly reprimanded him (the former way more amused the latter). Bruce didn't react. You felt rotten. And when Jason later said something like “now Bruce, go play with your puppy and let us handle things” during a briefing, you knew it wasn't an offense — at least, not towards you. Plus, he called you a puppy before to tease you even if you were a year younger than him. — but it stuck in your head and you took the first opportunity to escape Batman’s hand on your tight and lock yourself in a bathroom to take a breath.

— I will transfer the money to your account. — Your head snapped towards Bruce and you exclaimed a genuine and loud ‘What?’, but everyone around you was also being way too loud for anyone to pay attention to you. Bruce hummed. — The set. It must’ve been expensive, I will give you the money back. — You shook your head.

— No, Bruce, It was a present. — Just the idea of it was absurd. What an odd man.

— Well, not to me, right?! So I can do It. — You scoffed at his logic. — Actually you could have told me before you were buying it and I would have given you my card. — He blinked. — That reminds me… — He took your hand and gently guided you out of the living room where the party was situated. No one batted an eye.

Damian had scoffed at the childish idea of a birthday party, but you could see right through him better than anyone.

You looked around confused as he guided you through the corridors and then up the stairs. The loud voices getting distant made the rest of the mansion feel eerily empty.

— Where are we going? — He glanced back at you and then ahead again, before briefly squeezing your hand.

— To my study. I have something for you there.

His response didn't satisfy all your curiosity but you knew he wouldn't give you more than that.

When you got there he opened the door for you and encouraged you to enter first with a hand on your lower back, then he shut the door closed and guided you to stand in front of his table. He walked around, opened a cabinet, took ou an envelope and came back to your side. The older male extended the envelope at you, who took it with suspicion after a moment of hesitation.

You forced yourself to not look up while you analyzed the envelope and opened it, ignoring both of his warm and gigantic hands that he positioned on your waist and squeezed — he liked squeezing you a lot, you noticed. — while he lightly reclined himself to sit on top of the table, in front of you, most of his weight being distributed to his long and meaty legs that were also on each side of you. He even pulled you closer and even if there was still space between your bodies, you were close enough to feel his heat.

You looked at the content inside the paper and froze. Such reaction could have come either from the sight of a black card with your name on it or because he chose that moment to sneak his hands under your shirt and caress your bare waist slowly with his calloused fingertips.

— No. — You slapped the card and paper against his chest. The bastard didn't react.

— Yes.

— No!

— Yes.

— I can't take it! — You kicked the ground stubbornly. He still didn't move, stubbornly.

— Why not? — You raised both eyebrows.

— Bruce, are you kidding me? That thing is limitless.

— Your point being? — You blinked several times.

— Wow… I knew you were one of those rich eccentric guys, but putting on a batsuit… — You refused to call it a costume and imply that you also wore a costume and were technically a furry. You learned that word from Tim. — … And beating up criminals is one thing. Going around distributing limitless cards to all your friends is simply insane! — One side of his mouth tilted up in what you quietly admitted was a sexy smark.

— Actually if I wanted to do that I could. But you are not a friend. You are part of the family. And my girlfriend. — And mine. His tongue craved to utter.

That easily silenced you. You didn't know how to react to that. You hacked your brain for any moment were you told him something in that connotation. You didn't find it. But well, couldn't blame the guy, he did told you he wanted you and you didn't stop his moves.

You cleared your throat, trying to hide your shock. He didn't seem surprised by your reaction.

It was another thing that being with them changed in you. You don't control your emotions 24/7 anymore, only when you are out and about as Silverclaw. In the past it was second nature, but feeling happiness was so new to you that you weren't used to trying to hide it yet. Nor wanted to. And you slowly gave yourself permission to be free and express most of what you felt. Not everything, you were still surrounded by a very odd-cryptic-strategizing-hyperanalyser-micro-expressions-reader-and-weird-with-emotions group of people. But you felt no one was really going to judge you if you chose to be free.

— I-I… Yeah… Yeah, okay. You are right. — You meekly accepted his statement. If he said it was true, then it was true. You would follow his lead. You are way too loyal and he knows that. You both wondered what was your limit. You were afraid of what would happen when that limit came. Would you just keep going just to make him happy? He hoped you did.

Actually, he might test some of those limits right now.

He carefully took the card and envelope from your hand and set it on the table behind him, you just rested your palms against his chest. Baby steps for you. Bruce wished that baby was a speedster.

You stuttered when he brought you closer, leaned forward and started tracing a random path of kisses on the skin of your neck. You allowed his sucking and laping of your skin for a few minutes and even tried running your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. His hands started roaming.

When his right squeezed the left cheek of your ass though, you gave a slight jump. It felt very sudden and activated your fight or flight instinct.

— W-We should go back downstairs. — You blurted out. Bruce just hummed in response, the vibration tickling your neck and ear. Aside from that he didn't stop his ministrations and that made you feel worse. Maybe you were the problem? Were you not clear enough? Shouldn't you endure more? For you? For him? He was used to people going a lot further with him, and here you were, trying to force him to stop just when he tried to spice things up with you. For fuck’s sake, you haven't even kissed him yet!

You bit your lip and willed your muscles to relax. Maybe all you need to do is endure a little bit more and you will get used to it. Until now that seemed to be the pattern.

Ignoring your pounding heart, you closed your eyes and just tried to enjoy it. You thought it was working until suddenly he stopped, and before you could open your eyes, stole a kiss from you.

It didn't grow to more than a half-second peck because your instincts to run took over your body and you jumped away from him, your hands extended in front of your body like you were dealing with a wild animal.

You just stared at each other with almost wide eyes for a few seconds, before the older male sighed, looked down and pressed the bridge of his nose with his pointer and thumb. Oh no. He wasn't happy. You shouldn't have done that. You fucked up.

— I’m sorry. — Bruce looked stressed when he rubbed his hand around his face, then brought it up to push his perfectly styled hair back. You shook your head like a scared kid. He finally looked up at you. — I’m sorry. I shouldn't have done that.

— No, no, it’s okay, I… Liked it. — You almost whispered in a meek voice. — Was just surprised. — Bruce nodded. He was unhappy with himself that he got carried away and almost fucked things up with you. But his infatuation made him lose train of thought sometimes. Yes. He wants to do bad things to you, corrupt you, desperately. But he doesn't want you trying to run away from him just yet, if ever.

You slowly made your way towards him again, your arms around your body, trying to bring yourself comfort. You wanted him to hug you and comfort you the same way, but you didn't know if he would do that, and if he did touch you again, would it really make you feel better?

It felt wrong. You just now had asked for him to stop completely, or at least give you a break, and he blatantly ignored it. Made you feel invisible, insignifcant, desperate enough to run. And here you were, seeking for a signal that he wouldn't give up on you just yet.

— Did… Did you know I never had a birthday party? — You forced yourself not to vacillate and put your hands on his shoulders.

— Hmm? — He gazed at you curiously but didn't touch you yet. It made you feel anxious and you forced yourself to take another step closer. Now you were just as close as you were before.

— I never had a birthday party. And last time I was invited to one I was 10. I didn't get to go though, it was my best friend's party, but my father was in a bad mood, so my mom said it was better not to do anything that could set him off. So I stayed home. — You felt his fingertips caressing tracing both of your tights carefully, it could almost be an unconscious move by how intensely concentrated he seemed with your story. — Next day, at school, everyone was talking about how fun, cool and amazing it was. I felt jealous and said I would have the best birthday party ever when I hit 11. I didn't. And no one remembered my promise. — He nodded slowly, his eyebrows furrowed with what was probably sympathy at you and anger at you father. At least that's how you felt. Sad for the younger you and hatred towards your father. — If you could… — You elongated your sentence, trying to hint your request for him, and he cut you off just like you wanted, expressing what was on his mind.

— What's your favorite cake flavor?

The gala ended just about an hour ago but you were both already in bed. Domesticity came easy when living together and even when you had your own room — much to his dismay. — Bruce quickly worked on getting you used to him enough to lay down beside him. And right now he was very grateful that you didn't have socials or else his plans for the night would’ve been interrupted by your discomfort about being called ‘Bruce Wayne’s controversially young new sweetheart’ and comments about his playboy mask.

He was getting impatient but Bruce knew that all good things come slowly, he took the night off to focus only on his goal.

You were laid down on your bed, in your own room and he was beside you, facing you, while you both talked, held hands and occasionally exchanged chaste kisses. It was cute, and innocent, but his balls had been blue since the party three weeks ago.

It was fine when his right hand let go of your left, his arm being thrown around your waist to accommodate the position, and placed on your middle. He kept running his hand around your upper body slowly and you swayed closer to him. At this point the only sounds in the room came from kisses and the friction of skin against fabric.

When Bruce angled himself and pushed in your direction until he was on top of you, It was still okay. What made you startled and nervous was when he pressed his hips down and you felt his hard cock against your thigh — the back of your mind screamed about how big he was and how it wouldn't fit when the time comes.

— Hmm… Bruce? — You felt a little antsy, but you thought he would understand what you were trying to say. Didn't seem like the case, since he kept kissing you to silence you. You felt suffocated and that prompted you to push his chest weekly. Maybe you needed to give a clearer signal.

Bruce stared at you from above for a second before closing his eyes and sighing.

His reaction shocked you and you didn't move when he got off and plopped down beside you again, this time putting more distance between your bodies and facing the ceiling. He draped his arm over his face and took a deep breath.

You sheepishly tilted to your side and went closer to him, his possible annoyance towards you made you more reluctant to touch him, but you did it anyway, trying to appease him.

— Bruce…

— What is it? — He finally looked at you. He was not happy. — You don't trust me yet? — His furrowed brows, grave voice and held back tone intimidated you slightly, it just caused more worry.

— N-No, it's not that… — Bruce thought it was better to turn down a notch on his acting if he wanted to have his way with you tonight.

He nodded, relaxed his muscles and turned his body in your direction again. He draped his arm around your waist and started trailing slow kisses down your neck to calm you down.

— I know. I know, puppy. — He uttered carefully and nodded reassuringly. — It's not your fault. I'm just a little… Frustrated, is all. — Your brows cinched.

— Frustrated with… Me? — Your heart ached at the thought. It was hard hearing him, and just as hard saying it out loud. Bruce shook his head.

— I just don't understand. I’ve been taking care of you for so long, been waiting for you, doing so much for you. But it's like you are still guarding yourself from me… I love you, pup, you are everything to me and I desire you. Wanna make you feel good. But, sometimes, you make me feel like… Like you don't feel the same… — You heart fell and you felt an urge to fix your mistakes.

— But I-I do! I just… — A sigh and then a deep breath. — … How can I do better? — You said meekly.

Bruce held back a smirk, you were smart even if insecure, and preening would give off his lewd plotting.

The dark knight pretended to contemplate for a brief moment as if he didn't plan every step beforehand.

— … We don't have to go all the way now, you could just… You could let me finger you? — Half of you felt relieved, the other, the one that just wanted to keep him happy, felt nervous but determined.

Your inexperienced and people pleaser mind couldn't comprehend how him doing things to you could also be considered him taking advantage of you. That was one of your biggest nightmares and paranoia. Growing up you were always afraid that your ex-mentor would assault you, or allow one of his employers and colleagues to hurt you just because they asked or paid for some fun with the young pretty thing. Especially after you weren't underage anymore, since he only seemed to have a soft spot for them. It somehow, thankfully, never happened, only impure comments were made and he cut them off every time until you were 18, after that you were left on your own and if you didn't do anything he saw it as you wanting it to happen since he trained you more than enough to protect yourself and show authority with others that were not him.

If Bruce wanted to pleasure you and not himself… Then he was really selfless and only wanted to help you with your little problem. He's been taking such good care of you for so long, there’s no reason to believe he won't do the same now.

So you nodded, shaken.

You let him maneuver you how he wanted and ended up the same way your making out session started, you on your back and the older man facing your direction. You watched closely and willing your heart to stop pounding as he undressed your legs and hips from your pants and underwear. It was awkward feeling so exposed, especially when he sneaked his arm between your legs and started fondling your dry center.

— Relax… Deep breaths… Just close your eyes and enjoy it… — His grave and husky voice whispers in your ear before teeth start nibbling on it, your whole body shivered and you did as he instructed, not sure if it was working until his friction felt less burning and waves of pleasure started rolling through you. You were right, he always wanted what's good for you, you reassured yourself and felt a little comforted, even if your heart was still pounding.

You let out a surprised gasp and your eyes shot open when you heard a loud wet squelch, the first thing you saw thing you saw were the movements of his wrist, the second, his face, eyes dead set on observing you, and he chuckled at your reaction.

— See? No reason to worry… — And worry you did not. You knew this short period of nervousness and those guilty feelings you were experiencing would be worth it in the future. And Bruce knew the risks he took and manipulation were proving their value right now.

He changes his up and down movements to circles and you let out a sound that you never heard coming out of your own mouth. Your eyes fluttered close automatically and your hand shot to grip his shirt with an unconscious amount of force.

— I-I like this better… — Bruce hummed and resumed working his mouth from your ear, to neck and collarbone.

His hand moves were slow and deliberate, but stable. The older man angles his body in an upper position so he could easily use his left hand to pull your shirt up slowly until your chest and pouting nipples were exposed. Lost in arousal and pleasure and thrusting he knew what he was doing you didn't bat an eye towards his actions.

You moaned louder when you felt his soft chapped lips close around your nipple and wet warm tongue playing with the sensitive bud. Bruce felt your lower lips getting wetter and used that to his advantage to intrude the squelching hole between your legs with his fingers curved upwards, his thumb expertly still running circles around your clit.

You gasped and both your hands shot to grab the bed comforter under you. It was the first time someone touched you like that and it was a while since you played with your bud yourself, so before you knew it, your pussy was squeezing and milking his fingers in the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had and this time the man couldn’t stop his grin from taking over his face.

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

DC Taglist:

@wandalfnation

[lionneee]

Little Princess

English is not my first language, please be kind

Masterlist

Taglist

•Warnings: fingerng, masturbation, taking of sexual themes, smut, age difference.•

Previous part <- Current part -> Next part

Modern!Father’s!Best!Friend!Aemond x Fem!Reader

“I trusted you! I trusted you!” Criston shouted as Aemond walked out of the room, his pants back on.

“Criston, calm down…” Aemond sighed as he followed him downstairs.

“You don’t get to talk to me!” He shouted. “You fucked my daughter. In my house! Under my roof!” He kept yelling.

“Not always.” He said without thinking, matter of factly. He saw him fuming.

Maybe he should have shut up.

“Dad…” He saw her getting out of her room as well, dressed back up.

“GO BACK IN YOUR ROOM!” He shouted at her. He saw her gasp and step back, biting her lip and going back to her room.

Always daddy’s girl.

He looked back at Criston, his face calm and relaxed as Cristian’s was red.

“Get. out.” He hissed at him, pointing at the door. “I don’t want to see you ever again.”

“You’re overreacting, Criston, I -“ He stopped as soon as his friend’s fist made contact with his cheek. He grunted for the pain and looked back at him.

“I care for her, Criston.” He looked back at his friend. “You know I do.” Criston laughed bitterly at his words.

“You care for her in a sick, wrong way. You’ve seen her grow up.” He spat. Aemond sighed.

“Yes, and I’ve seen her grow into the beautiful woman she is n-“ This time, he grabbed Criston’s wrist before he could punch him again. “Stop it.” He growled as he looked at him with a hard glare.

“The audacity of yours!” He yelled as he tugged his hand back, freeing himself from his grip. “How dare you talk about my daughter like that?! How could you touch her like that?!” He kept shouting. “Get out of my house! GET OUT!” Criston’s voice only kept raising and Aemond knew there was no point in trying to reason with him, so he just walked to the door, taking a cigarette from his pack in his pocket and lit it once outside.

Your father barely even looked at you. You even cried in front of him, trying to babble some words, trying to explain. But it was like he couldn’t even hear you. 

You felt a disappointment.

You hated being like this with your father. It rarely happened, you two usually never fought, and even if you did, the moment you started sobbing he immediately reassured you, and everything went back to normal.

And even if the first two weeks passed by feeling sorry for your actions, slowly, you started to feel angry, resentful, because he was the reason you felt so empty again.

He always checked your position on your phone when you went to school, and he didn’t let you go out with your friends, not even in the library.

I care for her, Criston.

You heard those words as you pressed your ear to the door the day your father saw you.

He cared for you.

But in what way?

You loved him.

You’ve loved him ever since you could remember.

“Daddy? Is Aemond coming today?” You looked at your father as you hugged his calves. 

“Yes, he could never miss your tea party, could he?” Your father chuckled. Just as you fixed your dolls on the little chairs, you heard the doorbell. You screamed happily and started running to the door as your father opened it.

“Aemond!” You laughed as you ran with your arms open. Aemond smiled and bent down to pick you up in his arms.

“Hey, princess, is my tea ready?” He looked at you as you started playing with his long hair, nodding happily as you tugged at them.

Your first period. On. Your. Birthday.

You groaned as you covered your face with your hands, pressing your face on the mattress to muffle the scream of frustration. You didn’t like the dress you had to wear, you didn’t like your hair, you didn’t like your make of, now ruined by tears, you didn’t like anything.

And you felt guilty for not liking everything, knowing the effort your father put on your 16th birthday party.

It was a silly dinner, just family, then on the weekend you would have a big party with your friends.

You wanted to be swallowed by your bed and never be seen again.

“What’s going on, princess?” You groaned again as you heard your voice. You didn’t want him to see you like this. You didn’t want anyone to see you like this.

“Nothing.” You mumbled against the mattress. Aemond sighed and you felt the mattress crack as he sat beside you. He caressed the back of your head.

“Come on, let me see your face.” He talked softly as he put a hand on your shoulder, pulling you up. You poured as you sat up and looked at him.

“I look ugly. And the dress doesn’t fit me well.”

“Nonsense.” He said as he moved a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“There’s nothing good now! My hair looks terrible, my makeup, me!” You whined as you felt the tears coming back.

“Oh, princess. Don’t talk about you that way. I can fix your hair and you can do your make up again. And that dress is beautiful. You are beautiful, princess.” He smiled as he pulled you up on your feet. “Come on, sit on the vanity. You’ll do your makeup as I fix your hair.” He gently started to work on your hair, braiding them beautifully. You did your makeup again, and you had to admit, it looked pretty good.

“You are beautiful, princess.” He repeated. That was the first time you felt your heart beat so loudly.

Aemond was always there. Always in your life, always helping you even when you were at your worst. Him and your father.

It was your fault if everything went wrong.

“I’m going out for dinner. You stay here, got it?” Your father told you as he stood outside your room. You looked at him and nodded.

“Good.” He walked away, and he didn’t even say goodbye. He just walked out, slamming the door shut. 

“I’m going out for dinner, but Aemond will stay with you, okay kid?” Your father smiled at you as he kissed your forehead. 

“It’s okay, dad. Have a good dinner. He smiled warmly as he nodded at Aemond and walked out.

“So what do you want to do, princess?”

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Sure. You can pick.”

Horror or thriller were usually your first pick. They rarely scared you, but you liked the plots. You sighed as you leaned your head on Aemond’s shoulder. You were wearing an oversized shirt and some shirts.

“Bored, princess?” Aemond asked you amused. 

“No, no…” You smiled as Aemond rested his hand on the back of the couch.

“Do you mind?” You asked as you pointed his thighs, wanting to throw your legs over his for a more comfortable position.

“No…. go on.” He said as he shifted on the couch. You looked at him for a moment then you went on to move your legs over his.

“Comfortable enough?” He smiled. You nodded happily. You phone buzzed on the couch and you picked it up to see a message from you… now boyfriend. You pressed your lips together as you looked at it.

«Want to come over tomorrow?»

You had been together for a week, and you still felt uncomfortable when you two kissed. The idea to do more at his house made you even more uncomfortable.

“What is it?” Aemond glanced at your phone, seeing the message his eye hardened.

“Nothing.” You quickly turned off your phone and looked back at the tv.

“Princess.” Aemond sighed. “You’re smart, So don’t do anything stupid, okay? No boy is worth it.” He said as he looked back at the tv too. You nodded, but you didn’t try to continue the conversation.

But… maybe you could ask him?

“Aemond.” You raised your head as you looked at him. she turned his head to look at you, silently encouraging you to keep talking. “How… Did you…” You sighed. “Is it normal to feel uncomfortable? With… couple things.” You bit your lip as you saw his eye widening and hardening.

“Well, it depends, princess.” He started. “What did you do?” You blushed a bit as you started playing with your shirt and looked down.

“We just… kissed.” You said blushing. Aemond sighed and put his hand on your thigh.

“Do you like this boy?”

“He’s fine… He’s cute. He gives me attention.”

“But do you like him?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, then it should be… yeah, embarrassing the first times, like the first days? But then it should be about passion, you know?” He smiled slightly. “About… wanting to be with that person all the time, kiss them all the time.” He leaned his head down, trying to catch a glimpse of your eyes.

It wasn’t like that for you. It was embarrassing and… even stressful. You kept thinking about trying to be perfect with him.

"So... not stressful or embarrassing? After a week?"

"No... no, princess. It shouldn't be that way. It should be about feeling more comfortable with someone... about letting go. You know?

When you like someone, you shouldn't feel that way." Aemond said gently as he gently stroked your thigh with his thumb.

"So how should it feel?" You looked up at him, your cheeks red, but there was curiosity in your eyes.

"It should be... warm and fuzzy, you know?" He smiled. "It should make your heart beat faster every time you see him. You should feel comfortable, even when you're doing something new." He sighed. "You don't feel any of this, princess?"

"I feel agitated. Like for a test, and so have to be perfect."

Aemond chuckled slightly and leaned his shoulder against the couch. "Princess, you don't have to be perfect when it comes to this stuff, you just... let go and enjoy yourself."

"But... how do I let go?"

"It's simple, princess." Aemond smiled as he moved his hand from your thigh to your cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb.

"You trust them enough to let go. You trust them enough to know they won't judge you and that they will like you all the same, or more."

"And... there has to be passion?"

"Of course. It's a connection that comes from both, you and the person you're doing this with." He looked in your eyes, his face closer to yours now. "You can feel the desire, the need to be touch, to be close to each other..."

"A connection... desire..." You repeated as you nodded

"You should feel the want to feel their body with your body..." His tone went a bit huskier as he got closer to you. "To get to know them entirely. On every level... body, mind, thoughts... everything."

"To be with them, all the time?"

"All the time." He slowly moved closer until he was hovering over you. "To want them as much as you need air to breathe."

"To can't wait to see them..." You looked at him in the eye

"To lose interest in everything else when they're not near." He looked at your lips then to your eyes. "To crave them constantly. To need your lips on their skin, their lips on yours... skin on skin."

"To... kiss them all the time..." I whisper

"Yes... To want to taste their lips, to feel their hands on your hips... their tongue on your skin." He lowered his head towards you. "to want... to be as close to them as possible."

"To live in a bubble with them, and them alo-

"You stopped yourself and breathed in deeply as you felt Aemond's forehead against yours, his breath brushing your face as your lips mere inches apart.

"Mmm... just them. Always them." He whispered as he gently slid his hand to your hip, gently squeezing it. "There's no one else, princess. Just you and that person. No one to judge, no one to worry about." It was clear he wasn't talking about your boyfriend.

"I want to feel it." You bit your lower lip, looking at him with pleading eyes.

You really did, you wanted to know what it meant to really like someone. You felt at ease with Aemond. You were always happy to see him, and could barely wait when he came to your house. You loved spending time with him, you never felt judged, only understanded and cared for.

Aemond passed his thumb over your lips.

“Oh, princess…” He whispered as his own breathing got heavier. “You know I can’t make you feel like that.” You cried out at his words and grabbed his shirt with both your hands, leaning closer, your eyes shut.

“Please.” You whined. “I want to know what it feels like. I think you make me feel like that…” You didn’t know if to feel offended by Aemond's chuckle.

“You’ll find the right one, princess. But that’s not me.” He pulled away and leaned back on the couch, passing his hand through his hair. You looked at him, disappointed.

“You’ll see.” He added as he looked away from you.

Did he ever even like you? Other than for a fuck. You believed he cared for you, but you weren’t sure he felt more than that. What you felt was deeper. 

You crawled in bed and curled up, hiding under the blankets.

Did you ruin everything only for some sex?

You sobbed as you pressed your pillow on your face.

You destroyed a friendship.

You hurt your father.

You sobbed louder.

Your father. The one who took care of you every moment of his life, loved you, trusted you.

Just for some good sex.

Because that’s what you were for Aemond?

He cared for you.

Well, you loved him, and that was eating you inside.

The feeling of his hands on your skin, making you burn for him. The way he kissed you like he owned you. The way he filled you like he couldn’t be apart from you.

You tightened your hand on the pillow as you slowly moved your other hand under your shorts, under your underwear.

You slowly brushed your fingers over your clit.

“Let’s see how I can make you squirm.” He smiled as he looked down at you.

You started rubbing your pearl a bit faster, avoiding your entrance to not feel the disappointment of the thinnest of your fingers. 

“How many times you think I’ll make you come like this today, uh princess?” He grinned as he looked at you squirming and crying out as he pumped his fingers inside you ferociously, making it impossible for you to be still. “Three? Maybe four. Or seven. Ten?” He chuckled as you cried loudly.

You tried to muffle a moan in the pillow as you started breathing heavily, your hips jerking on your fingers. You started rubbing on your clit faster, pressing slightly more, just like he did.

But it didn’t feel the same. 

You groaned in annoyance as you tried to focus on your pleasure, not in the lack of his touch.

“What is it, princess, can’t even make you come on your own?” You could hear his chuckle. “You miss me that much?” 

You groaned as you pulled your hand out of your panties.

“Fuck you!” You yelled at the air.

Taglist: @ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy @mamawiggers1980 @darylandbethfanforever9 @rhaethoughts @believeinthefireflies95 @urfavnoirette @summerposie @sk1mah1 @queenofshinigamis @anukulee

[dragon-ascent]

Hello, how are you ? Since you have open request I’d like to ask something : How do you think our favorite dragon Zhongli will react to his wife being accused of lying because they have corrected an historian on a false fact about Morax ?

Since English isn’t my first language I’m afraid this is not clear, I’m sorry.

Ooh, I like it, here's what I've come up with <3

-----

The tension is palpable and certainly not what you were hoping to land yourself in when you accepted Zhongli's request to be his plus-one aboard the Pearl Galley.

"Forgive me, Mr. Changying, but that's where I'll have to correct you," you tell the stocky man before you. The food and drinks on the table are long-untouched. "Rex Lapis didn't take on such a grand ten-headed and eight-armed form to exterminate those sea creatures. In fact, he personally went door to door to trap them in little Geo contraptions, even having a bit of trouble with the.... particularly wrigglier ones."

Changying's eyes practically roll into the back of his head. "Do you truly believe that rubbish just because that is what's commonly peddled? That the Geo archon, who could raise the mountains and calm the tides without breaking a sweat, found the task of getting rid of tiny sea creatures tedious and challenging?"

Sighing, you say, "Even the gods are subject to being less-than-perfect in their methods. And besides, the damn things were inside people's houses - brute strength would not have been handy at all. Rex Lapis needed to be careful and meticulous so that none of his people were harmed. Hence the Geo cages."

Despite how neatly you'd presented your counterpoint, Changying merely scoffs as he adjusts his glasses. He jabs a finger at you accusingly. "You're lying, just like everyone else," he growls, "and you clearly have no respect for our late archon! Do you even like him?"

Your breath nearly hitches in your throat as you gaze up at him in shock. "Ex...excuse me?"

The man pulls no punches as he continues his rant against you. "How can you so blindly believe what the masses think? Maybe if you were a real Rex Lapis follower like me, you would learn some critical thinking skills and draw more accurate conclusions!"

"I'm afraid I am on the side of my partner here, Mr. Changying," cuts in Zhongli, placing an arm on your shoulder. Relief floods your veins as you let out the breath you'd been holding. "They are correct in explaining that Rex Lapis had to go the simplistic route when dealing with Liyue's sea creature infestation."

Changying's eyes grow wide. "Forgive me, Mr. Zhongli," he murmurs, and you're not ignorant to the way his tone mellows out and becomes more respectful as he continues to speak. "I didn't know you were also in agreement of that story. But let me explain why he likely-"

"It is alright for you to have your own interpretations of events, especially for a being with an expansive history that is always being debated over," says Zhongli calmly, poised as always, "but when these interpretations are unrealistic and you still try to present them as fact...while belittling other people, no less...the line must be drawn somewhere, yes?"

Changying blanches, stammering, "Er, but don't you think Rex Lapis would appreciate deviating thought processes more, especially when..."

Zhongli's eyes narrow ever so slightly, his visage still calm as a pond. "Perhaps so, but what he would not appreciate is his people trying to one-up others in an attempt to prove they are his most loyal followers." Your husband glances at you. "I know my partner well, and they love Rex Lapis dearly. Not only do you accuse them of lying, you also undermine the love they hold for the deity."

His hand brushes against yours and he interlaces his fingers with you, giving a gentle, reassuring squeeze. You smile softly.

Changying scrambles for words, useless excuses and explanations that hardly justify him being on his high horse.

Zhongli, unamused, fires his parting shot. "Far be it for an ordinary man like myself to tell you what to do, but here is some advice: gather reliable citations for your claims, provide succinct evidence, and be respectful of those with opposing views, and perhaps then Rex Lapis would consider you a favorite of his."

With that, Zhongli escorts you away from the scene, knowing full well you will always be his favorite by far - the approving smile he gives you conveys that perfectly.

[fictionandfixation]

Older Bachelor headcanons!

Older Bachelor stardew headcanons because I’ve been playing lots recently! All sfw, some mentions of smoking/alcohol 💕 also please bear in mind I am no SDV expert, so sorry if these go against canon occasionally!

Harvey ☕️🔬📚

• Secret smoking habit that he would rather die than tell anyone about. Not often, but during flu season when he’s stressed, you can find him cooped up in his room with an imported cigar or a Marlboro Gold, an espresso and an Agatha Christie.

• Plays classic soul, funk, golden oldies and jazz in the foyer of the clinic on an old-timey record player, and chooses every day from his large record collection. Frequently irritates Maru with the extent of his Doris Day enjoyment.

• Kind of wide-set - very broad shoulders, and quite tall.

• Packets of salted peanuts and cookies on the clinic foyer desk which he restocks every week.

• Goes to fetch you personally from the mines or Skull Cavern sometimes when you get knocked out. And he also keeps a vintage forest green car behind the clinic to pick you up in. He hopes one day you’ll wake up on the way back and compliment his tasteful vehicle choice or notice he’s bringing you home. You don’t.

• Best friends with Evelyn. Worst enemies with George.

• Tennis player. Plays with whoever will say yes in the mountains and always manages to punt the ball into the lake somehow. Also used to be in a rock climbing club at university, and has sort of sinewy forearms as a result.

• Outrageous flirt after a few glasses of Pinot Noir, mostly because I think he’s on the spectrum but also because I think it would help him stop being quite so nervous.

• Brown suspenders. Every. Single. Day.

• Gives Jas and Vincent candy after their checkup.

• “Sweetheart/honey” as a nickname for you.

Elliott 📜🖋️🐚

• Striped. Matching. Pajamas.

• Finds, forages and cooks mussels when he needs to impress someone. And on that note, very much a French cuisine enjoyer.

• If blue cheese has no fans Elliott is dead.

• Rizz master. Silver tongue. Read so much romance when he was a teenager that it has actively become a part of his personality to be a book boyfriend.

• Very willowy and slender. Metabolism of the gods. Puts away food like it’s nobody’s business.

• Can read several languages, but just can’t master an accent so never uses them in a spoken context. Definitely a student of Latin.

• English accent headcanon! Probably spent the first couple of decades of his life in somewhere high-income like Warwickshire, or (more likely) Cornwall or Exeter, on or near the coast. I am also envisioning him as having been to an old collegiate university like Durham, or maybe a college at Oxford (Merton I reckon).

• Writes and then burns poems about everyone he’s ever been in love with. Starts keeping them when he meets you.

• Chats fashion history with Emily and Haley.

• Religious about his collection of cravat-style ties because he’s seen the Colin Firth Pride and Prejudice a few too many times.

• Frequent book club gatherings with Caroline, Marnie, Robin and Jodi (mostly because mothers love him, the main selling point here being that he has definitely read at least one Jodi Picoult book. He does not remember anything about it, he’s just glad to be invited).

“Dearest/my love” as a pet name.

Shane 🍺🍕🐓

• Snores. Very quiet about it though.

• I know a lot of people HC Harvey as oldest but I reckon it’s Shane. He also acts the most like a bitter old man whereas I feel Harvey is just ‘mature’.

• Could be convinced to grow a beard. Maybe.

• Goes for a jog three times a week. Hates it. Refuses to stop and really isn’t even sure why he does it himself any more.

• Secret Lana Del Rey enjoyer. Mainly a fan of Midwest emo, classic rock, nu metal and sometimes country but the kind of country where they sing about killing people and getting away with it.

• Raised by heavily Christian parents in the Deep South. Yes this is a Southern accent headcanon. Yeehaw.

• Lets Jas put eyeshadow on him sometimes. Shaves properly only when she wants to put makeup on him.

• Craft beer’s number one opp. Wants an ice cold tap Budweiser only, and if there isn’t enough head on it he will be asking for a refund. Not that Gus would ever do that to him.

• Has muscle with padding. Very strong, very wide in stature, but not lean at all. Biceps wider than your neck that you could (and would) use as pillows.

• Makes the most insane hangover breakfast known to man. Bacon. Pancakes. Sausage. Home fries. Butter. Syrup. You’re putting on a bit of healthy relationship weight for sure with Shane as your partner.

• “Darlin’/baby” user. “Sweet cheeks” as a joke. Kind of a joke.

Hope you guys enjoyed these!! I am down irretrievable for Older Bachelor content because I love ✨older men✨

Please let me know if you’d like some more for these characters or the other bachelors and bachelorettes!

[narcjsistx]

hii! I'm new to this platform and I haven't fully understood how it works yet... also, english is not my first language. but here are some headcanons <3

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— Izana Kurokawa in a relationship HCS ᡣ𐭩

Seeing him, I think he would only accept being with someone he has known since he was little, so maybe someone who was in an orphanage with him. He needs someone who knows what it feels like when he talks about the days spent doing nothing, locked in there before Kakucho arrived

For me he suffers from insomnia... so be prepared for purely nocturnal dates. The situation can vary from motorbike rides with breakfast somewhere as soon as dawn breaks, or simple time spent together on the bed or on the roof of the house, talking about anything

It's not uncommon to see you at Tenjiku meetings, perhaps next to him, on his lap, or sitting between him and Kakucho. He likes to show you off, point out to the rest of the members that you are in a relationship with him. He would have no problem talking to his members while you braiding his hair, in fact, if someone dares to say something, he has no problem to shut him up

Just because of the point made before, I think he's someone who is really protective of your respect and how others talk to you. He is careful about how others talk to you because if they even get something wrong they can find themselves dead. He once caught someone calling you a "bitch" because he saw you with Kakucho, not knowing he was basically your bodyguard. Let's say that Izana didn't take it very well

Jealous until the end, I believe that in comparison with the rest of the characters in the manga, no one reaches his level. The only one he leaves you with without getting paranoid is Kakucho

He's not exactly the best at showing his love. Not for any reason in particular, it's just a block of his. It might be years of a relationship before he says "I love you", but it would show how much he cares about you in a more "factuals" ways

Even if he hides it, for me he is someone who seriously adores the world of fashion. You could spend hours together in your room while you try your entire wardrobe, noting which matches are best with certain shirts or skirts. He loves spending hours like this while advising you what goes well with what what

He would like to show you the place where he has been for so long, that is, the orphanage. He would spend hours in the garden while watching the orphaned children play with each other. Maybe he could even imagine a future where the two of you adopt some

Once he grow up, he would like to move to the Philippines. Having spent so many years in Japan, despite being only part Japanese, he would love to make a life there in the Philippines with you. Seeing you even interested in his culture would only make him fall more in love with you

For him, children are extremely important, and he would have no problem having one even at the age of 18. Growing up with his parents' rejection, he simply wants to love someone like he wasn't loved by his mother, father and Karen. So yes, at a certain age he would open up the topic of "children" with you

[bloodytittiez]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys [*gets shot*] I know I've never posted any of my writings before, even though I write fanfiction, but this has been collecting dust in my google docs page for nearly two years and it was too good to not share it with you my little kinky freaks/lh/aff (at least I think so)! I hope you enjoy this little smut fic - English isn't my first language so excuse some possible spelling and grammar errors, please... also, KEEP IN MIND THIS WAS A DRAFT! There's a lot of time skips and I doubt I'll ever finish it.

CONTENT WARNING: AFAB reader, vaginal sex, oral sex, teasing, heavy dirty talking, sex without condom, consensual non-consensual, phone sex, masturbation, public sex, porn with plot.

———

Red and blue lights flickering outside, tree branches tapping against the snowy windows of the sorority house. The soft, slow tunes and delicious scents of cinnamon and ginger cookies flowing in the air...

Christmas, such a family centered holiday where there's only place for laughs and sweet surprises, was completely ruined yet another year by him.

It was the fourth time in the night the moaner called. You could see your roommates gag at the blasphemies and curses the stranger yelled at the phone to each one of them– while you seemed to enjoy them in secret.

《Nasty… F-Filthy piggy. Bi-Billy has a big juicy fat cock he k-knows you’d love to suck on… I-It’s dripping wet and it f-fits in your mouth.》

You crossed your legs as ‘‘Billy’’ —you had no idea if that even was his actual name— spat nonsensical words for the sake of feeling some friction against your womanhood. His descriptions were so detailed that you could picture them perfectly in your head.

《Billy w-will kill each one of you… Tonight.》He breathed out in a way that felt almost a threat, his sentence getting distorted when it reached the other side of the line. Everyone could tell he was all tensed up for the way he gripped the phone.

《I can’t stand you anymore, you fucking pig!》

《Pig… P-piggy! Naughty piggy…》 The moaner repeated, mocking a very stressed out Jess Bradford.

《Jess.》 You interrupted the leader of your group with a serene expression, finally standing up from your seat when you felt her anxiety grow. 《Let me take care of the situation.》 You suggested while you took the device out of her hands before she would say anything, and covering the speaker you added something;

《Why don’t you guys go to bed? It’s way too late already.》

《But we can’t leave you alone with that creep!》 Jess exclaimed.

《Don’t worry about it. Someone has to confront him already and that’s going to be me.》 You answered, already building up enough courage to complete the task. 《Please.》 You looked up at the concerned eyes of every girl occupying the room while you could hear Billy talking to himself on the other side of the line. 《You girls need some rest. It’s been a long day.》

Jess and the rest stood there in silence, trusting your words. She gave you a small nod and parted her lips to articulate a silent ‘‘thank you’’ before leaving the room with relief. You knew she didn’t have enough energy to argue, and so did the rest.

You smiled when you returned to the call, grabbing the phone with distinguished elegance in your movements. A soft smile formed in your face and felt a sudden flock of butterflies inside of your stomach. It definitely wasn’t a good idea to play along with who you knew was a creep, but a part of you loved the thrill and danger in doing that. You could hear your sweet mother’s voice in your head begging to stop what you were doing as you answered Billy. To hell with her warnings of not picking up the phone to strangers!

Tonight was going to be different. May this be your very own Christmas gift…

《Hello, Billy.》 You tried not to come off as rude at first.

《Yes, yes… Hello there, my darling… It's so nice to hear your voice. You sound like an angelic creature.》

《Do you know who I am?》 You asked.

《 Yes... Yes, I know you. The quietest slut of the bunch. Billy loves to see your pretty ass swaying around when you walk. Yes… You filthy, nasty whore love to tease Billy’s cock. I know that well. Billy saw this naughty piggy touch herself… S-saw you cry out for Billy in the intimacy of your room.》

You couldn’t help but fluster at his obscene rambling and switched the phone to your other hand. You were the kind of person that would move around constantly when you felt nervous about something. In this case, a stranger that saw you masturbate plenty of times before. Poor you… How many times exactly did Billy hear you pronounce his name under muffled moans? You could feel your heart rate at the top of your throat, flooded in embarrassment as he playfully mocked you.

But; back to his confession though, you definitely couldn’t deny something that was completely true and after spending some seconds in silence you finally spoke up, a cigarette being held in between two of your shaky fingers so you could calm yourself down.

《Would you like me to do it now? Touch myself for you?》

《Yes. Yes. YES!》 He demanded in an almost feral manner.

You nodded in response to his pleas as the flame of your lighter lit the cigarette and kept paying attention to his delicious blasphemies. You were enjoying the moment more than you would like to admit. 《Touch yourself f-for B-Billy...》 He insisted, despair breaking in his voice. 《I want to hear your sweet moans like when you finger yourself alone.》

You held the phone between your ear and your shoulder, letting one of your hands completely free and trailing down to your skirt as the mysterious man dictated. 《Roll your skirt up… Billy wants to see your juicy ass aswell.》

Your pussy soon got filled with two of your fingers, exploring every inch of your insides.

You were so warm…

So wet…

It was hard to believe how turned on you could get by the phone calls of a creep. Being manipulated in such ways by a man that you'd never seen before.

《I'm doing it, Billy…》 You sighed, moaning his name under your soft breath. 《I'm touching myself.》

The mysterious man groaned and panted on the other side of the line, incapable of forming coherent words. 《Move the phone down to your pretty slick… Billy wants to hear the sound of your wet cunt.》

His voice sent chills down your spine while you placed the speaker close to your pussy, fingering it with oh, such passion in every one of your circular motions. Obviously, you made sure that the sound of the friction of your digits was audible enough for Billy.

《Fuck…》 He groaned once more. 《I want to taste your pretty pink cunt… Oh Y...Yes… I will. I bet it tastes as sweet as you do. B-Billy wants to lick your tits and your round juicy ass.》 The man chuckled with a childish tone as you could hear him stroking his length while getting indulged in his fantasies. 《Suck on your nipples too… Squeeze those tits ‘till they turn red like two christmas ornaments…》

His words made you shove your fingers even deeper in you. You were getting too carried away right when you heard the mysterious man hang up the phone.

You grabbed it close to your ear, wondering what happened.

《Hello? Billy? Are you still there?》

Only the empty beeping of the phone answered you, leaving you completely disappointed and wet.

You took a deep puff of your cigarette and hung up the phone in return when you got tired of listening to the dull melody of the lost connection, then mumbled something and decided to go to your room for some rest too. Maybe Jess and Barb were right after all, there was no point on wasting your time on that fucking moaner guy you all couldn’t stand.

You turned off the lights outside, blew the candles in the living room and grabbed a little candy cane from the coffee table. You thought the night was over and your only comfort now was a little sugary treat.

But, when you suddenly walked into a dark corner of the stairs, a pair of big hands pinned you on the wall. An audible yelp escaped your lips as you heard a man's voice speaking in an attempt to reassure you. It was the same one you'd always hear on the phone.

《Shh… S...Shhh… It's okay… It's me, Billy.》

The man caressed your cheeks in a sloppy manner and covered your mouth. 《Pretty piggy… Where do you think you are going? Billy isn't finished with you yet… There are so many nasty things Billy wants to do to you…》

You tried to pick small bits of his face in the darkness when he slowly released you from his grasp. It felt rather strange to see him in person.

A tall figure partially hidden in the shadows, green eyes that would stare directly into your soul and long, curly hair caressing the sides of his forehead. Billy's description didn't fit his personality at all. He had the looks of a gentleman but the mouth of the devil. Although; you had to be honest about something. You still wanted to fuck Billy despite of his looks. They didn't matter much to you when his low and menacing tone is what drove you absolutely crazy for him at first.

His hot breath hitting against your neck soon turned you on again.

《Billy… I thought you weren't interested in me anymore. Why did you hang up on me?》You pouted, wanting to tease him as an act of revenge.

The way you said those words, with such a sweet yet innocent tone made the man react in ways you exactly wanted him to.

《N...No. Billy came a-all the way here to see you. Billy craves your body.》

You dragged his fingers across the line of your lips as an excuse to turn him on as well. You liked the way he sounded, so nervous. He could break down at any moment and you liked that.

The warmth of his digits along the surface of your puffy lips, bringing goosebumps across your whole body. You parted your lips and spoke again.

《How much do you crave my body?》 You attempted to lick his index finger to which got you a slight moan in response.

《S-So much...》

《Show me then, Billy. I’ve been wanting to do this for the longest time…》

You finally confessed while you rolled your tongue out of your mouth and placed his finger on top. You sucked on it gently from the base to the tip.

———

Billy yanked your hair with such strength, dragging your puffy velvet lips to his dripping cock. His tip forced them open and soon his shaft filled your mouth hole.

Strands of hair tangled up around his fingers, both of you now locked together for god knows how long. You made the man shiver with anticipation as his tip brushed the back of your throat, leaving it hot and irritated.

You couldn't help but gag and drool repeatedly for he didn't give you a single break. But you didn't mind. You finally had what you craved.

‘‘Billy's juicy fat cock…’’

His words showed up in your brain, accompanied by a clear image of the cock that was stuffing your mouth in that very moment. Your horny mind couldn't help but recap every single quote that made you fall madly in love with him. Blame it on your degrading kink as a result of many failed relationships.

Billy bent you over with the same strength as before, ripping a yelp out of your throat while you grabbed the handrails so you wouldn't fall down the stairs and cause a scene.

Your ass now completely exposed was facing him, rubbing against his wet cock.

The man leaned over you and hands crawled around your stomach to hold you firmly as he would start rocking his hips at a slow pace. His left hand roamed free around your belly and later your clit, while his right one stayed busy pinching and twisting your nipples ever so slightly.

Billy could make you scream at any given time.

He could definitely break you. Turn you into his pretty little fucktoy, but having sex in a set of stairs definitely required some precaution.

《Billy. We should move somewhere else…》You gasped as soon as you could catch some air and already felt your whole body sore from standing up there. 《What if someone wakes up and sees us here?》

《If someone sees us…》 He repeated. 《I…It won't matter. I want them to see YOU moaning f-for Billy. Want them t…to see just how good you can take a cock.》

He purred into your ear as he covered your mouth to force your jaw open widely for him. Holding your breasts better around his hands he rubbed them together and squeezed them. You felt his wet cock pressing against your folds, desperately trying to make its way inside of you. God it felt so good to finally experience how all of his sinful threats came true one by one. Little whines came out of your mouth when you tried to accommodate to his size but he didn't let you. He was more than aware of his power and chuckled playfully.

《Billy's cock feels so good inside of your wet cunt. You are taking it so well. So tremendously well. Don't stop squealing, my little dirty piggy.》

You obeyed and let out a bunch of more moans caused by the pain of quick and deep thrusts. It was embarrassing to echo your satisfaction to an empty living room... And definitely hoped the girls closed their doors upstairs.

———

Billy noticed the red and white swirled candy that you were holding in your hands and took it from you while he turned your body around so that you could face him now.

Still holding your waist, he licked the candy cane until it would remain a little damped. You were staring at his eyes in a mix of excitement and curiosity the whole time and snickered.

He spreaded your folds and shoved the candy inside.

《Billy's gonna make this wet cunt even tastier.》

———

The chorus of early birds singing outside and gentle sunrays kissing your face woke you up the next morning. You stretched your arms, your legs and then… A pinch on your sore waist fully woke you up. You remembered what happened last night soon after that and smiled.

You sat up in bed and noticed a candy cane wrapped its plastic with a small green bow and a note. You had no idea when and how it got there, perhaps Claude; the sorority cat stole it from the silver platter downstairs and left it in your bed as a mere coincidence. You elongated your arm to pick it up and brushed strands of hair behind your ears to read it better.

It said ''Merry Christmas. With love, Billy'' in a surprisingly tidy calligraphy.

His name made your heart flutter and cheeks aroused when you remembered more details about last night.

You unwrapped the candy cane and tasted it, its sweet flavor melting in your tongue.

Maybe Christmas wasn't completely ruined this year.

[hornedstorys]

POTA Caesar x reader - turning Page Part 1

It's been far too long since I've seen the films! It's time to change that! I hope you like the story anyway. And I have no idea how many parts this story will have. Maybe 2-3?

Warnings: sfw, very slight closeness, friends to lovers, slight angst, slow burn - english is not my native language

Content: You were Will's cousin and lived with him. You and Caesar grew up together and loved playing together. But you got older, feelings changed, just like events in the world.

German Version

When you heard the news from Will that he had rescued a baby chimpanzee, you almost died of curiosity. You really wanted to see the baby!

You were downstairs at the front door so quickly and pulled it open before Will could even think about putting his keys on.

"Where is he?" you asked hastily and Will laughed, then you noticed the box in Will's hands.

"Is it in there?" you were about to look for yourself, but Will just managed to block you and shook his head in amusement.

"Take it easy, (Y/n). Let me come in first, then I can introduce you to him."

Him? So he was a boy, you thought to yourself and followed Will into the kitchen. Your eyes followed the action excitedly. Then finally Will opened the box and a little chimpanzee appeared, blinking at Will and you with curious golden-green eyes.

You almost fainted at the sight of the baby. He was so cute! Carefully, the little one stretched out his tiny hands and with wide eyes you pushed your finger towards him. He accepted it gratefully.

"He's really cute! Is he going to stay?" you asked and Will nodded: "For now, yes. I couldn't possibly leave him in the lab." You nodded understandingly and didn't take your eyes off the little monkey.

"What's his name?" you asked and Will shrugged.

"Caesar," Will smiled and you looked at the little Ape with big kid eyes.

"Hello Caesar!"

It was amusing to watch Will trying to be a surrogate mother to little Caesar. You tried to help as much as you could, even though you were only ten years old. Still, you tried to help and take care of Charles, well at least you tried to talk to him and play games with Charles. But his Alzheimer's didn't get any better.

You felt so sorry for him and it seemed like it was getting worse every day. But you had no idea about the plans Will was making, you didn't even know what exactly was going on with Caesar and what the researchers in the lab were doing with the Apes, maybe you were just too young at the time to understand. You had fallen too much in love with the young Ape that you cared for so much that you only had thoughts for him. He was growing so fast and learning so quickly. It fascinated you.

With a heavy snort, Caesar let his breath slide against your neck. You giggled. You had just been playing tag, but Caesar was much faster than you.

"Stop it Caesar, it tickles!" the little monkey made happy noises. You sat with him at the dinner table. He was so clever, he had already understood how to drink from a bottle of milk when he was only one day old. Now he was nibbling on a few apples and looking at you with shining eyes.

Three years later, Caesar had learned to use the toilet. Which surprised and amused you at the same time. He got cheekier and started teasing you by breathing against your neck. He knew it tickled you. But then you had your moments where you tried to beat each other at chess.

He was always one step ahead of you, he always won. And sometimes, when you were lucky enough to win, you could see something in his eyes. Something mischievous, but also something gentle. He let you win on purpose. You really had the feeling that you were sitting in front of a human and not a monkey.

Will did tests with Caesar in between. He was just as fascinated by his intelligence and wanted to test it. You looked at the whole thing with a critical eye, because you saw from Will how the monkeys were treated in the laboratory and also how Caesar's mother Bright Eyes was killed. The monkeys were not seen as living beings, but as guinea pigs.

"This time I win," you growl, sitting opposite the monkey who looks at you mischievously. You had another game of chess and this time you thought you would finally win. You made your move and were so close to winning, but your hopes were dashed when Caesar made his move. Your mouth fell open and you almost fell off your chair.

"You've won again?" you shouted in disbelief and hit your forehead on the tabletop, not too hard of course. This monkey had now beaten you for the fifth time in an hour. He was so quick with his moves, while you took a little longer. Caesar grunted in amusement and you looked at him in offense. He was making fun of you, great.

Soon Will's girlfriend Caroline joined us. She had helped you with Caesar, she really knew a lot as she was a vet. You went for a walk together in the park with Caesar, Charles and Will. The young monkey really blossomed when he was out in nature and he wasn't even afraid of dogs. You soon found that out when Caesar snarled and stood up to a German shepherd who didn't even know what was happening.

Caroline and you got on really well and you were also glad that you were finally not the only woman in this male household. You were no longer a child but a teenager, your body was changing and so were your moods. As a result, you were more easily annoyed by Caesar's games. He had got into the habit of teasing you and testing your limits. But you couldn't blame him, after all he was getting older too and entering a kind of puberty.

Still, he was gentle with you, he had never hurt you before. His every touch was deliberate and controlled, he could well appreciate that his strength was so far above yours that he could kill you with ease. Of course he didn't want that. He liked you, you had grown up together and you were family to him.

It was another one of those days when you were sitting in the garden reading a book in the evening when everything was quiet. You were far too focused on the book that you didn't notice the shadow in the neighboring trees and how it dropped to the ground with ease. Soft footsteps came closer to you and suddenly someone breathed gently on the back of your neck. Startled, you dropped your book and pinched your neck where you felt the breath so Caesar wouldn't have a chance to do it again.

You giggled and gave him an offended look. Wait a minute! You got up and walked towards him. You tried to tickle him too, but Caesar was quicker and dodged your hand. He liked this game. Caesar was faster than you and before you knew it, he grabbed you by the hips and pushed you against him. His green-gold eyes met yours and there was silence for a few seconds. You just looked at each other.

His eyes fascinated you, they looked so human and yet different. Those golden speckles in his eyes glowed and you only noticed it now. His hard chest was warm against yours and he too seemed lost in your eyes. His gaze was equally pensive.

"Caesar," his name came through to him and he liked the sound of you pronouncing each letter. Your scent wafted into his nostrils and he breathed in and out deeply. He knew that these feelings were only arising because he was changing physically. At least Will had explained to him that he could be going through a kind of puberty, much like humans. Was that why he saw you a fraction differently than he had the years before?

The barking of a neighborhood dog snapped you out of your thoughts and Caesar's grip loosened, but it took ages. Your pulse beat against your neck and his eyes fixed on him. He only now saw how soft and fragile your skin seemed and how easily he could break through it with his sharp canines. He had never noticed it when he was younger. He had seen you differently and now. You've changed, you've grown up and… He shook his head quickly and turned away, disappearing into his room.

You looked after him, puzzled. But he left you with a comforting warmth that frightened you.

But that evening was just the calm before the storm.

You watched Will's car drive away with tears in your eyes. He and Caroline had taken Caesar and they had just left you behind. They knew you were just trying to free Caesar and now they were taking him to a monkey house. You slumped on the floor crying, holding one of Caesar's T-shirts in your hands. It still smelled like him. He really did have a pleasant scent.

You closed your eyes, then you made a decision. Days later, you secretly grabbed Will's car keys and took his car. You drove to the monkey house where Caesar was supposed to be living now.

The blond guy who took you to him wasn't exactly sympathetic and you scowled at him as he stared at your neckline. Still, he had taken you to Caesar's, but it had cost you the last of your cash, which you had to hand over to this idiot to get him to take you to Caesar's.

When you arrived at Caesar's cage, you froze. He was sitting in the corner, his gaze fixed silently on the wall. You stepped closer to the bars and gripped the cold metal with your trembling hands.

"Caesar, I'm here," you spoke softly, hoping it would calm him down a little. When the monkey heard your words, he immediately jumped up and walked quickly towards you. He didn't take his eyes off yours for a second. Your hand slipped through the bars and gently stroked his cheek. His head leaned into your touch and you felt the tears gathering in them. He looked so exhausted, but you could see how the fire in them hadn't gone out yet.

"I'm so sorry," you breathed and a tear escaped your eye. His big thumb gently stroked it away and his eyes looked at you with affection.

"Not your fault. Caesar, was bad," he gestured and you immediately shook your head and contradicted him: "You are not a bad monkey, Caesar! You are the gentlest and kindest monkey I have ever met!" Again a tear rolled down your cheek and again the chimpanzee wiped it away. He was just trying to protect his family when this neighbor just couldn't control himself. Nobody wanted that to happen.

'You have to go,' grunted the monkey. He didn't want you to stay in this horrible place any longer, "I'll be fine," he gestured further. He saw the struggle in your watery eyes and that you were already thinking of a plan to get him out of there, but he didn't want to. He would find a way himself.

"I love you, Caesar. Don't forget that," you whispered and stroked the soft fur on his face again. You were the only one allowed to touch him there and he enjoyed that touch, and what he enjoyed even more were your words, even if he couldn't fully appreciate what you meant.

"Caesar loves you too, (Y/n)."

A few years had passed. The virus had taken everything from you. Will, your family, everyone. You had escaped when people went crazy. They started fighting for things, be it food or places to sleep. You were scared and didn't want to stay in the city any longer. You packed up what you needed and disappeared into the forest. The only place that was safer than the city.

As on many nights before, you sat by the fire and stared into the flames. You thought about the past and especially about Caesar. There wasn't a day when you didn't think about the monkey and you wondered what had become of him. The loneliness consumed you more and more with each passing day and your fear grew. The forest was dangerous and you were mostly lucky that no bear had caught you yet.

You survived by eating berries, although you had bad experiences with some of them. Some of the ones you found were poisonous and made you throw up quite badly afterwards. That was the last time you picked those particular varieties.

You sighed and rubbed your eyes against your forearm as you rested your face on your arms. Suddenly there was a crack in the undergrowth and you tensed, then the earth began to shake. Confused, you stood up, what was going on?

You looked around in panic as the first deer came towards you and with a wobbly leap you jumped to the side to avoid landing under the animal's hard hooves.

A few seconds later, more came. It was a mass panic that was triggered and it forced you to run. Your heart pounding, you ran through the undergrowth, hoping not to be trampled to death by the herd.

What had happened? What had startled the animals so much? You almost tripped over a root, but you quickly managed to catch yourself and keep running. But you almost missed the next danger ahead of you, a ravine. You wanted to stop, but one of the big deer crashed into you and you were thrown down with a scream.

You hit a rocky outcrop with a hard thud. Pain shot through you like a bolt of lightning and your head rumbled. Every movement burned and you were afraid to move, you didn't know if anything was broken. You tried to stay calm, breathing heavily.

"Take it easy, (Y/n). It's going to be okay," you tried to tell yourself, but you could feel how much of a lie it was and tears gathered in your eyes, you sobbed.

"Caesar…" came out of your mouth subconsciously and images from the past flashed up again and an arm with dark fur. He came towards you as if in slow motion. He looked so real. Your brows drew together and you stretched out your arm too.

Suddenly the arm sped up and in a flash the large, rough hand grabbed your wrist and yanked you upwards, followed by another hand. A cry of pain escaped your throat as your body began to burn again. You were laid down on the floor and your eyes blacked out for a moment.

A dark shadow hovered over you and green-gold eyes looked down at you, worried but critical. Rough hands scanned your body for injuries and a hissing sound came from your lungs.

Then you opened your eyes, the blurry outline above you becoming clearer and clearer until you could make it out. Your heart skipped a beat and your eyes widened.

"Caesar?…"

[jexnkookie]

The Law of Attraction (Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader) [Part 10]

Story Synopsis: Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

Story Rating: M (18+) [Language, sex, depression, alcoholism]

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Characters/Pairings: Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader (feat. Jimin x Reader)

Chapter Word Count: 2.6k

Taglist: @cassies-cookies @crisle19 @dream-cvtcher @jimincrystal @jksusawife @jk-190811 @khadeeeeej @kooklovee @lalataegi @lallataegi @mukeovernetflix @rispwn @shellyyy177 @smoljimjim @taetaecatbo @user-190811 @whoa-jo @11thenightwemet11

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

It’s interesting, you thought, how there are weeks that feel as though they just bleed into one another. No clear distinction between each day that passes; just melting into  the motion of monotony. You visited Jimin three days a week, bringing food, sitting at the same table, and having relatively the same conversations. He stared at your naked ring finger, and you pretended not to notice. Neither of you wanted to address it, and neither of you particularly felt that you needed to. You both knew what was going on, but it pained Jimin to know he carried the burden of responsibility. When you left that evening, giving him a half-hearted kiss, he couldn’t stop his tears once he knew you were gone. 

“So,” Dr. Moore began their session the next morning. “I want to talk a bit about your fiancé.” 

“Ok.” Jimin nodded. Despite several sessions with Dr. Moore, and growing a bit more comfortable, there were still nerves present. 

“Can you start by telling me a little bit about her?” 

“Y/N…” Jimin paused, thinking of the right words to say. “Y/N is my everything. She’s undoubtedly the love of my life.” 

“What does your father think of Y/N?” 

“He likes her.” Jimin responded. “He thinks she’s a good person, and he likes her family. He thinks that I’m lucky to have a woman like her.” 

“A woman like her?” 

“Well, she’s very beautiful.” Jimin smiled, thinking of you. “Well educated and well traveled, as well. She’s very intelligent. She studied international business, French and English, and he was quite impressed with that.” 

“I see.” Dr. Moore nodded, scribbling a few notes onto her note pad. “She sounds lovely.” 

“She is.” Jimin agreed. “She’s the only one for me.” 

“Why?” 

“I…” Jimin paused, his brows furrowing in confusion. “I just told you about her, and you agreed that she sounds lovely.” 

“Yes, but what makes her the only one for you?” 

“I’m not sure I’m following.” Jimin said with a slight, confused laugh. 

“There are lots of lovely, well educated, beautiful women in the world. Why is this one, Y/N, the only one for you?” 

“Because.” Jimin said, beginning to feel a bit offended by her line of questioning. “I love her.” 

“What about her do you love?” 

“I don’t like these questions.” Jimin said, crossing his arms defensively. “I love everything about Y/N.” 

“Jimin, if I may ask one more question,” Dr. Moore said, taking off her glasses. “Are you holding on to your fiancé because you love her? Or do you love the idea of adding someone to your life that your father will approve of, and will keep you from being alone?” 

“I…” Jimin looked at her, with wide eyes. “What makes you ask that?” 

“When you described her, it felt as though you were reading a resumé of a new employee at your company.” Dr. Moore said, looking back to her notes as she slid her glasses back on. “Well educated, studied international business, speaks three languages… Are these qualifiers to fall in love, or are they qualifiers to fill a position?” 

“Do you think that I’m not in love with her?” 

“I think you may be afraid.” Dr. Moore said gently. “But only you can tell me that with any certainty.” 

With that, the timer beeps, indicating that their daily session was over. Jimin left the room, feeling more unsettled, vulnerable and with a heaviness in his chest that he couldn’t ignore. He was sure he loved you, never questioning what the feelings he had for you were. It was uncharted waters, to analyze his own emotional landscape critically, and he continued to muse over her words throughout the night. 

—————————————————————————————————

Wine always tasted sweeter after living through a few hard weeks. You sat on the living room floor with Jung Kook that night, and watched as he casually threw back drinks with a boyish grin. There was a playlist casually put on in the background, and Jung Kook made it a point to not bring up anything too heavy. Jimin, your seemingly fragile engagement, the court case. None of that existed within the walls of his apartment. In this room, you were just you, and he was just himself, and you were safe. So, unbelievably safe, that watching him pour another glass of wine didn’t make you nervous. You knew that here, nothing was out to get you. 

As your bare feet walked across the floor of the kitchen to put up the last freshly cleaned glass, the song changed on the shuffled playlist, and Jung Kook whipped his head quickly to the tv screen to see. 

“Y/N!” He called from the living room, getting up to his feet. “I love this song. C’mon, you gotta dance with me.” 

“Jung Kook, I’m a terrible dancer.” You laughed at his playful demeanor. 

“Me too, but come on.” He whined, extending his hand. “Don’t leave me hanging here.” 

“Fine.” You conceded with a giggle, making your way to him, before slipping your hand in his. 

Was the room spinning from the alcohol, the dizziness of how Jung Kook twirled you around, or the lightness you felt in your chest? You had no idea, and in that moment, you weren’t sure it mattered, because all of those things were true. They were real, happening in real time, playing off one another as you danced around the living room and into the kitchen, the drinks making you spill into different spaces. 

Jung Kook, with a large smile, picked you up with one final spin and placed you on the counter of the kitchen island. Your hair was tousled, you were wearing pajamas, and your cheeks were rosy from the laughter, movement and drinks. Jung Kook swore to himself that in that moment, captured like an image to be stored in his memory, you had never looked more beautiful. This, the happiness he felt just by being with you, and the happiness written on your face, was all he’s ever wanted. Before he could stop to think what he was doing, caught up in the moment he was in, he leaned in close you… then froze, with his lips not quite to yours. 

The spinning had stopped. The room seemed quiet and still, with everything disappearing to the background as you looked at him in surprise. The curve of his nose, the pink of his lips, the deep brown of his eyes. Cute. 

Maybe it was the red wine buzz, or the emotionally taxing weeks, or the way Jung Kook looked at your lips like there was nothing in this life that he had ever wanted more. But you smiled and felt like giving in. So you leaned in to meet him halfway for the first time, and connected your lips to his. 

Jung Kook closed his eyes and melted into your lips, finding a rhythm instantly, like it was natural. It was better than he had imagined, and he instinctively raised his hands to delicately hold your face as he deepened the kiss. He had, in that single instant, everything. He was so desperately crazy about you, and he hoped you could feel that from the way he hopelessly chased and tasted your lips. You rested your hands on his chest, not to create distance, but simply to touch him. 

Finally, when Jung Kook pulled away, you were both breathless. He never removed his hands from your jawline, but pressed his forehead to yours in an effort to be closer, and with a smile and a quiet voice, he admitted, “I’ve wanted to do that for so, so long.” 

“Then… I think maybe, you should do it again.” You responded with a shy smile, and felt Jung Kook come back to your lips, excited to kiss you again, but continuing to take his time and move his lips slowly. 

———————————————————————

The next morning, Jung Kook woke up on the couch, with your head on his chest and his arms around you. He was surprised and grateful that you hadn’t woken up yet, so he could hold you a little longer. He brushed hair away from your sleeping face, and watched the way your eyes fluttered just enough for him to notice. Jung Kook couldn’t erase the sleepy smile from his lips, even has he lowered his head to plant a kiss to the top of yours. He watched your chest rise and fall as you slept, and absentmindedly caressed your back. He wasn’t sure if he was awake, since every moment from last night forward felt like a dream. 

“Y/N?” He whispered, raising his thumb to softly touch your jawline. “Y/N, I have to go to work…” 

The sentence lingered. He wanted to end by calling you something else; baby? Honey? Sweetie? None seemed to work, because he wasn’t sure what was allowed. Everything seemed fragile, like it could disappear at every moment. So as you woke up, he savored holding you in his arms as long as he could. 

“Ok…” You mumbled as you slowly woke up. You raised your head to meet his gaze, and greeted him with a soft, “Hi.” 

“Hi.” He responded, his voice low. “How’d you sleep?” 

“Good.” You responded. “I guess we fell asleep on the couch together.” 

“We did.” Jung Kook smiled. “I…Um… Yeah.” 

“Yeah.” You smiled back. You knew what he meant, even with so little said. “Thank you, for everything. The food, the place to stay, the…yeah.” You trailed off. 

“…Yeah.” Jung Kook’s cheeks began to pink as he blushed. “I’d do everything, all of it, again. Any time.” 

“Me too.” You admitted, laying your head back down on his chest, and listening to his heart beat. 

Eventually, you both had to leave the couch, and Jung Kook shyly kissed the top of your head before he left for work, making you blush. He couldn’t help himself; now that he had a sample of what your love felt like, he needed more, and he wanted to shower you in attention. As he walked to work, he remembered all the years that he daydreamed what your lips tasted like, and what it would feel like to hold you as you fell asleep on his chest. He never dared to imagine that one day, he’d actually know. As people walked past him, he knew he probably looked crazy, smiling like a lovestruck idiot, but he couldn’t care less. Because he knew, in his apartment right now, you were there. The girl he had spent so many years adoring in secret. There were still so many unknowns, and he tried hard not to get too excited, but your taste lingered on his lips, making him forget all things logical. 

Jung Kook sat at his office desk, and tried to focus on his schedule for the day. It would only be a few hours before his new possible client that Namjoon had sent his way, would be over to meet with him. So Jung Kook did a quick review of the case, and jotted down some notes, losing himself in his work. 

“Um, Mr. Jeon?” A man asked, knocking on his door. “I hope I’m in the right place.” 

“Yes, hello!” Jung Kook got up to shake the man’s hand. “You must be Mr. Kim, who I spoke with on the phone the other day. It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

“You too. You can call me Taehyung, if you’d like.” The man smiled a boxy smile. His chocolate eyes were hidden behind locks of hair. “I’m glad Namjoon was able to recommend your council for me.” 

“Please, have a seat.” Jung Kook said politely, motioning towards the seat at his office. “I was just looking over your case, and I’d like to talk a bit more about it.” 

The men sat and talked for a while, as Taehyung discussed the incident with Jung Kook, and Jung Kook in return wrote a few notes down. As they conversed, neither payed attention to anyone outside of Jung Kook’s private office, until another knock came to the door. 

“Mr. Jeon,” Namjoon greeted with Jimin by his side, before pausing when he saw Taehyung sitting there. “My apologies, I didn’t know you were with a client. I wanted to ask if you still had those case notes from our first meeting with Mr. Park.” 

“I believe they’re still in one of my binders, let me check.” 

Jimin, however, didn’t hear a word of what was said between the two lawyers as he stared at a man he never thought he’d see again. Kim Taehyung. A man he told your father he didn’t spend time with anymore, sitting in the chair looking back at him like a ghost from his past. Memories of wild nights, mistakes, bad decisions and regrets seemed to loom over him like a shadow. 

“Jimin!” Taehyung said, practically leaping from his seat with a grin. “Oh my God, how long has it been? Holy shit, how are you?” 

Jimin didn’t know what to say. How am I? He thought to himself. I’m in rehab and about to lose my fiancé. 

“I’ve been good.” Jimin answered. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better.” He admitted. “You remember Mr. Min, who always let us party together on his yacht? Some girl I was with one night here in the city trashed it, and now he’s trying to make me pay.” 

“Oh.” Jimin nodded, still too stunned to form a real conversation. 

“You two know each other?” Namjoon asked, eyebrows raised. 

“Oh yeah, Jimin and I used to have a lot of fun.” Taehyung explained with a grin. “We used to party every night, until I moved to Seoul and Jimin started dating that one girl. What’s her name again?” 

“Y/N.” Jimin responded, sounding sad at the mention of you. “Her name is Y/N.” 

Jung Kook slowed at Jimin’s answer, hearing your name come from his voice. He noted how upset Jimin sounded, and he couldn’t help but wonder what his reaction would be if he knew that just last night, the man in front of him kissed his fiancé and held her in his arms while she slept? 

“Yeah, Y/N.” Taehyung nodded. “I saw the pictures, she’s cute. Are you two still together?” 

The air suddenly felt heavy. Jimin never thought there would be a day when he wasn’t sure how to answer that question. “Yes” didn’t feel true, but neither did “no.” He was still yours, but were you still his? He didn’t know. Your ring has remained off your finger, but you let him kiss you when you see him, even if the enthusiasm you once had for his attention is clearly dwindling. Jimin’s lips were parted, and he was painfully aware that no words were coming out. 

“Mr. Kim, here are the notes.” Jung Kook said, breaking the tense silence in the room. Jimin looked over at Jung Kook, and the lawyer tried not to make too much eye contact, as though meeting his eyes would reveal everything from the night before. 

“Thank you, Mr. Jeon.” Namjoon said professionally, nodding a goodbye to Taehyung. “Please, continue your meeting. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.” 

“Hey, Jimin,” Taehyung called out, right as Jimin was turning away. “My number is still the same. Since you’re in the city too, let’s go out sometime, yeah? Like we used to.” 

Jimin only nodded, and then continued to walk back to Namjoon’s office. As soon as Jimin was out of the room, Jung Kook felt like he could breathe again. 

[cheynovak]

The Road to Clarity - part 1  

 

Summary: Y/N is a photographer, loving her job in New York. During a shoot she worked with her now boyfriend, Tom. They soon started dating. Now three years later her life takes a turn and when she flies out to Texas, she meets Jensen, a rancher with a teenage daughter Samantha. 

Warnings: slow burn, romantic, nothing to explicit -> yet

English is not my first language  

Words:  3730 

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

Y/N had always loved the way her camera captured life. In a city like New York, where everything moved at a breakneck pace, photography was her way of freezing time, of holding onto the moments that mattered. Her days were filled with shoots, editing sessions, and gallery meetings, but her nights belonged to Tom. 

She met Tom on a crisp autumn afternoon. He was the model for a high-profile fashion shoot, and the moment she saw him, something clicked. His chiseled features, confident demeanor, and the way he carried himself—it all drew her in. What started as professional banter quickly turned into late-night conversations, shared dinners, and eventually, love. 

They had been inseparable for the past three years. Y/N often marveled at how lucky she was to have found someone like Tom. They complemented each other in every way—her quiet introspection balanced his outgoing charm, her artistic vision complemented his natural talent in front of the camera. When he proposed under the soft glow of the Brooklyn Bridge, she said yes without hesitation. 

But love, Y/N was beginning to realize, could be as fleeting as the moments she captured on film. 

It started with little things—a text message he quickly hid, unexplained absences, and a change in his behavior that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Y/N tried to ignore it at first, brushing away her unease as paranoia. But the doubts gnawed at her, growing larger and more insistent with each passing day. 

One evening, while Tom was in the shower, Y/N's curiosity got the better of her. She hesitated for a moment, heart pounding in her chest, before unlocking his phone. She wasn’t prepared for what she found. Dozens of messages, photos, and late-night plans with someone else. Her worst fears confirmed, she felt her world collapse in on itself. 

Tom emerged from the bathroom, steam billowing out behind him, and saw the look on her face. There was no need for words—he knew she had found out. 

"Y/N, I can explain," he started, but she cut him off. 

"Don’t," she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. "Just… don’t." 

The apartment that had once felt so warm and safe now felt suffocating. She needed to escape, to put as much distance between herself and this betrayal as possible. Without a word, she grabbed her suitcase, threw in whatever she could find, and walked out the door, leaving Tom standing there, drenched in the silence of his own making. 

At the airport, she stared blankly at the departure board. She had no plan, no destination in mind—just the overwhelming urge to be anywhere but here. Texas. It was the first place that caught her eye. A place far from the towering skyscrapers and the painful memories they held. She bought the next ticket out and boarded the plane, leaving behind the city that had given her so much, yet taken away even more. 

As the plane lifted off, Y/N stared out the window at the sprawling city below, the lights glittering like a thousand broken promises. She let the tears fall freely now, each one a testament to the love she thought she had, the life she thought she was building. 

-- 

Texas greeted her with open skies and a warmth that contrasted sharply with the cold she felt inside. She rented a small cabin on the outskirts of a quiet town, far away from the hustle and bustle of city life. The days passed slowly, the rhythm of the rural life a stark contrast to the frenetic pace she was used to. She spent her mornings walking along dusty trails, camera in hand, capturing the beauty of a world that seemed so far removed from her own. 

One day, as she was photographing a field of wildflowers behind her rented cabin, swaying gently in the breeze, she noticed a young couple lounging near a tree. They couldn’t have been more than sixteen, the girl with long, flowing hair and the boy with a mischievous grin. There was something so innocent, so pure about their presence. Y/N raised her camera and snapped a few shots, the soft click of the shutter almost lost in the rustling of the leaves. 

The couple noticed her, and she waved them over, smiling. They approached, curious and a little shy. 

"Hi there," Y/N greeted them warmly. "I hope you don’t mind—I couldn’t resist capturing such a sweet moment." 

The girl blushed, her eyes sparkling with young love. "No, we don’t mind at all. Can we see?" 

Y/N showed them the photos on the camera’s screen. The girl gasped in delight. "These are beautiful!" 

"You two make a lovely picture," Y/N said, feeling a pang of something bittersweet as she looked at them. They reminded her of a time when she, too, had believed in love that simple and untainted. 

"My mom has a darkroom at home," the girl said suddenly, her voice filled with pride. "She used to develop photos all the time.” Y/N’s curiosity was piqued. "A darkroom? That’s rare to find these days. Where do you live?" 

The girl pointed off toward the distance. "Not far, just a couple of miles down the road. You should come by sometime!” The boy nudged the girl gently. "We should get going, Sam. It’s getting late." 

Samantha nodded, smiling at Y/N giving her hand. "Samantha, Sam for short, It was really nice meeting you." 

"You too, I’m Y/N" She replied, watching as they walked away, hand in hand, disappearing into the twilight. As Y/N stood there, the camera hanging loosely from her neck, she couldn’t resist capturing one last image of the young couple. They walked hand in hand toward the setting sun, their silhouettes framed perfectly by the golden light. She clicked the shutter, knowing that this moment, like so many others, would be one she would keep with her. 

-- 

The following week, Y/N found herself at a quaint café in town, her laptop open in front of her. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as she sipped her drink, her focus on editing the photos she had taken over the past few days. The images of the teenage couple were among her favorites, and she found herself drawn to the warmth and innocence captured in each shot. 

As she worked, the familiar sound of a truck pulling up outside the café caught her attention. She glanced up just as the door swung open, revealing Samantha and a man who looked to be in his early forties. He had light brown hair, slightly tousled, and sharp green eyes that contrasted with his weathered face—features that suggested years of hard work under the Texas sun. 

Samantha’s eyes lit up when she saw Y/N. She waved enthusiastically, her smile as bright as ever. Y/N smiled back, motioning for them to join her at the small table by the window. 

“Hi, Y/N!” Samantha greeted her cheerfully, sliding into the chair across from her. The man followed suit, offering a polite nod. 

“Hey, Samantha,” Y/N replied warmly, turning her laptop so they could see the screen. “I was just working on your photos. What do you think?” 

Samantha leaned forward, her eyes widening as she took in the image of herself and her boyfriend walking into the sunset. The colors were rich and vibrant, the mood of the moment perfectly captured. She gasped, her excitement bubbling over. 

“Oh my gosh, Y/N, this is amazing! I love it!” 

Y/N smiled, pleased with the reaction. “I’m glad you like it. I wanted to capture that feeling—you two looked so happy.” 

The man, who Y/N assumed was Samantha’s father, peered at the screen, his green eyes narrowing slightly in thought. “That’s a great shot, but I thought you two had broken up?” 

Samantha’s expression shifted instantly from joy to irritation. She shot her father a sharp look. “Dad, seriously? You don’t understand a thing, do you?” 

Y/N watched the exchange, feeling a twinge of discomfort at the tension between them. It was clear there was something deeper going on beneath the surface. 

Her father sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as if searching for the right words. “I’m just trying to look out for you, Sammy. You’re young, and sometimes boys aren’t as true as they seem.” Samantha crossed her arms, her voice defensive. “I know that, but we’re fine. It was just a stupid argument, okay? We’ve moved past it.” 

Y/N, sensing the need to diffuse the situation, gently interjected. “It’s clear from the photos how much you care about each other. Relationships can be complicated, especially when you’re young, but it’s the love and the connection that really matter.” 

Samantha’s expression softened as she glanced back at the image on the screen. “Yeah… you’re right. We do care about each other. I just wish Dad would stop worrying so much.” 

Her father gave a small, resigned smile. “It’s my job to worry, Sam. 

The moment of tension eased, and Y/N felt a sense of relief. She closed her laptop, feeling like she had intruded on a private moment. “Y/N, would you mind sending me a copy of that picture?” Samantha asked, her voice lighter now. “I’d love to print it out and hang it in my room.” 

“Of course,” Y/N replied, smiling. “I’ll email it to you tonight.” 

As they got up to leave, Samantha’s father paused, glancing back at Y/N with an expression that suggested he wanted to say something more. His green eyes flickered with a mixture of hesitation and thoughtfulness, but after a brief moment, he simply nodded and walked out the door, following Samantha. 

Y/N watched them go, wondering what he had been about to say, but she didn’t dwell on it for long. Instead, she packed up her things and headed back to her cabin, where she spent the evening editing more photos, including the one Samantha loved. True to her word, she sent the image to Samantha later that night, feeling satisfied with the day’s work. 

-- 

A few days later, Y/N found herself wandering through the small town, her camera slung over her shoulder as always. The sun was warm, casting a gentle glow over the streets, and she felt more at peace than she had in a long time. As she passed by the local high school, she noticed a group of students gathered around a bulletin board, hanging up posters and flyers. 

Curious, Y/N walked over and saw Samantha among them, carefully pinning up a large picture of a race with bold lettering announcing a charity event. The flyer explained that the race was part of a school project to raise money for a local cause, and the image captured the excitement and energy of the event perfectly. 

“Samantha!” Y/N called out, waving as she approached. 

Samantha turned, her face lighting up when she saw Y/N. “Hey! What do you think?” she asked, gesturing to the poster she had just hung up. 

“It looks great,” Y/N said, admiring the picture. “You’re doing this as a school project?” 

“Yeah,” Samantha nodded enthusiastically. “We’re trying to raise money for a new sports field. The schoolpaper is doing a big feature on it, and we want to get as much coverage as possible.” 

Y/N smiled, already anticipating what was coming next. Samantha’s passion for the project was infectious, and Y/N could see how much it meant to her. 

So,” Samantha began, her tone hopeful, “I was wondering… would you be willing to take some pictures for the schoolpaper? I know it’s a lot to ask, and we don’t really have a budget, but it would mean so much to us. We’re hoping you might be able to do it for free?” 

Y/N didn’t hesitate. “Of course, I’d love to help out,” she said warmly. “I’m happy to do it.” 

Samantha’s face lit up with relief and gratitude. “Thank you so much, Y/N! This is going to make a huge difference.” 

Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of fulfilment in being able to contribute to something meaningful. “Just let me know the details, and I’ll be there.” As they chatted about the upcoming event, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of purpose. The more she immersed herself in the community, the more she realized that this small town had given her something she hadn’t expected a new home. 

-- 

The day of the event arrived with a clear, bright sky and a gentle breeze that carried the scent of grilled food and sweet treats from the stalls lining the field. Y/N had chosen a light blue summer dress, the fabric swaying around her legs as she moved. She’d even bought a new pair of cowboy boots, a nod to the local style, and felt a little thrill at how they clicked against the ground as she walked. She was trying to fit in with the laid-back yet distinctly Texan vibe of the town, and from the friendly nods and smiles she received, she figured she was doing a decent job. 

The event was held at a large open field, which had been transformed into a lively fairground. There was a race track with wooden horses where kids lined up eagerly for their turn, a children’s rodeo that drew cheers and laughter from the crowd, lasso-throwing contests, and a variety of stalls offering everything from smoked brisket to homemade pies. The high school cheerleaders were busy running around in their uniforms, selling tickets for the upcoming football game, their energy infectious as they chattered and laughed, adding to the festive atmosphere. 

Y/N wandered through the crowds, her camera slung around her neck, capturing the vibrancy of the day. She photographed the wooden horses mid-race, the concentrated faces of children trying to lasso a wooden calf, and the rows of colorful stalls filled with local treats. Everywhere she looked, there were moments worth preserving. 

As she scanned the scene for her next shot, she spotted someone who immediately caught her eye. Dressed in all denim—jeans, a button-up shirt, and a well-worn cowboy hat—a man stood at the lasso-throwing area, his tall frame and broad shoulders making him stand out even in the crowd of similarly dressed locals. He had a short, neatly kept beard that added a rugged edge to his features, and as he moved, there was a calm confidence in his every gesture. 

Y/N raised her camera, zooming in slightly, and watched through the lens as he skillfully threw the lasso, effortlessly roping the target. There was something about him that made him different from the countless other men she had seen that day, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. Maybe it was the ease with which he carried himself or the quiet intensity in his expression as he focused on the task at hand. 

She snapped a few shots, capturing the moment as the lasso looped perfectly around the wooden steer. As she lowered the camera to check the images, she noticed him glance in her direction. Their eyes met briefly, and she felt a small jolt of surprise when he nodded and smiled, acknowledging her presence. There was a warmth in his smile, a subtle charm that seemed to suggest he was used to being watched but wasn’t bothered by it. 

Just as Y/N was about to return the smile, Samantha popped up beside her, nearly startling her. 

“That’s my dad,” Samantha said with a grin, clearly proud. “He wins at the lasso game every time. It’s not even fair, really—he’s been doing this since he was a kid, and owning a cattle ranch doesn’t hurt.” 

Y/N looked back at Jensen—now realizing he was Samantha’s father—throwing another perfect lasso. It suddenly made sense why he seemed so familiar, even though she hadn’t met him properly before. 

“So, he’s an expert, huh?” Y/N replied, watching as Jensen accepted a small prize from the booth operator with a casual wave of his hand. 

“Yeah,” Samantha said, rolling her eyes playfully. “He’s good at just about everything when it comes to ranch stuff. Mom always said he could rope the moon if he wanted to.” 

Y/N chuckled, amused by the image that conjured. She turned her camera back to the scene, snapping a few more pictures of the other contestants, but she found herself glancing back at Jensen every so often, intrigued by the man who seemed so much a part of this town yet somehow stood out to her in a way she couldn’t quite explain. 

“Want to meet him?” Samantha asked, noticing Y/N’s lingering gaze. 

Y/N hesitated for a moment. “Sure, why not?” she finally said, feeling a mix of curiosity and something she couldn’t quite name. 

Samantha led the way through the crowd, weaving between people who greeted her with familiar smiles and nods. As they approached, Jensen looked up, his green eyes bright with recognition as he saw them coming. He tipped his hat slightly, a polite gesture that felt almost old-fashioned but perfectly in character. 

“Dad, this is Y/N,” Samantha said, introducing them with a wide smile. “She’s the photographer I told you about—the one helping with the school paper.” 

Jensen extended a hand, his grip firm but gentle. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’ve seen you around town a few times. You’re doing some good work with that camera.” 

“Thank you,” Y/N replied, shaking his hand and noticing how warm and strong it felt. “I’ve been enjoying capturing the spirit of the town. It’s a lot different from New York.” 

Jensen smiled, a touch of humor in his green eyes. “I figured you were a city girl.” 

Y/N raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “What makes you say that?” 

He glanced down at her new cowboy boots, then back up at her with a playful grin. “Let’s just say you’ve got a bit of a city way of dressing.” 

Before Y/N could respond, a group of men called out to Jensen from across the fairground, waving him over. Jensen tipped his hat to Y/N with a slight, respectful nod. “If you’d excuse me, ma’am,” he said, his voice carrying a gentle Texas twang, before turning and heading toward the group. 

Y/N watched him go, her mind still turning over his words. She glanced down at her boots, wondering what exactly he had meant. “What’s wrong with my boots?” she asked, turning to Samantha, a hint of confusion in her voice. 

Samantha burst into laughter, the sound light and teasing. “Nothing’s wrong with them, I promise,” she said, grinning at Y/N’s puzzled expression. “My dad’s just old-fashioned. He can tell those boots are brand new—he’s used to seeing people in well-worn work boots around here. He wasn’t being serious, just poking a little fun.” 

Y/N let out a relieved laugh, realizing that Jensen’s comment had been more about teasing than criticism. “So, it’s not about me looking out of place?” 

Samantha shook her head, still smiling. “Not at all. It’s just his way of saying he noticed. You’re doing just fine—better than fine, actually. You’re fitting in more than you think.” 

Y/N smiled, feeling reassured. “Thanks, Samantha. I guess I’ll just have to break these boots in a little more.” 

“Yeah, maybe do a little more walking in them,” Samantha said with a wink. As the day wore on, Y/N continued to move through the fairground, her camera clicking away to capture the vibrant energy and joyful moments of the event. The wooden horses, the excited kids, the colorful stalls—all provided ample opportunities for great shots. Yet, despite her best efforts to focus on everything happening around her, her attention kept drifting back to Jensen. 

He seemed to have an effortless way of commanding attention, even when he wasn’t actively posing. His tall, broad-shouldered frame and confident, relaxed demeanor made him stand out naturally. Y/N found herself repeatedly drawn to him, her lens finding him almost instinctively, as if he was the centerpiece of her day. 

Jensen moved through the fairground with an easy grace, interacting with people, participating in games, and generally embodying the spirit of the event. Each time Y/N looked through her camera, he was there—his presence somehow adding a special quality to every shot. His laughter was infectious, his expressions genuine, and his movements so natural that he seemed to glide through the day with an effortless charm. 

As she followed him around, Y/N couldn't help but feel a flutter of butterflies in her stomach. It was as though each snapshot of Jensen was more than just a photograph—it was a moment captured in time that held a kind of magic. Her favorite shot of the day came when Jensen was in the middle of a hearty laugh, his head thrown back, his eyes sparkling with joy. His perfect white teeth gleamed against the backdrop of the fairground, and there was something so incredibly captivating about the way he looked in that moment. The raw, unguarded joy he exuded made the photograph feel alive, brimming with the essence of the day. 

Y/N looked at the image on her camera’s display, and her heart skipped a beat. The way Jensen's laughter was caught mid-air, the way his eyes crinkled with mirth—it was as if she had managed to capture a piece of his soul, and it was both thrilling and slightly unnerving. The fluttering in her stomach intensified, and she found herself smiling, unable to shake the feeling that there was something profoundly special about this moment. 

As the sun began to set, casting a warm, golden light over the fairground, Y/N knew that this day would be one she wouldn’t forget. Jensen had unwittingly become the focal point of her photographs, and she couldn't deny that he had also become the focal point of her thoughts too.  

-------

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Tag list:-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read! If anyone feels like you're tagged too much, also let me know please. :)

@kr804573

@nancymcl

@suckitands33

@mostlymarvelgirl

@globetrotter28

@jackles010378

@hobby27

@call-me-mrs-winchester

@cevansbaby-dove

@winchesterwild78

@deans-baby-momma

@yvonneeeee

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗞 𝗡𝗢𝗪

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where it's Y/N's wedding day, but Matt isn't the groom. During the ceremony, an act of impulse on the boy's part changes the fate of everything.

WARNING: Slightly angst, but with a happy ending!

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The cool orange color of the corner lamp lightly illuminated the walls of Matt's room, painting the room with a serene aura. He was still in his bed, mentally preparing himself to get up and start the day slowly, his thoughts still hazy from sleep, a low voice reminding him of the tasks he had to do - writing the script for the next video, answering emails, and posting his collaboration with Prada.

For a moment, he allowed himself to bask in the feeling of tranquility, but that peace was abruptly interrupted when the sound of his bedroom door slamming open echoed through the walls.

Matt turned abruptly to the source of the sound, frowning and opening his mouth to curse whoever had barged into his room so suddenly, but the words caught in his throat when he saw Nick standing there, his eyes wide and his hand holding an envelope tightly.

"Nick, what the fuck?" Matt's voice sounded hoarse and rough from lack of use as his eyes traveled from Nick's face to the envelope and back again.

"Matt... It's from Y/N." Nick muttered apprehensively.

The boy sat down abruptly on the mattress when he heard his ex name, watching Nick slowly approaching and leaving the envelope on the crumpled comforter that covered the younger boy's legs.

"I don't know what it's about, I just found it on the floor in front of the front door."

Matt took the paper delicately, a feeling of apprehension growing in his chest as he recognized Y/N's elegant handwriting on the sender, his own name, and his brother's in the recipient field. His mind wondered why she had sent that, who even sends letters through mail in 2024?

With shaking hands, he tore open the envelope and removed the paper inside, barely noticing Nick's silent exit. His heart sank when he noticed that it wasn't just any paper. It was an invitation... a wedding invitation.

The words printed in embossed letters and in gold color on high quality paper, announcing the day she would become the wife of her current boyfriend, or rather, fiancé.

An overwhelming mix of emotions hit him head-on. Matt gasped, holding the invitation as if it were a precious artifact, but also a knife that pierced his heart. He could feel the bitter taste of regret filling his mouth as his memories with Y/N ​​flooded his mind.

He found himself transported back to the happy days when they were together, each moment shining in vivid colors before his eyes. The shared laughter, the hugs on cold or hot nights, the whispered promises of eternal love... Everything seemed so close, and yet so far away.

Tears threatened to flood his eyes as he struggled to process the magnitude of the situation. He bitterly regretted letting Y/N go, letting his insecurities and fears ruin what they shared. He knew he had no one else to blame but himself for his own loneliness.

A violent internal struggle unfolded within the boy. A part of him wanted to throw the invitation through the window, refuse to witness the ceremony that would tear him up even more inside. But another part, a stubborn and masochistic part, insisted on attending, as if seeing Y/N unite with another man was the punishment he deserved for his failures.

Matt clutched the invitation tightly in his hand, lightly crumpling the expensive paper, feeling fragile and broken. Every beat of his heart echoed with the weight of a decision he didn't know if he was capable of making. He felt the weight of loss pressing down on his shoulders, the pain of a wound that never seemed to heal.

Silent tears streamed down his cheeks as he fought his emotions in turmoil. He loved Y/N more than anything in this world, and even though he had already lost her the day he saw her walk through his bedroom door for the last time, he still held on to the narrow thread of hope he had in him, but now he was in danger of losing her forever, and it tormented him to the core of his soul.

With an anguished sigh, Matt finally let out a choked sob, pressing his hand against his mouth to muffle the ugly sounds, quickly glancing at the door left ajar by Nick. The last thing he wanted was to worry his brothers.

He knew he had no choice but to face the painful reality that Y/N would move on without him. He wished, with all his being, that things could have been different, that he could go back in time and right the wrongs he had made.

But now, all he could do was accept the invitation he held in his trembling hand and prepare to witness the love of his life being given to someone else.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Matt took a deep breath as he, along with his brothers, entered the imposing church where Y/N's wedding was about to take place. The decor details seemed to jump out, a lush fusion of fresh flowers - Y/N's favorite - and delicate fabrics, creating a fairytale atmosphere, exactly as he and Y/N had fantasized about for so many nights.

The rows of chairs were lined up precisely, each adorned with a floral arrangement. Matt watched the carefully planned details, feeling a pang in his heart.

As he rotated his gaze around the space, his eyes met Y/N's parents accompanied by her fiancé, who was already looking back at the triplets. Matt's eyes widened slightly when he noticed the man open a gentle smile towards him, a strange feeling of resignation and envy flooding him almost automatically.

Victor, who he saw so much of only through Y/N's social media, was tall, with slightly curly brown hair that shone in the light, and vibrant blue eyes that seemed to reflect genuine joy. Matt couldn't help but notice how he perfectly fit the stereotype of the type of man Y/N always seemed to prefer - an observation that left a sour taste in his mouth.

The boy wondered if Y/N really had a specific type or if it was just a coincidence that he and her fiancé shared similar characteristics.

He forced himself to look away, his mind a mess of conflicting emotions and his heart screaming that he should just turn around and go back home. With a resigned sigh, Matt followed his brothers as they found their assigned seats.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Matt's heart was in turmoil as he anxiously awaited the long-awaited moment of the bride's entrance. His eyes darted nervously around the church, his breath caught in his throat as he tried to control the flood of thoughts that threatened to consume him.

And then, as if time had slowed down, soft music filled the air, announcing Y/N's arrival. His breath seemed to catch as he saw her appear in the aisle, a glimpse of ethereal beauty in her stunning wedding dress. His heart was filled with a mix of joy and pain when he saw her so perfect.

Matt thought he would only see her in a wedding dress on their own wedding day.

Tears threatened to blur his vision as he fought to hold them back. He wanted to scream from the rooftops and release all his pent-up anger, but his words were lost in the void of his silent anguish.

"Matt, are you okay?" Chris asked beside him in an almost muted whisper, only receiving a short nod in return.

As she approached the altar, Matt felt his leg begin to bounce involuntarily in a mixture of anxiety and hesitation. Every step she took seemed to sound like an echo in his own broken heart, a constant reminder of what could have been but would never be.

He had to do something.

When Y/N finally reached the foot of the altar, Matt clenched his right hand into a fist tightly, his teeth biting his thumbnail in a desperate attempt to contain whatever was wanting to come out. He watched with a lump in his throat as she and Victor turned face-to-face, everything sounding muffled against his ears.

He had to.

Every word spoken was like a knife in his heart. He wondered if Y/N could feel the intensity of his emotions, if she could see the love and sadness mixed in his eyes as her own eyes circled the room momentarily, carrying a mix of nervousness and anxiety.

Silence hung in the church, heavy and dense, as the priest finished his solemn last words.

"If anyone has anything to say against this union, speak now or forever remain silent." Finally came the phrase so feared and long awaited.

The priest's voice echoed through the sacred space, resounding off the walls as the guests held their breath. Matt felt his heart hammer in his chest, almost hearing it in his ears, a tumultuous mix of fear and determination swirling in his mind.

He needed to.

And then, before he could think twice, before he could stop the urge that welled up inside him, Matt stood up. His body acted on instinct, his chair scraping with a harsh sound against the floor at the abrupt movement of his body.

The loud sound cut through the silence like a knife, causing the guests to turn to his figure in shock, eyes wide in horror. The priest raised his eyebrows in surprise, his words frozen on his lips as he watched the scene unfold before his eyes.

Victor, Y/N's fiancé, looked at Matt with flaming hatred in his eyes, a completely different expression than the one he displayed moments before the ceremony. He knew who Matt was, and he knew Matt would mean trouble for him.

But Matt ignored all of this. At that moment, all that mattered was Y/N. His blue eyes brimming with fear and love looked intensely into Y/N's shocked ones, who seemed frozen in place.

"I-I..." Y/N began, clearing her throat and turning to face the sea of ​​guests. "I need a moment."

And then, without waiting for a response or further intervention, Y/N got down from the altar and turned around, starting to run towards the back of the church. Her footsteps echoed in the silence with the click of her high heels against the floor, each beat of her heart matching the frantic pace of her run.

"Matt!" Nick called through gritted teeth, quickly glancing at the people around him as he raised his right hand, holding Matt's wrist tightly. "Sit down, now."

Matt barely had time to process what was happening before his instincts took over again, pulling his wrist from Nick's grip quickly. He ignored the confused murmurs of the guests accompanying him as he ran after Y/N.

He had to reach her, had to find a way to explain himself, to convince her to listen. He couldn't let her go without a fight, not after everything he had risked.

Matt's feet pounded the church floor as he ran, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He barely noticed Victor's screams echoing behind him, barely noticed the dirty looks that glared at his back as he chased the only love he'd ever had. All that mattered was reaching Y/N, holding her hand, and never letting it go again.

Matt pushed open the back doors of the church hard, his mind spinning in a whirlwind as he prepared to face whatever was on the other side.

He was expecting the worst - a furious face, eyes full of rage, cutting words thrown his way. But what he found was the complete opposite of that.

Y/N's figure was there, just a few feet away. She held her heels in one of her hands, her veil was lying on the floor next to her bare feet, and her beautiful dress was rumpled, but there was a huge smile on her face, and her eyes showed an intense relief.

Matt frowned in confusion, his own mind in turmoil as he tried to process what was happening. The boy expected her to confront him, to blame him for interrupting her perfect day, for destroying her dreams. But not that.

Before he could do anything, Y/N dropped her heels onto the delicate veil before running towards him, her steps quick and purposeful. She stopped before Matt, her eyes shining with an intensity that left him speechless.

Without hesitation, the girl raised her hands towards his face, cupping his red, hot cheeks, her fingers touching his skin with a tenderness that made him shiver. And then, so suddenly, she pulled him towards her, her lips meeting his in a deep, desperate kiss.

Matt felt the world disappear around him as he gave himself over to the gesture, all his questions slipping from his mind, his hands finding their place around Y/N's waist almost automatically, as if it was marked into his soul.

He could feel the warmth of her body against his, the soft touch of her lips against his own, and Matt had never, until that moment, truly understood how much he missed that.

Matt's lips gently parted from Y/N's seconds later, his eyes remained fixed on her face, as if trying to decipher a complex riddle. He felt the euphoria of the moment still pulsing through his veins, but a sense of confusion was still mixed with the intensity of it all.

"I... I don't understand." The boy murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to find the right words to express the whirlwind of thoughts that assaulted him.

Y/N shook her head, a soft smile still playing on his lips. She pulled away slightly, maintaining eye contact with Matt.

"I know this is all very confusing." She began, her voice soft and comforting. "But I'm so happy, Matt. So happy and relieved that you're here."

Matt's confusion deepened even further as he took in her words. He couldn't understand how she could be so serene and happy after everything that happened and what he did with her special date.

The boy felt a weight on his shoulders and an immense desire to look behind his shoulders towards the door, feeling as if someone would open it at any moment and expose them to the public.

"When I sent the invitation." Y/N continued. "I felt scared. Scared that you wouldn't show up, that you would choose not to be here. But deep down, I knew you would come. I knew you wouldn't let me down."

Her words hit the brunette like a wave of comforting heat. He watched her intensely, his racing heart overflowing with love as goosebumps ran through his whole body.

"Don't get me wrong, Victor is an amazing guy, but... Matt, he's not you. He never was. No one will ever be you." She unbuttoned her lace sleeves before rolling them up, ripping off the flower that was attached to the fake belt at her waist and throwing it over her heels.

She really was something.

"Y/N-"

"Run away with me?

Y/N's suggestion left Matt speechless. His body remained static as his eyes stared at her, his orbs filled with shock and disbelief. He never imagined that she could suggest something so radical.

"Matt, please, we have to go. Run away with me."

A smirk slowly grew onto Matt's face before he took her right hand in his, pulling her close tightly and picking her up in one quick movement, his right arm supporting her back and his hand gripping her waist tightly, while his left arm held her legs beneath her knees, pressing her against his body.

A squeal escaped Y/N's throat, who wrapped her arms around his neck and placed her hands on the back of his head tightly, hiding her face in the crook of his shoulder, a loud laughter passing through her lips.

"You're unbelievable, pretty girl... Come on, let's go."

So glad you were around when they said: Speak Now.

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @bellasfavbisexual @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @soso-scarlettolivia @maryx2xx @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @iammattswife

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[just-a-girl-who-wrytes]

Omg I just accidently found your blog and I'm so freaking happy, cause there are not enough writer who writes for Deacon 😭 unfortunately I'm super obsessed with him, with an unhealthy amount of fic ideas in my brain xD so I give it a try and send you one of those, hopefully jot annoying you with this (or with my shitty English, it's not my first language, so I'm sorry).

Well buckle up for my request:

Reader is a new Swat member and instantly everybody loves her, with her bubbly friendly self. She's bonding great with her teammates and especially her and Deacon grow super close (they develop feelings for each other but don't want to tell the each other afraid to ruin their friendship, so their feelings stay hidden). When one day a case goes sideways and it leaves her injured (maybe a concussion or something like that) Deacon blames himself for her injury and the next days he distances himself from her, cause he thinks that it is unhealthy for him to have such deep feelings for her and him constantly worrying for her wellbeing. She notices his change of behavior and she's super sad. He starts to being unfriendly to her and being a little bit of an ass?! Even alerting the other members with his behavior. The whole situation is taking a toll on her and she is starting to effecting not only her poor heart but also her health. (so maybe she falls sick, but keep it from her teammates especially Deacon, cause she thinks that after her injury during a case he thinks of her as not capable or something like that). That is until one day she doesn't show up to work which very uncommon for her, cause she's always on time and the first one at the station. They're all worrried and Hondo tells Deacon that he has to drive to her apartment. Well he tries to refuse and send Stress but Hondo insists, so Deacon drives to her apartment. He finds her suffering from a very high fever..... So maybe with a happy ending like Deacon regrets his shitty behavior, she instantly cries when she recognizes him in her feverish state, asking him why he hates her suddenly, which is now breaking his heart. He cares for her and nurses her back to health, or at first tries to bring her fever down. Later he confesses why he was an asshole.

Soooorry it's so long. There's so pressure for you to write this. Maybe you just want to use some ideas? Well I would be so happy.

Please take care lovely

Here you go, hope you enjoy!

“Nice!” Luca exclaimed as the team watched you send rounds down range from your firearm.

With the increase in officer related shootings, LAPD had decided to provide each team a SWAT medic and you were the newest member of 20 squad. 

“Who knew girls can shoot?” You heard Deacon asked. You turned to playfully scowl at him and noticed him wink at you. 

“Better watch it, Kay, or I’ll show you just how good I really am.” 

You had been a part of the team for just over two months and they were the best guys you had ever worked with in your career. You truly became a part of their family – you had their backs and they had yours. There was one that was different though. 

David Kay. 

You had noticed him watching you on more than one occasion, stealing winks from you, sharing small, flirtatious smiles. You weren’t sure if your attraction to him was mutual or not, but if you had to guess, you would say yes. However, you didn’t want to complicate anything by dating one of your teammates and you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had developed with Deacon. You assumed Deacon adopted the same mindset because he never brought it up either. 

However, that didn’t mean your flirting with each other fell on blind eyes. 

The entire team noticed it and often gave you both shit over it. 

You both were in the middle of denying another teasing round of friends with benefits accusations from your teammates when you were dispatched to a school shooting. 

The mood immediately sobered up as all of you put on your gear and grabbed your bags and firearms. The ride to the school in Black Betty was quiet minus updates from Hondo. 

“Stay liquid, guys,” He told the team as you pulled up on scene. 

There were multiple reports of injured children inside of the school. 

This call was all yours. 

It was going to be your job to go inside and assess each injured child to see how critically injured they were. It was your team’s job to protect you while you did that. You were going in without any knowledge of where the shooter was, but you knew if you had children, you would want someone to go in and save your baby. You swallowed your fear and prepared to do your job. 

You got out of the armored truck and took your spot in the middle of your team. You slowed your breathing down to get your heart rate under control and keep your emotions in check. 

Deacon made sure that he stayed close to you as you entered the school. He knew his teammates would have your back too, but he felt… differently about you. He cared about you a lot. He had quickly fallen for your smile and your personality. You didn’t let the team’s banter intimidate you one bit from the start. You were quick and witty with your playfulness with them. You were smart as hell when it came to medicine and you had proven to be a solid member of the SWAT team in training exercises and on calls you had run together. He wanted so badly to ask you out to dinner, but he wasn’t willing to change the dynamic of the team by adding a relationship to the mix. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be protective over you – whether you noticed it or not. 

That was why Deacon had taken it so personally when you were knelt down, applying a tourniquet to a fourth-grade student’s leg and got shot by the hidden gunman. His team covered him while he immediately turned to you to make sure you were okay. The round had struck your vest, but you knew it had broken ribs. The pain you felt in your side was unmistakable. Regardless, you threw your body over the child’s to protect her from the gunfire that ensued. Deacon and Luca dragged you both behind a desk behind a wall in a classroom. 

“Are you okay?” Deacon asked without taking his aim from the door way. 

“We’ve got to get her out of here.” You ignored his question as you continued to try and stop the little girl’s bleeding. 

Your voice was forced and you were breathy. 

“I asked if you were okay,” Deacon said angrily. 

“I’m fine.” You retorted. 

You soon heard Tan’s voice over the radio that the shooter had been neutralized. You didn’t know if there was more than one shooter, but didn’t see any signs of one so far. When you got the clear from Hondo, you radioed for another team to come in and get the girl out and get her to a hospital. Once she was safely removed, you resumed your formation in the middle of the team to continue to clear the school building. Deacon could tell you were injured because you didn’t shoulder your firearm correctly, but he didn’t see any blood so he let it go. He was pissed off at you for not stopping and going to get help yourself, but he was even more pissed off at himself for not seeing the gunman before he shot at you. 

It took two hours to clear the rest of the school and stabilize the remaining children. By the time you were done, you were visibly diaphoretic and short of breath. You could hardly manage three words without stopping to catch your breath. 

“20-David to command,” Deacon radioed, “We need an EMS unit to our location, we have a team member who needs to be checked out.” 

You were in pain, you couldn’t breathe, and you were pissed off that Deacon asked for EMS without consulting you first. 

“Why did you do that?!” You managed to asked through clenched teeth. “These children need those paramedics.” You took a few shallow breaths, “Not me! Cancel. Them.” 

If looks could kill, your sergeant would be the one who needed a medic unit, not you.

“Officer,” Deacon said sternly, “You look like hell and you cannot breathe.”

You started to open your mouth to cut him off, but he started speaking loudly again.

“Now, I suggest you shut up and listen to your sergeant. I am not the one who takes orders from you.” 

His harsh words hit you harder than the bullet hit your ballistic vest and left you just as speechless. David had never been so disrespectful to you. If the paramedics hadn’t arrived to assess you, you would have turned in your badge right there. You knew the rest of the team had noticed as well because they were all silent which pissed you off even more. Where was your support?

The paramedics tried helping you onto the stretcher, but you refused it. Despite not being able to speak for being short of breath. You held onto the stretcher for support and walked to the ambulance. By the time you finally made it outside to the ambulance, you were physically unable to get into the ambulance because you were hurting so bad and so short of breath. The EMS providers finally convinced you to get onto the stretcher and they were able to load you into the truck. 

When you arrived to the ER, you were taken to a trauma room due to the fact that you had technically been shot. Your chest x-ray revealed a collapsed lung due to the broken ribs. 

The rest of the team finished debriefing before being cleared to leave for the day. Hondo met Deacon in the quiet locker rooms since most of everyone else had already left. 

“Deac…” Hondo paused, knowing he needed to tread carefully, “What was up back at the school? I have never heard you speak to anyone like that – especially one of our teammates.” 

Deacon slammed his locker shut. 

“Hondo, now ain’t the time, brother.”

The lieutenant raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, I won’t press, but I do ask that you consider an apology. It was unwarranted today. We all performed immaculately given the circumstances.”

“No, Hondo. No. We did not all perform immaculately.” His tone was biting. 

Deacon walked passed Hondo and left the locker rooms. He left the station and threw his duffel bag in the backseat of his truck. He climbed in, started it, and drove to a nearby lake that off the road and would likely be deserted after dark on a week night. He parked in the dark and slammed his fists against the steering wheel in frustration. 

Tears filled his eyes as he mentally kicked himself in the ass for missing the shooter that injured you today. He didn’t fight the tears as they spilled down his cheeks. What had gotten into him? Why were you different? Why was he so upset? Why did you getting injured bother him so badly? You were okay and you were expected to make a full recovery according to Hicks. Where along the line had he developed feelings and why was he so afraid of talking to you about them?

You spent 6 days in the hospital, 4 of those with a chest tube before being discharged home. During your entire hospital stay, Deacon had not been by to see you once despite daily visits from the rest of your teammates. It made you mad, but most of all, it hurt your feelings. You really liked you sergeant – or you thought that you did. His actions since you had been injured spoke louder than any words that could have been said. 

Luca and Chris were there to take you home and help you get settled. They carried your bags in and Chris helped you unpack your things while Luca cooked supper for the three of you. Chris helped you remove your bra so you could put on a loose, comfy t-shirt. Being the only females on the squad left you two comfortable around each other. 

“That is one hell of a bruise, babe.” She said as she looked at your black and purple side. 

You had to agree – the entire left side of your torso was bruised. It looked awful. Thankfully, the doctors had been able to help manage your pain with narcotics. 

“I’m glad it finally looks worse than it feels… Which is saying a lot because it still hurts like hell.” 

You slipped on a pair of sleep shorts and made your way back into your kitchen with Chris. 

You took a pain pill and joined your teammates in your living room to eat the spaghetti that Luca made. 

“Thank you so much for taking care of me guys,” You said several hours later as you walked Luca and Chris to your door. 

“That’s what we’re here for, love,” Luca said, pulling you into a gentle hug. 

You kissed his cheek, “Supper was delicious, Dom. Thank you times a million.” 

He returned the kiss to your cheek and Chris pulled you in for a hug. 

“Call us if you need anything?” 

You smiled at her after the hug, “You know I will.” 

You settled onto your couch with a glass of wine. You knew the alcohol and narcotic wasn’t the smartest elixir, however, you needed to mask more than your physical pain. 

You couldn’t get Deacon off your mind and your heart had yet to stop hurting. Your emotional pain screamed much louder than your physical pain. 

“Dammit!” You heard through clouded consciousness. “What the fuck?” 

You felt yourself being picked up and carried to your bed. You recognized a familiar cologne but quickly disregarded the scent and winced at the pain in your ribs before drifting back off to sleep. 

You woke up the next morning nearly in tears again as you entered a coughing spell. You managed to get out of bed and make your way to the kitchen where your pain pills were, but you were scared shitless by a man sitting at your kitchen table. As soon as your heart began racing with fear, the fear subsided, realizing that it was Deacon sitting inside of your home. 

“Jesus Christ! What the fuck, David?” You held your chest with one hand and braced your broken ribs with the other. 

He didn’t answer you. 

You ignored his silence and took your morning pain medication. 

“Ya know… I said the same thing last night when I came over and found you unconscious on your couch. So, I can also say, what the fuck? What were you thinking?” Deacon’s voice grew steadily louder as he stood up and turned to you. “Pain pills and alcohol?”

You were angry. “Something to make this shit stop hurting,” You spat as you snatched up the side of your shirt to reveal your black and blue torso. 

You could tell the extent of your injuries caught Deacon off guard. His facial expression softened and he didn’t respond. 

You let go of your shirt, letting it fall back down to your waist and continued fixing yourself a glass of water to take your pain pill with. You took your medicine and continued to ignore your sergeant as you turned your back to him to get the milk out of your refrigerator to fix yourself a bowl of cereal. His hand stopped yours mid-air reaching for your cabinet. He gently held your wrist with one hand and you felt the edge of your shirt being lifted again. He let go of your hand, staring at the bruising that covered you. You could sense his demeanor soften. 

There was a long silence as he took in your injuries. 

“I’m so sorry…” He whispered. 

The tone in his voice felt like a hug to your soul. 

“Deacon-” You turned around to face him. 

“No, listen to me,” he interrupted you. “This…” He grazed his fingertip down your side, “is all my fault.”

The confusion was written all over your face. 

“I should have seen that bastard before he ever had a chance at you.” 

You began shaking your head but you weren’t quite sure what to say. 

“You’ve been an asshole to me ever since it happened, David, what the hell has changed now?” You were beginning to grow angry again. 

“Look, I am so, so sorry.” His voice was gentle. “I should have stopped that guy before he shot you. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like I did. I should have visited you in the hospital. You are a teammate and I failed you, but I really should have told you from the get-go that I have developed feelings for you.” He didn’t take a breath the entire time he spoke so you struggled to follow him, but his last sentence hit you like a ton of bricks. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Ever since you have been on the team with us, you have become more than just a teammate to me. Truthfully, I have liked you from the day that I met you and my attraction to you has only grown every single day. I like you so much more than just as a teammate. I would dare say that I am falling in love with you.” He slowly reached up to cradle your face with his hand, hesitant, wondering if you would allow him to touch you. 

You did. 

“I am so, so sorry that I have treated you so poorly this week – so wrong. It had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that I hate myself for not being able to protect you like I should have. I’ve been so afraid to let you know how I feel about you. I’m sorry I was more afraid of affecting the team than I was giving you the honesty that you deserve. Please, please forgive me.” 

He looked into your eyes as he nervously chewed on his bottom lip. 

“Deacon…” You said quietly, leaning into his hand caressing your jaw. 

He took a deep breath and continued, “If you don’t feel the same way, I understand, but I came over here last night to apologize and tell you all of this. When I found you passed out on the couch, barely responsive, it frustrated me. So, I stayed here last night to make sure you were okay. Please don’t be mad.” 

Silence fell between you while you considered how to respond. Given the emotions that you had worked through over the past week, going from feelings for your partner, to physical and emotional hurt, to anger towards David for not visiting, texting or calling, resentment towards yourself for having feelings towards David despite how cruel he had been to you with his absence while you had been hospitalized, you struggled to find any words.

Deacon watched you suffer through a week’s worth of feelings as he watched your eyes. You took a deep breath. 

He decided that you were taken too long to respond and if he didn’t act now, he never would. 

He leaned down and softly pressed his lips on yours. 

You instinctively closed your eyes and allowed David to kiss you. When you didn’t pull away, he parted his lips just enough to run his tongue tenderly along your bottom lip. You opened your lips, allowing him to kiss you deeper. You began to return the kiss when David went to place his hands on your waist, forgetting about your injuries. You stopped kissing him and winced. 

“God, I’m so sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay.” You whispered, your voice shaky. 

Deacon noticed the tears that trickled down your cheeks. 

He wiped them away with his thumbs and began apologizing to you again. 

You interrupted him with another kiss. You reached up and intertwined your fingers behind his head, softly rubbing his neck with your fingertips. He moaned quietly into the kiss. He grabbed your arm and squeezed it, needing to touch you, but being mindful of your injuries. You enjoyed the feeling of his tall, muscular body, towering over yours. You felt protected. 

“Deacon?” 

He pressed his forehead to yours, brushing a stand of hair behind your ear, “Mmhmm?”

“I love you.” 

"I love you too."

[pottersfia]

English is not my language, I apologize if there is something confusing

I need a dominant and rude reader with Theodoro. The reader finished a Quidditch match and they lost, she was very angry and retaliated by fucking him the way she loved her boyfriend. He was more than happy for you to use him and take control.

content/warnings: gryffindor!reader, smut ofc, language (duh), oral fem!receiving

word count: 493

ravenclaw was the bane of your existence in this very moment. as soon as the ravenclaw seeker caught the golden snitch, your blood was boiling. the walk back to the gryffindor locker room was excruciatingly tense as your teammates were either silent in disappointment or yelling on and on about the game.

after washing up and changing, you met your boyfriend, theodore nott, outside.

“hello, gorgeous.” he pulled you in and gave your forehead a kiss. theodore knew how much you hated losing, and he could practically sense what was coming next.

before he knew it, the two of you were in your room. theodore was sitting against the headboard of your bed while you were on his lap, kissing him as you rubbed yourself on his crotch. you removed your hand from his chest and reach down to feel his hard on through his pants.

“you’re so hard for me, theo. you know exactly what i need, huh?” you smiled at him and he slightly nodded as he let out soft moans.

“use me, amore mio.” he said. you lifted your shirt up and pulled it off, reaching back to remove your bra.

“that’s exactly what i plan on doing.” you replied. theodore could not keep his eyes off your chest as your tits were set free. he reached up to hold them and gave each a lick while looking up at you. you practically moan out loud from the view itself.

“i need you to make me cum, theo. use that pretty mouth of yours to make me feel good.” you gave him a small kiss on the lips and was met with his pleading eyes as you parted.

“yes, ma’am.” he flips your positions so you are laying against your pillows with him between your legs.

theodore pulls your pants and underwear off, revealing just how soaked you are. he kisses your inner thighs, staring at your cunt. you grow impatient and grab onto his hair. you pull him closer to your heat and he eagerly begins to suck and lick your clit. you let out a whimper of relief.

“just like that, theo.” you grip harder onto his hair making him squeeze your thighs and rub his crotch into the sheets.

you moan out as he uses his tongue to play with every part of your cunt. you open your eyes and see him slightly humping and completely zoned into eating you out.

“fuck, theo,” you pull his head up so he looks at you. he mouth his glistening with your wetness and it makes you even more wet if that’s possible. “i need to fuck you now.” he smirks at you and pulls his pants off.

you push him over and climb on top of him again. you reach out for his cock and stroke his pre cum all over it before sinking down, forcing all of him inside you.

the sting of your lose was long gone.

[weirdsht]

Die With A Smile - Cale/Reader

a/n: yes it's from the new lady gaga and bruno mars song. I noticed how reader always seems to be on the dying side in my fics so...

oh and I cried to the point of dehydration when I wrote this lol

tags: reader gender not specified, angst, tragedy, injuries, possibility of death, open ending

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist

Cale Henituse is such a selfish person. 

He continues to make unreasonable demands even when in this crucial moment.

Can’t he see the tears streaming down your face? Can’t he feel the sadness and grief overtaking your entire being?

Can’t he tell that his the reason why you’re in this state?

He probably could. His Cale Henituse after all, the ever so intelligent commander. The young master that can ensure everyone’s survival even in the direst situations.

Everyone but his.

And that’s why his so so selfish.

“Are you really telling me what to do after you’re gone?”

You cried as you felt his weak hand caress your cheeks. His hands are soft, pampered. Unlike his hands when he was Kim Rok Soo; rough and calloused. Not that it mattered much.

As long as it was him, the man you loved, it didn’t matter what his hand felt on your skin.

Cale Henituse chuckled lightly as if nothing was wrong. As if it was just a normal day in the underground villa where the two of you are lazing around.

It made you wish that Raon was here to smack some sense into him.

But alas he wasn’t. In fact, no one was around. It was just the two of you. No Raon, no Choi Han, no Eruhaben, no Rosalyn.

No way out of this damned cave.

“Stop laughing! I’m not joking!”

You couldn’t help but shout at him. You’re hands working hard to wipe every blood that comes out of his mouth, his eyes, his ears, his… 

His…

You can’t tell where the blood is coming from anymore. 

His blood-soaked hand continued to caress your cheek. Blood smearing everywhere, but you didn’t care. You can’t when you can feel his hand growing colder with each stroke.

Your lover was so selfish.

Oh so so so selfish.

“We’re both injured you dipship.”

“You have a higher chance of survival than me. I made sure of it.”

Despite everything, he still thought of you. Yet he failed to think of what you would be if he were gone. Never considered how grey your world would become without his unprompted snarky remarks.

“Is this your payback for me dying back on Earth?”

You laid down beside him. The ground was hard as you already sacrificed every piece of clothing you both had to make Cale comfortable. Everything was quiet and peaceful. If it weren’t for the fact that both of you were injured you would have relished in it.

“Maybe… perhaps I wanted you to know how I felt that day– Agh! Fuck it hurts!”

Cale tried to joke but was cut off because his entire body shook with pain once more.

Trying to ease his pain, you held his hand. Squeezing it as you felt your own injuries hurt and throb. Both of you found solace in each other in this dark cave.

“How are your injuries? Especially the one on your side?”

The redhead inquired as he felt your hold tightened. He was probably in so much more pain than you are. But still… still, he insists on prioritizing you.

“Better than your plate could ever be.”

You omitted the part where your side is still profusely bleeding. He didn’t need another stressor when he was already one foot on death’s door.

Turning over to your side hurt, especially since you’re now crushing your wound. But you did it, just so you could stare at his face for probably the last time in this life.

“I know that it’s bleeding. I’m not dumb, lie on your back.”

Silence lingered in the cave as you said nothing. It was enough to tell Cale that you’re not gonna follow.

For what felt like hours, the two of you simply held each other’s hand. Racing to see who will give in the their injuries first.

Cale rested his forehead on yours. It felt magnetic, or maybe that was just the sticky blood. You aren’t so sure, but it felt comforting.

That was until he opened his mouth once more.

“Hey what if I pass over my ancient powers—”

“Don't you fucking dare.”

Both of you could barely speak, yet here you are still arguing.

It reminded you of all the times the two of you bickered over the smallest things.

Then it reminded you of how this was probably the last time you would be able to do so.

Cale seems to have a similar line of thoughts as he shuts up once more. A faint smile was visible on his face, probably remembering the times you spent together.

You squeezed his arm as black spots began dancing around your vision. They looked tempting, they looked like they could relieve the pain you were feeling.

But you resisted, if Cale was fighting then you’re fighting too.

“Hey…”

Cale Henituse started again after a few minutes.

“I don’t like this pain anymore…”

“You never liked pain…”

The love of your life chuckled because it was true. His chuckle was weak, almost lifeless. You tried to laugh too but couldn’t for you know the implication of those words.

Cale Henituse is reaching his limits.

And honestly, you were reaching yours too.

But you didn’t like that. You want for the both of you to live, to get out of this hellish place together.

“...I don’t like this pain anymore too.”

“See… I told you haha…”

You had no choice but to admit it. You don’t know what will happen after this. Cale said he ensured for you to have a higher chance of survival but it’s been hours. It’s a miracle none of you have dropped dead yet.

Removing your forehead from Cale’s you lifted yourself a little. It was so that you could kiss him.

Again, for possibly the last time in this lifetime.

You used the strength you didn’t have to land that one last kiss. Both of you are weak, but passion dominates the kiss. As if each of you were trying to put in the last of your vitality in this kiss. Trying to give it to the other person so they can live longer.

“I love you.”

“You’re my everything.”

Cale and you simultaneously muttered as the kiss broke. You laid back down once more to try and ease the pain that flared up over your little stunt.

Everything hurts, there’s a puddle of blood underneath the two of you, Cale was slowly losing consciousness.

But the two of you had smiles on your faces.

Because the two of you got to experience your last moments in each other's arms.

That was better than dying alone in this cold and dark cave that held you hostage.

However, tears fell from your eyes as you witnessed Cale desperately blinking to stay awake. It was finally sinking in that at least one of you might die here.

Both of you might die here.

There were still so many things the two of you didn’t do. Both of you had promised to take the children on another shopping spree next week. You promised Lock and the other wolf children that you would teach them some martial arts you learned back on Earth. Cale promised Choi Han that they would replenish the flowers in the cemetery in Harris Village.

Though that last one might turn into Choi Han having to lower flowers for both of you.

“My love… my dearest…”

You were so weak that you couldn’t continue your words. But Cale didn’t need words for he could understand you from your breath alone, and you from his.

“Don’t… cry…”

How dare he have the nerve to say that when there are tears streaming down his face too?

Cale used the very last of his strength to bring your joined hands towards his lips. It was his last act of comfort. His last act of love.

“I love… y ou… I’ll… al way s  will…”

With that Cale Henituse’s eyes closed. His hand still holding onto yours. Still pressed against his almost blue lips.

“I… I lo ve… you too…”

Then you followed suit.

As you closed your eyes you think you could hear desperate screams break the silence in the cave. Desperate and anxious screams that oddly sounded like Eruhaben. Then mixed in it are tensed orders from someone who sounded similar to Alberu.

But you didn’t have any strength left to check if you were hallucinating. So you closed you eyes and gave into the abyss waiting to comfortably embrace you.

“...CALE!”

You shouted the moment you woke up. You think you sat up but you weren’t sure. Too disoriented from your injuries and painkillers. 

You think you could feel hands trying to make you lie back down again but you weren’t sure. Even if you were, you didn’t care.

Ignoring the hands trying to subdue you, you tried to feel around for Cale. There were bandages covering your eyes, you realise just now. It seemed like you’re lying down on a bed as it felt soft.

But those weren’t the things you were looking for.

“Cale!? Where’s Cale!?”

You shouted, despair and anguish evident in your voice. There’s a bunch of textures you can feel. Lots of scents you could smell. Tons of voices you could hear.

However, none of them were Cale’s.

Not a single one of them felt like your lover’s.

[russellsppttemplates]

Papa loves you so much, princess (Mick Schumacher)

Mick and Y/N find out their family is growing

Note: english is not my first language. this is another long piece that I hope you enjoy! I have been talking about this since January, so this is ver long overdue!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions reader's period and pregnancy

Getting up from the bed, you were fortunately quick enough to reach the bathroom in time to pour your guts out on the toilet, leaning on the toilet's side to support your torso. You were already up by the time Mick walked inside the bathroom, his sleepy expression with some traces of concern, "I told you I shouldn't have had that last piece of dessert", you pointed your finger at him through the mirror while you splashed your face, "you kept looking at it like you were a dog that was abandoned on the road, and then when I asked if you wanted my piece, I swear I saw happy tears in your eyes", your husband teased you, rubbing your back in a comforting manner, "do you want me to get you anything?", he asked, "just some cuddles in bed should do the trick", you muttered, allowing him to carry you back to the bed for a few more hours of hopefully uninterrupted sleep.

.

After leaving work, you stopped by the grocery store since you and Mick had noticed you were running low and running out of a few items at home, "we just had a snack break and the next part of the meeting should be the last one, I'm sorry I'm not helping you", he said over the phone while you browsed the aisles, "it's okay, handsome. You can still help me out here, though. I'm the cleaning section and I already have dish soap and the spray for the wooden cabinets, anything else?", you asked, earning a negative answer from him, "no, that's all I think. Next is the bathroom one, right? We are running low on toilet paper, and I used the last plaster yesterday. You only had one box of tampons in the cabinet so given that you are about to have your period, see if you need more of them", he pointed out, grabbing your attention to the matter. It should have started by now, you checked the date on your watch. And you were never late.

"We also need those tissues you keep on your bedside table, I used some today and I noticed they were the last ones", you could hear the smile on his voice, "alright, bub. I'll see you at home, have a good meeting!", you dialed off, grabbing the things he mentioned before looking at the pharmacy section.

You were never late, so it had to be this, right? Barring any other health situations, all of your symptoms aligned with pregnancy symptoms: you had been nauseous, feeling sick (and maybe it wasn't the stolen dessert's fault), you kept falling asleep whenever you rested on the sofa at home and Corinna had complimented the way one of your summer dresses fitted you, claiming that the neckline looked beautiful on you. And you and Mick had been trying, not with a whole calendar but rather just not using protection and seeing where it led you, and maybe this was it. Grabbing two boxes for the sake of it, you put them in your shopping trolley before heading to the till to pay for everything so you could go home.

When Mick got home, dinner was already on the table while you also fed Angie her own dinner, his kiss on your forehead coming with an apology for having arrived just in time for it, "no need to apologise, myself and miss Angie kept ourselves busy", you petted her soft fur before heading to wash your hands, joining Mick at the table and enjoying the meal.

"Does it taste okay to you?", you asked Mick, the taste of the broccoli seemingly off to you, "yes, tastes like this dish always tastes. It's very good, why do you ask?", he questioned, "I don't know, tastes funny to me", you mumbled, using your fork and knife to push the green vegetable to the edge of your plate, "maybe you got a bad one", he noted. That was another symptom, you thought, remembering when one of your friends couldn't eat her favourite meal while she was pregnant because she claimed it tasted different.

"Actually, I've been having a few symptoms, and they are all compatible with-", you were interrupted by your husband, "pregnancy", he smiled, seeing your brushed and stunned face, "I've noticed them too. You haven't told me you are craving your usual sweets when you're on your period, your boobs look even more amazing but the moment I so much as graze my finger in the skin you hiss because of the pain, you're not one to take naps during the day but the moment your head hits the pillow you're out like a light, and it's not common for you to have a bad stomach", he reasoned, making you blush even harder, "Why didn't you say something though?", you asked softly.

Mick shrugged his shoulders, "I just didn't want to burden you, or maybe I was keeping my hopes up and I didn't want to ruin yours, or point out something about your body like that, I'd never want to do so in a way that could be harmful", he answered apologetically, making your get up and go sit on his lap, "you could've said something, I wouldn't be offended, I think anyway, apparently pregnant women get mood swings so I can't speak for sure", you shrugged your shoulders, "truth is, I got some pregnancy tests at the store today because I also thought the same thing, but I wanted to do them with you", you looked at him, "but I don't know how to deal with this hope, like, I could just have some bug, but it is also true that everything checks out...", you fiddled and played with his fingers, "we take it step by step, if you'd like", your husband began softly, "and if you're not pregnant, we can keep trying", he explained, grabbing your hand once you nodded, heading to the bathroom so you could do the tests.

The plastic sticks were on the counter, Angie lying on the bathroom floor while Mick sat on the edge of the tub wirh you on his lap, "just a little bit more, liebling", he kissed the side of your head, "I'm sorry", you whispered, gaining his questioning look, "if I'm not pregnant, I got both of our hopes up for nothing", you explained, feeling his fingers lift your chin up to look into his eyes, "no need to apoligise, liebling. We just keep trying, it's not like we mind trying", he winked, looking at his watch to see the time was up, "I'm ready when you are", he said soflty.

You got up, picking up the sticks and seeing that both of them had the same information, "it won't be trying for a baby, but I've heard that sex while you're pregnant is a whole another level of sensations", you smiled at Mick, showing him the positive results.

"We're having a baby?", Mick mumbled, still not sure if he had grasped what you said in the right way, "we are, baby Schumacher is going to be here in nine months", you cried out, smiling as Mick cuddled you, his arms circling your before spinning you, "Angie! You're going to be a big sister!", Mick said once he put you down.

.

"I remember reading about these old wives' that help you guess the gender of the baby, and your grandmother did some on me for both of you and they turned out pretty accurate, I think", Corinna said as she sat in the outdoor sofa in front of you.

Since Gina was visiting, you and Mick decided to invite her and Corinna to spend the day together, Angie sitting next to her auntie while you sat next to Mick, "Oh, that would be fun!", Gina said as she straightened her back, picking up her phone so she could look them up on the Internet while Corinna started with the ones she knew, "they say that if you have a pointed belly towards the front, it means you're having a boy, and if you have a rounder bump and wider hips, it means it's a baby girl", she said, seeing Mick quickly ask for you consent before he helped you stand as he lifted your t-shirt, "what do we think? Pointy or not so much?", you did a turn around yourself, "I think it's rounder", Mick said earning a nod from his mother, "me too", Gina said, "but I've always had wider and rounder hips", you tried to reason as Gina wrote girl and a stick next to it to help count.

"The next one was that sweet cravings were sign of a baby girl, and salty cravings were sign of a baby boy", and Mick wiped the smug smile off his face, "I've been eating a lot of savoury stuff", you nudged your husband while his sister wrote down the tie.

Gina opened the lunar calendar on her phone while the four of you looked at all the details they asked for, "it's a girl according to this one!", Mick yelled way too close to your ear, "another point for babygirl then", you said, cuddling back to his side and giggling at everyone's exciting.

You saw and tested a couple more and, without realising it, you tried the last one without noticing it was the last, only for it to make another tie between babyboy and babygirl, "so that's it?", Mick said, not expecting it to turn out like this, "you just have to wait and see, you know, like all the people do because you can know for sure on the ultrasound", Gina teased him.

.

Once you got to the OB/GYN, Mick offered to go get you checked in at the desk while you went to find a comfortable chair to sit in while you waited, "final bet: are they a baby boy or a baby girl?", Mick said once he sat down with you, his hand holding yours to calm down your nervous thoughts. The ultrasounds always made you nervous, always wondering if everything was alright and as it should be, so having Mick there to support you and distract you was appreciated, "I think they're a baby boy, and he looks like his papa", you cradled his cheek on your palm, "I think they're a baby girl, and she has your kindness and empathy. It's just my gut feeling", he smiled, kissing the top of your head while he moved your conjointed hands to rest on your bump, feeling the baby kick, "not my chubby cheeks?", you playfully gasped, "what can I say? I think the Schumacher genes are much too strong", he teased you, looking up to the door when your name was called.

Entering the room and greeting your doctor, she asked you a couple of questions before asking you to lay on the little bed, the gel cold on your bump as she moved the wand around, "okay, everything looks good, strong heartbeat for little one and mother as well", she smiled, "I can see it. Do you still want to know?", she asked one last time, earning a nod from both you and Mick, "you're going to have a baby girl, congratulations!", she announced.

Your hand squeezed Mick's, feeling him press a kiss to the top of your head as you both looked at your baby on the screen, "we're having a little girl? Liebling, it's a little girl", he said, his eyes tearing up as he kept looking at the screen. Despite having feelings and guesses about it, neither of you didn't have any preference, feeling happy just with the idea that you were carrying a combination of you and Mick, but you couldn't help but get all goddy as you imagined Mick with a little daughter, knowing she would have him wrapped around her finger from the moment she was born. Even thinking now, she has him wrapped around her finger since you both found out you were pregnant.

"She looks good, there isn't anything that looks concerning. The measurements are all within the norm, everything looks good. Congratulations, mama and papa!", she smiled, "do you want copies to take home?".

While she went to get the slightly exaggerated number of copies of baby Schumacher (Mick wanted everyone that was important in his life to have one), your husband helped you clean the skin on your bump, "are you happy?", you looked at him, not seeing any signs of uneasiness but feeling his a little bit tense, "I am, liebling", he said, "but she's going to be here soon, you know? Little one is growing so fast, I can't believe we're past the half way point", he admitted, "I just don't want to disappoint any of you", he gulped, making you craddle his face with your hands, "My love, I know you and believe me, if how everything has gone until now is any indicator, we are going to have princess treatment", you smiled softly on an attempt to calm him, "thank you for sharing this with me, though. You can always share your worries with me, Mick", you finished, kissing his lips passionately, "I love you, liebling", he kissed you back, "and you little one, papa loves you so much, princess".