#that i doubt anything sex-related is gonna bother him

[fariesoiree]

caution! mdni 13k wrdz, best friend's bother!hobie x black fem! reader, hobie is twenty one, reader is 19, small town in the country, everyone knows everyone, a very brief moment of angst, reader is jealous, misunderstanding troupe (?) but quickly resolved, crybaby reader, kitchen sex w/people in the house, unprotected sex, fingering, handjob, cunnilingus, p in v sex, unprotected sex, facial, cum eating, open ending

miffy's note! this took me like two weeks to write which is so much faster than every other fic i’ve written in a while. i knowwww she has a lot of words but she is my baby and I hope everyone loves her as much as I do. enjoy <3 pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

there’s a waxy smell in the freshly opened soda shop, one that reminds you of the shiny tiles that line the floor of the high school you graduated from, the high school most people graduated from.

highbury high, smack dab in the middle of highbury hills. it’s the only high school for miles, operating on a set curriculum and generic uniforms. fits right in with the small town vibe.

“do you know what you want?” your long-time friend, maise, glances over at you. she’s a darling thing, curly hair braided into pigtails and tied with two white ribbons. her arms are crossed over her stomach, clothed in a white tank top just barely cropped. “there’s so many options, i can’t decide.”

you sniff, eyes glazing over the yellow tinted menu. your tongue skims over your lips, getting a taste of the vanilla flavored lip gloss. “i dunno. i don’t even think i want anything. i’m too nervous, like i’m gonna throw up.”

maise’s deer shaped eyes find yours in sympathetic understanding. “aw, honey. it’ll be okay. it’s been years, now. i doubt he even remembers.” her hands massage the kinks out your tense shoulders in a tight grip. “you were a kid, anyway.”

“yeah, maybe.” you offer a small smile in return. you find you’re disinterested in the menu, stomach rolling in its queasiness for the anticipated scenario. “i still don’t think i want anything. i don’t think i could keep it down.”

maise just shrugs and orders a rootbeer float for herself. she gets your anxiety but she’s never been the best at helping you through your emotions, even more so when she can’t relate. maise doesn’t have an older brother, not one with an attractive best friend that she used to have a crush on as a child.

with the acrylic, milkshake cup settled between the fingers of your friend, you both move towards the booths surrounding the perimeter of the retro-styled shop.

it’s really, very cute. quaint with pop music softly wafting from the speakers and a red, white, and blue theme consistent throughout. america’s sweetheart is what this place is known as, although you prefer to think it’s talking about a better, more ethical version of the country.

“you have to admit it’s kind of exciting, though.” despite your claims, maise still pops a second straw into the float and settles the cup between you. “i mean, your brother and hobie are coming home today and you haven’t seen hobie in like, two years. the last time anyone saw him was on graduation day, right? and then he packed up and left town. and your brother! he kept contact this whole time and didn’t tell anyone? doesn’t that bother you a little bit?”

you wait until she’s retreated to grab the straw between your thumb and pointer finger and tap a long, drawn out sip. the sugary sweetness does nothing to quell your nerves but it gives you time to come up with a response. “mm, not really. hobie is quen’s friend. plus, everyone knew he was gonna skip town. he didn’t like it here and he made that very clear.”

although your words convey otherwise, there’s a small seed of discomfort in your tummy. it would have been nice to keep you in loop, especially since you were under the impression that you and hobie were somewhat acquainted with each other. after all, he’s been good friends with quentin since elementary school and has known you for just about the same amount of time.

“okay but you’re not even curious? not even a little?” maise tilts her head inquisitively, lips drawn in a pout. “hobie is coming home after being gone for two whole years and you don’t care at all.”

“i didn't say i don’t care, mai. i do care and it's nice that he’s stopping by for a visit but let’s be serious, it’s hobie. in all the years we’ve known him, when has he ever committed to anything?” you turn your gaze towards your baby pink nails, shiny and just long enough to clack against your phone when you text. “i don’t want you to get excited over a summer romance that hasn’t even happened and won’t happen. we’re friends and barely that. his loyalty is with quen.”

you can feel the change in the atmosphere the longer you sit in silence. you’re hesitant to look her in the eyes and find a sudden interest in the condensation trickling down the side of the glass.

“uh huh. so if you feel all of that, why are you nervous? you don’t like hobie anymore, and he owes you nothing. what’s the problem then?” she rests her cheek in the palm of her hand, supported by the elbow resting on the table.

instead of answering her question, your hand smacks down against the table. it echoes in the empty room, filled by only you two and mr. terry, the owner of the shop.

“you know what, i have to go. it’s almost three and quen should be home soon. you know how punctual he is.” you grab your purse and sling the strap over your shoulder.

“chicken!” maise points a finger at you. she’s glowing with a toothy grin while watching you prepare to bolt for the door. “you can’t avoid it forever, honey.”

you brush off her comment with a hug and a wave. “whatever. love you. i’ll call you tonight with the details, maybe. bye!”

you all but run out of the shop, white sundress blowing with the opposing force of your movement. it’s not quite three o’clock yet but leaving is better than letting maise interrogate you further. she’s a riot but she got you pinned up against the wall and there’s nothing fun about being forced to answer her questions and face the music you’ve been tuning out for weeks. at least now you’d have some time to freshen up before the great arrival.

by the time you’re finished primping and set the hot curler down to refresh your styled silk press, you can hear the engine of your brother's lexus rolling into the driveway.

you lean forward and tug the curtains back in a firm grip to peak out into the driveway. between you and quentin, you received the larger room with the connected bathroom and it offered a perfect view of the front yard. said view is particularly handy for times like these.

you watch the driver door pop open, breath hitched in your throat and refuse to make any movements until you get the answers you're looking for.

a polished sneaker makes its appearance and becomes stationed on the white pavement. a body follows, tall and stocky and unlike the statuesque frame you’re subconsciously excited about.

pushing yourself even more to your feet and across the expanse of your vanity, you flick the latch of your window until it clicks to signal its unlocked. you push it up with such force that it soars much farther than you anticipated but that’s the least of your concerns right now.

“quentin!” you yell from your bedroom with a wide smile and a vigorous wave at your older brother below you.

your voice gets his attention and he snaps his head in your direction. “ ☆ !” he mirrors your expression, arms open wide in a hug as if he expected you to fly down into his embrace. he bumps the car door closed with his side. “i’m coming up.”

quentin’s words don’t stop you from flinging your door open, running down the stairs, fingertips grazing the wooden railing as you go. to some it may seem odd to be so cheery over the reappearance of your sibling but he’s your best friend, a staple part of your life to which you’d be lost without. if you aren’t running to the front door to see him, then there’s clearly a problem.

he’s already in the entryway, though, and peeling off his jacket to hang in the coat closet. the pittering of your feet long alerted quentin of your presence so he’s not shocked when you’re throwing yourself at him. “jeez, girl. did you eat a whole cow? you’re strong as shit.” his arm comes to wrap around your back and become settled between your shoulder blades.

“shut up,” you roll your eyes in return and separate yourself from him. you give him a once over, from the two strand twists at the top of his head, across the gray nike tech, and to the pristine white laces of his shoes. “wow, you really don’t look like you belong here anymore. that’s crazy, quen. you’re all grown up.”

“yeah well,” he pushes the closet door closed, waiting for its creaking hinges to silence before continuing his sentence, “gotta get out of this town someday. not you, though. you can stay. it suits you.” quentin’s eyes are filled with a brotherly fondness while giving you a similar once over. “where’s ma?”

you follow him to the bathroom to watch him wash his hands. “at work. dad, too. told me to text them when you get home but, uh, where’s all your stuff?”

quentin flicks his wrists into the sink and side-steps you. he rounds the corner to enter the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge and popping it open. “oh, it’s at hobie’s place. i figured i’d leave the extra shit there since he has his own crib. do you know what mom’s making for dinner?”

you’re still trailing behind him, now leaned against the countertop with your arms crossed over your chest. when you’re face to face with the source of your turmoil, it’s hard to pretend it doesn’t exist. “so he really is back in town, huh.” it's not a question with the way you say it, staring at your fluffy sandals designated for wearing inside the house.

“mhm. forgot how talkative people here are. news spreads fast.” he pulls out a container of last night's leftovers and sets it beside you, already closing the fridge and moving on to find a plate. when his eyes find their way back to you, he’s surprised to see you glaring at him. “why are you looking at me like that?”

“because i’m a little upset that you didn’t tell me he was coming home. i get it if he didn’t want to draw attention to himself but it’s just me. i thought we were all cool.”

“we are all cool. it just slipped my mind, swear.” quentin bounces around the kitchen. he’s still engaged in your conversation though his sole focus is getting some food in his system but every now and then, he’ll glance at you while scooping fried rice onto a plate. “i didn’t intentionally not tell you. i just had a lot to do with the packing and the whole coming home thing. plus, you just finished your first year of college so i didn’t think you’d care so much. which you also still have to tell me how it went,” he puts the fork in his mouth and sticks the plate in the microwave.

“quentin,” you’re tempted to stomp your foot, no matter how childish it will come across.

“i didn’t exclude you on purpose, ☆ . i forgot and i’m sorry. next time, i’ll tell you as soon as i know.”

you’re somewhat pacified with his response, tossing his words over and over in your head until your concerns are soothed and the gloomy feeling dissipates. “fine but you have no idea what i had to go through with maise today. i swear she had all these theories and speculations about what its going to be like that i could have avoided if you told me.”

the microwave beeps, ringing its alarm that the timer has finished all throughout the kitchen. quentin is quick to take out his steaming plate and make his way towards the table with you still in tow. “oh, maise! how is she? i haven’t seen her in a minute.”

“she’s good. good grades, likes her college, majoring in child development. who cares, though. i want to know about hobie. it’s been two years.” you sit next to him, even going as far as pushing the chairs closer as if the topic needed it, as if hobie is a taboo subject.

“he’s great. he’ll be by later, said he wanted to stop by and see you and then he has to make his rounds.” quen shovels a forkful of food into his mouth. he’s eyeing his plate with an almost blank stare. you’re too close for him to feel comfortable looking at you, expectantly. as if he’s going to drop some big news about hobie’s return.

he's not an idiot. he knows, knew, about your crush on his best friend. it was obvious watching you go through all the childish phases, giggling to clinging onto to him to trying to play it cool. quentin has seen it all and he doesn’t think he can handle watching your excitement grow and dull when hobie ultimately makes his decision to leave. “he’s got that place he rents out when he’s not here. don’t know how long he plans on staying, though. when i asked, hobie said two months so i guess we’ll see.”

you’re blissfully unaware of the idea that quentin’s words are for your sanity, to calm the budding excitement as you gather strands of your hair between the tips of your fingers and stare at the freshly trimmed ends. “that’s nice. maybe he’ll come to the summer festival in a few days.”

that elicits a scoff out of your brother. “fat chance. hobie brown? he’s not showing his face at those things. he thinks they’re capitalistic holidays that prey on children. personally, i think he just really hates this town and is coming up with a bullshit excuse not to go.”

you let the bundle of hair between your fingers go and it drops back towards your shoulder in a soft heap. “did he say that or are you speaking for him?”

“he doesn’t have to say it, stupid. i just know.” quentin points his fork at you, flinging grains of cooked rice in your direction. despite the gross reaction that flashes across your face, all he does is laugh. genuine laughter with his head tilted back, clearly delighted to have bothered his dear sister. “it was an accident. i didn’t mean to.”

“get away from me.” you scrunch your face in disgust and shove the chair away from the table. it screeches against the floorboards with each movement. “you don’t point your fork at someone, dumbass. that’s fucking gross.” you say as you rise to your feet and make your exit, rolling your eyes on the way out.

it’s futile to pretend you aren’t looking forward to hobie pulling into the driveway. behind the closed door of your room, you barely watch the virgin suicides. the volume to the movie is turned down so low, you can almost hear your neighbor’s dog trotting on the pavement enjoying its walk. you’ve even gone as far as to open your window just in case you’d be too preoccupied to hear him as is.

you haven’t bothered to change out of the pretty dress, wanting to give off the best first impression you possibly could. after all these years have passed, it’s nearly critical that hobie sees you as you are, an adult. not because you still harbor feelings for him, but because that’s what you are now. you’re all grown up, just as he is.

quentin’s asleep in his room and offering you no answers as to when his friend is actually arriving nor did he request you to wake up when he does so. it’s only right to assume he’d rather stay asleep when hobie arrives then, isn’t it? especially after such a long trip.

hence why when the sound of hobie’s motorcycle reverberates through the glass pane of your window, you roll off your bed and to your feet with a sudden quickness. contrary to the excitement you greeted your brother with from your upstairs bedroom, you close the window the moment you reach it.

as soon as the white latch clinks shut, you’re flying out the door and down the stairs. the tips of your fingers graze the railing, only truly grasping it when you find yourself losing your balance at the speed you’re moving. if only maise could see you now.

you pull the front door open before hobie has a chance to ring the doorbell with such force, he flinches. there’s still a finger hanging in the air, adorned in silver rings and what seems to be a hand tattoo. that same hand is connected to a body, just as tall as you remember. your eyes trail as far as his shoulders, gaze already tilted upwards and too nervous to continue. it never occurred to you what being face to face with hobie would mean, would entail.

you didn’t think about him and his pine scent, paired with the natural musk of being outside. not once did you even think about the possible changes he’d go through within the past two years. even without looking at his face, you can already point out differences. he’s leaner, more muscles protruding from his tank top. grungier too, with dark wash baggy jorts sitting so low on his waist, you can see the calvin klein boxers peeking through the bottom. if you thought seeing hobie show off his toned stomach was a lot, the sight of the ink on his arm has you at a loss for words. a full sleeve of various line art and doodles.

you’re sick to your stomach.

“you’re back in town!” you finally gain the courage to look him in his eyes and nearly fall to your knees. “and you pierced your face!” your eyes dart between the nose piercing, the lip piercing, and the eyebrow piercing. slowly, you soak it all in, including the shoulder length locs tied into a ponytail. only after all of that do you look him in his eyes, filled with the same warmth and wonder as they were two years ago.

“ ☆ !” hobie’s face lights up with the same childlike glee as before, too. it’s like nothing has changed when he throws his arms around you to envelop you into a tight hug. “you noticed, did you?” he chuckles, deep and smooth right in your ear. unfortunately for you, it sends spirals into your stomach.

“do you like them? i want to get my tongue pierced this summer, too.” he finally pulls away and reveals his toothy grin, full of dazzling white teeth that can only come from regularly visiting a dentist. “but how have you been? i haven’t seen you in forever. you’re so . . .” he gives you his own once-over, much shorter than the one you gave him, “not a little kid anymore.”

you aren’t too sure what to make of that but you step aside anyway to welcome him into your home. suddenly, you’re far more nervous than you were at the mere thought of hobie coming over. he was intimidating just as a concept but in person? he’s even worse. he’s too pretty and composed. “i’m so not a little kid anymore?” you try to offset your awkwardness by turning the situation back to him.

“yeah. i mean, you look nice, ☆ .” hobie stands with his hands in his pockets and a lazy smile. there’s not one ounce of embarrassment or hesitation written on his face. however, it oozes out of you. “so, where’s your brother at? he’s supposed to be going around town with me. it makes it less weird if we’re both there.”

“oh, quen fell asleep a few minutes ago.” you say with your back to hobie, disguising your reluctance as a sudden interest in turning the lock rather slowly. “you’re welcome to wait until he wakes up but he’s out cold.”

hobie clicks his tongue with a sigh, eyeing the walls of your childhood home. it’s still lined with the same family portraits and kindergarten crafts. there’s even his own graduation picture on the mantle, sandwiched between yours and quentin’s. he snorts at the sight, dressed in the same black graduation cap and gown but missing some of the cords adorned by the others. not only was hobie not too involved in the community, but he merely did what he had to in school with the exception of a few clubs and hobbies. “no, he’ll probably be knocked for a while. i’ll just do it later, i guess.”

you nod, hugging yourself in a tight grip. your act to self soothe during your one-on-one isn’t very effective. the air feels thick with tension. you have the impression that it’s one-sided because hobie turns to face you. 

“how about you come with me instead? we can ride around and go to that one park we used to go to as kids.”

for a moment, your heart drops to your feet. staring into his eyes does nothing good for your nervous system. as much as you attempted to convince both maise and yourself that you harbor no feelings towards hobie at all, everything in you is screaming otherwise.

your eyes settle on the floorboards and you sniff. “i don’t know. i don’t think i’d feel comfortable on your bike. don’t you have to wear gear and stuff?”

“well, yeah i’m supposed to.” he shrugs. his head is tilted to one side. “i don’t, though. not here at least. if i’m on the highway or in a big city then yeah but not here. nothing ever happens here.”  parts of the hobie you subconsciously fear appear as a shadow on his face. the corners of his mouth twitch downwards and his eyes become clouded, but only for a second. “we can take your car if you’d like. i saw it in the driveway. it’s cute.”

he’s referring to the little volkswagen beetle parked just outside with a tan exterior and a decorated interior. it’s full of flower vent clips, pink seat covers, and scented with gain car air freshener.

“um,” you busy yourself by smoothing your hands over the skirt of your dress. suddenly, you’re reflecting on the fact that you are somewhat dressed up. sure, you curl your hair and wear cute dresses on the regular but never have you worn a cute dress, curled your hair, waited for someone to come over, and beat them to the door before they could announce their arrival. “sure. i guess we can do that. i don’t want you to think you have to, though. you came for quentin and he’s asleep so don’t force yourself.”

you’re surprised when hobie laughs, nose wrinkling with genuine enjoyment. he shakes his head and places his hand on your shoulder. it engulfs your skin like a warm blanket and gives you a squeeze. “never change, okay? you’re so sweet. get your keys and let’s go.”

there’s a strawberry field just across the park guarded by a wire fence. some kids gather around the edges and pluck the berries off the overgrown branches that poke just close enough for them to reach with their little fingers.

the breeze carries the sounds of high-pitched laughter and squeals from the children running about. with school just recently letting out, the park is well occupied. it’s a surprise to no one to see a crowd of elementary schoolers running around the slides and pushing each other on the swing.

you sit at a bench. the metal is warmed from the sunlight beaming down. you have your phone in your hand, pumping out back to back texts to maise filled with terrible grammar and even worse spelling. to say you're panicked would be an understatement. you’re more than panicked. you feel so wrong about being here, more or less alone with your brother’s best friend. the same best friend that you’ve had the biggest crush on for years, only for him to disappear and for you to assume everything you’ve ever felt and thought would be gone with him. the same best friend who’s return brought back the juvenile feelings from your youth.

he’s gone to the ice cream truck parked in the parking lot to buy you both popsicles and therefore, giving you about five minutes to figure out your game plan. maise is no help. most her texts consist of “i told you so” and laughing at your inevitable demise. you feel just about ready to melt into the pavement and through your phone across the park, in no particular order. your nails just might break your screen with the amount of force between each push.

“are you mad at someone?”

you're quick to turn your phone off in the amount of time it takes for you to look up at hobie, standing in front of you with two popsicles, one in each hand. “huh? oh, no. it’s just maise. she’s being so stupid.” the frustration has yet to dissipate and your face shows it, huffing a breath of annoyance. “you’d think you ask someone for advice and they’d actually give it to you instead of making fun of you.”

“mm,” hobie has a seat next to you. he hands you the powerpuff girls popsicle, very obviously supposed to be styled after bubbles. its still in it’s wrapper and it’s a good thing at that. already the popsicle began to get a little soft in the summer heat. “advice about what?” he, himself, holds one of those spongebob ones that never come out right. for a moment, you consider that perhaps he’s reminiscing about the days where you, quentin, and hobie would run out at the sound of the ice cream truck and get the silly cartoon popsicles, only to compare who’s looks the worst.

“oh, just about my classes. i don’t know if i want to take one of my electives or not.” you spit out the lie faster than you can really process it. you peel the wrapper off the popsicle and stick it in your mouth to give you an excuse not to speak.

“i definitely can’t help you with that. i didn’t go to college so i really wouldn’t know.” for a brief moment, hobie finds humor in the distorted face of his spongebob popsicle before taking a small bite of the cold corner. “what’s it like? do you like it?”

the question makes you sigh. there really is no response you can give him that would push the conversation forward, especially when you have been asked the very same thing so many times by almost every adult in your life. “um, it’s okay. it’s hard, y’know, to find the motivation to make myself go to class and there’s always some sort of drama going on between someone and someone else.” you reminisce on the boy and friend drama you’ve both witnessed and experienced from a bittersweet perspective.

hobie nods, watching a group of giggling ten year olds run by. they seem to be participating in a game of tag, their cheeks rosy and eyes glistening with what can only be found in childhood. “can’t believe you’re in college now. that used to be us, playing at the park and then going to your house to have dinner.”

you don’t mention that hobie didn’t come to your graduation. instead, you kick a rock by your foot and change the topic of the conversation. “so, if you don't go to college, what do you do?”

“i’m a server at a restaurant. it makes pretty good money, actually. i can afford a one bedroom apartment in the city so i don’t mind. i’m in a band now too and sometimes i make stuff to sell.” he pulls out his phone for a split second to check the notification that vibrated in his phone before sliding it back into his pocket.

you’re grateful that he doesn’t outright tell you what he makes so you’re able to participate in the conversation and ask him, “what kind of stuff?”

“oh, like paintings, crochet stuff, stuff like that. arts and crafts that people like to buy. it does pretty well since that kind of thing is trending.” 

the conversation falls a bit flat after that. you fault yourself, too self conscious to relax around him. a part of you is overjoyed to have him back and another part of you feels like a neglected afterthought. all this time, hobie was doing just fine. he was living his life and choosing who to keep contact with. it hurts your heart that he didn’t consider you at all but is so comfortable with returning and acting like nothing has changed. perhaps he didn’t take you as seriously as you would like.

“oh, that’s cool.” you try not to sound too sour when you say it. “it’s great that you made a life you enjoy.” you watch a blue drop of melted popsicle roll down and drip onto the white plastic gripped between your fingers. gravity continues to pull the droplet down towards the stick and it stains the wood blue.

hobie glances at you, eyebrows knitted together. he takes in your expression and the subtext behind it. it’s obvious what he’s doing behind his scrutinizing gaze. “yeah? you can be honest. you know that, right?”

“mhm,” you nod with a hum. you’re not interested in engaging any further with the topic. instead, you eye a ladybug crawling on the bench armrest. it’s not like you planned on discussing your deep emotional feelings with him anyway, especially not here. “i’m happy for you, really.”

you can still feel hobie’s eyes boring into the side of your face but the feeling does nothing to capture your attention and turn your head back towards him. instead, you nearly praise whatever higher power caused your conversation to be interrupted by an onlooker.

“oh my gosh, hobie brown!”

you both turn your head to the perpetrator. hobie is just as surprised as you are to see magnolia, from high school, walking up to you both. you don’t know her very well considering she was in the same graduating class as your brother but you’re aware of her.

truthfully, you’ve never liked her very much during your younger years. you despised the way she’d cling onto hobie and quentin, often forcing her way into their circle. at least, you’d consider it forcing. quentin always told you not to worry about it.

here she is again, forcing herself into your hangout with your supposed friend who’s there with you. she’s grinning as she walks up to you both, hands planted on her waist. you so badly want to judge her for her outfit choice but you know you can’t. it’s not like you don’t know what type of person magnolia is and how much she pushes the social standards most people operate with. still, something vile twists inside you and even more so when you catch hobie’s eyes wandering across her body.

that is also no surprise because you know their history. of course hobie wouldn’t be able to deny himself from staring at magnolia like this when she’s wearing daisy dukes, a tiny shirt, and so ready to reopen the book of their past.

“look at you. can’t believe you didn’t come by the moment you got back,” she teasingly smacks his arm with a tinkling laugh. her eyes briefly drift to your direction and she smiles out of politeness. “oh hey, sugar. tell your brother i said hi, would you?”

you nod and pull your lips tight. suddenly, what interest you did have died a painful death and you turn back to the ladybug as your only comfort. unfortunately, that too is gone and you’re left with nothing but the ability to listen in on a conversation you want nothing to do with.

“aw, maggie. don’t worry, i’m still planning on it. you’ll get a very special and personal visit, just for you.”

“promise?”

you nearly choke, face scrunching up in disgust. you’re not five and can read between the very obvious lines. you feel the need to remind them that you are quite literally right there and swallow the green monster making a nice home in your heart. “i don’t mean to interrupt but i have to get home and get ready for dinner. do you want me to give you a ride, hobie, or are you good?”

you try to hide your disappointment before hobie can say anything. you can tell by his hesitation and expression what decision he’s going to make, glancing between both you and magnolia. he’s going to spend some quality time with her. “i think i’m good but you should get back. drive safe, okay? text me when you get home.”

“okay. then, i’ll see you later.” you rise to your feet and dig your hand into your purse, searching for the keys to your car. “bye magnolia. it was nice seeing you again.” her words of the returned gesture fall on deaf ears as you turn and head back to the parking lot. there’s a frown etched on your face and you dump the mostly-eaten popsicle into the trash.

it never crossed your mind that you’re not the only one who is looking forward to hobie back around. you’ve been so used to viewing yourself as the center of the universe that not once did you think about literally anyone else who has been involved in hobie’s past.

you pull the door open of your car and get inside, staring out of the windshield. you feel so teenage girl romcom movie but you don’t know what to do about it. one half of you wants to sob and rot in your bed and claim your heart is broken and the other part of you just wants to go home, eat dinner, and call maise.

you sit there like that for a few minutes before eventually turning on your car and starting the drive home. sza blares through the radio and is your only solace on your lonely drive home.

“no! and then she just shows up and takes him?” maise pulls out two small boxes of sour patch kids out of the plastic grocery bags on the counter. her eyes are wide and she’s hanging on to every part of your story.

it’s been about a week and a half since that time in the park with hobie and you’re still reveling in the emotions of it. you have yet to make a decision on how to conduct yourself around him and as a result, have begun to avoid him. you find it’s better not to be near him at all than to stand there and know that he wanted you to leave him so he could probably have mind blowing sex with his small-town fling.

“she just walks right over and he basically starts drooling.” you’re also unloading various snacks and a liter of soda from the grocery bags. tonight, you both plan to watch movies and eat junk food until your tummies are threatening to burst and you’re both ready to pass out from exhaustion. “i’m so stupid. i should have known. we weren’t even in the same crowd back then. why did i think anything would be different now?”

maise pities you just a bit. she sympathetically presses her lips into a pouty frown and reaches over the counter to grab your hand. “poor baby. in your defense, you have more of a southern belle, sweetest girl in town thing going for you and hobie is the exact opposite. it makes sense why he’d go for magnolia. you two have nothing in common and you’re virtually inexperienced.”

“i have experience!” you begin to pile the various snacks into the bin you brought down from your room just for the special occasion. “i have plenty of experience.”

“you had one situationship for half of your first year of college that treated you like shit. that’s not experience, babe. that’s trauma.”

you whip your head to give maise a pointed glare at bringing up what you’re trying so hard to forget. that chapter of your life is over and it died the moment the academic year ended. “okay but the point is, i am not a baby and i bet i could fuck just as good as she can. he just sees me as a little girl and i can never change that.”

“so what are you going to do?” your friend leans against the counter on the opposing side of you. she crosses her arms over her chest after adjusting her black leggings as they have risen above her ankles.

“nothing,” you say with a sigh. you grab the basket and hoist it onto your hips. “like i said, he sees me as a child. i’m just going to do what i’ve been doing, nothing. ignore him. just keep my distance until he goes home and forget all about him.”

what you don’t tell maise is that magnolia isn’t the only one. sometimes, the habits from your childhood return and you sit yourself at quentin’s door with your ear pressed up against the wood. you listen to his conversations with hobie, sometimes on the phone and sometimes in person, about his recent endeavors with the locals in town. so far, there has been at least one other girl since magnolia. whether he bounces between spending his nights with the two, you’re unsure and you don’t think you even want to know.

maise begins to open her mouth to say something but snaps it shut at the sound of the front door opening. there’s an irregular pattern that comes from two people coming through the door and for a moment, your face flashes with panic.

“i’m beginning to hate going out with you. every single time there’s always some girl ready to — oh hey.” quentin stops in the middle of his sentence as soon as he spots you standing in the kitchen. he jumps a bit, not having expected to see both you girls watching him walk into the house. “what are you doing here, maise?”

“we’re having a movie night.”she rises to standing and positions herself at your side.

“the sun is still out.” quentin lifts a finger to point to the window with the blinds open. sunlight streams through the trees of your backyard and reaches the living room.

“yeah. we just came back from the store and now we’re pregaming by talking shit.” she throws an arm around your shoulder, taking notice of your silence and lack of movement. it’s almost like you’re not breathing and it’s definitely because hobie is standing right there in all his glory, smiling right at you. maise using her grip on you to subtly nudge some sort of humanity back in you.

“anyway,” you clear your throat and take a sudden interest in reorganizing the bin of snacks, “we’re going to get going. we have a lot of girl stuff to talk about so see you later.” you take maise’s hand and take the lead in walking past the two and up the stairs of your house. you don’t miss the quizzical looks from both men at your hastiness to get out of being around them.

frankly, this isn’t the first time you’ve made a bolt to get out of being in the same room as them, but only when hobie is around. however, no one makes a move to question it and lets you do as you please. to quentin, it’s a sign you’re no longer hung up over his best friend and is far better than getting your hopes up for nothing. to hobie, you’re abhorrently avoiding him for some reason and he can’t stand it at all.

it makes him antsy, as if there’s some big impending doom coming that he won’t be able to stop. it makes him uncomfortable to see you get along so well with others and flee the moment he steps into the room and oddly enough, it’s only ever started happening since that one day. was it something he said or did? surely it can’t be because he didn’t accompany you back home. after all, you did text him to let him know you made it safely like he requested so he thought everything was fine. what is going on with you?

it’s somewhere between the hours of two and three am when you make the decision to trek downstairs for a cold glass of water. maise had fallen asleep on the left side of your bed a half hour ago and you had beaten her. you won by staying out longer than she did and decide to reward yourself with a neutral drink to wash the syrupy taste out your mouth.

the house feels awfully cold during such hours of the night and you regret leaving the warmth of your room in your oversized shirt and little pink shorts. both of your parents came home hours ago, wished you a fun night and retired to their beds in preparation for work the next day. you’re assuming no one else is awake with the only other options being quentin and hobie, if hobie is even here.

you sniff and rub your hands along your arms as you round the corner and enter the catch. in the darkness of night and with your squinting eyes, you use what spatial awareness you have to guide your way to the glasses in the cabinet.

you just manage to wrap your fingers around it before there’s some sort of shuffling behind you. you’re unnerved, almost dropping the glass in the time it takes you to look over your shoulder at the perpetrator. “hello?” you try to make out the form in the dark and find purchase in the knife drawer in front of you.

“it’s just me.” the voice is gruff and familiar and washes over you like a relaxing wave of warm water. “sorry, i wasn’t trying to scare you.”

“hobie?” you lean towards him to make out his figure in the shadows. the moonlight does little to aid in visibility. there is only a pale light struggling to come through the window. you have to reach over and turn on the stove light just to see him since your eyes have yet to adjust. “i thought you went home?”

“i did. i went to see my parents and it went just about as well as i thought.” hobie takes a seat at the bar stools behind the aisle. he seems strained, running his hand over his face with a sigh. “so i came back because i like it here more.”

“why didn’t you just go to your own house?” you feel a little underdressed in your attire all of the sudden. sure, you are preparing to go to sleep and in the comfort of your own house but you’d hate to give off the impression that you’re walking around without pants on.

“because i like it here more. pretty sure i said that,” now he’s rubbing his eyes, sitting up to lean against the back of the chair. “if you’re getting a glass of water, can you get me one too?” hobie’s lips turn up into a small, sad smile. his eyes look tired, worn out from whatever went down at his parents’ house.

you forgot all about the glass in your hand, looking down at it as if it’s appeared from the ether. “oh, you can just have mine. i’m probably going to go back to bed.” you’re still dead set on ignoring hobie. for one,  it makes it so much easier to get used to the feeling of disappointment that he doesn’t see you when you literally don’t have to see him. not to mention, it’s difficult enough to look him in his eyes but to be alone with him and look him in the eyes? you have to go.

you set the glass down on the island and slide it over to him, prepared to take a quick and silent walk back to the safety of your room and your best friend asleep on your bed. “goodnight, hobie.”

you don’t make it very far before hobie is speaking to you, again. his gaze is following your attempt at escaping him and it’s annoying him that this is probably the thousandth time you’ve evaded him. “what is up with you? i’m clearly going through something and would benefit from talking about it with someone. i literally just left your house and showed up again and you’re not even going to ask me how i got in?”

you try to not huff when you turn to face him with an eyebrow quirked. “what are you talking about?” you clench your hands into small fists, only to flex them and release what tension you carry.

“what am i talking about? you speak like, five words to me now. i don’t know what i did to make this happen and i’m sorry but you’re literally avoiding me. you came down here for what, a glass of water? you gave me yours before you even got one and now you’re going back upstairs so you don’t have to talk to me. what did i do?”

you shake your head at his words. he’s not wrong. you have been avoiding him and looking for any way out not to speak or be around him more than you need to. still, hobie doesn’t have to bring it up. he shouldn't have brought it up. what are you going to do now? “i still don’t know what you’re talking about. i haven’t done anything to avoid you. i just don’t want water anymore and i want to go back to sleep.”

hobie presses his lips together. he’s doing his best not to stare at you with hardened eyes so he turns away, looking at the countertop instead. his frustration is palpable but he’s sensible enough to restrain himself, to keep himself from turning it into an argument. “okay, go to sleep then. goodnight.” he taps his nails against the side of the glass, listening to the little plinks ro distract himself from the unrest in his soul.

you stand there, staring at the back of hobie’s head even though he’s dismissed you. you’re free to go with no repercussions but the guilt from doing so while knowing he wanted to talk about whatever is plaguing him is too much to handle. “oh my god, fine. what is it? what happened at your parents'?”

your feet drag all the way towards the island and you sit on the bench beside him. you rest your hands in your lap and stare at the numbers reading back the time on the stove. they’re green and a great source of something to look at that isn’t hobie.

“no, it’s okay. you don’t want to hear about my problems because it’s such an inconvenience to you. i’m just going to sit here and mope, maybe cry, and go home.”

“don’t piss me off.” you tsk, picking a strand of string off your shirt. your eyes cut to him in a sideways glare, urging him to talk and quickly before you change your mind. “what’s wrong? what happened?”

hobie pokes his cheek with his tongue. he stares at the ceiling before slowly closing his eyes. “i dunno, man. it was so bad. they think i’m a disappointment or somethin’. it’s written all over their faces.”

“that’s not true. they probably were just overwhelmed that you came home.” you do your best to reassure him but even you know that’s probably a lie. hobie’s parents disapprove of him, everyone knows it. they’re embarrassed their only son turned out to be some sort of punk neanderthal and actively denounce him in public.

“don’t kid yourself, dove. my parents hate me and you know it. we all know it. i went over and they practically screamed it in my face. we had dinner for five seconds and got into a screamin’ match about how i let everyone down by runnin’ wild in the streets.” he’s squinting now. “when have i ever run wild in the streets?”

you can only shrug, unable to give him a response. you don’t know what to say to him. there is no denying what he experienced. all you can do is listen and shrug. “i’m sorry about that. you’re not a disappointment. they just can’t understand why they like it here so much and why you don’t. that can’t be easy to understand.”

“yeah well, i’ll get over it. i’ll just stay away from them and they can stay away from me and we can all pretend we aren’t related.” hobie doesn’t sound bitter, he sounds defeated. he sounds like he’s been down this road many times before and expected an outcome no different than before. however, it’s only natural for a child to wish for their parents to understand them. “anyway . . .,” his head lolls to the side until he’s looking at you, staring at you, “why are you avoiding’ me?”

your lips curl into themselves and you feel the need to excuse yourself. “i’m not avoiding you. if you’re done with your rant, i’m going to go to sleep now.” you go to rise to your feet but your attempt is short-lived when hobie catches you with his hands on your shoulders.

“yes, you are. look. you’re trying to do it right now. you’re tryin’ to leave because i’m confrontin’ you about it. i’m not going to stop pressin’ you about it until you tell me.”

one look in his eyes and you can tell he’s serious. hobie has caught you alone in the dead of night. he’s got you face-to-face and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it but lie or tell the truth, neither of which would work here.

“i’m not avoiding you, hobie. i just –,” you avert your gaze until you’re looking at literally anything else, “– i just think it’s best if we keep a distance and remain cordial. we don’t have to be friends because you're friends with quentin. you don’t have to feel like you have to be friends with me.”

“what?” the man lets you go. his arms drop back into his lap and he’s looking at you as if you’ve just proclaimed your undying love for present day denzel washington. “where is this coming from? you’ve always been a friend of mine. we grew up together. just because i’m closer to quentin doesn’t mean we aren’t close at all.”

you rack your brain to find a way around the real reason by cherry picking the words until they form a sentence that makes sense. “well, yes but i’m not like you. i don’t think there’s anything you – i just – we aren’t the same. we’re in very different crowds and i don’t want you to force yourself to get along with me.”

“okay, we’re in different crowds. what’s that supposed to mean? i’m friends with you because you are different from me. if i didn’t want to be around you or anyone who isn’t the exact same as me, i wouldn’t have come home. you’ve never been insecure about our friendship before so what’s going on?”

you’ve just about reached the end of the line. you’re frazzled and unable to keep pumping out excuses. he’s just going to disprove every single one and deny you a reason to run away. he doesn’t get it and he won’t get it. there’s only one option left to do. every ounce of your soul is screaming at you not to, already burning from the humiliation but as far as you’re concerned, you have no other option. “you don’t get it. jeez, hobie, you’re so stupid. obviously, i’m avoiding you because i have feelings for you and you don’t feel the same. i don’t want to be around you when i know you’re just going to go out and fuck every girl in town.”

your little spiel is followed by silence. while what weight was lifted off your chest, your hands are beginning to sweat from the anxiousness. still, you’ve already said it and you can’t back down so you sit firm in your decision. your eyes still begin to water from the overwhelming emotion that comes with speaking your mind like that and being met with absolutely nothing.

finally, hobie tilts his head. “fuck every girl in town? what are you talking about? is that what people are saying about me?”

you burst into tears, partly because you took that as rejection and partly because you think he doesn’t care. he just brushed off everything you said to talk about his sexual endeavors. “you’re so mean. you’re so mean and you hate me and you want me to die,” you blubber through a watery gargle. your hands are unable to keep up with the tears that stream down your face. by the time you brush one away, there’s another one that takes its place.

“oh my god.” hobie’s eyes widened in shock at your immediate reaction. it happened faster than he can blink and he’s terrified that someone is going to wake up, find you crying, and blame it all on him. “why are you crying?” he pulls you into an embrace, tucking your head beneath his chin and into his chest. despite what many would think, his skin is awfully warm to the touch and it would have been comforting if he didn’t stomp on your heart.

“because i just spilled my deepest, darkest secret to you and you don’t care. you’re bragging about how many times you got laid instead of having human emotions.” you only sob louder as he runs his fingers along your spine in what’s supposed to be a soothing manner.

“i’m not bragging about anything. i haven’t even fucked anyone since i’ve been here. where are you getting your information from?” hobie can’t decide whether or not he’s concerned or humored. he lifts your head, but only briefly, to wipe the tears on your cheeks. the moment he sees your lip tremble, he allows you to go back into the comfort of hiding against him.

“i don’t have to get my information from someone. i just know. you literally left me for magnolia and i know that you’ve been seeing some other girl. plus, quen was saying something about every girl and you when you walked in.” your words are muffled in his shirt. you feel a little guilty because of how wet it is but then you think about how hobie wronged you and wish you soaked it with your sobs.

“okay, first of all, i did not fuck magnolia. i’d have to bash my head with a brick to consider doing that. second of all, i’m not seeing anyone. i’m trying to get a temporary job while i’m still here and i have to suck up to the manager because she doesn’t like me. and why is it my fault that people like me? i can’t stop them from liking me and i can’t stop someone else from talking about it. you’ve misunderstood every single thing and now you’re yelling at me.”

you sniffle and tilt your head up. there is suspicion and doubt written all over your face. “so if you don’t like magnolia like that, then why were you looking at her like that? like you were thinking about taking her clothes off.”

hobie reels his head back, giving you a similar mystified expression. “girl, what are you talking about? if i was looking at her any sort of way it was probably because she was standing in front of the actual sun and I couldn't see. i wear contacts and i forgot to put them in. you know i wear contacts so now i’m confused.”

for a moment, you don’t say anything. you sit there and replay his explanations over and over again, searching for any holes in his story. you slowly run your tongue over your lip as the embarrassment slowly sets in. he’s right, he does wear contacts. he got them senior year of high school and you suppose you just forgot. you forgot and cried and went on him for no reason.

hobie watches you come to the realization. he can tell it’s dawning on you when your face relaxes and forms into one of mortification. this is where he decides it’s humorous to him. it’s even more hilarious when he adds the cherry on top. “and your deepest, darkest secret? i already knew. it’s not really a secret if everyone knows.”

that brings you an entire new wave of waterworks but instead, they build and build in your waterline until they eventually spill over in an occasional spill. “so you knew this whole time and let me embarrass myself? and you’re rejecting me?”

hobie reaches off and tears a paper towel square off the roll. he shakes his head, bending the square into a smaller one. he uses it to dab your cheek with a tut of his tongue. “you have to stop crying. i can’t talk to you when you’re refusing to listen to me. at least cry silently or ask questions that i can actually answer.”

“no,” you take the square from his fingers. really, you snatch it and use it to clean your dribbling nose. “i’m so mad at you. i don’t want to talk anymore.” you take this chance to get off the bar stool and move towards the trash can. you’re still sniffling and occasionally gasping for air while you clean yourself up. “you knew this entire time and didn’t say anything? i’d rather you turn me down from the beginning than give me this false sense of security. you led me on.”

“no. no, i didn’t.” hobie watches you rinse your face with water. hearing his denial just makes you angrier.

“yes you did. you knew and you said nothing.”

“no i did not. you didn’t even ask me –”

“i don’t have to ask you because i already know. you’re the worst person alive and you only care about yourself –”

“ ☆ , listen. you’ve been assuming things for weeks and look where that got you. just, stop talking and let me speak, please.” his firm tone knocks any thought out of your brain and gets you to tighten up, real quick.

you look over your shoulder, not yet ready to look at him but finally ready to accept that you just might be wrong. you lift the neckline of your shirt over your face and use it as a method to dry it.

“in order for me to have led you on, you’d have to actually confess your feelings to me. at what point do you think i should have just walked up to you and say ‘hey, i know you have feelings for me that you aren’t ready to talk about yet but i just wanted to let you know that i’m not interested’? why do you assume that i don’t feel anything towards you, anyway? maybe i do but i don’t say anything because i know it’s not going to work. let’s think about it, i rarely ever come into town. you love town. at what point would i ever come along and see you?”

“you would get your ass on your bike and drive here like you did this time,” you mumble under your breath. you stand by the sink for a moment to gather your thoughts. you’re gaining clarity through the fog but now you’re drained. you’re tired and you don’t have the energy to feel displeased over whatever he has to say. it doesn’t matter what he has to say because in the end, it’s all going to be a no. “but whatever you say. we don’t work, okay. you’re leaving soon, okay. if that’s all, i’d like to go to bed now.”

“are you mad at me?” he asks from behind you, softly. he almost purrs it and it tugs at your will. you want so badly to let him in but he doesn’t want that and so you must persevere.

you shake your head with a breath. “no. i’m not mad at you. you’re entitled to your own opinion.” you put on the blankest expression you can manage and turn to face him. you cross your arms over your chest and manage to maintain what little composure you have.

he quips a brow at you, obviously not believing your claim and even more so when you don’t say anything to confirm it. “come here for a second.”

you shift your weight until your weight is all on your right side and your hip is popped. “hobie . . .”

“just for a second,” he outstretched his hand as an offer for you.

reluctantly, you take it and give no resistance when hobie pulls you into his personal space. his hands find your cheeks and squish them together until your lips are forced into a pout. “be honest with me, baby. are you mad at me?”

he doesn’t act surprised when you pause before nodding in response. “are you still going to be mad at me if i kiss you?”

hobie watches the thought go through your mind. you consider it and the consequences that come with it. it’s going to be a meaningless kiss because hobie has drawn the line. he can’t be attached to anything from this town and you know that. still, it’s an incredible opportunity to just pass up because of morality.

you shake your head.

hobie’s lips are soft against yours. there’s a subtly sweet taste but it’s possible you’re high off  oxytocin. again, you clench your hands into fists but this time it’s to restrain yourself from holding onto him and pulling him tighter. you have to keep reminding yourself that it’s a meaningless kiss.

it’s even harder to maintain that thought when hobie’s mouth fits so perfectly against yours. he doesn’t move his hands from your cheeks but the kiss grows heated, regardless. his tongue, wet and warm, runs over the expanse of your bottom lip before worming its way into your mouth.

you mewl when it finds yours and sucks. you have to tuck your hands behind your back to hold onto your composure. your feet betray you, though, by bringing you even closer into him and in turn, into his lips.

“are you done cryin’?” he kisses the corner of your mouth and jumps to the skin along your jawline. like before, he kisses and sucks the trail of skin from there to your neck. “because it wouldn’t be right if i just left you here.”

you squirm in your spot and do your best to conceal the whines that threaten to bubble up out of your throat. “hobie, you said – you –” you finally rested your hands on the tops of his thighs. the voice in the back of your head telling you to give in is getting more and more convincing with each passing second.

“what did i say?” he pauses his ministrations to catch his breath and give you a second to find yours. he isn’t sure how the conversation took this turn but he isn’t complaining. if anything, he’s hoping it’ll never end.

you stare at him in the yellow light from the stove. there’s still a chill in the air but you’re buzzed with need. suddenly, you’re hot. it’s sweltering even without the heat being on. you need to find a solution to your lust and quick. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him back into you, deciding the solution right there in the moment.

your lips crash against each other with a burning passion. hobie stands up out of the bar stool, his hands circling around your waist. he takes steps forward and forces you back against the counter across from you. you don’t mind, entangling your hands within his scalp. you’re willing to let him do whatever he wants to you and it shows.

hobie turns you around and presses his hardening cock against the plumpness of your ass. you gasp at the feeling of him rutting against you with his breath fanning over your shoulder, warm and sticky. there’s something that takes over, a horny little monster that throws all your inhibitions out the window. you’re equally as turned on, rolling your hips back on his in tandem with him.

“fuck, okay. don’t get too loud.” he whispers under the sound of the fabrics moving together. out of he corner of your eye, you barely get a glimpse of him shoving his fingers in his mouth before sliding underneath your clothing. he pulls your shirt up in a balled up fist and watches his hand disappear beneath the waistband of your shorts and elastic of your panties.

they waste no time finding your clit, sticky and growing swollen from your insatiable desire. “already so fuckin’ wet.” he rubs the nub in little circles, growing accustomed to your body and what you like most. occasionally, his fingers slip and unintentionally fall too close to your entrance.

your mouth falls open in a tiny “o”. you throw your head back onto his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut and grinding against both his dick and his fingers. you’re sandwiched between pleasure and doing your best to keep your moans limited to a whisper. you grip the edge of the counter and you’re actually grateful for it. it’s the solace that’s keeping you grounded to reality because without it, you’re sure you would have soared to the sky. “d – don’t tease,” you pant. you reach behind you searching for hobie’s dick and you find it easily. it’s hard to miss with the hard feeling of it against your skin and you swear you feel it grow harder when you wrap your fingers around it, still clothed over his sweats.

“sorry, dove. whatever you want,” hobie flattens his palm against your pussy. his middle finger prod at your sticky entrance to test your reaction but it slips right in, much to your pleasure. he has to take it slow with your sensitivity but hobie savors every moment. he’s not in a rush, especially when your fingers squeeze and rub at his clothed cock. he’s ready to stick it in now if he truly wanted but hobie wants this moment to last. he wants to burn the memory into his head and stain his life with whatever effects you have on him.

“mmm,” you hum, spreading your legs farther to accommodate his size. just one of his fingers could make you feel so full that you’re nearly satisfied like this. you have to close your lips and run your tongue along the inside of your cheeks to wet them again. “that feels so good.”

“yeah?” hobie asks. he’s so focused on you, he doesn’t notice how you’ve also managed to get your hand under the waistband of his boxers. he only realized what’s happening when your hand brushes against the stubble of his pubes and wraps around his shaft. “oh baby,” he whines in your ear. you can feel his dick twitch and jump at the tightness of your palm. he nearly falls over your frame when your thumb begins to circle around his tip.

hobie’s fingers stutter inside you. they push farther, deeper, making contact with your g-spot accidentally. he hasn’t gotten a chance to stick another finger in before you’re whimpering and nearly finger fucking yourself with his hand. “oh my gosh, right there. right there, right there!”

if hobie could have laughed at you, he would have. however, he has better things to worry about. like how your voice is beginning to rise in volume and he just cannot have that happen. “shhh,” is all he can manage throughout his full-body shudders. he uses his other hand to drop your shirt and instead stick his fingers in your mouth. they serve the purpose he intended, muffling your noises. he didn’t anticipate for you to suckle on them as if it’s the last thing you’d ever have in your mouth.

that, paired with the handjob and your gushing pussy around his fingers, he could have came right then and there. he could have exploded in his pants and made you cum and end it there but he didn’t. instead, he forces himself to pay attention to you. he puts his pleasure on the back burner and pushes his finger deeper, even going as far as to stretch you farther by adding a second one.

with his fingers deep in your throat and drool pouring out the corner of your mouth, your legs begin to shake. your chest rises and falls with each heaved breath. if you weren’t forced into somewhat silence, you’re sure you would have been calling out hobie’s name, drunk of him and him alone.

he has no idea what words you’re gurgling but unless you’re chanting about how you’re on the verge of cumming, he doesn’t care. luckily for him, it’s almost certain that you were and it’s evident with how your body falls slack in his arms and your cunt spasms around his fingers. the sight is an ultimate turn on.

hobie pulls his fingers out of your mouth and wipes the saliva over your cheek. he takes the opportunity to yank your bottoms down until they’re confined to your ankles. you step out of them and turn around, reconnecting your lips with his.

once again, you’re kissing hobie as an act of hunger, pushing your lips so hard together that they nearly swell. you cup the back of his head to draw him in. you’re delighted to feel his hands on the globes on your cheeks and set you onto the counter. it’s cold on your skin and so you flinch but it becomes a faint thought when hobie’s hands are anchored on the backs of your thighs. he pushes them back until your feet are flat on the counter and your glistening pussy is all on display, still creamy from your recent orgasm.

“just gotta get a taste,” he mumbles, mostly to himself as he eyes the shining cunt open and throbbing for him. he wastes no time wrapping his lips around your puffy clit, slurping at your slick. he enjoys the sapidity that’s unique to you, tangy and a bit sweet, like a refreshing dessert he could eat for the rest of his life.

he can feel the juices drip down his chin and coat the lower half of his face but that doesn’t stop him from eating your pussy like a starved man. you have to bring a hand up to your mouth to muffle the moans, watching the hobie lick between your folds and lap at your clit. your eyes are ready to roll back when hobie’s tongue pokes at your entrance. you want so badly to scream, to pull hobie’s head even closer to your aching pussy but you can’t. you can’t risk moving your hand off your mouth, knowing that the moment you do, you’ll wake up the whole house.

you compromise by using your other hand to support your weight and shift toward, putting yourself a little more onto your toes. in this new position, you’re able to move your cunt along his face. you push farther, going as far as to brush your clit along hobie’s nose.

his response is to tug your body to the edge of the counter and wrap your legs over his shoulders. your lower body is solely held up by him, his shoulder, and his hands. he swallows every ounce of your slick and sears your clit with a kiss.

it doesn’t take long before you’re finding yourself closer to the edge of a second orgasm. you ball your shirt up and shove the jumbled mess into your own mouth. your brain is foggy. you can’t think of a single thought that isn’t full of hobie, the pleasure, and the need to cum, immediately. 

“mmmf,” you wrap your legs around his neck. dig your fingers into his hair, and tug just in time for another gush of cum to come flowing out of your pussy. every muscle in your body has relaxed and become putty by now. you’re at hobie’s disposal and you love that.

“you’re so perfect, i’m devastated.” he kisses your inner thigh, continuing to trail those kisses up your stomach, between your tits, and onto your lips. he doesn’t wipe the cum off his face as he does it. instead, he makes you taste it, wrapping his tongue around yours and wetting your cheeks with the stickiness as your arousal as he does it.

“no you’re not. you won’t stay for me.” you whisper between kisses, running your hands along his bare chest under his shirt. you grab the hem and pull it up until hobie inevitably allows you to pull it off. it’s discarded and tossed onto the floor.

“i won’t stay for anyone. you know this.” he disconnects from the kiss, but only for a moment. during this time, he drops his pants to pull out his cock, raging from watching you cum not once, but twice. in the darkness, you can make out an outline of it, long and skinny with a mushroom tip and bulging veins. he’s been straining this whole time but hadn’t complained at all, loving every second of pleasing you. he could do it for hours if he had the time.

you resort to pouting as hobie sets your feet back onto the ground. with his hands on his hips, he turns you back around until your back is pressed against his chest, once again. “just say you hate me.”

“keep saying that and i’ll shove my dick in your mouth.” he says, aligning his tip with his sticky entrance. you don’t mention how his threat holds no weight if you’d enjoy it. instead, you play into it and huff, resting your hands flat on the counter.

you brace yourself when hobie begins to push deep into you. the stretch is painful at first, enough that you have to grit your teeth and will yourself to relax through the shallow thrusts to ease his way into you. it only takes a few seconds before the pain is blooming into satisfaction.

he fits so well inside you, filling you as if he was created solely for this purpose. you reach up, resting your hand on his cheek for a source of intimacy in the slow thrusts. you use the leverage of the counter to push your ass back to meet his thrusts.

you don’t know how much willpower you have to continue standing on your own when hobie is doing such a good job of fucking you dumb. even with the slow pace, you have to give in, leaning over the counter. to hobie, this is leverage for him to take control of the situation. he slots a large hand over your mouth and the other rests on the small of your back.

almost instantly, his thrusts increase tenfold. you’re certain if this was done on a bed, it would have been rocking with such an intensity against the wall. you grasp his hand covering your mouth with yours, almost screaming into his hand.

“shh, you’ll w – wake someone u – up.” he leans over you. hobie doesn’t compensate for the sound of skin slapping against each other by speaking louder. instead, he gets closer to you and because of that, angles his dick deeper into your cunt.

in this new state, you can hear every soft moan and whimper that leaves his mouth. he’s not rough about it, almost singing in your ear. his breath feels moist on your skin and adds to the fire burning in your core. “just t – take it, baby.”

you almost sob, rising onto your toes and writhe underneath him. it didn’t occur to you that you’d be overstimulated by the time you’ve reached this point. as much of your fault as it is, you like to blame most of it on hobie for pushing it this far. you wouldn’t be tempted to push him away, feeling as though he would be forcing another one out of you, if he didn’t.

you’re still, almost stuck in place. he’s too good at delivering. your body craves more and less of him at the same time. you’re certain you can feel him in your throat, ready to pop out the other side and through your mouth if this continues long enough. it’s driving you crazy, so crazy you squeeze your legs together.

it doesn’t last long because coincidentally, hobie hooks his hand under your leg and pushes it onto the counter. your cunt squelches as it swallows his size greedily. he’s obsessed with watching his length disappear inside you and the white sheen that surrounds the base. “shit, you’re gettin’ tight. gonna make me cum.”

you can only wail at his words and press your forehead against the granite. your legs have begun to quiver for the second time that night and you’re almost certain your insides are about to explode. you’re unsure what is building up inside you but it’s drawing from somewhere deep in the pits of your stomach and you’re getting nervous. there’s not much you can do about it, nor can you think about it too much because hobie’s fingers are rolling your clit between them.

the bud is all swollen and practically hot to the touch. you’re dripping down your own thighs at this point. there’s a musk that accompanies sex in the air, thick and sending you into a daze. your eyes flutter closed before they roll back. you let loose, weak streams of squirt falling into the floor beneath you.

“holy fuckin’ shit,” hobie pulls out of you so fast, you whine and crumple onto the floor. he, as the kind gentleman he is, don’t force your weak body to move positions again. instead, he steps to your side and turns your head with a hand under your chin. “open your mouth for me. atta’ girl.”

you watch him through half lidded eyes jerk his swollen cock in front of your face until he’s spurting cum all over it. your tongue dangles open and catches what remnants dribble downwards into your mouth.

hobie’s equally sensitive body stands there for a moment to catch his breath. he slowly lowers himself onto the ground until he’s able to run his thumb over your cum-covered face to collect some of it on the pad of his finger and swipe it over your tongue. “how do you feel? want water or something?”

you wordlessly shake your head and crawl into his arms, despite the fact that your face is ultimately covered in his nut. you don’t mention that what you really want to know is what happens now. “just want to shower and sleep.”

he looks at you, half asleep against him, and then around the kitchen and the few pieces of evidence left behind. for one, the scent has got to go. “i’ll get you into the bath and i’ll handle the cleanup, okay? you just rest your pretty little head.”

you’ve already beat him to it, humming in response and envisioning the comfort of your queen sized bed. if you considered things awkward before, just what until you see how you try to navigate it in the morning.

#ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓪𝔀𝓪𝔂 #hobie x black!reader #hobie smut #hobie brown #x black fem reader #astv hobie #x black reader #x reader #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n

[buck-yyyy]

Ok as someone equally obsessed with the goldfinch, something that has always bothered me is why Boris so casually dismissed their teenage sexual relationship at the bar years later, when he has been known to be overtly more accepting of queerness than Theo. Are we supposed to interpret that as him actually dealing with his own denial and internalized homophobia? Or do you think he just knew Theo would be uncomfortable discussing it because of his obvious internalized homophobia, so he brushed it off to avoid putting Theo in that position? Or both, something else, idk? Let me know your thoughts! That conversation haunts me.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO FASCINATING (i'm so sorry that i'm answering this almost a month late)

so i just answered another ask talking about a similar topic (boris' internalized versus externalized homophobia, which you mentioned in your ask), but this is far more specific so i'm gonna focus on what boris is--hope that's okay fsdhjsjfdk.

i think that his flippancy about the sex was less so related to homophobia or theo's discomfort, and moreso about the fact that in all likeliness, boris doesn't care all that much about it. to be honest, i really doubt he thinks about it at all!

boris strikes me as the kind of man who would simply not care to devote any significant amount of time to unimportant matters in his life. he knows who he is, and what he does.

his mother his polish, and his father is ukrainian, and yet he considers himself indonesian. not because he's indonesian by blood or family, but because "Indonesia is the place [he] want[s] to get back to," and therefore that's how he identifies.

does that make complete perfect sense? not personally to me, no--i've lived in one country my whole life, and my lineage is rather clear, so i'm not able to understand how that would feel to him and dictate where he feels he's from. but boris has a complicated relationship with who he is and where he's from--meaning that the lines are messy and not 100% objective.

i think that you can apply a similar line of thought to his sexuality. perhaps he genuinely thinks that him and theo having sex was simply because they needed girls. i'd argue that doesn't negate him being queer.

maybe this doesn't make sense. i suppose i'm trying to say that boris is a very fluid guy, who organizes his identity in ways that are specific to how he grew up, in ways that are complicated and difficult to understand if you've never experienced anything similar. i think that his opinions on his own sexuality would follow similar guidelines.

boris wouldn't consider himself bisexual, or pansexual, or gay or omni or queer or any of the other words that we can apply to him from an onlooker's perspective trying to understand him in terms that make sense to us. boris sees himself in terms of situation and want--and if boris wants to fuck a dude, well. i don't think that he'd think himself any different than anyone else.

so yeah. i think he might fully believe that sleeping with theo was because they needed girls. but i don't think that he bothers to repress his sexuality. i think that his reasoning for sleeping with men and women isn't easily distinguishable as a defined sexuality, it's simply about what he wants and how he feels in the moment.

#praying that this makes sense #the goldfinch #boreo #boris pavlikovsky #asks!!! #fave

[teatitty]

Netflix! Jaskier is canonically a damsel in distress who does always need Geralt to save him from monsters but he’s also unhinged in the sense that he: 1) shit talked a bunch of elves while they were talking about killing him (and he even said crap to them in Elder! their own language! the balls he has!), 2) was completely willing to let Yennefer die after she threatened him (fair enough), 3) his first “wish” was for Valdo Marx to die of apoplexy and 4) he has no real self-preservation once someone has caught his eye (see: his first meeting with Geralt) 

Jaskier has literally only lived this long out of sheer luck and, occasionally, Geralt saving his arse and that’s what makes his whole character so goddamn funny to watch on screen and we really need more content that goes into that I think

#the witcher #also he gets tongue tied and flustered around hot /dangerous/ ppl specifically #u see it with geralt yennefer AND tea and vea #so if anything JASKIER would be the one who gets flustered #and GERALT would be the one who seduces him into his bed #because geralt canonically doesnt really hesitate when it comes to sex #also geralt's been around for so goddamn long #that i doubt anything sex-related is gonna bother him #these tags got really geraskier in the end #oh well

[erwinsvow]

𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

summary: uncle eren comes to visit.

warnings: step-cest, jealousy, manipulation, hints of verbal/emotional abuse + touch of dubcon to con, reader feels guilty, grinding/dry-humping, overstimulation, orgasm denial, unprotected sex

author's note: part two of sole salvation. i really hope everyone enjoys this! the warnings are just to be on the safe side as i do not want to accidentally trigger anyone, please feel free to message me if you want to ask about something before reading.

tagging @sangwoos-mom & @divine-delight :)

If Zeke didn’t want my interest to get piqued, Eren thinks to himself as he watches you stroll away, off to get him to a fresh cup of lemonade, he should have kept his mouth shut.

When his brother had mentioned his new fiancee had a daughter, Eren had supposed it would be some spoiled, bratty kid. After all, he had met your mother once before, and he didn’t think that kind of a woman could raise someone even remotely well-behaved.

So given that, he was more than pleasantly surprised the first time he met you. It was all a shock, from the almost angelic way you float down the stairs to greet him, your soft skin and sweet smile, to the genuine look in your eyes when you tell him that you’re glad to finally meet him.

He still doesn’t know what Zeke did to deserve you in his life, the taste in his mouth a touch too bitter when he watches the way you look at his brother, even when your mom is in the same room. It’s dreamy, as though there’s no better way to spend your time and nothing better to think about than your step-father.

It’s a little unfair, Eren thinks, that Zeke has a sweet, doting little thing head over heels for him. It’s a little unfair that Zeke waited so long to invite him over, to introduce him to you. Maybe it was brotherly instinct, maybe he knew that once Eren met you, he wouldn’t be able to think about anything else, just like it had been for Zeke.

Regardless of what it was, Eren knew one thing for certain. Sibling should always share.

It finally takes an unbearable conversation on the phone with your mother for an excuse, an opportunity to arise. The lie is taking hold in his head and spilling out of his mouth before he can even control it—“Yeah, the pipes burst and it’s just a mess, I called Zeke but his phone’s off- no, really? Just for the weekend, I promise- thank you, I’ll be over soon.”

His bag is packed and cock is twitching at the idea of getting you alone in that house, maybe when Zeke’s locked away in his office and your mother’s out shopping. It’s going to be a hot week, with almost intolerable heat, and he’s positive it’ll have you in revealing clothes (no doubt ones that his brother bought for you) and teensy swimsuits when you go for an afternoon swim.

That’s what he’s thinking of—the image of you soaked to the bone, wet hair and the thin, dripping material of your suit sticking to your skin—when he pulls into your driveway later that day.

It’s almost easy enough to miss the slight wobble in your steps, the way your clothes are just a little too wrinkled for someone that’s been sitting around the house all day.

But Eren notices it, of course, and doesn’t miss the way Zeke practically keeps one eye on you the entire day, no matter who he’s talking to, either.

Maybe if Eren was just a drop stupider, a bit less cunning, you and Zeke could get away with all of it, but he’s not. He thinks it’s his turn to have his fun with you.

Your mother’s even more intolerable than he remembers. He wonders how bad a family dinner could be, but this is much worse than he could have fathomed. It’s a whole host of things, like how she’s oblivious to the affair happening right under her nose and her small comments that have your lips trembling and eyes blinking away tears before they can fall.

Jeez. Eren had initially felt bad for himself, but he’s starting to wonder how you put up with it. Maybe fucking around with Zeke is your own way of getting revenge, payback for every ‘Why do you look so tired, it’s not like you’re the one working all day’ and ‘Don’t you have plans with friends, or are you just gonna bother your parents all day?’

By the time dinner ends, you’ve made your way to the kitchen almost automatically, putting away dishes and wiping counters without even being told, as Zeke gives your mother a cold, hard stare.

“Was all that really necessary?” his brother questions quietly, eyes fuming with anger yet still disguising his true reason for being upset.

“What?” your mother responds innocently, pretending as though she hadn’t said anything wrong. Eren watches the interaction carefully. He thinks it’d be better if he didn’t interject on a married couple’s little spat, but here he goes again, words out before he can control them. They’re spoken a bit louder than they needed to be, but he wants to make sure you hear them over the running water.

“I don’t know, she seems like a good girl to me, no? Maybe you should be easier on her.”

And a few feet away, in the kitchen, your heart skips a beat. Uncle Eren—who you’d only met once and heard about a handful of times, someone who doesn’t owe you anything, someone not even really related to you—defending you?

It was enough to make tears rush to your eyes again, a smile on your face as you rinse off the dishes.

Good girl. The words run through your head again, seemingly on repeat. They’re your two favorite words, enough to pick you up from the dark, sullen headspace you’re in as a result of your mother’s cruel phrases and Zeke’s stinging silence.

Zeke claims it’ll become too obvious, even to your clueless mother, if he always takes your side and speaks up for you, despite how much he wants to, he says. You’re so hopelessly gone, so devoted to him that you don’t think you have it in you to fight for it. The words he says when the two of you are alone, how he makes you feel and spoils you rotten makes up for it, right?

That’s what you’d been telling yourself all this time, but you’re not sure how much longer you can keep the act going. Does he think it’s easy to watch him walk into the bedroom he shares with your mother every night? To watch her kiss him goodbye, hold onto his arm in public, while you trail behind like a lost puppy?

It’s not actually revenge you’re aiming for, when you start greeting Eren in the morning brightly, walking straight on over to him in the living room rather than the kitchen where your step-father is. It’s closer to a plea for attention, like you’re waiting for Zeke to realize you can play at this game too.

Eren’s more than happy to indulge you, spending hours of the day beside you on the couch watching movies, or watering the lawn while you work on your garden, claiming that he just wants to help out around the house as much as he can. His weekend-long visit turns into a week, as the ‘good for nothing contractors are taking their sweet time.’

It’s terribly easy to make you believe every word he’s saying, with you even defending him when Zeke asks how much longer he’s planning on sticking around.

“He’s family,” you had argued valiantly, leaving your step-father with narrowed eyes and a tense jaw as he noticed Eren smiling behind you. For once, your mother had agreed with you, and Zeke was left with no choice.

It’s sunny and warm when Eren’s opportunity, the one he’s been waiting for patiently, appears. Your mother’s gone out again, this time to the salon, there’s that hour of time right after she’s left that you usually treasure, because you know there’s no chance she’ll be on her way back or call home.

It’s usually your favorite time of the day, when you know you can have Zeke all to yourself, and that’s what you’re thinking, when you hesitantly make your way to the door of his office.

Truly, you hadn’t meant to make Zeke angry, you just wanted to be there for Uncle Eren how he was there for you. You were ready to make up and forget about it now, dolled up in a new sundress that you hadn’t gotten a chance to wear yet. Zeke had bought it only weeks ago, before Uncle Eren’s sudden visit, and you thought he might like it if you wore it now.

Your hand has just reached the cool metal of the doorknob, just about to twist when you hear a ringing from inside the room, of Zeke’s phone going off.

You step back, knowing better than to interrupt one of his calls. You’re disheartened a little, mind wondering why he would schedule something when you and he both know this is your hour, your chance to be alone.

You make your way back downstairs, lingering on the last step and thinking about going back up in a few minutes, when Uncle Eren’s voice calls to you from the living room, making you jump a little.

“Oh, sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, voice calm and quiet, a contrast to your thudding heart.

“That’s okay, Uncle Eren,” you say, and your head turns back to look in the direction of Zeke’s office inadvertently. “I was just-”

“Waiting for Daddy, huh?” Your lips part a little in surprise, confused by his implication. Though surely, Zeke wouldn’t have told Uncle Eren anything. No, he wouldn’t do that.

Right?

“I-I just needed to ask him something, but I think he’s on the phone with someone,” you say quietly, confused at Eren’s tone, the confidence with which he spoke those words, almost mockingly.

“Oh, yeah. He told me he’s busy all afternoon, something or other about work and a report-” Eren stops himself right when he notices your expression change, looking thoroughly upset that Zeke was busy when you were ripe for the taking. “He didn’t tell you about that?”

Fuel to the fire, maybe a bit too much, but Eren doesn’t care. Not as long as you keep it up, looking like a maimed little prey upon realizing that Daddy was too busy for you.

Yes, Eren was getting much better with the lying. It doesn’t even register to you to question his words, to go back up and double check, that Zeke might, in fact, be waiting for you to knock on his door at this very second.

Your feet find their way to the sofa, slumping down dejectedly, as Eren sits right next to you. It’s the way you two have been sitting for the past week, except he’s ready to take the risk. His hand finds your knee, thumb rubbing the soft skin as you let out a shaky breath, wiping away a stray tear.

“All afternoon?” comes your quiet voice, trembling at the mere notion that Zeke was upset with you. You hadn’t meant to take it this far, hadn’t thought he would be ignoring you just because you disagreed with something he said for the first time.

But your sadness is turning into something different when you look at the hungry, almost predatory way Uncle Eren is looking at you now.

“That’s what he said, sweetheart. Did you two have plans, or something?” It’s coming off nonchalant, or so he hopes, because every bone in his body is excited at the prospect before him, blood rushing to his hardening cock as he catches a glimpse of your exposed skin as you fiddle with the hem of your dress.

“N-no, I just… He always spends time with me when mom leaves. I just thought he would be free.”

It’s the sweet, lonely way you’re looking into his eyes, your own doe-like and watery, that tips him over the edge.

“Well, I can keep you company.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah, baby. A sweet thing like you shouldn’t be left all alone… it’s not right, well, at least to me.”

“Yeah?” Eren nods his head, line between his lies and the truth blurring suddenly as you inch closer and closer to him.

“I wouldn’t treat you like that, if you were mine, you know-” and he can’t finish his sentence, because your hands are on the collar of his shirt and you’re shifting onto his lap, and your lips are on each other.

It’s stupid, you know, to be so easily guided by a few choice words, putty in virtually anyone’s hands if they say the right things and make you feel seen and heard, but you can’t stop now.

Eren’s tongue is in your mouth, your lips practically glued together as you feel his hands go under the soft cotton of your dress, exploring the supple skin of your thighs. It’s not long before his hands find your ass, squeezing and groping as moan into his mouth.

A sharp slap to your ass makes you yelp, pulling away for just a second before Eren’s hand is on the back of your neck, guiding you into a kiss again. You moan again, louder, when his teeth bite down on your lip just a little bit, when Eren finally pulls away.

“Can’t be too loud, remember, sweetheart? Daddy’s busy upstairs,” he says, somehow knowing exactly what would rile you up. The words act like a little shock running through your system, making you even more eager for Eren’s touch.

“Don’t care-!” you mewl, head going fuzzy when you feel Eren’s hard cock grind against your core, waves of pleasure rushing through your body. You’re still, Eren’s hand coming up to cover your mouth as he continues his rocking movement, making you moan against his hand.

Your eyes roll back when Eren increases his speed, and it’s silly, how the barely-there contact is making you shake, the coil in your stomach tense and unwinding, when Eren stops completely.

You whine loudly, muffled some by his hand, but not entirely, causing Eren to spank you again.

“I thought you were a good girl, hm? Don’t get bratty on me now,” he says, though he thinks it went in one ear and out the other as you come down from your incomplete high.

“I want-I want you, Uncle Eren, now-!” Another whine, another spank. You cry out again, until the fourth slap—which leaves your ass sore already from Eren’s heavy-handedness—silences you.

“Sweetheart, stop misbehaving or you’re not gonna get anything, okay?” he coos, fingers finding your chin and directing your face to look him in the eyes. They’re lust-blown too, and his hardness is still evident underneath your body, but your body’s inclined to follow his rules, despite how badly you want to cum.

“Yes, Uncle Eren,” you say softly, your squirming body finally stopping. Eren’s fingers find their way to the thin straps of your sundress, pulling them until they rest on your shoulder and expose your neck and collar to him.

“Tell me something, baby, did you wear this for me? Or for him?” The very mention of Zeke makes your body stiffen, but you’re still desperate for more and eager to please Uncle Eren.

“For you,” you mumble, wanting to just bury your head in the crook of Eren’s neck and feel him inside you, though you know you won’t get what you want that easily.

“Me? I’m so honored,” he says, letting out a laugh at how your body shakes in anticipation but you stay completely still. He wonders if Zeke had to teach you to be this obedient, or if it just comes to you naturally.

He thinks it’s the latter when he rolls his hips quickly, watching you squirm and bite your lip hard to keep quiet, another rush of pleasure coursing through you, though it’s not nearly enough.

“It’s okay, baby, you’ve been good enough to me, haven’t you?” he asks, and you nod your head quickly. “You deserve to feel good, don’t you?” You nod again and let out a shaky breath when Eren moves your hips with his hands, finally giving you the much-needed pressure on your clit.

“Why don’t you cum for me, baby, just like this? Mmh?” You’re letting out little squeals at each contact, hips moving faster and faster as Eren lays back and lets you use his cock as a toy to grind against. His head falls back at how good it feels, though he won’t let himself cum until he’s inside you.

You’re close again, stomach tensing again and that familiar feeling gathering inside your chest, making you feel warm all over as you speed up.

The breaking point is when Eren’s hands come to your chest, pulling down your dress and exposing your tits to the cool air. His fingers pinch one while his mouth finds the other, and suddenly you can’t keep quiet no matter how hard you try, moans spilling out your mouth as well as repeated cries of Uncle Eren, that sound sweet as sugar to Eren.

It’s when Eren starts bucking his hips up too, that you finally cum, a bolt of pleasure running through your entire body as he keeps going. You’re not entirely sure what kind of noises you’re making—everything seems to be muted and fuzzy as repeated shocks make you shake, Eren’s firm grip on your tits being the only thing that’s grounding you.

When you finally come down, forcing yourself away from Eren’s lap and legs pressed tightly together to calm your oversensitive cunt, there’s a lecherous look in Eren’s eyes. It’s screaming to you, silently, how he’s not done with you yet.

“Aw, baby, look how fast you came just from a little bit of humping. Are you that desperate, bunny? Is Daddy not taking care of you?”

Your face feels like it might be on fire, blood and heat rushing at the same time and burning quickly with shame at the realization that Eren knew all along, that he’s been playing this little game with you since his arrival and you never, not once, had the upper hand.

He feels more predatory than ever before, spreading your legs despite how your legs ache and your core is burning—even if you wanted more, you don’t think you could take it—but it doesn’t seem like Eren cares.

“U-uncle Eren, we shouldn’t- h-he might-” you start, but are cut off as Eren presses a finger to your lips.

“Sweetheart, isn’t that a little unfair? If you get to cum, and I don’t? Be a good girl and spread for me,” he says, and you feel your body comply automatically.

Your back’s on the couch now, Eren hovering over you. All it would take is a few steps in this direction after coming down the stairs for someone to find you, but you can hardly care when Eren’s shoving your dress up, exposing your panties and shoving them to the side, your wetness on display for him.

“One day, baby, when Daddy’s not here, I’m gonna fuck you stupid with my tongue—just not today,” and the words go straight to your head. Your heart thuds uncomfortably in your chest every time he mentions Zeke, a sense of guilt washing over you and replacing the pleasure you feel, but you forget all about it when you see Eren undos his pants and take out his hardened cock.

It’s plainly wrong to compare it to Zeke’s, and though it might not be longer, it’s definitely thicker, not as pretty but covered in throbbing veins that you can’t even imagine feeling inside you.

Eren’s about to grant your wish, running his cockhead over your sensitive clit once, twice, and just as you're expecting a third, he pushes inside of you.

A strangled, loud moan escapes your lips before he can cover your mouth again. It’s agonizing, not being able to make a sound as your step-uncle fucks you into the couch, movements picking up and a steady pace filling the room with obscene noises. You can’t see where the two of you are connected, since your eyes are locked with Eren’s pretty green ones, but you know you’re making a mess.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, every thrust stretching you out, you think he’s ruined your cunt for anyone else—but that’s exactly what he wants.

It’s silent, save for the heavy patter of Eren’s balls against your ass with each thrust, the sound of his hips knocking with yours. He’s trying to keep his grunts silent, but it’s getting harder and harder with the way you’re clenching around him, so tight and wet and soft, he wonders what his brother did to deserve someone like you—he wonders why he doesn’t spend every minute inside you.

Your sensitive cunt tightens around him, knowing only another few strokes and grazes on your clit will be enough to tip you into your second orgasm. Your shaky hand finds Eren’s, pulling his wrist away from your face and meeting his lips again, releasing muffled moans into his mouth.

You know he’s close too, from the way his pace picks up, and you pull away just for a second, just to say three words.

“Please, Uncle Eren.”

And it’s enough to make his hips stutter, enough to uncoil the knot in your tense stomach and have your orgasm washing over you, as you feel Eren fill your cunt with his hot cum. Your lips are on each other, the lewd squelching of his slowing thrusts matching the small squeaks you release, until he finally pulls out and your panties snap back over your leaking cunt.

It’s hard to catch your breath, from your position laying down, feeling your tight hole throb and Eren’s cum spill out, probably onto the sofa seat. You adjust the top of your dress, covering your tits and pulling one strap up. When you’re fixing the skirt, you feel Eren’s hands pull the other strap onto your shoulder, hands lingering on your exposed skin.

You shy away from looking at him, despite how his cum is still inside you. It feels too intimate, almost, because a part of you thinks you were taken advantage of, and another part of you doesn’t ever want Eren to leave you.

Eren’s fingers find your chin, forcing you to look up and meet his gaze. You blink quickly, licking your swollen lips and biting the inside of your cheek nervously.

Neither of you speak, though you know what’s lingering in the air. You can tell he’s gotten what he wanted, and he’s going to leave, and yet you can’t stop yourself from speaking first, throat scratchy and dry and your words nothing more than a whisper.

“C-can I… did you- did you mean all those things you said? Before?”

And suddenly Eren understands everything, why you’re this way, why you need to be validated so badly, why his brother’s such a good match for you. He thinks he’d sacrifice anything too, like his marriage and a new life, just to make you happy.

“Of course I did, sweetheart. I meant every word of it.”

“Really?” There’s a soft smile on your lips, your eyes watery and he thinks it doesn’t have anything to do with how hard he fucked you.

“Yeah, I-”

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeke’s voice comes from behind you.

#... uh yeah <3 step uncle eren #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren yeager imagine #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x reader #eren x reader #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger imagine #eren jaeger x reader #aot #fics #tw step cest #tw dubcon

[httpjeon]

SEHEBON ― KTH (M.)

synopsis. you find yourself on izo huen, home to the sehebon. luckily for you, you've arrived at an interesting time.

pairing. taehyung/reader genre. angst, fluff, smut au. alien!au wordcount. 16,580 contents. Huge Dick Tae, cocky!tae, soft!tae, protective!tae, lowkey possessive!tae, human!kink, slight harrassment, dom/sub themes, size kink, size difference, sensitivity kink?, orgasm kink?, cunt slapping, breath play, dry humping, cunnilingus, fingering, cumflation, belly bulging, lowkey consent kink, unrealistic sex but it’s aliens what do u expect, lots of mention of humanity note. tae just wants to learn human things ):

blog masterlist. made of stardust masterlist.

© httpjeon 2020. do not repost, modify, or translate.

It had been a little over a half a year since your move to the Vela System of the Fanet IV Galaxy courtesy of the Interplanetary Relations Commission had begun. You were still adjusting to your new environment, Izo Huen being a vastly different place compared to Earth in terms of culture and climate.

"So, to wrap up the events of this past week," you shifted in your chair, staring into the lens of the camera you used to send reports to your superiors, "I met with the head of the Embassy for a dinner in order to meet the head of Izo Huen's military. The only way I can describe the whole interaction is...tense. Warrior Sehebon are truly another level of terrifying. Horrible burns across their bodies correlate with the information we had about their rituals. They wear the burns with pride, however ― a mark of bravery I suppose. The middle of the week was rather uneventful," you shifted in your seat, leaning over just out of frame to take a sip of your water. You stared at the arched ceiling, thinking of anything that could come to mind of importance to note. Outside your window, you could see people walking through the streets, laughing and chatting with one another.

"Oh!" you sat up straight again, "The monthly market came back once again. This time it was mostly vendors from Liana. They had the most amazing fruits I'd ever seen ― nothing like Earths. They were delicious too, so sweet. I wish I could send some back for everyone to be able to taste. You know," your gaze shifted out your window again, to the people bustling about, "Things got really hectic here in Fia recently, I don't know what it is. They're hanging banners up and there seems to have been an extreme increase in population of the city. I'm not completely sure what's going on."

After ending your weekly log and sending it to your fellow researchers on Earth, you downed the rest of your water and groaned. Izo Huen was sweltering hot, the two suns that hung in the sky upping the temperature past comfortable.

You couldn't wait for night to come, the freezing cold giving you a wonderful excuse to cuddle under the wool blankets.You decided to take a bath to pass the time, as it would be night in just a few hours. Plus, you desperately wanted to wash the days grime off your body.

By the time you woke up the next day, you were acutely aware of how incredibly loud it was outside. Shouts and cheers emanated from just outside your window. So with sleep-filled eyes you hurriedly dressed yourself and rushed out to see what the fuss was all about.When you stepped out of the door, you were shocked by the incredible crowd of people filling the streets.

Banners and streamers, even balloons, decorated every inch that could be covered. The alphabet was one you hadn't yet learned to decipher so the meanings were completely lost on you.

"Excuse me?" you asked a nearby woman. She was much taller than you ― a key trait in both men and women of their race. She turned and looked down at you with surprise in her eyes, "What's going on?"

"It's the pre-celebration," she answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

She turned her back to you once again and quickly disappeared into the crowd and you sighed. Sehebon citizens were still getting used to their planet being visited by other races outside their own solar system ― they were the newest planet to be opened for visits by the Interplanetary Commission.

It unfortunately resulted in some of the citizens to hold ill feelings towards those entering their cities.

Sighing, you decided to follow the flow of the crowd to appease your own rabid curiosity. A lot of the cultural information on Sehebon had yet to be discovered or disclosed, as a race that held their own traditions close to their hearts.

You were surprised that the place everyone was flocking to was the massive Colosseum that was centered in the very middle of the city. Larger than any stadium found on Earth, you'd never had the opportunity to find out what it was for.

In your excitement to get through the crowd of large Sehebon, you stumbled over your own feet and hit the ground hard ― knocking the air out of you. The crowd didn't wait, stepping over you and for a second you were scared you would be literally crushed under a stampede.

However, strong hands grabbed your arms and lifted you up, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the crowd. You stumbled trying to catch up, with his large steps while trying not to end up slammed into unsuspecting people.

The person tugging you pulled you out of the crowd and rounding the stone walls until you realized the amount of people had dissipated. You had the opportunity to look at the person who had helped you ― a male Sehebon finding a safe spot for you and finally slowing down.

"I...thank you," you muttered when he didn't say anything, his back still facing you.

"You're a human right?" he asked, finally turning to you. You choked on your own spit at the sight of him ― black hair hanging over two pretty dark eyes. He was tall, probably a little above average for his race and he was absolutely gorgeous, "I heard there was one staying in Fia but...damn."

"Uh...I'm an advocate for the Interplanetary Commission," you sputtered out, unable to break your gaze away from his face. He had tanned skin, smooth as could be with a jaw so sharp it could cut glass, "I'm from Earth, yes. My name is _____."

"Incredible," he moved closer, having to lean down to look at you how he wanted. You could feel his breath on your face and you could see the way he had one mono-lid and one double ― which was absolutely adorable, "My name is Taehyung...you know, you're so...small."

"I-I'm actually quite average," you refuted, glancing away under the power of his gaze.

"Maybe by human standards but..." he straightened up, looking around, "You should be careful. You can get hurt easily, you're lucky I saw you fall and bothered to help you."

"Bothered..." you whispered with a soft scoff. You could still feel his eyes on you, burning into you as if he was analyzing every inch of you, "Hey, so what's going on anyway?"

"You don't know?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow when you shook your head.

"I asked someone and she just said it was a pre-celebration," you shrugged.

"Yeah sort of," Taehyung gnawed at the inside of his cheek, jaw cocking to one side at the action, "It's gonna be our lottery in a few days so we come to the stadium to get our tickets."

"Wait...lottery? Like a money thing?" you asked, "You guys have that?"

"What?" Taehyung shook his head, staring at you like you were stupid and you suddenly felt embarrassed.

"O-On Earth we have this thing called a lottery and...you scratch these little papers and you can win money," you explained, hoping to help him make sense of you assumption.

"Huh, that's interesting," he actually did seem interested and maybe a little impressed, making you feel weirdly proud, "But no, that's not what we have. Once a year the government holds a lottery here in Fia, in the stadium. You draw and if your number is picked you gotta fight."

His words made you blank out.

Fight?

They had to fight?

"What the hell?" you sputtered before you could stop yourself and Taehyung cocked his head to the side.

"Have you not read any of the banners and information sheets floating around?" he asked, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets, "They put them up to inform new visitors of what's going on, you know."

"I..." you cleared your throat, suddenly feeling embarrassed again, "Can't read the alphabet."

Taehyung went quiet for a minute before he snorted, beginning to laugh way too much for the simple problem you had. Your cheeks burned as he held his stomach, no doubt aching from how hard he was laughing.

"Oh my gosh!" he choked, wiping under his eyes, "Y-You're illiterate!"

"I am not illiterate!" you gasped, ears beginning to burn now at his accusation, "I-I just haven't had a need to read the alphabet! Since we speak the same language, you know?!"

"Okay, okay," he sniffled, finally calming down from his outburst. He looked down at you and cooed, placing his hand on your head, "Aw, don't-don't pout, I'm sorry. You're so cute!"

"St-Stop making fun of me!" you whined, petulantly stomping your foot which just made him coo more at you, calling you cute.

"I'm not making fun of you!" he argued, standing at his full height again, making you look up, "Isn't it only natural that I find the small little human girl cute? You're so...small."

"So you keep saying," you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest, "Are you going to go into the stadium?"

"Yeah, probably a little while later," he shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets, "It'll calm down soon enough and it'll be less hectic. You're welcome to wait with me, if you'd like."

"I might as well," you sighed, leaning back so you rested your shoulder against the wall, "I'll probably literally be killed if I try to go in there at this point."

"Probably," he agreed, looking away from you when you squinted up to glare at him, "Say..." He looked back at you, head cocked to the side curiously, "Is it true Earth has a lot of oceans? And only one Sun?"

"Eh? Yeah, that's right," you nodded, making him hum, "You've never been to Earth?"

"Nah, can't afford to make that trip," he sighed, sliding down the side of the wall to sit on the ground, "I read about it when the news that we'd be open for visits from them, though. Here sit," he tugged your hand until you were finally sitting beside him.

"About this...fight," his head lulled to the side as he gazed at your through his lashes, "What...why do you guys do it? How's it work?"

"Well," he rested his hands on his bent knees, head resting against the wall behind him again, "You know majority of our planet is uninhabitable right?"

"Yeah, dominated by deadly deserts that will kill even Sehebon," you replied mechanically, having studied their landscape immensely on your voyage from Earth.

"Then you also know there's only a few, select places suitable for us to live," you nodded and he continued, "We have three cities on Izu Huen, Fia our capitol, Veles, and Holis. That isn't a lot of room for an entire planet to live, right? We have to stay within the habitable zone and fit every person on the planet in the cities. Excluding those that have the means to move to Vimoldara, that is. That's a lot of people, isn't it?"

"Wait," you sat up straighter, jaw dropping open, "You mean, it's a form of population control?"

"That and," his gaze turned much darker, sending a chill up your spine, "It's a chance for us to show each other how strong we are. That we're the best and we deserve to live, we offer more. Those who lose are killed and only the winner can stand."

"That's..." you cleared your throat uncomfortably, "That's scary."

"Not for us," Taehyung shrugged, casting a sideways glance your way, "It's a celebration. We're all excited and ready to do it. We get to make our families and ancestors proud as we fight."

You hummed, still weary of the lottery but kept the rest of your opinions to yourself. You and Taehyung dissolved into talking about things he was curious about on Earth, deciding it would be worth it to travel there simply after hearing what a cheeseburger was.

The suns began to set when Taehyung stood, helping you to your feet.

"We should be able to get in easily now," you followed him to the large entrance that you'd been unable to see past when you had first approached.

With the smaller influx of people, you could see fully inside the stadium. There were banners and decorations strewn about everywhere, a wash of white, red and black colors seeming to be the theme. In the very center of the stadium was a booth with a man standing inside, handing things out to the people in line.

"I hope he doesn't think I'm here to pick a lottery," you mumbled to yourself as you stood in line with Taehyung. He was still holding onto your hand as you waited, large fingers wrapping completely around your wrist, making the size difference more apparent.

He really was right when he said you were small. But his hand was so warm and comforting against your skin that it made you feel...cute.

"Nah, they won't assume a foreigner is here to participate," he said, not breaking his gaze from the booth.

By the time you reached the booth, the suns were down to just peeking over the horizon and the moon was, instead, shining large in the sky. The temperature was dropping and you couldn't help but move closer to Taehyung for warmth. You weren’t dressed to be out at night, you’d only anticipated spending the daytime hours out.

"Thank you," he said, tucking a slip of paper into his pocket after folding it up. The man behind the booth nodded, waving the next person forwards.

He began to walk when he paused, looking down at you with wide eyes. You scrambled to detach yourself from his side, not realizing just how close you were to him. However, you were quickly brought back when he pulled you flush against him again with a small smile.

"You humans are so fragile," he breathed, beginning walk, keeping you tucked into his side. Your face was burning with embarrassment but you also felt a strange sense of pride flowing through you at the prospect of such a good looking man treating you like he was.

"I-It just gets really cold here, you know?" you mumbled, trying to defend yourself albeit weakly.

His chest vibrated with his laughter, tightening his hold around your shoulders, "I guess if you're not used to it. You live around here?"

"Uh yeah," you pointed in the general direction of where you were staying, "I live down this road a ways."

"Alright, I'll walk you there," he offered, though he left no option to refuse.

You both fell silent as you walked, every once in a while another person would pass and stare at the two of you. Their eyes followed you even as you passed, turning back to stare at you and you began to feel strange about it.

"Why is everyone looking at us like that?" you asked suddenly, making him look down. The moonlight cast a soft glow on his face causing the shadow of his lashes to dust his cheeks.

"Probably because you're a human and you're with me," he answered as if it was the most normal thing in the world, "It's not exactly common for Sehebon and foreigners to be together yet."

You swallowed thickly, cheeks burning for the thousandth time that day it seemed.

It wasn't long before you reached the stoop of your house and you dislodged yourself from Taehyung, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep in the warmth you now missed.

"Um thanks for walking me home," you said, shrugging your shoulders self-consciously as his eyes scanned over your body.

"It was my pleasure," he leaned closer to you, "Hey, why don't you come to the celebration in a couple days, hm?"

"You mean the fighting?" you asked, feeling uneasy at the invitation. He nodded eagerly, eyes bright in excitement, "Taehyung, I do understand it's an important practice for you...it's your culture. But humans and Earth...it's punishable to kill someone. It's against the law. We find the concept of death scary...you know?"

His head cocked to the side, brows furrowed and the excitement in his eyes gone, "You're scared to die? And you don't like to see others die?"

"Exactly, it's...it's a very negative thing for humans," you attempted to explain while trying not to upset him.

"You know being invited to a fight is a very special thing," he muttered with a frown, leaning close to you so his nose was touching yours. Your eyes grew wide at the fire burning in his eyes and you swallowed nervously, "It's very offensive to reject an invitation to a fight. I want to show you how good I am, how well I can fight. I want you to be proud of me. Impressed by me."

Your mouth grew dry at his words and the way he uttered them, deep voice dark and no hint of the gentleness he had spoken with before. You attempted to move back but found your back pressed against the door. He loomed over you, leaning on his forearms above your head ― caging you in. Strangely, the only thing you could think of was how good he smelled; like the fruits you'd eaten a couple days ago.

"I-I'm sorry, Taehyung," you whispered, licking your lips in an effort to rid yourself of your nerves, "I just...Y-You don't need to kill someone t-to impress me, you know?"

"Then how can I?" he squinted, "I find you fascinating. A cute little human girl, smart and charming. I want to...what is it you humans call it...court you?"

You wanted to smile at the sound of the outdated term he used. But it was stopped by his confession, of what he thought of you.

"W-Well...you're trying to court a human girl..." you spoke slowly, meeting his eyes in faux confidence even though your heart was beating a mile a minute, "Why don't you try...a human method?"

"A human method," he gnawed on the inside of his cheek ― apparently a habit he had while thinking, "What are human methods?"

"Well um..." you noticed that with his body covering yours like it was, you weren't affected by the cold and that your trembles were no doubt excitement, "Like...dates. Do you guys have dates?"

"Usually an invitation to fight for someone to see is sufficient enough to begin a relationship," he explained, making you sigh. He frowned at the sound and leaned closer to you to meet your gaze, "Tell me what to do and I'll do it."

"F-For humans usually a man will ask a woman on a date," you explained simply, "Like...you would ask to take me to see a movie or take me to dinner."

"A dinner," he repeated, seeming to mull it over for a moment before nodding. The dark look was gone and he smiled the cutest boxy smile you'd ever seen in your life, "Then I'd like to take you to dinner, _____."

"I'd like that, Taehyung," you smiled, feeling your cheeks burn under his soft gaze.

"After my fight, to celebrate my win I'll take you."

"Alright, Taehyung, I look forward to it," after what seemed like an eternity, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes, he finally stood up straight. The cold immediately began to sink into your bones and he stepped back off your stoop.

"See you soon, cutie," he waved, twiddling his fingers before spinning on his heel and walking in the direction you both had just came from.

You opened your front door, slipping inside and relaxing once the warmth hit you. Leaning back against the door, you pressed your hand to your chest and sighed.

"Not how I expected my day to turn out," you mumbled, taking a seat at your chair in front of the camera, turning it on so the red light blinked indicating recording, "I know it hasn't been a week yet but I've found something interesting. I met a man named Taehyung and he told that they're about to begin a planet-wide lottery. Everyone draws a number and they're picked to fight. It's a...form of population control and some kind of cultural flex on each other to show who is the toughest and bravest. The fights are set to take place in a few days and I was invited but...I had to decline. The prospect of watching it was just too much for me to consider so I apologize for that."

You went quiet for a second, deciding to leave out the fact that the invitation was an attempt to ask you out. You greeted the people who would be watched goodbye and shut off the camera, turning to your computer monitor and hurriedly sending the video before shutting everything down.

The city was quiet for the next few days, everyone packed into the stadium. You would frequently hear the thunderous roar of the crowd but ultimately did your best to block out the prospect of the death no doubt going on.

You laid on your bed, reading a book you'd read several times already but lacked the means to acquire a new one. You wouldn't be able to read the books in an alphabet you couldn't read. Though you could take the time to learn but, you were in no mood to study.

As expected, you found yourself thinking of Taehyung. He was charming, no doubt, and you were surprised by how much you ultimately enjoyed his company. It was quick that he decided he wanted to date you, by human standards anyway, but Sehebon were very fast-moving people as more than half their race were warriors who could be killed in the blink of an eye. No doubt a cause for Taehyung's rush to be with you.

You couldn't deny the complete attraction you had for him; he was incredibly good looking and had the cutest smile. His voice was hypnotic, smooth as whiskey and as deep as the ocean. Dating someone of a completely different species wasn't the strangest thing by far ― plenty of humans had counterparts from different races. Dating a Sehebon, on the other hand, was different since the brand new introduction of their race to humans.

There was no fear that Taehyung would bring you any harm or have ill intentions, there was just a lot of confusion about him. You didn't exactly know much about who he was as a person rather than his race.

The date would no doubt clear things up and open doors for you.

Remembering the fact you would be going on a date with him set butterflies off in your tummy and you bit your lip to hold back the gleeful grin that threatened to spread across your face.

It was a full week before the streets became the same again. The population of Fia went back to normal as visitors from other cities left and went back home. The banners were taken down from around your street and before long everything seemed to have returned to the way it was.

Unfortunately, you were running out of food so you needed to go food shopping. As the suns were beginning to set, with the temperature steadily dropping, is when you decided to go shopping.

You slid a sweater on to keep you warm before stepping out the door. It was still a little warm but you knew you'd be grateful for your choice later.

In the past, you'd made the mistake of forgoing something warm and had to quite literally run home before you froze to death.

You carried a bag, an effect from when you lived on Earth and refused to use plastic bags in fear they'd end up in the oceans. When you first presented the bag at the local grocers, the cashier had looked at you like you were stupid ― making you feel just a tad self-conscious.

Fortunately, they'd now grown used to your practice and barely batted an eye in response when you brought.

The shop wasn't busy during that time of day and you were thankful to be able to navigate the aisles without having to avoid the giant Sehebon people that easily blocked your shelf access. You packed your bag with things you were vaguely familiar with. There was a lot of food you didn't dare try ― you couldn't read what it said or it was just gross looking.

Unfortunately, however, the shelves were so damn tall that you sometimes had to scale them to actually reach the things you needed. Standing on your tippy-toes using one of the shelves to grab a simple box of noodles ― something you were very pleased to find on Izo Huen.

You chose a lot of fruits and vegetables ― trusting them more than their alien-meats. You were basically the alien version of a vegetarian at that point.

When you stepped outside, you were immediately grateful of the sweater you wore. The cold still seemed to seep in a bit but it was tolerable despite the light shivers that took you. Carrying your bag, you hummed a tune to yourself as you navigated the darkening streets. The lamps were lit to illuminate your way but there were no other people in sight, making you feel calm.

"Hey, you a human?" scratch that, there were people.

You paused, looking into an alleyway separating two residential streets. A small group of young men were smoking cigarettes. Part of you wondered if they were cigarettes or some Izo Huen-version.

"Yes I'm a human," you replied, pulling your bag off your shoulder to hold it in front of you.

"You want a hit?" one of them asked you, offering you what he was smoking off of.

"N-No thank you," you backed away slightly to get away from the smoke emanating off the burning end, "I really should be getting home...I have things to put away."

You turned to walk away but a hand aggressively gripped your arm to stop you, startling a gasp out of you.

"Hey, that hurts," you mumbled, attempting to tug your arm free but he tugged you closer to him, "Let go!"

Before he had the chance to speak, a hand was violently wrapped around his throat and slammed him back. He pulled you with him slightly, knocking you to the ground as the man was pinned to the wall. Looking up, you could see Taehyung leaning close to him ― whispering something that had the man's eyes widening.

"Do you understand?" Taehyung growled, loud enough for you to hear. The man nodded so hard you were sure he was going to give himself a headache. Taehyung held him still for several more seconds, looking over him to make sure he was telling the truth.

When the man was dropped, he took off down the alleyway with his friends following, none of them daring to look back.

"Are you alright?" he asked, crouching down to where you were sitting on the ground. He cupped your cheek ever so softly, thumb grazing beneath your eye, "I didn't mean for you to get knocked down."

"It's alright," you muttered, using his shoulders to pull yourself back to your feet. He remained crouched for a moment, just gazing up at you silently, "W-What is it?"

"You should be more careful, _____," he said, picking up the bag of groceries you had dropped, tucking some of the things that had been knocked out back in where they belonged, "Didn't I tell you that you could get hurt?"

"W-Well yes but that was different― "

"It wasn't," he snapped, moving close to you once again. Fingers hooked beneath your chin to make you look at him, "Don't you understand how much people want you? How they look at you when you walk around?"

"N-No..." you blinked as you tried to recall any staring while you were on your own.

"Everyone finds you alluring here, _____," Taehyung's voice dropped and he stepped even closer so your foreheads were just barely touching, "The cute little human girl. And I'd be very disappointed if I had to kill someone for hurting you."

You were speechless, lost staring in the fiery blaze within his eyes. He held your gaze for several seconds before stepping back and smiling.

"I'll walk you home, I was on my way to see you anyway," you sputtered in shock as he tugged your hand in the direction of your home ― his rapid change of demeanor no doubt going to give you whiplash.

Your feet pounded the pavement as you struggled to keep up with his large strides. You were running out of breath and stamina, though he appeared unaffected.

"T-Tae...can you s-slow down?" he halted in his tracks so suddenly that you fully ran into his back.

"What did you call me?" he looked over his shoulder, staring sharply down at you.

"I-I..." you pulled yourself away from his back and stuttered, "I called you Tae. I'm sorry i-it just slipped out...h-humans like to make n-nicknames, you know?"

He was quiet for a second before he turned around completely, cocking his head to the side.

"Say it again," he commanded.

"Uh...T-Tae?" the name sounded more awkward than it had before coming out of your mouth.

"Hmm," he made a noise akin to a moan, rolling his head back in response before looking down and smirking, "I like that. You're the only one allowed to call me that, yeah?"

"A-Alright," your heart was racing from the way he had reacted to the nickname but you didn't get to dwell on it long before he was tugging you along once again.

You stood on your stoop again, looking at Taehyung, a small smile on his lips as he watched you. He held your bag of groceries out for you and you had to hold back a gasp when your hand brushed his.

"Shit, your hands are freezing!" he gasped, taking one of your hands in his and bringing them closer to him.

"U-Uh yeah it's...pretty cold," your words came out a whisper, reveling in how warm his hands were against yours.

"Poor thing," your eyes widened as he pulled your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your fingers.

"T-Tae," the nickname had his eyes flicking up and he hummed, pressing another kiss against them.

"Did you like that?" he dropped your hand from his lips but continued to hold it, smiling at you, "I read in a book about common human practices for courting and it said a kiss to the hand will make her heart flutter. Did it work?"

"I..." you swallowed thickly, nodding your head ever so slightly, "I-It was nice, Tae..."

The two of you fell quiet, his hand enveloping yours and his soft gaze fixated on you. Your groceries hung in his free hand and he slowly reached out to hand them to you once again. Once the bag was in your hands, he released your hand from his hold and shoved his own into his pockets. He stepped backwards off the stoop but continued to stare at you, bottom lip tucked in his mouth.

Your eyes danced over his body ― never really looking him over that much besides his face. He had a black button-up tucked into tight fitting jeans and boots that made him even taller than he already was. It surprised you how thick his thighs were but how small his waist was ― it's like he was sculpted by actual gods.

"Well," he smirked, no doubt having caught you staring, "See you around, cutie."

"Hey, Tae wait!" you called before you could stop yourself.

He halted immediately, turning to look at you once again, "You alright?"

"I just..." he jogged back to the stoop, stepping up and moving close to yours.

He cupped your chin between his fingers and made you look up at him.

"You can tell me, sweetheart," his brows were drawn together in concern.

The pet name causing a shiver to go down your spine, "What is it?"

"C-Can...Would you...like to stay for a while?" your cheeks were on fire and you couldn't meet his gaze after whispering the words.

Taehyung's eyes softened and his lips quirked up, running his thumb over your lips for a split second ― so light you almost missed it. He stood up straighter, removing his fingers from your face. You found yourself missing the touch and your heart was pounding at the possible rejection you could face.

"Were you nervous to ask me that, baby?" your core lit on fire at the new pet name and you held in a whimper, "I'd love to stay with you."

"O-Okay..." you reached behind you, turning the knob and pushing the door open.

Warmth hit you from the inside and you scurried out of Taehyung's view as fast as you could to the kitchen. You could hear him walking, the sound of his boots on the floor seeming deafening in the silence of the house. Leaning against the counter, you took a few deep breaths to steady yourself.

You began putting your groceries away in their designated places, noticing that Taehyung's footsteps had gone silent.

"This place given to you by your job?" he asked suddenly, making you jump.

"Um...yeah," you cleared your throat, "It's nothing special but it's cozy."

"It's nice," he muttered before falling silent.

You placed the box of noodles in your cabinet, steeling yourself before moving to the living room. Your brain nearly short-circuited at the sight before you.

Taehyung sat on your couch, legs spread wide and arms stretched out on the back of the couch. His head was tilted back, exposing beautiful expanse of throat. The way he sat was so confident and commanding that you had to clench your thighs together to control yourself.

"Um...are you okay?" you whispered, stepping forward as he lifted his head to look at you.

"I'm perfect," he responded, scooting to the side to allow you to sit beside him, "I think I've figured out a place to take you on our date."

"Oh?" you'd nearly forgotten about the date, "So you're ready to take me?"

"I'm thinking tomorrow, if that's okay," he looked down at you and you smiled.

"I'd love that," your gaze fell to your thighs, noticing the size difference between his and yours ― reminding you of how large he was.

Flicking your eyes up, you were frozen by the sharpness in his own as he stared at you. As you kept his gaze, you felt one of his hands find its way to your thigh and you bit your lip to keep from outright whimpering at the feeling.

"You're so soft," he muttered, shifting to turn more towards you, "And absolutely breathtaking..."

His lips drew closer to yours, his hair brushing your nose as he dipped down. When he pressed them completely, his hand tightened around your thigh. You whimpered, seeming to set Taehyung off as he cupped the back of your head with his free hand ― deepening the kiss.

Your hands clutched at the front of his shirt, losing yourself in the feeling of his lips and hands on you. The hand on your thigh traveled up, grazing your hip, drifting up your stomach and over your breasts before wrapping around your throat. You gasped at the feeling, lips parting from Taehyung's just slightly before you surged back forward to reconnect them.

He groaned against your lips, giving your neck the lightest squeeze before he released you and reached lower to cup your breast through your sweater. You arched your back into the muffled touch but he didn't linger for long because his hand was diving between your legs.

Your jeans impeded you from feeling his touch properly and you whimpered, grinding your hips forward in hopes to remedy the problem. You reached down, holding his hand against your core as you whimpered into his lips.

"Do you want me to touch you, pretty baby?" he asked, kiss parting until your lips just barely brushed his.

"P-Please Tae," you whimpered, feeling your eyes sting with tears of desperation ― having never wanted to be touched so badly in your life.

Taehyung didn't reconnect the kiss, instead he tilted your head back to press his lips to your neck. His long fingers unbuttoned your jeans and hurriedly tugged them off your hips until you finally reached down to pull them off completely, tossing them away.

The way you cried out when his hand cupped you again, this time through your panties, was nothing less than lewd. He tugged your thighs open further, one of them resting across his own, leaving you completely open to his fingers.

"Sound so pretty," he mumbled, teeth grazing your neck where he continued to mouth at you.

You wrapped one hand around his wrist, dragging his fingers up ever so slightly until you were able to push them past the band of your panties. He immediately took over, fingers diving between your folds to find just how wet you were for him. He groaned, pulling away from your neck to meet your gaze, his lips open just slightly as he brushed against your clit. Your hips twitched and you found yourself clinging to his arm as you whined.

"So sensitive, little one," he whispered, wrapping his free hand around your thigh to pull you even closer to him until you were completely in his lap with your back tucked to his chest.

"Tae..." you whispered, eyes fluttering closed when he began to press kisses to your shoulder ― the sweater not allowing you to feel it properly but enjoying it nonetheless.

"Yeah baby?" he cooed, resting his chin on your shoulder to watch his hand move beneath the fabric of your panties.

"C-Can..." you trailed off, feeling your cheeks burn and he tsked.

"Tell me what you want and I'll do it, baby," he assured, fingers now running across your folds without dipping between ― teasing you.

"Can you...take them off?" you asked, turning your head slightly to meet his gaze.

"If that's what you want," he pulled his hand out of your panties and you whimpered at the loss, making him chuckle, "So needy, huh?"

His thumbs hooked into the band and he pushed them down your thighs. You pulled your legs up to help him take them off ― tossing them off somewhere else to join your jeans. He gripped your knees, roughly tugging them open until your cunt was completely exposed to him ― glistening in the dim light and flushed swollen with your arousal.

"Fuck, babygirl..." he breathed, reaching down to run his fingertips through your parted folds, "Such a pretty little pussy, hm?"

Deep in your mind, you wondered where he learned such delicious dirty talk from ― seeing as he didn't even know the proper word for courting. The thought was completely wiped from your mind, however, when he used two fingers to spread your folds open. Your hole clenched around nothing and Taehyung let out a choked groan.

"St-Stop staring!" you whined, snapping your thighs closed around his hand.

Taehyung growled, wrapping his hand around your throat again and pulling the back of your head against his chest. You whimpered, eyes flicking up to briefly catch his glare. His jaw was set, glaring down at you with a gaze that made you feel incredible small.

"Spread your fucking legs," he ordered, tone making your eyes flutter slightly. When you hesitated to do as he said, he leaned closer until his mouth brushed your ear, "I said...spread your legs."

You whimpered, bottom lip trembling as you pouted, slowly opening your legs back up. Too slow for his liking, he jerked one open and pinned the other down until you were just as exposed as before. His hand cupped your entire core, middle finger sliding between the folds.

"That's more like it," he sighed, finally releasing your neck, "You better act right, baby, or else I'll have to punish you."

His words made you tremble, thighs twitching ever so slightly. He raised a brow at your reaction, an almost detached look coming across his face.

"Would you like that? To be punished?" when you only whimpered, he smirked, "I see...how would you like it, hm? To be choked until your lungs burn for air? Or maybe if I spanked your little cunt?"

"Tae..." you felt your hole clench, sending a gush of arousal to meet his fingers.

"Oh?" he chuckled, making you cheeks burn, "You'd like to be slapped, huh?"

Before you could even think up a reply from your foggy brain, a sharp pain right against your clit had you crying out. Your eyes found his face but he was watching as he smacked your cunt again. His fingers ran over your folds to soothe the sting and he laughed.

"Interesting..." he hummed, middle finger circling around your clit. Your eyes fluttered and your hips arched into the touch more.

His index and ring fingers spread your folds, his middle finger swirling over the hardened bud until you were moaning. He pulled the hood back, exposing it even more to his sensitive touches. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you choked out his name.

"Does that feel good?" he asked, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, "Does it feel nice to have your little clit touched?"

"Y-Yes!" you squeaked, reaching down to take hold of his wrist. Your body was practically vibrating as you trembled beneath the almost too much stimulation. Suddenly, his touch was gone and you were left still trembling with the remnants of his fingers lingering.

"It's alright," he cooed, wrapping one of his arms around you to hold you tighter against him, "I've got you, little one."

"Please, Tae," you begged, burying your face into his arm, thighs trembling still spread.

"What is it?" he asked, voice soft as silk.

"Your...Your fingers," you canted your hips up ever so slightly and he hummed.

"Want my fingers inside?" he asked, although he already knew before you nodded.

He hummed, two fingers finding your spasming entrance, coating them in your juices. You held your breath as he finally sunk them inside you, stretching you deliciously even though you were plenty wet enough. His fingers were big, filling you up nice and deep. Gasping against Taehyung's arm, you mindlessly ground your hips up as he slowly pulled them out. You didn't get to mourn their loss for long because he was quickly pushing them back in ― slick sounds accompanying the movement.

"You're so fucking tight," he muttered, "So small...Shit, how long has it been since you've been fucked, pretty girl?"

"Ah-Never..." you gasped, hand circling around his wrist as you squirmed.

His fingers paused, halfway inside and you whined, "You've never been with somebody?"

"N-No, Tae," you whined, using your hand on his wrist to push his fingers back inside, "J-Just you...only you!"

He cursed under his breath, wrapping his arm tighter around you before he began to finger fuck you wholeheartedly. The sounds pouring from your lips only spurred him on, your cunt tight like a vice around just two of his fingers.

"This little cunt won't ever be able to take my cock, sweetheart," he growled, crooking his fingers up to nail that little spot that made you sob, "I'm gonna be too big for you."

"W-Want it a-anyway, Tae," you cried, nails digging into his wrist. Tears welled up in your eyes, trickling down your cheeks as your body was sent into overload.

"Yeah? Want me to fuck you open until you can't take anymore?" he groaned, "Watch your virgin cunt get stuffed full of a cock you simply can't handle...have you make those pretty noises while you cream all over me..."

His words seemed more self-indulgent than aimed at you but you whined and nodded anyway. His palm ground against your clit as his fingers filled you up so nice and you found yourself teetering on the edge.

"I-I'm gonna cum," you panted, thighs twitching erratically in response to your pleasure."Go ahead, cum for me," he commanded, groaning alongside you as you tightened up around his fingers.

"Tae! 'S so good..." you slurred, eyes closed as you buried your face in his arm to ride out the pleasure he was giving you.

"Coming so prettily, little one," he whispered into your ear, fingers beginning to slow as your orgasm died down, "You're such a good girl."

"Ah...Tae," you whimpered as he pulled his fingers from your still-clenching pussy, sensitivity hitting you like a brick wall. Your thighs clenched shut, trembling uncontrollably in the aftermath of the most pleasure you'd ever received.

Taehyung slid his cum-soaked fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling back at the taste of you on his tongue. His arm still held you tight as you continued to whimper against him.

"Taste so so good," he whispered, mostly to himself.

Once his digits were clean, he glanced down at you. It was clear you were still a bit overwhelmed and he cooed, shifting you in his lap until you were facing him. He pulled you into a hug and couldn't hold back a chuckle.

"Humans are so fragile," he whispered, "So overwhelmed...even that was too much for you, huh?"

You didn't respond, simply tucking your face away in his neck. You let your weight drop fully on his lap but froze immediately. You hadn't realized while you were being touched, how hard Taehyung's cock was against you but with a clear mind you could.

He was fucking big.

He chuckled darkly, lips finding your neck as he slowly made you grind against his covered length, "I told you, babygirl, I'm too big for your little pussy."

When you whined and tightened your grip on him, wanting to avoid the painful overstimulation, he simply chuckled. He let you cling to him and lay with him until your eyes fluttered shut ― sleep quickly and eagerly overcoming you.

Just as you sunk into darkness, you felt him press the softest of kisses against your forehead.

"My cute little human," he whispered, voice fading out as you finally fell asleep.

When you woke up, you were tucked cozily in your bed beneath your wool comforter. The sun was up and you groaned, kicking the blankets off as you grew warmer with every passing second.

You had on your sweater from yesterday and a pair of panties you hadn't been wearing. Looking beside you, you found the bed empty and sighed.

Despite yourself, you found yourself feeling disappointed he hadn't stayed the night. He had shown you such a sweet, caring side before you fell asleep. It had made your heart flutter, how he treated you so delicately yet used such a sharp tongue to fluster you.

"He's such a strange dude," you muttered, staring at the ceiling as you spread starfish on your bed.

There was a dull ache between your legs, reminding you of the night before. Feeling your cheeks flush, you sat up straight and hurriedly crawled out of bed intending to take a cold shower.

Drying your hair with a towel, you hunted around your closet for a cute outfit for the date. Briefly, you wondered if he was still planning to take you out. Excitement thrummed through your veins, a giddy smile lighting up your face and making your cheeks ache.

After choosing your outfit, you took a seat in front of the vanity you had set up. You had found a mirror at the monthly market a few ones back and decided it was the best purchase ever. You hadn't known mirrors were scarce on Izo Huen for whatever reason until you desperately needed one.

Deciding to leave your hair down, too lazy to try and make anything of it, you mindlessly spun around in your chair.

A strange feeling bubbled up in your chest that made your heart race. Leaning your head back against the back of the chair, you ran your hands over your face with a groan.

"I actually miss him," you scoffed, leaning forward to rest your head on your vanity counter, "What is wrong with me?"

The day seemed to drag on longer than any other as you waited for Taehyung to arrive. The heat hadn't even bothered you, your mind too muddled with thoughts of your date. You wondered if he would hold your hand and where he planned to take you.

As the sun finally sunk beneath the horizon, you were more antsy and began to pace your living room. Every once in a while, you'd glance out your window in hopes a passing man would be Taehyung. Unfortunately, you were mistaken every time.

Before long, you began to realize that he simply wasn't going to show up. You changed into your pajamas, rejection burning in your veins before sitting on your bed. The streetlights and the moon cast a decent glow around you.

Your feelings were hurt. You’d been stood up by an alien.

Your heart ached and you felt your eyes sting with unshed tears. You flopped over, covering your face with a pillow before screaming into it.

"What a jerk!" you shouted in the material.

By the time you went to sleep, your simmering anger gave way to pitiful dejection. Your eyes were wet with tears as you closed them.

He was polluting your mind, everywhere you went you found yourself hoping that he'd turn up around the next corner. You’d hoped he would come knocking on your door with a sheepish smile, apologizing.

Though as the days passed and you had seen neither hide nor hair of him, the prospect of an apology made you angry. You didn't want his stupid apology anymore.

A week lapsed and it was time, once again, for your weekly log.

Sitting in front of the camera, you sighed, "The...friend I had made seems to have disappeared. It's weird, I was perfectly content by myself but once he showed up and vanished ― it's made me lonely," you gnawed on your bottom lip before sighing, disappointment becoming a common feeling in your life by then, “Maybe I need to make some friends but...I can't explain it; the Sehebon are such a strange race that it feels like it's going to be really difficult to make friends. There's really nothing eventful that happened worth logging besides my own problems so...I'll sign off."

A couple clicks on your computer had the log sent. You'd be getting paid again soon, perhaps you'd be able to go out and find something to do for yourself. Maybe you'd hit the jackpot and find someone who would want to be your friend.

It felt childish, the need for friendship you had. But with Taehyung's absence, your loneliness was at an all time high.

It was beginning to get dark and you decided to say 'fuck it' and get dressed. You'd find something to do ― you hadn't really checked out nearly all the districts of Fia and you knew there were some popular places to hang out.

It was a long walk to the area they dubbed the Social District. The second you stepped onto the rowdy street, you were blown away by the flashing lights and heavy bass emanating from the various buildings.

They had their own clubs.

You suddenly felt out of place and awkward, weaving through the giant people blocking the streets as they talked with friends. It seemed like no one saw you, as if you were just invisible to them. You moved to the sidewalk, being able to squeeze by the people and avoid the large crowd that filled the street.

You slipped into a pub ― judging by the tables and bar. You couldn't read the sign but you still walked in anyway. It wasn't very crowded, a few tables still open. The vibe inside was much cooler and calmer and you felt yourself begin to relax.

Walking up the bar, you took a seat, grabbing a menu without thinking about it.

"God dammit," you muttered, staring at the alphabet you still couldn't read.

"Can I help you?" the tender asked, moving to stand in front of you.

"Uh...I can't read this," you admitted, feeling your cheeks burn.

"That's alright, what do you like?" she pulled the menu from your hands and looked over it herself.

"Do you have any good alcohol?" you slumped against the counter, chin resting in your hand.

She regarded you with furrowed brows, closing the menu, "You do know alcohol is poisonous, right?"

"Wait what?" your head snapped up and the woman laughed.

"Alcohol is poisonous to us. We don't drink it," she placed the menu back where you got it and smiled, "We have some Soda."

"You do?" you perked up at that, not tasting soda since you'd left Earth. You watched eagerly as she filled a glass with brown liquid, placing it in front of you.

"It's not...Earth's soda but it's basically the same," she smiled, "It's got seltzer and sugary syrup in it."

You thanked her before she was whisked away to take care of another customer, leaving you by yourself. You sipped out of the straw, sighing at the taste. It was slightly off compared to the soda you were used to but bubbling seltzer had you smiling.

"_____?" you jumped at the sound of your name, choking on your drink and erupting into a fit of coughing. A hand carefully patted your back until you calmed down, "Are you alright? I didn't mean to scare you."

"I-It's fine," you choked out, clearing your throat and swallowing a few times to rid the feeling. Your eyes flicked up to meet Taehyung's and you felt a frown fall over your face before you realized it, "Taehyung."

His brows furrowed at your using his full name but he didn't say anything, "I uh...didn't know you came around here."

"It's my first time," you muttered, turning back to sip on your drink. When you didn't offer another opening for a conversation he let out a sigh and slid up next to you between the vacant seat beside you. You didn't have any choice but to interact, seeing at he wasn't going to back off.

"I'm sorry I missed our...date," the word still sounded foreign on his tongue, "I had urgent business to attend to in Holis."

"You don't owe me anything Taehyung," you muttered, failing to mask the hurt in your voice.

He sighed again, "I had to go visit a friend of mine, he was stranded and couldn't get home on his own. I promise that's all it was, _____."

You sighed, feeling your hurt and anger soften. Turning to look at him, you opened your mouth to reply but were interrupted.

“Whoa, is this the little human?” a loud voice from behind you made you jump. Twisting around, you saw a large man with biceps so big his t-shirt was stretched taut, “Oh you are a cutie!”

“U-Um...hello,” you greeted timidly.

"Uh yeah," Taehyung smiled, placing his hand on your shoulder, "This is _____. And _____ this is Wonho."

"N-Nice to meet you," you held out your hand, gasping when he leaned down and pressed a kiss against your knuckles.

"It's my pleasure," you could hear Taehyung let out a long sigh, "Bartender, I'll take a Blue Ice please. I gotta take a leak," he muttered the last part to himself, fingers lingering on your shoulder before he disappeared.

"You drinking a soda?" Wonho asked, peering into your glass, "Mind if I have a sip?"

"I guess not," you shrugged, watching him wrap his hand around the glass and bring it to his lips.

He was good looking, you couldn't deny. He had cute ears that stuck out just slightly and pretty teeth as he grinned at you. You found yourself comparing him to Taehyung ― deducing Taehyung definitely set your heart racing the second you looked at him.

"You know," Wonho placed your glass back down in front of you, "I was surprised to hear Taehyung was fooling around with a little human. I never thought he'd be the type."

"What do you mean?" you asked, brows furrowing as you mindlessly stirred your drink with your straw.

"Well I just can't believe he's actually giving in to it," Wonho said, pulling out a menu to look over it.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you muttered, quite blunt.

He seemed surprised, chuckling and waving his hand, "Just the whole human kink that's going on. You know, since humans have started coming here it's become like a game to see who can actually manage to bang one. Can't believe Taehyung managed to snag one."

Your eyes drifted to your glass, the ice melting in your soda ― watering it down. A human kink?

"So...I'm just a conquest?" you whispered, though you were sure Wonho didn't hear as he was ordering a drink.

So many things bubbled up inside you; anger, humiliation, shame. Humiliation at the fact you'd been used, shame over the fact you fell for it and were so close to giving in, and anger of the audacity he had to do such a thing to you. Tears stung your eyes and you bit your lip to hold them back.

"Oh man, that looks delicious," Taehyung groaned, grabbing his tall glass of blue drink and taking a sip.

"I'm leaving," you muttered, sliding off your stool and moving to walk away.

You were stopped by a hand grabbing your elbow. Taehyung stared at you, brows drawn together.

"You just got here," he muttered, obviously confused by your sudden change.

You scoffed, "I'm going home, Taehyung."

You snatched your arm out of his grip and stormed out the doors and onto the busy streets. You could vaguely hear your name being shouted but it was quickly covered by the noisiness of the people. Crossing your arms over your chest, you weaved through the bodies. Tears were burning your eyes but you held them back.

"Hey a human!" you heard someone shout but you didn't stop, "Why don't you come party?"

'The whole human kink.' Wonho's words echoed in your mind, making it harder to fight your tears. 'It's become a game to see who can bang one."

By the time you reached your front door, your jaw was aching with keeping your tears in. Slamming the door behind you, you immediately burst into tears ― bringing your hands up to cover your eyes with your sleeves. Sniffling, you dropped onto your couch and let your sobs out freely.

Hugging one of your throw pillows, you attempted to calm yourself down. Just as you were about to drift off to sleep, eyes fluttering against your will, there was a series of sharp knocks against your door. You didn't move, silently waiting to see if they'd go away.

Unfortunately, the knocks became harsher and more frantic. Deciding that they weren't going to go away, you stood up and dragged your feet to the door.

You already had a feeling who it was and you weren't wrong ― Taehyung standing on the other side. His fist was raised like he was going to knock again and his hair was a complete wreck. His shirt clung to him with sweat and his breathing was a little heavy.

"What do you want Taehyung?" you muttered, crossing your arms around yourself.

"You've been crying," he whispered, moving to step forward but stopped when you moved back, "I knew you were upset. What's the matter, sweetheart?"

"Don't!" you snapped, turning on your heel and storming into your house.

"What?" Taehyung whispered, closing the door gently behind him.

"Don't call me that," you said, keeping your back to him so he wouldn't see your tears.

It felt so nice to have him call you pet names so gently. But you remembered it was just a ruse to lure you in ― and it was so hard not to fall.

"Why not? I thought you liked being called that?" he sounded so confused and you could imagine he looked akin to a kicked puppy.

"Because it's not fair!" you shouted, finally turning around, "You can't just play those games with me because I'm a human, Taehyung!"

"I really...What are you talking about?" his voice was so soft, so gentle. He took a couple steps towards you, hands outstretched, "I'm not playing any games."

"Oh yeah?" you scoffed, wiping away a few stray tears from your cheeks, "Wonho told me about your disgusting kink! You don't care about me, you just wanted to be able to say you fucked a human!"

"Wh―" he stumbled over his words, irises desperately scanning over you, "That's not...true."

You scoffed, shaking your head., "You're so unfair, Taehyung." he cocked his head to the side curiously, "You made me like you and I trusted you. But you just...you really aren't any different from men on Earth, huh?"

"What do you mean? Of course I'm different!" he argued, his own eyes growing glassy, "I never lied to you, _____. I promise!"

"You just wanted to use me as a conquest, something to brag about," you breathing stuttered as you sobbed, "And I almost fell for it!"

"Would you listen to me?!" he snapped, suddenly moving and pinning you against the wall.

He was caging you in, scent overwhelming you and making more tears fall from your eyes. You refused to meet his gaze, even though you could feel his eyes burning into you. You sniffled, staring down at your cardigan sleeves that were functioning as sweater paws.

"I never once intended to use you like that," Taehyung growled, voice giving away his frustration, "Everything I have said and done for you is real and not because you're a human. I don't want you as a...a...conquest," the word sounded foreign on his tongue, "And I certainly am not like your pathetic human men on Earth. I am better in every single way."

"Taehyung..."

"Stop calling me that!" he snapped, making you jump, "I-I want you to call me Tae!"

"I don't think..." you shook your head.

"Why won't you believe me?" he sighed, voice going soft, "Is it really so easy to lose trust in me when I haven't even done anything? You heard my friend say some stupid nonsense a-and you're suddenly convinced I'm evil!"

When he put it like that, you felt silly. Your own insecurities caught up with you and you shifted awkwardly in your place against the wall. You sheepishly looked up to find him staring at you, eyes dark beneath his long bangs. They were damp from sweat and you swallowed thickly at how good he looked.

"I'm sorry Tae..." you mumbled, nibbling on your lip beneath his glare, "I just...I really like you and I don't want you to―

"Listen to me," he tilted your head up, making you look at him directly. His eyes were much softer now and your eyes felt hot once more, "I have no intention of hurting you. You can trust me, _____. I promise."

It felt like all self-control slipped through your fingers as you suddenly surged forward to press your lips against his. Standing on you tippy-toes, you wrapped your arms around his neck. He eagerly kissed you back, arms wrapping around you ― teeth nipping at your bottom lip to make you whine.

One of his hands traveled lower, cupping your ass and pulling you closer to him. You could feel his length hardened in his jeans ― and it was just as big as you remembered. It made you whimper, feeling him so hard against you. You squeaked when the floor was suddenly pulled out from beneath you and you found yourself pressed against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist, his weight supporting you.

You whined when his lips found your neck, trailing his lips over the sensitive skin beneath your ear. He smirked at the feeling of you shuddering against him.

"Are you wet for me, baby?" he asked against your skin. You whimpered and nodded, feeling your pussy clench and gush into your panties, "Do you want me to touch you? Tell me."

"Yes please, Tae," you begged, blushing when he chuckled at your desperation.

The wall was pulled out from behind you and you scrambled to hold onto him around his shoulders, "I got you," he reassured, turning to walk through the open doorway of your bedroom.

You were deposited onto your mattress, making you bounce slightly on it. Taehyung was covering your body once more, however, as he met your lips for another kiss. Resting his weight on one forearm beside your head, he used the other to push your shirt up.

Getting the hint, you pulled your cardigan off and tossed it off the side of the bed before tugging your shirt off as well. Taehyung groaned, his lips kissing the swell of your breast above your bra. His fingers trailed over your bra ― cupping you and sighing softly.

You were surprised by your own boldness as you reached behind you and unclipped your bra. Before you could tug it off, however, Taehyung pinned your arms above your head and growled.

"Why are you so eager?" he asked, making your blush further.

"I-I just want you to touch me..." you confessed, lashes fluttering when he leaned down to brush his lips against your lips once more.

"There's no rush, little one," he cooed, "I'm not going anywhere until I've made you cum for me."

You clenched your thighs with a whimper at the pressure in your core. He pulled off your bra, finally, tossing it away and sitting back to admire your body. You were laid out beneath him, breasts heaving in your arousal.

His head dipped down and you held your breath as he enveloped a perked nipple into his mouth. Your hands flew up to clutch at his hair, back arching. His teeth grazed the bud, and groaned at the way you whined.

"Fuck, you're so responsive to everything I do," he gasped, pulling his lips away from your nipple. His fingers found it and brushed his thumb nail over and you choked out a sob, "I love it so much..."

"T-Tae please!" you whined, arching your hips up.

"Alright, baby," he cooed, flicking the button of your jeans open and tugging them down. Your panties went with them but neither of you cared, "Look at that. So wet."

"Please touch me, Tae," you begged, spreading your legs wider around him.

"You ever been eaten out, sweetheart?" he asked, watching the way your breath stuttered at his question. When you didn't answer, he gave your cunt a swift smack. You cried out, clutching at the blankets desperately, "I asked you a question."

"N-No I've never― " you were cut off by his fingers sliding over your clit softly.

"Do you want to?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Yes, yes please, Tae!" you gasped, eyes wide when he shifted down the bed until his head was positioned over your core.

"So pretty, baby," he sighed, spreading your folds open to expose the pretty wet hole that clenched desperately around nothing.

Your mouth fell open, a stuttered breath escaping you when his tongue slid over your entrance up to your clit. He hummed, licking his lips to chase the taste. He looked like he was in heaven, swirling his tongue over your bud and chuckling when your whole body trembled.

"Love how you react to me," he whispered, mostly to himself. He tongued at your hole to taste your juices once more before dragging up to your clit once again, "I don't think I'll ever get enough of you."

"Tae!" you cried, tugging his hair harshly though he didn't seem to mind.

His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking the bud into his mouth. You keened, eyes rolling back into your head at the stimulation. You nearly screamed when you were suddenly filled with two long fingers.

"Fuck!" you cried, back arching. You abandoned your hold on his hand to wrap your hands beneath your knees ― keeping yourself open for him.

"Good girl," he praised, making you smile down at him.

He pressed a kiss against your thigh before diving down to take your clit into his mouth again. His fingers stretched you open, catching your g-spot every chance he got. He reached so deep inside you with just his fingers and you suddenly remembered how big his dick was. Just the thought of it had your walls clenching around his fingers. He groaned in response, the vibrations against your clit making your thighs twitch.

"A-Another finger, Tae, please," you begged, voice not above a whisper.

"Can you handle that, sweetheart? Your little cunt’s already stretched around two," he teased, his index finger beginning to nudge against your entrance.

"N-Need it," you gasped, "Need to take it for you cock."

His fingers froze and you felt him exhale sharply against your core ― as if the air had been punched out of him. Glancing down, you saw his jaw was clenched and his brows were furrowed.

"Don't say things like that, little girl," he growled, finally pushing the third finger into you, "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"Tae I― " your words died on your tongue when he enveloped your clit once again.

You felt stuffed with his fingers, the digits making your entrance stretch deliciously. You lost your grip on your knees and let them fall open once again. Taehyung's tongue danced over the sensitive nerves, eyes closed as he relished in having your cunt wrapped around his fingers. You were gushing, coating the digits in your juices and he couldn't wait to have them in his mouth.

"W-Wanna cum, Tae," you gasped, reaching above you to grip desperately at the pillow.

He reached up, pulling on one of your hands until you released the material. You felt your walls clench tight when he urged you to put your hands on his head.

He wanted you to pull at his hair.

Not one to reject such an offer, you tangled both your hands in the soft locks as he began to fuck you with his fingers eagerly. The wet noises were obscene, mixed with your moans made an incredible melody for Taehyung.

The fact he was the only one who had ever had you like that made his cock throb. His hips moved mindlessly against the bed beneath him to get some stimulation. His cock hurt in the confines of his jeans but he didn't dare try to pull it out.

Suddenly, your walls clenched tight and the grip on his hair began to sting the harder you pulled. Sobbing out his name, your entire body began to quake beneath him. The pleasure was overwhelming and you snapped your thighs closed around his head. He didn't pull away, however, keeping his lips attached to the throbbing bud through your orgasm ― milking every spectacular second until you were whimpering from overstimulation.

He gasped as he pulled away, sitting back on his heels before pulling his fingers out of you. He spread your folds, groaning at the way you gaped slightly from being stretched open. Sliding his soaked fingers into his mouth, his whole body trembled and he reached down to palm himself through his jeans.

The feeling of a smaller hand covering his had his eyes snapping open. He pulled his fingers out and stared down at you as you shyly palmed him through the material. He groaned, head falling back.

"C-Can I..." you trailed off, not quite sure what you were asking.

"I...I don't know..." he bit his lip, apprehensive.

"Please Tae?" you pouted, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Shit, alright," he whispered, switching your positions. He scooted up until his back rested against your headboard, shoving your pillows aside to make room for himself, "Come here. Sit on my lap, pretty girl."

Your hands were trembling as you did what you were asked, swinging your leg over his lap until you were straddling him. As you pressed your full weight on him, he tossed his head back in a groan. The pressure of you sitting on him felt spectacular.

Gripping his shoulders, you suddenly felt shy with his eyes on you. He gazed at your body on top of him like you were a goddess, hands drifting up your sides and cupping your breasts. Thumbing your nipples, he smiled crookedly when you shivered at the feeling. He cupped your cheeks, finally, and pulled you down for a soft kiss.

"Go ahead and grind on me, baby," he cooed, gripping your hips to urge you to move.

The first grind against him had him releasing the most beautiful moan that you felt yourself gush in response. His head leaned back against the headboard, watching through lidded eyes the way your cunt ground against his cock through his jeans. He wishes he could take it out and feel your wetness drip all over him ― to feel you cream against him as you came. He swallowed the urge down and continued to guide you.

"D-Does it feel good?" you asked, biting your lip as you watched his jaw tense as he held back his moans.

"So good, babygirl," he groaned, feeling his heart stutter when you proudly grinned down at him, "You're so fucking cute."

"D-Don't call me cute when I'm doing this," you hissed, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Doing what?" his head rolled against his shoulder and he smirked at you, "Go on and say it."

"No..." You whispered, clutching his shirt. Leaning forward, you wrapped your arms around his neck and held him close.

"Why so shy, little one?" he chuckled, kissing your temple and trailing his hand up your back before cupping the back of your head, "Grinding your wet little cunt against me like this...wanting to make me cum. And you want to act shy?"

You whimpered, gasping into his ear so prettily that he shuddered. He felt his orgasm coming and he groaned through clenched teeth.

"Close..." he whispered, fingers digging into the soft skin of your waist while he other clenched in your hand, "You're gonna make me cum, baby."

"Please cum, Tae," you begged, gasping when he wrenched your face out from where you were hiding in his neck.

"You want my cum?" he panted, mouth falling open as you fastened your pace. You nodded as best you could with his hand in your hair, "How about you cum first for me?"

Your eyes fluttered, realizing with his words how close you were to another orgasm. You leaned forward, pressing your lips against him. He hummed in response, smiling in the kiss when you started trembling in his lap.

You pulled away from the kiss and tossed you head back as you cried out his name, gushing against his jeans. Taehyung cursed, his own hips stuttering beneath you.

By the time you came down, you realized how wet his jeans were beneath you. You whined, falling off the side of his lap. He still sat up, chest heaving as he caught his breath. With his eyes closed, he didn't see you cupping his softening length through the wet material. He hissed, brushing your hand off of him.

"I-Is that all your..."

"I should get home," he interrupted. You frowned, watching him stand up and shift uncomfortably.

"Can't you stay?" you asked, finding yourself not wanting him to leave.

"Sorry, baby," he leaned down and pressed a kiss against your forehead, "Maybe another time." With a final, departing kiss, he turned and stepped out of the door. He paused, however, and looked back at you, "Be ready tomorrow, 8PM. I'll take you for dinner."

You were left alone on the bed with a little smile on your lips ― the promise of seeing him tomorrow making you giddy.

You felt apprehensive when 8PM rolled around and there was no sign of him ― the time blinking on the screen of your computer. You sat on your desk chair, watching the moments tick by.

It was nearing 8:30 when there were a series of knocks on your door. You jumped to your feet and raced to the door, pulling it open to see Taehyung with a guilty smile and a handful of flowers.

"Sorry I'm late I uh..." he cleared his throat and held the flowers over to you, "I had to go a bit out of my way to get these."

"Oh Tae..." you smiled, taking them from his hands and bringing them up to your nose to smell, "They're beautiful."

"They're imported from Liana," he smiled, shrugging sheepishly.

"How'd you think of this?" You asked, motioning for him to enter your home as you went to your kitchen to put the flowers in water.

"Well..." he cleared his throat, "I just...I've been reading about human dates and just human things like that, you know?"

"You've been studying for our date?" you giggled, putting the flowers on your counter before turning to him. He looked shy, keeping his eyes averted from you, "I really appreciate it, Tae."

"Really?" his eyes lit up and he grinned his adorable smile.

"I think it was very thoughtful," you led him back to the door and out into the cool night.

"There's this place I really like around my place," he suddenly explained, taking your hand in his as he helped you down from the stoop, "I like to go there with some friends. I think you'll like it!"

"I'm sure I'll like anything, Tae," you admitted, smiling when he squeezed your hand in response.

The two of you made simple talk as you made your way to the restaurant. You hadn't had the opportunity to go to one in the time you'd lived on Izo Huen.

It was a simple, small building with an Open sign in English. You grinned, bouncing inside tugging Taehyung by his hand excitedly.

"Pick a seat, little one," Taehyung cooed, nudging your back.

It was set up exactly like a restaurant on Earth and you slid yourself into a booth, grinning. Taehyung took the spot across from you, lounging back as he looked at the menu. You followed his lead and opened the menu yourself. Eyes wide, you realized you were able to read everything.

"Hey...It's in English!" you muttered, eyes scanning over the words. They were translated underneath into what Taehyung could understand ― the characters and symbols lost on you.

"Yeah it's the only place around here that does it," he shrugged, "I figured you might enjoy that."

"You're..." you grinned, shaking you head, "You're so thoughtful, Tae. I really appreciate it."

He shrugged, though you could see that his ears were tinged red.

You both ordered drinks and food, the atmosphere dissolving into one of calm company. You both chatted idly about anything ― Taehyung asking a lot of questions about Earth and him trying to teach you the different characters for his alphabet. He gave up when you just couldn't get a hang of it ― teasingly calling you illiterate and cooing when you pouted.

"Hey Tae," you muttered, picking at the salad you had ordered. He hummed, mouth full of some type of steak ― though the meat was of a consistency that made your stomach turn, "How did you learn to speak so...casually?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, sipping his soda.

"You know..." you blushed, realizing the question wasn't really something to ask over the dinner table, "When you talk you use a lot of slang terms. Like...in bed," You whispered the last word and picked at your salad again.

"Oh," Taehyung chuckled, "See, I have a friend who has been to Earth a few times. He has a lot of...interesting material that he let me read. And he kind of taught me some popular slang on Earth."

"You didn't have to go to so much effort, Taehyung," you whispered, although you were grinning. Your heart fluttered in your chest nonetheless.

"I wanted to," he suddenly set a hard gaze on you, "I want you to like me and I want you to feel comfortable around me. I want to be good for you."

"Tae..." you reached across the table and cupped his hand in yours, "I already like you very much. You make me feel comfortable and you make me feel very happy."

He grinned, looking away from you shyly but squeezed your hand tightly.

The walk home was peaceful, you found yourself wrapping your arms around one of Taehyung's ― wanting to be close to him. He didn't seem to mind in the slightest, squeezing your hand tightly and staring down at you with sparkling eyes. It felt like he looked at you like you hung up the moon ― it made you feel fluttery inside.

"Do you want to come inside, Tae?" you asked, opening your front door.

He hesitated for just a moment before stepping inside. He kicked his boots off along with you, watching as you tucked both of them away in the corner. You went to your bedroom to change into something comfortable ― settling on some pajama pants and an oversized sweater. When you walked back out, Taehyung was sitting at your desk looking at your computer.

"What's this?" he gestured to your setup with your camera.

"It's where I record the logs needed to send back to Earth," you explained, "I update my superiors every week on things that are happening. When I learn something new about the culture or something interesting happens."

"Interesting," he muttered, sitting there for a moment before standing up and navigated over to your couch.

You dropped into the seat beside him and molded yourself against his side. He wrapped his arm around you and pressed a kiss against the top of your head. The silence was comfortable and you rested your head on his chest ― listening to his heartbeat.

"Hey Tae?" he hummed, looking down at you when you looked up at him, "Can I have a kiss?"

His gaze softened and he quickly leaned down to press his lips against yours. He went to pull away but you followed him, pulling him into a deep kiss making him moan. Swinging your leg over his lap, you straddled him boldly. He seemed surprised by it but didn't say anything, just moving his lips against yours.

"Tae," you whispered against his lips, "I want to touch you, please?"

"_____― " he pulled away from the kiss, pushing you back slightly by your shoulders.

"You keep saying I can't handle it, but I can!" you argued, pouting at being pushed back.

"I don't want to hurt you, _____," his brows came together in a deep furrow, "It wasn't just talk when I said you couldn't handle it. It's too much, you're too...small."

"It turns you on though doesn't it?" you teased, noticing how he was growing hard beneath you, "Can't we at least try, Tae?"

"I-I..." his head fell back when you ground against him, "Fuck, we can try."

You held in a squeal of joy when he scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the bedroom. He dropped you on the bed and stripped his shirt off.

It was the first time seeing him naked and you sat up to admire his body. He was fit, as you expected. His stomach was flat with a small trail of hair leading beneath his jeans. On his shoulders were patches embedded in his skin that reflected off the dim light of your bedroom.

"What..." you sat up on your knees, brushing your fingers over them. It felt like normal skin, and you hummed in wonder.

"They're...light-sensitive patches that we just...never evolved out of," he explained, "They were useful for survival when we dominated the deserts. Now they're just...here."

"Interesting," you muttered, trailing your hand down his chest and stomach to the button on his jeans.

Before you could flick it open, however, he grabbed your wrist and pinned you back to the bed. His gaze was dark, making you shiver underneath it. He smelled wonderful and you reached up with your free hand to brush his bangs out of his eyes.

"You've got another thing coming if you think you'll get anywhere near my cock before I think you're good and ready, little one," he growled, making your thighs clench at the sound.

You whined when he rushed to discard your clothes, not wasting a single second in getting you bare for him. He palmed himself through his jeans as he looked down at you, licking his lips.

"So pretty," he whispered, smoothing his hand down your body. Smirking, he pinched one of your nipples to hear the way you whined, "Spread your legs for me."

You hurriedly did as you were told, shame and inhibitions thrown out the window. You felt nervous under his gaze but with every compliment and soft touch ― you began to feel better. Mouth falling open, you gasped when his fingertips brushed against your folds.

"You're so wet," he mumbled, more to himself, "Are you always so wet, baby?"

"Y-You're the only one ― "

"I know that but when you touch yourself, pretty baby," he glanced up when you tensed, "I know you do. Tell me do you get this wet?"

"O-Only when I think of you," you admitted before you could think twice about it. You felt your cheeks burn at your own admission but Taehyung cursed and grunted as he squeezed his cock.

"You're such a good girl," he praised, fingertips trailing up your body again. Goosebumps ignited across your skin and you arched your back to get more of the feeling of his touch.

His fingers eagerly dipped back between your thighs to find your entrance. You whimpered when he immediately slipped a single digit inside. It felt nice but unfulfilling.

He pulled his finger out and circled it over your clit ― using your own juices to lubricate the movement. You hummed, eyes fluttering as he circled the bud several times. When your thighs began to tense, he pushed his finger back inside.

He continued the teasing until you were whining beneath him. Suddenly he pressed his thumb against the bud, circling and pressing against it relentlessly.

"I'm gonna cum!" you warned, your eyes squeezing shut.

"Go ahead, pretty baby," he urged, not pausing in his torture of your clit.

You came quickly, arching and trembling on the bed. Your cunt was empty, gushing and clenching around nothing. His touches on your clit slowed until they stopped all together.

You figured he'd give you a moment to recover but, he was suddenly sliding two fingers inside you. You were so wet from your orgasm, your cum slicking down his fingers and onto the bed. You sobbed, grinding your hips into his touch. He didn't try touching your clit or your spot, showing that much mercy. Instead, he leaned down to envelop a perked nipple in his mouth while he scissored his fingers, stretching you a bit more.

You hummed, cupping the back of his head to keep him in place. He didn't seem to mind, beginning to fuck his two fingers into you faster.

"A-Another, please," you requested, whimpered when he immediately did so.

There was a slight, tiny burn that immediately gave way to pleasure. His palm pressed against your clit ― still so sensitive that it made you tremble. As he fucked you with his fingers, he switched to give your other breast attention.

Your hips jerked with his every movement, following the pace he'd set. Every time he brushed your g-spot and you whined, he would laugh.

He took so much enjoyment in your pleasure it was almost baffling. You were always sure that men would be selfish and unsatisfying in bed but Taehyung was nothing but attentive.

Perhaps he was right; he was better than any human man.

"Cum again for me," he purred, swiping his tongue along your chest before meeting your neck.

The feeling of his fingers and teeth on your neck had you inching closer to the edge of the abyss.

"T-Tae, please," you whined, grinding your hips down, "T-Touch me, please."

He hummed, moving his thumb to press against your clit. The simple touch set you off and you were coming once again beneath him. Your body was on fire, sweat sticking to you and making you pant. It crested beautifully and faded out into trembles and whines.

He didn't remove his fingers, instead beginning to nudge a fourth into you ― his pinky finger. His eyes met yours, keeping his eyes on your face as he stretched you further than he had before. The width of his hand was bordering on painful but you found it highly enjoyable. His thumb continued to circle your clit even as you sobbed in overstimulation. Your spasming walls eagerly accepted the new stretch and you found yourself relaxing into it.

He was quickly going to send you to another orgasm but before you could fall off the edge again, he removed his thumb. You whined, grinding your hips to chase the feeling. His eyes drifted down to where his fingers were buried into you, smoothing two of his fingers from his free hand over your folds.

"Stretched so wide," he muttered, scooping up some of your cum on the digits and popping them in his mouth. Your walls squeezed his fingers in response to his display.

He suddenly pulled his fingers out and you cried out at being empty so fast. Your walls weren't able to close properly and you closed your thighs at the feeling.

Instead of stopping you, Taehyung stepped off the bed. Your mouth went dry when he unbuttoned his jeans and began to shuffle them down his thighs.

You realized he wasn't wearing underwear when his cock popped free ― flushed incredibly red at the head and leaking precum down the shaft. He visibly shuddered when his cock was free from its confines and he quickly wrapped his hand around himself ― giving himself a few good squeezes.

He was just as big as you thought. His fingers didn't meet when wrapped around the girth. He was wider than his four fingers and so long that you found yourself whimpering at the thought of him drilling into you that deep.

"You still think you can take me, little one?" he asked, crawling on the bed to kneel in front of you still clenched thighs.

"Y-Yeah...want it," you let your legs fall open, showing him your flushed and swollen cunt.

Her cursed, tapping the fat head of his cock against your cunt. You whimpered when you saw just how big it was compared to your own pussy. He was surely going to rip you in half but damn if you wouldn't enjoy every second.

His precum mixed with your cum as he slid his shaft between your folds, getting the underside of him nice and wet. You whimpered, feeling him grinding against your clit bringing you close to the orgasm you'd been denied.

Before you could fall into it, he positioned his tip at your entrance. Prodding ever so slightly, he sighed at the feeling of your heat against him. You spread your legs wider for him as he began to press inside.

You cried out, clutching the sheets beneath you as he stretched you wide open. The head of him was so thick, bordering on painful. You reached out to stop him from going any further, gritting your teeth at the feeling.

"You're okay," he whispered, shifting back so he pulled out of you.

You breathed heavily, relaxing once more as he circled your clit with his thumb. As your eyes fluttered, he began to press back inside. You whined as he pushed past what he had been, thumb not letting up on your clit. You walls spasmed around him, making him groan as you began to tremble.

The head of him popped inside and you cried out as you were sent over the edge. Taehyung's body fell over yours, catching himself on his hands beside your head. You sobbed, tears filling your eyes at the pleasure of being stretched as you were.

Taehyung's mouth fell open as he felt you cum around the head of his cock. When you calmed down to just little sniffles and whimpers, he leaned down to press his lips against your neck.

"You okay, baby?" he whispered. You nodded, reaching up to cup his cheeks and pull him into a soft kiss.

He took that as his cue to sink further into you. The flare on the head of his cock was the thickest part of him and it felt much easier for the rest of him to slide in. He nudged your cervix and when you flinched at the pain, he pulled back slightly.

"Look at that," he chuckled looking between your bodies. Following his gaze, your eyes widened, "You can't even fit all of me inside you, little one."

He was right, you'd only managed to fit half his cock inside you. Your walls clenched around him at that.

"Feels so good, Tae," you whispered, feeling his cock twitch against your walls.

He grinned, moving his hips gently, sinking in as far as he comfortably could before pulling back out. Although he wasn't able to fit in you completely, he still found himself groaning against you

"Such a tight little cunt," he growled, nipping at your jaw, "Took me so well, like a good girl."

You began to grind your hips up as he sunk into you and he growled. Sitting back on his heels, he soothed his hand over your body to soothe you.

You cursed loudly when he snapped his hips much harder into you ― testing how much you could take. When you gushed and spasmed around him, he took that as a sign to keep going. You moaned so beautifully for him, body reacting like a dream to his every touch and movement.

Cunt stretched wide and stuffed full of cock, you couldn't even think of anything else. You felt drunk, dizzy and lightheaded. Taehyung cooed when you slurred out his name, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip to collect some drool there.

"You're so cute," he grinned, breaking out into a moan when you clenched him tight, "All you can think about is my cock, huh?"

"'S so good..." you whispered, the words coming out almost breathlessly.

"I know, baby," he replied, licking his lips as he moved to his cock pounding you open wider than you should have been able to take, "You're gushing and squeezing me so nice. Are you gonna cum? Can you cum for me?"

You swallowed and nodded, whining when he hit your cervix. It hurt but it blended in with the pleasure. Mindlessly, you reached down to find your clit ― intent on sending yourself over the edge.

"No, no baby," he cooed, brushing your fingers away, "You'll cum without touching your pretty clit, yeah?"

"C-Can't," you sobbed, tears leaking out of the corner of your eyes.

"I think you can," he muttered, smoothing his hand over your lower stomach. "Fuck, look at that, babygirl."

You lazily followed his gaze to where his hand laid. Your cunt clenched at the sight of your stomach bulging every time he sunk in ― his cock literally molding you around it. You gasped, your high bubbling in your stomach.

"Wanna cum!" you cried, attempting to reach down and circle your clit again only to be stopped once more.

"I said no, little one," he snapped, pinning your hands above your head as he loomed above you, "You can do it. Cum for me."

Your body went still, focusing on the feeling of his cock filling you and stretching you. His cock was so big that he didn't even have to try to reach any good spots within you.

Astoundingly, you shrieked as your orgasm finally washed over you. Taehyung cursed in your ear, fucking you ruthlessly through the high. Distantly, you felt wetness splatter between your thighs and coat both of you. You chanted his name as you squirmed and writhed at the overwhelming pleasure.

"Shit, I'm― " Taehyung's warning was cut off by a groan.

His weight fell on you fully and he hid his face in your neck as he came. You hugged him against you, still trembling as he pumped his hot cum into you. There was so much, his cock keeping his cum plugged inside you. You gasped and twitched as you felt your stomach bloat over so slightly. You walls clenched around him, the idea of him filling you so much sending you into another quiet orgasm.

It was less spectacular than the others, but still left you gasping of air. Taehyung groaned in your ear as he felt you cum around his sensitive cock once again ― forcing a couple more spurts out of him to add.

It seemed like forever until his body finally relaxed. He continued to hold you, pressing kisses against any place he possibly could.

"That was...nice..." you muttered, making him laugh as he rolled off of you.

Your mouth fell open as he pulled his cock out ― it ached, there was no denying it. There was a gush of his cum, so much of it that it formed of pool beneath you. Your cheeks felt hot as Taehyung watched his cum pour out of your abused hole.

"Who knew my little human girl could take so much?" he teased, enjoyed the way you squirmed in embarrassment, "Want to take a shower?"

"Only if you will with me," you offered with a tired voice, watching his face morph into an expression of confusion.

"Is that some type of human thing?" he asked, sitting up and stretching his muscles.

"Apparently so," you whispered.

"Hey..." he paused from getting off of the bed. "You...you'll be here a while, right?"

"What do you mean?" you asked, clenching your thighs shut as you felt your core begin to burn and ache as you came back to yourself.

"Like...you won't have to go back to Earth any time, right?" his voice sounded small, almost fragile.

"I'll stay as long as I want to," you reassured, leaning over to kiss him but freezing before you could.

"What is it?" he asked, frowning.

"I'm just really fucking sore," you mumbled, flushing when he burst out laughing.

"Ah, my cute little human," he cooed, kissing your nose.

#bts smut #taehyung smut #bts scenarios #taehyung scenarios #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts preferences #taehyung imagines #taehyung reactions #taehyung preferences #v smut #v imagines #v scenarios #v reactions #v preferences #taehyung fanfic #v fanfic #bts fanfic #taehyung x reader #v x reader

[lovelyghostlyharmony]

Yandere! Taehyung x reader

Taehyung liked you. Taehyung really liked you. That was why he had chosen you, wasn’t it? Because you were easy on the eyes and you had a head on your shoulders. Your heart was pure — at least, pure enough for him — and the sex between the two of you was great. The synergy was there. Personal chemistry was present. The only thing was that you were the first woman he had ever really liked this much.

This was his first real, committed relationship. He didn’t feel constrained or held down by your demand for exclusivity. On the contrary, it scared him how okay he was with it. To give up his freedom like that for an average girl like you? He would have laughed in anyone else’s face and told them to take a hike. Not you, though. And that fucking scared him.

Three months. It had taken you three months to burrow your way into his heart. You were some sort of witch. Perhaps you were a seductress. Yeah, that had to be it. There couldn’t be any other reason for his sudden, obsessive thoughts and overprotective behavior.

“Who the fuck is that?”

“Tae, that’s my brother.”

“Didn’t like how he looked at you.”

“…did you miss the part where I said he’s my brother?!”

Who gave a fuck if a man was related to you? That wouldn’t stop him from making a move if he wanted to. There were some sick fucks in this world. Didn’t you understand that? Didn’t you understand that he was just trying to keep you safe and his?

But no, you couldn’t simply listen to him. You were independent. He had once liked that about you. Now, however, it pissed him off. It got in the way of you being the submissive woman he needed you to be. It needed to be squished.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a darkness lurking within your boyfriend. Sure, he could be mean, and sure, he pulled some tricks that bordered on abusive, but those things were child’s play compared to what truly lied below the surface. He could be far, far worse than he was. All it took was your love and attention to sow the seeds of darkness. You had made him comfortable enough to expose his genuine traits. If he was being honest with himself, this was your fault. If you hadn’t told him you would love him regardless of how much he changed during his work, then maybe he would have been able to help himself.

You stupid fucking girl. You should have never tempted a man like him with vows as impure as that. Had you thought him to be so noble that he would overlook your words and do the socially acceptable thing? No — you had to know that saying such a thing would serve to tempt a monster like him.

The game started with little quips here and there; nothing major. During a small argument, he had called you an ugly bitch beneath his breath. Of course, he had apologized after you had caught it and started crying. Although, that’s when he had first realized how insecure you were. Your appearance, your intelligence, the way you spoke, your personality traits — they were all free game. You didn’t like yourself as much as you let on. He would expose this gradually, and by the time you finally realized what he was doing, you wouldn’t be able to leave. You would think you were worthless. You would think you were nothing. You would be stuck with him, the sole one who could ever love a pathetic sack of crap like you.

Taehyung knew how much you would suffer through this process, but how else was he supposed to secure you at his side? You were beautiful and capable and bright and and and— God, you were his everything. In such a short amount of time, you were his everything. That was why he couldn’t risk you leaving.

He made it a goal to make you feel like utter garbage at every twist and turn. One day, he would no longer need to do this, but until that day came, he would just have to suck it up and be the villain.

The next technique he tested out was backhanded remarks beyond an argument setting. He would never forget how fast your head had snapped around to stare at him, eyes hurt and facial expression confused. You had been perplexed as to what had warranted him to say a thing like that. He had maintained his composure, however, and merely raised a brow. He had treated the circumstance like your reaction had been the odd thing about it all — not what he had said.

“I said your fuckin’ hair was nice!” He had snapped, rolling his eyes at your audacity.

You had whispered meekly, “you said it would be nice… if I bothered to get it trimmed every once in a while.”

To which he had shrugged callously. “Want me to make you an appointment somewhere? I know a guy that can work with anythin’.”

Much to his shock, you had asked him for the number of his stylist a few days following this event. You had even admitted that he had been right to say that your hair didn’t look the best. And that’s when Taehyung knew that you responded best to emotional conditioning in this horrendous art form.

So, when you tried to exit the house a few weeks later, he amped it up a bit. You were getting weaker by the day. Sometimes, you wouldn’t even want to look at yourself in the mirror. He’d had the pleasure of witnessing the grimaces you made when you were brushing your teeth in the morning; you didn’t even think you were sub-par anymore.

Why? Because in his eyes, you could always be better.

Much better.

You came into the kitchen with a slight bounce in your step. Taehyung didn’t even have to look up from his paperwork to know that you had done yourself up nice tonight because you thought you were going to an office party. Keyword: thought. The only thing that was going anywhere tonight was the rest of your self-esteem. Once that was gone, he could focus on your singularity. He couldn’t have you thinking you could exist without him, just as much as he couldn’t have you thinking you were anything without him.

“Okay, hun, I think I’m gonna head out,” you said softly, your voice low and your eyes cast to the ground.

You were acting exactly as he had taught you. Those who were lesser than him didn’t get the privilege of viewing him, in all his glory. He hadn’t assumed that this behavior would extend beyond the bedroom, but fuck, was he glad it had.

“What’s with all that dumbass makeup?” He grunted with a frown. “Look like a fuckin’ clown.”

Your face shrunk. Sheepishly, you turned to look at yourself in the nearby wall mirror. You didn’t think it was too much at the time you had applied it. It was a bit of eyeliner and mascara. You had covered a few of your blemishes and bruises with foundation, too, but he couldn’t have known that. Taehyung didn’t take an interest in your makeup. It was because of this that you valued his opinion so much. If he could see a flaw in what you had applied, it was probably more accurate than what you saw.

You were biased; he had helped you realize this.

“Do I?” You questioned absently.

He finally afforded you with a cold glare when you turned around to face him. The disappointed expression on your face revealed it all; you were doubting yourself yet again. You were waiting for him to give you the validation you needed but didn’t quite deserve. Self-esteem wasn’t free, though; you had to earn that shit. Hadn’t he taught you anything?

“C'mere,” he demanded, eyes twinkling with excitement he didn’t even bother trying to mask. “Sit on my lap, stupid woman.”

You trudged over to where he was situated at the kitchen table, pouting gently. You plopped down atop his lap. You didn’t like how he flinched upon impact.

“Fuck, you gainin’ weight or some shit?” He hissed, flexing his thighs beneath your ass. “Almost made my damn legs buckle.”

It was false, of course. You had gained no more weight than when you had first met him. Nonetheless, you didn’t need to know that. You only needed to feel insecure. You only needed to listen to what he said.

“Oh no,” you whispered, voice akin to the soft squeaking of a field mouse. “I haven’t weighed myself in a while.”

“No fuckin’ shit,” your boyfriend murmured.

Tears were welling up in your depressed orbs, and Taehyung thought you were gorgeous. He embraced you, holding you firmly to his chest. Time to swoop in with that validation before the sobbing began. He hated it when you cried like a little bitch. He couldn’t deny the rush of power it gave him, though.

“Hey, you know that crap doesn’t matter to me,” he muttered, brushing away your watery streams with rough fingers. “Love your ass no matter what.” But he had to top it off with an insult, of course. “Would be nice if your tits were bigger though. Remember my ex? She had some fucking knockers.”

Couldn’t have you getting a big head when he had you where he wanted you.

Masterlist

Yandere masterlist

@mwitsmejk

#yandere bts x reader #yandere taehyung #yandere taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #tw abuse #tw yandere themes

[nessinborderland]

Be Mine (07)

Pairing: Niragi x Reader / Chishiya x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Omegaverse

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You were able to stay unbounded throughout your life. You didn’t want an Alpha; you didn’t need one. You would rather die than to give yourself to some random male. But the man that saved your life thinks differently.

Warnings: Alpha/Omega, Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Finger fucking, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Drama, Developing Relationship, Past Abuse, Scars, Death, Blood and Gore, Animal Death, Trauma, Bath Sex, Blood and Injury, Oral Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Feelings

Notes: Here it is! I finally update this fic lol. Better late than never :) Thank you all for being so patient with me and appreciating my other writing endeavors. Means a lot <3

AO3 Link        Masterlist

You spend the rest of the day crying in your room. You still can’t believe he acted like that, especially after the sex you just had. It had felt so free, to just give yourself to him and feel him in you. It felt right, it felt… like he was the one for you. Like you could trust him.

Like you could choose him.

And then he bit you, and it was like a tsunami of messed up emotions came flowing in. It scared you; there’s so much pain and doubt in him. But there is also so much more, things you don’t want to think about. Things you don’t want to see.

You caught a glimpse of his soul, and it is dark as the moonless night. It scared you for a moment. But then he pushed you away and all you could feel in him was fear; he was terrified. You could relate to that; it was all so overwhelming. But then shame and rejection washed over you as he said all those awful words. You know he didn’t really mean any of it, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. You were so mad.

You still are. After he followed you out of that meeting, you thought he was going to apologize, but he just made it worse. All those threats, all the manhandling; you don’t want any of that. He has no right to act as he did.

And then there is Chishiya. The man hadn’t hesitated to follow you as soon as you left the meeting. He had approached you with the excuse to know about your wellbeing, but you knew what he really wanted to know. And when Niragi appeared right behind you, it’s like Chishiya’s eyes lit up. “I’ll be coming for you in three days.” the man had whispered before walking away. You hadn’t understood what he meant until Niragi said something similar.

Your heat is approaching.

You have a heat roughly every four months. It’s way too soon. But with the Alphas around, you guess it is bound to come earlier. You don’t know what to do, to be honest. If you stay at the Beach, they will come for you. If you run away, they will hunt you down. 

You don’t have a choice; not really. As soon as your heat starts, you won’t be yourself anymore; you will open your legs for the first Alpha that puts his hands on you. You will just let them take you, without a care of the future. Not only that, but they will fight for you too, and you know they won’t give up.

It terrifies you, the thought that they might die because of you; that he might die.

A firm knock on the door startles you. You stand up, composing yourself; it’s probably someone with your dinner. You open the door to see Niragi, food tray in hand.

“Didn’t know you worked in the kitchen now,” you say, drying the tears from your face. He says nothing, eyes locked on you. You can feel his emotions, guarded against you, but still there. Hesitation, annoyance, and something else you can’t quite figure.

“I don’t.” he says with a scowl, “But who do you think has been sending these to your room?” He hands you the tray and stands there, hands in his pockets. He averts his eyes, “Can I come in?”

“It was you?” you ask, eyes wide in surprise. He shrugs.

“What, you thought that everyone here just gets room service?” he says with a huff, “This is not a luxury hotel, Y/N.” there’s a pause, “So, are you gonna let me in or what?” 

You step aside, letting him come in. Your mind fogs for a moment when you catch his scent, but you quickly control yourself; there’s something important your need to discuss.

“Are you here to apologize?” you ask after a moment of silence. He’s still not looking you in the eyes. You sigh and put down your tray, grabbing an apple and handing it to him. He looks at you with a raised brow. “Eat with me,” you say. He takes the apple from you, sitting down on the bed when you do the same.

“You know I would never hurt you, right?” he says, after another moment of silence. You give a huffing laugh, nodding.

“Yeah, maybe not physically,” you answer, taking a spoonful of soup. “But death threats and name-calling are still hurtful, you know?” He nods. You can feel the turmoil in him; how he’s divided between staying or running away. Between apologizing and let you accept him or just take you, “As I said before, I understand your feelings, but I will not be a doormat.”

“Yeah, I know...“

“So,” you press on, “Are you here to apologize or to wait until I miraculously forgive you?” You feel a spark of anger in him, see the scowl on his face. It doesn’t last long, though.

“I– I‘m–,” he hesitates, “I won’t do it again.” 

You raise a brow, “And?...” 

His eyes lock on you and he sighs, “I will be better.” you keep staring at him until he rolls his eyes with an exasperated grunt, “Fine... I’m sorry, okay? Happy now?”

“Hmm, much better,” you say with a small smile. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

His scowl deepens, but he says nothing. You notice that the tip of his ears are red; that’s probably the only time Niragi has ever looked anything near to adorable. You’re happy he apologized, even though it was clearly an effort. A part of you is happy to see him struggle; you don’t need a man child that doesn’t own up to his own mistakes.

You keep eating in silence, wondering when he will talk. You were expecting him to leave after apologizing, but he just stays still. You can almost see the gears turning as he tries to decide on what to do next.

“You’ll still bond with me, right?” he blurts out, eyes focused on the apple in his hand. You can’t help but laugh out loud at that; of course, that’s what is bothering him. You shrug with a tight-lipped smile.

“Do I actually have a choice?” you ask him, “Will you respect my wishes if I tell you that I don’t want you? Or will you still take me as soon as I get in heat?” you both know the answer to those questions.

“You know I can’t control this,” he says in a low tone, “Neither do you. We just–”

“But am I wrong to wish that we could?” your eyes lock. You can feel a knot forming in your throat, “I can promise you the world, and still let Chishiya fuck me if he gets to me first. I–I can’t– none of this matters.” you let out a sob, “Free will is nothing but an illusion.” you whisper. “I– I’m scared.”

You just let yourself cry again; you’re so done with everything going on in your life. It doesn’t matter what you try to do; nothing will change. So you might as well just accept it. That doesn’t make it easier, though.

Maybe one of you will end up dying before you can see yourself stuck in a shitty relationship. That’s what you can hope for, for both of your goods.

He pulls you into a hug before you can voice your thoughts. You bury your face against his chest, wishing that that proximity, all those feelings, were real; that you actually loved each other. It only makes you cry harder. He keeps hugging you, whispering comforting things in your ear.

What surprises you the most is that this is not him. The glimpse of the person you saw when he bit you; that was him. This one is not. The actual Niragi would never comfort you like this. The actual Niragi is too broken to show anyone love or kindness. That’s why it hurts even more; he isn’t himself. You wouldn’t want him near you if he was himself. But that still doesn’t erase who he is; the things he has done. And it scares you.

But you also don’t have a choice.

“Yes.” is all you say. You don’t need to say more. You know he understood what you meant. The happiness you feel in him tells you that clearly.

You accept him when he kisses you, letting yourself be controlled by your wolf; is much easier than let your doubts consume you. Your wolf knows precisely what she needs; you don’t. So you let him kiss you and touch you. You let him undress you and kiss your body. You let him dry your tears and turn your sobs into moans of pleasure. You take all of him in you, enjoying the connection that you know isn’t real but feels so right. The only thing that matters when you’re both connected like that.

When he says ‘mine’ against your lips as you orgasm together, you have only half a mind to not say ‘I love you’ back. That is something that you will not say. But when he embraces you after, so warm and strong and safe, you can’t help but say that you like him. That you want him. He whispers something you can’t understand, already half asleep. But you can feel his emotions, cristal clear in the back of your mind.

He’s the right choice.

You wake up hours later, naked in your bed. Alone. It’s still dark outside, but it mustn’t take long for the sun to rise. You let out a sigh; did you just let him console you and make love to you just so he could leave, again? Is this how it’s going to be from now on? You control the impulse to cry; that’s pretty much all you do. You’re tired of it. You have made your decision; now it’s time to face the consequences. 

You walk through the empty hallways of the hotel. Everyone at the resort is either dead asleep or still partying. You have no idea where Niragi might be, but you know he can’t be far; you can still feel him in the back of your mind. Faint, but there. You don’t feel any exaggerated emotion, though. At least that brings you some peace of mind. You walk around the resort for some time until you find him.

He sits at the edge of the rooftop, his gun beside him, a beer in hand. He notices you as soon as you show up, turning to look at you. He says nothing as you approach him, sitting next to him. One of his arms goes over your shoulder, pulling you closer. All signs that he’s not rejecting you. Your anxiety dissipates; you can’t believe how relieved you are. You lay your head on his shoulder, enjoying the silence and the early morning.

“Want some?” he offers you his drink. You shake your head, “Noted: doesn’t like beer.” he says with a huffed laugh. You don’t find it funny; you really don’t know anything about each other. You know even less about him than he knows about you. You decide to risk it; it can’t hurt to ask.

“Tell me about you,” you say, a slight questioning tone in your voice. He tenses up immediately, arm leaving your shoulder. Your hand snaps to grab his hand, “I–I don’t mean your scars!” you say before it’s too late. “Just tell me something, anything.” he looks at you with a frown, before looking straight ahead with a sigh.

“What do you want to know?” he asks in a cautious tone. You open your mouth to answer before hesitating; there’s so much you want to know about him, but you know that the wrong questions will scare him away. That’s the last thing you want. You interlock your fingers, thumb brushing over the back of his hand in what you hope is a calming gesture. He doesn’t pull away.

“For starters…” you hesitate, “What’s your first name?” 

“Suguru,” he answers after a pause, “But you can keep calling me Niragi,” you whisper his name, feeling it on your tongue. It feels odd, but also right; like you’re the only one allowed to call him that. “What else?” he snaps your attention back to him. You hesitate for a moment.

“Well...what is your favorite color?” you decide to go for the safest route possible. “Your favorite food? Favorite animal? What did you do back in the real world? What–”

“Wow okay, easy there with the questions.” he’s not frowning anymore, so you take that as a win. He takes a deep breath. “My favorite color is black and I–”

“I would have never guessed,” you laugh, as you look him up and down. He raises a brow at you before proceeding.

“I like katsudon,” he hesitates, “My...my mom used to cook it for me a lot when I was a kid.” you smile; it’s the first time you heard him share anything about his family. Your eyes lock, and you notice a faint blush on his cheeks. “What were the other questions?” he asks.

“Favorite animal? Your job back home?”

“Oh right,” he proceeds. “I like ravens.” you nod with a smile, remembering the raven tattoo on his chest. “And I’m a game engineer. Mostly software, make sure the game works fine and the design and controls don’t give any problems, that sort of stuff.” your eyes go wide. You would never think of him as having a job like that. He notices your surprised expression, “What, you thought I was some gangster or something?”. You laugh.

“Not really, but never took you for a game nerd.” you smirk, “Is that how you learned how to shoot, by playing Call of Duty?” He huffs out a laugh with a light slap to your thigh. He’s no longer tense; you can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment at being able to get something out of him. 

You keep talking, watching the sunrise as you answer his questions. He asks you similar stuff to what you asked him, clearly uncomfortable to go beyond that. You’re thankful for that; you wouldn’t want for it to ruin the mood.

He’s surprisingly nice to talk too, once he’s comfortable. You don’t know if it’s because you’re outside, alive, just the two of you, but you feel so relaxed. It’s almost like nothing is wrong. You wish you could just freeze this moment in time, make it last. But good things tend to come to an end.

A voice from the walkie-talkie near him interrupts your conversation.

“Say that again?” he asks into the intercom.

“We found this guy wandering outside the perimeter.” says a male voice, “What do we do with him?”. Niragi sighs, already standing up.

“Take him to the usual room, I’ll be there in a moment.” he turns to you, “Go back to bed, Y/N.”

His whole demeanor is different. No more of that warm vibe or nice smile. He’s back to being Niragi, the militant. You don’t like it one bit. You make that clear, but he still insists on you going back to your room.

“Why can’t I go with you?” you ask. You rarely see him in those circumstances. You know you’ll probably regret it, but you need to see that part of him too. You discuss it for a moment until he sighs, finally complying.

“Fine,” he says, “But stay back, and leave the room as soon as I order you to.”

You walk into a room on the lower levels of the hotel. You stay back as you promised, standing behind the rest of the militants, closer to the door. The rest of the group makes way for Niragi as he walks to the center of the room, where a man is tied to a chair. You can’t see his face, covered by a black bag, but you can see that he’s shaking. With a sign from Niragi, the bag is pulled off, showing the man’s face underneath. There’s a gasp, and then:

Confusion. Realization. Fear. Terror. Panic. Anger. So much anger.

All those emotions hit you like a ton of bricks. You instantly know that they’re not yours; that scares you more than if they actually were. You have never felt those emotions so strongly before. You’re about to take a step towards Niragi when his voice echoes in the room.

“Y/N,” his tone is so unfamiliar that you wonder for a moment if he was the one talking. His voice is ice-cold but with so much anger underneath that he’s visibly shaking. It’s terrifying, “Get out.”

“Ni–” you take a step towards him.

“All of you, out!” he shouts, startling everyone in the room, “Now!”

You take a good look at him. You can only see his back, but you clearly notice the glint of claws. His whole body language screams threatening wolf. You know that if you could see his face, his eyes would be yellow and his fangs would be exposed.

This is bad. Really bad.

Next chapter

#alice in borderland #ima wa no kuni no alice #alice in borderland fanfic #Niragi Suguru #niragi x reader #niragi #niragi imagines #also on ao3

[binniesthighs]

hello stranger | reader x changbin |

a/n: hehe hello cuties, before i get to the chapter, I just wanted to say thank you so much for all of the support and lovely messages you that you sent to me for the last chapter. as I said, it was one that was super personal to me and for it to be so relatable and emotional for you all makes my heart feel so, so full. these themes are going to continue, so please read the warnings cuties. as always, thank you so very much for reading my stories <3 

Part 6 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, female reader x han jisung 

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut, angst 

Tags: (of this part) college au, rapper!changbin, rapper!jisung, establishedfwb!jisung, artist!reader, skz side characters, bestfriend!chan, bestfriend!felix, roommate!minho, explicit language, HARD fluff to HARD angst, some sensual-azz fuckin’ (muhaha), unprotected sex (stay safe cuties!), lil bit of breath play, nipple play (f), cumshot, mentions of food, changbin has a cute butt (that’s the tweet) 

CWs: aftereffects of traumatic experiences, mentions of past toxic relationship, self sabotaging tendencies 

Word count: 6.6k (remember when i said i wasn’t gonna write long chapters? wellllll...ooP)  

Chapters 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7

When you were back in high school, before you knew a thing about what love was, your Art teacher had given you an assignment: what do you think that love looks like? At first, all you had really known love to be was the kind that you shared with your friends and your parents, and maybe with your family dog. You had read about love in your favorite books and seen it in your favorite movies, but you had never really considered what it looked like. Obviously, the assignment was all up for you to decide, but there being a million and one things that you considered love to be, to put it to paper with your own hand was something different entirely. 

At first, when you thought of love, you thought of the typical: hearts, hugs, the colors red and pink. But, this was too simple. 

“What are you drawing?” You had sneakily whispered to your classmate. 

She shrugged, and continued scratching away at her sketchbook. You had peeked to see what she was putting together, and for her, she had started to draw what looked like a house on the edge of a lake. The house was in the middle of nowhere and it was surrounded by trees of all different kinds and there was a single bench that sat at the edge of the water. 

You figured, love can be a place, so you started drawing that. 

Your pencil swiped over the paper in strokes big and small, and the lead rubbed off on the side of your pinky as you outlined the corners of your apartment building. 

You thought, I love the people who live here, therefore, this must be love. 

It made sense. People and places could make up love. 

When you turned in your drawing of your apartment building you were surprised to see the variety of other paintings and drawings that the other students had turned in. One student had turned in a whole piece that had been drawn with oil pastel. It was a jumbling of colors: mostly red, as you had expected, but it also held streaks of gold, black and teal. You remember your teacher really liking that one. 

Today, if you would’ve gotten that assignment, it would’ve been completely different. 

It was a sunny afternoon when you sat at your easel with your pencil in hand. Drawing out the mere outline and rough draft, tears welled in your eyes. A long time ago you had promised yourself that if your art didn’t mean anything, what even was it?

The sun filled your room in the golden hour of the day best it could from your frosted glass window. The warmth that the rays held made your whole body swell with a warmth, and it gave your shaking arms the power to keep going. 

You brushed lightly over the rough canvas with your pencil, tracing out the lines as if they were the very memories that you had kept painted in your mind. 

You drew a snowy night, not much unlike the ones that you had been seeing recently. You drew an empty alley, not lit by much light. You drew the way that the oil slicked in potholes mixed with the snow. You planned out the way that the industry of the city lit his back as he stared out into that dark expanse where you knew that darker figures were hiding. You drew him. You drew him on that exact same night that you had fist seen him: a dark outline, who would become full of color. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“What’s that?” 

Changbin pointed to your easel with a sheet draped over it. 

“A surprise.” You answered. “I know that I’m not good with surprises, but, are you?” 

“I don’t mind them.” He chuckled. “For me?” 

“Mmhm. Its not ready yet so you’ll have to wait.” 

“I’m fine with waiting.” He sighed out. 

You nuzzled closer into his bare chest, right up to his heartbeat. Both of you were admittedly a bit dewy in your sweaty afterglow, but this was of no concern to you. These past few days, this had been your preferred way to drift off to sleep. Even on the occasional times when the both of you would be too busy to make the time, when you finally could see him, it was everything to you. In his large and muscled arms, there was no place else where you had felt safer. You too wrapped your whole being around him with a feeling so close it must’ve been unreal. If you could hear the muffled little rhythm of his heartbeat, you were sure that he could hear yours. 

“Soon, all this snow is gonna melt, and then I can take you to loads of other places. I’m just getting started.” Changbin’s airy breath tickled your scalp. 

“Really? Taking me to all the usual places?” You mocked. 

“No.” He said seriously. “I want to take you to places I haven’t taken anyone before. My secret places. I...you know...wouldn’t mind if you could draw them for me either.” 

You giggled, “Ever heard of taking a picture?” 

“Hey! It’s not the same.” 

“Fineee. Okay, okay. I’ll draw them for you.” Your fingertips traced down the muscles of his back. “Maybe I should start charging if you’re gonna keep being like this.” 

“You don’t do pro-bono?” He ran along with your joke. 

“If you ask nicely, maybe I’ll consider it.” 

He tsked, “Could you please draw for me?” 

You masked another adoring chuckle. “I do like it when you say please.” 

Everything about the one moment felt so sickly sweet, it was like you must’ve dreamt it up. In between the swaddling of sheets, you tried your best to enjoy the one moment: it was just enough to keep the doubtful whispers away. After all that he had done, said, all the pain that he had kissed away, or compliments he had hushed into your ear, the creeping feeling that you hardly deserved it all would rear it’s head time and again, even when you didn’t expect it to.

The two of you were quiet for a moment as you fell into the serenity of just existing together. After a while, you would narrow your focus best on the way that his breaths would rise and fall and the way this his body heat would melt into yours under the mess of sheets that neither of you bothered to fix. He would use his thumb to rub reassuring little strokes into the back of your neck where he had you. 

Your hand would fall down his arm, all the way down this wrist where his scar lived. Ever since you had noticed it, you couldn’t stop looking at it. Every time that you did, you were given a tangible reminder of everything that he had been, and was, to you. You rose the uneven skin to your lips to gift a little kiss to it. 

Changbin tried his best to hide his giddy smirk at the action. 

“Do you have to leave tonight?” You settled his arm around you once more. 

“No. Not tonight. But, for the next few days I don’t think I’ll be able to. They put me on the matinee shifts at the theater. I fucking hate those. No one comes in at all so it’s like I’m just sitting there.” 

“Wanna sneak me in some time this week? I should have a break.” 

“I would but...I’d prefer to keep that job. As much as I hate it.” 

“We could do something this Thursday? You aren’t busy on Thursdays as much right?” 

“Ahhhh I think so.” Changbin rolled the two of you over, allowing himself to lean over top of you. With a sly smirk he lowered his voice to say, “You know, my ribs really aren’t hurting as much any more.” 

“Oooh? Good to know.” You ruffled his curly strands. 

“I’m trying to say that I can go for another round if you would like to?” He bowed his head to kiss lightly into your neck and the fading love bites that he had put there himself. 

Your eyes wandered to your clock telling you that it was nearly 2 in the morning. If you had better judgement, you would’ve said no. But, these days, judgement wasn’t something that you took too seriously. 

He kissed down deeper, and pulled at your skin just in the way that he knew you liked it. Changbin knew the ins and outs of you perfectly, as well as exactly what to do send you quivering under him. All he had to do was press his body into yours so you could feel his weight, and it made you fold just for him. He followed his kisses up your jaw where he then lead them into your bottom lip and over every angle that your mouth would crave him. He often didn’t mean to do it intentionally, but between your parted mouths, his tongue would sneakily find yours, and he would slowly slide it against yours. 

“Do you want to?” He muttered between kisses. 

Under the covers, his hand cascaded down your side in a way that tickled slightly, but also made you shiver. 

He broke from his kiss to hold your eyes seriously. “We don’t have to.” 

“No, I want to.” You reached up to hold his sleepy and puffy face in your hands. 

Changbin said nothing more, but instead returned to weaving kisses back down your neck. Under your waist, you felt him angle up your hips higher and the heat of his tip teased at your entrance still slick with your arousal from before, and now renewed. He bowed his head down to your chest to pump himself with a few muffled grunts. After, he rose his head to hold your eyes with his own. The muscles on his arms flared where he held himself up, and those adorable little stretch marks in the corners of his arms moved with them. 

“God, you’re so beautiful.” 

You melted under his compliment. No matter who many times he had said it, you still weren’t use to it. 

“So are youuuu.” You said with a dreamy tone. One other thing that you had figured out about him was that returning such comments to him made him a flustered mess. It was utterly adorable for someone as stoic as him at times. 

“Psh.” He scoffed, then lowered his voice once again. “Beautiful how I fill you up sweetheart?” Changbin angled your waist up higher, then spread your thighs, finally pushing them into your body to tighten you. He aligned himself over you, then pushed himself in agonizingly slow. “Beautiful how I can fuck you so deep? How I can m-make you...” 

He had given up on talking, but rather thrust himself further into you with his shaking breaths and little “mmm’s” getting caught on his tongue. 

“B-Bin...fuck, f-feels s-so good--”

He pushed your legs up closer to your body, allowing himself greater access to graze your g-spot. Your busy fingers found their way around his back to claw all the way down. He still relished in taking his time with you, and would never rush fucking you--it was as if he had all the time in the world to unravel you. You returned around him, tightening has he fucked in and out with his own pace. After a while of doing the same, his hand crept around your neck to give you a couple choking squeezes that made you whimper out like a kitten. He would never keep it going for long however, but rather indulged himself in the way that your gasps would remind him of how good it all felt. After, Changbin dipped his thumb into your mouth to run the pad over your tongue. 

The tip of his teeth caught the skin of his lip which he bit into hard. 

“You feel so good baby. F-feels so good on my cock. It’s all for you angel.” 

An unrestrained groan escaped from your mouth as he continued and your orgasm pooled steadily. In and attempt to steady yourself you clawed back into your pillow supporting your head. 

He swiftly changed your position, taking both of his hands to turn you on your stomach. Without a pause he lead his swelling head back into your pussy where he kept on going at his favored slow pace. Your face smushed into the pillow with hips raised in the air. The fluffy fabric muffled your helpless moans. 

“Louder for me princess.” He growled. 

With one hand he arched over to tweak at your nipples with force: twisting and pulling, then he wet his hand with his own saliva to let your skin feel the cold and wet sensation. His other hand he used to reach around and rub circles into your clit. He was gentle at first, but worked your bud harder and faster. Your knees and legs shook the faster he rubbed, and you spilled your loudest and most unapologetic moans into the room that had risen in temperature. 

“Fuck...” He swore. Changbin allowed himself to quicken his pace inside of you. The action alone sent you spinning wildly into your orgasm: a tear of white hot heat that shook your whole body and turned your swollen bud into a sensitive mess under his fingers which did stop, even when when he knew that you had just cum all over them. The harder he pressed, the more wonderfully painful it felt, and you let your tears fall hot from your eyes to the sheet. You attempted to call out his name, but no words that left your mouth made sense. 

He turned your body once more, using brutish hands on your hips as he pulled you overtop of the sheets to fuck you into the bed once more with your sweating back stuck to the comforter. Your body shook with your orgasm still, and you needily brought his lips down to yours to kiss him with your thank you’s as he milked himself out in your tightening walls. 

Changbin was animalistic in the way that he finally let his hips snap over you, at last reaching his orgasm mere seconds after he had pulled out and jerked himself over you. Ribbons of his white cum came spilling out over your gasping chest and stomach and dripped lazily from his pink and flaring tip. He took in shallow inhales as he did, and kept rubbing until the very end and he had nothing more to give. Even as his hand dropped, you took his dick in your own hand to just twist lightly and ride out the last of his orgasm. He softened in your hand with eyes closed in his focus and came down. 

The combination of your lust held in the air for a few silent moments, then he collapsed back down next to you into a blushing and exhausted mess. His pink chest shook, and his soft heather eyes found you. 

“We should...probably take a shower right?” 

“Probably.” You grinned. 

Changbin leaned over to plant even more sugary sweet kisses on top of your lips. He always was one to admire his work, so he chuckled lightly seeing the way that he had properly covered you in his cum. 

“I can help you clean that off.” 

The bed shook and he rose to get you something to clean up. You wished that you could’ve moved to see him saunter around your room without a single piece of clothing on. It was no secret that he had one hell of a cute butt. 

Changbin helped you out of the bed, finding that your legs had started to shake and betray you a bit more harshly than you had intended. He ran the water for you both, inviting you in to take the task of cleaning you to himself. He took the suds in his own hands to brush them all over your body and took careful and gentle attention to the more sensitive parts of your body. He giggled a little at the way that even under the warm water, your nipples would still harden when he ghosted his fingers over them with soap. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” You scolded him. 

He took care of the little bruises on your neck and collarbones, giving them kisses under the clear stream of water as if he was healing them. After he was done, you did the same and cleaned out his hair with your shampoo. He always let out happy little groans when you would massage his scalp. He still had a couple scrapes on his face from a few weeks ago, so you kissed all of them too. 

Changbin’s favorite part was how he could mess up your hair with the towel afterword and make you look as ridiculous as possible. Of course, you would do the same. You would brush your teeth together, and dress somewhat all of the way back again. A while ago he decided keeping clothes at your place was a good idea, but you ended up wearing them more than he did. You blamed it on dirty laundry, but you really did just like the way that they would smell all tangled up in your blankets on your nights alone. 

With bare legs, you would tangle yourselves all up in eachother once more, and not even bother to look at what time it was then. 

As it had become his habit, before the two of you drifted to sleep, Changbin would kiss into your forehead “l love you. You know?” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Chocolatey goodness wafted up Felix’s nose, and he let out a happy little squeal. 

“~Thank youuu~” He beamed to the waitress. 

He took a careful sip not to burn his tongue, then turned his head to watch the way that the snow had started to flurry outside of the diner window. Minho flipped the pages of his book and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

“Whatcha reading?” Felix said with a little tap of his feet under the table. 

Rather than answering, Minho sighed out and closed his book. “Nothing now. If you’re gonna ask questions, then I’ll get distracted, so, nothing now.” 

“Oh. Sorry.” Felix frowned. 

Minho rolled his eyes, suddenly becoming exasperated over his new friend’s dramatic reaction. 

“It was something that I’m assigned to read for one of my classes. It’s about economics or something like that. I’m kind of just skimming; reading because I have to....” He took a sip of his coffee. “Y/n should be reading the same book considering that we are in the same class...but I haven’t even seen you with it yet.” 

You prodded at your plate of half eaten waffles. “About that...” 

“If you think that I’m gonna give you the SparkNotes you are sorely mistaken.” 

You writhed in your seat a bit like an upset toddler. “Come onnnnn, Minho, you know that I don’t have time for that, working at the library and such...”  

“--More like stealing my roommate from me. I hardly see him at our apartment anymore.” Minho made his remark with a type of snark, but knowing him, he was still just as sarcastic. 

“Yeah,” Felix piped up. “The three of us haven’t hung out in a while either!” 

“...Sorry, I’ve just been getting...caught up in things.” 

Minho cleared his throat. “I’m not saying that its a bad thing. It’s just something that I’ve noticed.” 

Felix nodded, “Me too! I’m really happy for you!! So is Chan, don’t get me wrong. We haven’t seen you so happy and like, not serious in such a long time. Really, I’m so so glad that you have someone like him for a boyfriend.” 

Your fork scratched your plate. “--Boyfriend?” 

“Yeah!” Felix beamed. “Isn’t that what he is?” 

Minho too held an expectant gaze. 

“I-I don’t think...we hadn’t really talked about what it is that we’re doing...or are.” 

“So you’re saying that he’s not your boyfriend?” Minho cocked his head in his confusion. “Well, you ask him and he’ll think that it’s a different story.” 

“H-he talks about me?” You sat up straighter. 

“Well, he hasn’t explicitly said anything, but the way that he never shuts the fuck up...” Minho suddenly became much more interested in his coffee. 

“What? You don’t want him to be your boyfriend?” Felix looked just as confused. 

In your hands, you crinkled up the napkin that you had resting on your lap. You hadn’t in fact, ever thought of such. Merely, you had thought that you loved him, and that you enjoyed being around him and that he had made you happy. Was it odd that the thought had never crossed your mind? 

“And he hasn’t said anything about it either?” Felix leaned in. To his side, Minho nudged his arm in the most non-obvious way possible. 

“...No?” 

Your heartbeat quickened in pace. 

“Af...after everything that happened back then? Didn’t you say that he like, confessed or something and you did the same? You’ve only been hanging out with eachother for weeks?” Felix pushed his cocoa away from himself to lay his hands flat on the table. 

“I...don’t think that we should press the issue.” Minho patted down the boy sitting next to him. 

It was the feeling that you had been avoiding for weeks: that kind of uncertainty and fear that you had pushed down so far after the night that it all came together, but you didn’t expect it to manifest like this. In your chest a knot tied itself together tightly and in a way that you couldn’t explain. 

“I...just like what's happening right now between us, I didn’t think that he would want--” 

Felix nudged Minho by the hip, motioning for him to let him out of his side of the booth. Minho rolled his eyes, but did so muttering, “I said we shouldn’t press the issue but here you go...” 

Felix slid over to your side of the booth, nearly shoving you up close to the wall with how near he scooched to you. Carefully, he removed the napkin that you had scrunched up into your palm. 

“Relax okay? You’re doing it again. Just calm down.” While his tone was sweet, you couldn’t help but find some condescending edge--real or not. 

“Doing what? I don’t think that I’m doing anything wrong??” 

Felix let you squeeze his hand tight, as patient as ever. 

“Do you not want him to be your boyfriend?” He repeated. “But he treats you so nicely? There’s nothing to worry about.” 

At first you were angry at yourself, angry at yourself for feeling the hot tears well up in your eyes in public, 

I’m so fucking pathetic. 

Secondly, you were furious at yourself for feeling anything less than the happiness that had made up your whole world for the past few weeks. You had worked so hard just to make something that made sense, and he made sense. Why did it have to be much more complicated than that? 

“Y/n?” Felix bowed his head down with his softening gaze. 

“F-Felix, I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“I’m just trying to understand so I can help you out with this. Clearly there’s something that’s upsetting you about, I don’t know, putting a label on it? If that’s the right word--” 

Minho sucked at his teeth, “He’s too nice to say that you’re self sabotaging again. Listen, you don’t have to have the answers right now, we’re just saying you’re getting in your own way at having something that could be really great.” 

Felix shot daggers in Minho’s direction. 

“I wasn’t gonna say this, but Bin’s been going through shit right now with his family that I’m sure he isn’t telling you about. Someone tipped them off about what he’s been doing and they’re furious. He’s been telling them that no one knows that he’s tied to them when he raps but they aren’t listening. Literally when he goes to see you it’s like, what’s helping him forget all that shit. He cares about you a fuck ton, and I’ve heard about it all. He wants you to be his girlfriend. Believe me. Don’t know why he hasn’t brought it up yet, but...” 

Felix took in a shaky breath, then turned his attention back to you. “Besides all that, I think that you should at least talk to him about this all. I had no idea that you felt this way. I’m sorry for making assumptions. At least, if you and him talk about it, you can figure something out right?” 

You took at the papery and crinkled napkin and dabbed it harshly on your eyes to dry your tears before they had a chance to run further down your face. 

“Why the fuck doesn’t he tell me anything?” Your voice wavered. 

Minho folded his hands on the table. “Knowing him, he probably thinks that it would be burdening to you. Selfless dick. He thinks that putting that shit on you somehow makes him seem like a handful or some shit.” 

“B-but I don’t feel that way?” 

“Then tell him!!” Felix’s volume rose. “When you talk to him, tell him that.” 

“What the fuck is this, a drama?” Minho laughed a little. “These communication skills are god-awful.” 

“Oh fuck off Minho,” Felix rubbed your back to soothe you. “This is real life, and we’re here to help out Y/n.” 

“That’s fuck off Minho-hyung to you.” The older boy stuck out his tongue. 

You wiped your nose against your hand, then Minho threw another napkin from the holder in your direction. 

“I promise that things will get better when you talk to him.” Felix nodded. “Talking always helps.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Thursday afternoon came, and the forecast had called for snow, but none had come. Rather, the atmosphere had turned to be dreary and grey the whole day long, and the temperature dropped so low that some local schools had to cancel classes for the day. Your university had decided to do the same. While you had been thankful and decided to spend the day working on your various projects, you couldn’t bring your hand to the canvas. 

All day long you had spent figuring out what it really was that you wanted to say to Changbin, and you still hadn’t figured it out yet. Even you didn’t know what it was entirely that scared you deeply. But, you knew that somewhere you did. 

Why her? 

You could do better. 

Isn’t she...boring? 

You hugged your legs to yourself as you waited on your couch. The memories seeped into your brain like some kind of poison diffusing its way. 

No, no. You’re wrong. You tried your best to banish them. 

You’re all mine. No one else’s. Don’t you ever forget that. Tell me. Who’s baby are you? 

You squeezed your eyes shut, and dug your nails into the fleshy part of your knees where you held them. 

You don’t own me. You don’t have the fucking power. 

Three knocks clicked at your door, and you knew that it was Changbin. Your chest shook with a type of anxiety that felt like prickling thorns. You rose to open the door. 

“Fuck. It’s so freezing out there.” Was the first thing that he said. “I wouldn’t mind not having to go back out there if you are?” He slung his coat over one of chairs to your two person dining table. As soon as he was undressed, you were overcome with the desire to be as close as possible as you could get to him. It had been your safe place. 

Changbin let out a little surprised noise when you launched your body at him, but he just as quickly held you back firmly. 

“Is everything okay?” 

For a moment you let his rosemary and cedarwood cast aside all the ideas and words that ate away at you. 

“Can we talk?” You mumbled. 

“Yeah, of course. Can we sit down? Get a blanket maybe?” You nodded and let him do the work of going back to your room to get back your knit blanket that he knew you liked best. He threw it over his shoulders them beckoned you to join him in his arms. You snuggled right up into his chest where he had tucked himself into the corner of the couch. “Want to talk about it now?” 

With glistening eyes you tried your best to look up at him. His cheeks were still bitten pink from the cold. 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about your parents? Or about what’s going on right now?” 

Changbin sighed and bit at his lower lip in his discontent. “Minho said something didn’t he?” 

“You can tell me, you know?” 

Changbin shook his head. “It’s not your problem to worry about, so I don’t want you do.” 

“But you’re my problem to worry about. Don’t you get that?” 

He sighed once more, then rested his head atop of yours. Where he held you around your arms, he rubbed gently.  

“And if...being with me helps you...I’ll come around anytime alright? You don’t just have to come here.” 

He laughed a little. “My place isn’t as private as yours is.” 

You toyed with the fraying fabric of the blanket. “You know that I can be quiet if I need to be. Or if you just want me to sleep over, I can do that too.” 

“I don’t want you going out of your way--” 

“--I don’t mind.” You nuzzled a little deeper. “So, your parents are giving you a hard time?” 

He tsked. “Yeah. It’s just...stupid is all. They care so much about what I do and don’t do when I left so it wouldn’t bother them. They’re trying hand out some kind of threats to me like they have the right to do so....they don’t.” 

“What are you going to do?” 

Changbin helped you up a bit higher up his body so your head could rest on his shoulder. “Nothing. Keep doing what I’ve always been. No one knows except the people I have closest to me. They’re worrying over nothing.” 

You formed a “oh” with your lips. 

“But, it’s nothing to worry about. I promise.” 

Already, you had forgotten what you really had decided to talk to him about. It had slipped from your mind just as quickly as you had let it arise. The two of you grew quiet, and you let yourself become overcome with the feeling and warmth that his body and the blanket gave to you. You wondered if he would’ve gotten mad if you had fallen asleep just then. It didn’t seem like the worst idea.

“As long as we’re talking about things, do you mind if I ask you something?” Changbin asked after planting a small kiss on your forehead. 

“What’s that?” You said with a sleepy and cracking voice. 

“You...don’t have to have the answer right now, but I just thought it would be worth it to ask, since we’ve been doing you know, this, for a few weeks now. You already know how I feel about you, I think that I’ve made it pretty damn clear, but, I was thinking that we could make things exclusive between us? Like, it just becomes me and you?” 

Drip by drip, the drowsiness that had swept over your eyes dissipated. 

“Would you be up for that? I just, it seems a bit odd to me that we haven’t talked about it yet considering...well, I think that it would be easier if we knew what we were so then we could, I don’t know, plan or something like that? It’s kind of a commitment, I know, but I want you to know that I’m willing--” 

“Bin...” You pulled yourself up from his chest. 

“What? Why are you looking at me like that? Did-did I say something wrong?” 

Who’s baby are you? 

“You want me to...be yours?” 

“Well, not exactly, you know what I’ve said before, but, I would like you to be my girlfriend--” 

A sob clogged your throat. Now that he had finally said it, the realizations came flooding over you like the deathly winter chill. 

“Angel, are you scared again? I told you that you don’t have to with me, I swear that I don’t ever want to hurt you or anything like what happ--” 

“--Like happened what? Back when I was so fucking stupid to get myself locked up in something that I thought would be good for me? Why is it that you want me to be your girlfriend, huh? I-is it because I-I fall over for you? I can’t run away from you? Am-am I just a good fuck for you? What is it?” 

“What the fuck? Where is this coming from? Y/n, you know that I love you, I fucking love you like crazy and I don’t think any of those things!! I’m not trying to restrain you our use you or anything like that, I don’t know why the hell you would think that!” 

“B-because you might not now, but what about later down the line...when I get boring or you figure out that I’m not as exciting like I used to be or--” 

“--What?! No! That’s not gonna happen!” Changbin reached out to pull you back into his arms, but you shook him off. 

Salty tears filled the corners of your mouth. “The last time that I-I did something like this, I--” 

“--Well this isn’t last time, this is this time, okay? It’s different! I swear to God that I’m not that fucking asshole. I get that you’re scared, okay, that’s totally understandable, but I’m asking you to trust me alright? Can you trust me?” 

Part of you wanted to trust him. In fact, a much larger part of yourself wanted to trust him so bad, it hurt. But, a smaller part of you, a much smaller part of you still screamed into the abyss that he was the last person in the world that you could trust; and that voice, was much louder. 

“I want you to be my girlfriend, and I want to give you everything that I have. All my fucking time, my attention, hell, just minutes ago you said that I was your problem, can’t you be mine? Is that not allowed? I’m just...I DON’T get you!!!” Changbin growled out the tail end of his sentence and only after he had said it he realized it was much louder than he intended. “Oh God, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...please. I’m not mad at you.” 

Your body had weakened, so when he had reached out for you, you let yourself fall into his arms. 

“Angel, can’t you see that what I’m trying to do is the complete opposite of what you think I am? Yeah I mean, it would be nice to call you my girlfriend, but not because I’m trying to control you or anything, but because...fuck, you make me happier, made me feel like I’m less lonely in this fucking crazy-ass world. I want to be that for you and you only.” 

Poisonous thoughts. Why were they even more alluring than the antidote that you had right in front of your face? 

Your limp body mustered up the strength of push yourself off his chest. Looking into his eyes you felt numb. With all the care that he held for you, you felt as if you didn’t deserve one single ounce of it. 

Why her?  

You figured that in some parallel earth, you would’ve been able to have said yes. In that parallel earth, nothing bad would’ve ever happened, and you wouldn’t have been crouched in that alley with snow melting into your dress. You would’ve lived a normal life without pain and doubt. Maybe you would’ve met him there too, and you would’ve been able to say yes. 

“You...don’t have to have the answer right now, but can you please consider it...for me? I meant everything that I said, but I...I also can’t wait forever.” You heard his voice grow thick. “I know that if...you can’t do it, or iff you don’t know, then I can’t just make it happen. There’s not a lot else that I can do. But at least I want to try.” 

You could do better. 

“I-I think that I need to be alone...right now--tonight.” Two more hot tears fell down your cheeks with a sting like a papercut. 

“Right now?” 

“Yeah, just--there’s things that I need to think about, I don’t..I don’t know. I’m sorry.” 

“No. I understand.” Changbin sniffled. 

Slowly, your two bodies seperated, and the heat from his body faded. You thought to yourself, it wasn’t yours to keep in the first place. 

You lead him quietly to the door where you watched him lace up his shoes and throw on his coat. His eyes had become puffy, as much as you figured you had looked as well. His grey eyes looked tired, just like the dreary day that you had spent all day hiding from. Still, he smiled. 

“Y/n. I know that you think that you’re hard to love. But you’re not. If you take away anything from this, I hope you know that your past doesn’t define you, and that you can have happiness after it all. I want to be that for you. If you’ll let me. Only if you’ll let me.” 

Your clogged nose made a horrible stuffed sound and you nodded. You had listened to his words, but had you heard? 

He sighed with finality, then bent down to kiss at the salty taste on your lips. 

“Call me, okay?” 

You closed the door after him, then collapsed down the door. Your pent up sobs flew out of your chest with loud and ugly sounding sobs. Each one hurt more than the last to get out. You crumbled against the wood door, and didn’t even mind the cool draft from under the crack. Your world became a blur in front of your watery eyes and your hands shook as they took your phone from your pocket. 

Words of self loathing filled your ears as you searched up the name, but it was the only one that you could think of in your blind emptiness. 

If only things could go back to the way that they were. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

The walk to his apartment was cold, freezing even. You had worn the shoes that you had been scolded for, and the coat that provided you with barely any warmth. You knew the way to his apartment well--it was almost muscle memory by now. Streetlights passed you overhead, and finally the snow that was promised started to drift from the heavens and before you. 

Your hands cracked with the cold when you pushed the button to his intercom, and he buzzed you in without saying a word. You showed yourself up the staircase with empty sounding footsteps echoing against the walls. Your eyes had welled with tears once you reached his floor, but you blinked them away harshly. It was a futile attempt considering that he would see how red your eyes had become. 

His door was cracked with old paint, and the number had been scratched off with age. You knocked one time, no more than that. Somewhere a tiny voice had hoped that he wouldn’t hear the knock at all, and figure that you hadn’t even come up, and that you could quietly slip back away. 

But he didn’t. He must’ve been waiting. 

He too looked to be a mess: his cheeks and eyes had puffed up and he looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. He wore minimal clothing that hung loosely on his frame. 

“--Jisung--” 

Before you could say any more, he had leapt into you, and wrapped his arms around you so tightly that he could’ve rid you of all your breath. 

“Baby, thank you so much for coming. Thank you so much. I’m sorry how I acted at the concert. I just missed you so much....I missed you so much.” 

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[bloody-bee-tea]

BeeTober 2020 Day 22

Abandoned - Warmth

I said I would write a coffee shop au and this is barely that. Twitter decided that it would be Xicheng, but NMJ was in the lead for a while so he gets a supportive role ;) 

Jiang Cheng is going to kill Wei Wuxian the next time he sees him. He definitely will kill him, at least assuming he survives this rain without catching pneumonia and dying.

Jiang Cheng hurries along the sidewalk, grumbling under his breath and cursing his brother, because Wei Wuxian was supposed to meet him here like half an hour ago. Instead Jiang Cheng got a message telling him that Wei Wuxian got hold up at Lan Wangji’s—and Jiang Cheng is not so naïve to think that it could be anything but the promise of sex that kept Wei Wuxian from meeting him—and Wei Wuxian abandoned him in an unknown part of the city without a second thought.

And as if that wasn’t enough, it started to pour almost at the same time as Jiang Cheng read the message, because clearly that’s just his luck.

He is going to kill Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng thinks again when he steps into a puddle and cold water runs into his shoe. He definitely will this time, no matter what his sister says to Wei Wuxian’s defence.

Jiang Cheng continues to hurry along the sidewalk, hoping to find any open store or restaurant where he can take shelter, but luck is clearly not on his side.

Everything is dark and cold and Jiang Cheng shivers in his drenched clothes.

If he’s going to die because of this he’s going to haunt the shit out of Wei Wuxian. He better enjoy his evening with Lan Wangji, because it might just be the last he gets with him. Jiang Cheng will make sure that Wei Wuxian will never even think of sex again if he turns into a ghost.

The thoughts are not enough to warm Jiang Cheng, but they do keep him occupied and that’s all Jiang Cheng needs right now.

He looks up when he passes by a lit window and he’s stunned to see the cosiest coffee shop he ever came across. The light is yellow and warm, the smell from it sweet and even without the rain it looks so inviting that Jiang Cheng’s feet move on their own accord.

Not that he would have walked past this opportunity to get out of the freezing rain.

There’s a little bell announcing his arrival and it’s not long before a man comes out from the back. The coffee shop is empty—probably due to the time and the weather—and so his gaze unerringly falls onto Jiang Cheng.

Who came to a stop right behind the door, because he didn’t want to track water through the entire shop.

Right now Jiang Cheng is happy about his decision, because he’s not sure he could have survived looking at the other man from up close.

Even through the shop it’s apparent that the other is gorgeous and Jiang Cheng never did deal well with beautiful people.

“Hi,” Jiang Cheng says awkwardly when the man behind the counter doesn’t say anything and instead stares at him with wide eyes.

“You’re drenched!” comes the startled reply and Jiang Cheng looks down at himself and the small puddle he is standing in.

He winces.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he says and points at the nearest chair. “I’ll just sit here and not make a further mess out of your shop, okay?” he asks and is in the process of moving towards the chair, when the man almost yells at him.

“No!”

Jiang Cheng freezes, just one step away from his puddle and he turns big eyes on the man.

“I mean, you’ll catch a cold like that. I have some spare clothes and a towel,” the man offers him and Jiang Cheng blinks at him in confusion.

“Do we know each other?” Jiang Cheng then asks and the man shakes his head, making his beautiful long hair swing with the motion.

“No, I don’t think we do.”

“Why the hell would you offer me this, then?” Jiang Cheng demands to know and now it’s his turn of being stared at.

“You’ll catch a cold if you don’t change out of those clothes,” the man finally says again and Jiang Cheng looks down at himself yet again.

He’s still dripping all over the floor, probably making a miserable picture, and he has to admit, a change of clothes sounds heavenly right now.

“Fine,” Jiang Cheng agrees and he is entirely unprepared for the way the other man’s face lights up with his smile.

“Come here, then,” he says, waving Jiang Cheng closer and Jiang Cheng sighs before he quickly makes his way over to him.

If he walks fast, he’ll make less of a mess of the shop, right?

“Come into the office,” the man says and now Jiang Cheng is close enough to read the name tag he’s wearing.

Lan Xichen, it says and Jiang Cheng spares half a thought to wonder if there’s any relation to Lan Wangji.

It would be plausible because they do share similar features, but Lan Xichen’s personality seems to be the exact opposite of Lan Wangji’s and so Jiang Cheng shakes that thought away.

“What’s your name?” Lan Xichen asks him and Jiang Cheng startles out of his musings.

“Jiang Cheng,” he introduces himself and goes slightly hot when Lan Xichen smiles at him again.

“Ah, nice to meet you, Jiang Cheng,” he says. “I’m Lan Xichen.”

“I know,” Jiang Cheng blurts out and then feels a traitorous warmth creep up his cheeks when Lan Xichen frowns at him. “Your nametag,” he quickly explains, because he does not want to come off as creepy and Lan Xichen chuckles.

“Right, I forgot about that,” he mutters and then pushes Jiang Cheng down on a chair.

“Wait here, I’ll get the clothes and towel,” Lan Xichen instructs him and then leaves Jiang Cheng alone.

Jiang Cheng is too stunned to do anything but sit and wait for Lan Xichen’s return and so he startles when someone else steps into the room.

“Who are you?” the man demands to know and Jiang Cheng shrinks on the chair, because this man looks like he might be able to break Jiang Cheng in half if he wants to.

And going by the glower on his face, he definitely wants to.

“I’m—,” Jiang Cheng starts but he doesn’t get further than that, because Lan Xichen returns.

“Ah, Mingjue, he came in all dripping wet, please don’t be angry. He’s not a burglar,” Lan Xichen says and smiles at Mingjue.

“Jiang Cheng, in case that makes you feel more reassured,” Jiang Cheng offers and then simply has to endure how Mingjue looks from him to Lan Xichen and back.

“You’re going to mop up the mess you tracked in,” Mingjue finally decides and Jiang Cheng let’s out a relieved breath.

He already saw his life flash before his eyes, this is a rather good outcome, if anyone were to ask him.

“Sure,” he easily agrees, and he sees the way Mingjue eyes his suit pants and the dress shirt.

Jiang Cheng might look like the business man he is, but he is no stranger to all kinds of work, and mopping a floor is hardly the worst thing he’s ever done.

“Just point me towards the cleaning stuff, and I’ll get right on that,” he tacks on and Mingjue narrows his eyes at him.

“I will,” he promises and then looks back at Lan Xichen, an eyebrow raised.

“You should change first,” Lan Xichen says with a nod to Mingjue—and Jiang Cheng can identify unspoken communication when he sees it—and hands Jiang Cheng some clothes and a towel.

“I probably should,” Jiang Cheng grimaces and tugs on his drenched shirt.

Lan Xichen nods again, and then he just stands there, looking at Jiang Cheng without making any move to leave and give Jiang Cheng some privacy to change.

“Do you—have a bathroom?” Jiang Cheng finally asks and it’s only when Lan Xichen drags his eyes away from his chest, that Jiang Cheng realizes that his shirt is almost see through thanks to the rain.

“Yeah, oh, sure,” Lan Xichen rambles and points behind him. “But you can totally change here, I’ll leave you to it,” he then quickly goes on, turns around on his heels and leaves.

He closes the door behind him with a soft click and Jiang Cheng is left to blink after him. He doesn’t think he imagined the red tips of his ears, but Jiang Cheng pushes that thought far away.

Instead, he concentrates on changing out of his ruined clothes. He quickly dries himself off as best as he can, taking extra care to rubble his hair dry, and then he changes into the offered clothes.

They are all just a little bit big on him and Jiang Cheng wonders if they might belong to Lan Xichen himself.

That thought sets off a dangerous warmth in his belly and Jiang Cheng scoffs at himself.

No need to get ahead of himself. Those are probably the only clothes that were around.

Before Jiang Cheng can fret over this any longer, he bundles his wet clothes up in the towel and then steps out of the office.

“Do you have a bag?” he calls out into the shop, and he takes a reflexive step back when Mingjue comes up to him, mop already in his hand.

Damn, he really is one imposingly tall man, Jiang Cheng thinks and he almost has to crane his neck to look up at him.

“Sure,” Mingjue says and pushes the mop at Jiang Cheng just as he takes the clothes out of his hand.

“Xichen is out there,” he then says and walks away without further instructions.

Jiang Cheng frowns but he makes his way into the shop and he does find Lan Xichen there.

“Oh,” Lan Xichen whispers when his eyes fall on Jiang Cheng, and Jiang Cheng feels strangely self-conscious.

“Something wrong?” he asks and tries to smooth his hair down.

He knows it must look like a mess, but there wasn’t a brush and so there’s nothing Jiang Cheng can do about that.

“Not at all,” Lan Xichen gives back, a little bit breathless and Jiang Cheng groans.

“Okay,” he unsurely agrees and then decides to concentrate on the job he has. “I’m gonna start with this then,” he says, lifting the mop and Lan Xichen shakes his head.

“Oh, no, don’t bother, Mingjue was joking about that.”

Jiang Cheng doubts that Mingjue has joked about anything in his life so far, and so he keeps a deadly grip on the mop when Lan Xichen tries to take it from him.

“I said I would clean up my own mess, and I will!” he says and Lan Xichen seems like he wants to fight him on that, but when Mingjue comes out from wherever he hid he let’s go of the mop.

“Good,” Mingjue says with a nod, and Jiang Cheng has no idea why that approval makes Lan Xichen flush.

Jiang Cheng gets to work and since he didn’t leave that big of a mess, he is done rather quickly and then decides to simply keep going. Surely they must be preparing to close by now and he interrupted their whole routine.

The least he can do is help.

Lan Xichen tries to object when he realizes what Jiang Cheng is doing, but Jiang Cheng distracts him with a little bit of small talk and before Lan Xichen can blink, the whole floor is done.

“There,” Jiang Cheng says, weirdly proud of himself and smiles at Lan Xichen, who simply blinks at him.

“You really didn’t have to,” Lan Xichen tries once he jolted himself out of whatever stupor he was in and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“It’s the least I can do, after you gave me these clothes. It was very lucky that you had some spares around here.”

“We didn’t,” Mingjue suddenly says from behind Jiang Cheng. “Those are Xichen’s, and he usually guards them like a dragon his hoard. He doesn’t like it if other people wear his clothes.”

Jiang Cheng frowns, as he plays with the hem of the soft shirt, while Lan Xichen makes a strangled noise and when Jiang Cheng looks at him, he sees the flush on the tip of his ears again.

“Do you give them to many drenched customers, then?” Jiang Cheng asks, though he can barely be classified as a customer, since he didn’t even buy anything.

All he did was make a mess.

“Nope,” Mingjue cheerfully says, and from the corner of his eyes Jiang Cheng can see how Lan Xichen makes some frantic gestures. “Only to cute, grumpy ones, apparently,” Mingjue says and Jiang Cheng presses his lips together.

“A-Jue!” Lan Xichen yells out in outrage and Jiang Cheng watches in delight as the flush travels all the way down to his neck.

“Alright, my work here is done,” Mingjue says, smug as anything and drops a set of keys into Jiang Cheng’s hands. “You seem like the reasonable type, so make sure Xichen doesn’t forget to lock up after you are done with whatever,” he says with a wink and now it’s on Jiang Cheng to blush while Lan Xichen splutters in the back.

“Mingjue!” he yells again, but Mingjue doesn’t pay him any mind and simply walks out on them.

“Uhm,” Jiang Cheng says eloquently and eyes the keys in his hand. “I’m sorry?” he then offers, because clearly Lan Xichen is more than embarrassed and that finally gets Lan Xichen to look at him.

There’s a strange look on his face and Jiang Cheng can’t deny that his heart beats a little bit faster in his chest.

“Do you have anywhere to be?” Lan Xichen asks him, clearly powering through his embarrassment and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“My brother stood me up,” Jiang Cheng offers and is not prepared for the smile that breaks out on Lan Xichen’s face.

“Lucky me, then,” Lan Xichen says and walks past Jiang Cheng to get behind the counter. “Stay for a drink then?” Lan Xichen offers and Jiang Cheng finds himself nodding before he can give this anymore thought.

“I’d stay for more than that, too,” Jiang Cheng finds himself saying and while he wishes the ground would open itself up to swallow him whole, Lan Xichen beams at him.

“We do have the shop to ourselves,” Lan Xichen says with a wink, even though the red on his cheeks turns a colour darker and Jiang Cheng itches to taste his flush.

Maybe he’ll get to, once they finished their drinks.

(He gets to do that and so much more, though they do have to clean the shop again afterwards. And Jiang Cheng does have to remind Lan Xichen to lock up behind him before they leave to continue what they started at Lan Xichen’s place. Nie Mingjue has the audacity to high five both of them when he sees them the next time.)

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #beetober 2020 #untamed fall fest #mdzs #the untamed #xicheng #coffee shop au #modern au #first meetings #flirting #fluff

[stevesharrlngtons]

pin prick and needle sticks.

roman godfrey x reader

summary: your solution for roman’s feeding problem is met with some resistance.

word count: 3.9k

a/n: ya im having so much fun writing again so hopefully there will be more! i hope you enjoy and if you do, pls give me some feedback (-: 

also this is a repost bc this wasn’t showing up in tags 

When you strode into Dr. Pryce’s office, he didn’t try to hide his surprise at your uncharacteristic appearance.

“Ms. (Y/L/N)! This is surely an unexpected visit.” Pryce pushed out of his desk chair to meet you in the middle of the large glass room.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” You say politely as Johann takes the coat that’s folded over your arm.

“No, not presently. I was just about to wrap up some paperwork and go to lunch.”

“Well, I won’t keep you long. I am hoping my question has a simple enough answer.” You say as you take a seat in one of the visitors chairs across from his desk.

“So, you are looking for my expertise on a matter?” Pryce asks, taking his own seat now.

“Yes, and maybe a small favor depending on your answer.” You smile, trying to seem as sweet as possible.

You knew Johann was asked for wild favors and cover ups where the Godfrey family was concerned constantly, almost on the daily. You wanted him to be receptive to your idea and not shoot you down before he heard your pitch.

Pryce was tolerant of your presence and occasionally even fond of your acquaintance when Roman needed him for something or another. You were very bright and amiable company.

He sighs deeply, already seeming resistant, “Is this a Roman related favor?”

“Yes, but not in the way you think. It’s more like a gift I need your help in giving.”

Johann looked extremely perplexed as he placed his laced fingers on his desktop, “Now I am very intrigued. Please, proceed,”

“You are aware that Roman has been having some trouble sourcing food. Right?” You try to say everything as delicately as possible, even though you knew Pryce knew about Roman’s situation in full. Probably even more than you knew.

“Yes, I am. Unfortunately Olivia forbids me to speak with him on the matter before she does, and she refuses to do so until Roman goes to her for help.”

“Withholding access to food, sounds like an award winning mother if you ask me.”

Johann chuckles, “Yes, Olivia is nothing but selfless.”

“Selfless and maternal.”

Pryce laughs again before he asks you what is the nature of your visit in relation to Roman and his upirism.

“Like all things in Roman’s life that are broken, I have found the solution to fix them. In this case, I have decided that I will take my blood and give it to him. As much as I can give, so he will never have to worry about where to feed again.” You said this with a self assured expression, elated that you had come up with a way to help your love.

The true extent of Roman’s feeding problem had become apparent one night while you were making love.

Roman sat on his knees, your legs around his waist while he pressed his hips deliciously into yours. He had set a gentle rhythm of thrusts, ones that were illicting your mewls and calls of his name from your lips. While you were reveling in your pleasure, Roman was trembling. Desire filming his eyes as they transfixed on your jugular. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the faint thrum in your neck, your voice becoming hazy and distant as his mouth watered at the sight of your craned neck below him. It wasn’t until you grabbed his cheeks that he snapped from his thirsty stupor.

Roman tumbled off your naked form to the floor of the bedroom unceremoniously, skirting away from you until his back reached the wall, the farthest wall from the bed. You had sat up, not bothering to cover yourself as you stared at your crumpled boyfriend, who shook and stammered under his breath.

“I can’t, OK? We can’t! Not until I feed again. I don’t think I can control it- I can’t control myself.”

“Baby, it’s going to be fine. I know you would never hurt me,” You push away the remains of crumpled sheets and begin toward him, but Roman flinches aggressively.

“I can’t help it, no matter how much I don’t want too, I will. I would kill you just for a taste and I would hate myself forever.”

You wanted to offer yourself up on a silver platter then and there. Ask him to drink from you because even if he doubted his control, you knew he would stop feeding before you were in any semblance of danger. You just wanted to make him feel better, in any way you could. But, as Roman wove his hands into his hair and tugged ruthlessly at the roots, it was clear that this wasn’t going to become an argument, or even a conversation. Roman left the bedroom soon after, muttering something about the refrigerator and leeches, while you watched him leave with an ache in your chest.

You had been trying to figure out the best possible solution to Roman’s problem since. After contemplating many different avenues, you concluded that you weren’t a bank robber (even if it was just a blood bank) and hiring someone from Craigslist seemed too risky (and too weird). So, you had fallen back on your original idea from that night: Roman would drink from you.

“To be clear, you want to extract your own blood and stockpile it for Roman?”

“Exactly. I just need to know how to do it and how much I can give per week without dying of iron deficiency or something.” You nonchalantly reply.

“This is very noble of you to do, (Y/N).”

You wave a dismissive hand at his compliment, “I just want to help him in the best way I can. It’s what you do for the people you love.”

Pryce stares at you for a moment, and begins to wonder how Roman attracted you in the first place? He was sure it was the young man’s killer good looks and the charm he held with the opposite sex that first caught your attention, but you were a smart girl. You wouldn’t fall for him simply because he was a blueprint for a Greek statue or threw a few saccharine words your way. He wondered if Roman was warm and adoring? Sweet and loving and soft when he was only in your company? From what Pryce had seen first hand, Roman was kind and gentle when you were around, but only ever to you. The second Roman laid his eyes back on Pryce or anyone else for that matter, he was back to an angry frothing terror to anyone in his path.

“When giving blood for say, The Red Cross, they take about a liter of your blood which is around 15 fluid ounce. You shouldn’t give more than that a mouth, but I could give you a few supplements that could help replenish your red blood cells at a slightly quicker rate so you would be able to give blood once a week.

“You would likely need to take breaks, possibly a month on and a month off? To make sure that giving blood this frequently wouldn’t take any serious toll, or have any significant side effects on the body.” Pryce explains.

“And these supplements won’t do anything weird to me if I take them?” You trusted Pryce, but only minutely. While you felt cordial with him, you still knew to be weary of his experiments.

“No, of course not. They are all over the counter supplements and vitamins that you can buy on your own accord. I would just tell you how, when and the quantity to take.”    

You sighed at his answer and laughed lightly, “So it’s all good? We could do it?”

“I don’t see why not. I could send a tech to your home to administer the IV, and possibly if this method of feeding works out for Roman long term, you could learn to insert it yourself.”

“Am I going to have like, crazy puncture marks? Am I gonna look like a junkie?” You asked, the vanity of this whole thing only now coming to your mind.

“Unfortunately, there will be noticeable marks and possible bruises from repeated insertions. I could work on something to heal your puncture marks, as I said, if this becomes a main source of Roman’s feeding.”

You nod, mulling over the information for a moment.

“When could we start?”

Telling Roman about the whole thing never even crossed your mind. To you, this was a gift that you were going to give to him, and you loved the element of surprise. It was strange, sure, but to you, this idea of yours felt totally romantic. Some women gave their boyfriends watches, or flat screen TV’s, or let them put in their ass on their birthdays; but for your boyfriend? The man who had every material object he desired and every sexual need quenched? Your blood was a perfect way to show him you cared.

You didn’t want Roman to get just one bag for the first time you presented him with the blood, so you waited four long weeks to create your mini arsenal for him. You just took to wearing long sleeves around the house and silk robes right before bed to hide the little marks on your arms. Roman, still not at his most observant from his lack of feedings, didn’t even bat an eye at your clothing choices.

After your final session with one of Pryce’s tech’s in your home, you felt giddy. You had been keeping the blood in the outside fridge until you had the stockpile you desired, knowing Roman never checked it’s contents. Tonight was the night you were finally going to give them to him.

After Pryce’s man left, you placed your newest bag in the refrigerator and went back inside to change into something far more alluring than the sweatpants you adorned currently. This was going to be a special night for your man and you wanted to pull out all the stops. You had already directed Conway and Anna to make a four course feast for the two of you before you would bring out Roman’s surprise.

After changing into the tightly fitted black dress you had picked out a few weeks ago, along with Roman’s favorite silk lingerie set, you went back downstairs to continue to set the scene for Roman when he returned from work. You scattered candles around the room and played an old jazz record to soothe any worry or anxiety from your boyfriend once he entered your shared home. You wanted everything to be perfect, he deserved it.

As you finished and Anna and Conway were wrapping up the meal, you heard someone placing a key in the front door. You turned to see Roman’s tall silhouette through the frosted glass and you couldn’t keep the smile off your lips.

When he walked through the door, he looked exhausted. His eyes were haloed in shadows and he was gaunt, his pale skin pasty and dull. He looked about ready to collapse.

Until he saw you.

“Welcome home.” You said, a wide grin on your features.

“What’s all this?” Roman asked as you met him by the door.

“I know how stressed you’ve been and I wanted to set up a nice evening for the two of us.” You replied as you pushed his coat off his shoulders and held out for Conway to take.

Roman glanced over your shoulder to see the extent of the fuss you had made for him and his shoulders visibly relaxed, “You’re amazing.”

You took both his hands and started to walk back toward the table, “That I am, and I have a little surprise for you after dinner.”

Roman tugs you to him suddenly, causing you to stumble a bit in your heels, but that only accomplished to bring you flush to him.

“Is my surprise under this sexy little get up of yours?” Roman’s eyes twinkle with lust as he moves his hands down to grip your ass.

You hum with delight, “I guess you have two surprises coming, then.”

You lean up to place a lingering kiss to his lips and Roman groans a curse as you step away from his hold.

“But for now, let’s eat and unwind. How was your day?” You ask, pulling out Roman’s chair for him.

“Better now.” He grinned, one that was without smare or ulterior motive. Just a pure smile radiating happiness.

After you chatted about your days and Roman having bitched about work to his heart’s content, you both finished the delicious dinner that was prepared for you. You had moved across the table to sit on his lap while you both shared a chocolate mousse, the gentle ping of the silver spoon against the serving glass lulling you both into calm relaxation and sloth as you ate the rich dessert.

Roman’s temple was pressed against your exposed cleavage, practically purring with the bliss he felt.

“Thank you for tonight, baby. I needed it.” He sighed, turning his head just enough to let you kiss his lips.

“Of course, my love.” You responded, stroking your hand through his hair, “I’d pluck the stars from the sky if it’d make you happy.”

“Hey,” Roman smiles, poking your side, “That’s my line.”

You giggle as Roman prodes you, “Well, while I’m taking your lines, let me take another. I got you something and I need to go and get it.”

“You know I don’t need anything.” Roman says, squeezing you once more before you got off his lap.

“This present is something you need, trust me.” You say over your shoulder as you exit the kitchen and enter the garage to get the gift box you had prepared.

Was this all very dramatic? Yes. Over the top? Of course.

But you loved pampering Roman, so you threw all cares to the wind.

As you entered the kitchen with the rectangular black gift box held together with a silk ribbon, Roman looked at you confused.

“Jeez, what is that? Is my mother’s head in there?” He asked as he watched you place the box on the dining table.

“I wish.” You chuckled, dusting your hands off on your dress as you looked into Roman’s puzzled expression, “Open it.”

Unable to even guess what could be in the box, Roman stood up and walked toward you and where it lay.

“It’s not gonna be anything that’s gonna pop out at me, right?”

“Oh my God, stop being such a bitch and open it already!” You laugh, nudging him with your shoulder as you quaked with excitement.

Roman finally pulled on the black ribbon and slowly untied it, causing the sides of the box to fall apart and reveal it’s contents.

“Surprise!” You said, jumping slightly in place, barely able to keep your excitement to yourself as Roman took in the gift.

He just looked at the blood blankly, all placed in a row before him. His mouth hung open, but he said nothing.

“How did you get this?”

“Well, that’s the extra special part. It’s mine,” You gestured to the blood, “It’s all from me.”

Roman looked up at you, and the appreciation you’d thought you’d see written all over his face wasn’t there. Instead his face was red with anger.

“How could you do this? How could you be so reckless!” Roman raged.

Your heart sank with embarrassment and grief.

“I thought you’d like it.”  

“Like it? Baby, why would I like you taking your blood to give to me? Do you know how dangerous this is? Do you!” You cowered under his voice, lip quivering.

“I thought you would be happy, I thought I was helping. Now you don’t have to worry about feeding or hurting anyone. I can just give blood every now and then and give it to you.” You responded, trying desperately to mend the evening.

“How did you even do this? How did you figure this out?” Roman picked up one of the bags and furiously tossed it back down.

You furrowed your brows and took a step toward your boyfriend, “OK, so don’t get mad- well, don’t get more mad I guess… but I asked Pryce-”

“You asked Pryce?” Roman shrieked, his eyes bulging from his head.

“Yes! But it wasn’t his idea, it was mine. The whole thing was my idea and all he did was help me and make sure I was safe.” You said quickly as Roman paced the length of the table in front of you.

“I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill that stupid little prick and rip his cock off and shove it down his throat!” Roman bellowed.

“Ro, it’s not his fault,”

“It is! He let you do this! Indulged you! He fucking put a needle in your arm and touched you!” It was then that Roman finally zeroed in on the small circular band aid on the inner crook of your elbow and his face passed its red hue into bright crimson.

“Pryce never touched me! He had a lab tech help me.”

“Then I’m killing the tech, then Pryce, then everyone in that fucking nut house of a lab who knew this was happening and didn’t tell me!”

“Stop!” You shouted over Roman’s angry rant, “Enough! This wasn’t anyone’s fault but my own, apparently. I fucked up, I can see that now. But I honestly and truly thought you would love this. That you could be satiated from my blood and never worry about where the next source would come from. But hey? Guess I was wrong.”

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you turned on your heel to leave.

“(Y/N),” Roman called after you but you stuck up your hand to silence him.

“No, I just want to go to sleep. I’ll see you in bed.” And you walked up the stairs to leave your boyfriend stewing in his own ire.

Stripped from your dress and lingerie, you lay under the thick covers of the bed and mindlessly watch some old re-run of a sitcom. It had been well over an hour since you had left Roman in the kitchen and each second he stayed away was another second of heartbreak and humiliation. You still weren’t sure why Roman had blown up the way he did… sure it was risky, but nothing that you couldn’t handle. You were a grown fucking woman who knew her own limits. You had picked up the supplements Pryce had prescribed you and you had been feeling perfectly fine. If you ever started to feel any effects, you knew you would head straight to Pryce or your primary doctor.

As another commercial break washed over the screen, Roman opened the door to the bedroom and peeked his head inside.

“You OK?”

“No.”

Roman sighed as he came fully into the room and shut the door behind himself, leaning against it.

“Listen, I’m sorry about the scene down there…”

“I’m sorry, too. I should have asked you first if you would have been OK with me doing this for you.” You slumped your shoulder into the mattress.

Roman just watched you.

“I just… Roman, I really thought you would like it! I thought you might even be grateful. I really meant what I said downstairs, I would give you a star if that would make you happy, I really would. And I thought helping solve your feeding problem would make you happy, and it didn’t, so I’m sorry.”

Still Roman stayed silent, just studying you, wrapped in a coil of thick blankets. He soon walked toward the bed and sat on the corner, his back facing you. He hunched over and placed his head in his hands, gently shook it side to side.

“I was never really even that mad at you, baby. Just at Pryce, I guess. And scared…”

“Scared about what?”

“Seriously? You’re going to ask that?” Roman glowered.

You kicked your foot out to the edge he was sitting on to jostle him, “Don’t be an asshole.”

He grumbled something under his breath that you sure was unkind before he continued.

“I was obviously fucking scared because this could go wrong, alright? You could get sick or stop clotting or something! I don’t know. I don’t have to be rational when it comes to your safety and health.”

You rolled your eyes at that comment, “I thought I was being rational coming up with this idea, Roman. In my head, this would solve everything. No more leeches or starving or worrying that you’ll kill someone when it gets too much!”

Roman looked back at you, his eyes intense as your cheeks heated with your outburst.

“I just-! Fuck,” He turned back around, bouncing his knee, “I don’t want you to do this for me and something bad happening. That’s it, that’s all.”

You frown and whisper his name, just loud enough for him to hear.

“And because you went to Pryce and not me… and that no one at my own fucking company told me about this. Fucking traitors.”

You shuffled your way out from the blankets and crawled your way toward Roman, placing a gentle hand to his shoulder to gage his reaction before you moved to hug him.

“I’m not going to get hurt, I promise. Pryce told me where to buy some vitamins to keep me healthy and they have been working. I won’t continue if I start to feel sick. And if by some chance I do, you will be the first person I tell.”

Roman says nothing at first, but you knew he heard you. You placed a few simple kisses to his shoulder and wound your arms tighter around his waist, snuggling to him.

“I want to know the second you start to feel anything less than fantastic, OK? If you feel faint or nauseous or even if you have a fucking headache, alright? I’m not fucking around here.” He replied firmly.

A smile spread across your face and you pressed it to his skin, “Of course, baby. No more secrets ever again.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Roman trailed off with a sigh, but leaning into your touch.

“You know,” You started, moving around his neck to see his face, “I thought the idea of you drinking my blood was very romantic. Maybe even erotic.”

Roman moved to give you a quizzical look and you only grinned wider.

“Something about giving myself to you fully, running through your veins, letting you have all of me, you don’t think that’s romantic?”

Roman’s lips began to pull into his signature smirk, “I think I was little more taken by your erotic comment.”

You giggled and playfully bit his shoulder, “I don’t know, I think about watching you drink it… about you covered in it and knowing it’s from me,”

Roman was quick to grab you and manhandle you around him and into his lap.

“Yeah?” He asked, smirk persistent as his hands explored your body.

“Yeah… knowing you drink my blood, my cum, that you’re the only one who knows my taste… it got me all hot, baby.”

Roman groaned deep in his chest as he dug his fingers into your hips, twitching his hips up against you and making your eyes flutter.

“My baby, my girl,” He hummed, leaning forward to ghost his lips over your own, “You drive me absolutely wild.”

“All better now?”

Roman just chuckles, grinding you down onto him.

“And you’ll drink the blood?”

“Yeah, fine,” And he finally kisses you.

You knew that he was playing it off now like it was nothing, but the honesty you had shown him, and the utter devotion you had just pledged, meant something to him. It meant everything to him.

i really hope you enjoyed!!!! if you do, i’d love to hear your thoughts (:

#roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey imagine #roman godfrey imagines #roman godfrey reader insert #roman godfrey fanfic #roman godfrey fanfiction #hemlock grove fanfic #hemlock grove fanfiction #hemlock grove imagine #hemlock grove imagines #hemlock grove reader insert #bill skarsgård x reader #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgård imagine #stevesharrlngtonswrites

[johnny-and-dora]

you and i are very close

"A younger Holt less familiar with Jake Peralta would reprimand him for being so easy to read – but it seems to be in his very nature to wear his heart on his sleeve, and the truth is, it suits him."

or, jake & holt talk about fatherhood. (post 7x10)

read on ao3 -

“…So that’s the lowdown on the Broughton case. Charles and I are gonna head out and arrest them as soon as the warrant comes through.” Jake finishes, bouncing slightly on his heels as he finishes the update. Raymond Holt leans back in his chair, content with their plan of action.

“Excellent work, detective.” Holt says – but then finds himself mildly concerned when he only receives a subdued nod in reply. While he may deem it an appropriate workplace response to a captain’s praise, it is far from the excessive energy and enthusiasm that Jake usually exudes.

Raymond recalls the previous night’s events – a biological sex reveal party that led to Jake’s father being taken to the ER – and wonders if that might be placating the detective’s usually golden Labrador-like temperament.

“I trust that your father is in good health?” He asks tentatively, gesturing for Jake to sit down- he pauses for a moment before doing so, leg jostling in a way that increases Holt’s concern by 17.5%.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. Sorry our party was kind of a full-blown disaster. Guess I should have expected that with three generations of Peraltas in the room.” He makes the self-deprecating remark with the light-hearted bravado Holt has come to expect from the detective, though it’s notably flatter than usual.

What’s more, his smile is more of a grimace, and he can’t stop fidgeting with the badge around his neck – a classic Peralta tell. Something is clearly bothering him, likely related to his complex relationship with his father and his own fatherhood looming.

A younger Holt less familiar with Jake Peralta would reprimand him for being so easy to read – but it seems to be in his very nature to wear his heart on his sleeve, and the truth is, it suits him. It is an openness, a trust and a sincerity that Holt has earned over the years as Jake’s superior officer. Though he still finds himself exasperated by his stubbornness and fixation on action films, Holt sincerely values his respect and loyalty.

He frowns, trying to assess the best way to discreetly discern what could be causing the detective’s distress.

“I actually found the party to be rather enjoyable, save the alarming bloodshed. The carrots were rich in nutrition and I thought the cake’s green colour made a very interesting and progressive statement.”

Jake’s lips quirk up a little at that, and he sits straighter in the chair, so Holt must be doing something right.

“Thank you, Captain, but that actually wasn’t our intention. Just another screw-up.”

“I see.” He considers this new information briefly, before attempting to continue the non-case related chitter-chatter, something he usually avoids. “So, you are now aware of the biological sex of your child?”

“Oh, yeah! We’re having a boy.” Jake finally smiles genuinely, and Raymond can’t help but return it. He may not personally care much for small infants, but the thought of the bickering detectives he first met when he came to the Nine-Nine having a child together does inspire some fatherly pride over how far they’ve come.

“My congratulations to you both.” He nods again, but his gaze is still far away. Holt decides to subtly switch tactics.

“You know, whatever doubts may be plaguing you, I am certain you have absolutely nothing to be worried about. Your son is very lucky to have you both as parents.”

“What? I’m not, um, there’s absolutely zero doubts to be found here.” Jake’s eyebrows briefly shoot up to his hairline as he stammers some typically poorly concealed denial. Holt remains neutral, wishing he had done some research on the subject but doing his best to power through.

“It is perfectly natural to be anxious about such things.”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the gentle encouragement is all that it takes for a veritable avalanche of emotions to trip over themselves as Jake speaks.

“I guess I just…I want to be the best dad I can be. I don’t want him to ever feel like…like he’s been abandoned or he’s alone. It’s crazy how much I already love this kid and I haven’t even met him yet, but I know I would do absolutely anything to keep him safe. And with my dad talking about this stupid Peralta father-son curse and my grandpa being a jerk and walking out of our lives all over again…I don’t know. I just know that I don’t want to let him – or Amy – down. Ever.”

Holt is admittedly, a little overwhelmed. He and Kevin have never seen the appeal of conforming to heteronormative ideals of family life, and yet he values his place as the head of the chosen family he’s found at the Nine-Nine. The mysteries of pregnancy and childcare are complete unknowns to him, yet he finds himself completely certain that Jake and Amy will be great parents to their future son.

So, Holt does what he has always found it easiest to do, and he tells Jake the truth.

“I am not sure of this family ‘curse’ you speak of, but as your commanding officer for the majority of the past seven years, I know your doubts are ill-founded. On the contrary, the dedication and loyalty you have shown me, and every member of this squad, only makes me surer you will be a great father.”

“Really?” Jake says, hopeful but apparently still unconvinced.

“This job is not an easy one. You and I know both know first-hand how our lives can be affected by circumstances we cannot control. But you would never willingly let your family down, and the fact that you are so committed to doing everything you can for them is a sure sign that you never will.” Holt pauses briefly to let his sincerity sink in.

“Your son is going to love you, Jake. He will grow to enjoy many Thomas Cruise films with you, and I’m sure he will come to share your passion for…the transforming robot sewer turtles?”

“Feel compelled to tell you those are two completely different franchises, but I really appreciate the attempt and I will be emailing Michael Bay’s team about a potential cross-over.”

“Well. Regardless of the specifics of these cartoon turtles, I am sure you have understood my point.”

“Yes. Thank you, sir. I- that means, uh, a lot.” His thanks is, as usual, completely earnest, and Holt finds himself glad to have helped in any small way. He cannot completely solve the detective’s issues with fatherhood, but he is happy to be one consistent and stable presence for Jake to rely on. Just as he knows he can rely on him.

“You are welcome. And you are free to discuss any other personal issues you may have with me, although I assume Santiago may be better suited to such conversations.”

“She’s been telling me pretty much the same thing.” Jake admits, shifting in his seat. Raymond briefly wonders about the intricacies of their home life, whether they will discuss this conversation over dinner or perhaps during the commercials of some form of media content.

“Well, I recommend you listen to her. She has proven herself to be extremely perceptive and is rarely ever wrong.”

“I know.” Jake grins, a very specific smile on his face that Holt recognises has long been reserved for talking about Amy, even before they began their courtship. “Sometimes I still can’t believe she married me.”

Holt thinks of years spent watching them endlessly bicker and argue and tease each other, thinks of the intimacy affection he sees most often when they are inebriated at Shaw’s bar. He thinks of how ragged and distraught they’ve been each time they’ve been forced apart and how relieved they were to be back together. He thinks of officiating their wedding and accidentally intruding on their honeymoon, and above all, he thinks about each moment of their shared happiness together he has been privileged enough to witness.

“I do not believe she was wrong about that either.”

It’s an expression of sentiment which breaches many of his strict rules of conduct and professionality in the workplace, and he’s partly reluctant to be debasing himself so willingly. But then Jake’s eyes are shining with gratitude and his usual enthusiastic bright demeanour has returned and Raymond can’t help but feel relieved.

“Oh my god, I always knew you were our secret number one fan. Charles is going to be crushed.”

“You are dismissed.”

“Noooo, but I really want to stay and talk about how invested you are in our relationship- “

“-Please leave my office.”

Holt maintains his usual stony-faced composure until Jake shuts the door – only then does he allow himself to relax in his seat a little, fondly thinking of Kevin, Cheddar and the family he has found in the Nine-Nine. He makes a note to discuss stuffed animal varieties with Kevin at a later date so that they may have something to present Jake and Amy’s son when he arrives.

And when he gets to meet the newest addition to the Santiago-Peralta family a few short months later, held oh-so-carefully and preciously in the arms of a man he has come to consider a son, it is a meeting that he treasures for the rest of his life.

#b99 #b99 fic #brooklyn 99 #listen. i have a lot of emotions about soon-to-be-father jake and his gay work dad #so here you go #my writing #shut up sian

[jawritter]

You and Me...

Chapter 4

***SERIES WARNINGS**** Rape, non-con, male!rape, injury, violence, description of injury caused by rape, nightmares, self-harm, panic attacks, implied female non-con, language, ass hole Jensen, hurt!Jensen, dark fic, smut. If there is anything else I will add it as I go.

***Chapter Warnings*** Okay guys please pay attention to the warnings I’m about to say! This chapter gets a little heavy, and this is where it all starts to kind of pick up. This chapter will contain hints of non-con/ rape. Rough smut, Jensen is a complete ass hole in this one, and before you ask there is a reason for it, mostly to give you a peek at his mindset before things really get rocky for him. The actions of the characters in this fic are completely fiction, and they are not to be seen as reflections of the people themselves! Lighter warnings are language, self-loathing (implied on Jensen’s part), mild descriptions of injury related to sex, nothing heavy there’s worse out there, degrading actions in a way, regret, angst, smut, I think that’s everything. (At least I hope so.)

Word Count: 2236

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jensen Ackles x Misha, Jensen Ackles x Jared, Jensen Ackles x Jessica, Reader X OFC Alex

A/N: When I originally wrote this chapter I didn’t even know who Steve Carlson was, so the Steve in this story isn’t him lol. Oddly enough I wrote this before I even really knew he was making an album lol. Anyway, all mistakes are mine, please don’t copy my work, Feedback is golden. If you want to be added to the series tag list, or my tag list just let me know! I hope you enjoy this one. After this chapter things tend to start to pick up a little.

Summary: It’s funny how one choice you made can change your whole life. One mistake can alter your course, and set you on a path that forever will haunt you. Two people find themselves getting through one of the hardest trials of Jensen’s life, on just one small promise. You and Me. We’ll get through it together…

Want more? Check out my Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***YOU AND ME MASTERLIST***

Jensen’s POV:

“I can’t believe she got you back!” 

Jared was laughing, leaning up against the bar in Jensen’s kitchen. Misha was sitting across from him, trying to hide the fact that he thought it was more than a little funny as well. 

“Yeah man, you kinda ask for it,” he finally said, taking a long swig of his beer. A smirk firmly planted on his face and his eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement. 

 "Screw you both,“ Jensen said, turning around and grabbing himself a beer out of the fridge, a smirk playing across his face. He saw the hint of jealousy cross Y/N’s face when he greeted Jennifer today. He didn’t miss that every time he gave Jennifer a compliment, or flirted with her just a little bit that it was getting under Y/N’s skin. He knew Y/N had a crush on him.

He’d been in the entertainment industry long enough to be able to pick it off a girl’s face across a room. Which came in pretty handy at bars and parties. 

He saw the way her breath caught when she met him for the first time. He saw the smirk cross her face when he got pissed today while she was screwing with him.

Jensen slipped his tongue out and over his full pink lips, letting it run across his lips slowly, followed by his teeth pulling slightly at his bottom lip. 

"I know that look,” Misha said not even trying to hide his amusement at this point. “He likes her,” he said, looking to Jared grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “Jensen’s got the hots for Y/N,” still with that same evil smirk on his face. 

“What? No, I don’t!” Jensen said, getting up from his seat he’d just sat in across the bar from Jared and turning his back to them again so that they could not see his face, acting like he was cleaning up a spill on the counter. 

“Oh yeah, I’ve seen that look before. You got a crush on Y/N. Furthermore, I think she may have it for you just as bad. She just doesn’t know it yet,” Misha said, taking another swig of his beer, raising his eyebrows annoyingly.

“I do not have a thing for Y/N,” Jensen said, still trying to defend himself. “She’s a self-absorbed little bitch.”

“She’s only a bitch because you’re a dick,” Jared said, staring at his friend and trying his best to read him. 

Jensen just stopped wiping at the counter and stared at him. The conversation he walked up on coming back to his mind. The look on Y/N’s face when she said that he was probably gonna go fuck Jennifer later stun more than he wanted to admit it did, even to himself. 

He ran his fingers ideally over the small piece of paper in his pocket that Jennifer had slipped there when he hugged her goodbye today. No doubt it was her number. He definitely had a chance to get her in bed. That’s all he’d want from her anyway. She seemed like a nice enough girl, but she was a lot younger than him, and he didn’t want to screw up her life by letting her get attached to him.  It had been way too long since he was ‘with’ a woman, and he needed to blow off some steam. 

“I’m definitely thinking about hooking up with that blonde though,” Jensen said with a smirk, his friends exchanged worried looks between themselves. 

“Jay she’s young, man,” Jared said looking at his friend, his concern grew more and more by the minute. He’d never seen Jensen act this way before, much less heard him talk about or to a woman the way he has lately.  

“She’s legal,” Jensen said, waving his hand, and blowing his friend off, and pulling out his phone and the little slip of paper. 

“Whatever man, I still think it’s a bad idea,” Misha said, getting up and finishing his beer. He didn’t like to see Jensen in this state, and he wasn’t going to watch him sit around and do something stupid. 

“I’ll see you guys around. I got a charity event to help organize. You guys gonna be there?” he asked, looking at Jared more than Jensen. Seems like Jensen’s plans had already been set for the night.

“Sure man, I’ll be there,” Jared said, getting up to see Misha out to his rental car. Jensen just grunted and continued texting, setting up his meetup for tonight. 

Your POV:

Sitting at your friend’s bar in downtown Austin you take a look at the room that was buzzing around you.

It wasn’t late, but it was a weekday, so the crowd here was kind of calmer than usual. You liked it when the bar was like this. Less noise and chaos.  Alex, your friend, was leaning in on the bar cleaning off some spilled alcohol from a few minutes ago when he tried to show off his shot stacking skills and failed miserably. You needed the laugh. He was always good for that. That’s why he was one of the people you were closest to.  He always knew how to pick you up when you needed it.

“So, how much longer do you have to work with said dick?” Alex asked, you weren’t supposed to tell anyone that Jensen was recording at your work, but you knew Alex wouldn’t tell anyone. 

The two of you had met In college, and he was the older brother you never had. You told him everything. You always had. When you started having trouble in any way you always told him. This Jensen issue was no different. 

“Not a clue. Kinda is up to him. However long it takes for him to correctly cut the 12 songs he’s chosen to record. He’s talented enough, but he’s such a raging ass hole,” you tell him, taking a long swig of your beer. 

“You know it seems a little out of character for the guy. I’ve seen all the convention videos and watched the tv interviews. He didn’t seem like a dick then. Jared said he was going through a divorce. We don’t know what his ex-wife did. Just give him some space and some respect. We’re not in his shoes and we don’t know what he’s going through. He may loosen up around you now that he knows you can hold your own,” Alex said, walking down the bar to wait on another customer. 

You knew he was right. He usually was. Alex always tried to see the best in everyone, no matter how they presented themselves. That was just his way. 

Maybe some of this was your fault. You hadn’t exactly handled this situation like an adult either. So if you were being completely honest with yourself, you could be partially to blame.

Tomorrow you will try and make peace with the man because you didn’t really want to go to war with someone like him. You also had watched the con videos, and the thought of having to deal with an ass hole who likes to prank people just wasn’t falling very high on your bucket list. 

Tonight though, you would enjoy the fact that today you won. That would be enough. You still had to work with the man for the foreseeable future. There was no reason to have to go to work miserable every day, just because you couldn’t handle a little attitude from a client. 

You were going to be the bigger person if it killed you.

Still, when he looked at you, no matter how mad you were at him, or how much you tried to hate him, you get that same feeling deep in your gut that you haven’t been able to pinpoint yet. It bothered you. It bothered you more than it probably should have. Cause once he was done with this recording, you knew you’d never see him again. That was probably what got to you most of all.

Jensen’s POV:

Sliding his now softened length out of the young blond laying underneath him, Jensen immediately stood to his feet without even looking at Jennifer he started for the bathroom. She laid there on the bed, saying nothing, just staring at Jensen. A pissed off look on her face. 

That was not what she expected. 

That wasn’t what she really wanted. 

How could she tell him no though? He really gave her no room for an opinion. 

Jensen had been a little rough with Jennifer purposely. All he wanted was to do what came there to do and leave. He didn’t want her getting attached, and catching feelings that he honestly wouldn’t be able to reciprocate it. 

Someone else seemed to have a hold on him already, no matter how much he fought against it.

He could tell she hadn’t enjoyed what had just gone on between them. He had got off though, and so in his opinion, his mission was accomplished. 

When he came out of the bathroom he saw her sitting with her back to him slipping her shirt back on over her head. He saw the light purple bruises he had left on her neck and sides. Flashes of what went on a few moments ago ran in front of his eyes. 

Her small frame slamming against the door. His hands roughly undressed her. The feeling of his hand firmly around her throat. The look of fear in her eyes.

 He shook his head trying to shake the image from his mind. Guilt already starting to take its hold. 

When she stood to slide her skirt back up her legs he saw the bruises he had left here in the shape of his fingers. She had told him he was hurting her, that she wanted him to stop; but he didn’t. He just kept going until he was finished... Why didn’t he just stop…

Jensen swallowed hard, trying to not vomit in the middle of the hotel room floor. His own actions made him sick to his stomach. Why did he do that? What the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t want to hurt her. He just…  He just lost control, taking things out on her that he’d obviously had pint up inside of him since the divorce. 

Walking over to her without a word Jensen looked down at her, and she wouldn’t look at him. Damn, he’d screwed up now, and he knew it. 

Putting his finger under her chin, making her look at him. He stared at her for a moment. There was something wrong, no light there. The excited girl he’d taken here just an hour before long gone.

He hated what he was doing, but he had to protect himself. 

“Let’s just keep tonight between you and me. No need for anyone else to know,” he said, winking at her like it could solve everything, and she’d just melt at his feet and forgive him. 

He knew that wasn’t going to happen. She said nothing, just stared at him with hate forming in her eyes. Pulling a few bills from his pocket, Jensen threw it on the bed next to her. She looked down at the money, and then up to him. 

“Show yourself out,” he said. grabbing his wallet and heading for the door. 

He hated himself for what he just did. He saw it now. He needed help. The look on that poor girl’s face haunting his memory as he drove back to his house, stopping several times along the way to throw up. Even though it started out consensual, it hadn’t ended that way and he knew it.  

He didn’t even make it to the front door before another wave of bile fell from his mouth uncontrollably, having already lost the entire contents of his stomach on the drive home. 

He had turned into a monster. He hated himself for what he’d just done, but he couldn’t take it back. It was done. There was no way to fix it.

Images of himself repeatedly ramming himself into her. The dead star that took hold on her face after she finally gave up begging him to stop. The tears that were pouring down her face.  How she tried to squirm away from him... 

Another wave of sick came falling from his mouth as he stood in the shower, scrubbing his skin raw under scalding hot water, trying to wash the monster away. He’d never forgive himself for what he’d done to Jennifer. He dreaded facing her at the studio tomorrow.  How in the hell was he going to face someone he’d hurt so deeply?

He drank himself to sleep that night, texting Jared telling him that he was sorry for the way he’d been acting, promising he would stop being an ass hole. He didn’t tell his friend what he’d done, he couldn’t, he could never tell anyone. It would die with him, shame making him hate himself deeper than he ever thought was possible.

He laid there that night praying that whoever was listening up there would forgive him for what he’d done. 

Give him another chance. 

—————————————————————————————————-

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#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles dark fic #hurt!jensen #jensen x you #jensen x reader #jensen fanfiction #jensen fanfic #jensen #dark fick #SPN fanfiction #SPN Fanfic #SPN #jensen ackles series

[what-a-messsss]

2x2 rewatch

Eeeeehehehehe, why the fuck am I laughing this hard when I realized it was the roadkill compost episode?  That is not in the least funny, it’s actually pretty gross, but I’m literally paused 3 seconds in chortling to myself so hard that I’m having to wipe away tears.  ...I think the stress is getting to me.  Anyway, back to fictional Wyoming!

It’s actually a pretty genius business model, to be honest.  Taking a sadly repeating resource and using it to enrich the soil?  Tough work, no doubt, physically and mentally, but a smart and very niche thing.  I hadn’t thought about the fact that cleaning up roadkill would have been part of Walt’s job as a deputy.  Lucian said in S6, in his fantastically circuitous way, that it had been 10 years since he and Walt had worked together (if I remember correctly).  Which... wait, is that right?  Had Walt really only been sheriff for 4 years when the show started?  Which is a single term, before Branch ran against him.  I think I’d had the impression that he’d been sheriff for longer than that.  Or is my math just super borked?  (A very real possibility.)  Who were Walt’s deputies before these three?  Branch has  probably been a deputy for a while, Vic was hired a few months before the show and it isn’t clear for Ferg but it’s implied at least a chunk longer.  So who were his deputies for the rest of those 4 years?  (Aaaaaand this is how I grow OCs.  Shit.)

She names the roadkill?  Eeeeeh...

Branch, you douchecanoe.  You are very clearly not welcome in her home anymore; the fact that she hasn’t moved the spare key isn’t a fucking invitation to break in and invade her privacy, oh my gods I hate you so much.  This is predatory behavior.  You need to either go through official channels with the department to do a wellness check or FUCK RIGHT OFF into the deepest reaches of hell.  Excellent plan, fucking off.

Henry,  I adore you beyond measure.  “Thanks-taking.”  Vic... Seriously?  “God, you people really hold a grudge.”  Somehow, I think they’re kind of entitled to, what with all of the wars, genocide, stolen land, racism, broken treaties, and the like.  Get bent.

Genuinely, Henry’s dry as anything sass is quite possibly the best thing about the whole show.  We didn’t get nearly enough of it during the later seasons.  And his little smiiiiile at having made Walt chuckle, oh my heart.

The “Hands up!”  O.o  “Hands down!” little comedy gag is totally sold by KS’s face, haaaa.  And Ferg’s bafflement, but collected response to those truckers thinking he was a rentboy was solid.

I kind of have to applaud that sex worker’s gumption to just try to take off in the truck.  Not the best thought out plan, to be sure, but gutsy.

Ok, Branch has just had a line establishing that they’re not in Absaroka, and then Vic and Ferg look annoyed/confused when Walt tells them to cut the sex workers and customers loose, but then Branch finishes with, “Absaroka County wishes you all a fine evening... at home.”  So are they in Absaroka, or not??

Kudos to Walt saying, “Which will allow you to get out of here.  If that’s what you want.”  Not falling completely into the savior complex bs is good, and acknowledging that she is an adult who can make her own decisions, even if they’re ones he would wish she wouldn’t is good.  ........If only he could extend that same courtesy to his own daughter.  

Branch, wtf.  It’s a felony to even have burglar’s tools.  Legit, it’s a felony punishable with up to 3 years in prison or up to $3k, or both.  Unlawful entry is 10 years and/or $10k, and I’m pretttttyyyyyy fucking sure you don’t have a warrant to be in Cady’s house.  FUCK OFF.  You giant douchecanoe.  (Min and I also have a headcanon that the random coloured empty frames are Branch’s fault, because they don’t really go with any of the rest of the decor, and we hate them.  So we decided that when he saw the Andy Warhol style print she had that he got those for her and she just never got around to taking them down after they broke up.)  And isn’t tampering with someone’s mail a federal offence?  You are the worst.

Aaaand then Walt calls the Collettes showing Ross Lanten’s wife video of him with prostitutes “interfering in his marriage.”  Okaaaay.  Because helping get a woman and kids out of what has several hallmarks of an abusive marriage is “interfering,” I guess.  Not the happiest about that word choice, I’m not gonna lie.

Aaaaaand then Whitish is super racist, and I hate her.  Henry handles it with grace, but fuck, I cannot imagine how wearying that must be.  And Branch makes obnoxious and offensive assumptions (playing to his strengths, natch), and Henry once again demonstrates how he is also the Actual Best.

Nobody has heard from Cady recently, but the tiny little hesitation Henry has before he confirms that he hasn’t heard from her either is so good.  LDP is so good.  Just from that, it reinforces how much that bothers him, and that he’s worried, but also that he really doesn’t want to talk to Branch about any of it.

“If you do, will you let me know?”  “I most certainly will not.”  Such a classy way to basically tell Branch to fuck off and get wrecked.  

A lady threatening Henry with a knife and I should not be focusing on how great he looks in a vest, but heeeeere we are.  (I do love that brown vest.)  And even after she is drunk and rude and racist and threatens him, Henry’s look when she says that she knew the dead man still has concern and compassion in it.  Waaaaaah.

Do I remember what Walt did to his hand?  Was that something from this episode that I’m not remembering right now, or are they actually having some intra-episode continuity and that bandage is him still recovering from the start of frostbite?  [Dang it, my Xbox controller just pooped out.  Now I have to go swap it out for the other one and stick this one in the charging dock.  But I’m so cozy in bed with my jar o’ tea and everythinggggg.  Boo.]  ...  [It has been long enough since I wrote that last bit that my Xbox has shut itself down twice in the interim.  Oops.  I’m super great at focusing.]

Fuck, that “I was some place I shouldn’ta been” hits hard.  This whole seen in rough.

Aaaahaha, why is the fact that Ferg is also standing there looking at Walt when he wakes up so much funnier than if it had just been Vic?  And his little grin.  And Ruby with a mug of his toothbrush and such for Walt!  Rubyyyyy!  (Holy shit, the fact that they have this little set up is alarmingly adorable, and I heckin’ adore Ruby.)  And then she sasses Branch, and I just want nice things for her.  

Walt’s “If you want,” to Ferg came off to me more like, ‘waste your time if you want to,’ (though that could well be my own issues projected” but I’m proud of Ferg for running with it.  And I do appreciate Walt calling the sex worker a lady.

Of course, he pulls Henry into his bs, getting him to solicit a sex worker.  Why does Henry put up with him?  I’m sorryyyy, but the pointing is so awkward and I cringe so hard, but what else is he going to do, I guess?  And how does he recognize her anyway?  Did Walt take a picture of her before letting her go, or something?  It doesn’t seem like he even got her name, to pull up a picture from a rap sheet, sooo...  Why am I even worrying about it?  And at least Walt doesn’t think that it’s not rape just if it’s a sex worker.

The flashback scene sure hits hard, too.  Damn.  I’m trying to remember the last time I saw anybody other than Vic actually pull on a glove in consideration of fingerprints.  I think there might have been one time or something, but nothing comes readily to mind.

For all that I rag on Walt for just collecting his assumptions and taking them to the bank, there is heavy irony with him now laying out the reasons he’s not arresting Whitish, because there is reasonable doubt in the form of the Collettes.  

Ooooooope, and then Branch brings up Cady.  I sure this can only go really well.  Aaaaaaaaand of course Walt has one of his Longmire Epiphanies and just walks off in the middle of the conversation, such as it was.

Does a college registrar’s really have your birth certificate on file?  I’m pretty sure I didn’t have to submit a copy to mine, but I also don’t really remember?  But that seems weird.

Ah, the bandage was about the frostbite.  I appreciate the continuity.  

Hmmmmmm, Cady leaving her phone at home when she drove to CO seems unlikely.  It seems unlikely as a generality for her generation, and on practical levels (directions to the precinct and such?), and just... That’s pretty hard to buy.  If I don’t want to talk to somebody, or even a bunch of people, I’d ignore calls or even block numbers, but her not taking her phone gives the impression that there is literally nobody that she would want to talk to, and that plays into this really weird bit of characterization void that the writers fell into of Cady just not knowing any single person other than her dad, Henry, Ruby, Branch, and Ferg, and I guess Vic.  As if she just doesn’t exist outside of her relation to one of them.  She doesn’t want to talk to any of the 6 of them, so there is not a single other person on the planet who she would want to be able to talk to/have them contact her?  There’s not a single other person on the planet that she knows who if they called and said, “I have an emergency, can you talk/help?” that she wouldn’t want to be available for?  Bullshit.  The entire rest of the series when she’s onscreen is showing how much she cares.  She’s a fucking Hufflepuff, and she’s not going to leave her damn phone at home while she drives 6 hours away into another damn state.  If you so desperately need to that she’s not even seeing his call, have her leave it in her car when she goes into the Denver station.  Like, unless she has a second phone that she did take, I’m not buying it.  Even as an attempt at “she’s so caught up in her mother’s murder now, oooo, Longmire tantrum and singular focus’ characterization.  Just, boo.

#Longmire #cady longmire #walt longmire #Henry Standing Bear #The Ferg #Branch is such a tool #episode commentary

[hawkland]

Dear Fandom5k Author

My AO3 account (sidewinder)

Hello and thank you for writing for me! I’m excited to give this exchange a try for the first time and cannot wait to read what you can come up with for one of my requests. Please note I’d love any of them equally, no matter if I have more prompt ideas for one or the other. Some I seriously would love just about anything about since they are so rare, others I have more specific requests to scratch itches I haven’t seen written before (or that much.)

General Likes:

Soumates with a twist. I love soulmate/soulbond AUs, as long as it’s just not a shortcut to happily-ever, no-conflict fluff. I want there to be some difficulties or angst involved. For instance, I’d love seeing any fusion/inspired-by fics based off the concept of the AMC Soumates series - where there’s a newly-developed scientific test a person can choose to take to find their soulmate (if the other person out there has also taken the test). That way it’s a choice to find out or not. Would an already established couple want to take the test to find out if they’re really “meant” to be together or not? What if they find out other people are their “soulmates”? What about the possibility of platonic soulmates vs romantic? Discussions for the future if/when one partner dies before the other? I’d love to see these questions played out with one of my fave ships in either a  happy or somewhat angsty/dark way.

Vacation/travel stories. Being unable to travel this past year+ thanks to covid-19 has me desperate to explore and live vicariously through my favorite characters! So I’d love a story involving travel to somewhere new (to them). It could be a romantic getaway/honeymoon trip to somewhere special - and I love it when an author “takes me” to a favorite city/place of their own. Or two friends just going on an escapade together, maybe one sensing the other needs some time away from a stressful situation or workplace.

Smutty likes: I love extended kissing scenes, frottage, light restraint play, sharing-one-bed-for-~reasons~-ooops-how-did-we-wake-up-cuddling, bathing/caretaking an injured partner-turns-erotic, desperate/reunion sex.

Canon-divergent AUs - I’m always good with fix-its, shifts in canon that only change one thing and see what happens next or instead.

Do Not Wants:

A/B/O dynamics, mating heats. (I do like Supernatural fics that explore Castiel and the angels having bird-like behaviors and instincts, however.)

animal abuse/death

anything related to pregnancy/childbirth/kidfic (except for Jack in SPN)

formalized BDSM relationships

scat/watersports

unrequested alternative-universe scenarios such as high school/mundane/genderswap/coffee shop/fantasy/etc. There are a few ships/groups where I would enjoy specific AUs, and those are outlined below.

Completely sad endings/permanent character death or injury that isn’t part of canon

Rape/non-con between requested characters. Dubious consent is fine in situations like magic spells/possession/fuck-or-die, however.

Supernatural

AU - Canon Divergence, Character Development, Established Relationship, Getting Together, Fix-it fic, Interpersonal Drama, Smut, Angst, Canon-Style Plot - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery/Procedural, Slice of Life, Worldbuilding, Horror

In general for SPN, I love canon-divergence AUs at pretty much any point in time (especially as they kept having so many dumb reasons in canon to keep Dean & Cas apart just when one or the other seriously needed support or TLC!) I’m okay with post-series Heaven fics as well as canon fix-its/completely ignoring the finale, and I like exploring both human!Cas as endgame or Cas keeping/getting his full angelic grace back (which is a slight preference to me, as he repeatedly seemed to genuinely value/want to be an angel? But exploring all possibilities in fic is cool for me.)

I’m a sucker for Castiel Whump/hurt!Cas in general, so long as the author remembers Cas is a bad ass and not just a baby in a trenchcoat. If he’s going to suffer, I want him to suffer stoically until he just cannot keep up the facade any longer.  

SPN-specific DNWs: mentions/implications of Wincest, past or present; extreme bashing/characterization of John and Mary Winchester, or Jimmy Nowak, as homophobic. 

Group: Castiel/Dean Winchester Group: Castiel/Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester

Give me all the finale fix-it fics - no I’m still not over it, I’m still happy to read any new twist on how Cas got out of the Empty and got back together with Dean (and Sam). If Dean still dies early/ends up in Heaven, I’d like a story that explores what happens when one gets bored of peace-and-happiness-ever-after. (Yes, I’m a big fan of The Good Place and as such it makes me wonder if eternity with no conflict and everything you could ever want would just melt your brain and identity after a few millennia.) So what then?

I’m also stealing a Tumblr rant as a prompt I’d love to read, if you want to get into some good dirty smut:

ive had it up to here with fictional gays being like “i love you and if all i can ever have is that knowledge it’s enough for me” we need more “i have been struck down by horny insanity and i beg you to fuck me once. i’ve had three smirnoff ices and i’m gonna be crazy now. we can pretend it didn’t happen i don’t give a shit just gimme daddy’s blunt instrument” it’s more realistic [x]

Um so yeah. I’d love an au where, anywhere along the line when it’s been their/someone’s/the universe’s life on the life, Cas takes the initiative decides they’re gonna have crazy sex even if it’s just once before the end of the world/we die. But then, oops, we’ve survived, now we have to deal with it. ...Please?

For something different, maybe more romantic/fluffy, I’d really love a vacation/getaway story here, since they never really got anything like that of substance on the show. I want to see Cas take Dean somewhere beautiful and amazing in the world he’s never gotten to see before. Show him there’s more than just greasy diners and the landscape of America to enjoy and experience. If you want, they could stumble on a case/haunting/monster from another part of the world while they’re at it...but I just really want to see Dean having some mind-opening and expanding experiences beyond what’s he’s known and seen so far in life.

In specific with Cas/Dean + Sam, I love another tumblr idea I saw recently where Sam totally keeps bringing up the idea of “Sastiel” as a fun joke between him and Cas, and Cas plays along, and it drives Dean up the wall. Cas has to just keep re-assuring Dean that no, he doesn’t see Sam that way...but why does it bother Dean so much? A.k.a. Dean has to finally own up to the fact that it bothers him because he wants Cas to feel that way about him.

Castiel (Supernatural)

I just love Cas, period, end of story, he’s my One True Character of SPN. I love any stories that try to explore him more fully—be it his relationships in the past with other angels and being a BAMF commander/warrior of Heaven, or what specifically it is that keeps him so tied to the Winchesters. I love stories that feature his true-form in some fashion or try to dig into the alien/different nature of angels vs. humans.

Also, another Tumblr-musing-turned-prompt (I lost who posted it, sorry!) I'd love to see explored in a canon divergence fic focused on Cas. Specifically: 

"I would have loved an arc for Cas (after he got his grace back) where he wanted to help people, like he was helped. Spending time in soup kitchens or healing people, and through that developing a sense of self purpose, leading to his grace replenishing unexpectedly. Sort of fulfilling the traditional angel role (as we know it nowadays) by replacing his faith in heaven/dean with faith in himself, to redefine himself as a protector of humanity instead of heaven's soldier."

Group: Castiel/Dean Winchester & Jimmy Novak Group: Castiel & Jimmy Novak

We know Cas carried a lot of guilt for what happened to Jimmy and his whole family. So I'm interested in a post-finale, canon-compliant (I guess?) fic where Cas tries to reconcile things with Jimmy in Heaven. Maybe Jimmy & Amelia were one of his first "projects" or test cases in trying to build a new and better Heaven with Jack? (And it's what he was so busy with while Dean was still alive.) Or, is it weird in Heaven with Cas and Jimmy looking so similar? Does Cas still fight doubts as to whether Dean really loves him, or just desires this body/form that isn’t his own?

Otherwise, I've been thinking about Endverse!Cas, who had lost his grace/powers as the angels have all left and abandoned humankind. What happened to/where is Jimmy in all of that? (If we go by the canon that Jimmy was not killed, nor went to Heaven, until the end of Season 5, when Lucifer blew up that vessel and Cas was resurrected by Chuck.) Are they now two "mortal men"/souls trapped sharing one body? Is that why Cas is so messed up/always seeking an escape through drugs and sex? (Besides of course Dean having changed so much.) This is one prompt where I don’t mind a very dark/not-so-happily-ever-after ending.

The Police

Angst, Character Development, Established Relationship, Getting Together, Humor, Interpersonal Drama, Smut

Group: Sting/Stewart Copeland

Yeah I’ll always request these two together even though I know it’s a long shot to find anyone else as obsessed about them as I am. Really anything at all whatsoever would make me happy for this ship: Reunion Tour-era fic, early punk days before they grew successful, soulmate AUs...

I’d also love a spooky story where they’re on tour/on the road somewhere and end up in a haunted hotel. Or their tour bus/van breaks down in the middle of nowhere and they have to seek shelter in an abandoned house or farm or something...and supernatural weirdness ends up affecting them or bringing them together.

If you want to go the crack route: it wasn’t enough for Miles to take them all around the world to tour in “exotic” locations back in the day. He’s arranged for them now to go on the ultimate tour...of outer space and alien worlds.

Crossover Fandom

Action/Adventure, Character Development, Interpersonal Drama, Angst, Canon-Style Plot - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery/Procedural

Group: Abe Morgan (Forever TV) & John Munch (L&O: SVU)

I’ve had a long running headcanon that these two could have been friends back in their respective 60s/early 70s hippie days. I’d love either a story set back then, “pre-canon”, or them running into each other in NYC later in life. Munch ending up in Abe’s antique shop, for instance, while on an investigation?  

Group: Dean Winchester (Supernatural) & Ezekiel Stone (Brimstone) Group: Castiel (Supernatural) & Ezekiel Stone (Brimstone)

I’m fascinated by the idea of crossing over these two canons. Even if there’s some conflict in their approach to Hell/Lucifer/demons, there’s still a lot in common. Dean & Ezekiel having both put in their time in Hell and being demon hunters, for instance, and their complicated relationships with (fallen) angels. I’d love to see them bonding over their experiences (Maybe they even meet in Hell? Time DOES work differently there…) Maybe somehow after Ezekiel completed his mission for the Devil, he did get his second chance at “life on Earth”…but the devil’s trick is that it’s not HIS Earth, it’s in a different dimension (Supernatural’s). I’m also curious how Ezekiel might respond to Castiel as an angel–perhaps he mistakes Cas for a demon at first, with his powers, but then they realize they are in fact hunting the same demon? Cas is stuck in an alternative dimension and recognizes Ezekiel as a similar soul to Dean’s, and seeks out his help?

Basically I’d love some kind of casefic/demon hunt here, with the characters bonding over their shared/similar past traumas, taking care of each other when/if injured on a hunt, and/or perhaps helping them sort out their complicated feelings for another (ie, background Cas/Dean and/or Zeke/the Devil are TOTALLY welcome here, as I ship both of those ships.)

Law & Order: SVU

Group: John Munch/Odafin "Fin" Tutuola

Character Development, Established Relationship, Humor, Getting Together, Interpersonal Drama, Canon-Style Plot - Freeform, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery/Procedural, Slice of Life, AU-Genre shift

Munch/Fin is one of my eternal OTPs so I’m always happy to see something new featuring them! I’m always good for procedural/case-fics. And this is one request where I’d love to read some AU-Genre or setting shift, reimagining the two in some other situations besides police work. I’ve always loved the idea of John hosting a conspiracy/weird news radio show or podcast, and Fin as someone completely skeptical but who gets wrapped up in one of John’s mysteries. Or John as the owner of a bar somewhere that Fin is one of his regulars, and over time their friendship develops/deepens into something more.

Supernatural RPF

Misha Collins/Jensen Ackles Established Relationship, Getting Together, Smut, Fluff, Slice of Life, Humor

It’s odd for me to be into an actor RPF fandom (I usually only fall for music/band-related ones), but what can I say...these two just make it almost impossible not to see the possibilities!

I was thinking I’d love something set post-Supernatural...their first time seeing each other again after a long time apart? (What with the show ending, covid, Misha’s surgery, etc etc.) Could be at a convention or maybe they get to go off on a getaway together somewhere private/romantic and it’s...kind of tense and maybe nervous/angsty at first? Like with doubts about whether they can/should go back to the way things were before.

Or: putting tin-hatty speculation about the “secret/real identity” of Alma Perpetua aside, I love their poetry and I’d love any “Cockles” fic using one of their poems as inspiration.

#fandom5k #dear author #exchange letter

[discyours]

Are you still back with your bf? How are you making it work again despite your lack of attraction to him? Im in a similar situation in that I mostly (only? Idk) like females but really dont want to be harmed by homophobia so i want to get a bf and your story kinda inspired me to really try to make it work. I used to think there was no way i could do it but you are very inspirational ❤

I really hope this is bait but I'm gonna answer it as if it isn't just in case.

Anon, please look up domestic violence statistics per sexual orientation. Bisexual women are at a higher risk of being victimised than lesbians or straight women, and it's not because of female partners. 89.5% Of victimised bisexual women only report male perpetrators, and nearly third of lesbians (who are at slightly increased risk compared to straight women) who have experienced intimate partner violence report at least one male perpetrator. At risk of sounding like I'm erasing the privilege that comes with being attracted to (or even just partnered with) the opposite sex, these statistics clearly show that dating a man does not mean you get to leave homophobia behind. I wouldn't get dirty looks walking around with him but when compared to being single, dating a man puts you at a higher risk of experiencing violent homophobia. This does show my privilege in not having an overtly homophobic family (nobody bugs me about needing to "find a man") but personally, the only homophobia this relationship is currently allowing me to escape (again, compared to being single) is my own.

I get to tell myself that I'm straightish. That's about it, and it falls apart pretty often when I'm confronted with how limited my attraction really is. And that's a confrontation that's hard to avoid when you're trying to make a relationship work.

Before I say anything else I want to ask you to consider that my sexuality is simply different than yours. I don't call myself bisexual for shits and giggles - I do truly believe that I am attracted to men on some level. It's not enough to cancel out finding them ugly, but relating to that doesn't mean our sexuality is the same. I can think men are ugly and still have a much bigger ability to tolerate them, still feel much more drawn to them despite it. Sexuality is way too nuanced to be able to reliably assume that yours works the same way as someone else's, even if it seems similar.

As for how I'm making it work; it's not a normal relationship. It's long distance and I've never met him in person. It's been 1.5 years (granted, very on and off at the start) and neither of us is in love. Being long distance, there's a lot of things I get to avoid. The idea of him smelling like a man irks me, but he could smell like literal dog shit and it still wouldn't be my problem for now. I don't have to deal with feeling rough skin or beard stubble. It's incredibly rare for me to even hear his voice, which would no doubt be more uncomfortable in person than it is through headphones. Whatever the long distance version of being sexually active is doesn't require me ever to even see his dick, let alone anything more. I very much hope I can still make things work IRL, but realistically there's a far from insignificant chance that I just won't be able to. And he knows that. I've had several relationships with men, all long distance, and I pretty much swore them off because I know that even all of this is not enough to avoid hurting feelings. My current bf is uniquely capable of not being even slightly hurt or offended when my lack of attraction shows, whether it's through involuntarily pulling a grossed out face when I see him sometimes or genuinely crying about how gross I think his body is. We're in the same boat when it comes to wanting to love but not being able to, so that doesn't offend him either. This didn't apply to most of the relationships I've had (which led to lying and feeling extremely broken) and it won't apply with the vast majority of people who insist these things won't bother them. They may think it won't, but it will. I honestly think it's unfair to subject someone to that when they could be dating someone who's with them out of genuine love and attraction.

All in all I understand the desire to seek out a heterosexual relationship, but it genuinely just isn't a good idea. It's gonna put you at risk of violence (very much including homophobic violence), it's gonna confront you with your sexuality and likely make you feel broken, and it's extremely likely to hurt whoever you're with. If you're unable to cope with homophobia, please just stay single while you work through those feelings.

#anon #*that last sentence implies not wanting to be targeted by homophobia is based on feelings rather than physical safety #which I'm aware is a privileged view #I didn't want to not add it and imply that staying single forever is the default best option compared to learning how to cope w/ homophobia #but to be clear even if you're in a situation where being in a same sex relationship puts you in genuine significant danger #I don't think it should be assumed that getting into an opposite sex relationship is better than staying single