#//it's sunday and i'm struggling to sleep let me have this

[insertpinkchiphere]

//Lambda's the kind of guy that gets embarrassed by something that turns him on.

[stave-writes]

Sunday Oak x GN!Reader

Headcanons

A/N: I am SICK!!! of people making Sunday out to be an asshole who would cut you off from everything and everyone just to be selfish, especially if it makes you depressed. Sunday has more love in his heart for everyone and would let you break his heart just to see your smile, this man is sweeter than sugar. Sunday defender #1 is me fight me in my asks I'll win I've been a Zane MyStreet defender before he was popular  💯 💯 💯 💯 💯

Sunday is a gentle lover, he's always been delicate with you. Ghosting touches over the back of your hand, kisses like the brush of a feather on skin and smiles so soft it's hard to even see them when he locks eyes with you across a room. He's besotted with you, no matter what you do. The worst pain you could ever cause him is your suffering, and refusing to let him ease it for you. Hearing you cry makes his heart ache more than any of his own suffering, and he'll do anything he can to soothe you when you're struggling. Sunday sometimes finds it hard to understand what you want or need, being raised in such a way his own needs come second, so when you insist on looking after him...it's odd. He's never been his own first priority before, and it scares him a little. What if he desires too much? What if he's an issue for you? He loves you too much to risk causing you any amount of strife, so you have to beg him to be a burden. Beg him to be selfish. When Sunday is allowed to be selfish, it's cute. He'll plead with you to curl up in bed with him and sleep "Just a little longer, my love?" with those golden eyes of his shining in the early morning light. One arm will lay over you as he presses his face against your neck or back, unable to keep himself from chuckling due to just how lucky he feels having you right here in his arms. He couldn't ask for more of a blessing in love than to be able to behold you in all your glory (even if said glory is when you're drooling in your sleep or snoring so loud you could wake the dead). One of his "guilty" pleasures (damn catholic angel) is having you fussing over his piercings. He feels almost special when you toy with the little gold studs in his ear or the long dangling ornaments he likes to decorate his wings with. Sometimes he'll even ask you to pick which ones he should wear for the day and buy you something to match. If you don't wear jewellery, it'll be something like a matching set of shirt cuffs or a little keychain to match him. Anything he can do to spoil you just a bit. I'm a clipped-wing Sunday truther and so when he finally feels vulnerable enough, the priest-like coat is off and his clipped wing is shown to you, slightly mangled and clearly still sore and sensitive when you try to brush your fingers along it. You can see the twinge of shame and embarrassment run through him as you regard his incomplete self, the self left destroyed by the Dreammaster. Yet, if you tell him you still find him beautiful? He'll smile. He'll wrap you tight in his arms and cry into your shoulder, so relieved you aren't disgusted by him. That he isn't broken or unlovable, he's just...yours. Being able to read your thoughts means Sunday likes to tease you very lovingly when you're comfortable, he'll reiterate what you just thought out loud, or even listen to what you're thinking before buying you the exact thing you wanted and if you ask, he'll jokingly mention "Oh, a little birdie thought you'd like it." Before grinning and turning away, one arm settled on your waist or shoulder as he enjoyed your warmth.

[leashybebes]

Congrats on the increased follower count, you deserve it after exes detriments (sorry, I can’t remember the official name) but here’s a prompt for you:

Buck and Tommy struggle to find time in their schedules to see each other

aww, thank you so much! 💛💛 and thanks for the prompt!

Buck knows he should be getting some rest. But if he has to lie sleepless in his bunk and listen to Chim snore much longer, he's going to do something drastic. He creeps out of the bunk room, shoots off a text, and makes his way up to the roof. He's barely sat down by the time his phone rings.

"Hi," he says, and he feels breathless and eager all over again. Still.

"Did you seriously just 'u up?' me, Evan? Aren't you at work?"

"Hey, it was a sincere question. You can tell by the lack of the eggplant emoji."

"You're ridiculous."

"Yeah," Buck agrees easily. "I miss you. And your eggplant."

"Evan!" Tommy's so good at sounding scandalized and delighted all at once and Buck grins.

"What are you doing after your shift on Tuesday?"

"Errands, then therapy, then sleep."

"Gotcha. I'm working Wednesday."

"Me too. Thursday?" Tommy suggests.

"Looking after Jee," Buck says, and while he's never going to regret time spent with his niece, this is starting to get ridiculous. "They should be picking her up by eight?"

"Drinks with the team at nine," Tommy says, and he does sound regretful, but part of Tommy working on himself is trying to let himself have more meaningful connections, both in quantity and depth, so Buck's not about to try talking him out of that. "And you're working Friday."

"Yeah. And you have that private flying lesson Saturday, right?"

"Yeah. Should be done mid afternoon if that's any good?"

Buck rubs his hand over his face. "Video call with Eddie and Chris at four, and then I'm supposed to be going for dinner at Maddie's."

"Ah."

"I could come over after?"

"I'd need to leave before seven for my Sunday shift."

"Honestly, at this point, I'll take it."

"Evan."

Buck sighs. "I know, I know."

They're dating now, is the thing. Not going on a couple of dates and then weaving their lives together without discussing it until it blows up in their faces. Actually dating.

"I could - I could tell them. You could come with me."

There's a long, heavy silence.

"I don't think I'm ready for that."

Because they're also keeping it to themselves for now. They both want to see where it goes without any outside influence, to see what it is they settle into when it's just them. It's honestly - it's kind of fun, having this little secret to themselves, going further afield than they usually would for dates, trying new places and new things. But it can't go on forever, and although he's only referred to it jokingly, Buck knows Tommy's worried what people will think - that he screwed up too bad, that they'll hate him, that they'll tell Buck he's an idiot to give him a second chance. Buck's pretty sure that's not on the cards - Maddie might go a little overprotective big sister with a side of pregnancy hormones, but he thinks that'll be it. And that's nothing they can't handle.

"Hey," he says. "Can we talk about this sometime? Check in, see where we're at?"

"Yeah," Tommy promises. "Of course."

"Okay. Monday, then?"

"Monday," Tommy agrees. "My neighbour's been raving about this seafood restaurant in Santa Barbara if you're up for a bit of a drive?"

"Sounds good. Monday's so far away, though," Buck laments.

"I can hear the pout from here, Evan," Tommy teases.

"Well," Buck says, letting his voice drop deliberately into a tone that never fails to make Tommy a bit wild. "You'll just have to buy me a nice meal and kiss it better, huh?"

"God, Evan - "

"I'm off Tuesday too. Maybe we find a nice little bed and breakfast and make a night of it? I can show you just how you how much I've missed - "

He hears the door open behind him and his mouth snaps shut. "Gotta go. Call you later."

Tommy lets out a huff of laughter. "Bye, Evan. Be safe."

"You too," Buck says, as Bobby drops into the chair next to his.

"Hey, Cap."

"Couldn't sleep?"

"With Chim sawing logs one bunk over? I'm amazed anybody can."

"You don't normally struggle."

Buck shrugs, tries not to meet Bobby's eye. Everyone used to tease him about his Tommy-face, his Tommy-voice, his Tommy-pout, and for all they're taking it slow - and they are - Buck knows he's right back there. If Eddie wasn't in Texas, he's pretty sure their secret would have lasted a week, and Bobby's the next best thing when it comes to reading Buck with a glance.

"You doing okay?" Bobby asks.

"Yep! Real good."

"Hm. Apropos of nothing at all, Kaur from B shift is looking for cover. You interested in Friday off in exchange for a six to six Saturday?"

"Yes! I mean. Yeah, I can do that."

Bobby shoots him an amused look. "Okay, then. Happy for you, kid."

Buck grins up at the dark sky. He can push his call with Chris and Eddie a little later, and still make it on time for dinner with Maddie and Chim.

"You coming back inside?"

"In a minute," Buck says. "Just gotta make a call."

"Uh-huh. Tell him hi from me if you like," Bobby offers, patting Buck's shoulder as he goes.

[mbsneur]

Loud Love Rush

Ona Batlle x Reader

Hi everyone, i finished the ona fanfic and to be honest i am not very happy with it i would love to hear your opinion on it thanks! :)

Summary: ona and you celebrate your anniversary

WC: 2,5k

Warnings: Smut18+ minors DNI, Top!reader, Cunnilingus, strap using- Ona receiving

My Masterlist

When you wake up on a Sunday morning, you hear the birds chirping. The still cool morning air is spread around the room. The window is wide open. You turn to the side and feel with your hand on an empty bed where your girlfriend always lies. It's your anniversary. You've been together for a year, but not many know about it. You didn't want to announce it.

You rub your eyes and look for your shirt on the floor You pull it over your head and you are about to leave your shared bedroom When you open the door, the whole hallway smells of pancakes You know ona likes to cook and bake, but all you can think about is how to celebrate your anniversary

You walk into the kitchen and there she is, cute little Ona with her typical bun, wearing one of your shirts and a pair of FC Barcelona shorts, turning around she greets you with a big smile, "Good morning Cariño, did you sleep well? she aks and turns back do her, pancakes you walk over to her and give her a big hug she sighs slightly at your touch and falls backwards "mhm happy anniversary baby" you say and kiss her on the neck you can smell she has been in the shower her coconut shower gel covers all her

"I hope you're hungry," she says in her sweet voice and turns in your arms to kiss you on the lips, your hands still resting on her hips, "Mm, I'm hungry," you say playfully and wiggle your eyebrows, Ona laughs softly at you and puts a hand on your cheek, "is that so," she says softly and starts to kiss you again.

You deepen the kiss and try to take control, your kisses becoming wetter and more intense as ona sighed with pleasure into your mouth.

you reach for her arse and ona squeals slightly, "turn off the cooker", you say breathlessly into her mouth and ona's hand moves back to the buttons. You take the opportunity to nibble on her defined jaw line, which makes her breathe a sigh of relief she tucks her head into your neck to give you more space. You suck on her pulse point which you know, will make her melt

You turn her around and lead her to the table, your hands moving from her arse to her thighs, lifting her slightly and sitting her on the table, "Tell me what to do," you say after you have stopped kissing Ona‘s neck, words were coiled at her throat as she looked at you, "I-I want your fingers," she tries to stutter out, a small smile spreading across your lips, "see how good you are, you just have to ask and you get what you want.“

You pull her back towards you as you slide your fingers into her shorts, causing Ona to start slightly, you push her underwear aside with your index finger and slide a finger through her folds, her back arching slightly against you as she lets out a deep sigh.

you enjoy every sound she makes, you start to work on her neck again, you bite a little harder this time. Making her cry out, you soothe the affected area with your tongue and smile against her skin. Ona's hands are wrapped tightly around your neck as you look up hazel eyes meet the your eyes "what do you want to do now baby?" you ask her frowning "inside please" she says in a soft voice

You do as she asks and put your finger into her. She moans and grabs you tighter. You lay your head against her and pull her towards you for a kiss. Your lips touch and she puts her tongue in your mouth. You push your finger into her a little more and with each movement your hand presses against her clitoris, making her hips move.

Ona stops kissing you and instead plants small kisses on your nose and cheeks, her soft lips filling you so much she struggles to kiss you "I need more" she says against your cheek and tries to slide her lower body closer to you "Do you think you deserve it?" you ask teasingly and Ona's eyes glaze over "I'm your good girl, I think I deserve it," she says confidently and a second finger teases her entrance "Ask nicely," you say with a shaky breath and pull Ona towards you for another kiss.

ona starts to get impatient and desperately pushes away from you, "please fuck me with two fingers" she begs and your second finger finally dives deep into ona's folds. Ona moans slightly and you catch her again to kiss her she returns your kiss and hugs you tighter your kisses become more irregular because ona moans into your mouth "shit, just like that, right there," she whispers moaning and you hit her sweet spot she lets go of your neck and leans back on the table her head back and her veins pop out on her arms her veins are always there but when you fuck her they become more obvious

Ona grunts and her body shakes with every thrust. The table hits the wall with every thrust. You feel Ona's walls tighten around your fingers, and her moans become more irregular. Her chest sinks and rises faster. She briefly meets your eyes and asks, "Can I cum? please.“ she demands, moaning. You nod, and she lets out a deep moan, her arms bending further down her body as she tenses up and comes tensely and silently over your fingers.

You continue to pleasure her, allowing her to gradually come down from her orgasmic high. You continue until she gently pushes your fingers away from her. She is still sitting bent on the table, her breathing slowly becoming regular. You pull her back to you by her arms. Her face is flushed , and her eyes are a little puzzled. She smiles at you. "Hey, are you okay?" you ask, your voice soft and caring. "Yes, I think for the next round you have to carry me to bed because I can't feel my legs anymore," she says, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she laughs.

you smile at her words your face becomes soft "hey oni i want you to be well and to be the happiest woman" you say and ona pulls you in and kisses you on the cheek "you are more than enough i am happy when you are with me" she says giving you a kiss on the lips which you quickly deepen your fingers rest on ona's thighs and lift them slightly ona laughs against your lips as you carry her to bed

As you gently lay her on the bed you carefully undress her "Oh no underwear" you ask in surprise as you remove her shirt, she turns her head away in embarrassment "I thought I didn't need underwear on a Sunday" she says embarrassed and you smile and take her face in your hands to turn her back to you.

"I like you best naked anyway," you tell her and Oona's face turns blood red, "Shall we take off the rest of your clothes?" you ask, raising your eyebrow.

you pull her shorts completely off and throw them somewhere in the room your mouth lands on her hard nipples she sighs softly and pushes her back up

you suck on her nipples and spread hickeys ona whimpers like a little deer underneath you and begs desperately for more your mouth moves down before you reach her belly button you sit up grab ona by her ankles and pull her jerkily between your legs

You go down immediately and your mouth lands right in the middle of her pussy, she squirms underneath you but you grab her thighs and pull her closer to your face, her hands get caught in your hair, "Stop touching me," you say firmly, letting go of her for a moment, "Babe..."

"No, put your hands somewhere else," you say more sharply this time.

Oona lets her head fall to the bed and sighs reluctantly, her hands clutching the sheets and her bud hanging tightly between your lips again.

You suck gently before plunging your tongue into her. Every move you make makes her tremble beneath you, she is still sensitive from her previous orgasm and writhes around accordingly.

you hold her in place and her whimpers quickly turn into moans her moans are music to your ears you want more "i want to hear you baby" you say against her pussy and ona's eyes roll into the back of her head with pleasure

All you could get out of her were little moans, "ah fuck you feel so good baby" she moans and you use that as an incentive you love how you can make her cum with just your tongue.

Her legs are wrapped around your head, her back is bent, her legs are tensed tightly, you have trouble keeping them apart, ona is a complete mess.

your eyes look up, all you see is a moaning, curved one "i am so close - fuck - so fucking close" she tries to get out and her eyes meet yours she looks for approval which you give her immediately

her pussy tightens around your tongue as her moans get louder and her whole body tenses up she tries to pull away but your tongue stays in place "i'm gonna cum again fuck-" she adds quickly and she comes on your tongue again this time you let go and her body falls apart weakly her legs are still shaking

"Do you think you can take my strap?" you say as you move away from her and stand up "mhm" she says "tell me how you feel" you ask a little more affectionately this time "fucked but I feel so good" she says and you smile slightly "can you take it?" you ask again hoping for a real answer "yes please" you laugh again and go to a drawer to get Onas favorite strap.

ona is lying on the bed like a pile of misery you love the sight you love the sight of ona being completely destroyed by you

Your strap buckles around your hips as Ona looks up at you sweetly "Spread your legs I want to see you, baby" you say placing both hands on her knees as she spreads her legs open her inner thighs are covered in your spit and her juices you moan slightly at the sight before you spread soft kisses on her knee.

Her legs take a lot of strength and are often weakened by playing soccer, but you love her delicate legs every time you touch them or rest your head on them (or between them).

you open her legs wider and place the strap in front of her entrance she twitches slightly at your touch and you pushes the strap in to her hole she grunts loudly at the feeling of complete fullness

Your hips move slowly back and forth Onas hands are still relaxed on the sheets "I need more please" she begs and you bend down to her for support your hands cupping her neck and you begin to thrust into her at a relentless pace.

"Wrap your legs around my waist," you commanded and Oona immediately did as you told her, her legs tightly wrapped around your hips as you thrust faster into her, Oona started to whimper and tried to hold back, "That sound... keep making it.. louder baby," you said slightly out of breath as the strap hit the perfect spots on your clit.

Onas’s wimpher get louder and louder and turn into moans "God you feel so fucking good," she moans and her body bobs up and down "Do you feel good with my cock deep inside you," you say and Onas head bends backwards, her back arching against your hips, and with each stroke the naked hips slap together "Yes baby feels so good," you smile softly "So full like a good slut you take me so well," you say and Ona‘s hands press harder into the paints.

"touch yourself for me come on" you say moaning slightly and ona's hand finds its way to her swollen clit "fuck I can't hold on much longer" she moans loudly and turns tight circles on her clit you push deeper into her and her walls squeeze around your strap her breathing slows "I'm close" ona warns "no I want to hear you beg" you say grunting and ona looks at you with her sweetest eyes

"please baby i have to cum"

Ona's cries grow louder and her free hand scratches into your sheets, "Baby! please I beg you please let me cum I need it so much," she says louder this time.

"That's what I expected, come for me my pretty girl," you say and after a few more thrusts Ona comes and makes a huge mess, when you were sure that Oona had come down you gently remove your strap and lie down next to her.

Ona turns to you "Do you want to eat pancakes now?" she asks with a grin and kisses the path from your shoulder blade to your cheek "After a shower?" you ask quietly and Ona nods at you.

[skyahri]

Remember Part Four |SatoSugu X Reader| HC Series

Part Three Masterlist Ko-fi

A/N: Y'all, I'm so sorry it's so late. My mind has been buzzing in a different direction.

- - - - -

"Pretty please with a cherry on top?"

"Satoru..."

He'd been begging to join you on your unofficial outing for the better part of an hour. He'd been following you around, making empty promises to behave and offering you random things in return if you'd just allow him to accompany you. But you knew better, and after nearly thirteen years of knowing the man, it was safe to assume he'd only cause a headache.

"I'm serious. Let me go with you. You don't have to do everything by yourself, you know."

"Satoru..."

Your patience is wearing thin at this point. There's a silent warning that follows the hiss of his name, but he ignores it all the same.

"Just let us in. Let us help."

"You don't know what you're asking."

"I know it has something to do with Suguru."

You froze, staring blankly in front of you for only a moment before turning around to face him. His expression was hard, something that you've seen many times over the years, but never one you'd expect from pre-tragedy Gojo- someone still high on the spoils of his upbringing and blind to the heartache of the real world.

He'd said it with all the confidence in the world, like it was a fact and not some half-assed conclusion he (and presumably Geto, too) had come to. Your lack of response and obvious shock must have been all the confirmation he needed- to say everything that's been on his mind since that encounter in the bathroom two weeks ago. To hell with Suguru's endless warnings about coming on too strong. He was tired of waiting for you to come around.

"You're struggling..." his voice was uncharacteristically soft, like he was worried he'd spook you, "You don't sleep. You skip meals. You disappear without so much as a goodbye. We know you're doing all of this for the greater good, or whatever, but it's hard watching you kill yourself in the process. I just want to take some of the weight off of you, but you won't let me."

You can only stare up at him. He'd tipped his glasses down to the tip of his nose, allowing you to look into his pretty blue eyes. (That asshole knows your weaknesses). It's easy to get a read on him, the seriousness of his words reflecting perfectly on his face. But even if he does mean it, you can't bring yourself to drag him into your never-ending pit of hopelessness.

"I appreciate it, Satoru, but I can't take that kind of risk. This could very well be my only shot and I can't risk losing him just because I can't handle a little pressure-"

"It's not a little pressure and we both know it."

"You just don't understand-"

"Then make me understand!"

"He leaves, Satoru!"

Maybe he's more in tune with your brain than you are, or maybe he just knows all the right buttons to push, because the stress simmering in your mind seems to bubble over in that moment. You inhale sharply and let it all out.

"Things happen, terrible things, and it changes him, and he just... leaves. I can't tell you because I can't risk fucking up our only chance to save him. I just-" a heavy sob breaks through your sentence, but it doesn't deter you, "I love you and you love me, but we love him. We need him, Satoru, and he isn't around. We're not the same. We're sad and empty and it's lonely."

It spills out like word vomit. You can't control what you're saying and you can barely process the actual syllables, but you don't stop.

"I can't spend another decade wearing his shirts that you've spritzed with his cologne and wishing he were there. I can't spend another Sunday looking at the extra chair we keep at the dining table just in case he comes back. I avoid your nightstand because I know you keep a ring in there for him. You and I still text in the group chat even though he's been inactive since that night!"

Satoru is quiet for once in his life. He's been completely stunned into silence, not daring to interrupt your ranting. Your eerily calm pleading turned into shouting at some point and he's grateful for the privacy of an empty school on a particularly busy day.

He hates the tears in your eyes, even more so when they start to drip down your flushed cheeks. He wishes that he had better listened to all of Suguru's annoying lectures about sympathy and empathy (or whatever it's called) because he's grossly ill-prepared for this conversation.

He settles on pulling you into a hug, because while words aren't his strong suit, actions certainly are. He lets you cry into his chest without complaint. You grip the fabric of his school-issued white button-up and let go of all the pent-up grief from the past twelve years.

"So,"

He waits for you to become slightly more composed.

"What are we gonna do about it?"

You chuckle at how unapologetically comfortable he is with himself. You don't remove yourself from his embrace, choosing instead to hide the incoming tension.

"We stop him."

"From?"

"A year and a half from now, Suguru goes on a solo mission to a small village, where he will kill a hundred and twelve villagers. He takes over a cult, whose new goal is to kill all non-sorcerers in an attempt to end curses forever."

Satoru swallow hard. Honestly, what the hell was he supposed to say to that?

"... seriously?"

Well, apparently not that.

You push off of him and punch him square in the chest. It's playful, kind of, lightening the atmosphere a bit.

"Okay, okay. I just mean, like, if Suguru were to switch sides, that's definitely the prerogative he'd take. So, what now?"

- - - - -

You sat across from him on the city bus to your destination, an envelope in his hands.

"This is it?"

There are three newspaper clippings inside. Obituaries, spaced years apart, and non-specific. Names, dates, and kind words, but nothing more.

"Yeah... that's it."

Satoru slumps back in his seat, his blue and white kimono fanning out across the seat. He sighs and slides further down, pouting like a child who didn't get his way.

"Why not wait until we have more information, then? Seems like a waste to me."

"They host a harvest festival twice a year to bring in money, but other than that, it's pretty closed off. This is the only time I can gather information without raising suspicion."

"What are we looking for?"

"Suguru spares two little girls. I only met them once and I didn't have the opportunity to ever ask him about it, so my knowledge is limited. I know they're sorcerers and that they adored Suguru, but nothing else. I was hoping to check out their home situation, if possible. The request the elders send in is very... hostile to say the least, so I was wondering if there was some build-up to the event."

"You think maybe they're being mistreated? Suguru would definitely snap over something like that."

"I think that something happened right around the time the girls would've acquired their cursed techniques. Villages like this tend to be irrationally superstitious. Three unexplained deaths and two girls who can see monsters probably won't go over very well."

Satoru let his head fall onto the window with a loud thunk. His brain was starting to hurt. Is this really what you're up to when you sneak off? Coming up with an elaborate hypothesis based on nothing but (only possibly relevent) future knowledge and guesswork? He'd only been on the case for two hours and he was already drained.

"So what are we gonna do?"

"Depends. I brought some talismans to hide around the area at the very least. If we see anything concrete, we'll return to the school and submit an official request to Yaga."

"I don't understand why we're sneaking around. Isn't future vision a good enough reason to investigate?"

"I'd like to keep this whole thing away from the elders if possible. Yaga and I have an understanding of sorts, but the geezers aren't as amicable."

You knew Satoru could at least understand that much. While he doesn't have the extensive experience you have with them yet, he's still vividly aware of just how scrutinizing they can be.

You can see the restlessness settle onto his face. He hates the back road way of things, preferring to charge in head first and think about consequences later- a big reason (among many) that you didn't initially plan to key him into any of this.

"We can't just, I don't know, ask Suguru to chill out or something?"

You lean over him and flick his forehead. He flinches back and starts to complain, but is cut off by the screeching of the bus's brakes.

The two of you exit the vehicle and make your way down the dirt path that leads to the village. You expected to feel something, anything really, but even once you're past the torii there's nothing. No cursed energy, residuals, or any sign of abnormality.

Satoru must not see anything either, because his brows are pulled together and there's a slight frown on his face.

Even without seeing anything off about the place, it's still weird. The only time you've ever been here before was directly after the massacre. Now, not only are all of the villagers alive, but the whole area is bustling with tourists.

You only have a moment to glance over the sea of people before Satoru is pulling you over towards the food stands. He heads straight for the Takoyaki stand and stuffs a handful of yen into the vendor's hand. He practically shoves one of the trays in your face and takes one for himself before pulling you off again.

"Satoru, stop! What are you doing? We aren't here to dick around!"

Two minutes. It's only been two minutes and yet he's already lost sight of the goalpost.

He doesn't show any signs that he's heard you, instead opting to maneuver through people until you're parked next to a giant oak tree on a small hill. He drops the wrist he had taken and turns around. He's wearing that shit-eating grin, the one that clearly says he's up to no good and doesn't feel all that sorry about it.

"We can do both. Enjoy the sights, eat some food, grab some fresh produce, and gather information. Consider it a win-win situation."

"This is exactly why I didn't want you to come. You never take anything seriously."

"I'm perfectly capable of doing two things at once, princess. Besides-"

He grabs your tray and sets both down on the ground. He turns you around rather aggressively and pushes on your shoulders until you're both sat on the grass, his long legs awkwardlybent on either side of you. He leans forward so his head is over your shoulder and his hands slide down to rest on your elbows.

"Look."

You're rolling your eyes at his not-so-subtle flirting, about to lecture him, but then you see it- two little girls, a blonde and a brunette.

They're with two people who you can only assume are their parents. They seem fine. Happy. Healthy. Smiles on their face, sweet pastries in their hands, and powdered sugar on their cheeks.

You glance around from your elevated space and notice that everyone you can confidently assume belongs to this village looks fine. Vendors are laughing with their customers and farmers are helping kids pick berries off the remaining bushes.

"I don't understand..."

"It's just too early to intervene. We'll come back in the summer and go from there, okay?"

You relax your body and lean back into him.

"Yeah, okay."

"Good. Now,

He hands you the tray kindly this time and leans back just enough so he can enjoy his own while still invading your personal space.

"How about we eat our Takoyaki, browse around a bit, hang up some talismans, and then head back home? Suguru should be back tonight."

He'd successfully worn you down. You couldn't argue with him even if you wanted to. He'd gone with you to the (apparently useless) event, found exactly what you were looking for, and solidified that nothing could be done quite yet.

So what else is there to do besides having to his demands?

"... alright."

Nothing.

He smiled at you.

"Good girl."

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[thedensworld]

Piece of Origami | K.Mg

Pairing: Husband Mingyu! x reader

Genre: humor, fluff, established relationship

Words count: 1,1k

Summary: you have no idea that you're this untalented in making a paper fold—origami until your kid ask you to make one

You struggled to grasp the situation as the sensation of shaking pulled you from the depths of Sunday morning slumber. The room felt like it was caught in an earthquake, only to discover it was the lively jumps of your 5-year-old son, Han, on the other side of the bed. A smile played on your lips as the realization dawned that he was the culprit behind the early morning disturbance.

"Rise and shine, mummy!" echoed Han's cheerful voice as he darted towards the window, flooding the room with the morning light. His infectious enthusiasm seemed to infuse the room with energy, and you couldn't help but reciprocate the joy.

Exposed to the gentle rays of sunshine, you became aware that your husband, Kim Mingyu, had already embarked on his Sunday routine. The absence of his presence in the bedroom hinted at an early start, likely immersing himself in a workout session in the home gym before diligently preparing breakfast for the family.

As you navigated the transition from sleep to wakefulness, the orchestrated chaos of your family's morning routine unfolded around you. Han's vibrant energy, the warmth of the sun, and the quiet absence of your husband painted a vivid picture of a Sunday morning in your household.

You extended your arms, inviting Han into a morning embrace, and he eagerly jumped into your hug, expressing, "How could you be so pretty even in the morning, mummy?" His charming compliment elicited a chuckle, a trait undoubtedly inherited from his father.

As you held Han close, you inquired about his morning and the quality of his sleep. He nodded in affirmation before sitting up, ready to share a dream he had during the night – a dream of crafting a plane and a ship for you and Mingyu.

"Can we make them with my origami paper before breakfast?" Han asked with enthusiasm, and your immediate nod signaled agreement. "Of course, baby. Let's go," you replied, gently tapping his thigh before intertwining your fingers and guiding him out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen.

The rhythmic sounds of a knife meeting the chopping board filled the air, and you caught a glimpse of your husband, Mingyu, skillfully preparing breakfast with a focus on chopping vegetables. His gaze shifted to you and Han, a warm smile gracing his lips.

"Mission success, Han?" Mingyu inquired, and Han responded with an enthusiastic nod before darting off to his room. A giggle escaped you as you approached Mingyu, standing beside him and observing as he began heating water for soup. Mingyu's cheeks tinted with a subtle blush as your attention turned to him, and he tried to hide it with a soft laugh before pulling you into his embrace.

"Stop watching me; I'm blushing!" he teased, planting a gentle kiss on top of your head. Mingyu, ever fond of the comfort your presence brought, took a moment to inhale the familiar fragrance of your hair, a ritual that never failed to soothe and connect you both in the midst of daily routines.

Your arms wrapped around Mingyu's substantial frame tightened, and you whispered a question about why he hadn't woken you up. His response, "you look pretty when sleeping," accompanied by pulling you out of the hug, cupping your face, and adding, "but you look prettier even when awake," elicited both a forehead and a lip kiss.

The tranquility was interrupted by Han's protest as he stood below the counter with origami paper in hand. "Dad, stop stealing mummy. She wants to help me make planes and ships like in my dream, right mummy?" he insisted.

Mingyu, with a scoff, played along, "Aye-aye captain... I'll give you your mummy, but she's mine after breakfast, okay?" he teased his own son. Han made a face, reacting to his dad's statement, creating a moment that left both you and Mingyu amused and bursting into laughter. "He's definitely your son," you remarked to Mingyu, noting the striking resemblance between the two, not only in appearance but also in their playful attitudes.

You made your way to the couch, seeking a moment of rest after a demanding week managing a company project. Han trailed behind you like an eager puppy, claiming a spot on the couch and expressing his impatience to craft planes and ships with origami.

Mingyu, observing the scene, called Han's name and suggested, "Let mummy rest and play with me after breakfast." Han, with a pout, insisted, "Mummy is who I want to play with!" Mingyu sighed in response.

Amused, you joined the gathering on the couch, and Han, still buzzing with enthusiasm, requested to make origami ships. "How about we make the ship first? Can you teach me, mummy?" he asked, and you nodded, reaching for an online tutorial. As you followed the steps, Han mirrored your actions, a hands-on learner even when faced with mistakes.

A groggy chuckle escaped you as you struggled with the instructions, unfolding and starting afresh. "I don't think this is right, mummy," Han mumbled, his words audible to Mingyu. You glanced at your husband, who softly laughed, well-aware of your handcraft challenges. "Is this tutorial right?" you whispered in protest, but Han, growing bored, voiced his disapproval, having watched you wrestle with the paper for almost ten minutes.

"Hmm, how about making a plane instead? I think it's easier," Han suggested with a considerate tone, eliciting laughter from both you and Mingyu. His innocent and polite remark subtly highlighted your struggle with paper folding.

"Done!" you declared triumphantly as the plane origami took shape. However, Han, inspecting your creation, gave you an odd look. While it vaguely resembled a plane, it didn't quite meet his expectations. Shaking his head, he swiftly ran to Mingyu.

"Dad, let's make origami after breakfast," Han proposed, evidently preferring to enlist Mingyu's help for a more accurate and satisfying crafting experience.

*

As Mingyu and Han engaged in origami crafting on the floor, Mingyu brought up a nostalgic question. "Do you remember our first date?" he inquired while folding a paper crane for your son.

Lying on the couch, you nodded in response. "And what we were talking about is happening," you added, recalling the early days when your first date involved pizza, Mingyu's apartment, and creating a jar filled with paper cranes.

"I made them most," Mingyu remarked, and you nodded once more. "You made them all," you corrected, prompting a chuckle from Mingyu at your fond recollection of the shared moments from the past.

"I'm not good with my hands," you sighed, and Mingyu, sitting on the floor folding paper cranes with Han, turned his head to you, his brows raised. You smiled and continued, "You know what I'm good with."

A smirk played on your face, causing Mingyu to let out a soft laugh. He tossed an almost finished paper crane in your direction, and you looked at him, feigning innocence. "What? Why are you so worked up?" you asked, maintaining the charade, and he covered his face, laughing.

"Watch your mouth, babe. Han is listening," Mingyu reminded you, shielding his face from potential embarrassment.

"I was about to say brain, duh!" you clarified, and Mingyu nodded in acknowledgment, appreciating your clever save in front of your son.

Han abruptly halted his attempts at crafting an animal face origami before posing a question, "Do you know why people make origami?" Mingyu, fully engaged in the moment, shook his head, eager to hear Han's explanation.

Seated on the couch, you turned your attention to your son and responded, "Do you know why?"

Han nodded with certainty, "Because people couldn't make a real plane, ship, car, and animal! So they make the imitation ones with paper."

Your applause echoed through the room, and Mingyu showered your son with compliments, visibly proud of his insightful observation. However, what Han said next caught you off guard.

"How about making me a paper brother, dad?"

The unexpected proposition left Mingyu visibly taken aback, his surprised expression mirrored by your own raised eyebrows. "What do you mean, Han?" you inquired, seeking clarification as Mingyu's mind processed the peculiar request.

Han, undeterred by the puzzled looks, explained, "Yeah, a paper brother. Teacher said that having a brother is not easy and has a lot of responsibility. How about a paper brother? We just have to make one!"

Mingyu, still slightly baffled, shook his head and decided to excuse himself. "You handle this, since you're good with your brain," he quipped, retreating to the kitchen sink to tackle the dishes.

Turning your attention back to Han, you regarded him attentively, searching for the motivation behind his unique request. "Ummm, so..." you began, prompting your son to elaborate on the notion of a paper brother and the thoughts swirling in his young mind.

[scarletwinterxx]

i might just love you 'til the end - joshua hong imagine

i admit this is very self indulgent, it's my bday and i wanted to write this so here we are🥺🥺😅

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

A cold bed is not something you expected you'd wake up to on the morning of your birthday. Usually you'd wake up with your boyfriend's arms wrapped around you like your own personal weighted blanket but that wasn't the case today thus prompting you to get up and go look around the house for the said missing boyfriend.

Thinking he might've went to the gym so you didn't expect to see him until later but then you hear some noises coming from the kitchen and some music playing.

Making your way downstairs and to the kitchen, you see Joshua standing with his back to you while holding a spatula in one hand. Too lost in his own world, humming along the tune of Sunday Morning playing in the background.

You smile as you walk towards him, catching him off guard when he suddenly feel a pair of arms hug him from behind.

"Hey, you. You're up early" he says, looking around to catch a glimpse of you

You cuddle against his back, seeking the warmth you missed this morning. He lets you be, knowing how clingy you get when you're sleepy. He doesn't mind it one bit when you sleep on him or fall alseep when you're with him. To him it's an honor, knowing you feel safe around him to fall asleep quickly after you told him you used to struggle with that before meeting him.

Feeling content with the quiet surrounding, he gently sways back and forth as he finishes the stack of pancakes with you still clinging to him.

"You weren't there so I woke up" you mumbled after a while, earning a chuckle from him

"Sorry, I wanted to make us breakfast. I was going to take it up to you but since you're already here, let me set up the table after I finish with the pancakes"

"I'll do it, you finish here" you tell him, giving him a final squeeze before separating from him. Before you can walk away, he grabs you by the arm making you crash back into his awaiting arms

He looks down at you with a smile, eyes locking with your eyes "Happy birthday, my darling"

You grin at him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him on the lips "Thank you, baby"

"Oh and I got you flowers, that's not my main gift I'll give that later but I hope you like them" he says as he grab the bouquet from the table to pass it to you

"Josh, these are so pretty" you coo at him, "Thank, baby. Really. You don't have to get me anything but I appreciate all the effort, you really do know how to make this day extra special"

"How can I not when my most favorite person is born today. I'm just so happy to be celebrating this day with you"

You put the flowers down to give him another hug, Joshua does the same. Wrapping his arms around you, lifting you off the ground. He can hear your giggles, the sound making all the butterflies erupt in his stomach. He really truly is deeply in love with you.

"You're my favorite person too. I'm so thankful for you" you tell him

He gives your cheeks and your nose kisses before kissing you on the lips, smiling as he takes your breath away like he always does whenever he kisses you.

"Tell me what you want, name it. Anything"

"Really? Anything?"

"Mhm, what do you have in mind?" he asks, noticing the cheeky look in your eyes

"If I say I want to celebrate all of my birthdays like this, us in our kitchen cooking breakfast"

He looks at you, your future together already unfolding in his mind. Of course there's no one else he can imagine spending the rest of his life with but you.

He leans down, capturing your lips once again before answering you

"Consider it done, I'm yours forever my darling"

You smile hearing him say the word forever. For him, you'd believe it actually exists. You'd use all your birthday wishes just to make sure you're going to stay right where you are right now.

"Get ready for a whole day of romantic gestures and all out cheesiness because I'm only getting started" he jokes, putting you down before getting back to cooking

"Wouldn't celebrate this day any other way"

[rispwr]

⋆˙⟡ step by step #3 ❤︎ m.list

note : yes omg i cannotttt wait 😭😭 im impatient i know

contents : apearance of sir min yoongi (ugh he's so hot. giving so daddy vibes), teasing (male recieving), implied sex, not detailed sex, indenial reader, literature prof! jk,

wc : 1k?

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Sunday

I had made the decision to let Jungkook stay at my apartment rather than moving to his. Not because I didn't want to be at his place, but because of his roommate. The last thing I wanted was to disturb them or feel like an inconvenience.

"What about your classes?" I asked as Jungkook unpacked his things, neatly arranging them in my small living room.

"I moved them to online," he replied without sparing me a glance, completely focused on what he was doing.

"So, you're gonna be here 24/7 then?" I pressed, half expecting him to snap at me by now.

But instead, he surprised me. "Of course I will," he said evenly, still not looking up.

Why won't he look at me??

I groaned in frustration, throwing my head back dramatically. "Ugh, you know what? I'm just going to the room."

As I tried to get up, my balance wobbled precariously, and before I could fully register what was happening, Jungkook was there.

"Ahhh- Aish- Y/N!" he scolded, his hands gripping my waist firmly as he caught me mid-trip.

I blinked up at him innocently. "You know you have a broken ankle, right?"

I nodded, giving him my best puppy-dog eyes (which might've been fuck-me eyes, depending on who you asked).

Jungkook let out an exasperated sigh. "Then what were you thinking? You—ugh, you know what? Just stay here." He carefully lowered me back onto the couch, pointing at me like I was a misbehaving child. "Stay. Right. There."

I crossed my arms, sinking into the cushions like a sulky kid. "I'm not a dog, Jeon Jungkook."

"Sure you are," he muttered under his breath, smirking as he turned back to his unpacking.

I scoffed, narrowing my eyes at him. "I'm not the one who barks at me during—"

Before I could finish my sentence, he whipped around, fixing me with an annoyed but amused smile.

"You better behave while I finish setting up," he warned, pointing at me again like I was his student.

I stuck my tongue out at him, refusing to back down. "Is that what you say to your students?" I teased, my voice playful and mocking.

Jungkook shook his head with a grin, clearly trying to hide his growing annoyance. "You're impossible," he muttered, turning his attention back to his suitcase.

I giggled to myself, victorious, as I watched him struggle to ignore me.

Monday

Teasing Jungkook was turning into my new favorite pastime. Ever since yesterday, I couldn't stop poking fun at him- it was too easy, and his reactions were priceless.

This morning, I woke up to find him sitting on the bed next to me, setting up his laptop. His focus was entirely on the screen as he opened Zoom, quickly transforming into his professional teacher persona.

I slowly blinked, trying to clear the sleep from my eyes while watching him work. I'd be lying if I said he wasn't hot when he was in teacher mode. The way his brows furrowed in concentration, his lips slightly pursed. 

it was distracting.

He could teach me a few things too...

The thought crept in before I could stop it. I groaned inwardly, rolling my eyes at myself.

But what really made it worse was that he was sitting there in just boxers and a slightly oversized white t-shirt. Like, seriously? Did he have to look like that first thing in the morning?

"Alright, class," Jungkook's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "For the next three days, I'll be teaching you through online sessions. After that, a substitute teacher will take over temporarily."

"Aww, it's such a shame we won't get to see you, Mr. Jeon," one of his students whined through the screen.

I froze. My eyes narrowed at his laptop. Excuse me?

Why does she need to see him? And why does it bother me? I didn't like the strange, twisting feeling in my chest, and I definitely wasn't planning to analyze it.

Instead, an idea popped into my head.

Was it crazy? Absolutely. Was it a good idea? Probably..... not.

But that didn't stop the mischievous smirk spreading across my face.

Jungkook was definitely going to curse me out for this later, but I couldn't resist.

Jungkook was mid-sentence when you made your move, slipping quietly beneath the duvet. He froze for a moment, his eyes darting downward, disbelief flickering across his face. His lips parted as if to say something, but he quickly muted himself, leaning down just slightly.

"What are you doing?" he hissed, his voice a hushed mixture of panic and warning.

"Shhh," you whispered back, your tone playful as your hands trailed lightly over his thighs. "Just keep teaching, Mr. Jeon."

His brows knitted together in frustration, but before he could respond, a voice from the laptop snapped his attention back to the screen.

"Mr. Jeon? Are you there?"

"Yes," he replied quickly, clearing his throat as he unmuted himself. "Sorry, just... adjusting something."

You couldn't help the quiet laugh that escaped you as you felt his body tense beneath your touch. His legs shifted, a subtle attempt to reposition himself, but you followed his movement, your hands steady as they teased their way higher.

"Behave," he mouthed, his jaw clenched as he glanced down at the suspicious mound beneath the blanket.

But you had no intention of behaving.

With a deliberate slowness, you let your fingers trace the hem of his boxers, your touch feather-light. Jungkook's breath hitched, his grip on the edge of the desk tightening as he fought to maintain his composure.

"Alright," he said, his voice strained but steady as he addressed his class. "Let's move on to the next topic. I'll share my screen now..."

You smiled to yourself, emboldened by his reaction. Slowly, you leaned in, pressing your lips against the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. The muffled groan he let out sent a thrill coursing through you, though he quickly masked it with a cough.

"Mr. Jeon, are you okay?" a student asked.

"I'm fine," he said, his voice an octave lower than usual. "Just... a dry throat. Let's continue."

Biting your lip to stifle a laugh, you decided to push him further. Hooking your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, you tugged them down just enough to expose him. Jungkook's hand shot under the blanket, gripping your wrist in a desperate attempt to stop you.

"i'm in class," he mouthed, his dark eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and something much more primal.

You looked up at him, your gaze challenging as you let your lips brush teasingly against his skin. "and i don't care" you whispered, your voice so quiet it was barely audible.

Jungkook's head tilted back slightly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His hand lingered on your wrist for a moment longer before he released you, his fingers flexing as if debating whether to grab you again or let you continue.

You took his silence as permission.

As your lips continued their slow, deliberate exploration, you felt his body tremble under your touch. His breathing grew heavier, though he fought valiantly to keep it quiet. You let your tongue dart out, tasting the salt of his skin, and you felt him tense even further, his knuckles white as they gripped the desk.

"Mr. Jeon?"

Jungkook jolted, unmuting himself with a shaky hand. "Y-yes? Sorry, I was... distracted for a moment. Could you repeat the question?"

You smirked, knowing full well you were the cause of his distraction. As he stumbled through an answer, his voice wavering slightly, you pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot just above his waistband. His reaction was immediate. a sharp intake of breath, followed by a subtle shift in his chair as he tried to adjust without drawing attention to himself.

The tension in the room was electric, every tiny movement and sound amplified by the forbidden nature of what you were doing. You reveled in the power you held over him, knowing he couldn't do anything to stop you without exposing himself.

"Stop," he whispered as soon as he muted himself again, his voice barely more than a breath.

"Make me," you replied, your tone dripping with defiance.

Jungkook's head dipped forward, his hand tangling briefly in his hair as he exhaled a shaky breath. "You're going to pay for this," he murmured, his voice low and full of promise.

You grinned, your teeth grazing his skin lightly in response. "I'm counting on it."

The rest of the class was a blur of tension and restraint, Jungkook's professionalism cracking just slightly as he stumbled through his explanations. When the call finally ended, he closed his laptop with a snap, turning to face you with a look that sent your heart racing.

"You think this is funny?" he asked, his voice dangerously quiet as he leaned closer.

"A little," you admitted, your grin unrepentant.

Jungkook's eyes darkened, his hand gripping your chin as he tilted your head up to meet his gaze. "You have no idea what you've started," he murmured, his voice low and full of intent.

The promise in his tone sent a thrill through you, and you couldn't help but smile. "I don't think i do... can you show me?"

-------

"I'm supposed to be taking care of you, Y/N," Jungkook muttered as we lay in bed, me tucked into his arms, hugging him close.

"And that was my thank you," I said, smiling up at him with a teasing glint in my eyes.

He sighed dramatically, but the corner of his lips tugged into a small smile. "You have to pee, don’t you?" he said, already knowing the answer.

"Take me to the bathroom, pleaseee," I pleaded, grinning at him.

With a shake of his head and a quiet chuckle, he scooped me up effortlessly, carrying me toward the bathroom like it was the most natural thing in the world.

As he set me down gently in front of the toilet, I couldn’t resist. "You’ve double-killed my legs," I joked, smirking as he glanced at me. "Fucked me too hard."

His ears turned red instantly, and he playfully swatted my arm, muttering low enough for me not to hear, "can't believe i'm inlove with this woman"

I laughed, watching his flustered reaction, and he smiled despite himself. "Go finish up," he said, leaning against the doorframe, shaking his head like I was the most exhausting person in the world.

-----

"Hey, Kook? Can you check my phone? See if there are any updates about my work?" I asked, stretching lazily on the bed.

He glanced at me with a raised eyebrow. "You’re on sick leave, though."

"Pleaseee?" I pouted, dragging the word out dramatically.

Jungkook sighed, already defeated. He couldn’t resist me, and we both knew it. Grabbing my phone from the bedside table, he unlocked it with the password he memorized long ago, not that I’d ever mind.

His eyes flicked across the screen, scrolling through my email. "Oh…" he mumbled, pausing mid-scroll.

I sat up straighter. "What?"

"Someone transferred to your department," he muttered, his voice lower now as he handed me the phone.

Curious, I grabbed it and scanned the email. My stomach dropped when I saw the name.

Min Yoongi.

I froze for a moment before letting out a scoff. "He moved back to Korea?" I rolled my eyes, tossing the phone onto the bed like it had personally offended me.

Jungkook’s jaw tightened. His face remained calm, but I could see it. the subtle shift in his expression. He was retreating behind the quiet wall he always put up when something got too close to hurting him.

I sighed, leaning back into the pillows. "I’m tired. I’m gonna sleep."

Jungkook got up from the bed silently, heading toward the bathroom. As he reached the door, he turned to look at me. His face was unreadable, but his eyes… they said everything he couldn’t.

That look felt heavier than words. It was almost as if he were saying something to me. 

Jungkook knew what he was feeling, but he also knew better than to dwell on it. Min Yoongi. My ex. My first long-term relationship. The man who broke my heart by moving away and refusing to make long-distance work. And the man whose shadow still lingered over Jungkook, 

because he was the reason why i broke up with jungkook. 

He never brought it up, never said a word about the history between us. But I knew it. And he knew it too.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, gripping the bathroom doorframe for a second longer than necessary. His mind was a mess, filled with thoughts he didn’t want to think.

He knew he didn’t have a chance with me. He’d accepted that long ago. Being friends with benefits, a fuckbuddy, whatever I called it- this was the closest he’d ever get, and he was grateful for that.

Grateful to be the man who knew my body, who understood my quirks and my thinking, and, in some small, unspoken way, still knew my heart. Grateful just to exist in my orbit, even if it wasn’t the way he wanted.

He turned back to me, his voice quiet but firm, like it took everything in him to say it. "Stay on the bed."

And with that, he walked into the bathroom, leaving behind the tension that sat thick in the air.

-------

It had been a week since I’d sprained my ankle, and Jungkook had been glued to me the entire time. 

Don’t get me wrong, I appreciated the help, but he was treating me like I’d shattered every bone in my body. Even when I needed to pee, he insisted on hovering just outside the bathroom door, ready to swoop in like I was some fragile porcelain doll.

We sat together in the doctor’s office, waiting for my follow-up. Jungkook’s leg bounced slightly as he sat next to me, arms crossed, looking like he had something to prove to the universe.

When the doctor finally walked in, Jungkook immediately straightened in his seat, his eyes darting between me and the doctor.

"Well," the doctor began, scanning my chart. "The swelling has gone down significantly, and your range of motion has improved. That’s a good sign."

I exhaled in relief. "So does that mean I can walk again??"

The doctor smiled. "Yes, you can start walking. But," he added, holding up a finger, "take it easy. Avoid prolonged standing or walking, and don’t push yourself too hard. If you feel pain or discomfort, stop immediately and rest."

I grinned, turning to Jungkook with a victorious look. "Hear that? I can walk again. Freedom, finally!"

Jungkook’s jaw tightened slightly. "Yeah, but the doctor said to take it easy. Don’t think you’re running around like nothing happened."

I rolled my eyes and leaned back dramatically in my chair. "Oh, please. You’ve barely let me breathe this past week. God forbid I get up on my own without you hovering like a helicopter."

Jungkook scoffed but didn’t deny it.

I turned back to the doctor with a mock-serious tone. "So, can I go to work, run errands, and do normal human things without Jungkook treating me like I’ll shatter into pieces?"

The doctor chuckled. "Yes, you’re cleared to return to normal activities, as long as you listen to your body and don’t overdo it."

I smirked at Jungkook. "You hear that, Kook? I’m not an invalid anymore. You can finally relax."

Jungkook shot me a look but said nothing.

-----

The next morning, Jungkook insisted on driving me to work for my first day back. I tried to argue that I was fine, but he shut me down instantly.

"You’re still recovering, Y/N," he said firmly, grabbing my bag as I huffed in protest. "It’s not up for discussion."

When we arrived at the parking lot of my office, Jungkook parked the car and quickly came around to my side, opening the door for me. His hand hovered near my arm as I stepped out, like he didn’t fully trust me not to trip and fall.

"Thanks, Kook," I said, giving him a small smile.

But as I adjusted my bag on my shoulder, Jungkook froze. His entire body went stiff, his gaze fixed on something, or rather, someone a few feet away.

I followed his line of sight and immediately felt a knot form in my stomach.

Min Yoongi.

He was leaning casually against a car, holding his phone, dressed sharply in a blazer with his dark hair styled just enough to look effortless. His eyes flicked up, landing on us, and the faintest hint of a smile appeared on his face.

For a moment, no one said anything. The air felt thick, heavy with something unspoken.

"Y/N," Yoongi greeted, his voice smooth and familiar.

I nodded stiffly. "Yoongi."

Jungkook’s jaw clenched beside me, his fists flexing slightly at his sides. He said nothing, but the tension in his shoulders was enough to let me know how he felt.

Yoongi’s gaze shifted to Jungkook, his 'smile' widening slightly. "It’s been a while."

Jungkook didn’t respond. He didn’t even blink.

"I guess I’ll see you inside," Yoongi said to me, his tone polite but tinged with something I couldn’t quite place.

As he walked away, Jungkook exhaled sharply, his jaw still tight.

"Kook…" I started, unsure of what to say, my voice soft. He looked down at me, his expression unreadable.

I sighed, dropping my gaze. "Just—just help me get to the elevator."

His hand moved to the small of my back almost immediately, guiding me forward. But the silence between us spoke unsaid words.

[privateanxieties]

these final hours

Summary: When your job becomes too overwhelming, Frank decides enough is enough. A brief conversation reveals that things run deeper than he thought.

----------------------------------------

His verdict comes down one Sunday evening, breaking you from the melancholic stupor you're well into traversing.

"Alright, that's it."

There's a part of you that wants to protest immediately. It's always the first one to make itself known, because it's the one that feels the most fear. No, you cannot just quit your job, no matter the toll it's taking on you. No matter how many people tell you it's making you fade. No matter how little you stand to gain from keeping it up. Because if you do, then - then -

"Don't look at me like that. I said that's enough. You ain't going tomorrow."

There is, however, another part of you: the one that could cry out in sheer relief just by being presented with an out.

You don't even know what it is, exactly. Everyone has to work who was not born fortunate. People have much harder jobs than you do, and they get paid even less. So many struggle to make ends meet. You have neither the long, nor the short straw. The work is completely average, though perhaps below your capabilities. Definitely below your studies - God knows you're not justifying any of those student loans, save for maybe lots of jobs requiring some kind of degree these days. No, you can't quite grasp where all this melancholia with regard to your job originates.

When you really look at your situation, you have to abstain from getting carried away by overwhelming disappointment over how unjustified all this grief seems. Things could be a hell of a lot worse. People go through things at work that render them suicidal, and here you are, on a Sunday night, sad that you have to wake up for your commute.

"Sweetheart, you gotta talk to me. Alright? Can't handle seein' you like this. Nothin's worth it, you hear me? Ain't a goddamn thing in this world worth what this shit does to you."

Frank's hand on your knee makes you immediately tense up. It's instantaneous sensory overload from a simple touch and you can't explain it. It bothers you that you can't explain because it's another thing that's wrong with you. Another overreaction to an inoffensive event.

Before you can move away or even just barely take a breath, the warmth of his skin disappears. You hate the relief that washes over you. Who feels better when someone they love stops being affectionate? You, apparently. Always against the grain.

"You know I'm not making you do anything. Yeah? Need to hear that you know that."

A nod is what you manage, but eye contact has yet to happen. You theorize that if it were to happen, if you were to see him in this moment of wild vulnerability, you'd probably want to run from him and all else in the world.

"You don't have shit to prove to anyone. You included. Can't try to beat yourself into a mold if that mold's just gonna take away all the best parts of you."

Your chest rattles, and you try to keep your breath from becoming a pained gasp.

"You know, just 'cause I read doesn't mean I'm good with words. That's all you. But I'll say whatever I gotta say to get through. I ain't losin' the woman I love to a fucking job. And I sure as shit ain't letting her believe she's gotta do what the world says she's gotta do. Break herself as many times as she has to just to get approval. Can't do shit with approval, I'll tell you that."

Against all odds, words tumble out of you like a knocked over pot of crayons. Sharpness everywhere.

"I fail at - at everything. I haven't done one thing right my whole life. I quit everything I start. Everything - Frank, I can't st-"

An involuntary sob rips straight from your heart.

"I can't stand myself. I'm tired of being tired. I'm tired of my days not belonging to me. I'm tired of getting nowhere. I'm tired of not having any good reason to be like this. Every day I have to know, I have to wake up and go to sleep and never stop knowing that I am the way that I am. And I wish something would just happen so I don't have to keep-"

It stops. The flow of words you've never said out loud, even to yourself, stops dead. The silence floods the remaining space without delay but it, too, does so fruitlessly.

Frank has heard enough. Enough to know exactly what you've sworn you would protect him from.

"Will you look at me?"

The softest plea. You don't think you've ever witnessed it.

"Need to see it. Yeah? I need to see it in your eyes, what you just said. And then we'll figure it out. But I need to know, sweetheart. Because if I gotta protect you from your own mind, Imma be honest with you - I need different gear."

It's a weak attempt at humor, but not completely unsuccessful. Mostly you just know that Frank means every word. And you know, as your gaze meets his at last, that the part of you that always resists outside help has lost some strength. You're not too far gone to be able to admit that your thoughts have been getting bleaker. It's a newness that scares even you, who's been down this path before. Somewhere, it seems a turn arrived that even you weren't aware you'd taken.

But Frank is nothing if not relentless. There is no road he won't track you down on and no path inaccessible to someone of his determination. You can see it in his eyes, along with the subtlest glimmer. You're making him worry, and when Frank worries, he plans. Ten, maybe twenty steps ahead - which is why he locks away your phone with his guns for the night. It's safe to say you won't have an alarm for tomorrow, and the relief that fact brings isn't unaccompanied by guilt. Frank soothes it with promises and his unique brand of realism - you'll get through everything together, as long as you're honest. No more hiding, no more detours.

You're not sure how good you'll be at it, and when you voice the thought to him, Frank doubles down as he pulls the covers back from the bed and you both slip under them.

"You know what being good at therapy looks like?"

You hum your curiosity.

"Not needing relief anymore. Promise to let me know when we get there. Yeah?"

You press your fragile promise into the skin of his cheek, tucking your head below his chin and wrapping as much of your body around him as possible and, for the first time in weeks, drifting off instead of fighting to sleep.

.

.

.

-fin-

A/N: just a short piece that I hope brings you some comfort if you need it.

[bonbonbunnyships]

waking from the nightmare

{cw: fem reader, angst but with a happy ending, comfort, sfw, 2.2 spoilers}

originally written after 2.2 release to cope with the ending ;w;

The long nightmare is finally over.

While the rest of Penacony had awoken from their dreams, that was the moment your nightmare had begun.

After the fall of the dream, Sunday was nowhere to be found. Despite Robin's intuition that he was indeed alive, it was not enough to soothe you. You spent long nights in his manor, tossing and turning as you struggled to sleep without knowing his ultimate fate. Your eyes always red from crying by the morning.

In the end you were the one who had to plead with members of the Bloodhound family, the ones who had found his injured form, to let him go back to you. Eventually, they relented, unable to look at you as you wept and pleaded for them to let him go. That everything that had happened was not his fault, not truly.

Now you lay beside him in his bed. Your head resting against his chest as he holds you to him. It's a surreal feeling to you, after being partially convinced you may never see him again.

Your eyes water at the thought. His hand instinctively reaching to caress your hair, threading his fingers through the strands.

"I... I'm sorry... You shouldn't... shouldn't have..."

You look up at the sound of his voice, shaking your head. A quiet sniffle escaping you.

"N-No, Sunday... You don't... you don't need to apologize for anything... You didn't... you were just trying to do what you thought was right. You aren't... you aren't a bad person..." You murmur softly through your tears, wiping them away with a balled fist as you try and fail not to fall apart in front of him.

"Little dove..." He whispers, softly, the golden hues of his eyes softening as he lifts a hand to your face. Wiping away your tears with his thumb. "You are so kind, so good... Too sweet for your own good... But that has always been what drew me to you, isn't it?" He gives you a half smile, the wings beside his head fluttering slightly for a moment. “How you remained so kind, so understanding despite all the pain the world put you through... How you never let it change you, twist you into something else.”

He pulls you closer, holding you protectively to him. Settling his chin atop your head as you weep silently against his chest. Your fingers curling against his nightwear, clinging to him as if you feel afraid, afraid he might be taken from you again. “

Promise... promise me you will stay, please... Sunday. I just... I was so afraid, afraid I would never see you again...”

He hushes you softly, brushing his fingers through your hair again. His free hand moving to rub small circles around the small of your back. “Of course, my sweet girl. I promise. I will not leave you alone again, I’m here. Rest, little dove. Everything will... will be alright.”

[myreallovelymind]

Fucking through the pain

The guy I saw the other day, let’s call him G, told me I wasn’t allowed to touch myself until Sunday which was three days away. He wanted the first people to touch me until then. I was going to the kink event which I had no plans on playing as it was all new to me but I was still going to be horny as fuck. G allowed me to edge for 15 minutes tops after the event to soothe my horniness but I was going to need to him it for him.

I got dressed and ready for my kink event. Something happened in the pre-drinks which kinda made me feel uncomfortable and unsafe about going. G and I were texting about me going to see him after the event as a horny mess on his doorstep. After I made the decision of going home, I texted G asking if he was serious about me coming over because I was now free. He said yes, I should come to see him.

My outfit is hidden under shorts and a jumper so nobody would suspect how much of a slut I look like underneath. I turn up, show him my outfit, he gives me water and immediately bends me over the back of the sofa. He spanks, fingers me and licks me. I am a little tipsy but I immediately realise how much I needed his touch.

I moan and just enjoy the sensations. He pulls me up and tells me to kneel. I start worshipping him, looking up at him. He is in a shirt and fuck he looks good. He pulls me back up and starts fucking me. He moves me into the sofa and fucks me from on top. He’s big and he’s going deep so I’m struggling. It’s tight and hard to take it but I want to please him but I have to tap out a few times.

He pulls me on top and gently presses on the side of my neck. Enough for me to feel controlled but not too far that I feel safe. It gets a little blurry because I can feel myself switch off. I’m just taking me and it feels so good. I can start to feel tears but I try and control it. Not sure I’m quite ready to get that happen.

He stops fucking me and tells me I still need to record myself edging for him. We go to his bed, and he fucks me again. He gets his plug out and gentle inserts it in me. Its way bigger than the ones I have but fuck it feels amazing. He fucks me again.I laugh saying I’ll never actually get to edge. He stops, spanks me and gives me his wand and I try to edge as he sets up the cameras. The problem is 1) I’m tipsy so edging is hard 2) I’m so used to my clit sucker toy that I find it really really hard to edge. But I still enjoy the wand. He’s not even in the room! Though he comes back and spreads my pussy open (could post that on twitter). I stop and we end up chatting for a while. I'm enjoying the mix of lust and talk.

We start kissing again and we fuck. I’m on top and I’m loving it. I'm holding his shoulder strongly as he really fucks me. And then he says something so fucking hot

I'm about to cum. I'm going to fuck you hard and I'm not going to be able to stop so you're going to have to hold it if you need to cum.

Fuccckkkkk. He cums. Its amazing. I'm feeling pretty ruined and raw. We chat and laugh for god knows how long but we end up kissing each other again. I know he's going to want to fuck me. He downs down on me periodically during the evening, so he does again. It hurts again but he's gentle. It hurts but I can tell he needs this. He checks in on me but I tell him its okay.

I'm clenching the sheets and muffling my moans that are from pleasure and pain. I take it. I want him to be happy. I want him to cum. I need to please him. In that moment, his pleasure is more important than mine. I feel like crying again but it makes me so happy to take it. He cums. I'm smiling. I feel like I did did my job as a sub.

We get ready for bed and sleep. I wake up in the morning so horny. He fucks me again. It feels amazing. I ask for the toy, he agrees. I edge this time as he spoons me. There's something about a morning creampie.

I get my stuff. He takes away my underwear telling me I can get them on Sunday. I take the tube, and cum is literally drilling down my leg. Oh and I still can't touch until Sunday. I'm a mess.

[melysweetmaple]

So... no stream, today?

Damien x f! Reader OS

Warning: This contains SMUT (minors dni)

This story contains these explicits subjects: praise kinks, soft dom (both m & f), switches, oral sex (m & f receiving), lenghty foreplay, fluff and p in v sexual act.

Summary

     You laugh and give him a quick peck on his lips, leaving a grin on his face, you chuckle. As you are about to look away, his right hand finds its way on your chin, his thumb carressing your cheek softly. You feel the heat rising up on your face. He tilts your head up so your eyes meet.

A/N: it's been a long time since I wrote smuts, so I'm a little rusty. I'm not too proud of the ending.

It's a normal late Sunday morning. You're relaxing in bed after making yourself breakfast. Most chores have been done since yesterday, and only a couple of things are left, but it can wait a little later. For now, you just wanna be close to your boyfriend who is still sleeping in. Seeing that he's sleeping on his side, his back facing you, you decided to do the same and started to scroll through your social media on your phone. Few minutes later, you sense the bed is shaking a little, you know that Damien has changed his sleeping position so you didn't do anything about it other than smiling when hearing his soft and sleepy groans.

Then you feel his arm around your waist, you only had time to drop your phone on the bedside table before feeling yourself being pulled towards him, letting out a soft groan when you got next to him. He kissed your shoulder and then nuzzled his face on the back of your neck. His rythmed hot breath on your neck was starting to make you feel some types of ways. You secretly love being manhandled, even when it is as innocently sweet as just being pulled closer to him.

You're struggling to turn around to face him and give him a hug. His hugs are always the best; his fuzzy chest brought you coziness and comfort whenever you rested your head on him, but his soft tummy was your favorite part of his hugs. You give him a kiss in between his neck and chest as you're nesting your left leg in between his. His chest rose up as he inhaled and let out a yawn.

"Morning princess, did you sleep well?" He asks as he hugged you back and kissed the crown of your head.

"Morning sleepy head." You laugh. "I slept well, I actually made breakfast, there's some leftovers in the fridge if you want to eat it later." You say as you start caressing his back, naughty thoughts rushing through your mind now that he's awake.

"Later?" He questions, his face expressed both confusion and surprise.

"You heard that right." You giggle. "Did you know that I love it when you pull me closer to you?" You ask timidly, looking up at him, meeting his eyes.

"You may have mentioned it once..." he sheepishly says.

You laugh and give him a quick peck on his lips, leaving a grin on his face, you chuckle. As you are about to look away, his right hand finds its way on your chin, his thumb carressing your cheek softly. You feel the heat rising up on your face. He tilts your head up so your eyes meet.

"You're so beautiful. Did I ever tell you that?" He asks, still grinning.

"You may have mentioned it once..." You mimic him. His face turning red makes you laugh. He couldn't help but start to laugh as well.

"Someone is feeling fiesty." He playfully says.

"Oh, but I'm feeling more than fiesty, mister." You say with a sensuous tone in your voice as your left hand finds its way to his chest.

You make the move first, your lips meet his and as the two of you are passionately making out, you let your hands wander around his body, but never touching the private parts of his, you were waiting for his consent to do so. Hearing him groan in your mouth was driving you wild. His hands are starting to wander around your body now, and you're feeling like you're about to lose your mind as you let out a moan.

He breaks away from your lips to take off his tank top, you took the opportunity to take off your shirt as well, the both of you eagerly reconnect your lips, continuing to touch each others, now bare, chests. You break away from his lips to leave kissing trails from his left cheek to his neck and all the way to his tummy as he gets slowly on his back, letting you continue, moaning softly. When you reached his belly button, your eyes met with his pajama pants tightening around his crotch. He grabs your arm and gently pulls you back next to him.

"Let me have my fun, now!" He whispers in your ear as you get on your back, his voice was deep and low, it sent shivers across your body.

He starts leaving hickeys around you're neck, you whimper to every mark he leaves on you as he's making his way towards your chest he lifts his head up at you, you nod a yes with your head, giving him consent to do anything he want with your breast. His kisses are taking a turn to your right breast, as he reaches your nipple, he starts to gently nibble it and plays with it with his tongue, his left hand cups your left breast and his thumb slowly caresses your left nipple, you let out a whimpering moan, he relishes in hearing what he does to you makes you feel good. He leaves your breast to continue his kissing trail to your belly as well. He was getting dangerously close to the waistband of your pajama pants.

"NO!" You yelp, both of you taken aback by this reaction.

"I didn't do something wrong, did I?" He asks, looking for reassurance.

"Oh goodness, no, you didn't do anything wrong." You begin to say. "I just had something in mind that I wanted to do." You pat the empty space on the bed, motioning him to come next to you. He lays down on his right side, facing you. You turn on your left side to face him. "Hi!" You playfully say. "Hi!" He playfully answers back.

You feel a rush of dominance going through you. You gently push him to get him on his back, and he does. You perched above him, your left hand on the bed, and you right hand on his waist. You kiss him, your right hand carressing his tummy, sometimes playing with the waistband of his pajama pants. He gently grabs you hand and makes you palm his throbbing cock, as you continue kissing him, you change the pressure of your ups and downs caresses, leaving him groaning and moaning your name in your mouth.

"Wanna take off those pants for me, please?" You break away from him to ask. "Well, since it's so nicely asked!" He jokingly says as he takes off his pants. You reconnect your lips to his, slowly jerking him off, his face contorted into pleasure as moans escape his mouth.

"Fuck, you're so good to me." he groans. "Do what you want to me, baby, please." He whimpers.

This was the signal you were eagerly waiting for, you move closer to his dick and you slowly lower your upper body teasingly, leaving your ass up so he can admire the view. Boy, ô, boy, is he admiring this beautiful view. You start licking his tip, he lets out a pleasurable sigh, then you take it in your mouth to suck him while your other hand is cupping and playing gently with his balls.

"Holy shit, baby! Your mouth feels so good around me." He whimpers.

Hearing all of this praise really got you going, you switched between licking, sucking and jerking his cock and balls, leaving him a moaning mess. You could tell that he was close to cum so you decided to gradually stop. You heard him whine a bit when you eventually did stop, which surprised you a little, since you never heard him do this kind of sound, but my goodness was this satisfying to hear. You could feel yourself dripping from your cunt.

"I believe it is your turn now, mister." You jokingly say as you plop down flat on your stomach onto the bed.

"But how can I top this, wonderful, sensation you gave me, missy?" He asks with a wicked tone in his voice, lightly smacking your butt, as he's slowly getting up from the bed. "Can you take off your pants for me, please?" He asks straightforwardly, you can tell he stepped into his dominant role.

"Since it's been asked so nicely," you laugh as you take your pants off, arching your back and leaving your ass up to ease yourself but also to tease him. He helps you take them off as it was left hanging at your legs.

"Turn around, baby." He softly orders.

You execute yourself, he grabs your ankles and pulls you towards him, he gets on his knees and lowers his head towards your cunt, licking your clit and slowly adding a finger, moanings and whimperings are escaping your mouth as he adds another finger and plays with that sensible spot. He looks at you, drinking you up with his eyes, loving the reaction he gets out, pleasuring you. In a fit of moanings, you grab onto his hair.

"Oh, Damien! It feels so good." You exclaim.

"Does it now?" He taunts. "Do you want me to continue or do you want me to fuck you?"

"Please, please, fuck me." You beg, unable to take more.

"You want me to fuck you? Get back on your knees, princess." He gently orders. You never turned around so quickly. "Arch your back for me, baby, I wanna grab that beautiful ass of yours."

You do what he asks, you feel his left hand on your ass as he's aligning his dick with your cunt. You feel his tip at your entrance.

"Ready?" He asks. You nod a yes with your head. Both of his hands on each side of your ass, he slowly enters inside you. You let out a whimpering groan.

"Oh! Damien!" You let out with a moan.

"I know, baby, it feels good, doesn't it?"

"YES! " You exclaim.

He starts to thrust into you, slow at first then deeper, faster. You start to feel yourself teetering on the edge of cumming as he got back to a slower and deeper tempo. "Oh!– Damien, ju-just like that, ple-please I wanna cum." You ask between moans and whimpers. "Cum for me baby." He pants out.

You feel lightheaded, groans are escaping your contorted mouth, but they feel like they're far away. Damien continues a few more strokes until you hear him letting out a raspy groan, his lower body pressed against your ass and you feel his cock twitching inside you for a brief moment before getting out and plop down on his stomach onto the bed next to you. You look at the time on your phone. It's almost 2 pm.

"Safe to assume you won't be streaming today?" You jokingly ask showing him the time.

"I don't think I could." He exhaled, cuddling you up. You hear him sleepily mumble something about tweeting that he won't be able to stream before you end up dozing off yourself.

[the-witty-pen-name]

Love is Blind Part 5

Eddie Munson x PlusSize!F!Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI - SMUT, PiV sex, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, kissing/making out, cursing, alcohol, mentions of slut shaming and body shaming, creepy dude hitting on the reader

Story Warnings: reader has low self-esteem and struggles with self love/acceptance, anxiety/trauma related to bullying, cursing, substance use mention

Summary: In a last ditch effort to evade the normal disappointments of dating, a group of misfits desperate to have someone see who they are on the inside volunteer for the most recent brain chemistry study at Hawkins Lab. 

A/N: If I forgot to tag something, please let me know! I'm so sorry for the wait, I hope you enjoy. Please consider reblogging if you like it! Thank you for reading! I have absolutely loved this story and I would love to write more for Eddie in the future. Please let me know what kind of things you'd like to see me do next!

Series Masterlist

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the way your skin sparks when Eddie kisses your shoulder. The warmth from him radiates onto you in a way that just swallows you whole. You feel bumps rise across the span of your skin as you feel his shaky breath. His long curls tickle the back of your neck as he pulls himself closer, resting his chin into the crook of your neck. You love waking up like this. 

“G’morning,” he mumbles against your skin, pressing gentle kisses to the spot behind your ear. His large hand slowly glides up and down the curve of your side and he’s completely transfixed by the softness. He massages your side and the coldness of his rings help to wake you up. You can tell he’s been up and dressed this way. He hooks his jean clad leg over yours as you continue to resist waking up and he skillfully pulls you around to face him.

“Morning,” you grumble sleepily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Eddie takes the opportunity to swoop in and kiss your cheek, peppering your face with kisses over and over again until you concede and fully open your eyes. 

Eddie thinks you look so beautiful in the morning. You try to argue about your hair, or your morning breath, or whatever else to put yourself together first. He doesn’t care. He thinks you look cute with your cheek squished up against the pillow and he loves to let you sleep in. He loves how once he gets up, you’ll sprawl out and take over the whole bed. He loves how you practically burrow yourself into the blankets but leave one leg out. 

“It’s almost noon,” he remarks gently, moving your hair back into place for you. “We still have a few hours before the gig later and I’d love to spend them with you if you’re up to being awake, princess.” 

It’s been a blissful few months- Eddie’s toothbrush sharing a cup with yours in the bathroom, his sneakers strewn amongst your pile of shoes by the front door, his clothes from the weekend mixed in with your weekly laundry which get added to the drawer in your dresser you let him claim. Most Thursday through Sunday night, he’s crashing with you because your date nights seem to seep into several days. 

He takes out your trash, because he knows you hate it. He writes dirty limericks on the fog of the mirror after he showers because he knows you’ll laugh when you see it. You fake annoyance but he knows you don’t actually want him to stop. Eddie will let you braid his hair when you’re bored, and paint his nails. You paint his nails black and he says it looks “metal” when you accidentally get some polish on his cuticles. 

“C’mere,” you mumble, pulling him down next to you, and he gives in. You snuggle against his chest after he settles and you breathe in the smell of smoke that lingers on his shirt. He rubs your back comfortingly, coaxing you awake gently. 

His hair tickles your cheek when he leans down to kiss your head. You scrunch your face at the sensation and it makes him chuckle. 

“So, I gotta meet up with the guys to load the van in a few hours,” he says. 

“Yeah,” you reply, beginning to sit up, “I gotta quickly stop in at work and grab my check. Kenny forgot to sign it. I figured I’d stop there first, then stop at the bank to cash it before it closes- that way I have some cash for drinks and whatever.”

“Nah, don’t bother, just put all your stuff on my tab. I was gonna open one for us when I’m there with the guys for soundcheck.”

“I really don’t-”

“Nope,” he says, accentuating the ‘P,’ “I’m not one of those deadbeat guys who doesn’t pay for his girl’s drinks.”

“Fine,” you smile, “but I still need to get my check and deposit it.”

“Do you want me to go get lunch?” he offers. “I can run out and grab something from Banny’s for us while you get ready.” 

“With extra fries?” you smile. 

“And cherry coke,” he notes, kissing you on the lips. You smile, and watch as he grabs his denim jacket. He winks at you as he closes the door to your apartment. You’re beaming from ear to ear at his dopey smile. It’s sickening. You’re like a couple from a cheesy rom-com that you never thought was real. 

Eddie’s waiting at one of the booths waiting for the to-go order when someone interrupts his most recent reread of The Two Towers. It’s a voice he’d recognize anywhere, he doesn’t even need to look up to know who it is. 

“Eddie? Eddie Munson?”

“Oh, shit- Chrissy, hey,” he says, placing his book pages down to save his spot. She looks the same, but just a little older, just like him. She looks like how everyone kind of always expected her to turn out. Healthy, successful, glowing, all of the adjectives that would come to mind when people think of Hawkin’s sweetheart Chrissy Cunningham. 

“Wow, you look great,” she compliments. A long time ago, that would have been something Eddie would have collapsed to hear. It felt like a lifetime ago when Eddie would hang onto every word or look she would grace his way. Today? Eddie is just more mildly annoyed that he needs to make small talk with someone from high school. Life is funny like that sometimes.

Eddie can admit, he does look good. He’s grown into himself a little more since Chrissy last saw him. He’s more confident these days, having grown into himself. He’s also found his person. He’s no longer plagued with his past fears of loneliness and he doesn’t fill his time anymore worrying about rejection. He’s in his prime right now, and he owes it all to you. He recognizes now that he held Chrissy up on this pedestal- but it wasn’t really Chrissy. It was this fictional idea that he made up in his head about her. How beneath the surface, she was different, she could see through his walls. She wouldn’t care about what other people thought of him. He wanted that movie moment. And he got so much more than that now. Now, all of it to him is much more clear. It was a school crush. He’s so much happier now. 

“Thanks,” he says, hoping his indifference isn’t glaringly obvious. He gets his hopes up the bag on the counter is his, but unfortunately the number called out isn’t his. So much for his hope of a quick getaway. 

“Eddie, listen- um, this is kind of crazy but like, I have been hoping to run into you,” she says with a hesitant tone that Eddie has difficulty reading. He worries he did something he forgot about. At the same time, he’s still only half paying attention, watching Benny from the corner of his eye to assess the take-out situation.

“Oh?” He asks, dumbly. 

“Yeah, can I sit?” She asks. He gulps, and nods reluctantly, giving up hope of getting back to his book. 

She’s wearing a mom outfit, Eddie notes. It feels odd to say but Eddie doesn’t know anything about fashion. It’s just more mature than the cheer uniform. Slacks and a button down and what he thinks is probably a cashmere sweater. Her hair is shorter. He notices the diamond on her left ring finger, as she toys with it anxiously. 

“So, what’s up?” Eddie asks.

“This is going to sound ridiculous,” she begins, taking a shaky breath. “Um, I wanted to ask you something.” 

“Uh, sure,” Eddie says awkwardly, shifting in his seat. How long does it take for two burgers? 

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” she sighs, “And I know this is totally coming out of left field and we haven’t talked in like years. But, I just wanted to let you know that I’m engaged. And I can’t stop thinking about how I should be happier. I really thought I wanted to be with Jason, and thought I’d be excitedly planning my wedding but I just keep on having these huge existential what if  questions running in my head.”

“I’m not really the right person to be talking about this with- maybe like a thera-” 

“I’m just thinking about all those times you were so unbelievably great. I just am realizing I don’t want what I actually thought I wanted. I was young and insecure and had this preconceived idea of like what I wanted, or who I should want. And I was terrible to you, and you were just so wonderful. I just really, really regret it. I just keep thinking about you lately. Your own my mind constantly-”

“Chrissy, I-”

“And I kept thinking if I ever saw you again, I would just be spontaneous and plead for forgiveness. I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry, and I was so wrong and I realize now how foolish I was. I know this is such a long shot, but if you would ever be willing to maybe try us- you and me. I would break off with Jason for good. Because, Eddie, I was so, so wrong. You are just so incredible, and I’m so sorry it took me so long to realize.”

“Chrissy, I’m sorry, I really hope you find what you want and you find someone you can be happy with. Either if that’s Jason or someone else, but it’s not me. I found my person.”

“O-oh.” 

“Yeah, I am serious Chrissy, I wish you nothing but the best. But, I don’t think you and I could have ever worked. You’re great, but you and I weren’t meant to be. Even if in some crazy alternative reality we ended up together, it wouldn’t have worked out and I still would’ve found her. It’s hard to explain, but once you find it, like really find that one person, you can’t even imagine being this happy with someone else. It just doesn’t happen more than once.” 

“Order 107.”

“Uh, that’s me,” he says awkwardly, “Listen, uh, he’s out there.” He offers her a sympathetic smile and she nods as he gets up and grabs the bag off the counter. Eddie doesn’t want to leave her like this, but at the same time he doesn’t owe her anything. They haven’t seen each other in years, and she couldn’t have expected him to wait it out for her to decide she was ready for him. 

He offers one more friendly wave before he walks out, leaving Chrissy stunned. Probably wondering if she actually just got rejected by Eddie Munson. He can’t help but feel a little proud of himself- how far he’s come and how secure he feels now. Had Chrissy pulled that stunt a year ago? He might’ve crumbled and would have missed out the best thing that ever happened to him. 

He wishes he could go back and tell his past self that he’d actually be the one to reject Chrissy. He’d know this indescribable happiness, and have the greatest girl in the world back home waiting for him. Running into Chrissy feels like nothing but just a pothole in the road on his drive back to you. He can’t wait to tell you, and tease you about what a catch of a boyfriend you have. Most of all, to tell you thank you for showing him that he deserves to be treated so much better. 

Eddie recounts the whole thing to you over burgers at your little kitchen table. He tells you everything, down to the little details of how he swears it took 2 hours for him to get out of there when in actuality he left and came back in a span of 45 minutes. If it had been another guy, you can see the old you being so worried. Paranoid he’d leave you in a split second for the prettier, skinnier girl. She would be the one he actually wanted, and he had settled for you. But this wasn’t any other guy. This was Eddie. Absolutely, head over heels, act like a goofball falling over backwards to prove how much he loves you Eddie. 

It just felt like listening to him telling a work story. A sequence of events that mildly inconvenienced his day, but in no way affects your real world. You have never felt this secure before. You’re pretty sure you could leave Eddie in a room with Brooke Shields and Pamela Anderson and Eddie would just show them the polaroid of you he keeps in his wallet. 

You’re watching an episode of The A Team together when Eddie reluctantly drags himself away to get ready to go. “I think you should redo your van- I can help you. Paint the whole thing black and then add the red swoop. It would look really cool.” 

“I’ll get right on that,” he retorts, leaning in to kiss you. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“I love you,” you smile, kissing him again. 

“Love you too,” he replies, flashing one of his signature cheesy grins. 

You spend way too much time thinking about your outfit. It’s one of those days when none of your clothes feel right and none of the outfits look as good on as they did in your head. You’d met all the guys before, but this was the first gig Corroded Coffin has had since you and Eddie had started dating. You’ve seen them rehearse a million times, but this is the first time you’ll get to see them in their element. 

Eddie’s been a nervous wreck. He’s used to playing dive bars with crowds never bigger than twenty people. This gig is nothing out of the ordinary except that he wants nothing more than to impress you. He knows he’ll relax once he sees you. He just wants to show you that you aren’t wasting your time with him or something. He knows he’s not like other guys. He’s blue collar, mechanic by day, wannabe musician by night. He can’t give you everything he wants to give you.

He wants to buy you expensive jewelry and pamper you with whatever you want. He wants to give you the world. He knows you don’t care about any of that, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t still want to spoil you any less. In a weird way, he thinks that by playing well tonight, he can show you that he has a chance- he could make it and really be someone. That it will be worth it if you stick around. He knows it’s foolish. He knows you don’t need impressing, but he wants to be impressive. 

They finish up their first song when he catches you walking in. He think he might pass out- he thinks you had to have done this on purpose. The low top, the short skirt, those fucking sexy tights- you’re legitimately trying to kill him. He fumbles over his words introducing the next song when you blow him a kiss and he notices the red lipstick. His mind is foggy, thinking immediately of what happened the last time you wore lipstick like that. Fuck. 

He tries his best to remain composed, but his eyes follow you as you venture further into the venue. His breath hikes when he watches the way your chest presses when you lean into the bar to order a drink, and how your skirt hikes ever so slightly. He feels the sweat bead down his temple when he notices your thighs when you sit on one of the nearby barstools. He tries to think of literally anything else to help him calm down as he discreetly uses his guitar to hide the reaction he has to watching you bite into the cherry that came with your drink, completely clueless that your lips wrapping around it had any sort of implication. He’s just entirely turned on and he thinks anything you do is insanely sexy. 

You notice Eddie is looking a little shaken, and you just assume he’s nervous. It never even dawns on you that this is something you’re doing to him inadvertently. You’re feeling so out of your comfort zone in this outfit you threw together. You’re too busy adjusting and fixing your posture to realize Eddie is practically drooling looking at you. You also don’t even notice how you’ve managed to draw the attention of someone else either.

“Hey,” you hear someone say over the music. You turn to face the voice and you’re met with a guy who looks like he would’ve bullied you in school. This man looks like a former frat boy who never fully grew up. He looks like a jock that would’ve asked you out on a date as a joke or to win a bet. Your guard immediately goes up, bracing yourself for a snarky comment, and your hard instinctively begins to hover over your drink. You move it to your lap so it’s less obvious you're keeping it covered. He doesn’t notice anyways.

“Name’s Dom,” he says over the music. “What’s yours? You offer him your name but it looks like he didn’t fully catch it. He doesn’t ask you to repeat yourself. “Can I buy you a drink?” 

“I have one already, but thanks for the offer,” you respond politely before turning your attention back to Eddie. He’s already got his eyes on you when you look over. You smile, feeling so safe that he’s here. 

“You like one of their groupies or something?” The guy asks, annoyed after your rejection. “You holding out for one of them? Cause I’m doing you a favor coming over here. Most guys aren’t even going to give you a chance.” 

“I have a boyfriend,” you reply, pointing to Eddie. He looks pissed. He’s staring daggers into the guy who’s approached you. You can see Eddie’s knuckles turning white and the way his eyes flared with possessiveness. 

“No offense to him,” the guy scoffs, “but he doesn’t look like he can handle you.” 

“Look, I appreciate the offer for the drink, but I’m just here to watch my boyfriend play. I’m not interested.” 

You hear him mumble an untasteful insult under his breath as he shakes his head and walks away. You aren’t that surprised. Of course the insults come flying out the second he doesn't get what he wants. He assumed you’d be an easy score and he’s mad when you don’t give in immediately. You watch him walk over back to his group of friends. Just in case, you hand your drink back to the bartender and ask for a new one. 

Eddie’s fuming. He couldn’t hear what was said but he had a pretty good idea about what just went down. He’s not mad another guy would approach you, like no shit, he has eyes. He knows what you look like. He also knows he trusts you to shoo them away. He couldn’t help but still feel a little irrationally possessive. He didn’t like the look of that guy, or how he was looking at you, or how what he said was making you clearly uncomfortable. 

When the set ends, a group of people flock over to the side of the small stage. They offer compliments, ask to buy the band a drink, buy a tape, whatever. You beam with pride, incredibly happy that they are enjoying their success and you’re so happy their talent is getting recognized. 

You can tell Eddie is being polite, but he’s directing people to talk to the other guys while he squeezes past them to get to you. It’s a really, really good feeling. He just wants to find you. He strides over to you and you’re a little taken aback by how determined and quick he is to kiss you, but it was very much welcome. He holds your face in his hands and he kisses you like he’s gone weeks without you. 

You sigh happily, and part your lips for him. You feel him step between your legs and he moves his hands to rest on your thighs. It feels electric. You feel your entire body heat at the sensation. You can feel him pressing up against you now, straining against his jeans. He rubs your legs slowly as he slows down his kiss, making it a little more sensual. You love the feeling of his hands caressing you, that you don’t notice until Eddie mumbles an embarrassed yet still aroused so he doesn’t really care “fuck” when he realizes his rings accidentally ripped your tights. He pulls away so you can look at what he did. 

It wasn’t a big deal, it was just a couple of runs that made some holes in the thighs of your tights. They were fishnets so it was inevitable. It wasn’t a big deal. While you look, Eddie is staring so intently at you, his chest rising rapidly as he pants to catch his breath. Pulling away was worse, he realized. He was witness to everything now- your messy hair, your swollen lips, the new holes in your tights… He couldn’t bear it anymore. 

“Let’s go,” he says, eyes pouring into yours so intensely, and it makes you melt like putty in his hands. You couldn’t care less where he was taking you with his hand wrapped securely around your waist as he guided you out the side door. You don’t notice how he looks back and flips off the guy who approached you as he holds open the door for you. When the door closes behind him, his hands are both on your waist again, pulling you flush against his body. 

He leans down to kiss your neck and his hands run up and down your sides, palms running along the contour of your curves. “Mine,” he mumbles against your skin before biting down on the sensitive skin, sure to leave a mark. “All mine,” he murmurs as his hands squeeze your ass. You gasp, surprised at his sudden expression of PDA. You can’t find it in you to care that you're in the alley beside the bar, all you can think about Eddie’s hands, and the way his rings are leaving goosebumps on your skin as he rubs your back from underneath your shirt. 

He loves the little sounds you make when you react to his touch. It makes his chest swell knowing he’s the one that makes you feel good, he’s the one who gets to touch you like this. It makes him more daring. 

“E-Eddie,” you shiver, a mixed reaction to his touch and also the nights cool air when it hits your skin. 

“C’mon,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck as he gently pulls you towards his van. With one swift kick in the right spot, the back door swings open for him so he doesn’t even need to take his hands off of you. 

”The guys will be in there turning their livers yellow for hours,” he jokes. “M’lady.” He gestures for you to climb into the back of his van. You roll your eyes, but happily oblige. He shamelessly checks out your ass as you crawl in, noticing the black panties poking out from under your skirt. Closing the door behind him, he runs his hands up the back of your thighs and you moan at the feeling. It was absolutely filthy. 

You feel his large hands take their time admiring your skin and you can feel his eyes burning into you as he stares at how you’re splayed out in front of him. He’s devilishly grinning as he flips up your skirt. As his hands massage the skin of your ass, you feel a snag on your tights and they tear directly across the top of your underwear. 

“Oops,” he says, not even attempting to be convincing. You can hear the smile he’s sporting as your jaw drops in shock that one, Eddie tore your tights and most likely is going to tear your underwear and two, you really fucking liked it. 

“Fuck, look at you,” he marvels, admiring his handy work and you hear him fumble with the buckle of his belt. You press back into him impatiently and Eddie lets out a deep groan. You can feel how hard he is against his boxers and you bite your lip with anticipation. 

“Please,” you whine, desperate for him. It’s at this moment, Eddie has a fleeting thought that he wishes he could somehow take a mental image of this and show the version of him that almost didn’t show up to the lab that first day. How all the fucking torment and isolation in a weird way feels like some sort of trial he had to overcome to get you. A year ago, he was sitting alone in his room getting off and getting high to avoid the feelings of loneliness and now he’s got the sexiest woman he’s ever seen pressing herself against him begging for him to fuck her. Funny how things work out sometimes. And in Eddie’s case, about damn time. 

You feel the weight of his rings dig into your skin as his fingers pull your panties to the side. You moan involuntarily when you feel his long fingers slide into your folds, and you swear you hear him marveling at the sensation of you. It’s like this hasn’t happened dozens of times before- it’s like the first time over and over again. 

It’s not until you feel like putty from your first orgasm does Eddie even think about fucking you. It’s when you’re completely blissed out from the way his fingers pulled you apart that he finally gives in to your pleas.

He’s hands hold your sides, fingertips digging into your love handles. Before Eddie, you would’ve been self-conscious, but he’s shown you that not only are they okay, they’re sexy. He loves to hold your sides, and feel your soft skin as he fucks you. He praises and worships every part of you. Everything you’ve tried to hide, he naturally gravitates towards, making you feel so overwhelmingly loved. 

It’s crazy to think about it this way when what the two of you were doing was downright filthy. Eddie has his jeans tugged halfway down his thighs, sweat gathering at his brow and has you bent over in the back of his van. You’re making no attempt to stifle your moans and you let your body rocks back into him as he stretches you. It’s probably the most desperate you’ve both been- all the times before have been lighthearted, romantic, lovemaking. This? Definitely not that. But equally as passionate. 

“Fuck, you look so good,” Eddie praises, marveling at the sight of you in front of him. He groans, watching his length pump in and out of your pussy. He bites his lip, his eyes roaming down your back, just taking in the sight of you like this- laid out and completely wrecked for him. “Feel so tight,” he moans. 

You can hardly talk as his thrusts become more desperate. You feel the all too familiar warmth begin to swell up through you body. You whine almost pathetically, and it encourages Eddie to keep his pace, emboldened with his desire to make your cum again before he finishes. You gasp, his name repeatedly falling from your lips as the sensation takes over your whole body. When your orgasm ripples out, you can feel yourself become shaky, very tired from the sensation. 

Eddie grip on your tightens and you can tell he’s close. You beg him to finish inside of you, and he swear you hear him almost fumble, entirely overwhelmed with you. He lets his head fall back as he gives into the feeling. He praises you as he finishes, panting how much he loves you, how good you feel. When he pulls out, he bends over and rests his forehead on your back and catches his breath, breathing heavy but still affectionately leaving kisses on your warm skin. 

“You’re incredible,” he sighs against your skin. He collapses next to you and pulls you into his side. “Fuck,” he exclaims, grinning from ear to ear. He kisses your forehead, stroking your arm affectionately. 

He kisses you again and helps you to clean up. He sheepishly apologizes for the huge tears in your tights. You tell him not to worry about it. You can’t find it in you to care about them even a little bit. 

He helps you into the passenger seat, and kisses your temple. He leans into your touch when your hands cup his face. “I promise I’ll get this shit loaded up fast,” he promises as he realizes the guys will be getting ready to bring out their equipment soon. “I told them they couldn’t bum a ride, I wanted to drive home just us. So, you have me all to yourself,” he teases. 

“Can I pick the music?” You counter, eyebrow raised. He nods, kissing you again quickly before you watch him disappear back into the club to help the guys load the van. You rest your head on your shoulder, sinking into the seat, knowing you need to rest up for the continuation of tonight’s events when Eddie gets you both back to your place. 

TAGS:

@eddiemxnsonlvr @sisinyeli-blog @woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction @ali-r3n @cherrycolas-things @hellfirebabe666 @trixyvixx @stardancerluv @i--wont-run-this-time @mewchiili @muamazon4 @1975lily @sadbitchfangirl @strangerthings36 @fanficfanatic000 @sosawmeinhalf @animechick555 @hellv1ra @neewtmas

[luxcuriousao3]

Dove (A Zombie!Ghost Story) Chapter Eleven

Summary: “You want me to read to you?” She asked after a moment of hesitation, reluctantly accepting the book. Simon nodded, embarrassed but refusing to show it. What he really wanted was for her to teach him to read again, but that was too much to ask for. So he’d settle for the sweet sound of her voice telling him stories. Word Count: 2413 Warnings: vaguely erotic candy sharing, mentions of past abuse, mostly just fluff tbh (this story has a surprising amount of fluff for being set in a literal zombie apocalypse) Notes: Sorry about not updating last week--I was on vacation and had forgotten my laptop. I have also decided I will be posting on Sundays from now on. Hopefully still once a week, but I'm running out of pre-written chapters, and with the semester starting again soon, I am not sure how much time I will have for writing. I've also been struggling a bit with motivation. All dividers were made by @/sweetmelodygraphics (original post here). The zombie divider indicates the text below is Ghost's POV, the dove divider inidcates Lelia's POV. The combined dove and zombie divider represents a time skip but not a POV change. I still have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Also, the poems referenced in this chapter are, in order of appearance: i am at the bottom by Innokenty Annensky (translation by R.H. Morrison), Invictus by William Ernest Henry, and i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart) by E.E. Cummings. AO3, Masterlist

When the sun began to cast its weak winter light into the bedroom, Ghost carefully untangled himself from his dove, smoothing a hand over her hair before leaving to check the kitchen. He found a single box of stale cereal, already open and mostly empty. It wasn’t enough. He cast a glance outside, at the knee high snow drifts. There was no way she could go out to search for supplies. He would have to leave her behind and search himself. He was far from pleased with that, but especially since he hadn't yet had the chance to clear the village, but he didn’t have much of a choice. At least she would be safer in the house than she was the tree.

Taking advantage of the mixing bowls and pots left behind, Ghost collected freshly fallen snow in every single one he could find, then brought them back inside to melt. That was the one good thing about the snow. For as long as it was clean, Lelia could drink it.

“Simon?”

He heard his dove calling him from the bedroom, and he grunted loudly to let her know he was still here. A second later, little footsteps padded into the kitchen to join him. Her long hair was mussed from sleep, and a thick quilt was wrapped around her shoulders like a cape, dwarfing her small frame. He wondered if she’d look just as tiny wearing nothing but his shirt. Innocent and soft with sleep, just begging to be lifted up onto the table so he could spread her legs and ravish her…

Ghost looked away quickly. He couldn’t think like that. Especially not after what she’d confided in him last night.

Last night, when he had cradled her close, and she'd let him touch her face with the same reverence she did his whenever she brushed his teeth. When he’d leaned their foreheads together, her hot breath misting over his face. Her pink, pouty lips had been so close, close enough to touch his own… if he’d had any.

“Good morning,” his dove yawned as she approached, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Simon stiffened, before automatically hugging her back. He couldn’t kiss her, couldn’t make love to her, but he could treasure every touch she gave him, just like he’d promised himself he would last night.

He slowly, painstakingly uttered a garbled ‘Good morning, Dove,’ back. It sounded more like an animal dying, but Lelia beamed up at him anyway, cheeks pink.

“I bet if we found a way to fix your jaw, you’d be able to speak clearly,” she said, reaching up to carefully hold his hanging jaw in place. The broken bones grinded against each other, and his teeth clacked together loudly. His dove rubbed her fingers against his skin soothingly, even though she knew by now that he didn't feel pain. She sighed. “But I have no idea how we’d go about doing that.”

He covered her hand with his, squeezing it gently before pulling it away from his face. His jaw flopped open grotesquely, but Lelia didn't flinch. It warmed something inside him.

Keeping a hold of her hand, he led her over to the table, which was loaded up with bowls, pots, and even mugs full of half melted snow. Her eyes brightened, and he didn't have to tell her what they were for. She grabbed the closest mug and downed its slushy contents, smacking her lips and shivering afterwards. Ghost chuckled, and she grinned cheekily at him. Christ, he swore that one of these days, her smile would restart his heart.

Ghost returned to his dove after several hours spent combing the village for supplies. He’d not gone far, so he’d only managed to clear a small part of it, but he was unwilling to leave her alone for any longer than he had to.

He knocked on the locked door three times, paused, and then twice more. After a moment, Lelia opened it, still wrapped in her blanket, and he stepped inside, stomping on the floor to shake the snow from his boots.

“Did you find anything?” She asked, and Ghost would have grinned if he could. He swung the rucksack off his shoulder and reached inside, pulling out a candy bar and presenting it to her. Her face lit up, eyes bright, and she threw herself at him in a hug. He chuckled and hugged her back for a few seconds before gently pushing her away, not wanting to get her wet.

He hadn’t found much else—just a couple cans of food, and a new torch—but he tried not to let his worry show, not wanting to ruin the small moment of happiness for her. She’d already ripped open the silvery wrapper, and she took a big bite, moaning in delight at the taste. Ghost wrangled his depraved thoughts, morbidly glad that his cock couldn't twitch and give him away.

Lelia savored the bite of chocolate, caramel, and peanuts for a long moment, eyes closed and expression one of bliss. Simon savored her in turn, the upward tilt of her lips, the chocolate smeared on her chin, and the sticky, smacking noises of her chewing. Her joy was sweeter to him than any candy could ever hope to be.

Finally, Lelia swallowed, opening her eyes again as she broke off a small piece, holding it up to his mouth.

“I know human food doesn’t… fuel you,” she started, and he tried not to laugh again at the careful way she phrased it. “But does it still taste good, at least?”

Ghost eyed the piece of candy skeptically. He couldn’t recall ever trying regular food after turning. He didn’t think he’d ever even thought of it—the craving for flesh was far too strong.

He couldn’t smell the sugary sweetness of the candy bar, but it did look appealing. Or perhaps it was his dove’s chocolate covered fingers that had him beginning to drool…

Before he could turn away, she popped the piece of candy into his mouth, holding it there. She set the rest of the bar down on the table and reached up with her other hand, gently grabbing his broken jaw and beginning to move it up and down, helping him chew. Simon stared at her, his ruined brain lagging like a shitty computer—even as his tongue greedily lapped at her skin, ignoring the candy entirely. Lelia blushed, and that sweet, musky scent of her arousal soon filled the air.

“Do you like it?” She asked, her voice slightly breathy. Simon nodded, practically in a trance, and quickly swallowed the candy. He reached up to hold onto her wrist, though, keeping her fingers in his mouth and he methodically licked each digit clean. She gasped quietly, but didn’t pull away, big doe eyes looking straight into his own.

He stopped himself before he began to slobber all over her palm like a dog—or worse, try to take a bite. Lelia shivered when the cold air hit her spit-soaked skin, and he grabbed a rag from the kitchen sink, beginning to clean it for her. The two of them stood in slightly awkward silence, until she picked up the candy bar and took another—much smaller—bite, and hummed happily.

“Thank you, Simon,” she said, voice earnest and grateful. “I needed this. I needed something good.”

The corner of her lips quirked up in a smile again.

“I’ll have to figure out a way to repay you,” she said, voice soft and teasing. “What would you like? A filet mignon? Baked Alaska?”

“A blowie?” Johnny's voice echoed in his head, whiny in a playful way. It sounded less like an interjection this time, and more like a memory. “C’mon, Si, ye owe me fer tha’ bit o’ friendly fire! Nearly took me bollocks off!”

Ghost tried to cling onto the strange memory, to examine it further, but it slipped away like water through a sieve. He focused back on the present, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully before nodding at his dove. There was something that he’d been wanting to ask her…

He stepped closer, reaching into the breast pocket of her leather jacket and pulling out a small book. The cover was red and made of worn leather, with faded, gilded letters embossed on the front. She sucked in a startled breath. Clearly she hadn’t realized he’d known about the book she always carried around, never taking it out in front of him. He felt a bit bad, guessing it was supposed to be a secret—but she’d offered. He opened it to a random page and held it out to her, unable to meet her eyes.

“You want me to read to you?” She asked after a moment of hesitation, reluctantly accepting the book. Simon nodded, embarrassed but refusing to show it. What he really wanted was for her to teach him to read again, but that was too much to ask for. So he’d settle for the sweet sound of her voice telling him stories.

“Alright…” she trailed off nervously. She took his hand and began to pull him over to the couch. She was stalling, that much was clear. “Let's get comfortable, first.”

He let her sit him down, let her take his wet boots off—resolutely ignoring the dirty thoughts that stirred at seeing her on her knees in front of him—let her fluff up the pillows and arrange them just right before curling up on the opposite end of the couch, book in her lap. He sat patiently as she stared down at it for a long moment, working up her courage. And when she finally opened it again, he leaned forward, full of anticipation as she flipped through the pages.

“Most of this book is in Russian,” she admitted. He blinked in surprise, and she huffed a little laugh. “It’s my first language. My parents were displeased by that. I was their own fault for letting my governess raise me all by herself, though.”

She shook her head, stopping at a page a third of the way into the book.

“My first word was яблоня. The Russian word for apple,” she told him, a small, sad smile on her face. “It’s what I named my teddy bear. I kept that bear until Andrew threw it away on our we— I mean… well. Until Andrew threw it away.”

On our wedding night.

The missing words were easy enough to fill in. Simon remembered the time she’d almost spoken about a husband. He remembered how disgruntled he’d been by the thought that she was married. How jealous. Now, he only felt a simmering rage in his chest, like a false heartbeat. If he ever laid eyes on Lelia’s husband, he’d tear him apart.

“Anyway,” she whispered, delicately learning her throat and quickly moving on, clearly not wanting to be questioned about her slip. “I’ve translated some of them, or at least my favorite stanzas. I’ll read you one of those.”

Poems? He thought curiously, eyes on her as he listened with rapt attention. Of course she liked poetry. Pretty words with hidden depths. Just like her.

Then, she began to read.

“I am at the bottom; I am a sorrowful

Fragment; above me the water is shimmering

Green. Out of the heavy glass darkness

There are no roads for anyone to anywhere…”

“I didn't always like that one,” she admitted into the silence that followed. Simon was still digesting the poem, his ears ringing a little bit. The words had touched something deep inside him, whispering of memories just out of reach. “But that was because I didn’t understand it, then.”

He grunted, moving a little closer to her and tapping the book.

“Another?” She asked, surprised. He nodded, and she blushed, looking unsure. “I don't know… I don’t want to bore you…”

Ghost gave her an unimpressed look and just tapped the book again, a little harder this time.

“Fine, fine,” she huffed, but he could see the slight amusement in her eyes. She flipped through the book for a moment before stopping, dragging her fingertip down the page. She was quiet for a moment, eyes flickering over the lines, before speaking again. “This one… this one is one of my favorites. It’s not a translation. Just an English classic.”

“Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds and shall find me unafraid.”

There were tears in his dove’s eyes by the time she finished, and Simon reached out to wipe away one that slipped down her cheek. She let out a little embarrassed laugh, ducking her head and scrubbing at her face.

“Sorry,” she whispered, closing the book. “That one always makes me emotional.”

He could guess why. He only knew an inkling of what she had been through, but that was enough. That she was still standing at all was proof of how strong she was, in his opinion. Bloody but unbowed indeed.

Simon managed to convince her to keep going, and at some point over the last hour, his head had ended up in her lap as he laid down across the couch. She carded her fingers through his hair as she read aloud, choosing her favorites—but avoiding any that she herself had written. They were far too embarrassing.

Had she not known better, she would have thought Simon was asleep. His eyes were closed, a deep, content rumbling echoing from his chest. She had to stop herself from giggling when she realized how much he resembled a cat, like that.

“And this is the secret that’s keeping the stars apart,” Lelia recited the last two lines of what had been her favorite love poem for most of her life. She wasn’t even looking at the book anymore, her soft gaze focused on Simon, eyes tracing the features of his mask. She wished he would let her see under it. She wouldn’t flinch away from whatever she found—nothing could make her see him as anything other than beautiful, not anymore. “I carry your heart; I carry it in my heart.”

[elysiaheaven]

𝐆𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮-𝟎.𝟐-𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃-𝐘𝐚𝐧.𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐱 𝐟.𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Header created by @𝓶𝓸𝓲𝓶𝓸𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓮

Words:6000

TW:Mentions of hickey/slight sfw

As you begin to stir, the warmth of the fire and the weight of sleep slowly lifting, you become aware of a peculiar sensation. Your eyes flutter open, and the first thing you notice is the firm, warm surface beneath you. You lift your head, blinking in confusion, and your heart skips a beat as you realize you're lying on top of Sunday, who is very much shirtless.

His chest rises and falls steadily, his eyes still closed, a serene expression on his face. The proximity, the intimacy of the situation, sends a wave of heat rushing to your cheeks. You feel your face flush bright red, and your immediate reaction is to scramble off him as quickly as possible.

You manage to jump out of bed, your movements jerky and panicked. You stand there, flustered and breathless, trying to make sense of how you ended up in such a compromising position. Sunday's eyes open slowly, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he props himself up on one elbow.

"Good morning," he says, his voice a soft, teasing drawl. "Did you sleep well?"

You struggle to find your voice, still mortified by the situation. "I— I didn't mean to—" you stammer, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Sunday chuckles, clearly amused by your reaction. "It's alright," he says soothingly. "You must have moved in your sleep. No harm done."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I'm sorry," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sits up fully now, his bare chest still on display, and swings his legs over the side of the bed. "No need to apologize," he says, standing up and stretching. "I quite enjoyed it, actually."

You avert your eyes, feeling even more embarrassed. "I should go," you say quickly, turning towards the door.

Before you can take a step, Sunday is beside you, his hand gently catching your arm. "Wait," he says, his tone softening. "Don't go. I wanted to talk to you."

You glance up at him, trying to keep your emotions in check. "What is it?"

He smiles, his eyes warm and sincere. "I've been thinking about what you said, about not wanting to kiss until marriage. I respect that." His gaze softens further, and he adds, "I want you to feel comfortable with me, to trust me."

You nod, feeling a strange mixture of relief and apprehension. "Thank you," you say, grateful for his understanding but still wary of his intentions.

Sunday releases your arm and steps back, giving you some space. "I've prepared something special for us " he says, changing the subject. "I think you'll like it."

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. "Alright," you say, your curiosity piqued despite everything. "What is it?"

He smiles, a hint of mystery in his eyes. "It's a surprise," he says simply. "But first, let's get some breakfast. You must be hungry."

You nod, realizing that you are indeed quite hungry. "Okay," you agree, allowing him to lead you towards the dining room.

As you walk through the palace, your mind races with thoughts and plans. The strange compulsion you felt earlier, the eerie emptiness of this world, and Sunday's possessive yet gentle demeanor all weigh heavily on your mind. You need to stay vigilant, to keep up the act while you search for a way out.

Sunday's world may be beautiful, but it is still a prison. 

As you walk through the palace with Sunday, you feel his hand gently brush against yours. You try to focus on the path ahead, but you can't shake the feeling of his gaze lingering on you. You know you need to keep up the act, to convince him of your loyalty, but it's becoming increasingly difficult.

As you approach the dining room, Sunday suddenly leans in and places a soft kiss on your cheek. The unexpected touch sends a jolt through you, and you jump back like a startled mouse, nearly stumbling in the process.

"Sorry," you mumble, your face flushing with embarrassment. "You just... caught me off guard."

Sunday chuckles, his amusement evident. "You're so adorable when you're flustered," he says, his tone light and teasing. "But don't worry, you'll get used to it."

You force a smile, trying to hide your discomfort. As you sit down to breakfast, your mind races with thoughts of how difficult it is to keep up this facade. Sunday's manipulative tactics, his constant attempts to get closer to you, are wearing you down. You need to stay strong, to remember your goal.

After breakfast, Sunday suggests a bath. You feel your heart skip a beat, knowing how intimate such an activity would be. "No, I... I don't think that's a good idea," you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

He tilts his head, a thoughtful look on his face. "I understand," he says slowly. "How about this? We can turn off the lights and wear some bathing clothes. It will be less intimidating that way."

You hesitate, feeling trapped by his suggestion. It seems like a reasonable compromise, but you know he's trying to manipulate the situation to get closer to you. You need to find a way to maintain your boundaries while keeping up the act.

"Alright," you say reluctantly, hoping this will satisfy him without compromising your own comfort too much. "But we keep the lights off and wear clothes."

Sunday smiles, clearly pleased with your agreement. "Of course," he says, his tone warm and reassuring. "I want you to feel comfortable."

He leads you to the bathroom, where the large, luxurious tub is already filled with steaming water. He hands you a modest bathing suit, and you step into a nearby changing room to put it on. As you change, you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the next challenge.

When you return, the bathroom is dark, lit only by a few flickering candles. Sunday is already in the tub, wearing his own bathing suit. He looks up at you, his expression inviting. "Come on in," he says softly.

You step into the tub, the warm water enveloping you. Despite the darkness, you can still feel Sunday's presence next to you, his proximity making you uneasy. You sit as far from him as possible, trying to maintain some semblance of personal space.

Sunday doesn't seem to mind. He leans back, sighing contentedly. "Isn't this nice?" he asks, his voice low and soothing. "Just the two of us, relaxing together."

You nod, though your mind is racing. You need to stay focused, to keep up the act while you search for a way to escape. "Yes, it's... nice," you say, forcing a smile.

Sunday shifts closer, his movements gentle but deliberate. You feel his hand brush against yours under the water, and you resist the urge to pull away. "You know," he says softly, "I think we're getting closer. I feel like I'm finally starting to understand you."

You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. "Yes, I think so too."

He smiles, his eyes softening. "I want you to be happy here," he says. "I want us to be happy together."

You nod, feeling the weight of his words. "I know," you say softly. "I'm trying."

As the bath continues, you do your best to keep up the act, responding to Sunday's gentle touches and soothing words with feigned affection. But inside, your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and plans. You need to stay strong, to find a way out of this nightmare.

As you step out of the tub and begin to dry off, you notice Sunday's eyes following your every move. You know he likes things to be clean for some reason, his need for control and cleanliness manifesting in ways that often make you uncomfortable. It's another layer of his obsession, another tool he uses to manipulate and maintain his hold over you.

Sunday's voice breaks through your thoughts. "I noticed you missed a spot," he says gently, reaching for a cloth. "Let me help you."

You hesitate, feeling a knot of tension tighten in your stomach. Before you can protest, he steps closer, his presence overwhelming. He starts to gently scrub your arm with the cloth, his touch lingering.

"You're always so tense," he murmurs, his lips dangerously close to your neck. "I just want you to feel clean, safe."

You nod, forcing yourself to stay still, even as your instincts scream at you to pull away. "Thank you," you say quietly, trying to keep your voice steady.

As he continues to clean you, his hands move with methodical precision, each touch deliberate. The cloth slides across your skin, and you can feel the intensity of his gaze, the weight of his obsession pressing down on you. His hands move to your shoulders, and he leans in, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. You flinch slightly but manage to stay composed.

"Shh," he whispers, his lips brushing against your skin. "Just relax. I'm here."

His kisses trail up your neck, moving to your ear. You can feel his breath, warm and intimate, sending shivers down your spine. He kisses your earlobe, his lips soft and insistent. It takes every ounce of willpower to keep your composure, to not let him see the turmoil inside you.

"See?" he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. "Isn't this nice? Just you and me, no worries, no distractions."

You nod weakly, unable to find your voice. His hands move down your arms, his touch lingering on your wrists, his need for control evident in every gesture.

Sunday continues to touch you, his actions driven by both his OCD and his obsession with you. It feels like a violation, his need to clean you an excuse to get closer, to reinforce his control. You focus on your breathing, reminding yourself to stay calm, to keep up the act.

Finally, Sunday seems satisfied. He steps back, his eyes lingering on you with a mixture of adoration and possessiveness. "There," he says softly. "All clean."

You manage a small smile, hiding your true feelings behind a mask of gratitude. "Thank you," you say, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

Sunday smiles, clearly pleased with himself. "Anything for you," he says, his tone sincere. "I want to take care of you, always."

You nod, feeling the weight of his words. "I know," you say softly. "I appreciate it."

As you finish drying off and changing back into your clothes, you remind yourself of your goal. You need to stay focused, to keep up the act while you search for a way to escape. Sunday's obsessive behavior is just another obstacle, another challenge you must endure.

You will find a way out of this nightmare, no matter what it takes. For now, you will continue to play along, biding your time and gathering information, all while keeping the hope of freedom alive in your heart.

As you dry off and wrap the towel around yourself, you turn to Sunday, forcing a smile. "I'm going to dress alone, if that's alright," you say, trying to keep your tone light and casual.

Sunday nods, though you can see a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. "Of course," he says, his voice gentle. "Take your time."

You step into the changing room, closing the door behind you with a sigh of relief. For a moment, you just stand there, trying to steady your breathing. The events of the morning have left you feeling shaken and vulnerable, but you know you need to stay focused.

As you begin to dress, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your eyes widen in shock as you notice the mark on your neck—Sunday's hickey, a dark bruise standing out starkly against your skin. You reach up, fingers brushing over the spot, feeling a mix of anger and helplessness.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside you. This mark is another reminder of his control, another violation of your boundaries. But you can't let it break you. You need to stay strong, to keep up the act until you can find a way to escape.

Dressed now, you step back from the mirror, composing yourself. You smooth your clothes and force a neutral expression onto your face. You can't let Sunday see how much his actions affect you. You need to play the part of the compliant, grateful captive.

Opening the door, you step back into the main room. Sunday is waiting for you, his expression warm and welcoming. "You look lovely," he says, his eyes lingering on you.

"Thank you," you reply, managing a small smile. You walk over to him, keeping your movements calm and controlled.

Sunday reaches out and takes your hand, his touch gentle but possessive. "I have something special planned for us today," he says, his voice filled with anticipation. "I think you'll enjoy it."

You nod, keeping your smile in place. "I'm looking forward to it."

He leads you out of the bathroom, his hand never leaving yours. As you walk through the grand halls of the palace, you can't help but feel a sense of dread mixed with determination. You need to stay vigilant, to find any opportunity to gather information or plan your escape.

Sunday's world may be beautiful and meticulously crafted, but it is still a prison. And you are determined to find a way to break free. For now, you will continue to play your part, keeping Sunday's trust while you silently plan your next move.

You walk through the grand halls, Sunday's grip on your hand is firm yet gentle. He leads you to a large window, overlooking the snow-covered landscape outside. The scene is serene and beautiful, yet it only heightens your sense of isolation.

Sunday turns to you, his eyes softening. "I need to go away for a while to prepare something special for us," he says, his voice filled with excitement and mystery. "You're free to explore any place outside. Enjoy the grounds, the gardens, anything you like."

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of freedom, but then his expression turns serious. "However, there is one place you must not go," he continues, his tone darkening. "The Temple of Ena, the Aeon of Order. It's forbidden. If you go there, I will have no choice but to punish you."

You nod, trying to mask your curiosity and anxiety. "I understand," you say softly, forcing a smile. "I won't go there."

Sunday's gaze lingers on you for a moment, as if assessing your sincerity. Then he nods, satisfied. "Good," he says, his smile returning. "I'll be back soon."

With that, he gives your hand a final squeeze before letting go and walking away, leaving you standing by the window. You watch him until he disappears from view, your mind racing with thoughts and possibilities.

The Temple of Ena. It must be important if he's so adamant about keeping you away from it. Perhaps it holds the key to understanding this world, or even a way to escape. You know the risk is high, but you also know you can't let this opportunity pass.

Determined, you take a deep breath and head towards the exit. The cold air hits you as you step outside, the snow crunching beneath your feet. The palace grounds are vast and beautiful, but your focus is on finding the temple.

You wander through the gardens and along the pathways, keeping an eye out for any signs of the temple. Eventually, you spot a path leading deeper into the woods, a sense of purpose guiding your steps.

As you walk, the trees grow denser, and the path becomes less defined. The air is crisp and silent, the only sound the soft crunch of snow underfoot. Finally, you see it—a grand, ancient structure, partially hidden by the trees. The Temple of Ena.

Your heart races as you approach, your curiosity and determination outweighing your fear. The temple is imposing, its architecture both beautiful and intimidating. You can feel a strange energy emanating from it, a sense of power and order.

You step closer, your hand reaching out to touch the cold stone of the temple walls. As you do, you hear a soft whisper, as if the temple itself is speaking to you. You can't make out the words, but the tone is inviting, almost comforting.

Summoning your courage, you push open the heavy doors and step inside. The interior is vast and echoing, filled with intricate carvings and statues. In the center of the temple, a large altar stands, surrounded by flickering candles.

As you move closer to the altar, you feel a sense of awe and reverence. The temple seems to hum with energy, and you can't shake the feeling that you're being watched. You approach the altar, your eyes drawn to a large, ornate book resting on it.

You reach out and open the book, its pages filled with ancient symbols and texts. As you try to decipher the writing, you hear a voice behind you, startling you.

"You were warned not to come here," the voice says, filled with both disappointment and a hint of admiration.

"I was just.."

He leads you out of the temple, his grip on your hand firm yet reassuring. As you walk back towards the palace.

You follow Sunday back toward the palace, your mind racing with thoughts about the temple and the possible secrets it holds. You need to go back and explore it further, but you know you must be careful. Sunday's suspicion could jeopardize everything.

As you walk, Sunday stops and turns to you, his eyes narrowing. "You seemed very eager to explore earlier," he says, a hint of suspicion in his voice. "Are you hiding something from me?"

Your heart skips a beat. You know you have to act quickly, to distract him and divert his attention. You take a deep breath, then step closer to him, letting a seductive smile curve your lips. "I was just curious," you say softly, looking up at him through your lashes. "I wanted to see everything this world has to offer. Including you."

Sunday's eyes flicker with surprise and something else—interest, perhaps. He raises an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Is that so?" he murmurs, his suspicion seeming to wane slightly.

You nod, maintaining your seductive demeanor. "Yes," you whisper, stepping even closer, your body brushing against his. "I wanted to be closer to you."

His smile widens, but there's still a glint of doubt in his eyes. "Prove it," he says softly, leaning in. "Kiss me."

You swallow hard, your mind racing. You lean in and press a quick, small kiss to his lips, hoping it will be enough to satisfy him. But as you pull back, you see that he's not happy. His eyes darken, and he shakes his head.

"No," he says firmly, his voice low and intense. "That's not how it's done."

Before you can react, Sunday cups your face in his hands and pulls you closer. His lips capture yours in a deep, demanding kiss, his breath warm and insistent. The intensity of the kiss takes you by surprise, but you know you have to go along with it. You close your eyes and try to relax into the kiss, matching his passion.

His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you even closer. The kiss grows more heated, his need for control evident in every movement. You feel a strange mix of emotions—fear, confusion, and something else you can't quite identify.

When he finally pulls back, you're breathless and slightly disoriented. Sunday's eyes bore into yours, a satisfied smile on his lips. "That's how it's done," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You nod, trying to steady your breathing. "I understand," you say softly, your voice trembling slightly. "I'll remember that."

Sunday's smile widens, and he brushes a strand of hair away from your face. "Good," he says. "I want you to feel connected to me, to trust me."

You force a smile, hiding your true feelings. "I do," you say, trying to sound sincere. "I trust you."

He seems satisfied with your response and takes your hand again, leading you back toward the palace. As you walk, you can't help but feel a sense of dread mixed with determination. You need to find a way to explore the temple further, to uncover the secrets it holds. But for now, you'll have to keep playing along, biding your time and waiting for the right moment to make your move.

Inside the palace, Sunday finally releases your hand. "I'll be in my study for a while, preparing our surprise," he says, his eyes softening as he looks at you. "Feel free to explore, but remember what I said about the temple."

You nod, managing another smile. "I'll remember," you say, your mind already working on a plan.

As Sunday walks away, you take a deep breath, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. You need to be careful, to avoid arousing his suspicion again. But you also need to find a way to return to the temple, to uncover whatever secrets it holds.  

You are so naive...I won't punish you...I use it to my advantage.

After Sunday leaves, you stand alone in the grand hallway, the weight of his touch still lingering on your skin. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart and clear your mind. You know you have to be smart about this—Sunday's suspicion could derail your plans if you're not careful.

As you turn to head towards your room, Sunday's voice calls out from behind you. You turn to see him approaching, a smile on his face and something small in his hand. "I almost forgot," he says, holding out your phone. "I thought you might want this back. But remember, there's no signal here, no internet. It's just for you to use as a camera, or maybe listen to some music."

You take the phone from him, forcing a grateful smile. "Thank you," you say softly, trying to hide your disappointment. The phone feels like a lifeline to the outside world, but without internet or signal, it's just another reminder of your isolation.

Sunday nods, his eyes watching you carefully. "I'll leave you to explore now," he says, turning to leave once more. "Just remember what I said about the temple."

"I will," you assure him, clutching the phone tightly in your hand.

As soon as he's out of sight, you make your way to your room, your mind already working on a plan. You need to find a way to explore the temple further without arousing Sunday's suspicion. But first, you sit down on your bed and turn on the phone, checking it thoroughly. As Sunday said, there's no signal, no internet. You try to open a few apps, hoping for some kind of connection, but everything is offline. The phone's camera and music library are the only things that work.

You sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and determination. Even without a connection to the outside world, the phone might still be useful. You can take photos, document what you find, and maybe even use the music to keep yourself calm and focused.

Tucking the phone into your pocket, you stand up and head back out of your room. You need to explore the palace grounds, to familiarize yourself with the area and look for any clues that might help you understand more about this world and the temple.

As you walk through the halls, you take in the intricate details of the palace. The architecture is stunning, every corner filled with art and craftsmanship. Yet, the beauty only heightens the sense of being trapped in a gilded cage.

You make your way outside, the cold air hitting you once more. You wander through the gardens, taking note of landmarks and paths. You find yourself drawn toward the edge of the woods, where the path to the temple begins.

Standing at the edge of the forest, you take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. You know you need to be careful, but you also know you can't let this opportunity pass. Glancing around to make sure you're alone, you step onto the path and begin to make your way toward the temple.

The woods are quiet, the only sound the crunching of snow beneath your feet. As you approach the temple, you feel the same strange energy you felt before, a sense of power and order emanating from the ancient structure.

You reach the temple and push open the heavy doors once more, stepping inside. The interior is just as awe-inspiring as before, filled with intricate carvings and statues. You approach the altar again, your eyes drawn to the large, ornate book resting on it.

This time, you open the book and carefully study the pages, trying to decipher the ancient symbols and texts. You take out your phone and snap photos of the pages, hoping you can find a way to translate them later.

As you work, you hear a faint whispering, almost like the temple itself is speaking to you. You can't make out the words, but the tone is inviting, almost comforting. You close the book and look around, searching for any other clues or hidden passages.

Suddenly, you hear a noise behind you. You spin around, your heart pounding, but see no one. The temple is silent once more. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. You know you need to be quick and thorough.

You continue to explore, taking more photos and searching for anything that might help you understand the temple's secrets. Time seems to slip away as you work, the weight of your situation pressing down on you.

Finally, you step back and take a moment to assess what you've found. You have photos of the book's pages, as well as several carvings and symbols from around the temple. You don't know if it will be enough, but it's a start.

You slip the phone back into your pocket and make your way out of the temple, carefully closing the doors behind you. As you walk back toward the palace, you can't help but feel a sense of determination. You have a plan, and you're gathering the information you need. You just have to stay focused and avoid arousing Sunday's suspicion.

When you reach the palace, you slip inside and make your way back to your room. You sit down on your bed, reviewing the photos on your phone. You know you'll need to find a way to translate the texts and understand the symbols, but for now, you have a glimmer of hope.

You take a deep breath and lie back on your bed, closing your eyes. You need to stay strong, to keep up the act while you search for a way to break free. For now, you'll continue to play your part, keeping Sunday's trust while you silently plan your next move.

As you lie on your bed, reviewing the photos you've taken at the temple, you hear a soft knock on your door. You quickly hide your phone under your pillow and sit up, trying to look composed.

"Come in," you call out, your voice steady.

The door opens, and Sunday steps into the room, a warm smile on his face. He's carrying a small bag and a measuring tape. "I have a surprise for you," he says, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

You force a smile, trying to hide your apprehension. "What kind of surprise?"

Sunday sets the bag down on a nearby chair and approaches you, the measuring tape in his hand. "I need to take some measurements," he explains, his tone light and playful. "Don't worry, it won't take long."

You nod, standing up and smoothing out your clothes. "Alright," you say, trying to sound casual. "What's it for?"

Sunday's smile widens, but he doesn't reveal any details. "You'll see," he says cryptically. "Just trust me."

He starts with your hips, wrapping the measuring tape around you with gentle precision. You stand still, your mind racing with thoughts of the temple and the photos you took earlier.

Sunday's touch is professional, yet there's an underlying possessiveness in his actions. He notes down the measurements, then moves on to your waist, his fingers brushing against your skin through the fabric of your clothes. You suppress a shiver, forcing yourself to stay composed.

"Just a few more measurements," Sunday murmurs, moving the tape to measure your length. He starts from your shoulders, letting the tape fall down to your feet. As he works, you feel a mix of apprehension and curiosity. What is he planning? And how can you use this opportunity to your advantage?

"You have a beautiful figure," he murmurs, almost to himself. "I want this to be perfect."

You force another smile, trying to keep up the facade. "Thank you," you say softly. "I'm curious to see what you're planning."

He looks up, his eyes meeting yours. "It's a surprise," he says again, his smile mischievous. "But I promise, you'll love it."

As he finishes the measurements, he steps back and looks at you with a satisfied expression. "All done," he announces, tucking the measuring tape back into his bag. "I'll get started on it right away."

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. "I can't wait to see it," you say, trying to sound enthusiastic.

Sunday steps closer, his eyes softening. "I want everything to be perfect for you," he says, his voice tender. "You deserve nothing less."

You swallow hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. "Thank you," you whisper, your emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

He reaches out and gently cups your face in his hands, his touch warm and reassuring. "I'll be back soon," he says softly. "In the meantime, feel free to explore the palace. Just remember our little rule about the temple."

You nod, unable to find your voice. He smiles and leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before turning and leaving the room.

As soon as he's gone, you let out a shaky breath and sit down on the bed. You reach under your pillow and pull out your phone, scrolling through the photos once more. You need to stay focused, to keep gathering information and planning your escape.

You take a deep breath and stand up, determined to make the most of your time alone. You'll continue to explore the palace, keeping an eye out for any clues or opportunities that might help you understand more about this world and find a way to break free.

For now, you'll keep playing your part, keeping Sunday's trust while you silently work towards your goal. The gown he's preparing for you might be a symbol of his control, but it also represents your determination to reclaim your freedom. And you won't let anything or anyone stand in your way.

As you explore the palace, trying to keep your mind focused on finding any clues or hidden passages, you hear Sunday's voice call out from behind you once more.

"I almost forgot something important,too..I'm sorry.." he says, approaching with a sheepish smile. "I need to know your shoe size. We can't have you wearing a beautiful gown without the perfect shoes, can we?"

You pause and turn to face him, trying to hide your frustration at the constant interruptions. "I don't remember my exact size," you admit, feeling a bit flustered.

Sunday's eyes light up with an idea. "That's alright," he says. "Let's try a few different sizes until we find the perfect fit."

Before you can protest, he's already leading you to a nearby room filled with various pairs of elegant shoes. He sits you down on a plush chair and kneels in front of you, carefully selecting a pair of shoes and slipping one onto your foot.

You feel a strange mix of emotions as he works. His hands are gentle and precise, his touch sending an unfamiliar warmth through you. It's as if something deep inside you is responding to his attention, making you feel strangely happy and content.

"Try standing up," Sunday suggests, looking up at you with an encouraging smile.

You stand, testing the fit of the shoes. They're a bit tight, so Sunday tries another pair. As he continues to test different sizes, you can't shake the feeling that something is influencing your emotions. It's as if a part of you is being ordered to be perfect for him, to enjoy his attention and care.

Finally, Sunday finds a pair that fits perfectly. He looks up at you, his eyes shining with satisfaction. "These are perfect," he declares, a proud smile on his face. "You look stunning."

You smile back, feeling a strange sense of joy at his approval. "Thank you," you say softly, your voice tinged with genuine gratitude.

Sunday stands and takes your hand, helping you back into the chair. "I want everything to be perfect for you," he says, his voice filled with sincerity. "You deserve nothing less."

You nod, feeling a lump in your throat. "I appreciate it," you whisper, trying to make sense of the conflicting emotions inside you.

He leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, a gesture that sends a shiver down your spine. "I'll leave you to explore now," he says gently. "Just remember our little rule about the temple."

You nod again, managing a small smile. "I will," you promise.

You take a deep breath and stand up, determined to continue exploring the palace. You need to find any clues that might help you understand this world and find a way to break free. As you walk through the grand halls, you can't help but feel a sense of determination mixed with a growing confusion about your own emotions.

The path to the temple feels both familiar and foreboding, the weight of your mission pressing down on your shoulders.

You reach the temple and push open the heavy doors, heart pounding in anticipation. The interior is as eerily beautiful as you remember, the faint glow of candlelight casting intricate shadows on the ancient carvings.

You move cautiously through the temple, following the faint whisper of intuition that guides you toward a corner you hadn't explored before. There, hidden behind a tapestry depicting scenes of order and harmony, you find a small, concealed passage.

With a mixture of excitement and trepidation, you duck through the opening and find yourself in a narrow corridor. The air is cool and musty, the walls adorned with faded paintings and symbols that seem to pulse with ancient energy.

As you navigate the twists and turns of the passage, you come to a small alcove where a figure is huddled, her presence familiar yet unexpected. It's Robin, the bird from your dreams—the one who had spoken to you and urged you to find a way out.

She looks up as you approach, her eyes wide with surprise and hope. "You came," she whispers, her voice barely more than a breath. "I knew you would."

You kneel beside her, heart racing with a mixture of relief and urgency. "Robin," you say softly, reaching out to touch her hand. "I dreamt of you. You told me there was a way to escape."

Robin nods, her expression grave yet determined. "There is," she confirms, her voice steady. "But it won't be easy. The temple guards its secrets fiercely."

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what lies ahead. "I'm willing to try," you say, your voice firm with resolve. "I need to get out of here."

Robin's voice breaks through the fading reality around you, urging urgency. "Sunday may come soon to bring me food. You must go now, and make sure Sunday believes you never came here."

Nodding with determination, you acknowledge Robin's advice, realizing the necessity of ensuring your escape remains undetected. "I understand."

You go away...

.....

"Fufu, Darling...How...could you be so naïve..? You can't escape."

[wands-natsthing]

Sunday Morning

This story was on my old acct @wandanatsthings I made a new one (aka this one) which will be the acct I use from now on.

HI, so this is my first fic and first time writing anything so stay with me lol. I love reading ALL of the wandanat x reader fics on here and I decided that I was gonna try myself. Now I know this isn't great or even good for that matter but it is the start of hopefully a great journey and as time goes on I'll continue to get better fingers crossed. So if you have any tips or feedback please feel free to comment and enjoy. :))

(P.s im dyslexic and grammar isn’t my thing)

Word Count: 960

Warnings: I don't think there are any? maybe religious beliefs but it does not go far in detail. It's really just fluffy.

Summary: Wanda and Natasha surprise you by going to church with you one Sunday.

It was a Sunday morning when you heard the alarm you set the night before go off. The alarm told you It was time to get up and go to church. As you rolled over to turn the alarm off you realized something. Your girlfriends were nowhere to be found. Now I know what you may be thinking. "You're gay and are going to church?" I know that may seem a bit off to some people, but the church is somewhere I've always felt safe. It's where I grew up. Even when I was struggling with my sexuality and homophobia I always felt like I could go to church and feel safe and accepted. It was one of the only places you felt that way besides your girlfriend's arms. Speaking of you still had no idea where they were.

Now it wasn't super early. You weren't one of those people who got up to go to church at the butt crack of dawn. It was only 9 am. That meant Natasha should have been back in bed with you and Wanda from her early morning run by now but she wasn't and you had no idea where Wanda was. You decided to get up and go look for them. You had to get up and get dressed soon anyway so you wouldn’t be late. You listened to see if you heard anyone in the bathroom and you didn’t. So You decided to make your way downstairs.

The closer you got to the stairs you could hear lovers laughing together and the smell of Wanda's pancakes. The sound and the smell put a smile on your face.

You walked down the stairs into the kitchen and before they could see that you were there, you just admired them. Seeing them wrapped up in each other’s arms. Natasha had her arms wrapped around Wanda’s waist while Wanda was at the stove making sure the pancakes wouldn’t burn because Natasha couldn’t cook to save her life. You loved seeing them so domestic. You also took note that Natasha wasn't in her normal morning workout clothes and Wanda wasn't wearing the pajamas from the night before. You didn't have much time to think about it though, because your beautiful witch finally noticed you standing there.

She walk’s toward you with a smile on her face and open arms. “Good Morning detka how did you sleep?” she asked. “I slept okay, I woke up to an empty bed though,” you say pouting. Natasha then comes up behind you wrapping her arms around your waist “Good morning baby” she says with a kiss on your forehead. “I'm sorry you woke up alone, we wanted to make you breakfast and ask you something. Isn't that right wands?’ Wanda looks up at you and nods saying “that is right love.” You notice they're looking at each other the way they do when they have something planned. “ You two are up to something,” you say, giving them a look. “Yes but you will find out after breakfast now let's go eat,” says Wanda.

You all follow Wanda to the dining room table with plates of pancakes in hand, you sit down in the seat you always do with Natasha at the head of the table you to her left and Wanda across from you to her right. While you guys are eating you pay more attention to their outfits. Natasha had on a white dress shirt and black slacks. While Wanda had on about the same thing just with an added suit jacket. They both looked nice you thought but you couldn't help but wonder where they were going dressed like that. You couldn't remember them telling you that they had anything planned this morning. So you decide to ask them. “Hey guys are you going anywhere this morning? You look nice” You see them turn to look at each other with smiles on their faces. Wanda is the one to speak up. “Actually yes detka, we were wondering if we could accompany you today at church?” They both look at you with hopeful glints in their eyes.

Now neither one of them was religious in any kind of way but that didn't stop them from letting you go church at all, you never even really talked about it besides them asking you how it went every time you got home. You never invited them simply because you didn't think that they would want to come, but hearing that they were asking you to come made your heart melt. You loved that they were taking an interest in something that meant so much to you. In something that made you who you are. “Detka '' You hear them say in your midst of awing. You snap out of it and say “Yes, Yes I would love for you to come with me’ ‘But are you sure I know you guys aren't religious like that.” “We are so sure sweet girl, we want to see the place that makes you feel safe and the place that makes you, and that brings that smile to your face every Sunday” Natasha says. Wanda then goes on to say “ yes exactly what Tasha said we want the experience and would love to go with you.” You start to tear up at their words you couldn't believe it. “ You don't know how much this means to me. I love you guys so much " And we love you too,” they both say. You all get up and hug each other so tight with smiles on your faces. You look up at them and say “I thank God every day for the love that we share and I will forever cherish it."

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What do you guys think? lemme know!