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#I say that but I know I’ll be upset if I’m told it is
ovaryacted · 10 hours
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MDNI/18+. NSFW. CW: smutty thoughts, collar usage, pet play vibes, dom/sub dynamics.
Typing this fast as fuck while I’m at work so I apologize if there are any typos. I gotta get this out. Don’t jump me pleak.
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Something something, Logan coming home from being out all day just to get hit with your bratty attitude. You’ve been irritated for the past few days, you don’t even know why you’re upset to begin with, but just that you’ve been on edge. Every time Logan tries to get you to talk about it, you shrug or brush him off, and he’s not the type to intrude so he gives you your space and leaves you alone in the meantime.
Well today he’s had it.
With a hand on your bicep, he brings you to the living room, plops down in front of you and orders you to go into the closet and bring out your collar including the leash.
You had half a mind to argue with him, but the look on his face told you he wasn’t in the mood for backtalk. So you follow through on his order, coming back into the living room and handing him the collar with a pout. Your knees hit the floor soon after, his thick fingers move to click the collar around your neck, making sure it was snug against your skin, the feel of it keeping you grounded.
With one hand, he tugs on the leash, wrapping it tight in his fist and holds your face by pinching your cheeks, forcing you to look at him in the eye.
“You’re going to sit there and think about how you’re acting, and when you’re done being a fucking brat, you talk to me. Got it?”
You nod without saying a word, kneeling in front of Logan while he reaches for the remote to turn the TV on, putting something for background noise.
Thirty minutes pass by and Logan’s eyes never left the TV screen. The more you stayed situated on the ground and the less attention you got from Logan, the quicker the frustration dissipated until you’re leaning against his leg. Anger and irritation no longer in your body once you nuzzle your head against Logan’s knee, the inner parts of you craving affection, something to hold you together.
His heavy palm comes to stroke the top of your head, a hum spilling out of your lips as he did. Your eyes flutter closed, a gentle pull on your leash brings your head lifting up to look at him, your sight lining up with hazel irises.
“Are you done throwing a hissy fit?”
His tone wasn’t as sharp as before, and your nod this time around wasn’t as coordinated, mind slowly reaching that fuzzy headspace where your brain was turned off.
“You gonna talk to me now then?”
You don’t say anything but shake your head. The last thing you wanted to do was talk actually. Instead, your eyes drop down to the obnoxious metal of his belt buckle, sneaking a bit lower to the bulge where you knew what laid underneath. He chuckles, the corner of his lip curling up to show a pearly white canine.
“Your brain doesn’t work for shit other than thinking about getting fucked. Ain’t that right baby?”
You didn’t get a chance to respond, the leash being yanked and forcing your face to collide directly with his pelvis, nose pressing into the worn denim of his jeans. The moan you’ve been holding in seeps through the material, mouth watering as you pant against the zipper.
“I’m done dealing with your mood swings. So you’re going to make it up to me, and I’ll make sure there ain’t a single drop of your attitude left.”
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quibbs126 · 3 months
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So I drew this
I was just thinking of White Lily as a drow, and then I drew that
To be honest, I probably could have done more with her design, I literally just gave her a different skin tone since drow have dark purple skin, and then pointed ears. Like, give her a different outfit or something. Oh well I guess
*sigh* sorry if I sound unenthusiastic, I’m just not very satisfied with what I’ve been drawing recently. I just draw one random drawing on a 500 x 500 canvas, slap on some random color as a background because I don’t know what to do for backgrounds but I feel like maybe my normal white background isn’t cutting it, and call it a day. I mean granted, it does mean I’ll actually finish my ideas, because I have multiple pages for sketch dumps that I’ve never finished, but it feels weak to me, like I’m just doing the bare minimum
And on top of that, I haven’t even figured out that consistent art style thing or how to draw humans, I’m just guessing along because I didn’t make up that style thing for my regular sketch pencil, just my small pixel one. So I’ve effectively accomplished nothing
*sigh*
Also I’m just now remembering drow are usually evil. I’m gonna be honest, at least in terms of DND, my only real experience with drow is Drizzt Do’Urden, and his adventures in a graphic novel interpretation of his backstory I read when I was 9, and then about half of the Icewind Dale trilogy since I never finished the second book. I forget he’s supposed to be one of the rare exceptions, but maybe White Lily can be one too. I don’t know why but I feel like a drow fits her
I need to brush up on my DND lore. Which might just equate to stealing my dad’s Forgotten Realms books that were published in like the 80s. So I don’t know how up to date they are with the current lore, but shush
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romantichopelessly · 11 months
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literally the catch 22 of making urself less to keep people around you directly leading to people leaving u bc you’re not opening up to them 🧍‍♀️
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.
#trying to. figure out how to push lightly against barriers I’ve never really pushed before#without seeming too disrespectful or crossing anyone else’s boundaries or drawing too much attention to myself#(bought new nail polish and it’s a lot darker than I thought it would be but also basically the exact colour I /wanted/ when I bought it#and once I finished painting one hand I casually showed my mom and she was like ‘oh. that’s dark. not really a fan :/‘#even tho I’m a full-grown *adult* who has been flat-out told by her parents that she’s basically allowed to wear whatever she wants now#in the way of makeup/etc#I don’t want to upset my mother. I don’t want to trespass on any of her boundaries; I don’t want to seem like I’m trying to push limits.#but I. really want to wear this nail polish 😅#I NEVER paint my nails largely bc the only colours I would paint them are ones I know she’d personally never do herself#and I don’t want to upset her by not being her exact carbon copy clone all the time#but I’m finally getting to the point where I feel like I need to push back a little bit or I’ll never be able to be my own person at all.#*sigh*#friends n mutuals maybe say a prayer that I will proceed wisely and prudently. that no conflict will be started because of this.#and that I’ll be able to keep surrendering myself and my desires about this sort of stuff—like I’ve done for 2 decades now—#if that’s what it takes to keep the peace.)#personal#delete later
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hella1975 · 2 years
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forever wishing sam fender would unrelease dead boys
#it’s like the moment I get a glimmer of hope for my hometown it reminds me of how awful it is#I feel like I’m screaming underwater at people like there’s something actually insidious about that town#and I’ve BEEN saying it and it keeps getting written off as youthful angst#bc of COURSE you hate your hometown! everyone hates their hometown!#but now I’m going to another funeral for a boy in my year and it’s another suicide and I don’t even know him#i havent seen him since primary school I have no right to be so upset by this#but I’m just trawling his ig bc he looks the same#he looks the exact same and he hung himself. he was twenty#and ofc he’s connected to my family bc everyone is in that fucking town hes like a v distant cousin#so we know the news first like so many of his friends are out having a nice night rn#and I’m here with this knowledge despite not knowing him. like tomorrow someone is going to find out their best mate killed himself#the police are literally still at his house and my mum is telling me she loves me because it’s ALWAYS the boys in my year group#like off the top of my head alone bc i KNOW it’s more ive already lost six boys in my year and I’m 20#how many kids have to die before my hometown stops being such a shithole#sorry for the vent post i dont even know why this has gutted me so much#maybe bc the only memory i have of this boy is between the ages of 5-11 so I literally ONLY know him as a child#like he was so happy I can only remember him smiling and just. what went so wrong after that? he had spiky hair and gap teeth#and now I’ve been told that he hung himself and I just#god. i don’t even know anymore#I’ll never forgive that town#hella goes home
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whimsyprinx · 2 years
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apparently people can’t tell when I’m mad or upset
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insanechayne · 2 months
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~ ~ ~
#every time I call someone my best friend they turn into a fucking problem that just hurts me and makes me sick#is it me? am I doing something wrong? am I not supposed to have close friends?#or am I just such a fuckup that by being myself it’s inevitable that I’ll ruin my friendships?#kissed my bro on the cheek last week when he wasn’t doing too great and in my mind I was doing it just as an extra way to be encouraging#and show my support and that I’m here for him cause tbh I’ve done that with plenty of other friends and it ain’t no thing#but after a week of wondering why he’s been distant and not wanting to be around me when I’m saying I just need some time with a friend he#finally admits that he thought that was weird and out of line. so I gotta backtrack and try to explain myself but now all the stupid little#pieces be fitting and I realize that he’s probably been misconstruing me wanting time with him as thinking I’m gonna try to flirt with him#or something else fucking dumb like that. despite the fact that that has never been the case and he knows me fundamentally as a person and#should know I wouldn’t ever do anything that could make either of us cheaters even incidentally. plus he’s basically like a brother to me#and I have an AFAB partner so it’s not like I’m trolling for cock anyway and he knows that too. but now I gotta go back through every#interaction we’ve had since that happened and analyze whether or not I was weird or awkward or inappropriate in some way that he could be#upset about at all. and also act like everything is fine and keep it pushing like normal and police every future action to be safe too#because of course he can’t just be straight up about anything or tell me if something bothered him no I gotta play a whole ass fucking#guessing game. and now I also can’t trust that my best friend who is supposed to know me so well won’t take things I say/do the wrong way.#can’t trust that my best friend won’t see me in a poor light now because it’s clearly been affecting the friendship#and like totally that’s my bad I overstepped a boundary I didn’t realize was there but you should have just fucking told me at the time#instead of pulling this shit and giving me anxiety and blowing me off and making me feel like shit#can’t rely on him or trust him or anything and what’s the fucking point of even having a best friend if this is what happens? I’m at the end#of my fucking rope right now so stressed and anxious and no matter how much I try to talk to him or anything he just brushes me off and#won’t let me explain or get my feelings out or anything else. but hey at least I was around for him the other day when he needed somebody#good thing I was there to keep him from going back to drinking or something else stupid and could help him out. cause that’s what really#matters right just being able to help somebody else when they need it even if they don’t reciprocate and are actively hurting me instead of#just being there for me as a friend. guess we try again tomorrow huh? what else can be done I suppose. just get to suffer and be riddled#with anxiety and stress and depression eating away at me and ruining my fucking life. can’t even enjoy the Olympics or anything else because#I’m stuck overthinking this dumb shit. just want this to be over and things to be back to normal. wanna stop being upset about this shit and#be able to let it go but I don’t fucking know how and I can’t keep losing friends because it’s killing me#personal
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collideliketwostars · 10 months
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It’s been a few days and yet it’s still bothering me despite the fact that only being friends with her is the best. ugh.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 8 months
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demonstration
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words: 2.8k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, reader is toppers girlfriend, struggling to cum, female receiving oral and fingering, multiple orgasms, edging and overstimulation, protected and unprotected sex, cheating
“maybe you could ask one of your friends for help, top.” you pout, rubbing your hand over his shoulder, not wanting him feel any more upset than he needs to be, but at the same time, you’re not sure how much longer this can go on.
“you can't tell me what i can do to fix it?” topper asks.
“you know i was a virgin before you babe, i really don’t know.” you sigh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “maybe ask rafe?” “rafe?” topper turns suddenly to look at you. “why him?” “i’ve just… heard talk from some of my friends. he can probably give you some good advice. i don’t know.” you shrug. “maybe it’s something wrong with me.” “no, don’t say that.” topper shakes his head, turning to pull you into him, a hand around your waist.
“you ask your friends and i’ll ask mine.” you give as an option. topper nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead, hoping the next time you’re in his bedroom, it’ll go a lot better.
--
“what?” rafe gawks at his friend, unsure if he heard him right or if he was going crazy.
“ive never… i’ve never made y/n cum before and i just… i need to know what to do rafe! i’m worried she’s gonna leave me if i can’t get it together and i guess- fuck! i don’t know! just help me out man!” topper paces quickly, bringing his hands to his hair, tugging on it, stressed out of his mind.
“okay, alright, jesus, just clam down!” rafe says, sitting down on the couch, gesturing for topper to sit as well. he’s not sure how long he can keep himself still, already feeling awkward and nervous about not being able to make you cum, only made worse by trying to talk to rafe about it.
“every time i fuck her, i just get so over excited and cum too quickly and i know this is tmi but i just try my best and every time she doesn’t cum and she says its okay but i know it’s really not.” topper blurts out.
“alright, well…” rafe sighs, pushing his hand through his hair. he’s never had this type of issue before with girls. “do you finger her? or eat her out? before you fuck her, i mean.” “i eat her out sometimes.” topper shrugs. “she says my tongue feels good and i can make her cum like that, but not when im fucking her, i just don’t know what to do, i just get so excited and… and i’ve never had this problem with girls before, it’s just y/n.”
“to be fair, she’s hotter than any girl you’ve been with before.” rafe comments. it’s no secret, so he doesn’t feel bad saying it, especially when topper nods.
“she’s way out of my league, thats why i’m sure if i don’t fix this she’s gonna leave me.” topper sighs.
“maybe a demonstration could help?” rafe suggests, making toppers head snap towards him, a look of fury in his eyes.
“you are not allowed to fuck my girlfriend.”
“no, man.” rafe shakes his head. “what if i’m there while you fuck her? then i can give you specifics, and she will know you are really trying. she told you to ask me right?” “yeah, i guess you have a reputation of being really good.” topper cringes at his own words.
“i am. so, let me help you, top. brother to brother.”
--
rafe understands why topper has such a hard time keeping it together as you lay out naked on the bed, eyes flickering between your boyfriend and his best friend, a cautiously optimistic look on your face.
“go ahead and spread your legs.” rafe says, trying to keep his tone even, to disguise the lust that he feels as his eyes move from your breasts down to between your thighs.
“can you get naked first topper? i feel weird here.” topper was shirtless, but still had his shorts and underwear on, even though he was obviously straining against the fabric. 
“yeah.” topper glances briefly to rafe before tugging them down his hips, letting his cock spring free. 
“so have you ever cum before y/n?” rafe asks.
“yeah, um… with my own fingers.” you cough awkwardly. “and when topper eats me out.”
“its really just when i’m inside of her.” topper says with a thick swallow as your thighs part, opening them wide to show off your pussy, already gleaming with wetness and a peachy pink color that makes rafe want to bend down and bury his tongue inside of your folds, but he has to behave himself, just happy to have this opportunity to see you like this.
“why don’t you finger her first? then you can show me. open her up a little, it’ll help.” rafe instructs.
topper nods, reaching down and pressing one finger against your hole. you tense up briefly before relaxing, allowing topper to push his finger in.
“is she tight?” rafe asks, without really meaning to, but he figures you must be from the way you are squeezed so tightly around his finger.
“yeah, that’s why i can never last.” topper says, thrusting his finger in and out, the slick sounds of his movement squelching throughout the room.
“does that feel good y/n?” rafe asks, eyes flickering up to your face.
“mhm.” you nod, but you don’t feel any urge to moan, needing more. “could add a second, top.” “okay.” topper nods, trying to work a second finger in, but you hiss at the stretch, primarily hurting around your entrance, despite your wetness.
“gotta rub her clit too.” rafe says, reaching over and pressing a fingertip to your clit, rubbing it. you gasp out, not just from the good feeling but from rafe touching you, like he swore to topper he wouldn’t do before he agreed to this.
toppers finger slips easily in once you’ve relaxed to having your clit rubbed. topper looks slightly annoyed, but he stays silent when he sees how much you’re liking it now, unable to hold back your moans. “oh, just like that.” you moan, eyes fluttering closed.
“see if you can add a third.” rafe says, flicking his finger over your clit before going back to rubbing.
“i’ve-i’ve never been able to take more than two.” you sit up slightly, surprised when topper presses a third finger and manages to begin thrusting it inside of you.
“aw, fuck.” you whine, trying to close your legs, but topper holds one thigh open with his hand while rafe grasps the other.
“keep ‘em open, cutie.” rafe says. “gonna cum?”
“yeah, yeah keep going-” you cut yourself off before you can yell rafes name instead of toppers.
“pull out, top.” rafe says, suddenly taking his hand away, making your back arch off the bed as you squirm, trying to chase their fingers, to get them back touching you.
“no, no, no.” you whine when topper also pulls out, leaving your hole clenching around nothing.
“sometimes if you’re struggling having her cum with your cock inside her, you can edge her first.” rafe says, switching easily back to teacher mode.
“should i fuck her now?” topper looks to rafe, before glancing to you, realizing he shouldn’t be asking permission to fuck his own girlfriend, but rafe has that type of energy, that commanding presence that easily makes him in control of any situation.
“yeah, put the condom on though.” rafe glances to the bed where topper threw a condom out of his pocket earlier. while topper slides it on, your focus on him, rafe takes a moment to reach to his crotch, squeezing his cock and begging himself to settle, to calm down.
topper lines himself up with your entrance, placing one hand on your hip as he lines himself up with his other hand, pushing inside of you slowly as you moan, eyes squeezing shut, obviously aroused and feeling good by him stretching you, so rafe is unsure what the issue is, until topper begins to move.
he’s thrusting too rapidly, overwhelming you. rafe shakes his head, “slowly, topper. deeper thrusts.”
topper manages to get control of himself, slowing down but still not thrusting deeper, and rafe realizes its because of the angle, topper not holding himself low enough to properly thrust.
“here.” rafe grabs a pillow, a different one from the one you’re laying your head on. rafe taps your hip and you lift them as he stuffs the pillow underneath. “try now.”
topper scooches closer, now able to thrust much easier, entering you at a far better angle as he takes you repeatedly, still going too erratically, too random.
“on a beat.” rafe says. “gotta fuck her steady, can’t just jackhammer.” “i-i-” topper groans out, pulling out, much to your disappointment as you let out a deep sigh. “i can’t, was about to cum.” “damn, baby, you must be real tight.” rafe glances to you, making you blush and close your legs slightly, which is hard as you are propped up, spread open on display.
“try again, top, it’s okay.” you soothe him, keeping your voice soft and steady.
topper nods, retaking his cock in his hand, pushing it back inside. you nod in encouragement as he moves, already going to shallow and too fast to properly build you up.
“gotta rub her clit too, man. remember she’s already close from getting edged.” rafe tries to instruct, but when topper places his thumb on your clit, his movements are jerky and too harsh, almost hurting as you cringe, but in your displeasure, your cunt clenches around toppers cock and he looses control, moaning as he cums, pumping into the condom.
“shit!” topper shouts out in pleasure, before he realizes you’re looking up at him with disappointment in your eyes. “shit.” he groans again, this time angry with himself as he pulls out in shame.
“it’s okay, top.” you sit up, moving the pillow as you reach out for your boyfriend, or at least attempt to, but he moves away, looking down in shame.
“you’re gonna break up with me now.” toppers voice is sad as he speaks.
“what?” it takes you back, not expecting it.
“you’re gonna break up with me, aren’t you? because i can’t make you cum, you’re gonna leave me? god, i’m so pathetic.” “i can’t believe you think i’m that shallow.” you scoff as topper pulls the condom off and tosses it into rafes trashcan, who is simply glancing back and forth between the two of you. “that i would break up with you over sex?” “you wouldn’t?” topper questions.
“you would?” you question back, growing frustrated. “topper, i let you take my virginity, i can’t believe you thought i would do that just… just go.”
“no, baby, listen.” topper begins.
“i’m not breaking up with you yet.” you tell him. “but i need some space, please just go.” 
topper can’t hide the tears welling up in his eyes, and he doesn’t want to cry in front of you, and especially not rafe, so he pulls his clothes back on quickly and haphazardly before leaving, slamming the door shut behind him.
you sigh, burying your head in your hands. you wouldn’t break up with topper just because of sex, but his reaction to what happened makes you question everything.
“you okay baby?” rafe asks, making you jump, forgetting he was there.
“yeah, sorry, i can leave.” you move to get off the bed when rafe grabs your wrists, making you stop.
“or you could stay.” rafe says, his voice suggestive, as well as the look on his face.
“i-but topper…” “just finishing off what he started. come on, you came here for help anyways. lets see if you can cum when i fuck you.” “i-i guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.” --
rafe finally picks his head up from between your legs, cunt now bright red and covered in mess due to your three orgasms his tongue and fingers brought out of you, deciding to go for overstimulation instead of edging, now that he was the one getting to have you.
“still thinking about topper?” rafe asks, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit, making you whine out.
“no.” you admit honestly, all of your thoughts have been replaced by rafe. “fuck me, please, rafe.”
rafe smirks, standing up and taking his shirt off, pleased that your eyes glaze over as you watch him undress, jaw dropping open when his cock is revealed, already hard and leaking.
“yeah, i know i’m bigger than him.” rafe smirks as he climbs onto the bed. “but i opened you up enough, didn’t i? or do i need to make you cum again?”
“n-no.” you shake your head, already so overstimulated. “i want your cock, i need it.” “he always fucks you in missionary?” rafe asks, wanting to make you cum in the same position that topper couldn’t, proving yet another way he’s superior.
“yeah, we haven’t tried anything else.” you say, leaving out the word yet not sure if you can go back to topper after this.
rafe nods, looking towards his drawer that he knows contains condoms, going to grab one before you speak up suddenly, “you-you can fuck me raw. if you want. i’m on birth control.” rafe can’t help but smirk, nodding as he grabs the same pillow again, placing it under your hips, bringing your tired legs up, thighs falling open.
“tell me if it hurts or if anything doesn’t feel good.” rafe says. he’s sure it’s toppers' inadequacies making you struggle, but just in case he wants to take good care of you.
“mkay.” you nod, hands fisting in the bed sheets as rafe rubs the head of his cock through your sticky folds, making sure to tap against your clit, just to tease you even further.
“gonna fuck you so much better than he ever could. ‘ts why you should be with me instead, baby.” rafe says, not letting you respond or even think too much about his statement as his cock pushes inside of you, making your back arch off the bed.
“oh my god!” you shout out, moaning wildly without care as rafe begins to thrust, deep and hard, hitting spots inside of you that topper has never touched before.
“oh, fuck.” rafe groans out. “you are tight, baby.” your cunt is squeezing him, molding to his walls. “no wonder he cums so quickly.” you shake your head, not wanting to think about topper, not wanting to feel any guilt or regret as rafes hips swing forward, cock pressing against your gummy walls as he moves a thumb to your clit, rubbing it in that same enticing way that made your high build so quickly last time.
“feels really good, rafey.” you moan, raising and lower your hips slightly in time with his thrusts, forcing his cock even deeper inside of you, feeling his hot skin against yours, the first person to take you bare.
“i knew there was nothing wrong with you.” rafe smirks. “already close to cumming, aren’t you?”
despite your body being tired from your three previous orgasms, you do feel another one building in your stomach.
“yeah, thats what i thought.” rafe moves faster, rubbing his thumb more intensely. “nothing wrong with you baby, you are perfect. perfect tight little cunt.” “please.” you whine out, unsure what you are begging for as tears slide down your cheeks, purely from being overwhelmed with pleasure. you’ve never managed more than two orgasms in a night, and he’s close to doubling that.
“cum for me, doll. don’t have to beg. wanna feel that cunt squeezing around me.” rafe encourages you, pumping quickly as he pinches your clit between his thumb and finger before letting go and rubbing quickly, forcing the orgasm out of you as you scream, entire body tightening as your hips rise, high overtaking you as your eyes open to see rafe looking back at you, cocky look in his eye, but his jaw is slackened in pleasure as your cunt spasms around his dick.
“that’s it, good girl.” rafe affirms, thumb now gently touching around your clit, bringing you down slowly as his cock stays lodged deep inside of you.
you shiver as you lower your hips, breath slowly coming back to normal. 
rafe bends over your body, taking your lips in a kiss. you moan into his mouth, his tongue licking against your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth.
“you just came on my cock, pretty girl.” rafe says.
“i know, i loved it.” you hum, eyes sliding shut as rafe kisses your jaw, obsessed with the taste of your skin almost as much as your cunt.
“hmm, so two more? three?” rafe suddenly snaps his hips forward, making you realize he’s still buried inside of you.
“wait, wha-” your question is cut off as rafe straightens, resuming his same pace as if he didn’t just deliver you the most mind blowing orgasm.
“you think i’d be satisfied with getting you to cum just once?” rafe tsks and shakes his head. “we aren’t even close to done.”
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sparklingchim · 2 months
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you're losing me 03 | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 5k
genre: angst, married couple, age gap, ceo jk, nepo baby oc, second chance romance
rating: 18+
warnings: oral (f receiving), nipple play, fingering, spit kink 👉🏼👈🏼, oc is horny for her man 😋☝️, dirty talk, implied shower sex!! teasing, her dad is a meanie </3, but jk lowkey too :') ... but he's saur sweet as well 🥺 ugh!!, jk's niece yumi is the cutest ever <3, oc feeling sad/lonely/neglected/not loved enough, u know just the usual :')
summary: probing questions and rising tensions cloud the family dinner.
a/n: she posted !!!! 🫢 are u proud of me !! 🫂
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
Something tickles your back.
You roll over on your side, mumbling incoherent words.
“Hey,” Jungkook whispers. “You’re having a bad dream?”
You nod against the pillow. You don’t remember much now that you’re awake, but the dream left you feeling upset.
He pulls your body to his, keeping a safe arm around you.
“You’re okay now?” His knuckles trace softly over your cheek.
Fluttering your eyes open, you turn your head to him. “What time is it?”
“Just past six.” Jungkook pulls up the strap of your lacy nightgown. “Gotta get up for work soon.”
“No.” You hug his chest. “They won’t care if you go in a little later.”
A faint smile curves his mouth. “But I care,” he says. “The company doesn’t work without me.”
You frown and dig your pointer finger to your chest. “Me too.”
Jungkook catches your finger and intertwines his hand with yours. “I’ll be back early today,” he promises.
And while you’d usually be excited about it, you’re a bit frustrated that he’s only promising it because you’re having a family dinner at your place this evening.
“Dad would be upset if you show up late.”
“I know. He’s been watching my every step these days.”
Your dad once trusted Jungkook without question, but now he seems to be keeping a closer eye on him. You remember the day you told your dad about dating Jungkook. His expression had softened, a rare sign of pride. Though you knew it wasn’t because he was happy his daughter found a loving partner. Still, you tried to absorb any positive attention from him, recognizing that his approval was more about how the relationship could benefit him.
Your father has always been more interested in what you create or gain and how it can serve his interests.
“Is he upset with you?” you ask. Brows furrowing as you think about your own question.
“Not yet. But he’s still eager for a partnership between our companies and wants to launch a joint venture.”
You pull a face, groan a little. “Don’t tell me more. I don’t want any knowledge of this, so my father can use me to get what he wants from you.”
“He shouldn’t dare.” A stern look crosses his face. “I won’t let him drag you into it.”
But just because you’re curious and way too nosy, you ask one more question. “What do you have that he does not?”
“I have more connections than he does,” Jungkook says. One corner of his mouth slightly pulling upward. “Your father can be ruthless, but people like working with me. I’m way nicer than he is.”
“You are?” you question with a teasing lilt to your voice. You drag your finger across his chest. “Then be nice and spend some time with me before you go to work.” Your finger travels down his abs, stops at his boxer briefs. An amused smile blooms on his face as he watches you innocently bat your eyelashes at him.
With a playful grin, unable to resist you, he leans in closer. His hands find your waist. As your back sinks into the plush mattress underneath, you feel his weight pressing against you. His lips capture yours in a deep, lingering kiss, and you can feel the heat between you both rising.
He pushes your silky nightgown up your tummy, continuing his kisses on your neck to your chest and then your ribs and your belly button. Little, satisfied moans leave your mouth.
“Spread your legs for me,” he whispers against your skin. With his hands on your thighs, he gets comfortable on his tummy.
“I didn’t even get to tell you about the exciting new offer I got yesterday.”
“Tell me, love,” he says softly, continuing to peck your exposed skin. His breath tickles your thigh.
“Dasom called and told me Calvin Klein wants me as an ambassador,” you explain. The same joy floods your tummy as when your manager told you about the news, but maybe it’s Jungkook’s mouth teasing you on your inner thighs.
“That’s exciting.” His thumb rubs over your ribs in appreciation. “You’ve been wanting to work with them for so long.”
“I know! But you know what’s even more fun?” Your voice drowns in excitement, eyes sparking with enthusiasm as you look down at Jungkook between your legs.
He licks a stripe up your clothed pussy. Your inhale shakily.
“Jungkook.” You tug at his hair to make him look at you. “Are you listening?”
“I am listening.” He keeps looking at you while he tugs your panties to the side. “Go on,” he tells you, sucking on your clit right after.
Your back arches. A surprised moan bubbles from your throat.
“They- they want us two to do a shoot together,” you utter between heavy breaths. “Said it would be great for their new campaign. They love our chemistry."
“Yeah?” Jungkook’s eyes lock onto yours, and you suddenly find it hard to hold his gaze, your fingers fidgeting with the sheets between you.
“They thought about an underwear shoot, but we could do whatever we’re comfortable with.” Your tummy clenches when Jungkook adds two fingers. “They just- Jungkook, fuck.” He curls his fingers and grazes your sweet spot, pleasure jolting throughout your entire body. “They just really want us both for their campaign.”
Your fingers tug at his messy hair, hips moving against his face.
“What do – what do you think?” You bite your lip. Just a little bit more and you’re cumming.
His mouth leaves your clit. You whine at the loss. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, love.”
“You’d be okay with it?”
“Yeah.” He gives your pussy little kisses, trailing upwards to give your tummy a few too.
You impatiently push his head back between your legs. “Please, finish what you started.”
Jungkook hums in satisfaction. “So well behaved. That’s my good girl.” His tongue glides over your clit while his fingers move at a languid pace.
“Remember the perfume ad?” you ask, eyes slowly closing as he continues to torture your swollen nub with his tongue. “They only saw your back in the video and loved it so much. They’ll... they’ll die seeing this campaign.”
His left hand travels up your body, vanishing underneath the soft fabric that just barely covers your chest. “Do you have a date?” he asks, mouth full. He makes you feel dizzy.
“No-uh – oh.” You gasp when he pinches your pebbled nipple. “Not soon, though. Sometime next year, I think.”
“Sounds good.” His fingers are deep inside you. Wet noises fill the room and you want to cum so badly.
“Faster, please.” Your pussy clenches around his fingers, heat spreading over your entire body.
Jungkook looks so hot between your thighs. Eating you out with his skilled mouth, his cheeks flush a dusty pink as he watches your gentle reactions through his still sleep-laden eyes
“Jungkook.” The creases around his eyes soften when he hears you moan his name in a meek, lewd way. He can feel you being so close to coming undone, and he’s eager to see you writhe for him, make a little mess.
“Gonna cum for me, love?” The way he asks is so sweet that you nod eagerly You don’t ever deny him anything, wanting nothing more than to be good for him.
“Uh-huh,” you manage to slip between breathy moans. “Wanna cum for you.”
When the pleasure finally hits its peak and you’re so full with it, your thighs begin to tremble around his face and your head sinks into the pillow. Jungkook’s tongue continues to swipe over your sensitive clit and you whimper, pushing him away.
“Felt so good, didn’t it?” He withdraws his fingers from your clenching walls and runs his thumb over your wet, creamy pussy. He licks them clean and you swallow. He’s so irresistibly attractive it leaves you feeling light-headed.
Rising from his spot between your legs, he holds your face. His fingers dig into your cheeks. “Open your mouth.” When you do, he spits in your mouth and you swallow the mixture of your arousal combined with his spit.
“So good,” he murmurs, patting your head. “I’ll go take a shower.”
You throw your arms around his little waist. “No, stay a little more.”
“I have to leave soon, love.”
His semi is poking your tummy through his briefs and you wriggle around a little just to show him what he’s missing out on.
He buries his head in the crook of your neck, sighing deeply. “Join me in the shower?”
You giggle, tugging at his hair to kiss him on the lips. “Fine.”
As he walks towards the bathroom, you take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed, your nightgown falling back over your body, feeling the lingering warmth of his body. You hear the sound of the shower turning on, and the steam starts to drift out into the bedroom.
Before joining him, you decide to select today’s perfumes for the both of you. You pause in front of the vanity, eyeing your collection with a silly excitement.
Chanel Chance Eau Tendre? Delightful and light, but not today. Marc Jacobs Daisy? Sweet and floral. Maison Francis Kurkdijan Baccarat Rouge 540? A favourite, but it doesn’t feel right for the moment. Gucci Bloom? Tempting with its fresh notes.
Finally, you settle on Dior J’adore – you’re just obsessed with Dior scents.
Moving along the row of Jungkook’s fragrances, your finger dances over each bottle, contemplating.
Creed Aventus? A bit too fruity. Tom Ford Oud Wood? Very exotic. Dior Sauvage? Immediate skip. Bleu de Chanel? Elegant but maybe another day.
You pause at Tom Ford Amber Absolute. That exotic scent – ugh, you’ve never liked it at all. Jungkook used to wear it occasionally until he noticed your distaste and stopped.
At last, your finger lands on Yves Saint Laurent La Nuit de l’Homme. You love the cedarwood and vetiver smell in this one. Perfect.
With a satisfied smile, you set the chosen bottles on the counter.
“Love?” Jungkook calls from the bathroom.
“’m coming!”
~
You’ve successfully avoided your father all evening, managing to stay out of his way whenever possible.
You know he’s itching to discuss the incident from a few weeks ago when you were seen at your gynaecologist. He loves prying into your life and demanding answers, a way of “checking up” on his youngest daughter that feels more intrusive than caring.
So, as he’s deep in conversation with Jungkook’s brother and dad, you seize the opportunity to slip out of the living room. You're in search of Jungkook, who left a few minutes ago, and you could really use his comforting presence.
As you move quietly through the house, you hear voices coming from the dining room. You pause at the doorway and catch Jungkook’s mum ask in a hushed tone, “Is the same happening as with Eunji?”
“No. Everything is fine,” Jungkook reassures her.
“I don’t want to witness something similar again,” she expresses, clearly distressed.
Jungkook’s soothing voice replies, “There is nothing for you to worry. I promise.”
Your tummy knots with unease.
You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but the mention of Jungkook’s ex-wife only heightens your discomfort.
You’re desperate to know why his mother is mentioned Eunji and what the conversation is about, but you decide to ask Jungkook later, in a subtle manner.
With your eyes fixated to the floor and thoughts muddled, you enter the kitchen. Sunhee, the chef who has been part of your family since you were little, is preparing dinner for you tonight.
“Who was the cause of that sad face, my dear?” Sunhee asks, worry crinkling her forehead while she puts the food on the plates.
“I’m not sad,” you deny, leaning against the counter. “Not yet, at least.”
“Why are you anticipating becoming sad? That’s not a good thing to do,” Sunhee says, shaking her head in disapproval. “Who are you hiding from?”
She knows you so well. Ever since Sunhee became your family’s chef, it’s been your habit to hide in the kitchen when the atmosphere at home became too overwhelming for you. When your father was angry or your parents argued, you’d slip into the kitchen, and Sunhee would lift you onto the counter to watch her cook.
You used to just hide in your room, but you found that life was easier to bear when you didn’t have to carry all the sadness alone. When you were ready to face the world again, Sunhee would slip sweets into your hands. You mum hated treats before dinner and never allowed them, so this became your little secret with Sunhee.
It might seem trivial, but those moments meant the world to you when you were a little girl.
“My dad,” you huff. “He’s been unbearable since...the pictures.”
Sunhee gives you a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry to hear that, dear. I know how tiring his behaviour can be.”
“He’s like someone straight out of the gossip rags.”
Sunhee chuckles softly. “He does have a flair for drama, doesn’t he? But you shouldn’t let it get to you. You’ve always been good at handling him.”
“It’s just exhausting.”
She pats your hand gently. “Don’t let him bring you down. Remember, this kitchen is your sanctuary.” The little anxious ball in your tummy fades with each comforting word Sunhee speaks. “Dinner will be ready shortly. You can sit down in the dining room. I’ll let everyone know.”
“I’ll do that for you,” you offer, and leave the kitchen.
Heading to the living room, you announce, “Dinner’s ready.”
“Have you seen Yumi?” Jungkook’s brother asks, referring to his four-year-old daughter.
“It’s been a while since I’ve last seen her,” you answer and he immediately gets up. She must be up to no good if she’s been unsupervised for longer than ten minutes.
“Yumi! Where are you?” Jungkook’s brother calls in the hallway. “Dinner’s ready!”
Loud, hectic thumps erupt from upstairs.
“When did she get up there?” you ask puzzled.
Jungkook and his mother emerge from the dining room.
“What happened?” he asks.
Before anyone can respond, Yumi’s usual small pitter-patter of footsteps becomes a series of high-pitched clatters. She appears at the top of the stairs, dressed up in your clothes.
“Oh, God,” her dad utters.
“She found ___ closet.” An endeared smile crinkles Jungkook’s eyes.
Yumi proudly walks down the stairs in your Louboutins, a hand on the rail to keep her from tumbling. Jungkook rushes towards her, keeping a safe hand on her shoulder.
“___!” she exclaims, her wide smile puffing her cheeks. She’s wearing your soft pink corset from Dior and your mini skirt from Giambattista Valli’s vintage collection over her own dress.
“Had fun in my wardrobe?” You laugh as she nods vigorously.
“You have soo many clothes!” she says, eyes turning big. “And everything is sparkly!” She turns to her dad. “Daddy, I want a sparkly bag like dis too!” Yumi shoves your Prada clutch up in the air.
Jungkook’s brother emits a strained sigh, although a tiny smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t you have a sparkly bag?”
Yumi frowns. “Not dis sparkly.” She points her hand at the bag for emphasis.
You giggle. Yumi was raised right. The sparklier the better.
“I hope you didn’t leave a mess in there,” he warns her.
“Daddy, the bag!” she yells, ignoring his words to avoid trouble, dangling it in the air.
Her dad ushers her into the dining room.
“Who made the bag? I’ll just buy her the same one,” he whispers in your ear.
“It’s a vintage Prada clutch from the fall/winter 2015 collection,” you answer, a confused pout gracing your face. “It’s no longer available for purchase.”
His eyes widen. He watches his daughter climb onto the chair with Jungkook’s assistance, the crystal embellished clutch sitting on the decked table near drinks and food that could spill onto it.
“Then we better take care of it.” He rushes to the table and places it somewhere safer.
As everyone settles into their seats for dinner, Jungkook’s brother breaks the silence, “Hyein was so upset she would miss out on Sunhee’s food.” His wife is pregnant and felt sick today, so she couldn’t come.
“How far along is she?” your mother asks.
“Just entered the third trimester.”
“I’m getting a baby brother!” Yumi exclaims, eyes wide with anticipation.
Jungkook pats her hair and falls into a quiet conversation with her.
“We’re very excited, but she’s been having a rough time lately.”
“Well, I hope she feels better soon,” your father says, his tone temporarily softening. “Take good care of her.”
As the conversation continues with lighter topics, you feel a momentary relief. But soon enough, you feel your father’s gaze shift back to you, a familiar sense of scrutiny returning.
“I wonder when it’ll be time for my daughters,” he says pointedly.
It’s funny he is using the plural form, given that, as far as you know, he never brings up this topic with your older sister, Jinah.
“I think we’ve talked about this last week,” you answer monotonous, eyes set on the plate before you.
“With you I’m just wondering whether I would receive the news from you personally or wake up to headlines telling me,” he says.
Your father called you as soon as the pictures were released, as hungry for answers as the press. Even accused you of hiring the paparazzi yourself when you told him you had merely gone to a check-up and assured him you weren’t pregnant; Jungkook was just comforting you after a rough day.
You used to pull a lot of silly stunts as a teenager to get your father’s attention. But staging a scene for the paparazzi, crying in your husband’s arms over a pregnancy scare, would be the last thing you’d do to get him to check up on you.
You did have your share of attention-seeking antics, like being spotted leaving the club with the son of your father’s rival company, stealing his jet or throwing lavish parties and inviting a mix of celebrities and socialites when your father was away on a trip.
“Didn’t Jinah talk about wanting babies in an interview? Ask her for grandchildren.”
Tilting his head, your father gives you a disapproving glance. “She’s busy with her law firm, don’t you think?”
The table falls silent, with only the faint sound of your breath as you open your lips to speak. Before you can respond, Jungkook steps in to answer for you.
“___ is quite busy herself – launching her clothing brand soon, starting the filming of her first drama, handling the countless photoshoots she has weekly.” Jungkook subtly places his hand on your bare thigh, the comforting press of his wedding band against your skin.
Your father’s features soften as he shifts his gaze to Jungkook. It still saddens you a bit that he seems to approve of everyone but you – it haunts you in the middle of the night, knowing that all you ever wanted as a child was to feel deserving of one of his approving smiles.
“I know she’s busy. It irks me what she keeps herself busy with.”
Jungkook is about to respond, but his mother steps in. “Your acting debut? Oh, I’m so excited.”
Jungkook’s hand slides to your knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Don’t take it to heart.
You remind yourself that you’ve long since stopped letting these comments get under your skin. Yet, a part of you – the little girl still longing for approval – feels a pang of sadness that won’t quiet fade.
As the conversation shifts, you find yourself staring at your plate, pushing the food around with your fork. The weight of your father’s disapproval feels heavier than ever. The rest of the meal passes in a blur of small talk and clinking utensils. You laugh at the right moments, nod when expected, but your mind drifts elsewhere. Eventually, the plates are cleared, and everyone begins to disperse.
“We should get going. It’s been a long day, and Hyein is alone at home.”
Yumi tugs at her dad’s sleeve, her eyes wide and hopeful. She glances over at you and Jungkook, then looks down shyly.
“What is it, Yumi?” her dad asks, crouching down to her level.
She whispers something in his ear, and he chuckles. “She wants to ask you guys something.”
You smile, kneeling down.
“Can we have a sleepover?” Yumi asks, her voice small and tentative. “Please?”
Jungkook grins and looks at you for confirmation. You nod saying, “Of course, you can. We’d love to have you.”
“Yay!” Yumi exclaims, jumping up and down excitedly. She rushes over to hug both you and Jungkook tightly.
As everyone gathers their things, your father watches you intently. His expression is hard to read, and for a moment, it seems like he might say something. But he quickly looks away, the familiar disapproval etched into his features.
You expected nothing less from him.
~
“Is Uncle Jungkook not playing dress up with us?” Yumi asks as she looks through the dress section of your closet.
“I’ll look for him, yeah?”
Stepping out of your walk-in closet and your bedroom, you walk down the hallway.
“Jungkook?” You hear his voice coming closer, and soon spot him walking briskly in your direction.
“Jungkook,” you call, trying to grab his bicep but he continues walking, and your fingers merely graze his arm. “Yumi wants to play before going to bed.”
Only when he turns around do you see him pressing his phone against his ear. Jungkook puts his pointer finger against his mouth and shushes you before he walks off in the direction of his office.
A startled laugh escapes your mouth.
As soon as your family left, his focus shifted back to his work. His excuse about being on the phone felt like a dagger, leaving you feeling disregarded and lonely – emotions you have been feeling too much lately, it’s starting to become a familiar ache in your chest, a constant reminder of the growing distance between you.
Watching Jungkook retreat to his office, you couldn’t help but wonder when it became so easy for him to prioritise work over your presence.
You turn back towards the bedroom and find Yumi standing by your open jewellery drawer, probably drawn by the bright, sparkly gems.
“Uncle Jungkook has some work to do,” you tell her.
Yumi just nods, staring at all the shimmery things in front of her. When she hears you sigh, she looks up at you, her little heart immediately sensing your change in mood.
“Are you sad?” Yumi asks, dragging her little finger over all your accessories, searching for the ones that shine the most.
“I think so,” you admit.
“Was someone mean to you?” She grabs a diamond necklace.
“A little, yeah.” You cross your arms, holding back the annoyed sigh.
Jungkook didn’t mean to make you feel upset. That would never be his intention. But you’re a sensitive person. And you’re his wife, so he should know better.
“My mommy always says when someone is mean to me to never be mean back to them, because – because that shows you are an ugly person.” She fiddles with your necklace.
“And we don’t want to be an ugly person, right?”
“No-uh.” She shakes her head, her little pigtails bouncing. “I wanna be pretty,” she says and holds the shiny necklace against her neck while looking at herself in the full-length mirror. “Where did you get this one from?”
Yumi’s second favourite game, after dress-up, is asking about the designers of your clothes and jewellery.
“It’s a Harry Winston piece. Uncle Jungkook gifted it to me,” you tell her.
“Really?” Her eyes widen. “He buys you so many sparkly things! Like that!” She points to your wedding ring. “Uncle Jungkook must love you so much. But – but he married you. So he has to.”
You help her put on the necklace. “What, you can’t love someone when you’re not married?”
Yumi shakes her head and giggles. “Noo, of course you can, silly. But you only get married when you know you will love them forever and ever.”
“You think Uncle Jungkook will love me forever?” You just feel slightly foolish for asking a child for reassurance.
She turns to you. A confused pout adorns her little face. It reminds you a bit of yourself.
“You don’t buy someone sparkly things when you don’t love them forever.”
You laugh. “Oh, is that so?” You grab her hand. “Come on, little girl. I got a few unopened gifts from designers I know you will love.”
Yumi squeals excitedly and follows you.
~
Sometime past midnight, Jungkook steps into the bedroom.
You lie in bed with your back to him. You were scrolling mindlessly on your phone – online shopping a little until Jungkook would come to bed, using his card just because. You put Yumi to bed in your guest bedroom hours ago.
“Jaehyun’s gala is in Italy next week,” he says, putting his phone on his bedside table. “You’re coming with me, right?”
You glance over your shoulder and glare at him a little. “No. Don’t wanna go all the way there just for a gala.” You hate flying. And flying to Italy to just stay there for a couple hours does not sound like something you want to do.
“We could have a little vacation for a few days.”
You tilt your head, watching him intently as if he’s setting you a trap. “How many days are we talking?” You sit up.
He ponders, probably going through his schedule in his mind. “Three days. At least.”
You sigh dramatically, though your chest feels giddy. “Fine. I’ll come. But I decide what we’re going to do every day.”
“Sure,” he agrees. “But I already know what you want to do anyway.” A little smirk dances on his lips.
“Oh, do you now?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow.
“Of course,” he replies, eyes shining. “You’ll want to visit the Uffizi Gallery first, lose yourself in all that Renaissance art. Then, there’s the Pinacoteca di Brera because you’re in love with those masterpieces. Shopping at Via Montenapoleone is a given, of course.”
You try to hide your smile but fail miserably.
“You probably want to go to the Amalfi Coast too. You love the view and the town. And then dinner at La Pergola – you've been craving their dishes ever since the last time we went.” He sits down the edge of the bed, watching you with expectant eyes.
You shake your head at him. “You really do know me too well.”
His dimples appear. “Told you.” He looks so pleased with himself. “See? I like you way better like this.” Jungkook gently traces the curve of your smile with the pad of his finger. “And not when you’re glaring at me.”
“Then be nicer to me,” you huff.
His fingers hold your chin and his mouth meets yours. He kisses you so softly and you melt against him.
“I’m not doing it on purpose, love,” he whispers in between kisses. His hand is warm on your waist and he squeezes you slightly.
“Come to bed.” You plant a smooch on his jawline. “I can’t sleep without you.”
While Jungkook takes off his clothes, you lie down again, your mind racing with thoughts of what happened today.
“Why did you and Eunji separate?” you inquire, voice laced with curiosity.
You catch the exact moment Jungkook registers your question; one eyebrow lifts for a heartbeat before his lips pucker into a wistful pout, deep in thought.
He isn’t surprised by your random question. Jungkook is used to you asking things at unexpected moments. You always speak your mind when you’re with him. You’ve asked him this before, but you want to hear his answer again, especially after his mother mentioned her.
“It just didn’t work out anymore,” he says finally. He wears a pensive expression and you’d give everything to know which moments with Eunji are flashing before his eyes.
You wonder if he often reminisces about specific times with her, and your curiosity deepens. He still works with her, sees her quite often, so does he ever think about past times with her? When they were married? And a happy couple?
The thought makes your face twist into a little frown. Jungkook has you. There’s no reason for him to dwell on past relationships when he is married to you.
What kind of thoughts are these? You’ve never had them before.
“We had other plans on how our future would look like,” he tells you as he’s getting under the covers. “What’s wrong?” he asks once he looks over at you and sees your brows pulled together.
“Nothing,” you murmur, smoothing the blanket around you.
“Everything is strictly professional between us.” He’s watching you with attentive eyes. “We care more about our work than the personal stuff.”
You doubt you could say the same if you were in their shoes. But then again, dramatic as you are, you’ve never really gotten over anything in your life.
You still wonder why his mother mentioned his ex, but it doesn’t matter – she doesn’t. Jungkook loves you, and that’s all you care about.
“I know. I trust you.” With a knowing glint in your eyes, you nod once in agreement. “Have never trusted anyone as much, actually.” You turn on your side, resting your hand on his chest. He’s warm, and you feel a gentle calm settle over you.
Soft knocks interrupt you.
“Uncle Jungkook?” Yumi’s meek voice comes through from the other side. She slowly opens the door. “Can I sleep with you, please?”
Jungkook sits up. “Is something wrong?” he asks worriedly.
“Can’t sleep,” she mumbles and crawls up into your bed. Her curious eyes rake over the shiny, lacy nightgown you’re wearing as Jungkook helps her getting tucked in between the two of you. “That’s a beautiful colour,” she says sleepily, feeling the glossy material with the pads of her fingers.
“Thank you.” You smile down at her but she’s intensely staring at your nightgown with fascinated eyes.
“Such a sleepy girl and yet still wants to steal ___ clothes.” Jungkook boops her nose, and she giggles mischievously. “At this point, you just want everything that Aunt ___ wears.”
Yumi turns her head to him. “You have a very pretty girlfri – wife, Uncle Jungkook.”
Jungkook hums in agreement. “I know. She is insanely pretty.”
Your cheeks feel hot. And you feel silly, but so in love.
“Is that why you married her?”
Jungkook chuckles. “It’s one of the reasons, yeah.”
“When I grow up, I want to be as pretty as Aunt ___” Her little eyes sparkle when they shift back to you. She scootches closer to you, cuddling your side.
“Oh,” you coo at her sweetness. “But you’re so pretty already.” You hesitantly brush her hair, taming the crazy bed hair. Jungkook watches you two with fondness softening his features.
“I know,” she yawns and ever so slowly her eyes fall closed.
“How did she fall asleep this quick?” You stare at the way her body falls and rises in rhythmic motions.
“I ask myself that every time when we go to sleep together.”
You sniff a laugh. You tend to fall asleep extremely fast when Jungkook is next to you.
“You’re just very comfortable.” You yearningly stare at his chest and his arm. You won’t be able to fall asleep on him, because miss Yumi is clinging to your side.
“Apparently you are too,” he muses.
You smile softly, looking down at Yumi’s peaceful face. The warmth of her small body pressed against yours fills you with a comforting sense of contentment. It’s a simple, unconditional love that you’ve always yearned for.
The room is quiet, save for the soft sounds of sleep. You close your eyes, feeling the weight of the day and the ache in your heart. As much as you cherish these moments, they also remind you of what’s missing.
But for now, you hold onto Yumi a little tighter, letting her innocent love soothe your restless mind, even as the doubts and fears linger in the corners of your heart.
2K notes · View notes
gay-dorito-dust · 4 months
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hii!! I don't know if your requests are open but I love the way you write for the Batboys so I thought I'd request something ^-^
The batboys reacting to their s/o not saying "I love you" back when they end a call. This tiktok for reference.
(In case the link doesn't work https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLW4JWj1/)
Idk if you'll see this but thank you!!
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Dick
‘I’ll see you soon honey, I love you.’ Dick said on the other side of the phone.
‘See you soon, bye.’ You said cheerfully as you hung up the phone, trying your hardest not to break down with laughter. You could clearly see Dick’s face within your mind, looking down at his phone with the expression of a confused husky dog, head tilted to the side and a pout spread across his face.
For not once had you ever not said ‘I love you’ to Dick when ending a phone call, even when you were annoyed with him you still told him that you loved him, so this was completely out of the ordinary for you and you knew that Dick knew that too.
Which is why he was quick to call you back.
‘Hi! Yeah this is your BOYFRIEND speaking, you know the one you love and are devoted to loving for all of eternity, so do you not love me anymore now or?’
‘Of course I do what makes you think that sweetheart?’ You asked, trying not to laugh at Dick’s dramatics.
‘Well it doesn’t sound like it.’ You could practically hear him huffing. ‘I just want to be loved is that so much to ask for?’ He asks rhetorically.
‘Dick, you’re being dramatic.’ You tell him and he gasps on the other side. ‘Me dramatic? Never! All I ask is for my beautiful, stunning and perfect partner to say they love me before I go kick some ass, but no I’m asking too much apparently.’ Dick then huffs. ‘How mean.’ You heard him mutter under his breath.
‘Fine I love you! I love you very much so go kick all the asses for my honey! I love, love, love you!’ You practically shouted down the phone. ‘How was that for you mr dramatic?’ You add.
‘Mr dramatic loves you too very much.’ Was all he said before hanging up.
Dick never liked it when you didn’t say I love you, he gets very upset and doesn’t want to do anything else until you concede and tell him you love him as though your life depended on it. He was indeed a dramatic man.
Tim
‘Don’t stay up too late for me, I’ll be home soon I love you.’ He said.
‘Okay bye.’ Was all you replied with before hanging up the phone.
Tim knew damn well you weren’t doing much but hold back your laughter when you put down the phone after not saying ‘I love you’ like you normally did, and so through the process of elimination did Tim eventually come to the conclusion that this was all an elaborate prank.
‘I know this is a prank, you can cut it out now.’ Tim tells you the moment you picked up the phone.
‘Prank? Why would you think this is a prank?’ You asked.
‘You’ve not once forgot to tell me you love me in our past calls, so for you to do it now only is an indication of two things, one it’s a prank or I’ve done something wrong.’ He told you with certainty in his deduction.
You raised a brow. ‘And what makes you think that you didn’t do something wrong and I’m not mad at you?’ You were the one to ask this time as you could practically hear him think.
‘Because I didn’t.’ Was his only reply and you couldn’t help but giggle as you ask again. ‘Are you sure?’
Silence for a couple of second were what you were greeted with before being greeted with a ‘I’m a hundred percent certain.’
You sighed. ‘You’re right, it’s a prank, I’m sorry but I hope this I love you will set things right. So here it is: I love you Tim Drake.’
More silence and you were worried for a second before you heard him say ‘I love you too, don’t stay up too late for me please, we both can’t be sleep deprived that’s only reserved for me.’
Tim knew, he always does so there’s no point trying to prank him because he’ll know unless he’s caught off guard, though he won’t tell you is that he nearly shit himself when you didn’t and though he did something when he begin to think logically.
Jason
‘Okay I’ve got to head out on patrol now with Roy, I’ll see you as soon as I’m done chipmunk, I love you.’
‘See you soon jaybirdie, bye.’ You replied before quickly putting the phone done but as soon as you did, mentally counting down from three and when you got to one, your phone flashed with Jason’s contact almost immediately.
You knew he wasn’t going to let that slide once you started this little prank and he played right into your hands.
‘What was that.’ He asks.
‘What was what.’ You replied, acting as though you were confused.
‘You know what, the whole not saying I love you. it’s kind of out thing and so for you to not saying it is kinda throwing me off my grove, and Roy won’t stop saying how much of a simp I am. What even is a simp anyway?’ You couldn’t help but feel your smile grow wider at Jason’s rant and let out a small chuckle.
‘I’m sure Roy can tell you what a simp is, but I don’t see how me not saying I love you once is enough to throw you complete of your game.’ You replied as you could almost hear Roy laugh.
Jason sighs and you could imagine him rubbing his forehead. ‘Can you, can you just say it so I’m not thinking about it for the rest of the night, I don’t feel like bleeding out on our bathroom floor tonight.’ He says and you couldn’t help but feel yourself bend to his will a little before completely yielding entirely.
‘Fine, if it’ll make you feel better, I love you.’ You said and you could tell that took the weight off of his shoulders.
‘Thanks chipmunk, I love you.’ He said before hanging up, finally content to see the patrol through with a clear mind.
Needless to say Jason internally overthought himself when you didn’t say I love you once, it nearly drove the poor man insane and into doing something reckless. So it was good that you did say it when you did.
2K notes · View notes
pathologicalreid · 5 months
Note
hiii I love ur fics <3 I am OBSESSED with the prompt “can you come get me?” bc h/c makes me 💥💥💥 so I was thinking:
reader has been kidnapped by the latest unsub and the team is trying their hardest to find her but all the leads keep coming up empty until one day Spencer gets a call from her and the first thing she says is “can you come get me?” she sounds extremely upset and afraid so Spencer and Hotch leave to go find her. when they get there, she looks like she’s been through hell so they rush her to the hospital to be checked out, all the while they can’t seem to get any info out of her about what happened.
Spencer & reader could be platonic or romantic, whichever you like. (also I was thinking maybe hotchner!reader ? if that wouldn’t be too many things to ask for lol)
I love how you do angst and h/c, so keep up the good work and have a wonderful day <3
can you come get me? | S.R.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: kidnapping, hospitals, stitches, blood draws, catatonia, disassociation, brief mention of sa, ohio mentioned, general cm violence (let me know if i missed any) word count: 4.56k a/n: i have no idea how this got so long but i love the plot of it so much that i couldn't cut any of it! i'm such a slut for the "you came"/"you called" trope that i couldn't help myself! i wrote this with the idea that it would be in place of the m*eve storyline (which means our lord and savior blake is here)!! anyways anon i hope you enjoy this - i love you!
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Any external sound was completely ignored as Spencer flipped through the same file for the eighteenth time that day. In his periphery, he saw JJ and Rossi nod at each other before Rossi split away, walking up the ramp to where Hotch’s office was.
It took him a moment to realize JJ had made herself comfortable by sitting on the edge of his desk. She had her jacket neatly folded in her arms as she eyed the file he had, grief filling her eyes as she registered what he was looking at. “What are you doing tonight?” She asked, trying to keep her voice as light as possible.
The question was entirely pointless, she knew exactly what he was doing tonight, but in an attempt to get her to leave him alone, Spencer humored her, “I’m working late tonight,” he answered simply.
JJ’s smile faltered ever so slightly before she shook her head, “You’ve been working late all week, what if you come over tonight? Will’s making dinner. Garcia’s coming after she finishes her system update,” the attempt to get him out of the office didn’t go over his head, but it wasn’t going to work. “Henry would love to see you – maybe you could teach him a new magic trick.”
Peeling his eyes off of the paperwork, he looked up at the blonde, “You know I can’t.” He felt so close to an answer, he couldn’t possibly leave.
“Look, Reid, I get it, but you’ve been working crazy hours for the past month. Maybe taking a night off would be good. You can start fresh in the morning,” she tried to coax him into leaving the case be.
It hadn’t been a full month; it had been twenty-seven days. Almost four full weeks since you were taken. It had been one week since Section Chief Cruz had told Hotch that the BAU needed to start taking new cases, as the trail to you had run cold.
Considering you were Hotch’s daughter, that discussion had gone rather poorly. Cruz had been able to give the team leeway. Both Spencer and Hotch had fully intended on taking advantage of that leeway, and the rest of the team helped when they had the capacity.
Turning back to your file, Spencer shook his head, “I’ll go if Hotch goes.” He knew there was no way Hotch would be leaving the office tonight, the only reason Hotch went home anymore was for Jack, and he was at a sleepover tonight.
JJ’s shoulders slumped in abject disappointment as her eyes followed Dave as he exited Hotch’s office, the slamming of the door enough to make the lingering BAU agents flinch. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, defeated.
Rossi wagged a finger at Spencer, “Go home at some point tonight, kid,” he instructed.
Waving a quick goodbye, Spencer resumed making notes in the margins of the papers that were making a permanent home on his desk. He looked up when Hotch exited his office, eyes following him as he brewed a pot of coffee in the kitchenette. The two of them acknowledged each other with a nod before continuing on with the hunt.
Both of them knew the odds, that you had been gone this long and there was a good chance that they’d never see you again. Despite that, Spencer would head up to Hotch’s office in about an hour, and the two of them would confer.
Eventually, the sun set, and a thunderstorm rolled in, the flashes of light coming in through the windows as he began to consider going for another cup of coffee.
Wiping a hand down his face, he inwardly groaned as his phone started to ring. Half expecting it to be JJ, he was surprised to find that it was an unknown caller. Clicking the answer button, he lifted the phone to his ear, “Hello, this is Dr. Reid.”
There was an eerie silence on the other end of the call, if he strained his ears, he could hear the pattering of rain. He tried to greet the other person again, but when there was no answer, he started to lower the phone to hang up.
“Can you come get me?” Your quiet voice came through the receiver, effectively knocking the wind out of Spencer’s lungs.
Fiddling with his belongings, Spencer gripped your file, “Where are you?” He asked urgently.
You sniffled, “I don’t know. A payphone off of twenty-eight.” If he strained his ears, he could listen to the rain. Spencer wondered if he could calculate how far away you were by the sound of the thunder where you were compared to where he was.
His chest ached at the exhaustion in your tone, imagining you had gotten approximately as much sleep as he had recently. That is to say, little to none. Pulling the phone slightly away from his face, he called out for Hotch, getting his attention and waving him over. “Y/N, can you see any mile markers or exit signs anywhere?” Spencer asked, bringing the phone back up to his ear.
“I can’t see much of anything,” you admitted. That made sense, your glasses had been recovered at your abduction scene. Spencer kept them in his bag with the rest of your belongings that had been released from evidence. “I feel lucky enough that I was able to find a pay phone,” you said, and for the first time, he noticed that you were whispering.
Glancing at the inside of his wrist, Spencer checked the time. JJ had mentioned something about Garcia staying in her office for a system update – what were the odds the tech analyst was still there? Stalking out of the bullpen, he made his way to her office, Hotch hot on his heels.
After knocking on the door, her voice rang out, “Enter, mere mortal.” Once she had recognized who it was, she greeted Spencer directly, “Ah, Dr. Reid, did you need a ride to JJ’s?”
“Can you locate a payphone based on the phone number?” He asked hurriedly, the longer you stood out there in the rain, the more danger you might be in.
A confused look was plastered on her face, but she turned back to her screens and started click-clacking away. “Most def, boy genius. Run me the digits,” she responded, pulling up some sort of database that Spencer didn’t recognize – probably for the best.
She typed the phone number just as quickly as he recited it, turning around and telling him that the pay phone in question was approximately thirty minutes away. You had only been thirty minutes away this entire time. “Send the coordinates to Hotch’s phone,” Spencer instructed, stepping toward the door. “Tell the rest of the team to come in,” he continued, “it’s Y/N.”
Each stage of grief flashed across Penelope’s face as she nodded assuredly, scrambling for her phone as she took care of notifications.
Impatiently, Hotch held the elevator door open as Spencer entered, keeping the phone up to his ear, “Stay on the phone,” he told you.
A desperate whimper came from your end of the call, “I don’t have any change. I found a few quarters on the ground, but I don’t have anything on me.”
“Stay on as long as you can, angel,” Spencer amended. “We’re on our way.”
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The rain was worse than he had initially thought, but Mother Nature was no match for Aaron Hotchner. They were only about five minutes from the coordinates that Garcia had shared, and the phone call had dropped off before they were even on the main highway. The dropped call certainly didn’t help the rising tension in the SUV.
“Did she sound scared?” Hotch had asked for the nth time.
Not taking his eyes off of the map, Spencer nodded, “She sounded like she was stranded in the middle of the woods in Virginia, in a thunderstorm, and was using a pay phone as a lifeline.” His entire body was thrumming with nervous energy as they sped down the road, “but she’s alive.”
He didn’t miss the way Hotch’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. You being alive would have to be enough of a comfort to the both of them for now, but Spencer knew what your life meant to your father.
“There it is,” Spencer said, interrupting his thoughts with the recognition of a phone booth on the side of the road, in front of a seemingly abandoned gas station. In a moment of uncharacteristic recklessness, Spencer clambered out of the vehicle before it came to a full stop, an umbrella and jacket in tow.
Hesitantly, he approached the crumpled heap of limbs underneath the pay phone. It wasn’t a full booth, it had just enough coverage to prevent the payphone from short-circuiting. You had jammed yourself underneath it, trying to keep yourself as dry as possible.
Kneeling in front of you, he swept his sopping-wet hair from his face, “Y/N.” His voice was no more than a breath, he didn’t dare reach out to touch you — lest you not want to be touched. A strike of lightning lit your surroundings enough for him to note the bruise that had bloomed on your cheek.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he watched as your lips parted in recognition, “You came,” you whispered.
He nodded, “You called.” His heart soared as you shuffled yourself closer to him, allowing him to wrap the FBI-issued jacket around your rain-soaked frame. “Let’s get you out of this rain, alright?”
Standing up on shaky legs, Spencer helped you walk to the SUV where your dad was waiting, shining a flashlight to help guide you to the vehicle. Based on how heavily you were leaning on him, he could tell that your left leg was injured. Despite your injury, you stepped away from Spencer to hug your father.
For a moment, Spencer felt like he was intruding on a family moment, but he recalled all of the times he had been invited to join in Hotchner festivities these last few years and allowed his eyes to meet Hotch’s.
The two of them shared an understanding look as Hotch pulled away, “We should get you to a hospital,” he said, cupping your face with parental gentleness.
Spencer helped you into the SUV, unable to put any pressure on your leg, you depended on the handles to pull yourself up. As you maneuvered yourself, he tried to determine what your injuries were. His eyes scanned your body until he made his way back to your face, “Angel, keep your eyes open.” He felt as if he was asking a lot of you, but he didn’t know if you had taken a hit to the head. Falling asleep could do more damage. “Hey, Y/N?” He said, watching as your eyes fell shut and your head slumped forward. “Hotch,” Reid said urgently from the backseat.
Understanding perfectly, Hotch hit the lights on the SUV and turned on the siren. Flashes of red and blue signaled to other drivers that there was an emergency.
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You were silent.
As soon as they had gotten you to the emergency room, your entire demeanor had changed. Spencer guessed that you had been in fight or flight when they had picked you up from the phone booth, and now that you were getting the help that you needed, all of the fight had vacated your being.
In the white fluorescence of the hospital, he could see how drained you looked. Once the doctors got their hands on you, you refused to let him or your dad near you.
Hotch was in the hallway, talking on the phone with your Aunt Jessica while he tried to arrange childcare for Jack so he could stay with you - the leader of your care team estimated you’d be in the hospital for at least a few days.
While you had been mobile when they came to get you, your energy had left along with your adrenaline, and eventually, the best course of action was to just let you sleep. That was how Spencer ended up sitting cross-legged in a stiff hospital chair, watching over you as you slept.
Respectful of your wishes, he kept a fair distance from you, but you’d be hard-pressed to convince him to let you out of his sight. There were tubes and wires going every which way from your body, oxygen, an IV, and electrodes monitored your life. Boiling you down to a collection of numbers that showed Spencer just how alive you were.
The doctors suspected you had bacterial pneumonia, but they were still waiting on the results of your chest X-ray to make a formal diagnosis. Your presumed leg injury had turned out to be a bruised hip bone – part of a sickening pattern that reflected that of someone who had been thrown down a flight of stairs.
A knock on the window to your hospital room caught his attention, causing him to turn his head and come face to face with Rossi and Blake. Opening the blinds so that he’d be able to keep an eye on you from the hallway, Spencer stood up and joined his colleagues in the corridor.
“What’s the report?” Rossi asked, nodding in the direction of your room, and placing his hands on his hips.
Spencer rubbed the back of his neck before responding, “The doctor said that all things considered, she’s in good shape, but…” Shaking his head to wake himself up, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “She’s sick and was beaten. Right now, she’s sleeping. We have no idea she was running in the woods, so it’s not surprising that she’s exhausted.”
He continued on to list other maladies that the doctors had provided, dehydration, malnutrition, one cut on your arm that needed to be stitched, and that was just scratching the surface. Dave nodded understandingly, “but the sooner we get to ask her questions, the better.”
Shrugging, Spencer looked over at your father, and then back to you, “When she wakes up on her own,” he murmured, watching as a nurse checked on your IV. He didn’t want to risk waking you up or asking too much too soon of you. “Can I ask you a quick question?” He lifted a finger inquisitively to the nurse who was walking out of your room, scribbling something on your chart.
The nurse hummed in response, raising her eyebrows as she waited for him to ask.
“Do you think the infection has anything to do with her silence? She might be hurting so she isn’t talking?” He asked, it wasn’t unheard of, when people were in a lot of pain, sometimes they coped with silence.
While the nurse might have an excellent bedside manner, the three profilers took note of the concern in her eyes. “The silence might have more to do with her psychological well-being than her physical well-being,” she responded, it was a healthcare way of trying to appease them. Really, they didn’t know much better than the members of the BAU did.
Blake’s eyebrows shot up in curiosity, “Could it be catatonia?”
“In order to diagnose catatonia, she’d need to display three of twelve symptoms. Those are stupor, catalepsy, waxy flexibility, mutism, negativism, posturing, mannerism, stereotypy, agitation, grimacing, echolalia, and echopraxia. So far, she really only meets one of twelve,” Spencer answered.
Shrugging, the nurse pointed at Spencer with her pen, “What he said.” She looked down at the chart before continuing, “Her care team leader called for a psych consult, but we won’t really know one way or the other until she wakes up.”
Nodding, Rossi nodded in acknowledgment, “What else could it be?”
Pursing her lips, the nurse tilted her head to the side, “Peritraumatic disassociation is another possibility, but again, we won’t know until she wakes up.”
The waiting game began. As luck would have it, an FBI agent being abducted created a lot of paperwork, so Hotch was holed up in a conference room while Rossi and Blake worked on the profile. JJ and Morgan stayed back at Quantico with Garcia to look back at what information Hotch and Spencer had been gathering over the past twenty-seven – now twenty-eight – days.
Spencer stayed with you, tucking your blanket around you when he watched goosebumps sprout along your arms. He paid close attention to everything that the doctors and nurses said about your condition, relaying everything to Hotch via text message. They ran a kit on you, and the only solace was that there was a chance that they could DNA match whoever did this to you.
He left that last part out of his message to your father.
As soon as you started waking up, Spencer had to leave the room, watching from the hallway as medical personnel flurried around your bed. At first, he had assumed your aversion to himself and your dad was an overall aversion to men, but you didn’t flinch when it came to the male doctor who was checking your vitals manually.
A nurse peeked out from the door, “Are you Dave?”
Furrowing his eyebrows, Spencer cocked his head back in confusion, “No? I’m not – why?” He asked, gaze flickering back into your room as you scrawled something on the piece of paper that a nurse had handed you.
“She said she’d talk to Dave,” the inquiring nurse shrugged, turning back into your room, and adjusting your pillow beneath your head.
Still confused, Spencer slipped his phone out of his pocket, nimbly typing a message to Rossi before returning the phone to its home in his slacks. Trying to respect your peace, Spencer remained in the hallway, leaning back against the wall as he heard the familiar sound of Italian leather boots turning the corner. “Are you sure she didn’t mean Aaron?”
Spencer shook his head, mirroring the older man’s confusion, “She physically wrote your name out. She’ll only speak to you,” he answered, trying to hide his own pain for the sake of ridding you of yours. If you wouldn’t talk to your father or himself, it made the most sense that you’d talk to Rossi. You’ve known him the entire time your father worked in the BAU.
Shrugging, Rossi walked into your room and approached you with the care of a man approaching a deer. He remained this way until he made it to your bed, and Spencer watched as he smoothed your hair away from your face affectionately.
You leaned into his touch, and Spencer didn’t miss the cue. When was the last time anyone had touched you with love in their heart?
He had kissed you goodbye before you went on your run, just thirty minutes before your location turned off and your usual Thursday route turned into a hunting ground. With what you did for work, you switched paths frequently, but someone had been watching you, or at least, that was the conclusion the team had drawn.
Watching as Rossi spoke with you, Spencer noticed one anomaly – you weren’t speaking to him. Instead, all of his questions were answered with blinks or scribbling on paper.
The two of you went until a nurse came in, telling the both of you that they needed to run a few more tests. Taking his leave, Rossi told you something that Reid couldn’t quite make out and rejoined him in the hallway.
“What did you say to her? Just now?” Spencer asked, his need for any sort of contact with you becoming so desperate that he’d now accept it secondhand.
Frowning, Rossi placed both of his hands on his hips, “I called her piccolina, I used to call her that all the time when she was just a little thing running around the old BAU bunker.” Taking a moment, Rossi pulled out his little notebook and read through it. “White male, late twenties to early thirties, sometimes gone for days on end citing ‘work,’ but she never figured out what he did for work.”
Spencer’s eyes burned at the realization that you had been working your own case while being victimized, he peered in through the window as a nurse drew your blood.
“She said he drove a dark American sedan, making it either blue or black,” Rossi continued to list off, eyes following Blake as she approached the two of you. “Y/N said the car was filthy like he had been living out of it when he couldn’t get to her in the woods. The car had an Ohio party plate on it with expired tags.”
Blake arched a brow at the new information, “Party plate?” She said quizzically, looking at Spencer for clarification.
Nodding, Spencer looked over at his friend, “That’s the colloquial name for restricted license places. They’re given to people who are convicted of DUIs, which is actually called an OVI in Ohio. In Ohio, they’re yellow with red print, and the only state to have something similar is Minnesota where they call them whiskey plates because they all start with the letter W.”
“Well, he’s confident. Maybe too confident, driving around with expired tags and a license plate that already puts a spotlight on him,” Blake said thoughtfully, adding to the profile in her mind. “We should get this information to Garcia, maybe look for people who recently relocated from Ohio with those plates,” she suggested to Rossi.
Rossi nodded, skillfully flipping the cover back over his notepad and gesturing for Blake to follow him to the conference room, effectively leading Spencer to his own devices. When the nurse left to bring the vials of blood to the lab, he returned to your room, taking his seat on the edge of the room – as far away as he could get while keeping his eyes on you.
He looked up to your bed, catching you staring at him. As soon as you knew you had been caught, you turned your head to the other side, averting your gaze toward the window.
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Every thirty minutes or so, Spencer moved the chair approximately five inches closer to you, by four in the morning, he had closed half of the space between you. He kept his eyes on you, watching as you stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. You had that crease between your eyebrows that told him you were thinking too hard, and he had to sit on his hands to stop himself from reaching out and touching it as if he could soothe all of your bad thoughts.
In the doorway, Rossi had appeared, garnering your attention as you propped yourself up on the flat hospital pillows. “We got him,” Rossi announced to the room, a reserved smile on his face.
Spencer watched as you visibly relaxed on the bed, your face softened as your eyebrows relaxed. Rossi explained some next steps, but he was only half listening, he could only focus on you.
Once Dave was gone, Spencer took a leap of faith and shuffled the chair to your bedside, “How are you feeling, angel?” He asked, taking up a muted tone.
You stared at him, blinking at him until, eventually, your face crumpled, and you leaned toward him.
Not missing a beat, Spencer stood up from his chair so that he could sit on the edge of your bed, meeting you in the middle, he gently wrapped his arms around you, rubbing small, soothing circles along your back with the flat of his hand.
In the past twenty-eight days, Spencer thought that being reunited with you could fix all of the hurt in his chest, but this, right here, was a different kind of pain. Tears sept through the fabric of his shirt just as soon as they fell from your eyes, and all of the hurt that he had felt before just morphed into a different kind of suffering.
His heart ached at the sight of you in this much pain, so much emotional turmoil that you had silenced yourself. What was he supposed to say in order to comfort you? ‘You’re okay,’ was wholly false, and ‘it’s alright’ felt like a cruel joke. You very clearly weren’t okay, and none of this was alright.
“I’m here,” he reassured you, his voice no more than a croak as he tried to swallow his own emotions. “I’m right here,” he repeated, continuing his ministrations on your back until you had cried yourself to sleep.
With your body in its weakened state, Spencer carefully adjusted you onto the bed, making sure none of your tubes or wires were kinked before settling back down in his chair and taking your hand in his.
Around the time the sun came up, your care team came through for morning rounds and woke you up to thoroughly inspect your status. Once they left you to your own devices – with the promise of food in half an hour – Spencer focused all of his attention on trying to coax you into speaking to him.
Tenderly, he dragged a finger across your forehead before continuing down the bridge of your nose, “I’d really like to hear your voice, sweetheart.” His voice was gentle, maintaining a subdued tone in the early hours of the morning.
He watched as you sighed, deflating all of the air in your lungs as you tipped your head to the side, interrupting his movements. “I asked him to do it,” you murmured, voice raspy from lack of use.
“To do what?” Spencer asked, heart beating a little faster at the sound of your voice. He watched how you nervously gripped a fistful of sheets and looked at him. Only you weren’t looking at him, it was more like you were looking through him.
You took a deep, shuddering breath before you answered, “To kill me.”
The confession weighed heavy on his shoulders, but it wasn’t regarding anything against you. It was in the realization that you had been in so much physical and emotional turmoil while in captivity that you had asked for your own death. That even for a moment, you sat in front of a killer and asked for him to end your life as an act of mercy.
Noting Spencer’s lack of response, you continued speaking, “That’s why he let me go. I begged him to just end it and that took away any appeal for him.”
Last night. You had pleaded on behalf of your own demise last night. Carefully considering his next words, Spencer met your eyes and replied, “That must’ve taken a lot of courage.”
You faltered for a moment, evidently not having expected those words from him, “What are you talking about?”
It made sense to him now, why you wouldn’t talk to him or your dad. He felt like such a fool. You had been ashamed because you felt like your abductor had diminished your worth by breaking you down. Spencer knew better, “You stood your ground. You faced your own death, and you chose that over further suffering. Dying isn’t an undignified act, no matter how it comes upon you,” he reminded you, smoothing your hair away from your face as he watched your lip quiver.
“Thank you for staying,” you croaked as emotion closed your throat.
Spencer hummed thoughtfully, swiping a rogue tear from your cheek, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
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2K notes · View notes
princessbrunette · 5 months
Note
puppy!reader trying to break up with rafe or just distancing herself because she overheard someone saying they couldn’t understand how rafe could be with a pogue and it hurts her feelings and has her overthinking :( (obviously rafe later on gets her to tell him who said that and he deals with it)
꒰ ౨ৎ .ᐟ .ᐣ ᡣ𐭩
he was used to you being all over him. if you weren’t constantly yapping in his ear, you were using him like a climbing frame, subtly rubbing your needy cunt on his leg or trying to stick a body part of his in your mouth. so, the difference in your behaviour all of a sudden was palpable.
you’d been at the country club. not particularly because you liked it there, you knew despite recently joining the kook life people still saw you as less than — but you had to say, the icecream they served was top notch, and you wouldn’t keep yourself away despite being told off plenty of times by rafe for overdoing it on the sugar and then getting hyperactive.
you step away from the counter with your cone, smiling to yourself at the small victory when your ears picks up on a conversation round the corner. you stop in your tracks, realising it’s about you.
“i mean she’s definitely hot, i’ll give him that. in like, a weird way. she’s got the whole ‘fuck me daddy’ thing going on, you know. she’s helpless. rafes gotta be fuckin’ her.” a kook you didn’t even recognise comments, sipping at his beer.
“dont be weird, bro.” another turns his nose up.
“its true! i dont care man, i know rafe — he fuckin’ hates pogues, he wouldn’t be caught dead with one, ‘specially not one as obvious as her. the girls a mess, and mommy and daddy suddenly coming into money ain’t gonna change that about her.”
your heart sinks as you continue to listen to the berating. in the north carolina heat, icecream didn’t stay structurally sound for long — and you’re only dragged out of your eavesdropping session when the dome of strawberry icecream slides straight off its podium, splatting on the floor besides your sandals, leaving you with just the cone in your hand. you stare down at it, barely registering the loss.
you’d overthought it— something rather uncommon of you. when a few hours had passed, and rafe hadn’t had you hurtling through his front door with a ladybug on your finger or something of the sorts, he actually wondered where you might be— so he showed up at your door.
you wasn’t expecting him. he never chased you, always letting you come to him first — but something felt off, and his curiosity got the better of him.
“w—what is this, you not comin’ over to bother me today?” he shakes his head and your brows crease, staring at the eldest cameron in your doorway.
“no…” you reply quietly, even going the extra length to avoid his eyes. you weren’t trying to be obvious about it, but you couldn’t help that you were upset. he stares at you for a moment, unnerved by your unusual mood.
“…well can i come in or what?”
you allow him, purely because despite your mood you didn’t like to be impolite.
“whats up with you? i already told you to stop watchin’ those animal planet documentaries, kid. they upset you, alright i—”
“i wasn’t.” you snap, and he looks over — your tone grabbing his attention from wandering around your living room, seeing you standing in the corner clutching yourself like you didn’t know what to do. you were so used to being all over him that standing by yourself felt odd.
he scratches his cheek awkwardly, eyes flickering over you. “shit, you mad at me or somethin’?”
slowly, you sit down on the couch, tucking your feet beneath you.
“i’m just trying to give you space.”
he huffs a laugh out from his chest, thinking you’re joking — but his smile fades a little when he sees that you’re not. “yeah? you were all over me yesterday, now what — you shy?”
“i’m a pogue.” you raise your voice over his just a tad, bringing your knees to your chest. the statement catches him off guard, and he sways awkwardly on the spot, watching you.
“yeah no shit. so what.” he drawls, and his agreement stings.
“you hate pogues. so… you hate me.” you draw the conclusion and he fights an eyeroll, walking over to where you’re sat briskly.
“listen if i hated you you’d fuckin’ know about it, alright? i don’t hate you. you’re a pain in my ass, but… but nah.” he shakes his head, settling down on the seat next to you and pushing his hair back, not enjoying the idea of being vulnerable. it made him a little uncomfortable. “where… where is this coming from anyways? since when did you give a shit ‘bout all that?”
“since the people at the club were saying stuff.” you mutter, and now he’s really invested. his head snaps towards you, arm freezing in the air from pushing his hair out of his face. he could tolerate the weird moods, but he wouldn’t tolerate people disrespecting you or him.
“huh?”
your lip starts to tremble at the memory, voice growing higher as you speak. “there was a group of boys, and they were saying i was a mess and that im nothing and that you had to be fucking me because that’s the only thing i could offer you and i dropped my icecream and—”
“what?” he turns his whole body towards you as you let out a quiet sob, wide eyes darting between your wet one.
“i dropped my icecream!”
“no— kid, who was saying this shit?” his outrage is somewhat comforting and you sniffle, wiping your snotty nose on the back of your hand.
“i don’t know his name. he had a green shirt on.”
he leans back in his seat for a moment, wiping hands down his face — a little frustrated with your inability to identify the culprits. he pushes his palms into his eyes for a moment, realising it’s not your fault — and you were already upset. sighing out his nose, he looks at you once more, shuffling as close to you as he can.
“quit listenin’ to nobodies at the club, a’ight? you… you think people don’t say shit about me? running their mouth about my private business? they — they do, alright— but what i don’t do is cry about it n’let them think they won. i handle that shit, like i’m gonna handle this.”
you blink at him, hanging onto his every word. you really were adorable, and as much as he’ll never admit it, his heart softens at how sweet you were by nature. you didn’t deserve to be picked on by people that weren’t him.
“how do you know who they are?” you tilt your head, really emulating a puppy and he presses his lips together, shrugging a shoulder and shaking his head.
“uh, you’re gonna point ‘em out next time we go to the club. i’ll… i’ll handle it from there.”
you nod, hating that you’ve caused any kind of conflict at all, eyes drifting towards as you burrow yourself into thoughts of guilt. before you can think too much, rafe grips your jaw — meaning well, but still carrying that boyish roughness. “hey. you’re my girl, alright? i don’t let shit slide.”
he’d never called you his girl before, so instantly — you’re all sniffly smiles, launching at him to clamber onto his lap once more.
꒰ ౨ৎ .ᐟ .ᐣ ᡣ𐭩
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insanechayne · 2 months
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moonstruckme · 1 month
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hello mae baby please may you write a fic with anyone u like with a reader who is really drunk and the other person is taking care of her and she thinks she is annoying and they ar like why would u think that i love looking after u and some tenderness maybe with mauruaders but actually with whoever you’d like mae u are so nice and lovely and kind bye bye’!!!!
Hi lovely, thank you so much for requesting!
cw: alcohol
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
You know Remus is reading when you get home, because he doesn’t call for you and you are not quiet as you come inside. You drop your keys while trying to hang them on the hook, your bag bounces off the chair you toss it onto and falls noisily onto the floor, and your body lists as you walk towards your bedroom so that you bump your shoulder into the wall not once but twice. Your entry is a series of clatters and crashes and clunks, and yet when you make it to the bedroom your boyfriend’s attention is glued to his book as though by hypnosis. 
“Hi.” The word curves with the smile that takes you, tilting upwards. Remus looks up. 
“Hi, dovey.” He blinks foggily, taking you in with your hip leaned against the doorjamb and your ankles crossed awkwardly. “How was book club?” 
You feel your smile widen with delight. “It was great,” you profess. You aim for him, and Remus takes his book in one hand, holding the other out like he means to catch you. You land on the edge of the bed on your stomach, your feet dangling just above the floor behind you. “Everyone loved my banana bread.” 
“A show of good judgment,” Remus hums. He reaches behind you, helping you get your shoe off. “Is there any left?” 
One shoe comes free, and you let your foot fall back. “Mm, there was, but I left it for Maria.” 
Remus stops messing with your other shoe to look at you disappointedly. 
“I know, but she hosted! I had to be nice. I’ll make you another one soon.” 
He sighs, but it’s for show. Your other shoe slides off. “Fine, I suppose since she hosted.” 
“I knew you’d get it.” You pull your legs onto the bed and sit up, grinning at your boyfriend. He likes to play at selfishness, but you know he’d have done the same. Even if you’d asked, he would have told you to leave the bread. And he breaks easily now, returning your smile with one of his own. It feels like a warm tide rushing over you. 
“Oh. I feel like I should also warn you, I had quite a bit of wine.” 
Remus’ tongue presses into his cheek, a sort of outward-poking dimple. “Did you?”
“A little,” you say coyly, looking at him through your lashes. “It was sparkling and really yummy, what was I supposed to do?” 
“A valid point.” 
“So that’s just your warning. You’ve been warned.” 
“I will proceed with caution,” he assures you, a warmth to his voice. “What did everyone think of the book?”
“Oh.” You raise your eyebrows at him excitedly. “There was controversy. Big controversy. I super loved it, but a lot of other people thought it was the worst one she’d done so far!” 
“Really?”
“Yeah. They made some valid points, but I don’t know, maybe I’m easy to please, but I didn’t care about any of that stuff as much as I cared that I’d had a good time reading it, you know? And then everyone was giving their rankings of her books, and there were just some really crazy choices. Some people thought her second one was the best!” 
“No.” Remus manages to look upset for your sake, though he’s only heard about the books from you. “Did they really?” 
Your smile blooms anew at his enthusiasm, and you feel, suddenly urgently, that you’re not close enough to him. You move into his lap, but that’s not good enough either. At this point, Remus is looking at you with a fond, bemused sort of intrigue. You must be predictable enough, because only a soft puff of laughter exhales him when you start to worm your way under his sweater. 
It’s warm. You consider, for a moment, simply staying in there, with Remus’ chest and his smell and the sound of your own breathing, but ultimately decide you’d like to see him, too. You’d miss him too much. 
“Hello,” he says, not unhappily, as you break the surface of his neckline.
“Hi,” you say back. 
“To what do I owe this visit?” 
You shrug. It’s an odd movement, one of your shoulders stretching his sweater while the other bumps against his chest. “I wanted to be with you. It’s quite nice in here.” 
Remus only hums, tilting his head down to kiss your nose. It’s a slow, fond kiss, like he’s just decided to rest his lips there for a moment or two. It sends pleasant warm tingles from your face all the way down to your fingertips. 
“What else did you talk about?” he asks. 
“Hm?” 
“In book club.” 
“Oh. Well, not everyone there had read her other books, so we had to sort of get into the patterns and the things she always does. Some of it was routine for us, but totally unexpected for them, which makes sense I guess because…” 
You go on in circles and loops that even you can’t keep track of, your mind lax and happy and your lips moving seemingly on autopilot. You talk about the book itself and the people you read it with, and about the girl who’d hosted and how she’d had the cutest dog you’d ever seen, and does Remus remember that time you went to the animal shelter and saw that adorable puppy? Well, you mean no offense to the puppy because he was very cute, but this girl’s dog is even cuter than that. 
It’s an incalculable stretch of time later that you realize Remus has put down his book. 
“Oh, my god.” You lean your forehead on his shoulder. When you close your eyes, you feel like you’re floating. You really must be worse than you thought. “I’m so sorry. You were trying to read.” 
“Before you got home, yeah,” says Remus, his tone indulgent, “but now I’m talking to you.” 
“Yeah, because I won’t shut up because I’m all drunk,” you lament. “I know how annoying that is.” 
“Hey.” Your boyfriend’s voice is tender. “Who said anything about that? I’m not annoyed.” 
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, sweetheart. Why would you assume that I was? I love talking to you.” 
You try to look up at him, and your nose bumps his chin violently. “Oh.” You try to draw back, but there’s nowhere to go. You’re confined to the neckline of Remus’ sweater. One of your hands snakes up to touch clumsily at his chin. “Shit, I’m sorry.” 
Remus tsks, his own hands coming on either side of your face to hold you still. “Don’t worry, I’m alright. Are you?” He runs a thumb gingerly over the bridge of your nose. 
It’ll probably bruise a little tomorrow, but that’s not something you’re going to tell him tonight. “Yeah,” you say meekly. “Thanks for dealing with me. It’s really nice of you.” 
“Oh, don’t,” he shushes you, pressing another gentle kiss to your nose. “I’m not being nice, sweetheart. And you’re not something to be dealt with. I love looking after you; it doesn’t cost me anything to do it.” 
You try to shrink down inside his sweater, and Remus tsks. 
“Tell me this, if I was blackout and legless, would you mind chatting with me and taking care of me?” 
“I’m not blackout drunk, Rem.” 
“For argument’s sake, let’s say.” 
You press your lips together, not wanting to concede the argument but your answer categorical. “No.” 
“Right, because you’ve done it before.” Remus looks at you with equal parts kindness and knowingness. “And were you annoyed with me then?” 
You’re almost offended he’d ask. “Of course not.” 
“I see.” His tongue pokes into his cheek again, lips quirking slightly. “Seems like that sort of thing might go both ways, no?” 
You push your face into his neck and sigh hard into his skin, making a little sound bubble up in his chest that sounds suspiciously giggle-esque. 
“You don’t always have to be right, you know.” 
“I usually am, though.” He wraps his arms around his own front, giving you a squeeze. “Best settle into that fact, dovey. It’ll make things much more efficient for us both.” 
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gallavichsreddie1128 · 2 months
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Viral Video (Homelander)
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Description: Homie and Y/N make a porn video together.
Warning: Smut
Word Count:1,420k
Request: Hey, could you write a Homelander x reader fic where the reader is a secret cam girl or stripper and HL finds out.
Author’s Note: I kinda changed it up a bit but hope you like it!
Homelander was a famous being that the world knew. He was on magazines and posters all across the world. The last thing he should be doing is a porn video with his girlfriend. Y/N was a cam girl that did stuff for people on camera and got paid for it. The money she brought in for it was great and Homelander couldn’t be upset about it. He watched all her lives and videos like a fan but to star in one. He wasn’t sure.
The world had no idea that he was dating someone like her. He couldn’t just star in a porn video for the world to see him. Sure he liked fucking his girl in public spots but nobody knew. He would do it on high buildings or in the sky but this? Everyone would see this. So when she brought up the idea he froze, “You want me to do porn with you?” He asked. She nodded like it was no big deal. “Babe, I’m famous, I can't just star in porn.” He said with a chuckle. “Sure you can.” She said. “Everyone would see me.” She didn’t see the big deal out of it. “So?” His face dropped at her carelessness. “I am a fucking hero. Kids look up to me.” He growled.
“Okay well we can make sure it’s known it’s not you.” She said. His face showed that he was confused. “What do you mean?” He asked. “Like I could just suck your dick. Your face doesn’t have to be on camera.” She said, he hummed. “Just my dick?” He asked and she nodded. He couldn’t say no to that. But she had other ideas in mind. 
It would be the following day that she set up her camera to film. Her camera was a very professional and expensive one that she got from the money she made. Homelander was not in his suit but in nothing with a hard on as he watched his scantily clad girlfriend set it up. “So after I suck your dick I am going to ride your face but again your actual face won’t be shown.” She said and turned towards him. He liked the sound of that. “So where do you want me?” He asked and she thought for a moment.
“Sit on the edge of the bed and I’ll zoom in on your dick.” She said. He did as he was told and she zoomed a little on his dick that was hard. “Okay so I am going to get in camera view and we will go from there.” She said and started the recording. She got in the view of the camera and gave a smile before crawling over to John who already had a boner. He was big and she knew people would get a kick out of seeing her suck a dick since she had never done it.
John watched her as crawled over to him. He watched her chuckle and lick her lips as she stared at his cock. He wanted to tell her to do something already but couldn’t use his voice. She took her hand and started stroking it. She giggled as he tensed up and tried not to make sound. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her hand. Her other hand moved to his balls to massage. He held back a groan that threatened to release.
Her hand picked up the pace and he bit his lip hard. She wanted him to make noise but understood why he couldn’t. He wanted her mouth on him but didn’t know how to tell her without words. He had hoped that she would put her mouth on him before he came. She luckily removed her hand from his dick and replaced it with her mouth. She had the camera angled perfectly so everyone could see his dick going in and out her mouth.
Her hand never left his balls and even started massaging faster. He looked down at her and let out a groan. She looked so hot with his dick stuffing her mouth. He was so big that whatever didn’t fit she had her hand on. He got the idea to fuck her mouth and started moving his hips. He silently moaned at the feeling and through his hand back. Y/N got faster with her movements wanting him to cum for her. She figured she would swallow and save the mess.
He began twitching in her mouth not long after and tried so hard to not make too much noise but when he came he couldn’t help it and moaned loudly as his white sticky substance went down her throat. He had hoped that nobody caught on to him with the moan. She milked him and removed his dick from her mouth. She licked her lips and removed any cum that was on her mouth was a cute giggle as she stared up at him. He wanted to fuck her so bad but knew that it wasn’t the time.
She winked at him and got up. She went and grabbed the camera and made sure his face wasn’t in it before pushing him back down on the bed. She turned the camera towards her while she straddled him and moved up to his face. She bit her lip as he pulled her hips forward with his hands. Her pussy was soaked and nearly dripping on his face. It was a pretty sight and almost worth having the world know his identity.
She gasped as he pulled her down to sit on his face. His nose was on her clit and his tongue near her hole. Her jaw dropped as he began circling her wet hole with his tongue. She gulped and kept eye contact with the camera as she felt him pleasure her. His hands that gripped her hips moved her over his face causing her to moan out as his nose bumped her clit with each thrust. Her one hand that wasn’t holding the camera leaned down and gripped his hair. “Fuck.” She whined as his tongue was inserted in her hole.
She threw her head back and humped his face more. The bed was squeaking at this point but her moans were so loud that there was no way anyone could hear it. John moaned into her pussy causing her to squeak at the vibration. Her moans were music to his ears and her pussy tasted amazing. Her humping his face caused her orgasm to come a lot faster. “I’m gonna cum.” She cried as her hips and thighs started shaking. John pulled away from her pussy. “Show the camera you cumming on my face. I don’t give a fuck who sees me.” He said and she turned the camera showing his face.
He pulled her back on his face and continued the action. Her orgasm that faded when he pulled away quickly came back and was more intense. Her cries were directly in the speaker as she rode his face. His eyes were closed enjoying her tastes and sounds but it was evident that it was him. “John fuck baby I’m gonna cum.” She whined and all he did was move faster. She screamed loudly as she came all over his lips and nose.
Her moans were still going as she rode out her orgasm until she was too sensitive. She sat up and showed his nose and mouth covered in her slick as it dripped on his face. He looked like he was heaven. Her hand that was in his hair moved to his lips and rubbed her cum all over them before he took her 2 fingers in his mouth was sucked on them. He moaned at the taste as she chuckled. “Such a good boy.” She said as he stared up at her.
She got off him and showed the camera her cum soaked pussy and rubbed her fingers on it. She gasped at the sensitivity. John watched her as she sucked on one of her fingers and winked at the camera. She ended the video and looked over at him. “Are you sure you’re okay with your face being in it?” She asked. “Yeah cuz that was hot.” She smirked at him and got up. “I have to upload it so what should I call it?” She asked walking to the computer. “Viral video.” He said and she looked back at him with a smirk. It would indeed be a viral video.
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