#I'm so sorry it took me a full day to answer this

[brawberryz]

Little Demon

Batfam Yan! × Neglected Nezuko! Reader

Note:English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error

You were normal

You weren't the monster you've become, before everything you were just an ordinary high school student

Everything had happened so fast that you didn't even have time to process it

A few hours ago everything was normal

You woke up as usual adding yourself to go to class, you greeted alfred while you were having breakfast

Breakfast felt as lonely as always your family was never present not even in things as common as having breakfast together as a family

No one ever had time for you, everyone was so busy with their responsibilities and you understood it, you always understood

They were vigilant and you knew they had a lot of responsibilities on their shoulders but sometimes you would like them to look at you or ask you how your day was

If someone in the family turned to look at you or talk to you it was a miracle, the only person you had by your side was alfred

He was a father figure more than your real father could be

Bruce, as you called him because father was too big a name for someone like him, maybe he wasn't even worthy of being called father

You saw his relationship with the rest of your siblings and how he treated them with so much respect and affection

At some point you felt jealous, why was he so good to them? Why couldn't you feel that affection

Why?

Why!?

Nobody took care of you or protected you, since you were little you understood that if you didn't protect yourself nobody would

Everyone had talents and they were amazing

You were just (name), the shadow of the family because the only thing that was important was having the last name Wayne, but then you were nobody

You were never anybody

You stopped thinking so much and picked up your bag and walked out the door of the mansion giving Alfred a last goodbye

_

Classes went by faster than you would like, school was a safe place for you, there you could be yourself with your friends

To your friends you weren't (name) Wayne, the daughter of a billionaire playboy, you were just a (name) L/N a girl full of energy and eager to help others

You lazily got up from your seat grabbing your bag heading to the classroom door

There was Aoi waiting for you as usual, you were grateful to have such a good friend like her

"You look more tired than usual, is something wrong (name)?"

The black-haired girl asks worriedly, walking with you to the exit. You just nodded, giving her a fake smile.

"Yeah, don't worry, I just didn't sleep well today."

That's a lie. You had slept more than well, but since this morning you had felt that something was wrong, as if something bad was about to happen.

You couldn't shake that feeling off after hours. You decided to ignore it, but that feeling still remained.

Aoi just nodded, unsure of your answer. She had been your friend for years and she knew you too well to know when something was bothering you.

"Hey, today me and shinobu are going to a new cafe that opened. Do you want to go?"

You stayed quiet for a few seconds thinking about the proposal, you liked going out with your friends but this time you felt like you shouldn't go

"I'm sorry aoi but... I'm really busy today I have homework to do"

You politely apologized to her

Aoi raised an eyebrow, there was something she didn't like, she knew something was happening to you but she wasn't going to force you to tell her, she didn't want it to seem like she was someone insistent

She simply gave you a nod and then looked ahead, this was where your paths separated as you lived on totally opposite streets

She gave you a big hug as a farewell and then separated from you with a smile on her face

"See you tomorrow (name), take care!"

He said as he shook his hand and his presence disappeared more and more as he walked away

You let out a tired sigh before turning on your heels and taking the path home

You walked with your head down, your thoughts consumed your head that you didn't even notice the imminent danger that was approaching you

You didn't understand why your family seemed to hate you, you were always obedient, good and polite

You were the best in your class and you had great intelligence but you were still invisible to all of them

Sometimes you just wanted to disappear, being someone else didn't matter you just wanted to leave

But you knew that until you turned 18 it would be impossible to get out of that house

You were so distracted in your thoughts that you didn't even have time to react before something too strong pushed you into a dirty alley

You tried to get up and defend yourself but that strange man grabbed you by the neck cutting off your breathing and not being able to get up

As your vision blurred you could see his red eyes and a cynical smile forming on his lips

The last thing you felt was something embedded in your neck causing you to lose consciousness

Everything was black, you couldn't move or feel anything

So you died?

Is this how it all ended? Dying in a dirty alley full of trash and rats?

Maybe this is what you deserved, you were never anything important just trash

And trash should stay with trash, right?

Alfred ran at full speed through the mansion towards Bruce's office, he couldn't believe that this had happened

He slammed open the door to Bruce's office causing Bruce to stop concentrating on the paperwork to look at his butler

It was too strange for Alfred to enter without knocking, and he was also struck by Alfred's worried and disheveled attitude

Only something too important or serious would have to happen to break Alfred's impeccable personality

"Master Bruce...Miss (name)..."

The old man struggled to find air in his lungs, having run all over the mansion had left him exhausted

"What's wrong with her? Don't tell me she got into trouble-"

Alfred interrupted Bruce in the middle of his sentence to speak again

"No...she...she's dead"

Those words hit Bruce hard

Dead?

Your death couldn't be true, it had to be some kind of joke

"What?"

It was the only thing he could say in shock, he knew that Alfred would never lie to him, much less about a subject as serious as death

But his brain simply couldn't process it

_

The entire batfam was at the police station, the news of your death shook the entire family in a bad way

Now they were here to identify your body, they found it in an alley according to the police record a woman who was passing by found your body covered in blood that was supposed to have been yours

According to the police it was a very crude and bloody crime scene

They couldn't believe that someone would be capable of doing that to a being as innocent as you

The simple fact that someone had done all those things to you made everyone's blood boil with rage

Richard felt terrible, remembering all the times you asked him to spend time together and he simply made the excuse that he was busy or that he didn't have time

He was the worst brother, he was supposed to be the oldest one who should have protected you but all he did was push you away and cause your premature death

Jason could barely handle all the emotions he felt at that moment, he felt rage, sadness and regret

He still remembered the times he had insulted you and told you not to interfere in his life

No matter what he had to do, he was going to avenge his little sister and he was going to make the person who had done that to you suffer

In Tim's head he tried to find some possible suspect for your death, maybe the joker had already killed Jason once, it was just a matter of time before he did it again

He could still remember the times he had ignored you, that moment when you made cupcakes was still in his mind and you had the brightest smile of all

You had prepared them especially for your family but all you received was their rejection telling you that they were busy

Remember the rude way in which I refused your food and asked you to leave, right now, anything to be able to be with you and try your desserts

Damian was burning with fury, who was the bastard who dared to kill his sister!?

He, unlike the rest, didn't want to accept his guilt. He firmly believed that the times he had hit you, humiliated you, and insulted you were for your own good.

You should know well that you were too weak for this world, that he was your protector.

Cass could barely process everything. She had lost another important person to her again, and this time it was her fault again.

She leaned against a corner and let her thoughts consume her. She felt the worst. Maybe if she had paid attention to you, you would be alive now.

Barbara felt the same way as Richard. She still remembered the times you begged for her attention, wanting to spend time with her, but she only pushed you away more and more each day.

Steph could only stare at the floor. It was her fault for ignoring you. She thought that at some point you would adapt to the mansion, but it never happened. All she did was make you feel more like a burden and a nuisance.

But the one who felt the worst was Bruce. He was supposed to be your father, he was supposed to be the first to protect you. But he didn't. All he did was ignore you

He was the worst father ever, now because of him you were dead

They took him to a room to identify your body and left him there alone for a few minutes

Right there he collapsed, his serious and unwavering facade broke

His daughter, his baby is now dead because of him, he would do anything to revive you, he would even use the Lazarus pit even knowing the consequences that caused

But suddenly he felt like something lunged at him

And there was you

Alive

You were alive in some way, but he saw that it wasn't you...

Your eyes had that wild look, your teeth were sharp and long nails that you had never had before

He grabbed a metal pipe he found on the floor and tried to fight you by putting it in your mouth so that you wouldn't bite him or disfigure his face with your claws or teeth

Your strength was superhuman, as if you were no longer the (name) that he knew

Now you had become something wilder

But he felt small tears falling on his face, he was crying

It seemed as if a part of you was trying to control your instincts, he noticed your distressed and scared look

Suddenly Richard entered the room with Jason

They had heard a loud noise coming from the room

The men's faces were surprised when they saw you alive

Or rather, you didn't look human and your skin looked paler

Also, your hair had changed, the tips that were completely black before were now orange

The two quickly came out of their trance and helped Bruce get you off of them, you were still struggling and trying to get out of their grip

Then Damian and Tim appeared through the door when they heard all the commotion

Before either of them could speak, Richard interrupted them

"There's no time for explanations, distract the police now!"

He said trying to keep you from getting out of the grip, Tim and Damian just nodded confused as they went with the others to distract the guards

Meanwhile Jason decided that the best idea was to knock you out so he did, but he earned a scolding from Bruce for hitting you so hard

"Stop complaining so much and be thankful we didn't let her kill you"

He said dryly, he saw how you fell surrendered to his arms, for now they should find a way to get you out of here without anyone noticing

_

The days passed quickly in the mansion, they had you with a kind of muzzle on your mouth to prevent any incident

Although after having "revived" you were only aggressive once, to tell the truth this version of you was much calmer and less energetic than the previous one

After Bruce asked Constantine for help he told him that most likely you had been turned into a demon and that if they wanted you to be human again the person that turned you into a demon was supposed to turn you back into a human

For days the batfam spent their time investigating and trying to find information about the person who did that to you but they found almost nothing

But almost nothing was that bad, it seemed you rejected human flesh and blood and you recovered energy by sleeping, you didn't need to eat or drink water just sleep

Most of the day (not to say all day) you spent somewhere in the mansion sleeping

Everyone fought over who would cuddle with you during your morning nap, they agreed on a deal that every day of the week it would be a family member's turn to sleep with you and take care of you

And after everything worked, most of your memories disappeared so they didn't have to worry about you remembering what horrible siblings they were

They also found out that you can't be in the sun unless you want to disintegrate and die

Tim thought it was a good idea to open the windows so you could see the sun after so long

Tim's expression The horror on his face was great when he saw how your skin began to burn and how you screamed in pain

He quickly closed the windows and approached you to see your condition

Luckily your regenerative abilities were very helpful, but Tim still didn't escape Bruce's scolding and you think Damian almost killed Tim that day

You could say that the days in the mansion were good, of course sometimes you would like to go out and see other places but you knew it would be impossible

The batfam preferred to die rather than let you wander alone through the streets of Gotham again, in their eyes you were still that weak little girl even knowing that you could easily kill them all

For now you should get used to this life until they find a cure

But you shouldn't worry, when you are cured they will never let you go again

Never

I finished this quicker than I thought

I hope you like it because I probably won't upload anything for 3 or 4 days

byeee

[devilcatdarling]

Hollow, Ghost

7, 12, 13

Hope you don't mind that there are many of these :>

Ok so I did #12 and #13 for Hollow in another answer recently so be sure to check out the "#Hollow Knight Asks" tag for my page! I'll do #7 for Hollow here since I've not done that one for them yet and then the rest for Ghost!

7. the moment of theirs that made me the happiest

- Hollow: it's a tie between them walking out of the temple in Embrace the Void and them going batshit on Radiance in Dream No More. They get so little screentime in game so the absolute bad bitch energy of "I win and there's nothing you can do about it" in both of these endings made me go feral and I (accidentally) slammed my Xbox controller down during their two seconds of (half) onscreen time in ETV and the poor controller still makes a rattling sound to this day lol. The fact they gave us a canon ending where Hollow lives and actually staggers out. Yes I know DNM is more popular but ETV is the cope I needed mentally for the "you thought you'd seen the last of me! Surprise! I survived through all this shit and will live while the gods responsible roll around in their graves" and will gladly grab and run with it like the feral little rat that I am

-Ghost: shade lord Super Saiyan transformation complete with happy meal snacking Radiance and then Godseeker as desert because she talked so much shit. Something about the entire ETV ending timeline where Ghost looks at the other solutions and says "nah" and goes through so much so they get to smack the Radiance around like a squeaky dog toy is my favorite thing for them. I literally yelled "YES GET HER ASS! YOU TELL HER!" when they go for Radiance and then I just dissolved into ungraceful incoherency when they snatch Godseeker up like the last Pringle chip in the can. Ghost got what Ghost deserved lol

12. what I like about the way the fandom portrays them

Ghost- I like the specific flavor of fandom Ghost where they're this absolute force of (controlled) chaos. A bundle of fully-capable-of-mass-destruction God wrapped neatly in this tiny potato form and they are quiet and observant, giving little ability to read them as they observe the world. An enigma. They give off this older-than-time-and-knowing-beyond-comprehension feel and yet at any moment they want to they're going to whip out the nail and smash some shit to see what it does or buy an overpriced new lantern or charm they don't need because it's sparkly and looks cool. I love the carefully calculated balance between "This is an ancient force capable of swallowing gods and unleashing hell upon the unfortunate and it's face and body language gives nothing away" and "this is a shiny button that says Do Not Press and I'm going to press it anyway because I can and ooooo is that a rotten egg? I need it right now"

13. what I don't like about how the fandom portrays them

Ghost- ehhh probably when people make them TOO overly emotional and openly expressive. So little is elaborated about their backstory that there's nothing that really bothers me too bad, though I like when they have a careful balance of some childlike wonder in the world, mixed with this muted sense of an ageless otherworldly creature with a quiet way of doing things. Ghost is kinda an enigma in that we don't really know WHY they are the way that they are. They seemingly hatched with Hollow and are a clutchmate so they're definitely not a "baby" in that sense, but physically Hollow matured into adult form whereas Ghost apparently didn't. Is it because they needed something external to promote growth into an adult molt that they were deprived of? Are they even Hollow's past hatchmate or just the Shade god of the abyss condensing itself into a form tied to the Hollow Knight's greatest regrets to allow it to move more freely? Either way they clearly have a will and certain desires, but it's muted in such a way that just really seems to fit with their mysterious persona and when people make them too openly clingy and visibly expressive in their motivations it kinda turns me off. "What are they doing and why?" As they do things with little elaboration and explanation fits better for them imo

[lovelucilfer]

chels! i’ve been meaning to stop by and ask a few questions anyway so here i am! delivering a little pick me up 🪄

- what do you remember feeling the first time you ever saw sasuke? has he ever shared with you what his first impression was and if so, what was it like?

- what are some of your favorite things to do together? has he picked up any of your hobbies and sort of claimed them as his own?

- when you envision a perfect future for the two of you, what does it look like?

KENDALL!!! 🥹💖

Come here so I can smooch you on the forehead stat!! Thank you so much for this, I'm soft already. 🥺 These questions are so good, please be patient with me, some lore is still in development. >.<

Curiosity and intrigue, and a sort of cautious attraction? I can't help but to be drawn to the quiet, intellectual, thoughtful types, and of course Sasuke is very pretty. In my selfship au I think I know of Sasuke before he is ever aware I exist. We actually sort of get set up by Sakura and Naruto (which is it's own separate story), and meet formally ahead of a mission we're assigned to together. I think he's impressed by how observant I am, and appreciates that I don't talk a lot at first or ask a lot of personal questions! 🙈

We like having late night conversations on rooftops!! Staring out into the quiet, mostly vacant streets of the village as they're lit by the moon~ Sasuke likes that it feels like it's just the two of us in the world in those moments, they ground him. We also love long walks, any and every chance at quality time we can have. 💕 He let me try to teach him how to paint once but he gave up very early out of embarrassment that he was 'bad' at it (as if he could be bad at anything).

Ahhh jnfvhdjvbd as for a perfect future for chelsuke?? I envision it as one where Sasuke gets to embrace his soft side, learns how to live alongside his sadness and traumas of the past, to sit with it and accept it, see himself through my eyes, let himself be loved and in turn give his own love more openly. Not just to me, but to his friends/found family and our three lil' kiddos!! (I will never forgive boruto for making Sasuke an absent father, it doesn't make any sense to me). And one where we get to grow old together peacefully. 🥰💗

Thank you so much again jdhfjbsjhdfbjd I could cry 😭

[drop-dead-dropout]

and even then, that won't help if you're institutionalized as a minor.

You wanna actually help institutionalized mentally ill people? Get them legal help. Post their rights on the walls. Give them access to phones and lawyers. “My small business sells cutsie scrubs for inpatients!!!” literally nobody cares what they are wearing in the fucking hospital but you Becca. shut the fuck up

[loveritas]

Kinktober Day 4 - Brat Taming with Ryomen Sukuna

contains: nsfw content:(mdni), fempov, pnv (unprotected), creampie, spanking, orgasm denial, oral (reader giving), v brief breath play, no aftercare, this is consensual but it might seem dubcon at times so i'll say that just in case

˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc:- 7.3k (sorry!)

an: if you saw this yesterday, tumblr ate most of it, so this is the proper version with the full 7k

The air was tight in the luxurious chambers, thick with the underlying current of power and danger that came with being near Sukuna. You knew it all too well, and still, today you chose to push the boundaries.

Maybe it was the way his attention had moved onto others, or maybe you just wanted to feel his power focused on you. Either way, your defiance had earned you more than a few sharp looks throughout the day.

He had been so patient at first, watching as you deliberately disobeyed his orders, meeting his gaze with a silent challenge in your eyes. It was a dangerous game, one which you knew would only end one way, but a small part of you relished it, even craved the inevitable punishment that would follow.

Piqued annoyance now danced in his expression as you stood before him in the dark-lit room. The light of the candles danced across his tattooed skin as he leaned back into the cushion, arms over his chest, eyes intent on him-like some sort of predator sizing his prey.

"You have been bold today, haven't you?" Sukuna said, his voice low and almost a purr, but beneath the smoothness lay a warning. Crimson eyes shone with something dark and predatory as he watched you with unsettling intensity.

You didn't move, not as your heart raced in your chest; your eyes still flashed defiance, though it wavered a little under his gaze. Sukuna noticed, of course-he noticed everything.

He laughed darkly, the sound rumbling through the room like distant thunder. "What's the matter? The little concubine thinks she can disobey her king?" His voice was thick with mockery, but beneath it lay an unmistakable edge of menace.

You still wouldn't back down, even as the chill ran down your spine. "I'm not scared of you," you said-the defiance in your voice, a lot stronger than the quiver in your chest.

His smirk only widened, eyes glinting in the low light. "Is that so?" He pushed off from the cushions, standing to his full height in a fluid-almost graceful-movement. Sukuna towered over you, the suffocating presence of his power that made the air around you thick and heavy.

He took a slow, deliberate step toward you, each step echoing in the chamber as he never so much as broke gaze with yours. “You forget your place, little one. And I think it’s about time I remind you exactly who you answer to.”

You swallowed hard but stood your ground, your heart pounding while he drew nearer. He was testing you now, pushing the limits of your defiance, testing how far you would go. But you couldn't halt the quickening of your pulse in anticipation, the thrill coursing through you despite the danger.

Sukuna stopped only a few millimetres away from you, his giant physique casting a shadow over your small frame. He cocked his head as he reached out, crimson eyes shining with dark humour, and brushed one of his hands against your cheek, the touch feather light, deceptive.

"You've been a brat all day," he mused, the soft low tone of his voice a direct contrast to the danger swimming inside him. "And I'm not fond of brats. You know that."

And before he could receive a reaction from you, the other hand shot out, clutching at your chin in a firm grip, making you look up at him. His touch wasn't gentle anymore; it was commanding, dominant, a silent reminder of who was in charge here.

"You really think you can challenge me?" His voice now a dark growl, his eyes narrowing as he watched you struggle to hold his gaze. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, teasing, almost mocking, as he leaned down closer. "You forget who I am, don't you?"

You shivered, but the stubborn fire in your eyes remained, even as his grip tightened slightly, his thumb pressing against your lip until you parted them with a soft gasp; he smirked, clearly amused despite himself.

“I could break you,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous as his lips hovered just above yours. “Make you beg for me. But I can also make you wait… draw it out until you remember who’s in control.”

The heat between your bodies flared and he held you there, so close yet still out of reach. The tension was palpable, a heady mix of desire and fear as the resolve within you started to crumble under the fierce stare that bound you against your will to him.

When he finally moved, it was with brutal precision. Sukuna spun you around, pressing your front to the cool wall of the chamber with ease, one hand tangled in your hair as he pulled your head back slightly. "You wanted my attention, didn't you?" he said, his voice a dangerous whisper in your ear as his hot breath danced across your skin, his hand trailing down your back. “Well, now you have it.”

You gasped, your body arching instinctively into his touch as his hand slid lower, gripping your hips possessively. “Don’t think for a second that you can get away with this behaviour” he growled, his voice a dangerous promise as his fingers dug into your flesh.

Sukuna yanked your hips back against him, his body pressing firmly against yours as he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re going to regret testing me,” he whispered darkly, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. His hand slid around to your front, teasing you just enough "Now," he growled huskily, the scent of dominance emanating s he leaned in closer, his lips grazing your neck and nipping the sensitive skin there to set fireworks, something he could so easily do with a mere touch. "Beg me to put you back in your place."

You knew he was playing with you, waiting for you to submit again, but you couldn't help how your body betrayed you-the pooling of heat so low in your stomach as his words fired up something deep inside. Caged in his grip, cornered against the wall, you still couldn’t refrain from pushing once more.

“No.”

“No? Okay.” he chuckled darkly, his tone shifting from playful to deadly serious. “Strip.”

You briefly turned your head and looked at him, unsure and as you hesitated, he added with a wicked smirk, “Do it or I’ll do it for you.”

The thought of him tearing the delicate fabric from your body sent a thrill through you. The weight of his gaze bore down on you, and you felt the pull of his dominance wrapping around you like a shroud. Your heart raced with the thrill of the challenge, but a deeper part of you—a primal instinct—began to ache for his approval.

With a deep breath, you decided to relent, knowing that fighting him any longer would only provoke him further. You turned your back to him and slowly began to slide the silk off your shoulders, letting the fabric slip down your arms. The dress pooled at your feet, baring your skin to him. The cool air brushed against you, sending goosebumps cascading across your body as you stood looking vulnerable before him.

Yet despite that, his eyes never wavered to admire your body, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you naked before but right now he didn’t seem the least bit interested.

You faced him, expecting praise or the usual good girl, but he said nothing. The silence stretched between you, heavy and charged, making your heart race with both anticipation and confusion. Sukuna’s gaze was piercing, roaming over your exposed form, and you could feel the intensity of his scrutiny igniting something deep within you—a desperate yearning for his approval.

You swallowed hard, the heat pooling in your stomach igniting a mixture of shame and desire. Sukuna was playing with you, aware of your need for his validation, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of submission and rebellion.

“Please,” you whispered, desperate to shift the balance back in your favour, to spark that glimmer of approval in his eyes. “I just wanted—”

“What?” he interrupted, tilting his head slightly, that smirk still firmly in place. “Attention? Affection? Or perhaps you wanted to remind me how unruly you can be?”

The words were both exhilarating and terrifying, as you recognized the game he was playing. Sukuna knew exactly what you craved and was determined to toy with it, twisting your desires into something that left you vulnerable.

“You should know by now,” he continued, leaning closer until you could feel the warmth radiating off him. “My favourite concubine doesn’t act like this.” he whispers as his hand cups your face. “She knows her place—knows how to please me.”

Your heart clenched at his words, the subtle reminder of your position stoking the embers of your longing. You craved his approval, his affection, and each taunt felt like a jagged edge against your pride. But the harder he pushed, the greater the need for his acknowledgment became.

"Look at you, practically begging for it," he teased, his voice low as his fingers brushed over the uncovered skin of you. "But you'll learn, in time, that defiance only leads to disappointment."

With a predatory grace, Sukuna shifted, his gaze never leaving yours as he sat down on the edge of his royal bed, the dark fabric of the covers contrasting sharply against his skin. The way he was sitting-relaxed, yet commanding-sent a shiver of anticipation running down your spine.

"Come here," he ordered; it was an order reverberating with a sternness that was impossible to disregard. Your heart racing, you moved closer until the space between you two was charged with tension. "Get over my knee," he said, the corners of his mouth raising into a sly grin. The words were spoken as though this was a test, a test of how well you'd do.

The heat in your cheeks flared as you hesitated, caught between pride and the undeniable desire to submit. But the need for his approval was overwhelming, and as you moved closer, the thrill of obedience battled against your rebellious spirit.

Sukuna’s gaze held you captive, eyes glimmering with amusement as he patted his knee, the gesture both inviting and authoritative. “I won't ask twice," he warned, his voice low and full of promise.

You swallowed hard as you took a deep breath and realised it was your call. You leaned over reluctantly, laying across his lap and positioning yourself, your hands resting on the coolness of the sheets-a sharp contrast to the heat emitting from your body.

“There we go” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he rested a hand on your back, keeping you in place.

As you settled over him, a rush of vulnerability coursed through you, yet beneath it lay a profound sense of longing for his approval, making it impossible to feel anything but exhilarated. In that moment, you knew there would be no escaping the power he held over you/

His hand travelled further up your thigh, fingers teasingly close to your ass but never quite crossing that line. It was an intentionally deliberate choice, placing you on edge, and you could feel that anticipation, coiling in your belly like a spring, ready to burst.

"Remember," he warned, his voice dropping to that low growl again, "Just because I'm kinder to you than the rest does not mean I won't punish disobedience." You swallowed hard as your heart began to pound with what was to come. You could feel the power dynamic shifting, the game the two of you were playing getting heavier with every passing second.

Sukuna's hand came down sharp against your ass, the loud smack reverberating through the room and slapping you back into reality. A gasp escaped your lips, half in surprise, half in delight at the sting that suddenly fired into your skin. It was a delicious concoction of pain and pleasure, which left you short of breath as you adjusted to the sensations that swirled around you.

"Count," he instructed, his voice firm, yet laced with underlying humour. "Loudly. I want to hear you."

"One," you exhaled the word as it tumbled from your lips, your heart racing wildly as you fought to steady it. The thrill of it all, mixed with your need for his approval, had you wanting each strike more than the last.

Sukuna's hand lingered on the curve of your ass for a moment before falling again in a sharp slap, the sound echoing off stone walls. You gasped again, a mixture of shock and thrill racing through you as the sting blossomed into a warm ache.

“Two,” you gasped, as you fought against the swell of emotions within you.

He lifted his hand, but this time he held back just before the strike, making you tense in anticipation. The sudden hesitation had you bracing for impact, but then he only gently smoothed his palm flat against your skin, teasing you with his warmth.

But before you could even acknowledge it, a sudden one came down on your other ass cheek.

“Three,” you managed to say, voice trembling slightly, the sensation catching you off guard as he switched up the rhythm.

“Good,” he replied, and the next strike came almost immediately after, catching you off guard. “Four!” you exclaimed, the sound of his hand meeting your skin sending shockwaves through your body.

He continued this pattern, alternating between sharp slaps and moments of tension where he would simply tease you, leaving you breathless and on edge. Sometimes, he would deliver a strike that felt harder than the last, and other times he’d pull back, letting you feel only the ghost of his hand as your body quivered in anticipation.

You felt yourself teetering on the brink of overwhelming sensations as you counted up to ten, each strike igniting a fiery mixture of pleasure and pain that coursed through your body. Each impact left you breathless, the rhythm of his hand striking you creating a melody of desire that echoed in your mind.

“Eleven” you finally gasped, the word escaping your lips as you savoured the ache that lingered in your skin.

Sukuna paused, letting the silence stretch between you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze on your back, assessing and possessive. The air was thick with tension, and you could sense the power dynamics shifting once more.

“Are you sorry?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, sending a thrill down your spine.

You bit your lip, a mix of defiance and longing swirling within you as you processed his question. The sharp sting of his earlier strikes still pulsed against your skin. The heat emanating from your skin, a reminder of your rebelliousness, yet the way he held you—firm, possessive—made your heart race with exhilaration.

“Sorry?” you repeated, tilting your head slightly to look at him over your shoulder. You could see the smirk playing on his lips, the amusement dancing in his eyes. The challenge was palpable; he wanted you to say it, to acknowledge your submission in a way that would give him satisfaction. Yet all that came out of your mouth was…

“I don’t know yet-”

“Do you even know what you want?” he pressed, his voice smooth and taunting. “Because I can give you everything, but you seem intent on making this harder for yourself.”

“Do you want my approval?” he asked, his voice a sultry caress that made your heart race. The question hung between you, laden with implications that sent a shiver down your spine. “You know I could give it to you if you just admit what you truly want.”

As if sensing the conflict within you, he slowly guided you off his lap, the absence of his warmth leaving you yearning for more. You hesitated for a moment, caught in the limbo of desire and pride, before he leaned back slightly, a glimmer of challenge in his gaze. “Get on your knees,” he commanded, the authority in his voice making it impossible to resist.

The command was a double-edged sword, igniting a rush of eagerness and vulnerability in your chest. There was something intoxicating about being at his mercy, and even as the thought of submission sent pangs of uncertainty through you, the need for his love and approval surged stronger than your pride.

You swallowed hard, the weight of his gaze heavy on you as you knelt before him, the coolness of the floor contrasting sharply with the warmth that enveloped your body. Sukuna watched you, a predator sizing up his prey, and you could feel the intensity of his scrutiny as you knelt there, heart racing and breath shallow.

“Good girl” he praised, the words wrapping around you like silk, soothing yet igniting a fire in your core. “This is where you belong—submissive, yearning for my affection.” His voice was low and sultry, and you could hear the satisfaction lacing his tone as he took in your posture, his eyes gleaming with approval. “But you have to earn it. Tell me what you want.”

You hesitated, the vulnerability of your position mingling with your desire to please him. “I want… I want your approval,” you murmured, the admission spilling from your lips almost involuntarily. “Your love”

His smirk widened, revealing a hint of satisfaction that made your heart flutter. “And how do you plan to earn it?” he asked, his voice smooth and seductive, coaxing you into deeper submission. “Show me how desperate you really are for my love.”

With deliberate slowness, he shrugged off his robe, letting the luxurious fabric cascade down his broad shoulders and pool around his waist. The movement revealed the powerful contours of his body, muscles coiling under his skin, each movement exuding confidence and dominance. You couldn’t help but feel your breath hitch in your throat as you drank in the sight of him—strikingly captivating and impossibly alluring. His cock sprung free, dauntingly big, thick and girthy with a prominent vein running along the underside of it.

As you positioned yourself at his feet, your heart raced with anticipation. You looked up at him, and in that moment, you could see the mixture of dominance and desire reflected in his gaze. You knew exactly what he wanted you to do, and the thought of it sent a shiver of excitement coursing through you.

“Go on,” he urged, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “show me just how much you crave my approval.” The challenge ignited something deep within you, urging you to submit fully to his will.

You reached forward, taking his cock in your hand at first, feeling the heat radiate from it as your fingers wrapped around his length. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through you, awakening every nerve ending and amplifying the intensity of your need. You could feel his gaze boring into you, an intoxicating mix of desire and power, and the weight of it only fueled your eagerness.

Sukuna watched you intently, his expression a mixture of approval and amusement as you began to stroke him slowly.

You leaned in closer, your breath hitching as you pressed soft kisses along his shaft, savouring the taste of his skin and the intoxicating musk that enveloped you. With each kiss, you felt a thrill of exhilaration at your submission, and the thought of earning his approval made you more eager to please.

“Keep going,” he encouraged, his voice low and demanding.

You could hear the satisfaction in his tone, and it spurred you on as you took him deeper into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him with fervent devotion. Every now and then you’d pull back and focus on the tip, only to resume taking his cock in as deep as you could, using your hand for what you couldn’t fit. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you—his dominance and your willingness to submit completely to him.

As you continued, you could feel his hand find its way to your hair, fingers tangling in it as he guided your movements, controlling the pace with a delicious authority. The mix of his control and your surrender sent waves of heat pooling in your core, and you could feel the ache of longing building within you.

The warmth of his body radiated against your skin, intensifying the sensations coursing through you as you leaned in further, taking him deeper. Each careful stroke of your tongue was met with a soft, approving grunt from Sukuna, his fingers tightening in your hair, guiding you with just the right amount of pressure. You revelled in the way he took charge, the way he made you feel both desired and utterly submissive.

“Such a good little pet,” he praised, his voice smooth yet commanding, sending tremors of excitement through you. “You’re desperate for my touch, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t deny it, the words igniting something primal within you, and you nodded as best you could with him filling your mouth. The mixture of your eagerness and his control heightened the stakes, pushing you to give him everything you had.

His hips shifted slightly, guiding your rhythm as he pressed deeper, the sensation making your head spin. You could feel the tension building within you, a mix of longing and excitement as you became more attuned to his desires. The slick warmth of your mouth enveloped him, and each movement you made was deliberate, an offering of your devotion.

“More,” he demanded, his voice thick with pleasure as he tilted his head back slightly. “I want to hear you.”

You moaned softly around him, the sound vibrating against his skin, eliciting another low growl from deep within him. The noise made your core throb with need, the desperate ache for him only growing stronger as you lost yourself in the rhythm of your actions.

He couldn’t help but want to set the pace himself, the next time you went to pull back, he guided your head further, forcing you to take him deeper until your nose was pressed up against his pubes. You sputtered, unable to stop yourself from gagging as he held you there for a moment before pulling back and letting you pull off and catch your breath. You coughed a little, a string of saliva connecting from his cock to your lips.

His hand tightened in your hair, gently pulling your head up for a moment so he could meet your gaze. “Look at me,” he commanded, his eyes darkened with lust and satisfaction. “I want to see your pretty eyes.”

As you surrendered fully to him, the heat pooling in your core became unbearable, a delicious reminder of just how much you craved his approval. The world outside faded further, leaving only the intoxicating connection between you—his power and your submission—and you knew that you would do anything to keep that connection alive.

You gazed up at him, his commanding presence making your heart race. As you took him deeper, this time by your own choice, a rush of exhilaration surged through you, and with a playful impulse, you let your teeth graze lightly against his length. The sensation was meant to tease, to elicit a reaction, but the moment you did, a sharp intake of breath escaped him, followed by a sudden yank of your hair that pulled you away.

Sukuna’s eyes flashed with a mixture of surprise and warning, the intensity of his gaze locking onto yours like a steel trap. “What did I say about behaving?” His voice was low, tinged with authority, but there was an unmistakable edge of desire laced within it. You felt a thrill race through you, the tension in the air thickening.

You looked up at him, trying to read the storm brewing in his eyes. His grip on your hair was firm yet controlled, a reminder of the power he wielded over you. The sharpness of his warning sent a jolt through you, igniting a mix of fear and excitement.

“I... I’m sorry,” you stammered, your breath shaky as you tried to regain your composure. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Do that once more and I won’t touch you again, I’ll give you to one of my men. Do you want that?”

The weight of his words settled heavily in the air, a reminder of the stakes involved. You could feel the heat of embarrassment flooding your cheeks, but it was quickly replaced by a deep-seated need for his approval. The thought of disappointing him was far more terrifying than the idea of punishment.

“Now,” he said, releasing his hold on your hair but still leaning forward, his presence overwhelming, “Show me that you can be the good girl I know you can be.” There was an edge to his tone that made your stomach flip, a challenge wrapped in a promise.

Nodding slightly, you took a deep breath, reminding yourself of the delicate balance you had to maintain. You could do this. You could earn his affection and approval. You leaned in closer once more, eyes locked onto his, feeling the pulse of desire thrumming between you.

With renewed determination, you took him back into your mouth, moving slowly at first, allowing your tongue to swirl around him in languid strokes. You could feel the tension in the air, the silent understanding that every movement you made was a testament to your willingness to submit completely to him. You focused on doing it right, savouring the way his body reacted, the way his breath hitched as you worked your mouth around him.

You couldn’t help but grin slightly as you ran your tongue along his shaft.

“You think this is funny?” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your lips with a possessive touch. “You think you’re in control here?” The amusement in his voice was gone, replaced with a low, simmering intensity that made your pulse quicken.

Before you could respond, Sukuna yanked you up, pulling you to your feet with a force that left your heart racing. He spun you around again, pressing your back against the wall, his chest flush against your front as his hands roamed over your body. The roughness of his touch sent shivers down your spine, your skin tingling with the mix of pleasure and dominance that radiated from him.

“Let’s see how long you can hold on to that defiance,” he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. His hand slid down to your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the full weight of his cock pressing against your stomach. “You’ll break eventually. You always do.”

Your body responded instinctively to his dominance as you clenched your thighs together. Sukuna was testing your limits, pushing you to the brink of submission, and you knew that the game you had started was far from over. The tension between you crackled like electricity, the air thick with the promise of what was to come.

He grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand as his other hand travelled down your body, his touch rough and demanding. His smirk widening as he saw the way your chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths, your defiance crumbling under the weight of his dominance.

"Is this what you wanted?" he growled, his voice thick with lust and dominance. "To be at my mercy? To feel my power over you?"

You could only whimper in response, your body trembling with desire as Sukuna’s fingers danced over across your breasts, playfully rolling your nipples between his fingers, tugging them slightly, teasing you but never giving you the satisfaction you craved. He smirked, clearly enjoying the way you squirmed beneath him, the control he held over you absolute.

"You don’t get to decide when I reward you," he grumbled, "I do."

Sukuna’s hand tightened around your wrists, his grip firm but not painful as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Tell me who you belong to," he growled, his voice low and dangerous, filled with an authority that made your heart race.

You swallowed hard, your defiance wavering under the weight of his dominance. "You," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and desire. "I belong to you."

Sukuna’s lips crashed down on yours, the kiss rough and demanding, filled with the intensity of his dominance. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, pulling a moan from your throat as he claimed your mouth with brutal precision. His hands explored your curves, gripping your hips, your thighs, your ass that was still sore, as if he was staking his claim on every inch of you.

With each deliberate breath, you steadied yourself, your heart racing as you mentally prepared for the brutal onslaught of his strength. You knew what was coming—the way he would thrust into you with a force that left you gasping, the raw power behind every movement. The pleasure and pain that would mingle into a heady mixture, overwhelming your senses until there was nothing left but him.

The anticipation was almost too much to bear, your body aching for the release you knew only Sukuna could give. His fingers trailed down your back, a possessive touch that claimed you inch by inch, as if reminding you that you were his to do with as he pleased.

And then, without warning or any preparation he thrust into you with a brutal force that knocked the air from your lungs. Your hands clung to his shoulders, struggling to maintain your balance as Sukuna’s body slammed into yours, the sound of flesh against flesh echoing in the chamber.

You were thankful that seeing him like this had you already soaked, else that stretch would’ve been a lot more painful with his size.

He didn’t hold back. Each thrust was powerful, relentless, his hips driving into yours with a ferocity that left you gasping. The intensity of it was overwhelming, his movements claiming you completely, pushing you past the point of pleasure and into a realm where pain and ecstasy became one.

Your body rocked against the wall, your breath coming in ragged, desperate pants as Sukuna’s pace only quickened. The sheer force of his movements left you clinging to the stone for support, your legs trembling with the effort of keeping yourself upright. He hooked a hand under your leg as he lifted you up slightly to get a better angle, your walls clenching around his cock every time he drove it in.

"Look at you," he growled, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Already falling apart."

His hand tightened on your hips as he leaned down, his lips brushing against the side of your neck. "You’re my favourite," he hissed, his breath hot against your skin. "So don’t give me reason to neglect you."

Every punishing thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body, building higher and higher until it was almost too much to bear. The heat between you intensified, your bodies moving in perfect, brutal sync, the rhythm of your connection raw and primal.

"You feel that?" Sukuna’s voice was a low, dangerous growl in your ear as he brought his other hand to your belly, his hand over the bulge he was causing. "You will never feel this anywhere else.”

He drove into you with even greater force, his body demanding your submission with every movement. And as the pleasure built to a fever pitch inside you, your mind blanked, consumed by the sheer intensity of what he was doing to you.

Sukuna’s thrusts became more brutal, more relentless with each passing second. The intensity of his movements left you breathless, your body barely able to keep up with the raw, savage force of him. The cold stone of the wall pressed against your back, and his hand on your leg, the only thing holding you upright as Sukuna claimed you with an aggression that sent shivers through your entire being.

His hands gripped your hips with a bruising force, pulling you into him with every movement, demanding your full surrender. The overwhelming pleasure mingled with a burning ache that left you trembling, each sensation more intense than the one before.

"Is this what you wanted?" Sukuna growled, his voice thick with both anger and lust. "You wanted to test me? Thought you could defy me, hmm?"

His tone was sharp, laced with danger, and each word only made your pulse race faster. You could feel the fury in his movements, the way he drove into you with a punishing rhythm that left you gasping for air. Your mind spun, the pleasure so overwhelming it was hard to think straight, but through the haze of sensation, you realised the truth: you’d pushed him too far.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the sounds of his body slamming into yours. "I'm sorry, Sukuna… I didn’t mean—"

Before you could finish, he thrust into you harder, his hand yanking your hair back so that your head snapped up, forcing you to meet his eyes as he leaned over you. His gaze burned with fury and satisfaction, and the sight of it made your stomach flip.

"Oh, you’re sorry now, are you?" he hissed, his breath hot against your ear. "Begging for forgiveness already? Pathetic."

His hips slammed into yours again, the brutal pace leaving you reeling, the sheer force of his movements pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You cried out, your fingers digging into the stone wall as you tried to brace yourself against the onslaught of pleasure and pain.

"Please," you gasped, your voice trembling as his relentless thrusts made it hard to speak. "I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have… I didn’t mean to—"

But Sukuna wasn’t interested in your apologies. If anything, your desperate pleas only seemed to drive him further, his pace quickening, the heat between you growing unbearable. His hand snaked around your throat, gripping it just tightly enough to make you aware of his control, his dominance over you absolute.

"You think I care about your sorry little words?" Sukuna growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You think an apology is going to stop me now?"

His grip on your neck tightened just enough to make your breath hitch, and you could feel your body responding, the ache between your legs growing more intense with every punishing thrust. His pace was faster now, the rhythm of his hips brutal, leaving you no time to catch your breath as he took you harder, faster.

Your body was on fire, each thrust pushing you further into a dizzying spiral of pleasure that made it impossible to think of anything but him. Every time you tried to form words, they were swallowed by gasps and cries of pleasure, your mind barely able to keep up with the sheer intensity of what Sukuna was doing to you.

"I’m sorry," you whimpered again, your voice breaking as he pounded into you, the force of his movements overwhelming every sense. "I… I won’t disobey again… I promise…"

Sukuna’s hand moved from your throat to your waist, pulling you back into him with a bruising grip as he sped up even more, the wet sound of your bodies crashing together filling the air. His breathing was ragged now, and you could feel the heat of his skin against yours, the way his body enveloped you, completely dominating you.

"Is that so?" he snarled, his voice thick with satisfaction as he drove into you harder. "You’re sorry now… but it’s too late for that."

His hips slammed into yours with a ferocity that made your legs shake, your entire body trembling as he took you mercilessly. You could barely keep yourself upright, every muscle in your body tensing with the effort of staying grounded under the relentless onslaught of his thrusts, your pussy welcoming him in with every movement of his cock, it was embarrassing how much your body betrayed you.

"I’ll make sure you remember this," he growled, his breath hot against your skin as his pace became almost punishing. "Next time you think about disobeying me, you’ll remember exactly what happens."

Sukuna's grip tightened as he drove into you with merciless abandon, his pace unrelenting as your body quaked beneath him. The overwhelming sensation was pushing you closer and closer to the edge, your muscles tensing in anticipation of release. But just as you felt that familiar surge of pleasure coil tighter, ready to snap, Sukuna suddenly pulled back, leaving you teetering on the brink, your pussy clenching around nothing at the loss.

Your breath hitched, a desperate whimper escaping your lips as the pleasure was ripped away from you. He slowed his movements, rolling his hips with an agonisingly deliberate pace, teasing you with just enough sensation to keep you trembling but never enough to send you over.

"S-Sukuna," you gasped, your voice trembling with need, your body aching for the release that had been so cruelly denied. "Please... please, I—"

He cut you off with a low, mocking laugh, his fingers digging into your hips as he held you still, his chest pressed against your back. The heat of his body was suffocating, his presence overwhelming as he leaned down to speak directly into your ear.

"You really think you deserve to come after all that?" he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. "After the way you acted? You don’t get to have what you want."

You whimpered again, your body trembling with frustration as Sukuna slowed his thrusts to a maddening crawl, each movement deliberate, calculated to keep you on edge without ever granting you the release you so desperately craved.

His hands moved from your hips to your thighs, spreading you wider as he pushed his cock deeper inside, filling you completely with slow, torturous strokes. Your breath came in shallow gasps, every nerve in your body strung tight with anticipation, but no matter how hard you tried to chase that elusive climax, Sukuna remained in control.

"I’m the one who decides when you get to come," he growled, his voice dark and commanding. "And you haven’t earned it today."

He increased the pace only slightly, enough to send another wave of pleasure through you, but still holding you just at the edge of satisfaction. You could feel him nearing his own release, his breathing becoming heavier, his thrusts more forceful, but even as his body tensed with his impending climax, he refused to let you finish.

"Look at you," he mocked, his voice filled with dark amusement. "Begging for something you’re not even worthy of."

Sukuna’s rhythm grew faster, his hips snapping into you with an intensity that sent you reeling. The heat between your bodies built to a fever pitch, his ragged breaths mingling with your gasps as you clung to the edge of control. You could feel yourself spiralling toward the brink of release, your entire body tensing, desperate to fall over that edge. But just as the pleasure began to crest, Sukuna let out a low, guttural growl, his thrusts becoming erratic as he neared his peak.

With one last deep thrust, he groaned, his body stilling as he spilled into you, his grip on your hips tightening with possessive force. His cum shot out, thick streams of white painting your walls, a neverending load it felt like with how prolonged it was. His breath came in hot, uneven pants against your skin, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he rode out his climax. You could feel the heat of him inside you, the weight of his release, but the moment your own release seemed within reach, Sukuna stopped moving completely.

You whimpered, the need still burning fiercely in your core, your body quaking with the intensity of being left teetering on the edge. You tried to grind against him, desperate for that final push, but his hands clamped down on your hips, holding you in place. The realisation hit you hard — he really wasn’t going to let you finish.

"Sukuna... please," you gasped, your voice strained, body trembling with unfulfilled need. "I-I need to—"

He chuckled darkly, pulling back just enough to look down at you, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, you thought I’d change my mind?" His voice was thick with amusement, utterly unapologetic. "Not this time."

You moaned in frustration, your body still pulsing with the aftershocks of his rough pace, the pleasure so close yet just out of reach. Sukuna’s grip on your hips remained firm as he leaned down, his breath hot against your ear.

"You're lucky I let you have this much," he growled, the tone of his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Maybe next time you’ll think twice before misbehaving."

He pulled out slowly, his absence leaving you feeling unbearably empty, your body still throbbing with unsatisfied need. He watched you squirm beneath him, clearly revelling in your frustration, a twisted smile playing on his lips.

Sukuna’s dark chuckle echoed in the room as he loomed over you, watching the frustration play across your features. You could feel your body trembling with the intensity of everything left unresolved, a quiet whine escaping your throat as you tried, one last time, to reach for him. But before you could make any move, he shifted, his hand coming to rest atop your head.

The touch was shockingly gentle, a contrast to the roughness you’d just endured, as he stroked your hair almost… fondly. You glanced up at him, confusion flickering across your face, but Sukuna’s expression was one of twisted amusement.

"Don’t pout," he murmured, still smirking as he patted your head in that condescending way. "I’m not so heartless as to leave you completely unsatisfied." His voice dripped with mockery, but there was an underlying promise there—something dark and teasing.

You bit your lip, your heart still racing, unsure what he meant. Did he intend to give you an orgasm after all? Yet instead of returning his hands to your body, he let them slide away, leaving you even more bewildered.

With a casual shrug, Sukuna stood, towering over you, clearly savouring the sight of your needy, trembling form sprawled before him. As he moved toward the door, you caught his last remark.

"I’ll let you sleep in my chambers tonight," he tossed over his shoulder, his tone almost dismissive. "Consider that a kindness."

His words hung in the air, thick with his typical arrogance. Sleeping in his chambers meant you’d be close, within reach of him, and perhaps he’d allow more later. But it also meant the control still belonged to him, and you would have to wait, to endure.

He looked back at you once more, that cruel, satisfied grin still etched on his face. "See? I’m not entirely heartless," he teased, the sarcasm in his voice unmistakable.

Then, without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving you to gather yourself, the heat of your desire still thrumming in your veins. His presence lingered even after he was gone, the promise of what might come next hanging over you like a heavy, tantalising shadow.

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© lovesculprit ↣ do not copy or translate any of my works

[rafecameronssl4t]

Can you do Rafe’s reaction to reader being criticized by her parents in the forced marriage au?

At your defence || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: Ty for the request anon!! Sorry this took awhile 😭

Warnings: body shaming, baby pressure, ed is not implied whatsoever in this

Word count: 1,474

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

"Ah, there they are," your mother beams, rising from her chair with a delighted smile. She moves swiftly toward Rafe, who holds your 7-month-old son, Leo, in his arms. You remain still, not even turning your head to greet them, a small defiance that doesn’t go unnoticed by your father as he sets his glass of scotch down with a faint clink.

You hear your mother’s cooing voice as she reaches Leo, her fussing over him overly enthusiastic. "Oh, hasn’t he just grown since the last time!" she gushes, taking Leo from Rafe’s arms and settling him onto her lap, her affection almost too much for you to bear in the moment. Your father offers nothing but a curt nod, maintaining his usual distant reserve.

Rafe’s presence draws closer. His hand, firm yet not unkind, comes to rest on your shoulder. The sensation causes you to look up, meeting his eyes just as he leans down to press a brief, familiar kiss on your cheek. It's a gesture you’ve grown used to—affectionate, yet tinged with a sense of routine rather than passion. His gentle smile is meant for show, a mask for the public image you both maintain especially in front of your parents.

As he sits down beside you, the warmth of his thigh presses against yours, his hand resting on your knee. You focus on Leo, who babbles away in your mother’s lap, a sweet, innocent sound that eases some of the weight on your chest. "Do you know what you're going to order?" Rafe’s voice is casual as he flicks through the menu, his tone suggesting the same routine formality that colours most of your conversations these days.

You glance at the menu half-heartedly, appetite distant. "Probably just a salad," you mutter, though the words feel hollow, like so many of your thoughts these days. Before you can dwell on it, your mother’s voice cuts through the room, bright and commanding as always. "Darlings, I'm hosting a gala next week. You must attend," she declares, not so much an invitation as an expectation.

You don’t bother to respond right away, but Rafe doesn’t miss a beat. "Of course we’ll be there," he answers smoothly, already accustomed to fulfilling the social obligations expected of you both. His answer is automatic, effortless, as if this was just another item on the long list of duties you both perform for the sake of appearances.

Great. Another event. You force a smile, knowing full well what it would entail—another night of pretending. Pretending to be the perfect wife, locked in a marriage that felt more like a performance than a partnership. Another evening of tight smiles, polite laughter, and meaningless conversations with socialites you’ve long grown bored of.

Rafe’s hand remains on your knee under the table, a subtle gesture of unity that contrasts the emotional distance. You glance sideways at him, wondering if he feels the same weariness, but his expression is unreadable, composed in the way he’s perfected over time. You’d both become skilled at it—this charade of happiness.

Your mother gently hands Leo over to you, his little arms immediately wrapping around your neck as if he’s missed your warmth. The sweet gesture brings a chuckle from your lips, a sound you rarely hear from yourself these days. Rafe notices, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he watches the two of you, the rare moment of peace settling briefly between the tension.

"Did you miss me?" you whisper to Leo, your hand softly patting his back as he squirms in your arms. His tiny fingers soon find your family crest necklace, grasping it with curiosity. It’s a simple, innocent action, yet it tugs at something deeper within you—a reminder of the weight that symbol carries, not just for you but for the life you're expected to live.

Your father calls for a waiter, the sound of his authoritative voice interrupting your thoughts. The orders are taken swiftly, and when it’s your turn, you manage to say, "I'll have the Nicoise salad, please—" before you're abruptly cut off by your mother’s sharp tone. "Oh, no," she interjects, her voice firm, slicing through the air.

You and Rafe exchange confused glances, both unsure of what she was going to say. Her stern eyes focus on you for a moment before she turns her attention back to the waiter, the smile on her lips tight and forced. "She will have the Club Sandwich, thank you," your mother says, closing her menu with a finality that leaves no room for argument. You stare at her, lips parted in disbelief, as the waiter politely retreats.

"That’s too much for me, I—" you begin, but she raises a hand, silencing you effortlessly, as if it were nothing. "You’ve gotten far too skinny, my dear," she remarks, her tone almost casual but laced with that familiar sting of judgement. "A body like that will surely not produce a healthy baby." The words fall from her mouth so easily, so thoughtlessly, that it takes a moment for them to truly sink in

Your chest tightens, the prickle of tears stinging your eyes, but you quickly look away, blinking them back before they can betray your emotions. "What is your chef feeding you? Perhaps I should overlook his menu," your mother continues, leaning forward slightly, her concern veiled by her need for control.

Instinctively, your eyes flicker toward Rafe, cursing yourself the moment you do. It’s a habit you’ve never quite broken—looking to him when your parents begin their critique, hoping for some sort of allyship. Your parents likely notices, and you hate that you’ve given them another tell. Rafe, to your surprise, responds with a tone of calm indifference.

"We both eat the same meals, all very nutritious, I can assure you. There’s no need for concern." His words are delivered with an air of boredom, as though he’s tired of the performance your family demands at every turn. "My wife is perfectly fine and healthy," he adds, his voice steady, almost detached. You lower your gaze, staring at the table in front of you, feeling an odd mixture of gratitude and discomfort at his defense.

Your mother’s hum lingers in the air, hovering between indifference and criticism, and that ambiguity leaves you restless. As the conversation continues around you, the voices blur into a distant hum. You stare blankly at the glass of water in front of you, losing yourself in thoughts that feel miles away from this table, from these expectations.

You don’t even notice Leo beginning to fuss in your lap until Rafe’s hand on your thigh gives a slight, firm squeeze, gently pulling you back to reality. You blink, looking up to find both of your parents' eyes trained on you, their disapproving expressions almost instinctual. Without a word, you begin to tend to Leo, but Rafe is quicker, reaching out with an effortless, "Here, let me take him."

Relieved, you let him lift Leo from your arms, watching as he settles the baby against his chest. Leo quiets almost immediately, and for a brief moment, the tension in the room seems to ease. Rafe's hand remains on your thigh, a subtle reassurance that grounds you amidst the weight of your family’s expectations.

When the meals arrive, you glance down at the sandwich before you—far too large for your diminished appetite. The sight of it makes your stomach turn, not out of hunger, but out of the pressure to conform. You can feel your mother’s watchful gaze, an invisible but palpable force, compelling you to start eating.

You take a bite, swallowing it down even though the taste barely registers. "Mind if I have some?" Rafe’s voice breaks through the silence, and you turn to him in surprise. He’s already reaching over, transferring some of your food onto his plate without hesitation, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

"Yeah, of course," you reply softly, watching as he begins eating from your plate. His casual gesture surprises you, but it also lightens the mood, if only slightly. A small smile tugs at your lips, grateful for his quiet way of easing the tension that lingers between you and your parents.

When it’s finally time to leave, you feel a wave of relief wash over you. Bidding your parents goodbye, you stare out at the perfectly manicured lawn, the scent of freshly cut grass filling the air. Leo is fast asleep in your arms, his little head resting peacefully against your chest.

"Thank you," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you glance over at Rafe. He turns his head toward you, his expression softening. Without a word, he nods, moving his arm behind your head. You lean back against it, letting yourself rest against his warmth for a moment.

[dilf-c0nn0isseur]

can you write a smut where the reader rides logan's abs, i mean 😍

wishing this could be me right now🫡 enjoy!

riding his abs - logan howlett x fem!reader 18+

NSWF! MDNI!

Logan looked like he had been sculpted by God himself. I mean, those abs? Dude is cut.

You were currently lying in bed next time, admiring his perfect body. Your index finger traced lightly over the divots of his muscles. "God Logan, your body is unreal." No matter how long you'd been with him, his physique never fails to amaze you. Your compliment made the corners of his lips twitch up into a smirk.

"You like what you see Bub?," he teased with a flex of his muscles, putting his veins on full display. A puddle formed between your legs, the wetness seeping through the thin pair of underwear you had on. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. Cocky motherfucker.

"Holy shit Lo, you can't just tease me like that."

"Who said I was teasing?"

With one muscular arm, he lifted you easily up so that you were sitting on his abdomen. You gasped as he flexed with you on top of him, your soaking core pressed against his abs. He cocked an eyebrow up at you, smirk returning. "Is that really all it takes to get you going?," he snorted. "Dirty slut." With another swift movement, he ripped your panties off and flung them to the floor.

His confident, cocky attitude made you even hornier than you already were. Without even realizing, your hips bucked into his stomach against his rock hard abs.

"Pleasuring yourself on my muscles now?," he blew out a low whistle. You realized what you had been doing. An embarrassed blush crept up your face. "Sorry-"

"Don't apologize. I mean fuck, I could sit here all day and watch you get yourself off with my body."

His approval came as a surprise to you. "Really?"

His eyes grazed your body hungrily. "Yes, really, now get to work sugar," he ordered.

The thought of you pleasuring yourself on his abs with him sitting there and watching you brought another flood in-between your legs. Biting your lip, you began to grind on him slowly, pressing your hands against his chest for support. Fuck, even his chest was rock hard muscle.

Sure, he could just sit there and watch the show you were putting on, but come on, it was Logan. There was no way that man could keep his hands off of you. He grabbed your tits in both of his hands- his huge hands- and squeezed. "Fuck doll, you're so wet." His pet name for you made you buck your hips again, grinding your clit against his hard stomach. "Oh fuck Logan!"

The natural lubricant that seeped out of your cunt made it easy to slide back and forth on him. It was like when you were younger, an innocent, mindlessly humping a pillow, except now, it was a man beneath you, his muscles aiding you in your pleasure. Things really do come full circle, don't they?

The rough calluses of Logan's thumbs swirling around your sensitive nipples sent waves of pleasure through your body. You felt yourself climbing towards your peak.

"Getting close sweetheart?," his low, husky voice asked.

You nodded and responded with a high moan, unable to answer him with words.

"Good girl, finish yourself off on me. I want you to make a fucking mess of me."

The growl in his voice, the praise, brought you to your climax. Your hands moved to his hair and dug your fingers in, pulling at it as you lost control and came on him.

"Good girl, such a good, fucking girl," he talked you through your orgasm, somehow making you cum 10 times harder.

Once you came off of your high, you slid off of him, flopping down on the bed next time. You shivered. Then, you took in the mess you had made of his stomach. Your cum had pooled around his abs, glistening. "Oh, shit Logan, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't apologize," He cut you off, sliding a finger up his stomach to collect the mess you had just made, and stick it in his mouth to get a taste. He threw his head back and let out a throaty groan around his finger. "Y'Taste so good doll."

Logan lifted up your chin to bring his lips to yours, letting you taste yourself.

"You are the only person that could ever do that to me," you murmured.

He snorted and looked back at his toned abdomen, shining with your cum. "You did that to yourself, Bub."

[inkedinshadows]

Nights and Days

Pairing: Azriel × reader

Summary: Azriel and Y/N are on a mission in Illyria, but as they move from one camp to another, they’re caught in a blizzard and are forced to find shelter in the nearest inn. Thanks to the shadowsinger, there's only one bed.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, just a sprinkle of shadow play, language, lots of witty banter

Word count: 6.3k

A/N: this is my first time writing smut, so I'd really appreciate it if you let me know what you think 🥺

Groups of rebels had begun to appear all over Illyria, claiming that Rhys was not a good High Lord, that a low-born bastard was not suited to be their general, and that training their women was nothing more than a waste of time.

After two weeks of diplomacy that led to absolutely nothing, Rhys had dispatched the Inner Circle to deal with the rebels. Mor and Amren had stayed in Velaris to make sure nothing happened, but the others had been sent out to Illyria. And Y/N had been paired up with Azriel.

They were flying from one war camp to the next—Y/N trying to focus on anything other than Azriel holding her close as he flew—when it started to snow.

“Is it safe to keep going?” she asked him, glancing at his beautiful wings flapping behind him.

“Would you rather I land now? In the middle of nowhere?” Azriel looked down at her with a little smirk on his face. “Give me some credit, Y/N. I can handle a little snow.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you’re a big, tough Illyrian warrior. My bad.”

He didn't answer, but she didn't need to look at him to know he was still smirking. That annoyingly attractive smirk always made her want to kiss him. She focused on the forest below, on anything other than his lips and how close they’d be if she would just turn her head his way.

They flew in silence for just a few more minutes before the snow began to fall more heavily. Y/N simply looked at Azriel with a raised eyebrow, not bothering to use words.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” he said when he noticed her expression, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Camp is not that far. We can still make it.”

“Azriel, did you wake up this morning and just decided to be stupid?” She pointed at the grey sky above them, where more clouds were gathering with the promise of more snow to come. “You see that, right? It’s already late and we both know it’ll only get worse. We won’t reach the next camp before it turns into a blizzard. Besides, I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

His only answer was a low chuckle. “Oh, yeah? The poor princess is freezing her little ass off?”

She smacked him on the shoulder. “My ass is anything but little, shadowsinger. Shouldn’t you find us a shelter or something, instead of making fun of me?”

“Said the one who just called me stupid,” he pointed out. He lifted a brow, flashing her another one of those smirks. “Maybe you should apologize for that, and I might think about landing somewhere.”

She cocked her head, unsure if he was messing around or not. “I refuse to apologize for telling the truth. And you’d better land soon, or I’ll kick your ass when you do.”

Azriel’s laugh echoed in her ears, and it took all her focus not to smile just at that sound she so rarely got to hear. “As if you could actually kick my ass.”

If her arms hadn’t been wrapped around his neck, she would have crossed them over her chest. Or maybe she would have used them to strangle him, if only it wouldn't mean they'd fall out of the sky. Eventually, she settled to roll her eyes again. “Azriel, I’m being serious.”

Though she enjoyed their usual banter and she knew as well as everyone that she could never kick his ass, she hadn’t lied. Even with her Illyrian leathers, she was starting to freeze out there in the snow, and there was no way they would reach their destination without being caught in a full-blown blizzard.

“Relax. Despite what you think, Y/N, I’m not stupid.” He gestured to something below them just as she opened her mouth to protest. “It’s an inn. You would have noticed it already, if only you hadn’t been so busy complaining.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, squinting to see through the trees and the snow. But as Azriel glided down, she finally saw it. It was a rather large building for an inn in the middle of the woods—many Illyrians probably passed through it—so there was a high chance of finding a couple of rooms to spend the night in.

Azriel landed and gently set her on the ground. Together, they headed for the door and were welcomed inside by the warmth of a fire in the corner of the room. She shook the snow off her hair as she took in their surroundings—a few tables full of Illyrian warriors, most of them drinking and laughing quite loudly.

“We ran out of double rooms.” The innkeeper looked at them as they approached, apparently too bored to even bother with greetings. “But we’ve still got a few single ones.”

Before she could tell him that two rooms were perfect, Azriel was already answering. “We need only one, actually.”

Next thing she knew, he had grabbed her hand and was leading her up the stairs, a key now clutched in his fingers. She waited for the door to close behind them before she turned to him with a frown. “What the hell was that? Why only one room?”

Azriel tossed his pack on the floor and replied as if the answer was obvious. “The hall was packed with drunk Illyrians.”

“So?”

He looked at her then, and she couldn’t quite understand what she saw in his eyes. Was it concern? Or frustration because she still didn’t realize something he thought was so simple?

“I’m not letting you sleep in another room alone, when a bunch of drunk Illyrians have just seen you, probably the only female here, walk in.”

Well, that was not what she expected. But as she thought it over, she couldn’t deny he had a point. She was able to hold her own in a fight, just not against fully trained warriors, and she didn't want to take any risk, especially when it was just one night.

Not knowing what to answer, she looked around the room, which consisted of only one bed and a small dresser—lame and boring, but it would do. Except for the one single bed.

She watched as Azriel sat on an old rug, the only decoration there was. “And what are you doing now, exactly?”

He shrugged, with that same expression that seemed to tell her the answer was obvious. “I'll take the floor, you take the bed.”

She almost laughed at that. “You can't sleep on the floor, not with your wings. I'll do it.”

“I'll be fine,” he replied, and extended his wings behind him as if to prove it. “Why would you want to sleep on the floor anyway?”

“Because I don't want you to do it,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Now get your ass off that floor, shadowsinger.”

Azriel did no such thing and instead leaned back against the wall and extended his legs in front of him. Her gaze dropped to his thighs, the muscles shifting with the movement.

“Why would I do that? It's comfortable here.”

She looked up again, her arms crossed over her chest. “It's not and you know it.”

Both of them too stubborn to give in, they glared at each other. She made no move to sit on the bed, and he made no move to get up. They probably could have spent hours like this, but she couldn't stand the idea of Azriel sleeping on a half-consumed rug, even if it meant she'd do it.

“You wouldn't want to face the rebels with a sore body tomorrow, would you?” she tried, hoping it'd make him think straight.

“I've slept on the ground before, I'll be fine. Big, tough Illyrian warrior, remember?” His lips twitched up, and amusement glinted in his hazel eyes. “Just take the bed, Y/N. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“Which is exactly why you should sleep on the bed, Az,” she snapped before taking a deep breath and speaking more calmly. “I'm just the backup. It doesn't matter if I'm sore.”

“It matters to me.”

His words hung heavily in the air, and she swallowed, not sure how to react to them or to the fervor in his voice. There was an intensity in his eyes that she’d never seen before and, unable to his gaze any longer, she blinked.

“You’re not going to budge, are you?” she asked with a sigh, her arms falling back to her sides.

“No.” And there it was again, that teasing grin she usually wanted to kiss. Right now, though, she felt more like punching him for his stubbornness. It outmatched even her own. “So I suggest you listen and take the bed. You need some rest.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and you don't?”

This time, it was his turn to sigh and roll his eyes at her. “Y/N, I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse conditions, and it’s only just one night anyway.”

And yet, the thought of him sleeping on that rug while she was all comfortable on the bed didn’t sit right with her. Just like her well-being mattered to him, his mattered to her. Maybe it was because he’d admitted it, or because he’d rather sleep on the floor than let her stay in another room when the place was full of Illyrians. Or maybe she was just trying to find some kind of excuse, but the words were out before she could think better of them.

“Sleep on the bed. With me.”

Azriel’s eyes widened, and she immediately regretted even thinking about it. “I beg your pardon?”

“I mean… it’s just…” she stuttered, her cheeks heating up as she looked away. What a huge mistake she’d just made. Just because he cared about her didn’t mean he’d want to share a bed with her. What was she even thinking? “I know it’s small and there’s not much space, but I just… I thought it’d still be more comfortable than the floor… you know?” Her voice trailed off, and she stared down at her feet.

Deafening silence filled the room, and then Azriel finally spoke, his tone cautious. “And that’s all you were asking?”

She frowned, not sure what else she might have been asking. But she quickly realized what words she had used and how that could potentially sound like something more than an offer to share the bed. Sleep on the bed. With me. Cauldron, she was so stupid. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red. When was the last time she had blushed?

“No, I wasn’t— that’s not what I—” She couldn’t get the words out, and it didn’t help that her mind was now wandering toward certain scenarios that involved the two of them, a bed, and very little clothing. She turned away from him and mumbled, “Whatever.”

“I think this is the first time I've ever seen you speechless.” There was amusement in his voice, and she knew the asshole was smirking once more. “You should watch your word choice if that’s not what you intended to ask.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry,” she murmured as she reached for her pack, but when she took her nightgown out, she realized there was no place to go to get changed. How was she supposed to change in front of him after such an embarrassing mistake? So instead, she delayed the moment she’d have to do it by trying to explain again. “It wasn’t my intention to imply anything. It came out wrong.”

She could feel his eyes on her as he answered. “I noticed. What was your intention, then?”

The look she gave him was one of annoyance. He knew exactly what her intention was, and he just liked to mess with her. She glared at him for a moment before she replied, “I meant what I said. I don’t want you to sleep on that rug, and you don’t want me to do it either. So, the only other option is that we share the bed.”

“Mh, I see.” His lips tugged up in a self-satisfied grin that just made her want to hit him to see it disappear. Not that she could hit him even if she really wanted to. Azriel would block her blow with little effort. But how could she have ever wanted to kiss him?

“So sleeping next to me is the only option?” he added.

“You know what?” she snapped, gesturing to the rug where he was still sitting like it was the most comfortable place he’d ever been. “I changed my mind. Sleep on the floor. I don’t care.”

He chuckled. Chuckled. Cauldron boil her.

She turned her back on him and, without giving it any second thought, she began undressing. She hadn’t realized how warm the Illyrian leathers were until she shivered as soon as she took them off.

“It seems like you’re cold,” Azriel drawled from behind her.

“I’m not,” she replied. She put on her nightgown and sought refuge under the covers. “Not for long, anyway.”

How was Azriel going to spend the night on a rug, without a blanket? When he didn’t answer, she considered maybe asking him one last time to share the bed. Out of the goodness of her heart, she supposed.

But then Azriel spoke again, amusement clear in his voice. And the goodness of her heart be damned.

“You're cold, aren't you?”

She sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around her body. “No.”

“Liar.”

“Prick.”

“I'm the prick? You're the one who suggested we should share the bed.”

Y/N resisted the urge to turn on her side and face him. Maybe it was stupid and childish of her, but she kept lying with her back to him. “I don't see how that makes me a prick, Az. Besides, you're the one who made fun of me because of it, which means you're the prick here.”

His voice still carried a sense of playfulness as he answered. “I made fun of you because you stumbled over your words like a fool. It was quite amusing, to be honest.”

Instead of replying, she slid a hand out from under the blanket and flipped him off over her shoulder. As she hid it again and curled up in the bedsheets, Azriel’s soft laugh made her smile despite herself.

She heard some noise and, assuming he was getting changed and ready for the night, she closed her eyes. But her mind was running wild.

Images of his hands on her. Of her hands on him. Their lips touching, first tenderly, then passionately. Their bodies pressed together as pleasure overcame them. All scenarios she had never let herself fully consider before, now evoked by Azriel's misunderstanding of her words. Scenarios she now knew for sure would never happen if the way he'd teased her for even suggesting sharing the bed was any indication.

“Make room for me?”

His voice was so close to her that she started, her head snapping around to find him standing next to the bed. He had taken off his leathers and was now wearing loose pants and a shirt. His wings were tucked in tight behind him—those beautiful wings that she knew were bigger than Cassian's and Rhysand's. She still wasn't sure she should believe Mor about the correlation between an Illyrian's wingspan and other body parts.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” he added with a small smile.

“You and your absurdly silent steps,” she grumbled, but she was already moving to the other side of the bed.

Only that there wasn’t exactly an ‘other side’, not when the bed was barely big enough for both of them. As Azriel slipped under the sheets, she found herself with her back pressed against his chest. His familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar filled her senses, and his warmth seeped through her, chasing away the remnants of the cold that even the blanket hadn’t yet managed to rid her of.

“Tell me you don’t move a lot when you sleep,” she said as he settled behind her. “Because if you push me off, I’ll make you regret not staying on that rug.”

His laugh skittered down her back. “You always have something to say, don't you?”

“I promise you, the moment there will be nothing to say, I will shut up,” she replied with a chuckle.

Silence fell and Y/N nestled more against his side. She just couldn't help it. Feeling him so close, their bodies pressing together... it was intoxicating, and she wanted to stay like that forever. She hesitated a moment, and then she decided that she might as well do it: grabbing his arm, she wrapped it around her waist and laced their fingers together, their intertwined hands resting against her stomach. Azriel tensed behind her, and she thought he might pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, he released a deep breath that tickled the back of her neck.

“I would never let you fall off the bed,” he murmured. His voice was so close to her ear that it almost made her shiver. And as if to show he really meant what he said, Azriel draped his wings around her.

Y/N suddenly had a lump in her throat. Being enveloped in his wings was somehow more intimate than lying so close to each other. “Glad to hear it,” was all she could think about. After a second, she added in a whisper, “And thank you for not letting me sleep alone.”

Azriel’s arm tightened around her waist, his breath warm against her neck. When he spoke, she could tell by his tone alone that he wanted to say more than just, “You're welcome.” She didn't push him though. He'd tell her when and if he decided to.

She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, letting the sound of the blizzard outside lull her, but with Azriel holding her it was nearly impossible. Wrapped in his arms and wings, she felt safe and protected. Everything else seemed to disappear until it was just the two of them in their small cocoon.

“Can you turn over?”

Her eyes opened at his question, but she didn't move. To face him would mean being only inches away from him. She didn't trust herself to be that close to him. To his lips.

“Why?”

“Just turn over, Y/N,” he whispered. “Please.”

It was the vulnerability in his voice—the barely audible ‘please’—that had her giving in. She had never heard him say it before, not like that.

But as she complied, her face was even closer to his than she'd anticipated. Their noses were almost touching, and she made a point not to let her gaze drop to his lips.

Azriel didn't say anything. They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments or maybe an hour—Y/N didn't know. The one thing she knew was that her heart was beating faster in her chest, and it only got worse when he brushed her cheek, his touch gentle and soft. She smiled, and the movement caused his gaze to dip to her mouth. She waited for him to look up again, but he didn't.

Her smile turned into a little smirk. “Are you just going to stare at my lips all night, or do you plan to actually do something about it?”

Azriel looked at her again, and though he tried to look annoyed, she could see a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Why do you always have to make such quick-witted comments?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” she replied before she even knew what she was saying. She didn't regret it though, because he did it.

And the world shrank till there was just Azriel.

His lips were soft against hers, warm and inviting. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. She melted against him, opening up for his tongue to slip inside, tasting her slowly, almost reverently. Her heart was beating so fast it might have jumped out of her chest.

She'd wanted this to happen for the longest time, and now that it was real, the leash she'd kept on herself vanished. Every feeling, every emotion she'd stifled for so long, now rushed to the surface like a tidal wave.

What had started as a tender kiss soon turned into something passionate and greedy. She whimpered softly against his lips, and her hands began to make their way down to the hem of his shirt.

“Y/N.” Azriel's whisper stopped her as she looked into his eyes. She could see her own need reflected there. “Are you sure about this?”

“I don't look sure enough to you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe next time I should just send you a note and—”

Azriel silenced her with another kiss. “You and your sarcastic answers,” he murmured with a smile.

Y/N giggled and cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb against his lips. “I mean it, Az,” she said, her tone softer now. “I'm sure about it.”

“Good.” He pulled her flush against him as his hands roamed down her back. “Because if I start, I don't think I could stop.”

“Good,” she repeated before she kissed him again.

Y/N tugged on his shirt, and they parted long enough for her to take it off, though it took a bit of struggle to undo the clasps on his back and free his wings. She'd seen him shirtless before, mostly when he was training—he was a real feast for the eye—but now she got to touch him, to run her hands across his torso and feel him shudder. His mouth descended on her neck in response, leaving a trail of wet kisses while his hands gripped her backside.

“You were right, princess,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “Your ass is definitely not little.”

She chuckled as he kneaded it. “Told you.”

Azriel hummed, planting one last kiss on her neck before he shifted position and Y/N found herself pressed down on the mattress, the shadowsinger now on top of her. As she pulled him closer for their lips to meet yet again, his hands caressed her legs, trailing up her thighs and slipping under her nightgown.

She held her breath as he brushed past her panties, lingering just long enough to make her shiver. He then moved up her body, causing the fabric to rise and reveal her soft flesh.

Y/N broke the kiss, a small sigh leaving her lips when Azriel’s hands reached her breasts. He smiled at the sound, and as their eyes met, his gaze was so full of desire that her core clenched.

She wanted him. She needed him.

Before she could reach between them to push down his pants, Azriel gently stopped her by grabbing her wrists, sensing what her intention was. “Not yet,” he murmured.

She frowned. A slight tug was all it took for him to release her hands, though she didn't try to undress him again. “Why not?”

And there it was again, that smirk. But now, with him on top of her, both of them half naked, she didn't simply want to kiss it. No, she wanted do all the things she'd never let herself consider.

“Because I want to see you first, princess.”

Azriel was already pushing her nightgown up, but as usual, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. “So it's official? You're calling me princess now? You've never done that before.”

He looked down at her with so much desire that it seemed to set her body on fire. “I've never been about to fuck you before,” he answered, his voice low and sultry.

Her thighs clenched together, but before she could come up with a response, Azriel removed her nightgown. Her skin was already so heated she barely felt the bite of the cool air, and it was completely forgotten when he ran his hands all over her body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned down to take one of her nipples in his warm mouth, a soft moan escaping her as she shivered.

Her fingers tangled in his hair to keep him close, and she arched against him when his tongue flicked out to tease her.

“And you're so responsive,” he murmured. Hooking a scarred finger into the waistband of her panties, he pulled them down her legs. The scent of her arousal wafted through the room as Azriel nudged her legs open and settled in between them.

Y/N was about to tell him to hurry, her need to feel him against and inside her now almost overwhelming. But she couldn’t form the words, not as Azriel pushed his hips against hers and she felt the evidence of his own arousal pressing hard against her wet core.

His hands caressed her sides, her ass, her thighs, and yet he never touched her where she needed it most.

“Azriel…” she complained, eyes locked on him. She moved her hips to grind against his erection, seeking some sort of friction, and she was rewarded by his sharp inhale. But it still wasn't enough.

“Be patient, Y/N.” His mouth descended on her neck again, biting the soft spot where it met her shoulder. “I want to taste you first. I want to worship every inch of you.”

Even though she closed her eyes at his little nips, she shook her head. “Azriel, I appreciate it. I really do. But you have no idea how long I've waited for this.” Her breath hitched when his tongue swirled around her nipple again. “We can leave the worshipping for later. I need you now.”

“You need me, uh?” He kissed her other breast, and she bucked her hips against him once more. “And you've waited a long time for this?”

Y/N looked at him again, her fingers still clutching his hair. She nodded and realized her mistake too late—a new mischievous gleam entered Azriel's hazel eyes.

His lips trailed down her stomach and toward her belly button. Each kiss sent a shiver right to her core. “Then you can wait a little longer.”

She groaned, her patience now at its limit. “Azriel, you—”

A gasp cut her off as he licked a stripe up her dripping folds. She couldn't tell who moaned first when Azriel tasted her once more, his tongue flicking over her clit.

Her fingers tightened in his black curls and her head fell back on the pillow. Azriel's lips closed around her clit and she clamped a hand on her mouth to keep quiet as he gently sucked on it.

His shadows began to slither up her body, their touch cool against her heated skin. Her breathing quickened and she had to hold back a moan when his tongue was replaced by a finger slowly sliding inside her folds.

But it didn't move. Azriel looked up at her and she wished she could somehow capture the picture: his head between her legs, those beautiful hazel eyes focused on her with an almost predatory intent.

“Don't go all quiet on me now, princess,” he murmured against her skin. “I want to hear all your pretty noises.”

A tendril of shadow brushed against her hand, and she removed it from her mouth. “Az, the other rooms—”

He curled his finger to hit that soft, spongy spot inside her that had her see stars, and she couldn't stop the moan that left her lips.

“I don't care if someone hears you.” His voice was a low, almost commanding growl. “Let them hear you. Let them know you're with me.”

She was about to answer, to tell him she wasn't sure she should, but Azriel added a second finger, and she lost all control, another small cry of pleasure slipping out.

Azriel seemed satisfied because his smirk reappeared. “If I had known this is all it took to put a stop on the witty comments, I would have done it a long time ago.”

Y/N wanted to make one of those very witty comments to prove him wrong, to show him she hadn't become helpless just because of how good he made her feel, but his tongue circled her clit again and Mother above, she was helpless.

“Do you want to come, princess?”

Unable to form even a coherent thought, all she could do was nod, her body on the brink of release as his fingers curled once more, drawing a moan from deep in her throat.

“Use your words, Y/N.”

“Yes… yes, please,” she panted.

But instead of keeping going, of driving her over that sweet, craved edge, Azriel placed a kiss to her inner thigh and slowly removed his fingers from her folds. He even moved away from her, standing up at the foot of the bed.

She groaned, pushing herself up on her elbows to glower at him. “Azriel, you get back here right now.”

He only grinned. “Ah, there she is.”

“If you're doing this just because you missed my comments, you should know that I—”

The words died on her tongue as soon as his hands swiftly undid the buttons of his pants. Her eyes followed his every movement as he pushed them down his legs, watching his muscles shift and his wings unfold ever so slightly to keep him balanced.

He wasn't wearing any underwear.

The realization caused her brain to stop working, and the sight of his naked body took her breath away. Maybe the rumors about Illyrian wingspans were true after all.

Her mouth dry, she swallowed before finally speaking again. “Azriel,” she repeated, her voice quivering with barely restrained desire. “Get back here right now.”

For once, he obliged without questioning, his grin wide.

Climbing onto the bed, he crawled up her body until his cock pressed against her entrance, her need for him now through the roof.

Their eyes met, and slowly—too slowly—Azriel pushed in, stretching her inch by delicious inch, both of them releasing a moan when he bottomed out, his hips flush against her.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound shooting straight down to her core. “Fuck, Y/N... you feel incredible.”

She had no words to describe how he felt inside her. ‘Incredible’ was an understatement, but her mind was too foggy to think of something else. The only thing she was sure of was that she needed him to move.

“Azriel,” she breathed as she wrapped her legs around him. He shuddered when she accidentally brushed his wings with her toes. “Please, move. Now.”

With his elbows on either side of her head, he leaned down to kiss her, pulling out almost all the way. “I love hearing you beg for it,” he whispered against her lips, and rocked back into her with a quick roll of his hips before she could even think of a response.

He didn’t even try to go slow, instead immediately setting a relentless pace that left her panting, but she didn’t mind. Every choked sound and breathless moan were swallowed by his kiss, their tongues swirling together. Her hands found their way into his hair, around his neck, down his back, and her nails scraped along his warm and slightly sweaty skin while he thrust into her, her hips rising to meet his.

Azriel’s own groans and whimpers were music to the ears, each of them bringing her closer to release. As if he knew her body well enough already, he seemed to sense it too, because his lips left hers to trail down her neck.

“That’s it, princess,” he praised. His clipped voice let her know he was probably trying to hold back his own impending orgasm. “Come for me.”

His shadows flew in the little space between their bodies to tease her clit, drawing a guttural groan from her. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before—cool against her hot skin, a barely-there touch that yet was enough to make her shudder and whine. But it was the uniqueness of it all that sent her toppling over the edge.

A loud cry broke from her as her vision blurred and her body tensed, her nails slightly digging into Azriel’s back while he slowed his thrusts to draw out her pleasure. But he soon resumed his punishing pace, his hips slamming into hers almost frantically, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room as he chased his own release.

She choked out his name right as he stilled, hot spurts of cum filling her, his last few moans muffled when she pulled him in for another desperate kiss.

They were both panting by the time they broke apart, but neither of them tried to move. Azriel still lay buried deep inside her, and simply rested his forehead against hers, a smile on his lips that mirrored her own.

Despite his heavy breaths, his brows raised as he asked playfully, “So was the wait worth it?”

“It was,” she answered with a chuckle. Her hands came up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “You certainly know what you’re doing, shadowsinger.”

Wrong words.

“Is that so?” His grin only widened, and he gave another roll of his hips that dragged a groan from the back of her throat.

She slapped him on the shoulder, but her smile matched his. “Smug ass.”

Azriel's soft laugh tickled her cheek as he kissed it. Slowly, he pulled out of her, leaving her with a feeling of emptiness.

Not ready to let him go just yet, she curled up in his arms as soon as he lay down next to her. Azriel immediately embraced her, holding her close to his chest, their legs tangled.

A comfortable silence settled over them as they bathed in the afterglow of sex, interrupted only by their soft breathing and the blizzard still raging outside.

As the minutes passed, Y/N struggled to keep her eyes open, but she had always wanted to trace the swirling lines of Azriel's tattoos, and now she had her chance. Her fingers danced along the Illyrian design, following the pattern from his neck to his arm, then lingering a bit longer on his sculpted pecs and feeling the muscle beneath her fingertips. His heart was beating fast, pounding in his chest.

“Can you promise me something?”

She glanced up at him, his eyes already fixed on her. The corner of her lips twitched upwards. “Depends on what it is.”

Azriel was silent for a long moment before he spoke again with a new seriousness in his tone. “Promise me that we’ll give this a chance. That we’ll give… us a chance.”

Her fingers halted their roaming, her heart skipped a bit, and a part of her whispered that she had heard that wrong, that she had misunderstood. No way he was actually asking her what she thought he was asking her, despite just having had sex.

She had to swallow the lump in her throat to be able to murmur, “Do you mean that?”

Azriel's eyes softened, like he knew she was even more vulnerable now than while they were fucking, and that whether her heart broke or not depended entirely on his answer.

“I’ve waited for this for a long time too, Y/N,” he said gently, cupping her cheeks to look right into her eyes. “I don’t want just this one night with you. I want all the nights you’ll give me.”

Y/N smiled then, so bright it could have lit up the whole room. She wanted to kiss him senseless, to hold him tight and never let go. And nothing was stopping her anymore, she realized, so she did just that.

She showered his face with tiny kisses. Every beautiful inch, from his nose to his jawline, from his eyebrow to his chin. Azriel's arms wrapped around her middle to pull her closer, and she relented her assault only when he chuckled.

Their eyes met again, and she knew there was no turning back now. But she would never turn back now.

“I’ll give you all the nights in the world, Az,” she finally said once the burst of joy subsided. “And the days, too. I'll give you anything you want.”

His smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was wider than ever before and the urge to touch his small dimples rushed through her—dimples she'd never known he had, but that she'd do anything to see again.

When he kissed her, it was slow yet passionate, gentle yet desperate, their breaths mingling, their hands caressing cheeks and running through hair.

“You're the only thing I want,” Azriel murmured once their lips parted. “Every night and every day. I want only you.”

Those were probably the most beautiful words she'd ever heard. Not even in her dreams did she imagine he would say them. Dwelling on what it would be like to share moments of passion was one thing, but this…

She moved to straddle him, mindful of his wings splayed out beneath him. She wanted to run her fingers down their length, and hopefully, sooner rather than later, she might get to do just that.

“Then I hope you're not too tired, shadowsinger.” She leaned down to trail kisses along his tattoo, but her eyes never left his. “Because you can't say something like that without expecting me to fuck you again.”

His hands tightened their grip on her thighs, her words enough to ignite the fire in him once more. “I'm yours, princess. We have all night.”

“All the nights,” she corrected him with a grin, already grinding on him. “And all the days.”

Maybe they would be facing the rebels with sore bodies, after all.

Tags: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover

(If I accidentally added someone who wanted to be tagged only in part 3 of A Helping Hand and not the general tag list, please let me know and I'll fix it)

[rosenclaws]

Hii, I saw you were taking requests and was wondering if you could maybe write like slow burn smut for Logan in X-men days of futures past? I was thinking a mutant! reader in their early-mid twenties who are inexperienced and very shy/quiet. They also have powers similar to Jean grey. One night Logan and the reader are left alone in the mansion and during an innocent game of drunk 21 questions, the reader accidentally gets a glimpse of what's on Logan's mind 👀

Sorry if that's too detailed, I had a dream like this recently and I can't stop thinking of it 😭 it's okay if you don't wanna :) tysm 💞

a/n: Hi! So I hope it's okay but I didn't make this a full on smut fic. I can do a part two if you really want but I ended up making this a little different. It's a little angstier and there's spice at the end but no full on smut. I hope it's enough!

warnings: fem!reader, spicy makeout, teasing, flirting, fluff, angst.

You couldn't stop staring. Just who the hell was this man? When you had opened the door you were met with the handsome stranger. Tight denim pants and that brown leather jacket. You couldn't even answer his question. Too busy staring him down. He smirked and took off his sunglasses, leaning against the door until your faces were inches apart.

"Like what you see sweetheart?" You could barely stutter out a response before Hank and pushed you to the side and took over. Telling you to go back to the lab. With a roll of your eyes you went away.

See you had been at the mansion for years now. It was your only hope and even with it being pretty much abandoned Charles and Hank let you stay. You honed your powers while helping out around the place. It wasn't until dinner time that you finally learned what the hell was going on. The mans name was Logan and he was here to save the world from a future where mutants are being hunted into extinction.

At first you laughed, thought he was full of shit but then you peered into his mind. Only for a moment and saw it. You weren't laughing after that. So now he's sitting in your kitchen drinking beer. You were watching him from the door. Was it creepy? Yes but you couldn't stop yourself.

"You can come out now sweets, I'm not gonna bite." He looks over at you and you hide behind the door. Embarrassment creeping over you as you shyly peek your head out. He was looking at you completely unamused.

"Sorry, I got curious." He smirks and pats the seat next to him. Quietly you join him. Tapping the counter as he sits there silently. He offers you a sip of his beer and you take it.

"Blech." You scrunch your nose up. You never liked beer so you don't know why you thought this time would be different. Logan laughs and takes another sip.

"So, what were you curious about?" You stare at the counter as answer him. You can't look at him, he's too intimidating.

"Everything. Did you really come here from the future?"

"You saw in my head didn't you?" Your eyes widen in surprise. You had no clue he knew about that. Normally people can't tell and you do try to stay out of peoples minds but you couldn't resist.

"I'm so sorry I-" You're cut off by Logan's chuckle.

"You say sorry too much sweets."

"Sorry." He raises an eyebrow and smiles fondly.

The way he looks at you is strange. He doesn't seem like the friendly type and you had just met him so why is he being so nice to you.

"Am I alive in your future?" Logan's face falls, just for a moment. He covers it back up with that handsome smirk but you saw it.

"Tell you what, you get me another beer and I'll answer any questions you have." He sets down the empty bottle and waits. You open the fridge with your powers and summon a bottle of beer. He goes to reach it but you pull back.

"Ah, you answer my question first." He rolls his eyes and makes another grab for it but you move it out of both your reaches.

"As stubborn as always." He shakes his head.

"You're alive." He keeps it short. Not wanting to explain that the last time he saw you he held on so tight he almost ripped your suit. Knowing you were going into battle to protect him, to make sure he could finish the mission. You slowly bring the bottle back and hand it to him.

"So what happened? Why did they send you back? How do you know me? What's your mutation?"

"Okay okay one at a time Jesus." He answers your first question without words. Popping out metal claws from hands to take off the bottle cap.

"Woah." You reach out to touch them but he sheathes them back in before you can.

"Sentinels. They were created by Trask and they can morph to defend themselves against any mutation. I'm here to prevent the events leading up to everything."

"Couldn't this really mess up the future though? Like what if things get worse?" You ask, trying to wrap your head around the idea of time travel. It's not like it's impossible, I mean you literally control things with your mind but it's certainly a confusing concept to grasp.

"It might. But it's the only shot we had." You badly want to see what's going on in his mind. What kind of future he comes from and just how bad it really is.

"You're not asking any questions."

"Why would I?" He snorts and you catch him sneak a glance at you.

"Are we friends? Because you look at me like you know me already." Logan stays quiet. He refuses to look at you as he downs the rest of his beer. There's so much he could say but maybe he should stay quiet.

"You could say that."

"I'm sorry." You reach out for his hand. He flinches away at first but he grabs your hand when you try to pull away. He missed your touch. He missed the life he had before the sentinels. He missed you.

"For what sweetheart?" "Just, it seems like there's always so much pressure on you." He shrugs.

You haven't changed one bit. Always a big heart and a kind smile. He squeezes your hand gently. His hands are rough and they're so strong. You can't help but stare at the veins in his hands that run up to his arms. He lets go of your hand and you frown slightly.

"Logan? What happens if you fail?" You ask hesitantly, not really sure you want the answer.

"Then we're all dead." An uncomfortable silence settles over the room. You don't even know what he has to do but you know the weight on his shoulders must be enormous.

"Look you shouldn't worry about this. Trust me when I say I'm going to do everything I can." Everything he can to save you. Save the world too but in his mind you're his number one priority. He stands up and sadly you realize it's gotten late.

"Show me to my room?" He holds out his hand and you take it. You know for a fact that Hank already told him where he was staying but who are you to say no to more time with Logan.

"You tired?" He asks as you arrive at his room. You shake your head and he holds the door open.

"Want to stay?" He sees the way your eyes widen and he chuckles.

"Not like that, unless you want to." The truth is he wants more time with you.

Selfish as it may be he needs you. Just to be around you, even if you don't really know him yet. Your presence always calmed him. You nervously sit on the edge of his bed, playing with the blankets as he sheds his jacket. He's dressed in a white tank top and pants. He sighs as he lays down in bed, back against the headboard as he lights a cigar. You don't even know where he got that from. After a few moments of silence you decide to ask the forbidden question.

"Can I see what it's like?" You know that you shouldn't. That looking into his mind could be a huge mistake but you need to know.

"It's not pretty in here sweetheart. You might find something you aren't ready to see." His breath hitches as you start to move up the bed. Crawling until you're kneeling right next to him. You place your fingers on his temples.

"Logan," You whisper, asking him for approval. He nods and you close your eyes.

You're met with chaos. It's like his brain is constantly at war. Horrible memories of the future. Destruction, death. His friends are dying, the world is falling apart. Then there's you. You look older and an overwhelming feeling of desperation washes over you. You see yourself from Logan's point of view. He's begging you not to go. To stay safe and be with him but you don't stay. You have to give him the best chance. You disappear into the fog and Logan watches.

"Sweetheart," You hear his voice coming from the real world but you can't pull away. Going deeper and deeper into his mind. All the violence, all the loss this poor man has been through. So much anger.

"That's enough!" Logan grabs your wrists and tries to pull you off him but not even his super strength is enough to match your powers when you're like this.

He can see you start to panic. You haven't learned to control your powers as much yet and he can't stop you. So he takes a deep breath and starts thinking of one thing. You. Slowly the violent memories turn into something else. His brain starts to quiet and so does yours.

Years of your life together with Logan. Every kiss, every flirty glance. The quiet moments. It's like you're watching him fall in love with you. You start to calm down but then his thoughts take another turn. It's still you and him but the scenes are more...intimate.

His hands on your body, caressing, kissing. Loud moans and images that would make a grown man blush. It's dirty. It's hot. Just how much sex can two people have. He has you pinned to the bed, to the wall, over the table. In the shower, in the car, outside. Your hips start to move subconsciously against the sheets. Logan finally gets your hands free. Your breathing heavily, eyes blown wide as you stare at the man before you.

"We're together."

"Yes."

"You love me."

"Yes I do, sweetheart."

"Oh my god you've seen me naked." You gasp as you cover yourself with your hands. Logan laughs as he gently takes your hands away.

"If it helps you'll see me naked too. A lot." Your eyes glance down to his crotch briefly. From what you saw. It's big.

"This is really weird." You mumble as you sink down into the bed.

A concerned look washes over his face. He loves teasing you but never to the point of making you uncomfortable. He grabs your chin and tilts your head up.

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you sweetheart. If you want to go you're free to go." He loves you with all his heart and he knows that he's entered your life earlier than expected. So he's okay if you're not ready to know him yet. Because eventually you'll find each other again.

"It's not that. I promise. It's just. A lot." You explain. You watch the man in front of you. You saw your future together and you want it now. As selfish as that sounds you want it now.

"Can I kiss you?" You ask shyly. This man has seen you naked and taken you in every room in the mansion and yet you still nervous to ask for a kiss.

"Course you can." You cup his face, the scratchy feeling of his beard making you laugh.

Slowly you kiss him. He already knows just how you like it. Nipping your bottom lip to get access to your tongue. He slowly lays you down into the bed. Crawling over you as he deepens the kiss. You taste just as sweet as you always do.

"Logan," You moan as he places his knee in between your legs. Your hands slip under his white tank top. Groaning as you feel his chiseled abs. Fuck he's just perfect isn't he.

"Take it off." You beg as you tug his shirt. He smirks as he sits back on his knees and rips his shirt apart.

"A little dramatic don't you think." You say as he throws the scraps to the side.

"You like it." He growls. His hands coming to lift your shirt above your head.

"I can smell it on you babe. I can hear her calling my name." He bites your neck roughly as he grinds his hips against yours.

"Want me to show you a sneak peak of the future sweetheart?" He purrs as he toys with the hem of your pants. You run your hands over his bare chest. It's insane how hot he is. His eyes swirl with lust and love. A gentle care in the way he promises to ravage you. You look up at him, hands gripping onto his strong arms.

"Show me. Show me everything."

[blackdykegirlblogger]

a/n: i'm so terribly sorry for what you're about to witness. happy 2025 whores! may this new year grant you love, light, and tons of great sex (manifesting this for myself too) <3

abby who loves loves loves fucking your lights out. you were always such a good girl for her, always using your head to think such big thoughts and ideas, showing off your intelligence in every way you could.

and she loved that for you. trust me, she did. you never failed to make her so ridiculously proud of you.

but she also hated it. as delusional as it sounds, as disgusting as it sounds, she liked you best when you didn't have a single thought in your pretty head at all. when your skull was so empty that you could roll your eyes back and see absolutely nothing, think absolutely nothing. her cute lil housewife, pampered and adored and without a care in the fucking world. loose, pliable....just begging to take whatever she offered to give you. crying for it. drooling for it. pure, heartfelt devotion to the one who took such good care of you, who always made you feel so so good :(

she can't have you like that all the time, she's well aware, and has mostly accepted that her little...fantasy was going to have to remain just that. but while abby was never one to daydream, she still thinks about it a lot more than she'd ever like to admit. and it's times like these, like right fucking now, that makes her imagination run wild.

"feel good, pretty?"

she knew you were too dumb to give her an answer, and relished in that fact. she was holding up your thighs with her calloused hands, pushing your knees up to your chest as you reclined flat against hers. she had been pumping her cock in and out of your sopping hole for what felt like a millennium, the white ring around the base of her strap so thick that it dripped off the silicone and onto the mattress below you, adding to the already preexisting puddle. your senses left you several rounds ago, your knees locking and every part of your body going numb. you couldn't hear, couldn't think, hell you could barely even see through the tears clouding your vision. but that's alright. none of it mattered anyway.

truth be told, her stamina has always scared you, the countless hours she spent at the gym never failing to haunt you in bed. but this? this was just fucking cruel. you were ready to stop ages ago, cunt too achy and sensitive to keep going. but she had pleaded and pleaded with you, hitting you with the puppy dog eyes that always never worked as she circled your clit absentmindedly, knowing damn well it never took you long to get all worked up. "had such a long day, baby, was worked to the fucking bone. just one more round, yeah? for me?"

that was back when she still had you in missionary, legs wrapped around her waist as she took what she pleased on top of you. you had agreed because of course you did, but she didn't say jack-shit about having you in a full fucking nelson for hours at a time.

"thaaaattt's it. being such a perfect girl for me, huh? fucking amazing." her tip kissed your g-spot again and again, making streams of droll loll out of your mouth unconsciously as your eyelids fluttered. "good god, this pussy's amazing, doll." and in another life, maybe you would've responded to her praise, would've moaned or whined or did anything but babble mindlessly as her girth stretched you for all you were worth. but, that clearly wasn't now. suddenly, you felt her hands leave the undersides of your knees, instead choosing to wrap the rest of her bulky arms around them as she used her hands to push your head down. you were now forced to stare at the bump in your tummy (well, as much as you could cross-eyed), right underneath your belly button. shit, she was so deep.

she planted her feet firmly into the bed, her hips picking up speed once again as she abuses the drooling cunt between your legs. you couldn't run, you couldn't hide, you could do nothing but lay there all stupid and cockdrunk and take it. just like she wanted. her girl, greedy and grateful and helpless.

"well would you look at that? looks like mama's got herself her own little fleshlight."

[clockwayswrites]

Danny in Metropolis Ch2/P2

masterpost this is a first draft, please no editing or concrit <3

(much love to @fadinggalaxysalad for the idea of Kon considering his own logo)

Picking out a lunch box was surprisingly hard. It said so much about a person.

Jon's was a Robin lunch box, because of course it was. Though Kon very much doubted that Damian's was a Superboy one (especially since it wouldn't be a Superboy the Second one). Kon’s own was a simple black one that he has been doodling on all year with a silver sharpie.

Maybe predictively, school was full of lunch boxes of superheroes, pop stars, geometric colors, and semi-abstract artsy patterns. Anything deemed not too “kiddy”. Eliminating the kiddy things on the shelf didn't get Kon very far. His own logo caught his eye, sitting innocently on the shelf among the Justice League heroes.

It was a little tempting. The thought of Danny carrying around his symbol through school every day brought a flush to Kon’s cheeks.

But there was no was he was going deal with the teasing from his family for that choice.

He moved away from that area of the shelves, because he wasn't going to get Danny any other superhero's symbol either, and continued on down to the abstract section. It was small and Kon was ready to rule it out until he saw it: a mostly black bag with a stylized set of stars on it. It was a little like Kon's own bag without actually matching in a way he could be teased about. It also felt very Danny somehow.

Kon grabbed the bag before he could over think it and went to finish up the rest of the list he'd been given since he was going out anyways.

-

Danny was already at the table, head buried into his crossed arms. The rest of their table was still empty. It made it easier to walk over and set the new lunch box down in front of Danny, close enough to bump his arms.

After a beat, Danny turned enough to peer at the bag with one shadowed eye. “What's that?"

“Your lunch,” Kon said with every bit of calmness he could muster. He sat down across from Danny and put his own bag on the table.

He'd drawn a new monster in the bottom right corner during math.

“My… lunch…,” Danny repeated slowly. “I… don't have a lunch?”

“Yes you do, it's right there.”

“What.”

“Lunch, you, there, eat.”

“You Kronk,” Danny replied instantly, as if on instinct. He blinked like he was rebooting. “I'm sorry, how do I have a lunch?”

“Because my dad packed you one.”

Danny slowly reached out to poke at the bag. “…right. Why did your dad pack me a lunch?”

Kon opened his own lunch and pulled out the PB&J sandwich and took a large bite. Unabashedly, he answered with his mouth full, “Because I asked him to.”

“Con…”

“Danny, it's fine. Just eat it, okay? Not, like, don't eat anything you don't like, but there won't be anything on your no list in it.”

“Oh.” Danny reached and pulled the lunch box closer. “I… thank you? And tell your dad thank you?”

“Sure, will do,” Kon said as if it was nothing and he wasn't hiding a smile by taking another bite.

Both of them were saved from having to say anything more by the rest of their friends (a loose word, sometimes) arriving at the table. There was some shock expressed at Danny actually having lunch, but mostly good natured teasing and some expressions of how glad they were to see it.

Kon shot Danny a little look during it, and got a blush and little eye roll back for it. It was reward enough for Kon. He was just glad to see Danny eating.

[postracehair]

trust me

max verstappen x reader | 2.3k

after an incredible (and wet) weekend in brazil, you have a confession to make.

cw: a loving relationship! discussion of anxiety/fear/worrying about your race car driver bf, healthy communication, and softness galore.

a/n: being a wag must be so stressful. like, damn! also, rain races stress me out, personally. this fic is about that.

__

The triple header comes to an end in the best way possible.

Max Verstappen wins the São Paulo Grand Prix from a 17th-place start! It's the stuff of dreams. The fist around your heart unclenches just a little bit as you watch him smiling, roaring, hoisting his well-earned trophy aloft. It's your best day in a long time, watching your darling boyfriend like that, and you celebrate with everyone late into the night. The Championship battle looms in the background but tonight is about the hard work from the weekend. The stress, the frustration, the damn rain. All of it worth it for the pride you all feel right now.

But what comes after -- that, you can admit, you enjoy even more. Three weeks until Las Vegas and Max and the team have plenty of work to do before then, but for now? For now, it's this: rest.

Everyone gets to go home, finally. And for you, home is wherever Max is. You've spent the first few days of the break thus far at his place. On the floor with the cats, on the couch watching movies. In his bed, sleeping, sometimes, other times... not so much. Hours and hours just being together. You'll have plenty of time for this once the season ends but you can never get enough of him.

You're on the couch, sprawled across the length of it with a book in hand. It's a good one, so much so that you don't notice Max until he taps your ankle and you jump.

"Jesus," you gasp. His lips are pulled up at one corner in the precursor to a full grin, sweatpants slung low enough that you can see the branded band of his underwear between the drawstrings and the hem of his t-shirt. "Where did you come from?"

"Watching race replays," he says with a shrug. "Scooch." You tug your legs back and sit up a little, bookmarking your page as he rounds the couch and plops down where your feet were.

"Max," you whine. "I like to watch those, too. So you can do that thing where you narrate like, every second." You're teasing, but only a little. For all the jokes about "maxplaining," you really do love how he explains things. He tells you what he was thinking at every turn, what the trick is, how long it took him to get it right. He points out his mistakes and those of the other drivers. All of it thoroughly and with enthusiasm, answering your questions like you're the best student he's ever had.

"Yeah, well," he says, sinking into the couch, arm stretched across the cushions towards you. Your eyes rake over the line of his bicep as he talks. "You don't like rain races very much. Wasn't sure you'd want to see it again."

That gets your attention. "How did you know that?" You've never told him outright that they stress you out. It's really important to you that you keep your cool at the track, that you don't do anything to let on that he should worry about you.

But you should know better, it seems.

"I can tell," Max says, looking right at you. "I pay attention."

You hum, not sure what to say. "You've got me there," you confess. "I'm sorry."

"Hey," he tuts. "Why the apology? You can feel however you want to. This weekend was complicated."

He feels too far away. You set your book on the ground and shove your toes under this thigh. He keeps his eyes on your face but you fuss with the hem of your t-shirt rather than look back.

"They're exciting. Rain races, I mean." You sigh. "But I can't help but worry, Max. From the garage, it's so --"

You lose track of your words because Max grabs hold of your legs and tugs them over his thighs as he moves closer to you, almost crowding you against the arm of the couch. He reaches for your collarbone to pick some lint from your shirt, his other arm slung across your calves.

"Were you scared?" he asks. "This weekend, I mean."

Frankly, you avoid telling him things like this because you don't want to distract him. You don't want to detract from his performance in any way and maybe that's selfish, because you know he's very good at what he does and how you feel isn't going to derail his weekend. But you know he loves you, and you know how deeply he feels things. How much he wants to be a good partner, a good driver, a good man. And you try really hard to let him know that he is all of those things.

The reality of your position in his life is that there will always be people who heavily imply that your presence, your actions, your choices could be at fault. It's ludicrous -- Max has said so many times -- but it makes you hype-aware. You don't want to overstep. It's something you know you should articulate to him properly, but you know he'll be upset that you think you can be anything but a good part of his life. It's an endless cycle.

"Hey," he says, mistaking your silence for emotion. "Liefje, I'm fine." He reaches for you, cupping your cheek with a warm hand. You look up at him and find him frowning.

"I know," you say, leaning into his palm. "I know you are. I just -- I don't want it to sound like I'm a whining baby or something."

"Whining baby?" Max gently rubs the skin under your eye with his thumb. "Psh. We've got some of those on track. You couldn't come close to them if you tried."

That gets a laugh out of you and he cracks a smile at the small victory.

You sigh. "I was scared," you admit, voice soft. Max presses a little closer to you, his hand falling from your face to catch yours, fingers twining together.

"Are you always scared?" he asks. "You're more tense on rain weekends, I can tell that much. But you've never really talked about this. I guess I--" He frowns again. "I've never really asked you."

"That's okay," you say. "It's nothing, really."

Blue eyes bore into yours. "No, I want to know," he presses. "Please, tell me?"

You tip your head back a little, eyes on the ceiling. How to say it?

"I guess I'm always a little scared, yeah," you say. "I don't know how I wouldn't be."

He tugs on your hand so you'll look at him. "What is it, do you think?" The question comes out in his typical way. This must be how he is in driver briefings, you think fleetingly. Max is analytical, methodical, always looking for the root of the problem so he can understand it and adapt.

But how do you explain this?

"Well, it's a dangerous sport," you explain. "As you know. And I -- Max, I love you, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

The furrow of his brow lessens a bit and he presses a light kiss to the back of your hand. Your stomach flutters, even after all this time.

But Max has no time for your mooning, apparently. "Were you scared before we knew each other?" he asks.

You think about it. "It's different, I guess. I was worried, generally. For all of you. I'm still worried for all of you, but --"

His eyebrow quirks and he fails to hide a cheeky smile. "Me the most?"

You roll your eyes and squeeze his hand. "You the most. But don't tell Carlos that."

Max tuts. "So, now it's just worse? You feel it more?"

Nodding, you try to explain. "I don't even like watching on TV, now, because I'm so far away. I feel so helpless."

You can't make it to every race but you try your hardest, not only to support Max but for your own sanity. It's easier to calm yourself down when you're around other people who believe in him, when you have access to all the details and when he's only a few steps away when he's out of the car.

"I don't want you to be worried," he says, softly. "You don't let on that you are when we say goodbye before the race, aside from being a little tense."

One of your favorite pieces of race weekends -- those few moments when all of his attention is on you. He makes sure you have everything you need and leaves you with a kiss and a smile and a see you later. His confidence and his competence are like balms.

"When I'm looking at you, I'm not as stressed," you say, a bit shy. "You're very good at your job, you know. And your confidence is convincing."

"I know," he says, seriously. "That's why I know it'll be fine. Do you not know that?"

If he was less determined, you'd ask him to drop it, since you're starting to feel embarrassed. But you know he won't let it lie.

"I know it, too, Max." You reach for his face to push back some fringe from his forehead. "I'll always be worried about you, though. You get in the car and drive away and I just -- sit there. And wait for you to come back."

He frowns, deeper this time. You keep your hand on him, cupping his jaw and running your thumb along his stubble.

"And I love it. You know I was a fan before I met you and it's a dream to be there to watch you race. I love seeing you do crazy things like win from p17. It's so much fun."

He knows this about you. You've got a bit of a reputation for your facial expressions in the Red Bull garage, always the first on your feet when he overtakes, jumping up and down when he extends his lead. It's an infectious kind of joy and energy and you lean into it every time, even if your stomach is churning with anxiety.

Max is quiet for a few moments. He covers your hand with his and leans into it further.

"You trust me, right?"

"Of course," you say right away. "Always."

"I've never really thought about it," he says, slowly. "I mean, in the car. I don't worry about you because I'm not worried, so I just thought you knew not to be, too."

"I'll always worry, Max. Even though I trust you."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

Your cheeks heat and you look away from him, pulling your hand free to cradle it in your lap.

"You've got a million other things to worry about besides me," you say. "I don't want to distract you."

Max says your name with a scoff, literally waving his hand as if swatting away your silly notions. "Distract me? Come on," he says. "I wouldn't be a three-time world champion if I could get so easily distracted." He leans into your space, nosing at your jaw. "Even if you are very distracting."

You allow the attention for a few moments before pushing him back with a laugh. His cheeks are flushed, hair a bit of a mess, like after he takes off his helmet. And, god, he looks relaxed. You're so proud of him you can hardly stand it. The season is almost over and you know he's got a lot of work ahead of him, and you've got a lot of worrying. But he's motivated, and you know he can win. You know he'll come back to you.

Max leans his head back on the couch and casts his gaze sideways at you, nose scrunched. "I can't fix this, can I? You're still going to worry."

He sounds so resigned, so disappointed in himself that you tug on his hand so he'll get closer. This time, you frame his face with your hands and kiss him, just a light press of your lips to his. Both of you sigh into it, and you drag your mouth along his cheek until you reach his ear.

"I'm still going to worry," you whisper. "But I love you and I trust you. And I know it'll be okay."

Max sighs and presses his forehead to your shoulder, practically pulling you into his lap so he can wrap his arms around you.

"You better hope it doesn't rain for the rest of the season," he mumbles.

"That damn VSC," you groan, pulling back from him a bit. "I was going to tear my hair out!"

Max laughs. "It kept things interesting," he says lightly. "Rain isn't really a problem for me, schatje, you know this --"

"Because you're Dutch, I know, Max." You roll your eyes. "Even Fernando couldn't keep it together! I mean, the gasps from the garage when --"

The seriousness of your conversation fades as you trade tidbits about the race -- you've done this already, hashed it out in the hotel room and the flight home and in bed since Sunday. Max watches you talk, elbow braced on the couch and his head resting in his hand. His eyes sparkle and you know you're amusing him as he corrects you on the turn names and who went in the wall when. Max loves you: you've never doubted this. He loves you and he cares about how you feel and doesn't want you to be worried.

And while you will be, because you love him, you know that it'll be alright.

"Hey," Max says, interrupting your opinions about start procedures. "I love you, okay? Thank you for worrying about me."

"Graag gedaan," you say. Well, you try to say. Max laughs and corrects your pronunciation. You're welcome, he says, over and over, a kiss to your cheeks, your nose, your forehead each time. Ik houd van je. Your lips, your neck, your jaw.

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

[binniesbooks]

heyyy! absolutely loved your 100 followers special fic like it was so insanely good!!!

please can i request a bsf!beomgyu fic where he discovers through porn that women can squirt and during your next hangout he asks you about it and when you tell him you can he gets all excited and asks you to show him. this then ends in him fucking you till you squirt on his dick multiple times. can you make both beomgyu and the reader a switch if you don’t mind and only if you’re comfortable tho :) the beomgyu brain rot is getting to me 😭

• IS IT TRUE?

BG 001 .F23 2024

wc 3.6k

pairings bestfriend!Beomgyu x fem!reader

warnings switch reader x switch Gyu, mutual pining, porn watching, caught self relieving, oral sex (m. receiving), slight flood play, kissing, marking, unprotected sex, pull out method, squirting, mentions of hair pulling and scratching if you squint (+ anything I've missed)

faye's note I tried my best to make a great plot, I really did! I hope it worked. To the anon who requested this one, I'm sorry it took me so long, I was procrastinating, LMAO. SORRY 😭

"Beomgyu-" The nasty moans and lewd sounds coming from the computer were abruptly stopped when Beomgyu slammed his laptop shut. 

"What the fuck were you watching?" Yeonjun's brows creased as he stared at the younger awkwardly sitting on the bed, a pillow on his lap and a blanket covering his lower half.

"W-what?" Beomgyu stammered. 

Yeonjun's grin grew wider as his eyes scanned the room. A laptop that was forced shut, a box of tissues, a sweaty body in this air-conditioned room—what else was a guy to do, if not pleasure himself when alone?

"Damn, it looks like I've caught you at a bad time!" Yeonjun exclaimed, a faint chuckle rumbling within his chest. His teasing voice and giggles made Beomgyu blush.

"Okay, okay, I'll just talk to you later, take care of yourself first," Yeonjun said, throwing a knowing look and a teasing smile.

"H-hyung, hyung wait!" Beomgyu tried to stop Yeonjun, but the door was already shut. Besides, he can't just get up naked, can he?

He throws his head back against the pillow, groaning in embarrassment as he runs his palm against his face, muttering a frustrated "fuck" under his breath.

"So..." you started. "Why are you here again?"

"Can't a friend visit you? God, you're not as welcoming as before," Beomgyu barked, rolling his eyes as he threw the plastic bag full of snacks on the table and plopped down on your couch. And when he removes the hood of his jacket, he reveals the mess that was his hair underneath.

"I mean, you can, yeah. But... Do you know what time it is?" you replied, pulling your jacket against your body.

"3 o'clock," he answered.

"3 o'clock in what?"

"3 o'clock in the morning! But whatever!" he grunts, throwing a temper tantrum on the couch.

"Why are you here then?" you asked, sitting beside him.

"Just wanna see you. It's been a while," he muttered under his breath.

"You know you can't just drop by anytime, right?"

"I know, I know. I've just had trouble sleeping at night these past few days again," he sighed, leaning his head back on the couch.

"Am I your sleeping pill or something?" your brows raised and your voice teasing.

"What if I say that you're my medicine?" Beomgyu looked you straight in the eye. And there you are, embraced by his warm gaze, trapped inside the pretty door to his soul.

You leaned closer to him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek, running your fingers through his hair.

"Stay the night—or whatever you call the time now, I hope you have a good rest even if it's just for today." 

Beomgyu has been your friend since you were in your teenage years—typical. He shuts other girls off, as he only gives his attention to you. He doesn't want to be involved in any relationship of sort—that includes you, though. He may be your best friend, your best partner, but neither of you two admitted anything. Just two young hearts showing care and love towards each other. 

Some say you should date each other, which the two of you would only answer with a sheepish smile. Sometimes, he would drop by at your place, hang out with you, and enjoy the rest of his free time. You've been to his place a few times, but you insisted on him going to your place instead, since he's living with his friends. 

Often times, you'll share a kiss or two with him—anything but a kiss on the lips. He loves it when you sit on his lap while he plays at your computer, giving your shoulder a few bites and planting soft kisses. He loves cuddling you to sleep, draping his arm over your waist, pulling you closer to his chest, his warm breath fanning across your nape. 

Beomgyu could walk around your house half naked without you giving a fuck. He does anything as if it were his own home, and you don't mind at all. You're used to it, nothing new. 

Everything about this is pretty normal between the two of you. The kisses, the skinship, the hugs, the cuddles—anything that a 'just friends' friend won't normally do. Well, in your case, it was. 

"Can you come closer? I need to feel your warmth," Beomgyu pleaded, unzipping his jacket.

"Gyu, how much closer do you need me to be? Should I just sew my skin onto yours?" you chuckled as you shifted on the bed, scooting closer to him.

"I missed you. I missed holding you in my arms." he mumbles as he hugs you tight. 

"You're such a baby, Gyu. Do you know that?" you complained, burying your face in his chest, hugging him closer.

A few minutes had passed, yet Beomgyu was still awake. Busying himself with combing his fingers through your hair as he watches you peacefully sleep. 

His fingers traced the outline of your face. "I love you. I hope you know that," he whispered, planting a kiss to the top of your head before he shuts his eyes.

You woke up with heavy limbs draped upon your body. Beomgyu may have mistaken you for a pillow.

"Gyu... Gyu, you're so heavy, move over." Your voice cracked as you gasped for air.

"Gyu, what the hell, scoot over," you grunt again, trying to push him, but his body is far too big for you to push on your own.

"Choi Beomgyu!" You shouted.

Beomgyu squirmed. And instead of getting himself off of you, he pulled you even closer.

"What's your deal?" You frowned, trying to push him away.

Beomgyu grunts as he hides in your neck, rolling over, causing the two of you to crash down onto the floor. 

But instead of getting angry at him, your frown turned into a fit of laughter as you saw him wince and massage the back of his head and his buttocks.

"Did you have a good sleep?" you asked, stirring a cup of coffee.

"Mhm, I did, thank you. I'll get going now, the boys might already be looking for me," Beomgyu said as he pulled you in for a hug.

"You're not gonna eat breakfast here?"

His tall figure towers over you as he pinches your cheeks, "I'll do it next time. Let's have breakfast together next time, okay? Eat the snacks I brought earlier and take care of yourself." You watched him step out, closing the door behind him. 

It hadn't even been a whole 24 hours when he came back to your place.

"I wanna watch a movie; the guys are boring to be with!" he frowns, feigning frustration--- He actually never asked them to do so. Just a reason for him to drop by your place again.

"Bring the ice cream from the freezer, then," you said as you prepared the couch, bringing some soft pillows and a fuzzy blanket. 

You actually have no idea what the movie was all about. You even missed the title because you went to the restroom last minute. The only thing you know is that it's a 18+ rated movie. Well, it's not your first time watching something like this with Beomgyu, you've watched multiple movies that aren't child friendly. 

Plus, the fact that the two of you could even talk about anything sexual as if you're just talking about food and any other light topics makes this normal. Although sexually wise, neither one of you has experience. Considering that you both shut people away as if your world only revolves around each other.

And although this isn't the first time you're watching something like this with Beomgyu, it is the first time you saw him shove a pillow over his lap. It is the first time he's trying his best to avoid any skin contact with you. 

"Is everything okay? You're so distant," you commented, licking a spoonful of ice cream.

"Actually... There's.. there's something I want to ask," he started, turning his body to face you.

"That is?"

"That.. I.. Uhm, I just watched this from... You know..."

"Porn?" you bluntly answered.

"Y-yeah. And uh, is it true?"

"What's true? Geez, say it straight, Gyu," you rolled your eyes as you dug another spoonful of ice cream.

"Let me finish my sentence!" he pouts, making you chuckle. Beomgyu wasn't normally nervous around you, this is the first time.

"Is is true.. that.. girls can.. uhm.. the liquid... Like.." he continued stammering.

You looked at him straight in the eye and said, "That girls squirt?" Beomgyu nodded frantically as he tried to avert his gaze.

"It's more common than you think, Gyu," you answered as you returned your gaze to the movie. However, you're shocked about what's already happening on the TV. It was a fucking sex scene! Obscene sounds are coming from the speakers resonating in your living room. You gulped and shifted nervously.

"S-so you mean, you can do it?" Beomgyu dug his fingers into the pillow, his face painted with embarrassment and anticipation at the same time.

"Well..."

"Can you show it to me?" he said, cutting you off.

"W-what?" You looked at him in surprise. Why would a friend ask something like that?

"I.. I mean. I mean... Like..." he tried finding an appropriate approach.

"Are you initiating something, Choi Beomgyu?" You turned your whole body towards him. He bit his lower lip, his adams apple bobbed up and down as he gulped, swallowing the same embarrassment and sexual frustration.

"If... If you want to... I... I wanna see it.. I wanna see you," he whispered, his lips already red and swollen from how hard he was biting them. 

You weighed the pros and cons in your mind first. But, yeah, who cares? You're attracted to him anyway! It's a win-win situation, right?

"I swear, if you tell a single soul about this," you warned before straddling him, grabbing his shirt, and crashing your lips on his.

He forcefully pulled the pillow from his lap away, causing you to stumble a little, desperate to feel you even in the tiniest bit. His hands landed on your waist, trying to push you down on his lap.

You pulled away, "Stop. Hands off."

He stared at you with big puppy eyes and a pout, "Y/n," he whines. 

"Keep your hands off me if you want to know if it's true." Beomgyu placed his hand on his side. Trying his best not to touch you, gripping the fuzzy blanket instead, veins popping on his neck as he threw his head back. What a good day to wear sweats, he could fully feel you, and you could fully feel him hardening each second. 

Beomgyu used to order you around. He's a bit bitchy and bossy. Yet he's being pliant today. So you were enjoying this, watching him crumble under you, doing anything you were saying.

You moved your hips again, making him emit a desperate moan. Calling your name like the sex-deprived man he is, "P-please... Please it hurts..." he whines again, tears threatening to spill, nails almost tearing your blanket apart. Yet you grind again, teasing him some more. "If you cum too early, you'll end up not knowing whether it's true," you taunt. So he bucks his hips up, along with loud moans and whimpers, drowning the long forgotten movie in the background, too desperate and stimulated.

"M-more..." he whispered under his breath, almost unheard if you didn't pay attention, not wanting to get ahead of himself. 

You stopped your movement, making him groan and gasp. But blush crept up his pretty face when you moved down between his legs, spreading them open, kissing the tent on his sweats. He drapes his arm on his face as he throws his head back. He didn't know this would happen. He only asked if you could show him how you squirt, but he didn't expect for you to give him more.

"Y/n," he muttered, his hand muffling his mouth, "I-if you don't f-feel like it, you d-don't have to do this...."

"You don't want this, Gyu?" He looked down at you, only to throw his head back again when he saw you pouting with big round eyes. 

"Fuck..." He sighed, "Can I at least hold your head?"

And you let him. You let him tangle his fingers on your hair, but he's not allowed to push you down. You let him grip on your hair, but he's not allowed to pull you back.

As you pulled his sweats down, he tried his best to look at you. But he would end up closing his eyes because he can't look at you straight in the eye. 

"I won't give you a head if you don't look at me," you giggled, making him whine for the nth time.

And so he tried his best to maintain eye contact. Even when he's struggling to keep his eyes open because it feels too good. Even when he could only gasp because you're doing your best to take him whole in your mouth. He heard you gag over and over, yet he can only tangle his fingers in your hair gripping it. He wants to push you down, to fuck your pretty little mouth, to cum already, but he's waiting for your signal. He wants to be a good boy for you. He wants to be good. He wants you to praise him. He wants you to shower him with kisses later on because he was obliging to your commands.

And an idea came to your mind. You scooped out some of the melted ice cream and let it drip on his fully erect and wet cock. Beomgyu whimpers at the cold sensation.

"T-that's... Ahhh..." His voice was too shaky as he tried to form a sentence. Which he wasn't very successful in doing.

You carefully licked the melted ice cream, pushing your tongue on his slit.

"Y/n, c-can I cum? It.. ahh.. it hurts s-so much, p-please," he pleaded, drool rolling down from the corner of his lips, crying.

"Since you're too pretty, sure," you smiled sweetly, full of innocence. He lets go of your hair, placing them down on the couch, clutching on the blanket again. With one thrust in your mouth, he came undone, shooting spurts of sticky white cum inside your mouth. 

Beomgyu tried catching his breath as he looked down at you. He reached for your face, pressing on each side to make you open it. He watched your tongue swirl around the pool of his cum. Beomgyu pressed his thumb on your tongue, playing with his cum. "Swallow."

With a single command, you quickly obliged, swallowing the mix of sweet and salty taste from his cum and the ice cream. This time you felt so little under him as you sat on the floor between his legs. You opened your mouth for him to check. "Good girl," he smiled as he pulled you up, making you straddle him again.

"Did you enjoy your time ordering me around, baby?" He asked, tucking your hair behind your ear. You smiled at him, nodding with a wide grin.

His hand ran lower to your chest, touching your breast, causing you to bite your lower lip. 

"Tell me, why aren't you wearing a bra, hm?" He stared at you straight in the eye, raising his eyebrow, looking for a proper answer.

"I didn't know you were gonna drop by again," you pout.

"I see," he said, pinching your nipple.

"G-gyu..." you whimpered.

"Hm?" You looked away, clutching at the hem of your shirt. 

Beomgyu rolls your nipples against his finger again, making you quiver.

"G-gyu!" You moaned, holding his wrist. 

"What is it? Are you lost?" he chuckled, pulling your nipple.

"Ahh! Shit! Mhhmp!" you collapsed above him, hiding in his neck, whimpering and whining over and over again. You heard him let out a hearty chuckle again before wrapping his arms around your waist. 

"Too much?" he asked, and you nodded as an answer. "Okay, okay, I won't do it again, remove your pajama," he whispered.

You get off of him to discard your silk pajama, before repositioning yourself on top of him again. He kissed your forehead and played a little with the band of your panties.

Aligning his tip on your clothed pussy, he tried thrusting, teasing you, and smirking at how you squirm and pout at the stimulation.

Yet when he pushed your panties to the side, he saw the sticky wetness on the cloth from your hole. "So you're ordering me around while you're being wet like this, am I right?" he grinned.

He started teasing your pussy, pushing his red tip and letting it slide away. "Aww, too bad, I think it won't fit," he pouts, still teasing you. You whined back, wanting to feel him bare.

He teased you more and more. Until you couldn't take it anymore as you rose to your knees and aligned him against your hole, forcing your way down. You ended up collapsing in his arms again. Not prepared at all as you felt a burning pain from the stretch of his fat cock.

"God fucking damn it, don't do that again, you'll end up hurting yourself," Beomgyu winces as he tries to soothe you by combing your hair and kissing your face.

"No matter how desperate you want to feel me, don't do that again, okay? I haven't even properly stretched you out yet," he whispered, rubbing your back.

"Come here," he pulled your face to give you a kiss. A kiss that washed the pain away. Tongues fighting, teeth clashing, saliva mixing. It was nasty, lewd, and filthy. Yet you love it, moaning at the feeling. Especially when Beomgyu started to thrust his hips up, slowly training you with his size. 

His lips traveled down to your neck, leaving splotchy red marks and wet open-mouthed kisses in his wake. His hand fully grasped your breasts, slowly massaging them, occasionally rolling your nipples beneath his fingers, enjoying the way you moan his name in his ear as you catch your breath. 

Then he pulled away, holding your waist as he started his precise and delicious thrusts. 

"Deep?" he asked, tilting his head to the side with a grin. You nodded, both of your hands on his chest to keep your balance.

"How deep?" he smirked.

"H-here," you managed, pulling his hand and letting him press on your abdomen. You whimpered when he pressed harder, making you feel every curve and vein of his cock.

"Will you show me how you squirt? How did you find out you can?" he bombed you with questions, still maintaining his pace in thrusting inside your gummy walls.

"W-will show you G-gyu, will do... I ..ahh.. f-found out... One time when I t-touched myself," you started. "W-when you c-called me.. mmmph! W-with your morning voi....voice."

"You're touching yourself to my voice? Fuck, how desperate are you?" he scoffed, thrusting harder.

"W-wait! Ahh! Too m-much! Gyu!" You hid on his neck again, feeling so little and inferior. 

"I-it was only one time! I.. I never did it again!" You managed to squeak out, voice muffled on his neck.

"Then let's make you squirt again, yeah?" he sneered, pulling you back by your hair as you groan at the pleasuring pain spreading through your scalp.

He lifted you up for a bit, and he started fucking your hole with a faster and rougher pace. "Squirt on my cock, squirt on my cock." He kept on repeating it over gritted teeth, adding force to every thrust.

"G-gyu, w-wait, I'm gonna cum--" Clear liquid came out gushing from your hole, pushing his cock out along with your creamy cum, soiling your couch.

"Fuck.. do it again!" His grin grew wider as he lifted you up again and thrusted even harder with greater force.

"Gyu! Gyu! Beomgyu!" You chanted his name over and over again, your toes curled and your stomach twisted at the overstimulation. Yet he kept on fucking into you.

And again, you let out a gush of clear liquid. Whole body spasming above Beomgyu. His cock twitches as he pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek. 

"T-this is dirty G-gyu," you muttered below your breath, body spent as you found support from his shoulder.

"No. I like it. This is fucking hot. Makes me wanna fuck you more," he laughs.

You eyes flicker across the room. The couch, the blanket, and the pillows were wet. The chocolate-flavored ice cream smeared on his pants.

Beomgyu slowly slides himself inside you again, thrusting more precisely, wanting to cum inside you this time. He buried his face in your neck as he pushed your hips down. 

"F-fuck! Wanna fill you up!" 

"P-pull out, Gyu! Please!" you pleaded, clawing his back.

Beomgyu pulls out. Hissing through his teeth, he pumped his cock a few times and ended up cumming on your tummy. 

"Fuck," he pants, leaning back on the couch and pulling you to his chest. 

You heard how his heart thumped so hard and how his breathing was so ragged. You buried your face in his neck, allowing your heart to calm down. And realization settled in. You just had sex with your best friend.

"If you won't still ask me to date you after today, I'll ask Kai out, I know he likes me." You muttered, feigning nonchalance.

"What the fuck? Do you want me to tell them how good I made you feel?" he taunts, tangling his fingers in your hair as he gives it a little pull, making you moan.

"See? Only I am allowed to see you like this, to make you so spent like this, understood?" he frowns.

"Only if you date me," you said as you latched your lips on his neck, leaving a mark of ownership.

"Fuck," he scoffed, touching the part where you left a mark when you pulled away. 

@binniesbooks 2024

[shotofstress]

Coming back after being almost a week without electricity, phone, and internet connection. Huge storms with lightning and rain, and winds. We have never have winds like that here and the roof of so many houses were ripped off, stuff flying, etc. All this bc global warming, and the deforestation and mining in our lands. At this rate, in 5 years we will have tornadoes, a thing we have never ever have here. Nor our lands, infrastructures, states, and culture are prepared for this. Areas of the country are devastated, ppl have died, many are without electricity nor Internet connection so they are isolated. The houses are flooding with water, and the ones that not, are leaking from the ceiling. Too many neighbours and compatriots don't have roofs and the streets are full of fallen trees and pieces of roof material, no electricity, no signal, food rotting, but suffering at the same time for the cold of this terrible winter, and trying to do something, patching even when its gonna go to hell when the storm comes again this next days. More than 33,200 people affected and 41,500 isolated due to 5 days of rain and windstorms. In just a couple of days there were 170,000 homes left without power due to wind and rainstorms and even more as time went by.

If u want to help me to fix the roof, walls, to buy food and being warm this winter please check my PayPal. If u can't donate, please reblog bc thats the only way to make this being seen by ppl thus receiving help. I'm really not being able to keep living like this, i can no longer cope, so please share.

Here are in my PayPal or MACH . I took the kofi link bc they were charging me a fee.

Please, educate about global warming and the effects on Global South, specially for working class, chronically ill, autistic, disable, and long covid survivor ppl like myself.

Edit: I added links and pics

Edit: the weather is better (is finally spring at this current date 24th nov), but I still need to fix were I live/sleep bc the walls are broken and one of the walls is not a wall, but like 1cm wide stuff and all was bad build so even the door is twisted and dont work correctly, there is black mold that i think is damaging my ears, the paint is falling, the lamp has fallen, everything is broken and ugly, etc. I still need to buy food, meds, and everything so please, please, share or donate if you could. I don't want to survive like this and here, no one mask even when they were the ones giving me covid and they have making me also catch flu the other day bc they cogh over everything and don't care if they kill me, they are abusive and really violent people and are working to put me and everyone in danger. I dont even want to be in my country bc we will have a dictatorship soon, but I have nowhere else to go nor money to migrate (i need like $10.537 dollars or € 9.760,95 euros to pay all the documents, the bank money I have to show to prove I am a human being deserver of rights, the tickets, rent money and stuff to migrate).

I currently (date 14 Jan 2025) have $100 dollars donated (coz i spent 40 in food and meds this past month)

I know i will die here, but at least help me to survive in a less dehumanising way.

Edit: tumblr has blocked me from recive or send messages from the chat and comment of posts, so if you are trying to reach throughout there I can't see it, sorry, I'm cut from any communication (cant even see past messages from chat or asks), except send asks. I'm waiting that tumblr do something, but still hasn't even answered the help file I sent to them.

[youunravelme]

to all the girls you've loved before part seven

author's note: WHEW okay i am so sorry it took five days short of a year to finish this. what a wild ride it has been! i just wanted to shout out my dear friend @dani746 who has cheered me on (and roasted me) many times throughout this process. i probably wouldn't have finished this without you. i also want to shout out my other friend @thewintersoldierdisaster who helped me process so much of this part to get it written. you both are the best and i owe you both big time! i also owe all of you who have read and reblogged and replied and liked this series over the last year and a half, you have been so amazing! anyway, here's part seven! (and not to worry, while this is the last part of the series, i will be writing more about mama bear and mat).

pairing: single dad!mat barzal x reader

summary: being a nanny for rich people was probably the worst thing that ever happened to you, until you started working for mat.

warnings: children, rich people, fear of falling in love, anxiety

day seventy-one

you arrived at sydney and matt's in thirty minutes. it probably would've taken less time had traffic not been absolutely abhorrent due to the holiday.

you thanked the driver and paid before grabbing your bag and walking out into the cold air.

in your rush, you forgot a jacket.

you stumbled up the martin's front steps, and dialed sydney's number, pointedly ignoring the five missed calls and eleven texts from mat.

"hello?" thank god sydney sounded awake.

"hey," you exhaled. "can you let me in? i need a place to stay for tonight."

you could hear her mumble something to her husband. and the door was opened thirty seconds later.

matt ushered you in without a word. sydney met you in the foyer with a crease between her brows at the sight of your jacket-less frame and the bag in your hands.

"what happened?" she asked as she led you to the living room and sat you down on a couch. a ringtone sounded and when you turned around matt was answering his phone.

your focus shifted to matt who was looking straight at you. "hey barzy," he said. "yeah, she's here." he nodded, but his eyes were focused on you and sydney. "she got here just a minute ago. no she doesn't have a jacket. syd's with her now." matt hummed into the phone. "we'll drive her to the airport tomorrow, don't worry about it."

you wanted to bury yourself into the pillows. you wanted the couch to swallow you whole.

you didn't hear the end of the conversation matt had on the phone. to be quite frank, you weren't sure you wanted to hear it at all.

matt joined you and syd on the sectional. he threw an arm around the back of the couch and the very sight of it made you sick. you loved them together, you did, that wasn't your problem.

it just reminded you how jason never did anything close to that.

or more importantly (and maybe this was your bigger concern): your shoulders felt cold without mat's arm wrapped around them.

"what happened?" matt asked. and you had to give it to him, you appreciated the "no bullshit" approach he was taking, even if you felt a little attacked.

you opened and closed your mouth repeatedly, but no words came out.

"i'm asking because barzy sounded like he was two seconds away from a full blown panic attack."

you could feel your ears getting hot. your cheeks were getting warm. you wanted to throw up.

"we kissed," you mumbled.

the martins blinked, and you had to give credit where credit was due, sydney didn't shout "i told you so." matt, though, seemed to recognize that the conversation was probably best had between you and sydney because he pressed a kiss to the side of her head and walked out of the room.

sydney nodded and cocked her head to the side. "why did you run?" she asked.

you broke eye contact to look at your hands which were furiously picking at your cuticles. you could see her move closer, leaning forward on her elbows.

sydney said your name quietly. "what happened? did he overstep a boundary? i can get matt to say something to him--"

"i kissed him," you admitted, still not looking up. "i kissed him and freaked out and ran."

“why?”

you exhaled and continued picking at your fingers. "jason said some shit that just got under my skin and now i can't stop thinking about it."

sydney waited for a moment before she spoke again. "what did he say?"

you couldn't see, and it took you a minute to realize that it was because your eyes were blurring with tears. it felt pathetic to sniffle and wallow when it was your fault.

it was all your fault.

"no it's not, honey," sydney said, sounding closer than she did a few minutes ago. you didn't even realize you had said anything. "what did your ex say to you?"

"he said mat would eventually get bored of me. whether that meant just in general or if we slept together."

"you know that's not true, right?"

you halfheartedly shrugged.

sydney was beside you now. she placed her hand on your knee and squeezed. "honey, it's not true. jason treated you like shit, if the one interaction i saw the two of you have was any indication." when you didn't reply, she sighed. "we don't have to talk about it anymore. let's get the guest room set up so you can get some sleep."

it took all of ten minutes for the guest room to be ready. you were curled into the bed moments later.

you found yourself staring at the ceiling wondering how you could've ruined your life so quickly.

you shouldn't have kissed him.

god what were you thinking.

at a professional level, he was your boss, at a technical level, he was a roommate and also—

the best guy you'd ever known.

not that it mattered at the end of the day. you kissed him and ruined any sort of relationship, professional or platonic, you could've had. you might not have been a stem girly, might not be a rocket scientist, but even you could knew that it didn't matter if the stars aligned—

there was no way mat barzal was in love with you.

so you cried yourself to sleep and dreamt of the hazel eyes that had enraptured your heart.

day seventy-two

matt drove you to the airport and thankfully said nothing about your puffy eyes and messy hair. it was safe to say you were restless all night, barely feeling like you slept at all when your alarm went off.

“do you need someone to pick you up when you get back into town?” matt asked as jfk airport approached.

you hesitated. “i hadn't thought that far ahead,” you admitted. “mat was supposed to pick me up, but i don't think he'll want to see me.” not after you ruined everything.

matt nodded. “text syd and let her know when your flight gets into town and we’ll figure something out. if not us, then i’m sure the lees can help.”

when he pulled up to the airport, you gave him a grateful smile and a small thanks before grabbing your personal item and carry on and getting out of his suv. for a brief second, you contemplated jumping back in his car and begging matt to take you back to mat and ella, but you forced your legs to carry you into the airport, telling yourself your mother would be upset if you missed your flight.

so you walked through the airport, through tsa, to your gate, onto the plane, like a zombie. you couldn't stop imagining the way mat’s lips felt against yours, couldn't stop hearing jason’s words in your head like a broken record.

and when your plane took off, you imagined and wondered how mat did it all the time. your stomach dropped as you increased in elevation. your heart lurched when you looked at your lock screen, a photo of the three of you after one of his games.

you should change it, but you loved that little girl and that photo was one time of many recent memories where you felt like you truly belonged.

you locked your phone to keep yourself from thinking about it too much.

your mom met you in your hometown’s airport with a cheesy poster with your baby pictures plastered all over it. she squealed and shoved the poster at your father in favor of nearly tackling you to the ground. you could've cried in her arms, the weight of the last few months catching up to you. for all your parents’ faults, of which there were many, it felt good to be with them again.

your mom pulled back and gave you a watery smile. her hands framed your cheeks as she pulled your head down to place a kiss in your hair. “we've missed you, sweetheart,” she said. “christmas wasn’t christmas without you.”

“missed you too, mom.”

your dad scooped up your carry on and led you to the beat up suv he'd had since you were a sophomore in high school.

the backseat felt familiar like wearing your dad’s old college t-shirt, like fitting into something you'd previously forgotten about. your parents recapped the last few months to you, as they told you about the family drama and what happened at christmas. you were only half listening, doing your best to keep up when you left your heart and mind in new york. you glanced at your parents, married for thirty years, been through their own fair share of struggles. you passively wondered if there was ever this crippling fear in their chests at the idea of loving someone else, or of even falling in love and the enormity of it.

you knew logistically you weren't the first person to fear the act of falling, but you felt so alone in it.

wasn't it crazy? humans had been falling in love for ages and yet you felt completely isolated in this feeling. you weren't the first woman to fall in love with her boss, with a single father, with an athlete. you probably weren't the first to fall in love with a man who was all of the above—

but god it felt like it.

the entire experience felt confining. you knew there were girls dating famous athletes, but they were models, or rich, or childhood sweethearts, or not as mentally fucked up as you currently felt. you were never gonna be sydney or grace or sofia or any of the other nice girls you’d met. you were a nanny, a girl who chose a useless major in a highly competitive city who couldn't handle the stress of a starbucks in new york city at 8am. then you’d gone and kissed mat and consequently felt lighter than you had in the weeks it’d been since you found out your ex cheated on you with the girl you lived with.

but as soon as it ended, you remembered seeing the rangers jersey discarded on your living room floor. you remembered the way your stomach dropped to your toes, how you wanted so badly to pretend it wasn’t happening, but the noises from your roommate’s bedroom were evidence enough.

the writing was in the stars, it was in the fucking clouds, on the fucking wall. every man you'd had been with prior, you'd realized, treated you like garbage. your high school boyfriend never texted or called you back at a reasonable time. your sophomore year of college boyfriend never fully committed, saying he was too busy during football season.

then there was jason who didn’t really show red flags until you started working for mat.

he’ll get bored of you.

“honey? you okay? you went quiet for a second.”

your mom’s voice snapped you out of whatever that mental spiral was.

you gave her your best convincing smile and nodded. “just thinking.”

“how’s that boyfriend of yours?” your dad asked. “jack? joseph?”

“jason?” you gritted out through your painfully tight smile.

your dad snapped and smiled. “that’s his name. how is he?”

“i wouldn’t know, we’re not together anymore,” you mumbled just loud enough for them to hear, but not loud enough for it to echo in your brain.

the car went silent, even as the radio crackled out some random eighties bop from when your parents were in college.

“are you okay?” your mom asked.

“i’m fine.”

day seventy-three

your parents didn't make you celebrate christmas as soon as you got into town. they, thankfully, waited a day before calling your entire extended family over to watch you open presents alone. you smiled and thanked each member for their corresponding present. you dutifully laughed at every joke and sipped at your glass of red wine in hopes that the acidity would distract you from heavier things.

like the texts from sydney asking if you were alright.

or the video from mat of ella playing with the stuffed hippo you got her. you'd watched it ten times just to hear her laugh that she definitely inherited from his childlike cackle. you couldn't help but see the scrunched up face of ella’s that was a carbon copy of her father’s. but even after all that, you still didn't have the heart to reply. what would you even say?

“aw she’s so cute! also sorry i kissed you and ran away?”

you were on your fourteenth watch of the video when he texted again.

mat: let me know when your flight is coming back into town, we’ll pick you up.

you locked your phone and took a sip of your wine. and when your cousin did a cartwheel in the middle of the living room and nearly knocked over the christmas tree? you smiled politely while her parents chided her while you tried to forget the similar stories mat’s parents told you about his childhood.

as the family members cleared out, you helped your parents clean up the common areas. you were in the kitchen with your mom loading the dishwasher when she asked the question you were dreading.

“when are you going back to new york?”

your hands nearly dropped the plate you were holding, but you recovered quickly. “i have to be back before the isles’ next roadie.” a non answer, but you didn't feel like pulling out your calendar and counting the days to see how close you were to facing the mess you left on the island.

“are you staying for new year’s?”

you didn't need to look at your calendar to know you'd already been gone for too long. you'd memorized mat’s schedule at the beginning of the season when you started working for him. his roadie started on new year’s eve.

when you did the dreaded math, you had maximum two days left before you had to head back and take care of ella like nothing had happened.

“i can’t, mat has a road trip that starts on new year’s eve.” you couldn't even look at her. “i’m sorry, mom.”

but she shrugged your apology off and hugged you from behind with a tight grip. “don't apologize, baby. i just wish you'd tell us what's going on.”

“there’s nothing going on—”

your mother said your name, a cross between gentle and chastising. “i was born at night, but not last night. i know you, i know when something’s wrong. if you don't want to talk about it, that’s fine. you're an adult. but don't lie and say you're okay.”

you nodded but didn't offer up any more information.

“when you're ready,” she said, rubbing your back. “when you're ready to talk, i’m here to listen.” your mom pressed a kiss to your cheek, squeezed your shoulders, and walked out of the kitsch, leaving you to gaze out the window over the sink.

day seventy-five

sydney picked you up from the airport at noon with a certain smile on her face that you couldn't place. the backseat was devoid of her kids, so you assumed they were with the nanny or matt was home already with the kids.

she did most of the talking, which you were thankful for. you still felt unsettled back on the island so soon. too soon, if anyone asked. there was nothing more that you wanted than to go back home and hide under the covers in your childhood bedroom, pretending that your biggest fears were monsters in the shapes of shadows from your closet doors.

you were only halfway paying attention. your thoughts were monopolized by the last memories you had before going to your parents’ house. the sound of ella’s laugh when she opened your gift, the warmth in your chest at the anders and grace’s christmas party because you felt so welcomed in by people you'd only known for a few months, the overwhelming unnamable emotion in your stomach at the photo album mat gave you, the capsizing undertow feeling of being seen and known, how mat’s lips felt against your own like every good thing you’d ever done was to make sure you deserved that moment.

you were floating in your own thought bubbles when sydney parked her car in the garage. your eyes didn't wander to the car parked in the street, or the reason why she brought you to her place instead of the one you shared with mat.

you weren’t thinking of any of that until you heard his laugh from the living room.

but your feet were already carrying you there, following sydney diligently like you always did. you stood there in the entrance of the living room, your bag still wheeled behind you.

he'd robbed you of all oxygen.

it was like a spotlight was on him and the nearly eleven month old baby in his arms. a closer look showed that ella was barely holding her eyes open, but she was clinging to her hippo like her life depended on it. 

she looked so small, curled into mat’s chest, but so big compared to when you first met her.

her father cheering loudly when he scored on marty, had her flinching awake. her brown eyes opened wide and by some act of grace (or maybe torture on your part) she made eye contact with you and whined. ella reached her hands out for you.

and who were you to deny her?

you ignored the feeling of his eyes on your face, ignored the way his mouth opened in your peripheral vision. instead, you picked up ella and bounced her as she tucked her head under your chin, ignoring the hazel eyes that were locked on your face.

“you're back,” were the first words mat said to you since you left his apartment that night. “how was your trip?”

you fussed over ella in your arms to keep him from seeing how your hands shook around him and vaguely registered that marty had paused the game. “it was fine,” you said. “how long did your family stay in town?”

“they left yesterday, told me to tell you goodbye.”

you nodded, unable to form any other words to keep the conversation going, so you walked towards the kitchen in hopes sydney would follow. she did, thankfully, and soon enough the sound of chel echoed through the downstairs.

“what was that?” sydney whispered. “you haven't seen him in a few days and that’s all you have to say?”

“what did you want me to say? ‘sorry i kissed you and ran away. hope your holiday was fun?’”

sydney sighed through her nose and placed her hands on her hips. “you’re gonna have to talk about it eventually.”

“and i get that, but i don’t want an audience when we talk about it.”

she nodded and looked to the side. “i just hate to see you two like this.”

“like what?”

“like you're strangers.”

a cleared throat kept you from replying, but it did have you turning your head to see mat leaned against the entryway of the kitchen. “i don’t mean to rush you, but i think we need to get ella home so she's in her crib for at least a portion of her nap.”

quickly you nodded and bid goodbye to sydney and, at the door, you smiled at marty as he opened the front door. mat had his hand on your suitcase and was already carrying it outside to his car like it weighed nothing, which it certainly was not light because you had to sit on it with your parents’ obese cat in your lap while your mom zipped it up.

mat loaded your suitcase, you strapped his child in her car seat. he got in the driver’s seat while you slid into shotgun.

and neither of you said a word.

not until you got about five minutes into the drive. it was almost like mat couldn't handle the quiet anymore. “we don’t have to talk about it after this, but i think we should at least acknowledge what happened, right?”

“we don't have to acknowledge it at all, really. it was unprofessional and crossed too many boundaries. i think it’s best if we just forget about it.”

you were too busy staring out the window, watching the buildings pass to see something like hurt flash in mat’s eyes. “why? why do we have to forget it?”

he will get bored of you.

you shook your head and continued to look out the window.

“no, i think i deserve an answer, a reason why you ran out of our apartment on christmas and didn’t say anything.”

“it’s nothing, mat.”

“it’s something if you won't even look at me.” he sighed and adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. judging by the white color of his knuckles, you guessed he'd only tightened his hold. “i just—” he cut himself off with a sigh and rubbed at his jaw with one hand. “do you still want to look after ella? because if you don't, i’ll need some time to find someone else—”

you flinched into the passenger window. “why would you think i wouldn't want to watch her?”

mat shrugged. “i don't know, you don't want to seem to be around me and considering she's my daughter, i just figured.”

“as long as you're okay with it, i’d like to keep nannying. but if you want me to find another place to stay—”

“don't worry about it, it won't be a problem.”

you nodded but didn't say a word for the rest of the ride home. not to worry though, neither did mat.

when you finally got back to the apartment, you grabbed your suitcase while he maneuvered ella out of her car seat and into his arms. neither of you spoke, not even as you went your separate ways as you got into the apartment. you split in the hallway with him going into ella’s nursery and you into your room.

you at least waited to hear the door shut behind you before your shoulders slumped and tears pricked at your eyes.

he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored—

i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time to find someone—

someone else. someone else. someone else. someone else—

a knock on the door startled you enough that you had to cover your mouth to muffle the noise that escaped your lips.

“you okay?” he asked.

you managed to clear your throat and squeak out a “mhm.” you didn't hear any movement, probably mat wondering if he should press the issue, but after a few moments, you could hear feet padding back down the hallway.

you should’ve unpacked, you should’ve cleaned your room from how you left it. you should’ve done a lot of things. but you took a shower where you cried the entire time. then you got in bed and wished you were in your parents’ house so you could smell the slightly burned sugar cookies your mom made and hear your dad’s disgruntled sighs from the living room when his football team didn't play well.

now you were sitting in a cold city that you used to adore, but it felt like the love had evaporated once you were shown how unlovable you were. jason cheated, mat suggested a replacement, maybe that’s all you were. maybe you were just the ikea couch that moved from apartment to apartment only to be replaced with a crate and barrel sofa when the owner got a house.

there was no telling how long time passed before mat knocked again. “tito’s coming over, did you want anything? he’s offering to pick something up.”

you cleared your throat yet again before speaking. “no, no i’m good.”

“you sure? he's getting pizza from borelli’s.”

your stomach growled but you ignored it. “i’m sure, thanks mat.”

the footsteps retreated, leaving you to your thoughts.

it wasn’t long before ella woke up, forcing you to leave your little cave you called a bedroom. she smiled when she saw you, all her four little baby teeth proudly on display. you pulled her out of her sleep sack and changed her diaper, all while her legs and arms were flapping around happily.

“did you have a good nap, ella bean?” she didn't say any intelligible words, mostly just babble, but you smiled anyway. “i bet, baby girl. do you wanna go see dada and uncle tito?”

her deep brown eyes lit up. her eyes were probably the only thing she got from her mom considering she was a carbon copy of mat.

once her diaper was changed, you buttoned her onesie and pulled her little pants back on before you carried her into the living room.

both mat and tito’s eyes lit up when they saw her. almost immediately, ella started kicking her legs and pushing away from you to go to her dad. instead of bringing her straight to mat, you let her down on the floor and watched as she crawled her way to him.

she’d gotten much faster in your absence, even if it was only for a few days. and to your joy, and maybe a little tweak of sadness, she pulled herself up on mat’s knees where he pulled her into his lap.

“how was practice?” you asked.

mat blinked at you. “we didn’t come from practice...”

“i know,” you replied. “but i didn't get to ask you earlier this morning, so i’m asking now.”

tito’s eyes bounce back and forth from you and mat, almost like he’s unsure of what to do.

mat shrugged. “it was fine, just a lot of bag skating.”

and given their performance a few nights ago, that wasn’t completely surprising.

you nodded and walked into the kitchen when the tension became too much. you gripped the cold counter and took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time—

“you okay?”

your eyes shot open and you spun around to see beau standing in the kitchen with a furrow between his brows.

“y-yeah, why?”

he jerked a thumb over his shoulder where mat was playing with ella on the living room floor, or at least you assumed he was, you couldn't see him from where you were standing. “you're joking, right? you seriously don’t know why? it’s been almost three months and i’ve never heard you talk to each other that way.”

“like what?”

“short.” when you said nothing, he continued. “what’s going on?”

“you mean he didn't tell you?”

“tell me what? that you kissed him and ran away and didn't speak to him while you were gone? yeah, he told me that. didn't tell me anything else though.”

beau wasn’t being cruel, you knew that. he was simply narrating what you had done in a matter of fact manner.

so why did it feel like someone was twisting a knife in your chest?

he sighed and placed his hands on his hips. “look, i’m not judging you, i just hate to see you both acting this way.”

“acting like what?”

“strangers. or maybe worse than strangers.”

 “what could be worse than strangers?”

“estranged lovers.”

a scoff left your lips before you could stop it. “one kiss hardly makes us estranged lovers.”

“no but it does make you two act like you don’t know how to be around each other.”

you refused to look at him, choosing instead to study the grain of the marble countertop. “he’s my boss, tito. i shouldn't have done it.”

he fixed you with a look you couldn't quite interpret. maybe it was similar to one sydney gave winnie after she asked her mom a million questions when none of them made sense and had no obvious connection between them. “you're lying to yourself if you think that’s all you are to him, if that’s all he is to you.”

you shrugged your shoulders. “that’s all we can be.”

“says who?”

no one, no one but you. you and that cruel voice in your head that sounds a lot like your ex. “we just can’t.”

“maybe you just need to be proven wrong. allow him to prove you wrong.”

day seventy-seven

“are you still coming to the game tonight?” mat called from his room while you sat in the living room watching ella play with the stacking cups before she got mad and knocked them over.

to say things had returned to normal would be a lie, but you and mat were good at pretending the elephant wasn’t in the room or even in the apartment building. “i’m not sure,” you replied loud enough for him to hear. “ella’s been kinda cranky all day, hasn’t napped well.”

on cue, ella knocked down the cups and screamed bloody murder. you cringed almost immediately. as soon as the scream was over, you could hear mat’s sigh from his bedroom. his voice sounded closer when he spoke again. “you think she’s getting sick?”

you glanced up and saw mat walking through the doorway. in his suit, he still managed to squat next to you. you quickly averted your eyes instead of staring at his thighs. “i don't know, she doesn’t have a fever, she could be teething or it could just be a sleep regression. all three are possible.”

mat leaned in and ruffled the hair on ella’s head. any attitude or frustration she had evaporated the second she saw her dad. she lifted her arms and babbled until he picked her up. he stood up to his full height and placed the back of his hand against her forehead. “does she feel warm to you?

you stood and replaced his hand with yours. you hummed. “maybe a little, but it’s also a little warm in here.”

mat nodded before he kissed the top of ella’s head. “just let me know if you plan on coming.”

“we’ll be there,” you said before you could stop yourself.

if you were a painter, you'd capture the look of mild surprise on mat’s face because it was equal parts endearing and handsome, you couldn't describe it in just words. “really?”

“yeah,” you said, a small smile on your face. “you’ll need your number one fans there.” and even if you doubted your permanence in his life, there was no doubt in your mind where he ranked in yours. “i mean,” you babbled. “aside from your parents and liana.”

mat chuckled a little. “you definitely rank higher than liana. you don't roast me as much as she does.”

“yeah well, she knows more about hockey than i do.”

his eyes looked into yours and you felt the vulnerability of being seen, of being observed through a microscope.

he’ll get bored of you—

“you should know that doesn't matter to me, it’s the fact that you show up.”

“i’ll keep showing up then,” you smiled. “even if i have no idea what’s going on.”

his smile matched your own. “i’ll come home and explain it to you then.”

you probably could’ve stared at him for eternity, his floppy hair and hazel eyes but ella screamed and wriggled around until mat put her back down on the floor, ending whatever moment you thought you were having.

he glanced at his wrist watch and cursed. “i gotta go or i’ll be late, you have the tickets right?”

“they're on my phone, you sent them yesterday.”

he nodded looking at you then ella, then back at you. “i’ll see you later, then. text me if something changes, i’ll check between periods.”

“you really shouldn't—”

“but i’m going to anyway!” he exclaimed before shutting the door behind him.

ella got a kick out of the uber ride to ubs, even from the comfort of her car seat. the driver was kind enough to play gracie’s corner, which was ella’s new musical obsession. she was giddy for once (because she’d been cranky all day) and didn't even protest when you put the headphones on her head as you entered the noisy arena.

you made your way down to the glass where sydney and grace were waiting with their kids. while it wasn’t your first time at a game with ella, it was your first time this close to the ice. mat had sent you tickets because the wags didn't rent a suite out for the game this time. which, in all honesty, was more than fine with you, experiencing a live game close up sounded more than fun.

the boys came out skating at a pace you couldn't dream of replicating. your eyes were as wide as ella’s as you both looked around, stunned.

“you okay?” sydney chuckled. “you look like a deer in headlights.”

you nodded. “they're just...really fast.”

grace and sydney laughed but nodded along with you.

after the initial lap of skating, matt and anders came over to say hi to their kids and wives. matt had a knowing look in his eye and skated away momentarily. maybe you were a little dumb for being surprised when mat, your mat (but not really) came up to the boards grinning ear to ear. 

ella, by an act of god, recognized him even with his helmet on (not that it covered his whole face, but you'd seen videos of babies freaking out when their dads shave so you weren't sure how she would react). she was flapping her arms and squealing, a nice change from the ear piercing scream she’d been giving you all afternoon.

you couldn't really hear what mat was saying, but you saw the happiness in his eyes, the matching grin he shared with his daughter. you didn't even realize you were staring at him until his eyes met yours. he gave you another award winning smile before grabbing a puck and tossing it over for a girl a few seats away from you.

before you realized the time, mat skated away from you so he could finish warming up. that, of course, didn't stop him from looking over in your general direction to look at ella who was enraptured by the entire experience.

the buzzer sounded shortly after and the game started.

ella made it about seventeen minutes into the first period before deciding she’d had enough. smiling apologetically to the other girls, you said, “sorry, the queen has decided it’s time for bed.”

“how're you getting home?” syd asked.

“uber,” you said.

“text us when you get home,” grace said.

you nodded and grabbed your things and placed ella in her car seat before heading up the numerous stairs to the lobby area of the arena. you sent a text to mat after you ordered your uber but before you walked outside, not wanting to stand out in the cold longer than you had to.

you: 

sorry to miss the game! the queen has said she’s had enough. we’re about to get a taxi.

you didn't expect him to reply soon. you managed to get an uber and head back to your shared apartment when you got a text back. 

mat:

call me when you get home.

before you could stop yourself, you furrowed your brows and replied.

you:

what if you’re in the game?

his reply was immediate.

mat:

call anyway, if i have time during the second intermission, i’ll call back. if not, i’ll see you at home.

as if on instinct, you smiled at your phone. you didn't even realize the uber arrived at your apartment building until the driver threw the car in park.

“thank you,” you said as you climbed out of the car and unhooked ella’s car seat.

the first thing you did upon entering the apartment was put ella and her car seat on the floor. the second was pull out your phone and call mat like he asked you to. it rang twice before your heard his voice on the other line.

“you home?”

you blinked. “you actually picked up?

he made a noise that sounded somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “you're surprised?”

“you have a game to focus on.”

“this isn’t a lengthy conversation. i just needed to know that you got home alright.”

“well we’re home. you can stop stressing about us and go win a game instead.”

he cackled through the phone right before he said a quick bye and hung up.

you squatted down to ella’s eye level. she was dozing off in the car seat and you were already not looking forward to the tantrum she’d throw as you tried to get her out and into pajamas. a tired baby barzy was a cranky baby barzy.

just as expected, she started crying and rubbing her eyes when you picked her up. she cried even as you changed her diaper and into her pajamas. she cried through chicka chicka boom boom and the little blue truck which she usually loved. she cried up until the moment you put her in her sleep sack and into her crib.

once she was down, you came back into the living room and started cleaning up to the sound of mat’s game on the television. you still weren't an expert on hockey, but you did at least try to understand what was going on. the important thing was that the isles were winning by a goal.

mat didn't get home until closer to midnight. you were still up, watching carpet cleaning videos on your phone. maybe you should've done something more productive, like cracking open one of the fifty books stacked in piles in your room, but after all the screaming from ella, you just wanted to see a dirty carpet turn white.

“you're still up?” he asked, a slight note of surprise in his voice as he walked through the door.

you shrugged. “was waiting for my hockey debrief.” you watched as he sat his hockey back next to the door and ran a hand down his face. “congrats on the win, by the way.”

he crossed the room and plopped down on the sofa next to you and groaned. “i can’t even think about winning when my body hurts.”

“that’s what happens when you can't stay on your feet for more than half a shift.”

he chuckled a little. “not you too, i get enough shit from the guys.”

“if you want it to stop, you should stop falling down.”

abruptly, mat turned to you. “can you even skate?”

“no, but you can. you even get paid to do so. which is why it’s so surprising that you can’t stay on your feet.” he rolled his eyes but there was a smile on his face. “what?” you smiled back. “what is it?”

“nothing,” he said. “i’m just glad we’re cool again.”

day eighty-nine

you felt like a zombie, simply put. ella was eleven months old and shouldn't be going through a sleep regression, yet she was up on and off all night. you knew that it was because she’d learned a new skill, one you couldn't wait to show mat when he got home.

part of you was nervous that he would be upset that he wasn't there for it. last roadie, he came home to ella cruising along furniture and taking steps while she pushed her walker or held your hands.

it took him two days to come to terms with it.

so you sat on the couch and watched ella play in the ball pit playpen with her stuffed hippo. any other time, you might have cleaned up after her, picking up the balls she’d thrown out (because that was yet another thing she’d learned how to do), but you were doing your best to keep your eyes open.

it was the rattling of the doorknob that had you and ella perking up and looking towards the doorway. you could hear fumbling and what you assumed was mat’s hockey bag dropping to the ground.

despite that, it was still a moment or two before you saw mat walk into the living room with a....iced latte in hand?

you furrowed your brows. “what—”

“dada!” ella screamed, flapping her arm that wasn't holding her hippo, doing her best to scramble to her feet without letting go of her stuffie.

mat nearly dropped everything in his hands, including the coffee, which you were still hung up on, because he drank black coffee, not whatever light colored drink that was in his left hand.

“did she—?” he looked to you, hazel eyes wide as the sun. “did she say—”

“dada dada dada dada,” ella kept babbling, her voice only getting happier the closer he came to her.

“hey sweet girl,” he cooed, bending down and scooping her up with one arm. his voice sounded thick, and when you glanced at his face, his eyes looked a little shiny. “i missed you. did you keep mama bear up all night?”

“how did you know—”

“you replied to my text at 2am. you're usually asleep before midnight.” he said it so casually that you almost didn't clock the deeper meaning behind his words. he didn't even look at you, his gaze solely focused on his daughter. “how long has she been saying dada?” he asked.

you smiled. “yesterday, i got it on video. she likes to watch interviews of you sometimes and when i turned an older one on, she said it. i meant to send it to you after it happened, but i figured you'd wanna hear it in person, and if she didn't say it when you walked in, i’d show you the video later.”

“this was much better, thank you,” he said, finally looking you in the eye. then, like a lightbulb went off over his head, he reached his hand out with the iced coffee. “this is for you, figured you'd want coffee after staying up all night.”

you thanked him and hesitantly, took a sip. pleasantly surprised was a phrase you weren't used to using, especially when it came to your coffee order. there were seldom people in your life who could remember how much sugar, cream, and syrup that you liked in your coffee.

jason never remembered, said it was too complicated.

so when you took a sip and it was the exact flavor profile you'd grown accustomed to, you almost started crying.

“did i get it right?” he asked. “i wrote it down in my phone from a month ago just in case. if it’s wrong, ella and i can go grab another one—”

but your smile cut off any rambling left. “it’s perfect. how was your roadie?”

day ninety-two

mat was gracious enough to lend you his car for the day. he didn't have a game, just a morning skate which meant you didn't have to uber to storytime at the library.

it did mean, however, that you had to go pick him up because tito was busy after practice.

you were anxious initially because you had no idea how you'd get into the practice facility, and you weren’t keen on keeping the car running in this economy. thankfully, right as you were walking towards the building, dobson was walking out. he smiled and said a quiet good morning while he held the door for you and ella.

“barzy’s still on the ice,” he said. “should be finishing up any minute.”

“still? is it a punishment?”

dobson shrugged. “i think he's just trying to tighten up his shot.” he cleared his throat. “do you know how to get to the rink?”

you shrugged. “i'm sure i can figure it out.”

which you did, it was pretty self explanatory, though the signage definitely helped. you walked out to the rink and couldn't help the smile on your face when you saw mat zooming around at a ridiculous speed. mesmerized was the only word you could think to use to describe both you and ella. both your heads followed him around the rink.

which meant you had the perfect view of mat absolutely eating it and slamming into the boards behind the goal.

the laugh that burst from your mouth caught you off guard. given how mat flinched, you would say it caught him off guard too.

but you couldn't help it, the sight of him flailing and slamming into the boards had tears forming in your eyes from the sheer force of your laughter.

“oh my god,” you huffed out between laughs. “you're a professional!” you didn't need to say anymore, he knew what you were implying.

mat stuttered out your name. “y—you’re here?”

“i told you i’d pick you up, mat,” you got out through giggles. you walked closer to the ice, stopping at the gate. he hadn't gotten up off the ice, his legs were spread as he sat there. you couldn't place why, but it was still insanely funny to you. as you kept laughing, ella started too, letting out a loud baby cackle that echoed across the ice.

that seemed to kick mat into gear because he stood up and skated towards the two of you, a dopey smile on his face. you moved ella off your hip and in front of your body, holding her back against your chest so she could fully face mat.

“hey ella bean,” he smiled. he tossed his stick over the boards by the bench and reached for her.

“dada dada dada—” as she kept giggling and babbling, you watched as the smile on mat’s face got wider and wider.

you felt your heart lurch into your throat as mat took her out on the ice and started skating. “are you sure that’s safe?” you called out.

mat’s scoff echoed throughout the rink. “i’m a professional.”

“a professional at ending up on your ass.”

while supporting ella with one arm, mat flipped you off with the other hand as he skated around at a moderate pace. something between a scoff and a laugh burst from your mouth like the fireworks in that one katy perry music video.

mat’s head snapped to look at you, an expression on his face that you couldn't place, you'd never seen it before. he skated back to you, with ella still giggling.

“what?” you asked. “why're you looking at me like that?”

he shrugged. “i just like your laugh, is all. you should do it more.”

feeling shy, you looked down at your nails, you really needed to get a manicure done. “haven’t had much to laugh about lately.” the anxiety you had earlier didn't miraculously disappear after your conversation with beau, but up until this moment, you hadn't realized how quiet your mind had been.

a few weeks ago, it was consumed with jason’s words.

now you couldn't stop thinking about mat.

“well, i’ll gladly bust my ass over and over if you keep laughing like that.”

you couldn't help yourself, another laugh forced its way out of your mouth as you looked at him.

day one hundred and one

deep down in your bones, you could feel the exhaustion from yesterday seeping into today. it was a good exhaustion, though. one caused by brunch with grace, sydney, and alexa, a playdate with sofia and romanov’s daughter, deep cleaning the apartment while ella napped, and a nice walk in the park before mat’s game. 

he got home last night after a short roadie. it was a successful trip, with them winning more than they lost. you knew ella would be happy to see him when he woke up, all she talked about was “dada,” though that just might be the excitement of saying her favorite and only word.

for now, though, it was just you and ella sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast. well, you were eating your cereal, she was spreading avocado around on her high chair. still, she was eating her scrambled eggs, so you couldn't really complain.

the two of you had moved into the living room with ella playing with her hippo and building blocks while you watched the newest episode of abbott elementary.

“is this a new one?” you jumped at the sound of mat’s morning voice and ignored the sensation in your stomach when you saw him rubbing at his eyes, bed head and all. 

“huh?”

mat opened his mouth, but at the sound of her father’s voice, ella turned around and screamed before crawling towards him. he didn't even hesitate to scoop her up and keep her cradled between his left arm and his chest.

“i said,” he started. “is this a new episode? i haven't seen this one yet.”

you blinked. “aren't they all new episodes to you?”

“what do you mean?”

did he hit his head or something? “mat, i've never seen you watch a single episode of anything that wasn't hockey highlights or espn...”

he shrugged. “that's because you're not with me on my roadies.”

it was your turn to ask, “what do you mean?”

mat rounded the couch and plopped down next to you, close enough to not be awkwardly apart but far enough that his leg wasn't touching yours, regardless of how much you wanted him to. “i started watching abbott on the road.”

“why would you do that?”

the tips of his ears turned pink. maybe it was warm in the apartment because the idea that you could cause him to blush wasn't something you were able to comprehend at eight in the morning. “you said you loved the show, i wanted to see what the hype was about.”

“you watched it because i told you about it?” it didn't make sense, no one had ever taken your recommendations seriously enough.

he wouldn't make eye contact with you. “beau kept falling asleep and i was tired of watching film and it popped up and you thought it was good so...”

you smiled to ease the anxiety on his face. “how far did you get?”

“i’m all caught up, except for this episode. i caught up on the roadie.”

“well,” you started. “you’re more than welcome to join us. if you want breakfast, i can pause it and wait.” but you remembered he was a professional hockey player, he probably had somewhere to be. “oh wait, when do you have to be at the rink?”

he checked his phone. “it’s not for a few hours because we got in so late. i’m yours in the meantime.”

you quickly turned your attention back to the screen so he couldn't see the flush on your face.

day one hundred and nine

it was a bad brain day. you couldn't explain it. you woke up and your mood soured. ella only marginally improved it, not even her giggles and smiles, as she stood in her crib babbling as you walked towards her, could fully fix your mood.

there was no rhyme or reason for it either.

well—

that wasn’t completely true.

you'd slept like shit last night. no twenty something should still be having nightmares, god you felt embarrassed just saying the word. but your brain didn't care about shoulds, shouldn’ts, and age because you woke up pouring sweat after jason berated you for what felt like hours.

he’ll get bored of you ringing in your head like church bells on sunday.

it was made worse when, to soothe the anxiety creeping in, you stupidly got on instagram. you should've known better, never in the history of the internet has going on social media improved your mood, especially instagram.

but there you were, staring at the instagram stories of the wags of the isles. pilates, jogs, dinner parties, team events you were too shy to go to. then you went to their feeds, wag jackets and happy families and all the things you wouldn't be a part of. they were rich, had a cool job, a happy nuclear family. and you were what? a nanny? you were a scandal waiting to happen.

he’ll get bored of you turned into it’s just a matter of time until mat finds a replacement. then, because your mind absolutely hated you, it would seem, mat’s own words echoed back to you.

and you knew it was out of context, he’d proven it to you over the last few weeks. but all you could hear was:

i’ll need some time to find someone else.

natalie was jason’s someone else.

who would mat’s be?

which was how you ended up crying into the pan of scrambled eggs. “sorry ella bean,” you managed to get out. “these will be mine, i’ll make you some fresh ones.” you plated the eggs and turned to set them aside on the island behind you, but you weren't expecting mat to be standing there in a white t-shirt and sweats.

no one should look that good in pajamas.

he’ll get bored of you.

“you okay?” and before you could even reply, mat was moving closer. “are you crying? what happened?”

you shook your head. “nothing.”

“it’s not nothing if you're crying into breakfast food.” he was right in front of you now. “c'mon, mama, you can talk to me.”

and you weren't sure why that one word did you in. “that’s not my name,” you huffed out.

“huh?” mat stepped closer and placed his large hands on your arms. “what’re you talking about—”

you stepped back into the counter, trying to get out of his hold. “‘mama’ isn’t my name. i’m not ella’s mom. i’m no one’s mom.”

his brows pulled together, his lips turned down into a frown. “i wasn’t asking you to be her mom, if you want me to find—”

“someone else, right?” you said. “you're just waiting to find someone else? everyone always is.” and it just burst from you. like it had been bubbling for twenty something years and this was the release. “i'm never enough for anyone. was i just a placeholder until she got a real mom? i can be a nanny but nothing more, right?”

“whoa, where is this coming from?” mat cut in, immediately breaking up whatever tirade you were going on. “who’s telling you these things?”

you wanted to scream. “you are! you told me you'd find someone else—”

“—if you didn't want to do this anymore! you weren't talking to me, and didn't seem very interested in doing this,” he gestured to himself and ella, “—at all.” he sighed, like he was calming himself. “i thought we were doing better these last few weeks. what changed?”

you shook your head. “just had a bad night.”

“please,” he begged. “please just tell me the truth.” another moment passed and you didn't say a word, you wouldn't even look at him. “was it jason?” you shifted on your feet. “what did he say?”

for a moment, you thought about shrugging it off, changing the subject. but you were so tired of bottling up all the negative thoughts, the buzzing bees in your head, you just let it all out. “he said you'd get bored of me,” you admitted, feeling a little embarrassed that you were so upset about it. “that i was just a nanny and once you realized you couldn't fuck me, you'd fire me and kick me out.”

you looked up just in time to see mat’s jaw clench. he opened his mouth to say something but shut it just as quickly. ella squawked from her seat so you quickly grabbed her out of her high chair and started bouncing her. she was probably hungry, but she seemed content just being in your arms.

“you know that's not true, right?” he said after a moment, his voice tight.

“i know i should believe you but the buzzing bees in my head, they...” you didn't finish.

“they what?”

“i’m not like them, mat. i don't have what they have.”

“who? you're not like who?”

“the other wags. you're gonna want someone who goes to games and has a car and can function in life without overthinking every little thing and...” 

he was shaking his head, his hazel eyes searching yours, like he was looking for the words to say, but couldn't find them. “who told you that's what i want?”

“everyone wants that, mat. i’m just—” ella started leaning and reaching for the eggs you cried into so you moved them out of reach.

after a moment of quiet, of ella just contentedly bouncing in your arms, mat spoke. “i didn't watch abbott elementary just because you said it was good, i watched it because i wanted you to talk to me,” he said, not looking away from your face once. “i wanted us to be us again and if watching a show i wasn’t familiar with meant i could talk to you, i would do it.”

his eyes darted away for a moment, a blush covering his face. but he pushed on anyway. “it turned out to be a really funny show so it wasn't like a burden or anything but i would’ve watched it even if it was garbage because it was something that you liked.”

“mat—”

“no, please let me finish.” he took in a deep breath and looked you dead in the eye. “i would've watched the scott’s tots episode of the office on repeat if you told me that's what you wanted to do.”

mat took a step closer to you, just a foot between you now. “beau said you didn’t believe that i could want you, sydney said it was because of something your piece of shit ex said. so i’ve spent the last few weeks trying to prove to you that i love you, that i love you right now, just like this. even with the million buzzing bees in your head telling you i can’t, i’m telling you i can and i do.”

the buzzing in your head stopped. you couldn't hear anything but—

i love you right now, just like this.

“there is no ‘someone else.’ there’s no one else i could want because you're here.”

“you're not gonna get bored of me?” you asked, kinda hating how weak your voice sounded, but not enough to be embarrassed about it. not when mat was standing so close to you, not when he was saying the things he was saying.

he smiled and shook his head. “i'm not gonna get bored of you.”

“even if i feel like a thursday in october?”

he blinked. “i don't know what that means, but yeah. even if you feel like a thursday in october.”

there was a part of you who wanted to believe him, who wanted to kiss him, but you still hesitated.

you hesitated until you thought about how mat called you every night on his first roadie away from ella, how he admitted that he missed her and kept waking up in the middle of the night expecting her to be down the hall, but how he felt safe knowing that she was with you. you thought about how he waited for you to call when you got into your apartment and immediately helped you move out when you found jason and natalie in bed together. you thought about how his family loved you, gave you christmas presents. you thought about the kiss, you thought about how he called matt when you left the apartment, how he asked if you had a jacket, how you were getting to the airport.

you hesitated until you realized he stole all the oxygen from your lungs. how you knew nothing about hockey prior to him and now it felt like your entire life. you thought about the family skate he'd invited you to in a month and how you dreamt of holding his hand in front of everyone. you thought about how nice it would be to wear his name on your back and know that he was yours at the end of the night.

you hesitated until you knew all the girls from his past, all the boys from yours, had led you both to this moment, standing in his kitchen in your pajamas with his child in your arms while he bared his heart to you.

“you promise just as i am right now?”

he nodded. “i promise, baby, i love you yesterday, right now, and tomorrow.”

you smiled, your heart racing, but your mind was quiet, quiet except for four words. “i love you, mat.”

“oh thank god,” he muttered before placing his hands on your cheeks and pulling your lips to his. he kissed you first, but you chased his lips when he tried to pull away.

it was only the need for air and ella’s screaming that pulled you two away from each other. “are you hungry, baby?” you asked.

“did mama not feed you fast enough?” mat teased, grabbing her from you and tossing her in the air a few times to get her laughing.

“mat,” you groaned.

“it’s okay though,” he said looking you dead in the eye, the widest smile you'd seen on his face. ella looked at you too, both of their faces scrunched up in that way you loved. “we love you anyway.”

mat barzal. nearly everyone in new york was obsessed with him, you knew him by the way he kissed you in the morning, when he got home from practice, before you went to bed. you knew him as the man who scooped his daughter up and tickled her just to hear her laugh. you knew him by the strong arms that would wrap around your waist.

you knew him by the way he loved you.

one hundred and nine days later, you loved him.

[scarletwinterxx]

unconditional - jeong jaehyun imagine

hellloooo~ before i go back to being an absolute mess, here's a scenario for our valentine boy. i miss him already😭🥺😭🥺

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

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

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

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

Three rings.

It took three rings before you answered the call. It was late so he thought you might be asleep, but he knows you always sleep late so he gave it a try. Just before he was about to hang up he hears your voice from the other line

"What?"

"Not even a hello?" Jaehyun chuckles

"What do you need, Jae? Aren't you rehearsing right now?"

A few hours ago he sent you a text while he was at the practice room, complaining about how he wanted to go home already but he still had a lot of songs to rehearse. It's now past midnight and he just got back home and the first thing he did was call you.

"Nah, I'm back home. I need to wake up early though. I'm going to dye my hair for the fanmeet"

"What is it with you guys and dyeing your hair before enlistment?" you teasingly ask him, referring to your older brother who did the same before shaving his head full of damaged hair just a few months ago. "Are you gonna go bald too?" you ask with a laugh

"Yea no, Jungwoo's not going anywhere near me with a pair of scissors"

"Aw, I was looking forward to that"

"May I remind you how you cried when you saw Taeyong hyung after shaving his head" he reminds you, recalling that emotional night.

The two of you met through your brother, his leader, Taeyong. Through the years you and Jaehyun grew close since you're the same age and used to attend the same school. What he likes most about being friends with you is how you treat him like a normal guy, not some famous boy group member.

To you, he's just Jaehyun.

As for Taeyong, he knows there's something more but he doesn't say anything about it to you. He'll let you figure it out on your own. He already had that talk with his member and even though Jaehyun may be his bestfriend, when it comes to you it's a different conversation. Though Taeyong already knows that Jaehyun's priority is very similar to his, your safety and privacy. Your brother knows you're in safe hands.

"So why did you call again?" you ask your bestfriend

"What's your favorite hair color that I did?"

"Huh? You called just to ask me that? I dunno, blonde? Like your hair during Perfume promotion? Ooooh but pink suites you too"

He listens to you list down all the colors, waiting for you to finally pick one. He lays down on his bed, staring at the canopy above while your voice fills his ears

"Okay I think it's blonde" you say with finality like it's such a serious discussion

"Are you looking at pictures of me?" he asks, a teasing hint in his voice

"I need reference, just to be sure. Why are you asking me anyways?"

"Nothing, just curious. Anyways, I got the tickets for you for the fanmeet"

"Oh shit, didn't I tell you I can't come? I have this thing I can't miss"

Jaehyun immediately sits up on his bed, mood already deflating. It's the last time he'll perform before his enlistment and he was hoping you'd be there. You're always there to watch the group and even the individual members' concerts, in a way you try to show your support while your brother is away.

"Really? You can't reschedule the other thing or maybe come the second day?" he asks, voice still hopeful

"I'll ask my supervisor, no promises though. Sorry, this was scheduled since last month"

"No, don't worry about it. Guess I'll just see you after? I still have your gift from Paris"

"You didn't need to get me anything, I told you! Anyways I need to go, talk to you tomorrow" you hang up the call before he can say anything else.

There's really no other agenda, you weren't about to miss your bestfriend's first solo event. You were going to be there no matter what, rain or shine. You just wanted to surprise him.

The two of you still messaged back and forth before the event, until the morning of the fanmeet Jaehyun was hoping for a change of plan from you but it's been hours since he last heard from you.

"The fans are coming in now, you're going on in less than an hour" his manager tells him "Some of the members are here too, just waiting for the others"

"Okay"

He scrolls through his phone, singing quietly to himself while he waits. People are going in and out of the dressing room so he didn't pay much attention to whose coming in through the doors, little did he know one of the staff member was guiding out just outside the door while you hold a big bouquet of flowers.

"Did I overdo it?" you ask his manager, earning a chuckle from them "I think he'll like it" he tells you

"He better, I spent a good amount of money for these. He's in there right?"

"Mhm, he's alone now. You can go in, maybe he'll stop moping around"

You thank staff for helping you before stepping in his dressing room, he's sitting on the couch with his back to you so he still hasn't seen you.

"Heard you were moping around, maybe this will cheer you up"

Jaehyun turns his head so fast, almost gave himself a whiplash. Checking to see if he heard that right, if it was really you. And there you are, standing a few feet from him with the biggest bouquet of flowers

"Thought you were busy today?" was all he can say.

He really thought you weren't coming today, he was feeling really down despite looking forward to this event for weeks. He just really wanted to share this day with you and now you're here.

"I was lying, forgive me but I wanted to surprise you so you can't be mad at me" you tell him, walking over to where he was. He stands up from his seat to meet you in the middle, you give him the flowers smiling so big your cheeks hurt.

"You really think I was going to miss this? How little did you think of me?" you tease him, there you notice his blonde hair recalling your conversation from a few nights ago "You look cute, I like your hair"

He still hasn't said anything, just looking at you like he can't believe you're here

"Yah, what's with you? You okay?" you ask

Instead of saying anything, he pulls you in for a hug. One arm around your waist while the other holds the flowers you got for him.

"Thank you for coming" he whispers against your hair. You smile at his words, you throw your arms around his shoulder to give him a proper hug "Wouldn't miss it for the world. Are you going to sing my song though?" you jokingly ask as you break from the hug

He looks down at you, now mirroring the smile you had. His previously somber mood making a complete turn for the better now that you're here.

"Which one?" he teases back, even though you think he's only joking there's truth to his words. His songs is his way of confessing his feelings to you. It's not as easy to say the words outright but when he sings them, it's much much easier.

He remembers how much you liked it when he made a cover of 'Like Me Better', that was one of those rare moments he's seen you fangirl over him. When he found out one of your favorite movie moments ever was the one from 10 Things I Hate About You, the scene where Heath sings for Julia, he decided to do a cover of that two. The smile you had on when you first heard his voice singing it is forever etched in his mind.

From then on, you've been referring to it as 'your song'. He performed it too during his birthday event, you were there in the crowd of course wearing a disguise but he didn't forget to throw a smile your way as if to let you know that that song is indeed for you and only you.

"Wait and find out, I'm not gonna spoil it to you"

"So you are singing it" you grin at him, already getting excited

"I'm singing my songs too, aren't you excited for that"

"I am, shut up" you give him a punch on the shoulder, "Oh and Taeyong oppa said goodluck" you add, walking to where he was sitting before. He puts the flower down, following you on the couch while the two of you wait for his manager to call him on stage

"Are you gonna cry tonight? Promise I won't make fun of you... a lot"

He knows you would, like he knows how you would probably take a video if ever do cry. "If I cry, then you'll cry too"

"I'm a sympathetic crier, sue me"

"Your brother will kill me if I make you cry so you better not, oh now that you're here" he takes a paper bag from his stuff, passing it over to you

"Ooo goodies from Paris, is it a keychain? fridge magnet? Wait what the hell, Jaehyun?! This is expensive" you say as you open the cartier box

"Early Christmas gift" he shrugs

"You said that was the Prada bag you got me last time you were in L.A"

"That was your birthday present"

"I can't accept this, Jae. This is too much" you tell him but he's already taking the love bracelet out of the box along with the little screwdriver to put it on for you

"Add it to your stack, it will look good" he mumbles, his focus on putting the bracelet on your wrist

"You gave these too! You're spoiling me too much" you laugh, watching him struggle a bit

"Good, so now other guys won't impress you that easy while I'm gone" he mumbles, finally the bracelet locks on your wrist. He looks up at you, sending you smile then lets go of your hand. You shoot him a look, as if asking him what he meant but he choose to ignore you.

"Hey, we need you out there now. Let's go" his managers peeks his head inside, calling for Jaehyun.

He stands up, you follow behind him but before he steps out the door you hold him by the arm "We're going to talk" you tell him

"About what?" he asks, blinking back at you

"You're insufferable, you know that"

He chuckles at your statement, taking the hand that was holding his arm to hold it in his instead. Intertwining his fingers with yours. You look down at your linked hands, it should feel weird. He's your bestfriend for goodness sake. But instead it feels right, like your hands were molded to fit together.

Hoping he doesn't notice your cheeks getting warm, you keep a straight face while looking up at him.

"Told you, my songs are about you. Didn't you hear the part I said I've been crushing on you but I've just been keeping it to myself"

"How was I suppose to know that was about me?!"

"Who else would it be about?" he asks back, still smiling at you. His dimples on full display

"My answer is always you" he teases. Another song lyric, you know that one too. Rolling your eyes at his comment, you give his side a pinch using your free hand

"Jaehyun we need you backstage!" the two of hear his manager shout from outside

"You have so much explaining to do, Jeong Jaehyun" you tell him, letting go of his hand to push him out the door but he don't budge.

He smiles at you again before swooping down to give you a kiss on the corner of your mouth, catching you totally of guard.

"I'll tell you everything there is to know, later. For now I got a show to do. Gonna make sure my girl won't take her eyes off me" he winks then he opens the door, leaving of behind in utter shock.

You walk out the dressing room, watching Jaehyun's back as he makes his way to the stage. Before he turns to the corners, he looks back at where you're standing sending you a quick smile and a salute. You smile back at him, waving your hand to send him off.