#and for this one i love the contrast almost argument of

[gayofthefae]

Mike and Will - "Double Feature" from evermore by Taylor Swift, Both POVs (7m 46s)

@best-thing-at-this-party @imatotallynormalteengirlok @your-local-bi-guy @throne-of-crows

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Good Morning, World.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[with-my-calamitous-love]

burnt toast, sunday / i wanna teach you how forever feels

katsuki bakugou x reader

the morning after a fight with katsuki. for the yail series ❄️

inspired by all of the girls you loved before

bakugou sat up, groaning a bit as his back ached. he looks around, hit with his surroundings. he slept on the couch, in the midst of the living room torn apart from arguing.

he knew you were probably still pissed at him. worst of all, he couldn't even fully recall why you two had been arguing the night before. he only remembered that it was really, really bad, and you had ended up locking him out of the bedroom. just the thought of not sleeping next to you hurt blonde’s chest.

he lets out a sigh as he got up from the couch and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. when he sits up, he sees you walk in.

he cringes slightly, seeing your puffy red eyes. you had been crying all night, probably.

“…hey.” you say, softly.

he grunts in response, his words unable to reach his throat.

its a sunday, a quiet morning to contrast a loud, abrasive saturday night. the two of you resolve to make coffee silently, only speaking when you need a spoon he’s standing next to or when he needs you to move so he can grab the sugar.

the silence felt incredibly awkward. the two of you just stood there, quietly making your own cups of coffee. the only noise in the room was the sound of the coffeemaker brewing. bakugou’s thoughts were a mess. he couldn’t believe the two of you had gotten in such a big fight, and he wasn't even entirely sure why it happened. but he knew he was probably at fault, he was the one with the explosive personality after all.

he curses at himself quietly when he realizes he grabbed two pieces of bread. he does that normally- one for you, and one for him. but right now, you’re pissed at each other. he’s a little worried that making two pieces of toast will be seen as a violent act of aggression.

he moves to grab plates, too absent minded to notice that the toast is now burning. you take it out for him. thats when he noticed you’re still wearing his shirt, even though you’re mad.

he picks up his phone and scrolls, trying to distract himself. thats when he remembers what the fight was about.

whoever it was that got ahold of katsuki bakugou’s dating history was really obsessed or really, really bored, maybe both. for whatever reason, his fans were now talking about all his previous partners, the good and the bad. and, because you’re dating a celebrity, they just have to question your worthiness to be dating the handsome and strong dynamight.

he feels his anger flare up as he doom-scrolls some more. it pisses him off, thinking about how people would so mindlessly say things. it pisses him off more that its getting to you. don’t you know that he loves you?

he has yet to do anything about it, to address his dating life and who he’s with now. truthfully, katsuki doesn’t feel like he should have to. his pr team already works overtime for his asshole-self, anyway.

he’s so distracted by his own thoughts, he fails to notice the way his elbow knocks over your mug, sending it shattering on the floor. maybe its the silence, but you honestly jump a little when it happens.

both you simply stand there at first, blinking. did he do that on purpose? no, he wouldn’t break his own mugs.

maybe he just wanted your attention.

nonetheless, you wave it off with a soft “its okay” before kneeling down and carefully cleaning up the shards. he’s silent as he gets down in front of you, helping you clean the mess he made.

he wants to tell you its okay, and that he’ll take care of it. he wants to tell you that he’s sorry and that he loves you. but this is the closest he’s physically been to you since the argument, and he wants to relish in it for a moment.

“are you still mad at me?”

he almost flinches when he hears your meek voice. why would he be mad at you?

“..what are you talking about, babe?” he sighs, his voice gruff.

he is mad, but not at you. mostly at himself for not seeing how the recent speculations about him had been bothering you.

“i don’t wanna repeat myself. i just… i don’t know. i know you don’t want me to care about what everyone else is saying, but, i do.” you admit, still on the floor in front of him. at this point, you’ve both forgotten about the coffee and the shards.

he can see how upset you are, and it makes his chest tighten. “yeah, well… i don’t want those shitty extras getting to you. even if what they’re saying is the farthest thing from the damn truth.”

he so desperately wants you to know that he loves you. that when he’s with you, he doesn’t think of all the times he woke up to someone else, feeling alone. he doesn’t think of late night arguments that left him feel empty. when he looks into your eyes, he’s reminded of everything he wants to protect.

but you don’t see that as clearly as he does. “i guess i just… wonder if you agree with them. you never say anything to address those rumours, about your exes. and its not your fault, i get you don’t want to get involved, but, still…”

bakugou’s heart twinges as you bring up those accusations. he hates that you wonder such things, that you wonder if he agrees with those rumours or not. he wants to reassure you that you are the one he loves, the only one he loves. but he knows you wouldn't believe him right now, especially since he's been acting so shitty towards you lately.

“damn it, dumbass, i just want you to know that i love you. not any of those other bitches.”

“i don’t like when you call them that, katsuki.” you correct him. he nods, though both of you should be used to his sailor tongue by now.

“they’re people you’ve loved before… and thats okay. sometimes i just wonder if you love me more. i know its stupid.” you sigh.

he finally gets the courage to hold your hand, his calluses gentle against your skin. “..i feel i shouldn’t have to say it, i guess. in my head, you’re the only damn person in the world who matters.”

“maybe i’m just insecure.” you chuckle, self deprecatingly. you’re both tired of the arguing, now. “you’re #1, you’re gorgeous… and i’m me.”

he looks at you like you’re a complete idiot for that.

he hated hearing you say those things about yourself like it was a bad thing, that you were just you.

“just you? you really think it’s a bad thing to be you, dumbass?”

he pulls you in tighter, wanting you to really hear what he says.

“you’re amazing, you're incredible. there’s no one else I want to be with. I don't want anyone else, just you. you’re way too good for me, [y/n], in more ways i can count.”

“…you really mean that?”

he scoffs, a beautiful smile on his face. “yeah, i mean it. i love you.”

you give him that smile he loves, the one that made him fall so deeply in love with you all those years ago. “thats all you had to say, kats.”

your past and his are parallel lines. he isn’t sure how he got so lucky. how, by some cosmic miracle, the starts aligned so he could intertwine with you. you’re all he needs.

he hugs you deep, burying his face into your neck. he loves how you smell, how smooth your skin is. theres bot much proof, but he sees enough in you. he feels enough when he holds you, his entire world in his arms.

“i’m sorry.” he says, quietly for only you to hear. “you’re everything to me. i’m in love with you.”

your heart swells, ignoring the burnt toast and spilled coffee. you’re wearing his shirt, and he’s keeping his word. thats enough to make you melt, hugging him back, arms thrown around his muscular back. “i’m sorry too. i shouldn’t have doubted you. i love you too.”

he pulls back slightly to kiss you, making sure you’re in front of him and that this is real. for once, he let’s go of all of his fears and his ghosts. you’re his best friend, the love of his life and every beautiful thing he loves. he hears it in the silence, on his way home, and in your voice.

“if anything, i think i’m grateful for everyone you’ve loved before.” you chuckle, face close to his. his blonde eyebrows knit in confusion. “what do you mean, babe?”

“because the people you love make who you are, even if you’ve only loved them for a moment.” you say, squeezing his hand. “all those dead-end streets led you to me.”

he pauses, strange look on his face when he realizes you’re right. all that fake love, the teenage heartbreak and pains he’s been through- it’s made him the man you love. all those breakups, those unsaid goodbyes, they’ve led him hear.

he huffs, and then smiles, pressing his forehead to yours.

“i wouldn’t change a damn thing, then.” he says. “it all led me to you, dumbass.”

you stroke his cheek affectionately, pressing a kiss to his temple. his eyes close when you do that, relaxing into your touch. everyone that he knew brought him hear. and now, he gets to know what forever feels like.

“and in the end, it doesn’t matter who loved you before.” you conclude. “cause i love you more.”

he almost laughs at how cliché it is, resigning to press kisses all over your face. “i love you more, i’m not arguing on that.” he says, holding you in his lap. he’s tough, and explosive, and “too good for all that clingy couple bullshit”. at least, thats what he lets the world believe.

you’re his, and he’s yours. he’s so god damn thankful for everyone you’ve loved before. ‘cause now he gets to love you 10x more.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Throw A Tantrum

Mafia Boss!Lizzie Olsen x fem!reader

Summary: Lizzie won't stop asking you to marry her, it's become a game between you two now, but when Lizzie doesn't handle a situation right you blow off and go on a little shopping trip with her card

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: Lizzie and you have an argument

A/N: This is based off of this post

You always knew there was something different about Lizzie. Growing up together in the quiet suburbs, she always had this aura of command around her, even as kids. But you never imagined that one day she would become the head of the mafia, and you certainly didn't expect her to want to marry you.

Living with Lizzie in her sprawling, luxurious penthouse was an experience in itself. The place was a stark contrast to your childhood homes, filled with top-of-the-line furnishings and an almost intimidating level of sophistication. But despite the opulence, there were small touches that made it feel like home—photos of the two of you over the years, your favorite books on the shelves, and the cozy blanket you always curled up with draped over the back of the couch.

One evening, you were curled up on that very couch, reading a book, when Lizzie strolled into the living room. She leaned against the doorframe, her presence both comforting and intimidating, a paradox you had come to accept.

"Marry me," Lizzie said, for the hundredth time, her tone half-serious, half-teasing. Her dark green eyes sparkled with mischief as she looked at you.

"No," you replied with a smirk, not even looking up from your book. It was a ritual between you two by now, a game you both enjoyed. Despite your refusals, Lizzie never stopped asking, and you never stopped saying no, but it was all part of the dance you two shared.

"You know," Lizzie began, walking over to sit next to you on the couch, "you'd make a perfect mafia queen. You've got the attitude for it."

"And you have the persistence of a stalker," you shot back, finally meeting her gaze. Her eyes softened, a look that made your heart race.

"I just know what I want," Lizzie said, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "And I always get what I want."

You rolled your eyes, though the fluttering in your chest was hard to ignore. "You can't just go around deciding people's lives for them, Lizzie."

"Maybe not everyone," she conceded, a sly smile playing on her lips, "but you? You're different."

"Different how?" you challenged, leaning in slightly.

"Different as in, you're already my wife in every way that matters," she said softly, her fingers grazing your cheek. "I spoil you, protect you, and love you more than anything in this world."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words. Despite your playful refusals, you were deeply in love with Lizzie. You just couldn't admit it out loud, not when her life was filled with danger and uncertainty. But every touch, every glance she gave you made it harder to resist her.

"You're delusional," you teased, trying to keep the mood light, but your voice betrayed your true feelings.

"Maybe," she whispered, her lips now inches from yours, "but I wouldn't have it any other way."

Before you could respond, she closed the gap, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both gentle and demanding. It was a kiss that spoke of years of friendship, unspoken feelings, and a future you were too scared to embrace.

When she finally pulled away, you were breathless, your resolve crumbling.

"One day," Lizzie murmured, her forehead resting against yours, "you'll say yes."

"Maybe," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But until then, enjoy the chase."

Lizzie chuckled, pulling you into her arms. "Oh, I am, darling. I am."

And as you nestled into her embrace, surrounded by the familiarity of your shared home, you knew that no matter how much you teased or resisted, Lizzie would always be there, loving you in her own fierce, unwavering way.

================

Lizzie's penthouse had five bedrooms, each more lavish than the last. Yet, from the moment you moved in, Lizzie had insisted that you share her bedroom. "For your protection," she'd said, her tone brooking no argument. You had reluctantly agreed, knowing that her insistence came from a place of love and concern.

One night, after a particularly trying day, you found yourself lying in bed with Lizzie. The room was dimly lit, casting a warm glow over the plush bedding and elegant décor. Lizzie's arms were wrapped around you, her hands roaming over your back in a soothing, familiar pattern. Her lips found yours, and you melted into the kiss, feeling a mixture of love and frustration.

You loved these moments and hated them all in one breath. The intimacy, the warmth of her touch, the way she made you feel safe and cherished—it was intoxicating. But it also made you painfully aware of how much you wanted to submit, to be hers completely. And that terrified you.

Lizzie's kisses grew more passionate, her hands exploring with a hunger that mirrored your own. You responded eagerly, your fingers tangling in her hair as you deepened the kiss. Yet, in the back of your mind, a voice whispered that you couldn't allow yourself to fully give in. Not when her life was filled with danger and uncertainty.

When she finally pulled away, her eyes searched yours, as if seeking answers to unspoken questions. "What are you thinking?" she asked softly, her breath warm against your skin.

You hesitated, struggling to find the words. "I... I love you, Lizzie. You know that. But I can't—"

"Shh," she murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You don't have to explain. I understand."

And she did. Lizzie knew your fears, your doubts, and the reasons behind your resistance. She respected them, even if it meant enduring the ache of unfulfilled longing.

"I just want you to know that I'm here," Lizzie whispered, her fingers brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. "Whenever you're ready, I'll be here."

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. Nestling closer to her, you allowed yourself to bask in the comfort of her embrace, even if just for a little while longer.

=================

It started out as a minor disagreement, something trivial about the way Lizzie handled a situation with one of her lieutenants. But, as things often did with the two of you, it quickly escalated.

“You never listen to me, Lizzie!” you shouted, frustration boiling over. “You just do whatever you want, without considering how it affects others!”

Lizzie’s eyes narrowed, her calm demeanor cracking just a bit. “I always listen to you. But sometimes, there are things you don’t understand about my world.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” you retorted. “It’s your world, not ours. You always have to be in control.”

The argument continued to spiral until you stormed out, grabbing your keys and slamming the door behind you. You needed space, a chance to cool down and clear your head. And maybe, just maybe, a little bit of retail therapy.

Hours passed, and you found yourself at the most luxurious boutiques in the city. Every swipe of your card felt like a small act of rebellion, a way to assert some control in a situation where you often felt powerless. Designer clothes, expensive jewelry, anything and everything caught your eye.

Meanwhile, back at home, Lizzie was dealing with the aftermath of your fight. She knew she had pushed too hard, but her pride wouldn’t let her admit it. That is, until her phone rang.

“Miss Olsen,” the bank manager’s voice was cautious. “There’s been an unusual amount of spending on one of your accounts. We wanted to verify—”

“It’s fine,” Lizzie interrupted, a wry smile on her lips as she realized what you were doing. “Just my future wife throwing a tantrum.”

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a tentative, “Understood, Miss Olsen. Should we impose any limits?”

“No,” Lizzie said firmly. “Let her buy whatever she wants. She’ll come home eventually.”

And she was right. Laden with shopping bags and feeling a mix of satisfaction and guilt, you finally returned. Lizzie was waiting, her expression a blend of amusement and exasperation.

“Had fun?” she asked, eyeing the mountain of bags you set down.

“Immensely,” you replied, though your tone was softer now, the anger having dissipated.

Lizzie stepped closer, taking your hands in hers. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I do listen to you, and I do care about what you think. Sometimes I just get… carried away.”

You sighed, leaning into her touch. “I know. And I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have stormed out like that.”

Lizzie pulled you into a hug, her arms wrapping around you tightly. “It’s okay. Just promise me you won’t run off and bankrupt me every time we argue.”

You laughed, the sound muffled against her shoulder. “Deal. But only if you promise to actually listen.”

“Deal,” she echoed, pulling back to look into your eyes. “Now, let’s go through these bags and see what my future wife bought.”

As you sat together, sorting through your extravagant purchases, you took a deep breath and decided to take the plunge. "Lizzie," you started, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

"Yes?" she looked up, her eyes full of curiosity and a hint of apprehension.

"Ask me again," you said softly.

Her brows furrowed for a moment before realization dawned on her face. A slow smile spread across her lips as she took your hands in hers once more. "Will you marry me?"

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Yes, Lizzie. I'll marry you."

Lizzie pulled you into a kiss, her arms tightening around you as if she never wanted to let go. And in that moment, surrounded by shopping bags and the remnants of a heated argument, you knew you had made the right decision. No matter the ups and downs, you were ready to face them together, as partners, as lovers, and now, as fiancées.

[endataraxia]

frustration and anger.

creepypasta/mh x reader in which they get frustrated or angry, or, in BEN's case, are frustrating themselves. word count: 2.1k cw: abuse, descriptions of anger, arguments/quarrelling.

EJ

EJ doesn’t often get angry.

in fact, it’s hard to even frustrate him. Even when faced with particularly difficult patients to suture up—ahem, Jeff— he shows no sign of being fazed.

well, perhaps that’s because he’s used to living with Jeff and his reckless, barbaric antics.

but when he does get frustrated, it’s like a gradual intensification.

you like to split his frustration into three phases.

phase 1: EJ starts to seem a little off. Quieter than usual, less responsive, and more distant. Almost as if he’s in his own world, deceptively peaceful.

phase 2: EJ starts to show actual signs of being frustrated. You notice that it is at this point he may start to snap lightly at others, but with you, he tries his best to keep it to a minimum.

phase 3 is the climax before the drop. On occasion, he may raise his voice slightly and openly express irritation. But he always drops, hard and fast.

“I am so sorry, Y/N, I am so sorry,” he whispers, rubbing circles gently on your back. Though he has to bend over quite a bit (he’s a gentle giant at a height of 6’6 or about 2 meters), you find it to be very soothing that his frame envelops the entirety of yours.

oh, but that doesn’t mean he’s incapable of getting angry.

no, the anger you heard in his voice was undeniable as he roared at another member of the household to stay the fuck away from you.

you’d startled at the sheer sound of it, and quickly those trembles descended into violent shaking as you cried—his roar was simply not…human.

you flinched as he picked you up, just as gently as was the anger intense in that dreaded noise he made, a stark contrast in behavior, a jarring change in your body, mind and soul.

but other than that, you knew your darling EJ was back.

he plopped you onto his bed, surrounded by his sweet yet musky scent, nuzzling your neck and your face.

“I’m sorry”s were whispered countless times in your ear that night as you dozed off in the safety of his arms.

jeff

gotta put a trigger warning on this one. you know what to expect, but just in case you don’t, TW: Jeff is literally a murderer with abusive tendencies and anger issues.

at the start of your relationship, Jeff had been…well, to say the least, not the best partner.

he often got mad at you, whether it be keeping him waiting or spilling a cup of water.

yeah. spilling a cup of water.

but you understood why he was the way he was. he just couldn’t help it. but that didn’t mean you were going to stick around for it, no matter how much you loved him.

one day after a particularly huge argument, you found him crying in his room. his sniffles were unmistakable, but you knew you’d have to pretend you hadn’t heard from ten feet away.

turns out, angsty little Jeff here wasn’t completely unaware of himself.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he had sobbed as quietly as he could. “I know I’m a bad boyfriend, I know, I keep lashing out at you and I’m so sorry.”

your relationship could have very well ended that day if you hadn’t found Jeff crying on the floor.

but even though he’d hurt you so many times, you took him back into your arms.

and so you taught him to manage his anger, though it took you immense effort, energy and bravery.

he’d always help, though, by reminding you it was okay to yell back at him. you chided him lightly for it, saying that it’d just cause a back and forth.

“oh, right. my bad. sorry, doll,” he had said with a sheepish grin.

today, you are proud to boast that you trained your bloodhound boyfriend to be a tame dog. hell, he even does whatever you tell him to now, albeit sometimes reluctantly.

but he understands that if he loves you, he must make sacrifices upon sacrifices. you did that for him.

now it is his turn to sacrifice himself for you.

masky - tim

it’s not really uncommon that Tim gets angry.

but his anger is almost always the quiet kind.

he will “hmph” and huff lightly, a mild kind of anger you both can still joke about, though his face will redden at it.

you can’t help it though, the sass he gives you when he’s lightly frustrated is too good to let slip past.

oh, but when his anger gets loud—

it’s no longer a harmless little nip.

it’s been directed everywhere. everywhere, his teammates, the table, the card game he’s losing a bit too embarrassingly to Toby who’s being an unbearable little ass about it.

but never you.

okay, it was one time.

but Tim decided it was one time too many. (as he should)

he’d raised his voice at you, more so out of frustration rather than anger.

and you flinched.

and oh, how that little flinch broke his heart.

he shut up immediately, gathering you into his arms, whispering “oh, I’m so sorry, darling”, and “you’re okay, you’re okay”.

he never did it again. ever.

now, when you both get angry at each other, it always devolves into stupid little giggles and kicking.

hoodie - brian

Brian doesn’t really get angry, nor does he get frustrated.

normally, at least.

something shines in his eyes when he is defied, a shadow of a grin, a curl of the lip—

you spend a couple days investigating this, defying him little by little.

“Y/N, could you pass me the water?” “No.” and you’d say it with a cheeky smile on your face to match this strange expression on his.

it evolved into much greater things, “Y/N, come over here for a bit.” “Nope!”

“Y/N, help me up.” “Nope!”

your gleeful defiance doesn’t have a complete zero effect, either. with each silly little “nope”, the glint in his eyes grows brighter. and you know that the cup you’ve slowly been filling the past few days is about to overflow.

it’s one fateful day that you happily defy him once again, and—

oh. something’s grabbing at your jaw, and your lover’s face is so close to yours.

he smiles so gently at you, so purely. but his grip on your jaw says otherwise.

firm like iron, reprimanding, but not harmful or venomous. you know he isn’t going to hurt you, but oh, he isn’t letting you go either.

“Y/N,” he says calmly. “You’ve been a little more uncooperative than usual.”

the shiver it sends down your spine isn’t one of fear. excitement, rather.

he lets you go, but guides you to the bed. “Sit,” he commands.

so you do. what else are you to do when your lover commands you so well?

“Good girl.”

so you never say no to him again, not when it comes to harmless favors.

Brian does not get angry or frustrated…at least, not like the normal person does.

toby

Toby becomes a very bitter cynic when upset, spitting sarcasm wherever he goes.

his BPD only makes it worse. his relationship with Tim is already strained as it is, with the latter trying his best (as much as a man with anger issues can), and his relationship with Brian being almost entirely carried by the older man.

and his relationship with you, oh his sweet vogel, his darling dove— he doesn’t know what to think of it. some days he lets loose around you, tickling you and blowing raspberries against your cheeks, and others he’s withdrawn, curled up into a ball in his bed, and so you dive in with him, nuzzling him against his sheets long overdue for a change.

but if it’s neither of those, he’s lashing out. sometimes you can’t even look at him when he walks into the room bringing dark clouds over the atmosphere. that’s when you know you can’t look up at him.

and when you make the mistake of looking up, your smile meets a scowl.

“what are you looking at.” he’ll spit, and then storm off, as if he can’t stand your eyes on him.

and it’s true, your eyes gaze at him with such gentleness, he can’t bring himself to stare back sometimes. especially when he’s in a bad mood, because he breaks inside as he sees his own eyes burn the love in your eyes, reducing them to ashes of fear.

“vogel,” he’d whisper at night, lying next to you in your bed. “i’m sorry.”

he apologizes so much and so often you no longer make a big deal out of it, but this time, his soft whisper is laced with such heavy guilt, your arms move before your mind thinks, pulling him into a soft embrace.

oh, but this bad mood is nothing compared to his jealousy.

Jeff gets close to you? Jeff is suddenly on the ground, blood leaking from his head and EJ hurriedly dragging the former away, admonishing him about not messing with Toby’s precious human.

Tim comforts you about Toby’s outbursts? suddenly he’s against the wall, Toby growling and spitting in his face. if he can’t be there for you, then no one else gets to be there for you either. though, he knows this is selfish.

if he could help it, he’d let you go to whomever you wanted for comfort. but oh, his heart aches so.

and his jealousy is nothing compared to how angry he gets at himself, bashing the walls of the manor, crying out at night, because he can’t be there for you like a normal boyfriend.

he doesn’t know this, but you’re in a corner too, muffled sobs, tears, nose dripping and all.

so at night, you crawl back into bed before he notices you, and lie awake till he comes back.

as his breathing settles and his snoring begins, you hug him just a little bit tighter, your sweet vogel with broken wings.

ben

you have to admit, BEN is really, really freaky.

in the way he plays his games, the way he treats his archnemesis Jeff, in bed—oops.

but particularly, in the way he seems to have an endless tolerance for things that would usually upset someone.

he just. fucking giggles.

“aww, my sweet Y/N is so cute when she’s mad~”

context: he pissed you off and you’re currently in the middle of admonishing him with your whole heart and soul.

conversely, you’re the one who gets mad right back at him.

within the hour, he presents you with a tiktok with two cats that says: me when i’m venting and all my bf does is make jokes

he cackles to the ends of the earth and proceeds to make even more jokes

frankly, when the topic of frustration comes up with BEN’s name in the same sentence, you pretty much just think of him being the frustrating asshole in the relationship.

“BEN, give me my fucking phone back.”

he’s dangling it over your head, using the fact that he’s a floating apparition that can somehow interact with physical objects to his advantage.

once, you got so frustrated at him that you cried.

thankfully, he had the decency to pause, panic, and reflect on his actions.

“oh.” five seconds passed and your crying didn’t get better (what did he expect?). he repeated himself. “oh.”

“actually say something, you idiot!” you sobbed. and this is what snapped BEN into action. (you can’t believe you actually had to tell him to comfort you.)

“oh.” then he realized he’d just been saying “oh” like a broken record. “um.”

so he wraps you up in a blanket like a burrito, and holds you close to his chest.

“i’m sorry.”

“promise not to do it again?” you look up at him with your best puppy eyes.

“…i can’t promise.” you can tell he’s holding back a cheeky grin.

you whine and hit him lightly.

but you know very well that he loves you; this frustration merely comes with him as a package.

[leclerc-hs]

ex's and oh's - CL16

pairing: ex!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you and your ex-boyfriend are in complicated territory OR your ex fucks you in the drivers seat of his car warnings: 18+, SMUT under the cut, badly translated french (pls correct me), not proofread!!!! word count: 2.4k author's note: ok I just want to sincerely apologize for my long absence on here!!! i know you’ve been waiting for me to finish this for a while now LOL but I've been insanely busy balancing life with two jobs lol. So I'm going to leave this here. I can honestly say it's not my best work and I apologize for that but I really wanted to give y'all something in the mean time. I have a bunch of drafts I plan to work on whenever I get the chance. Love you all!! pls forgive me and don't forget to leave me some comments and thoughts xoxo

THERE WAS NOTHING that could’ve prepared you for this fight. You weren’t drunk, as promised. Although you weren’t sober either. 

You and Charles were...complicated. Exes but…. still, something more. You would always be something more. Your history stretched back almost forever, and that alone made it challenging to stay apart from each other.

There was a point in time when the aftermath of your breakup made it impossible for both of you to share the same space. It invariably led to bitter arguments over seemingly trivial matters. One such instance was during a movie night with your group of friends when you showed up in a sweatshirt that was far too big for your body, obvious that it wasn’t your own. Charles simmered with silent resentment in the corner until he could no longer contain it. The memory etched vividly in your mind, recalling the knots in your stomach throughout the night, feeling the intense burn of Charles’ gaze upon you. He didn’t cast a single glance at the movie that evening.

“Who’s fucking sweatshirt is that?”

“Already fucking other people, hm?”

As you slid into the familiar supple leather seats of his Ferrari, you felt the warmth of the car hug you like a blanket, providing much relief from the contrast of the cold air outside. In the process of slipping into his car, your skirt had ridden up higher than Charles would’ve preferred, your panties nearly exposed if it weren’t for the sheer tights providing more coverage. Did you really go out dressed like that? He felt his hands grip the steering wheel tighter than normal as a waft of your perfume enveloped the car. 

“Did you have fun?” His tone was neutral, but his body posture was tense. He barely turned his head to check if you placed your seat belt on before peeling out from the curb at a speed much too fast.

Sober you would’ve caught onto his attitude almost immediately. But tipsy you, thought nothing of it. 

“Oh Charlie!” You exasperated, the click of your seatbelt filling the car as the radio was turned on the lowest possible volume. “It was so fun!” 

He dropped one of his hands from the wheel, bringing his hand to rub the scruff of his unshaven jaw, as a deep sigh falls past his lips. He was annoyed—more than annoyed. The sole fact that you left him unanswered for hours wasn’t his only issue. What had his muscles all tight and the permanent frown on his face was the images of one of your guy friends being way too close to you. Too close for Charles liking. It was the same guy that his friends had briefly mentioned weeks ago on his boat. 

“Cha, l’aimes-tu toujours?”  Do you still love her? His friends sat around the table; half-eaten food left on their plates. He didn’t answer the question immediately. But everyone knew, subconsciously, that he did.

“Elle et Nick été proches récemment,” Her and Nick have been close lately. The phrase alone made Charles choke on his water. In that moment, he thanked the lord for the sunglasses covering his widened eyes. The burn in his chest began simmering as the conversation continued.

“Oui, ne sont-ils pas partis ensemble l’autre soir?” Yeah, didn’t they leave together the other night?

He couldn’t blame his friends for the discussion. They didn’t know that you two were still in complicated territory. Everyone always figured you two would rekindle, but it’s been so long, no one knew if it would happen anymore.

So, although Charles felt like the air was being sucked out of his lungs, he plastered a big smile on his face while throwing his arm around the back of the chair beside him. “Nick, hm?”

He made a genuine effort to control his anger. Honestly, he really did try. However, as you persisted in discussing the night, particularly when the name ‘Nick’ slipped past your lips, he couldn’t help but lose his composure just a little bit.

His voice took on a lethal edge as he maneuvered the car to the side of the desolate road. The act of driving demanded attention, but his mind was a whirlwind of a million thoughts. He was consumed by anger, it oozed from every pore of his skin as he scoffed and turned to confront you. Your eyes were already fixated on him, and his gaze instantly met yours.

“A-t-il touché à toi?” Did he touch you? His voice rumbled like a low growl, and the green in his eyes was so deep and intense that it masked their actual color, making it nearly impossible to discern the green hue. But you memorized those eyes. His eyes. You were familiar with every nuance of shade that adorned them. His breath was slow and even as he awaited your answer.

The idea drove him insane—the notion of another man laying his hands on you. And even worse, you wanting another man’s hands on you.

For a moment, you found yourself taken aback, only to fully comprehend his tense posture and the sharpness in his tone. Suppressing any inclination to react visibly, you wrestled to maintain a neutral expression, ensuring your lips didn’t betray a hint of a smirk at his jealousy. You didn’t even need to ask who he was. 

“Et est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance s’il l’avait fait?” And would it matter if he did?

The fact that you didn’t need to even address who he was talking about, only caused him to spiral further. As if you were confirming that Nick is the only other option. 

The car felt increasingly smaller as the anger in Charles grew. His knee was bouncing with impatience as he clenched his jaw. Yes. Yes, it fucking mattered. He wanted to shout until his lungs gave out that it mattered. He began to lose the evenness of his breathing pattern, becoming more erratic as you didn’t answer the question.

“Dis-le-moi et nous le découvrirons,” Tell me and we’ll find out. His eyes traced your every movement as your eyes narrowed at him, a scowl forming on your lips. The lips he dreamed about almost every night. 

The silence in the car heightened, and with each passing second, you could feel your heart rate quicken. His gaze remained fixated on your face, unwilling to divert elsewhere. It was as if he were a predator, and you, his prey, captivated under the unrelenting focus of his eyes.

“What? No snarky remarks for me?” C’mon play with me. Although he felt like his chest might crack in two, he needed to mask it. Needed to be nonchalant. 

The tension lingered until you took a sharp swallow, the muscles in your neck twitching, that his eyes shifted, descending to the nape of your neck. They fixated on the subtle gleam of your collarbones, still glistening with a thin sheen of sweat from the night’s dancing. His gaze traced the gentle rise and fall of your breasts with each breath. He wanted to devour you whole.

You felt your thighs clench slightly from his pressuring gaze. He is so fucking hot. His hair in complete disarray from running his hands through it. He wore a pair of grey sweats and a black hoodie that made you want to cling your body around him as soon as you saw him.

“Y a-t-il quelque chose entre vous deux?” Is there something between you two? His patience was wearing thin. You still haven’t answered his question, and the silence was eating him alive.

You detected a subtle waver in his tone, prompting a softening in your gaze. Your hand gently reached for his face, and he allowed his head to lean ever so slightly against the palm of your hand. It was as if your touch alone had the power to appease the turmoil of anger and jealousy rising within him. 

And as much as you loved to get under his skin like he did yours sometimes. You couldn’t find it in you to provoke him. To cause him any pain. “No.”

The corner of his lips twitched up slightly as your thumb brushed against his jawline. His hands tremble when they reach for you, pulling you out of your seat and across the center console into his lap. “Est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance?” Would it matter? You repeated the question as your legs straddled him. His hands slid around your waist, resting on your backside in a tight grip, so you couldn’t move. 

His mouth formed into a hardened line, as if he forced it to show you just how serious he was when he answered. “Bien sûr que cela a de l’importance,” Of course it matters. 

“Porquoi?” Why?

“Why?” He repeats your question. Scoffing at the fact that you even had to ask him. As if you didn’t already know why.

You suck in a sharp breath as soon as his warm tongue meets with the nape of your neck, trailing hot and wet kisses up until his lips meet yours for a moment before pulling away. 

“Mon coeur t’appartient.” My heart is yours. There was no questioning in his words. “Il a toujours été tien.” It’s always been yours. As those words hung in the air, your breath caught. You love this man. You love this man with every fiber of your being. 

His fingers gripped onto your thighs with an almost bruising intensity, as if he needed to confirm your presence by feeling you in his hands, ensuring you weren’t a figment of his imagination. His nails traced along the thin fabric at the apex of your thigh, before digging them in and tearing them open instantly. You let out an audible moan as his fingers found immediate solace to the damp spot on your underwear. Of course, you were already wet just by looking at him.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He questioned, adding slight pressure to your cotton covered clit. 

You moaned in delight at the contact but did not answer his question. It drove him mad.

His fingers slipped past your underwear, shoving them to the side, and slipping his fingers into your heated core. His fingers curled, hitting the spot you needed him most just right. Your back arched, barely grazing the horn of the steering wheel. Your hands were frantic, reaching for the waistband of his grey sweats as Charles lifted in hips off his seat to help you.

“Oh fuck,” You moaned out loud. The pace of Charles’ fingers had you careening forward with a cry, before he pulled them out of you completely, leaving you shouting “No!”.

“Relax cherie,” He clicked his tongue before pulling your chest flush with his, raising you up an inch to slide his cock right into you. He groaned as your pussy clenched tightly around him, squeezing him so tight he could barely focus on anything else. He held you down against him, letting neither of you move. 

It wasn’t until you fully sat, completely full of him, that he rips the buttons of your shirt open, revealing a lacy ensemble across your chest. He traces the tip of his finger along cup of your breast and says, “Did you wear this on purpose, hm?”

You shook your head, wiggling your hips with a groan. You needed to move, needed to feel the force of his cock into you, but he wouldn’t let you. He just held your hips down as if he was waiting for something.

"You feel so good," He groans. "Squeezing me so tight."

“Cha, please.” You begged, getting agitated at the lack of movement.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He repeats again. A grin stretched across his features at your obvious struggle. The fact that you needed his cock this badly, had him only growing harder. 

You bit your lip as Charles’ fingers sprawled across your neck in a tight grip, pulling your face to his. Close enough that your noses were touching.

“Réponds, et je suis tout à toi.” Answer, and I’m all yours.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me?

You don’t know what held you back from answering before. Because you did. He knew you did. He just needed to hear the words from your lips. Needed the reassurance that this was more than a quick fuck to you.

“Oui!” Yes! You half-shouted, eyes blown wide with need. “I will always love you!”

His hand released your hips, giving you the immediate go-ahead. You wasted no time, working yourself over his cock, moans eliciting from the both of you almost instantly. His hands slid to cup your ass, controlling your movements as he urges you to move faster.

“Mon dieu,” Charles groaned, his fingers dipping into the cup of your lacy ensemble, rolling your nipples between his index finger and thumb. “Je t’aime,” I love you.

The mere utterance of those words had you instinctively squeezing his cock with an intensified fervor, bringing you perilously close to the brink of ecstasy. A sly smirk played on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the effect his declaration had on you.

You moved your hips faster, the bounce of your breasts had Charles in a trance before he brought his eyes back to your face, looking you deep in the eyes. “Je t’aime,” He muttered again, bringing his lips to your mouth, swallowing your moans as if they were the oxygen he needed to breathe. “C’mon, give it to me.” He begged, thrusting his hips upward into you as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of his head until you both reach that point of ecstasy you both needed.

His face was bright red, cheeks flushed, as you worked yourself over him in a hurried pace. His sweatshirt no doubt, making him feel like a furnace, as sweat forms near his eyebrow. His eyes were wild, unsure where to look until they met with your eyes. His cock twitching inside of you from the clench of your pussy on him, and the gaze of your eyes.

“Je t’aime!” You shouted, releasing all over him and falling forward in exhaustion onto Charles chest. 

Charles groaned hotly into your ear, his release catching him completely off guard due to the words you uttered. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest as you rested against it. 

“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. His fingers caressed the ends of your hair behind your back. The both of you made no attempts to move.

“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. You repeat back to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

[yndrgrl]

for some reason, your enemy, yandere! katsuki bakugo, is oddly possessive over you

lowkey yandere! reader. smut. fem!reader. regular au. enemies (with benefits) to lovers. virgin! reader mentioned. jealous! bakugo. lowkey! angst the highkey! fluff.

warnings: nsfw, mentions of virginity being taken by katsuki, public sex stuff, tit fucking, degrading, free use, oral (fem receiving), rough fucking, choking, masochism??

a/n: should i start doing more drabbles & headcannons or do you guys like the long fics?

---

katsuki loves seeing you angry.

it's such a strict contrast, really. you're usually calm, put together, level-headed with a hint of dark humor & sarcasm. you seemed like you had unweavering patience when it came to the daily annoyances from stubbing your toe to helping a student that couldn't seem to grasp a subject, no matter how many times you tried explaining it.

the only person who could get under your skin was a certain, arrogant classmate who always had something to say. he would never say anything absurdly rude, but it would always get on your nerves. "the back of your shirt isn't tucked in, dumbass." "your lip gloss color is too bright on you, fuckin' idiot." "there's an easier way to do that, stupid."

maybe it was the tone he gave you-- condescending. maybe it was the way he was so predictable, always following up with a coy smirk. you didn't know why he was the only one to irk you, but you do know one thing, you hate him.

& he hates you.

yet for some reason, you two know more about each other than anyone else. you know how much katsuki hates sweet things, so you'll dump half a bottle of that cheap teriyaki sauce that tastes like artificial sweetener into his spicy ramen when he's cooking. he knows how you have your backpack organized, so he'll purposefully put things into the wrong place just to annoy you.

you two were obvious rivals in almost all aspects of life, & yet the two of you are attached by the hip. he was always in your dorm room while you did your homework, blowing on your ear or messing with stuff he knows he's not supposed to. you would find yourself in the gym with him late at night, sitting on the floor as you watched him to an exercise you didn't wanna do.

your friends would always ask about him, which was another way he would get on your nerves. even when he's not there, his name would get thrown around. "so, (y/n), when are you & bakugo gonna make it official," snickered jiro.

"yeah! we wanna know," momo chimed in. you've had this conversation with anyone who knew you & bakugo, & your answer was always the same.

"NEVER!"

the funny thing about "never" is that it means you, at no time in the future or in the past or on any occasion, would ever, ever even glance at bakugo with any sort of care or attraction. "never" means the only look you'd throw his way is a glare.

yet, there you were, under him, contradicting "never." this arrangement -secret rendezvous & lustful activities- happened a few weeks ago, you remember it so vividly. it was a late night, & you & bakugo were dead tired after training (aka fighting non-stop) with each other for hours followed by studying at his dorm. the two of you weren't done until late, so you told him that you were going to stay in his dorm whether he liked it or not.

another snarky argument ensued, which mellowed into vulnerable confessions. you told him you've never had a partner because you've never had any intimate experience before, so how would you even cope? that night, you lost your virginity to your enemy, & it was so addictive.

after that, your guys' dynamic didn't change outwardly. if people paid attentions a bit more, they would've seen the two of you holding pinkies during lunch. he would sit a tad bit closer in class. it's a good thing you've been wearing your hair down because your neck was covered in hickies.

today, katsuki was even more annoying than he has been the last year. something was coursing through his veins. he was so much more daring, so much more of a bully today.

it started when you woke up in his bed, naked after a night of taboo touches. even last night, he was different, something on his mind. groggily, katsuki shot you a lazy smirk. his fingertips ghosted over your exposed skin while you laid on his bare chest. goosebumps followed in his fingers' wake. you laid there for a moment longer then said, "we should probably get ready for school."

"hm.."

"what?"

"i just need something taken care of, (y/n)," said katsuki, voice deep. you felt him against your thigh that was draped across his hips.

"k-katsuki, we-we can't," you blushed. your protests went unanswered as he started to mark your neck. his love bites trailed around your neck, down to your collarbone.

"shhh, just relax," katsuki whispered as he groped your tits. as quickly as he removed his hand, it was replaced by his mouth, suckling on your nipple; his fingers pinched the other. his free hand dove between your legs.

"katsuki!" you gasped, pussy still sore from last night. you couldn't help but grind your clit against his palm while his fingers were knuckle-deep and pressing against your g-spot. "go-gonna cum," you moaned out, & it was like a switch flipped inside of katsuki.

he pulled his fingers out of your dripping cunt. climbing atop of you, katsuki sneered"didn't i tell you quiet?" he shoved his fingers coated in your juices down your throat, making you gargle in surprise.

his heavy cock laid between your hickey-covered tits. "press your tits together," he commanded. you must've given him a confused look because he instructed sternly, "use your hand & fuckin' press your tits around my cock, nerd." oh god, how he made you so mad. you couldn't even tell him off.

that morning, he finished all over your face & tits. he smacked your cheek a couple of times with his semi-hard cock before getting off of your body to get a towel for you.

the two of you sat in aizawa's class, next to each other, like you didn't have to wash katsuki's cum out of your hair just before school started. what was embarrassing was that your friends (bless their sweet, sweet souls) complimented you, which wasn't out of the norm. however, they were gushing about how your skin was absolutely glowing.

katsuki, knowingly, shot you look of pride. he is truly the worst.

the next period came & went, & then you were stuck in another class with katsuki. your teacher decided that they were sick & tired of the regular routine, so they led the class to the library. they essentially said, "run wild, don't leave the library, & leave me to my own devices."

it's not like you were complaining; you've been wanted to pick up a new book to read so you browsed the aisles. were you also avoiding katsuki? a bit. today, especially, he was just too much. his unfortunately well-placed cockiness & his eagerness to get his hands all over you was a deadly combination.

as your eyes darted from the selection of books, the one you wanted just so happened to be on the top shelf. it wasn't unreachable to you, but it was an inconvenience. you creased your shoes as you went on the tips of your toes, trying to get a grasp of the book when a larger, familiar hand gripped yours. standing behind was katsuki, towering over you. out of instinct, you retracted your hand away, & he grabbed the book

you were about to say thank you when he placed it on top of the shelf. you could barely even see it, so there way no way you were going to be able to reach it. "i want to read that," you deadpanned, trying to turn around but katsuki's hands were on your shoulders. "h-hey, you're not doing what..." your voice trailed off.

his hands glided down your shoulders, caressing the curve of your figure, then stopped at the hem of your skirt. "are you crazy?!" you whisper-shouted at the blonde, to which he just scoffed.

he unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, & all you heard was rustling of fabric. he flipped your skirt up, covering his erect cock with it. sandwiched between your thick ass, he started to grind against you. "then stop me," katsuki whispered into your ear. he brushed your hair away from your neck & blew on your sensitive bruises forming on your skin. "just don't be too loud~ you don't wanna get in trouble, do you?" he snickered, pushing your panties to the side. katsuki shoved his girthy cock inside of your hole, stretching your already-aching walls.

you slapped your hands over your mouth to muffle your gasp. you could hear students, your classmates, talk all around the library. sure, you were tucked away on the second floor in a quiet corner, but you were still in public.

he started rutting his hips against you, shallow & uneven. he was testing the waters to see how far you'd let him go. with the fear of getting caught & utter adrenaline pumping through you, you tried to push away katsuki. his response was to pin your hands against the book shelf & pound your dripping pussy. soft smacks were only heard by you two, no one else close enough to hear the huffs & the mewls.

they say keep your friends close, & your enemies closer, & maybe you've taken that to heart. now, katsuki, your sworn enemy, knows your body inside & out. he knows how much you love being manhandled, which is why he made you arch your back as held your arms above your head while he thrusted in & out of you.

your pussy twitches, as it does every time when you're about to lose yourself in the pleasure, & katsuki knows this too. you were chasing your high, your eyes lulled to the back of your head when, suddenly, he pulled out. "k-katsuki!" you groaned in annoyance & shock. he was a selfish person with the stamina of a sex god. you'd usually cum several times all over his cock before he'd ejaculate inside you.

he flashed you his signature smirk as he wiped his dick with your navy blue skirt. he zipped his pants back up & redid his belt. with a shrug, he sauntered away, & you were left with a knot in your stomach, ratty hair, & frustration bubbling inside of you.

you were not going to entertain whatever sick fantasy he was trying to fulfill. you avoided him the best you could, however the two of you shared pretty much every class together. purposefully, you'd be the last one to class so you wouldn't have to sit beside katsuki. it always landed you in the front of the class, & you could feel his gaze burning holes in the back of your head, but it didn't matter. distance is what he deserved.

you were so mad at him that you didn't even want to look his way, you didn't want to be in his general vicinity.

the moment you saw him notice you, you would walk away from him. your plan was working to your favor until the evening. katsuki & you had very similar day-to-day routines. because you were always stealing portions of katsuki's food in the evening, your stomach began to grumble like clockwork. however, the moment you go downstairs, you would have to confront katsuki.

between the hunger you felt & your distain for the blonde, your hunger felt insatiable-- unfortunately for you. it was hard to ignore because you, while trying to avoid katsuki, skipped your regular meals. all you have in your room is an empty mini fridge, a water dispenser, & a couple of snacks that won't do anything but upset your stomach.

"ughhh," you let out a groan, getting out of the comfort of your bed. you slipped on a pair of pj pants over your spandex shorts & house slippers, prepared to tell katsuki off while stuffing your face with the food he's cooked.

knock. knock.

you jumped, almost letting out a shocked gasp. "oi! open up, stupid!" it was katsuki on the other side of your dorm door. you held your breath... maybe he hasn't heard you yet? "i know you're in there!"

"goddamn it, katsuki! go away," you shouted back as you walked towards your door. you looked through your peephole, only to see an agitated katsuki holding onto something.

"would you stop being a fuckin' child & open the door?"

"no, you're the childish one! get out of here, & go suck midoriya's dick!" just as katsuki can effortlessly get under your skin, you can do the same with him.

he punched your door, which sent vibrations around the door & frame. "you're such a fuckin' kid, (y/n)! i know this is 'cuz i didn't let you cum all over my co-"

abrasive, you threw open your door & dragged the loud-mouth into your room. your hand threw itself over his mouth as you seethed, "would you shut your damn mouth, people can hear you." under your hand, he smirked & kissed the palm of your hand. you tried to pull away with an embarrassed blush, but he gripped your wrist to keep you in place.

he kept leaving butterfly kissed on your palm, maintaining eye contact with you. each gentle kiss shot tinges of pleasure through your nerves. "wh-what are you doing?"

"you're so sensitive, y'know," he responded, kissing up your arm while pulling your closer to him. since when was katsuki this affectionate? your eyes glossed over slightly as he trailed kissed up your arm. sighs of content escaped your plush lips when he started to kiss your collarbone. something brushed against your leg, & that's when you noticed him holding something.

"wh-what is that?" you asked, dragging your nails down his arm that was gripping it. goosebumps appeared all over his arm, & he tensed up.

he cleared his throat. he pulled away from you, &, if you didn't know any better, it seemed as though he were nervous. "it's the reason i'm here in the first place," he grumbled, avoiding eye contact. it was a box wrapped in an all-might cloth.

"oh, you mean you're not just here to torment me & use me," you shot back. you were still so, so angry with him.

he looked at you, eyes wide. "what the hell are you goin' on about, woman?"

you were about to tell him off, all your pent-up frustration about to spill out of your throat when you were cut off by a distinct grumble-- your stomach. katsuki scoffed, but it was clear what you said played over & over in his mind. "it doesn't matter right now, just eat." he shoved the cloth into your hand & sat on your bed; you followed in suit.

unwrapping it by pulling the knot, it came undone to reveal two dark wood bento boxes, two pairs of chopsticks, & two spoons. he took the utensils off the top to place them on the fabric & opened the top bento to give to you. decorated beautifully (& almost intimately) was a homemade bento with onigiri shaped in the traditional triangle along with your favorite protein with pieces of bell peppers, carrots, & other veggies cut into the shapes of hearts & stars. your rice ball had a cute cat face made out of seaweed. you bursted out in laughter, "wh-what is all this!?"

"shut up, asshole!" face flushed, katsuki yelled. "i fuckin' care about you or whatever." your laughter died down, taking in the words he was saying. "when you didn't eat lunch or come train with me or go get a pastry at that one god-awful cafe, i knew i pushed you too far."

"you think?" you retorted as your tapped the tips of your chopsticks against the bento. he took his & took off the lid to reveal his: scraps. it was enough to make him full, but it wasn't as pretty as yours. it was all just thrown in there without a care. the middle of his carrots & bell peppers had heart-shaped holes cut out of them. while your sauce was in a small container to avoid your food getting soggy, his was tossed in there, coating everything. his onigiri was just a ball with the classic seaweed strip.

"learn to shut up for once, will ya?! god, i made you food, so could you just sit there & look pretty & just listen?"

"fine, say what you wanna say," you huffed, taking a bite out of your food.

"listen, (y/n)," he started, "i know i'm harsh & not the best, & i get why you hate me, but i'm not trying to use you. yeah, i like that you & i do the nastiest shit together, but i also like just... walking around with you. you might think that it's just 'cuz i wanna get in your pants, but i couldn't care less about that shit. i don't know, i'm just, i'm sorry, alright?" this rant was so uncharacteristically not him but him at the same time. he was vulgar, yet vulnerable. he apologized.

"katsuki..."

"& i was just messin' with you 'cuz damn raccoon eyes told me that dunceface was gonna ask you out. i know that we're just doing stuff so you'll feel more confident in, i don't know, fucking, but i don't want you with anyone else. i messed up, i know. i just... d'know, i just want you to yearn for me as much as i need you."

"katsuki," you called out. "c-can i admit something to you?"

"what is it?"

"i really like you." a suddenly quiet ensued. katsuki, the guy who always had a snappy comeback, was speechless, & it made your throat tighten.

"(y/n), seriously, don't mess with me-"

"i'm not!" you yelled, but you weren't upset. "the reason i was so mad at you was because i felt used... i don't like feeling like that, especially since i really, really like you. all the stuff we do together let's me be delusional & pretend we're dating. & it's hard to stop because you're just so... doting in your own way. but then today, you didn't wanna make me, you know, so i just thought-"

"we'll that's what you get for thinking," katsuki teased, placing his & your finished bento on your desk. he sat close beside you; if you were to turn your head, your lips would've been centimeters away from his. it's not like you guys haven't kissed before, but this time was different. it felt like the first time all over again.

"(y/n), look at me," he whispered into your ear. you shifted in your spot, but you did as you were told. facing him, you backed your head up, only for it to be stopped by your headboard. "i'm so sorry, angel. let me make it up to you."

"katsuki, i-it's okay-" you were cut off.

he hushed you, eyes half-lidded & clouded with lust. "you'd think by now you'd learn your lesson about shuttin' up, huh?" he said as his hands slid under your shirt, up your torso. you raised your arms, allowing him to take off your shirt. under his breath, he whispered, "fuck."

katsuki climbed in between your legs, looming over your figure. he kissed the valley between your breasts while his arm snaked around your body. with one hand, he unclasped your bra. you threw it onto your dorm floor, & he wasted no time to latch onto your tit. he swirled your perky nipple around his tongue. you squirmed under him, your pants, shorts, & panties joined your bra

to take a moment to breathe, katsuki pulled back, & you, as eager & as horny as ever, ripped off his shirt. "woah, someone's impatient."

"you piss me off, let me have this," you snarled back, a possessive tone in your voice. katsuki made a note to himself: edge you as much as humanly possible. you pulled him close to you. sure, you crushed your face against his chest when you did so, but you didn't care. you started to nip at his exposed skin. hickeys crawled up his chest, decorating his collarbone & creeping onto his neck.

"sh-shit, angel," he breathed out. against your thigh, you felt his clothed dick twitch with every bite. he pushed you away from his bruised skin with a gentleness, his tongue trailing down his body. & just like that, he was the dominate one again.

katsuki, spreading your legs wide for him, placed your legs on his shoulders. your thighs could crush his skull if you so pleased. "you're dripping, (y/n)~" he snickered, followed by a long, slow lick against your slit. you gasped out in shock, back arching out of instinct.

"m-more," you whined. he chuckled that sinister chuckle he always does when he's about to say the most annoying shit ever.

"ask nicely."

"katsuki," you said in a stern voice. you didn't want him at that moment, no, no, no. you needed him. you needed him to make you cum; you needed his stupidly talented tongue on your pussy. you needed to be destroyed by his dumb, heavy cock. "i'm not playing around."

"i'm not either, (y/n). just swallow your damn pride & ask like a good girl, hm?" he replied as he spread your pussy lips apart with his thumbs, blowing cool air on your clit. you two bantered the way you usually do, as though he weren't in between your legs, mouth ghosting against your weeping hole.

you knew he wasn't going to let up, so you swallowed thickly. "k-katsuki?"

"yes?"

"pl-please eat me out," you begged. you looked at him with faux tears welling in your bright, doe eyes.

"how could i say no when you look at me like that, sweet girl," exasperated katsuki, acting like he was doing you a favor when, in reality, he was a selfish man. he loved eating you out, he loved watching you wraith in pleasure, hand clasped over your mouth as cute, little moans escaped your quivering lips. if anything, it got him rock hard & throbbing.

it started out with kisses against your clit, like it always does. soon, the kisses turned into licks & sucks. your hands found themselves entangled in his unruly, platinum hair, & your hips bucked forward. you rubbed your clit against him. one hand started to tease your entrance while he flicked your clit with his tongue. your juices with his drool made it easy to slide his middle & ring finger inside of you.

as if you were holding in a breath, you exhaled in relief. his fingers pumped in & out of you while his tongue circled your bud. the all-to-familiar knot began to form in your stomach. "g-gunna cum!" you whisper-shouted, back still arched & head thrown back. for a second, your vision turned white as you creamed all over katsuki's face. he lapped your juices up like it was an elixir given to him by the gods. overstimulated, you thought he would pull away after cleaning you, but he relented.

that's what you get for thinking.

"hey, wh-what are you doing?" you gasped out as you propped yourself up with your elbows. this time, instead of attacking your clit, his tongue jetted in & out of your hole. he didn't say anything, only looking up at you with his ruby red eyes. you found yourself bucking your hips onto his face once more, finding pleasure in the friction. every time you would look away, he would slow down or stop completely. you came, then came, then came again.

after the fourth time, he finally stopped. you took a deep breath, your frustrations wiped away. "f-fine, you win. y-you made it u-up to me," you stuttered out as you tried to steady your heart rate. your eyes were closed, & your chest heaved with every breath you took.

"why do you look so comfortable? we're not done yet, angel," katsuki growled, & that's when you felt it; his tip running up & down your folds. your eyes snapped open, & your jaw dropped. he eased inside of your pussy, which sucked him in eagerly. you felt full, stretched, yet he was only half way in. he snapped his hips forward, covering your mouth because, every time he does that, you'll let out a droned-out moan.

the fact that he's made you lose your unwavering, cool composure made him feral. you're dripping wet all because of him. you were sucking him in so good. his eyes were trained on your gorgeous face, your eyes were half-lidded, tearing up. whimpers muffled by his large hand made his cock twitch inside you. the way your body looked as you took him in full was the reason he can't let anyone else have you. honestly & truly, you made him crazy.

he showed this in this thrusts. they were harsh, tip slamming against your cervix. as he pumped in & out of your pussy, he uncovered your mouth, his hand travelled down to your neck. with a firm grip, he cut off your airway. your tongue hung out of your mouth as you panted like a bitch in heat. fast & hard, your body jerked forward with each one of his rough thrusts.

choked out mewls escaped your lips, & your eyes rolled to the back of your head. you were about to pass out when he released your throat. you gasped. with every exhale, you couldn't stop yourself from moaning out his name. "k-katsuki~ k-kat-m~"

"such a good fuck," growled katsuki. he draped your legs over his shoulders. the blonde, smirking viciously, loomed over you, leaning forward. your knees were against your bare chest, you feet passed your head. you were folded in half, powerless. all you could do is squirm, cry out his name, & let him pound the shit out of your pretty pussy.

he held himself over you with one hand. his other cupped your face. he squished your cheeks together so your lips would pucker. "you're such a fuckin' pretty asshole," he chuckled. "you know how many guys wanna piece of you? none of 'em get t' have you though, that's all my privilege," katsuki gloated, his voice sounded muffled yet so clear. you tried responding but all that came out were lewd moans

he let go of your face as his thrusts started to become erratic. his grunts were animalistic, the sound of skin slapping skin echoed off the thin walls. possessively, he growled sweet nothings into your ear, & you had to bite back your screams of pleasure. at this point, you felt so good that you couldn't even begin to care about who might find out. hell, even if someone told aizawa that the two of you were breaking rules, you would tell him to scold you the next day.

"c-cum," you rasped, your legs sore from being folded. you squirmed under him to find some comfort for your legs. you tried pushing him away, yet you still chased your high. was the pain turning you on? there's no way.

"tch, cum, you fuckin' brat," commanded katsuki, & it was clear he wouldn't let you change positions until you creamed all over his thick cock.

"c-cumming!" your legs shook as your walls spasmed around katsuki. you heard him curse under his breath, his dick twitched inside you.

"gon-gonna fill you up, 'k?" he told you, all you could do is weakly nod. for a moment, he didn't care about your pleasure. he had one mission, & that was to use you so he could cum. he was treating you like a toy. your legs fell near his hips, but you couldn't find the strength to wrap your legs around him. gripping your hips, he moved you up & down his dick like you were a fleshlight.

"you're such a naughty girl, (y/n)~ everyone's gon' know that y'er all mine," he told your through gritted teeth. he didn't wait for a response, groaning loudly. "take it, fuckin' take it, baby," he said as he slammed his cock inside of you before his thrusts became needy, shallow. hot ropes of his cum painted the walls of your pussy. with the entirety of his cock inside you, his cum seeped out of you, dripping onto your duvet.

you felt your heartbeat in your core, & you struggled to catch your breath. he captured your lips in a passionate kiss, it was so unlike him. since when has anyone described katsuki bakugo as gentle? yet here he was, tending to you, cleaning you up & giving you soft kisses on your plush lips. "you okay, babe?" he questioned, just a hint of snarky pride behind his tone.

"y-yeah," you stuttered out, stretching your your legs. they quivered with every movement, & your face was flushed with embarrassment. he scooped you up with one arm while the other swiped the duvet off your bed. he tossed it in your dirty laundry hamper. your arms were around his neck as you cuddled into his bare chest when you told him, "you were just rough is all."

he laid the two of you down, covering you with your fluffy, (what you dubbed) "emergency" blanket. he started to scratch your head, & your eyes felt droopy. "i'm sorry, sweet girl. was i too rough?"

"no," you sighed with a smile. "i can handle it."

"yeah, i'm sure you can."

"i can! i just proved it to you!" you retorted, your eyes closing.

"whatever."

[muntitled]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞

Farleigh Start x Fem!Reader

Summary: Hating Farleigh had never stopped him from using you

Content Warnings: Language, Fwb, Forbidden Relationship, Unedited, Dark Fic, Dark Humor, Coarse Jokes, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Smoking, Weaponizing!Ollie, Smut (+18), Minors DNI, Slight CNC, Breeding, Neediness, Exhibition Kink, Grinding, Extreme Degradation, Humiliation Kink, Praise Kink, Hate Sex, Hair Pulling, Rough sex, Messy Sex, Spitting, Orgasm Control, Dirty Talk, Choking

He'd definitely bully me if he was real, and I'd be in love with him

"It's not like we're actually going to eat anything. Mother only insists we all make use of the furniture," Venetia's rambling is incessant as she walks briskly into the dining hall. You know her irritation is the by-product of the undiagnosed anxiety that comes with being forced into an uncomfortable Dior slip on such short notice.

In all fairness, you weren't doing so well either. The dress you are currently wearing is just as suffocating and Venetia's Saint Laurent heels dig into your bone. Your outfit is a velvety, laced up nightmare.

A torture chamber.

You wholeheartedly wanted to crawl into your own bed and forget about everyone and everything. In fact, the only thing keeping you mildly excited for dinner with The Henrys happens to be-

"Gentlemen!" You exclaim, before cleverly adding, "And you've brought Farleigh with you."

You all congregate at the left side of the dinner table, while the Henrys and The Henrys wives all mill about the dinner party. There are'nt any rules to things like this. It's all so self explantory.

What was not all too self explantory was your seating positions. Venetia forces you to sit in between herself and a very vexed Farleigh.

"How interesting," Farleigh barely addresses you in his tired monotonous lilt, "You're almost, nearly, just about, decently dressed." You bristle as you lower your behind to your chair, all while Farleigh shoots you a tight-lipped smile.

"Wow!" Your words drip with sarcasm, promptly halting Farleigh from flirting with the man to his immediate left - one of the Henrys closeted sons, no doubt. "That almost, nearly, just about sounded like a compliment!" You exclaim before leaning over beside him in a daring display of confidence. You place your hand tentatively on his thigh before whispering, "Am I going to have to use my rape whistle?"

Farleigh's scoff sends a string of lightning shooting down your spine.

"You're such a slut, I think you'd enjoy probably enjoy it." His breath is hot against your cheek and would be considered vile.

It should be vile.

Why can't you bring yourself to find Farleigh as vile?

With his elbows lowered underneath the table like a good little gentleman, Farleigh lets his fingers crawl tentatively over your thigh.

The games are on.

Your heart is beating at a million miles an hour with your mind reeling at not only Farleigh's large warm palm finding its home on your ample thigh but his words.

They are in complete contrast to everything you two have experienced together thus far on your stay in Saltburn.

As his fingers inch their way towards your inner thigh you're absolutely breathless. All you can think about is your escapade in the pool the evening before.

Both Catton siblings had been immersed in a very Catton argument, leaving you and Farleigh to your own devices on the banks of the stone pool.

With both your arms leaning over the ledge of the pool and Farleigh pressed to your side, no one could barely tell that Farleigh already had two digits dipped inside your weeping cunt. His hand moved slowly and deftly, so as not to cause too much of a stir in the water and give you two away. And he did it all while leaning his free hand out of the pool, cradling his copy of Jane Eyre with his eyes glued on the pages.

"F-Fuck Farleigh, can I cum?" He sighed at your agitated state.

"Not until I'm finished with Chapter 18." He mumbled almost distractedly, as if your needy voice was something akin to a pesky fly interrupting his reading.

Chapter 18, as you'd probably guessed, had never ended.

His cousins were back from their argument and his fingers left your cunt just as quickly. You had both went back to pretending to hate each other and you were left to 'rub one out' in the safety of your room like some hormonal teenager.

You truly are furious with him.

"What's this I'm hearing about a rape whistle?" Felix pipes up from the other side of Farleigh, equally dressed up all spiffy for the Henry's "You didn't rape anyone, did you?"

Farleigh's response is more of a hiss, "Of course I didn't-"

"Surely there must be more savory topics of discussion at the dinner table other than rape?" Comes the quick mediation of Elsbeth, who sits at the head of the table, clutching her string of expensive pearls as if they weilded the power to rid her of all these insolent little kids.

"Of course there is," you exclaim before turning your head to smile at the presence beside Ventia, nestled quietly in his seat like a little pauper.

Farleigh's manicured fingernails sink half moons into the skin of your thigh, peeking up from the slit of your dress as you lean away from him and say, "You must be Oliver! It's a relief to see another commoner around here." It was so undeniably petty to weaponize Farleigh's greatest foe, but the vexation of not being made to cum the night before still hangs heavily on your shoulder. And at the end of the day, you really just were a petty bitch.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ollie!" Slightly leaning over Venetia, the boy looks pale. As if he was biting down on his words. God, his tongue must be riddled in scars.

"Pleasure to meet you." Oliver cooly mirrors the warm and inviting smile stretched across your face.

"Don't lean over me," Venetia mumbles, "I'm not a child."

Meanwhile, Farleigh scoffs once again. While he injects himself in your conversation, his hands move swiftly to cup your vagina, nearly raking a gasp out of your throat in the process. "She won't sleep with you, mate." his brown eyes are trained on Oliver's. "She's a slut but not that big of a slut."

The extreme degradation laced in Farleigh's voice is enough to have you nearly moan out in front of all your friends, their family, and all the bloody Henrys.

Farleigh knew exactly which buttons to push to have you melting catastrophically against his fingers. He knew what words could have you slipping into subspace and he knew how to get your cunt weeping.

"Jesus Christ, could we not do this right now?" Venetia asks, staring pointedly at her cousin, and not at the sight of your legs parting to further accomdate his lazy rubbing against your cunt.

"I'm sorry, Cousin," Farleigh replies, "but it's not my fault your best friend is a raging bitch."

A breathless chuckle escapes your clenched teeth, "I-I'm not a-"

"Yeah, I am so completely done with this conversation," Venitia says, before strangling the stem of her wine glass and chugging it down as if it was nothing but water.

You turn back to hiss into Farleigh's ear, "You're such an a-asshole-"

"Say that again but don't sound like you're on the verge of squirting on my fingers in the middle of dinner." His grin is shadowed by the dimness of crystal chandlier and all the little candles posted along the table. "This is what you get for being a bitch," he says, socasually it makes you break your resolve by shifting in your seat, to better grind your cunt against his fingers, even for a mere second.

It's almost enough to make you cum right then and there.

"Oh-ho!" He aims a guffaw at the sky, "You really are a needy little slut-"

"This dress is shit," you suddenly push yourself out of your chair, creating the minimal noise of wood scraping against the floors. Most eyes are on you and Farleigh slyly removes his hands from in between your thigh. He leans over the table, bringing his fingers to his lips before spreading them over his gums like you would cocaine.

"I have to go change." You say to Venetia, before promptly (and very rudely) bowing out of the dinner.

A few seconds later, you hear Farleigh mumble something about needing a smoke and your heart rattles wildly in its cage. His footsteps are brisk behind yours, and you can feel his eyes sinking into your figure.

While your feet carry you to your destination and you let your brain catch on, you're already sneaking into Farleigh's room.

"Ah! Trespasser!" He exclaims excitedly behind you, with his hands stuffed in his pocket.

"You're so fucking annoying!" Your complains barely escape your throat before he's attacking you in a sloppy, open mouth kiss. He steals the air right out of your lungs, until he's breathing for the both of you. Farleigh slips out of his Abercrombie suit blazer, discarding the material as if it truly meant nothing to him.

His hands are everywhere, with special interests in your breasts compressed tightly by the uncomfortable stitching of your dress.

"This dress..." you mumble distractedly.

"Fuck this dress." He says, and you wholeheartedly agree. Perhaps it was desperate of you to turn in haste. Lifting the ends of your hair to present the zipper to him.

"You look fucking ravenous." He admits in a grave whisper, with his lips grazing the side of your neck, "I wanna fucking eat you." He says, "I wanna be inside you."

"You have such a dirty mouth, Farleigh," the groan that escapes his throat as he zips down your dress lets you know that you may have found your way in.

As the dress spills around your heeled feet, followed by your lacey underwear, Farleigh reattaches his full lips to the skin of your back. "What did you say?" His voice is like the rough gravel encircling Saltburn and you let your eyes roll to the back of your head as you arch backwards against him. His hardness presses against your ass and your fingers weave their way into his curls.

"I said youre a dirty boy, Farleigh." He ruts against you, almost as a second thought. "A dirty fucking boy,"

"Fuck," his hands dig into your hips, rubbing you against him. All as he pleases. "Fucking, fuck. I'm not gonna cum like this-" He says suddenly before spinning you back around.

It is few and sparse moments when you're reminded just how much taller Farleigh is than you and eventide it happens, the wind is knocked out of you. Farleigh advances on you like a literal predator until you're forced to fall backwards on his bed.

He barely undoes the bowtie, and only a few buttons go loose enough to showcase the beautiful expanse of his chest.

"You're absolutely soaked aren't you?" He asks, hovering on the bed above you.

"I need to cum, Farleigh, please-" You knew it was the only way to get what you wanted. You had unashamedly resorted to begging for a man who hooked his nails into your hair, forcing you to sit upright as he parted your legs.

"Look at you," he whispers before cackling maniacally. "You're so stupidly wet, you filthy fucking girl-"

"O-oh fuck, Fuck Farleigh," Your try by all means to grind your cunt into the mattress but is doesn't happen.

"When are you going to learn that I own your orgasms?" He whispers, with his other hand furiously undoing the belt of his fitted pants. "You don't cum until I say. You don't touch yourself until I say. You don't even fucking think about cumming until I say-"

"You're such a big little baby," you spit back, "A big needy, little b-"

You're once again pushed backwards and Farleigh's mounting you with his leaking cock locked tight in his fist.

You automatically lift your legs to present your cunt to him and he groans at the sight.

"I'm going to cum inside of you." He promises.

"I want you too."

Farleigh's eyes are heavy as he slides himself inside you. He looks down at you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. A treasure trove.

"Fuck- I need you to carry on talking." Farleigh says before shutting his eyes tightly. "Fuck you feel so good-"

"You're doing so well, baby," his hips rut inside you, accidentally pushing his cock in way too deep, way too fast and you both hiss and moan. "Such a good boy," you say with your hair finding his own curls, "You're being such a good fucking boy, Farleigh-"

"Open your mouth," you comply robotically. Farleigh places his hands on the underside of your chin before tipping your head backwards. His chains dangle above you as you stick your tongue out and he spits directly into your mouth. "Such a slut," he says, "Such a filthy fucking good girl." His words have you grinding your cunt against his cock until soon, you're both on the precipice of cumming.

"F-Fuck-"

"Such a good girl," he whispers, with his breath ghosting yoir face and the sound of skin slapping against skin only grows louder and louder. "S-So fucking good-" He whispers over and over again until your cunt clenches around his cock, promting Farleigh's orgasm with a quickness.

His cum spilling inside you has you slipping unceremoniously into your own orgasm and Farleigh wails in both the pleasure of your cunt milking him dry, or your fingers still pulling his hair like crazy.

"Fuck!" He exclaims before slumping on the bed beside you, "Get your fingers out of my hair, you psycho-"

"You love it, though," there's a teasing lilt in your voice, and all Farleigh does is scoff before patting down the pockets of his pants.

"You give me endless reasons to smoke," he says, before tipping his head back, unknwongly leaning into your embrace as your fingers coil through his soft curls.

"You'd smoke anyway."

[feral4daryl]

I would love to see a fic of Daryl with pregnant reader (bonus points if there’s a breeding kink [if you’re comfortable, I didn’t see it in the list] that results in her being that way). She’s concerned about the changes in her body and that he doesn’t find her attractive in her condition. So, Daryl gets to share his love for pregophillia. :)

masterlist || MDNI

depths of your despair.

daryl dixon x pregnant!reader

summary: after a series of misunderstandings, insecurities regarding your pregnancy start affecting your relationship with daryl. but as soon as he becomes aware of that, he makes it up to you, worshipping your pregnant body like he should've done since the beginning.

warnings: 18+ smut, pregophilia, dirty talk, pet names, praising, cunnilingus, degradation, daddy kink, creampie, impregnation, arguments, rough sex, pregnancy sex, outdoors sex, slight choking, dacryphilia, self-consciousness, manhandling (if you squint), squirting.

word count: 8.1k

a/n: tysm for your request, i really enjoyed writing this one <3 it turned out a tiny bit more angsty than i intended it to but i promised it has a happy ending!

<flashback>

“Tha's righ', doll” Daryl cooed against your ear, harshly gripping your hips to keep you in place while he pounded your tight cunt at a fast pace. His chest pressing on your back, making your body shake with intense pleasure at his every thrust, each one deeper than the previous. You could feel his sweat wetting your body, barely able to keep your eyes open.

“Takin' daddy's cock so well like a good lil’ slut” The contrast between praising and degrading turns your brain into putty. That man knew all your weakest spots, he always knew exactly what to say to make you weak in the knees, struggling to keep yourself on your feet. You couldn't think of anything else or anyone else in that moment but him and the feeling of his big cock almost ripping your little cunny apart.

Daryl's always been the sweetest to you, always making sure you were safe, giving you all the shoulders when you cried, but when it came to sex, he was always just so eager and desperate for you that he couldn't help but be rough. He made every fucking feel like the last one, as if it was his last chance to ever lay his hands on you. He made it count, making you wonder how you were capable to have lived so many years without that man before you met him.

You tried to keep quiet, careful not to catch the attention of any of those walking dead fuckers' roaming around the woods while Daryl harshly abused you against a tree, whispering the dirtiest words into your ears. But he wasn't making it easy on you, and despite your effort, your moans and cries were getting louder and louder as you got closer to your high. He reveled in the way you bit your lips and threw your head back to rest it on his shoulder. He took the opportunity to let go of your hips and wrap his big arm around your throat, his other palm now pressing against your lips in an attempt to muffle your sounds.

“Shhh...” He shushed you. “Be nice 'n quiet fer daddy, yea?” His teasing words and a small nibble on your earlobe from him were all it took to make your legs finally fail as you sank to your knees. Instead of holding you up, he nearly finished throwing you on the dirt, laying your body flat on it. The tickling of the leaves and the rough texture of the ground could almost bother you if you weren't so lost in pleasure. He got even rougher, if that was possible, banging his hips against your ass so hard that made your moans shaky and your eyes start tearing up.

He loved whenever he gave you so much pleasure that you cried on his cock, the sight of thick tears running down your cheeks only fueling his twisted desires for you.

“Aww, wha's the matter, sunshine?” He mocked you, his voice coming out a bit louder than he expected. His piercing blue eyes looked around for a moment, searching for any threats but never stopping railing you. When he found none, he fully returned his attention to you, noticing the way your moans had practically dissipated and your had your eyes shut tight, a clear sign that you were dangerously close to cumming.

“Gunna cum fer daddy?” The volume of his groans and grunts getting harder and harder to hold back. You weren't able to speak with his hand pressed against your mouth and almost couldn't breathe with his big bicep wrapped around your throat, but you managed to nod slightly.

“Fuck, 'm gunna cum!” His needy voice filled your empty mind and you felt his hips stuttering when the rhythm of his thrusts started faltering. “Gunna fill ya up, make ya heavy w' ma babies.” You widened your eyes out, it was the first time he ever said something like that. But you were willing to give that man all he wanted, make his every wish come true like your life depended on it. You wouldn't say no to him and honestly, the thought of caring his children strangely turned you on even further. A faint smirk managed to creep on your face.

“Ya wan' tha', beautiful? Ya wan' Daddy ta make ya pregnant, hm?” How could you ever say no to him when the neediness in his voice was so obvious?

“P-please, fuck a baby into me.” The strangled sound of your voice while you begged him to fill you up was the fuse for him to finally start shooting ropes of cum into your velvety walls. Your tight pussy clenched around his cock as you weren't able to stop your own orgasm from dominating all your senses. It was like the world stopped spinning and the whole Universe contributed to make that moment perfect.

As both of you came down from your highs, Daryl gently brushed a strand of hair off your cheek, tugging it behind your ear to place a soft kiss to your temper. In that moment, the sounds of your labored breathing as you struggled to catch your breath was all that could've been heard until he let out a light chuckle.

“Can't believe we did this.” You could hear a smile in his voice while he pressed his cheek against the back of your head for a last time before adjusting his position, sitting down on the dirt and gently grabbing your arms, helping you do the same. Even though you were in the middle of the woods, you couldn't care less about it. All you wanted was to be in Daryl's strong embrace. “But I'm glad we did” You whispered, snuggling his chest.

<end of flashback>

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀~4 months later~

It still felt vivid.

It's like you could still feel his love from 4 months ago, the way he groped your body and made love to you like it was the last time. How ironic, if somebody told you that was actually the last time, you would have laughed right in their face. Now, as you unwrapped the towel off your naked body and tossed it aside to stare at yourself into the mirror, you wondered if you'd made the right choice, if you really should've let the heat of the moment get the best of you.

Your belly was round and your bellybutton was puffing out, an unusual look to you but it's been your reality for the past 4 months. You didn't really know how to feel about it. You were happy to be the one having the privilege to carry Daryl's baby, but at the same time it still felt so new and strange to you. And the way he felt so distant since the day when he knocked you up was not helping you feel any better about it.

He wasn't exactly neglectful of your needs as a pregnant woman. He was always around you, making sure you were safe, helping you through the symptoms of pregnancy, holding your hair up whenever you threw up. He was there, but at the same time, he wasn't.

4 months ago Daryl used to be so eager for you, always so thirsty for you. And now, he just left you aching for his touch. Whenever you tried to initiate some intimacy, he turned you down, leaving you confused at his strange behavior. He definitely wasn't the type of guy to refuse sex, at least not after knowing you, so you started wondering if you were the problem.

The stretch marks on your belly were getting more and more obvious as the time passed, your breasts all swelled up with milk. You gained some weight, and as you leaned in closer to check on your face on the mirror, you could see how round your face was getting.

Disgust.

That's what you felt when you looked at yourself. You were so sure your looks were the reason why Daryl wanted nothing to do with your body ever since you got pregnant. As that feeling filled up your whole body, you quickly started putting some clothes on, not able to look at yourself like that not even for one more second. Maybe he didn't like you in dresses, you wondered, trying to find a reasonable motive for his absence when it came to the moments of intimacy between you two that used to be so frequent and special in your relationship. Anyways, loose dresses were all that fit your body as your belly grew bigger and bigger each day.

It just broke your heart. The feeling of helplessness took over you as thick tears ran down your face, smearing the makeup you started to put on to see if it would make him even just a little bit interested in you. But just as all your other attempts, it was useless. You brought your soft palm to your mouth to muffle your sobs, but that only reminded you of how Daryl used to do the same exact thing to muffle your moans when he loved your body. More and more tears streamed down your cheeks as you reminisced your last time together like that.

You made a decision. You didn't want to suffer like that anymore, so you decided that you were gonna try to get his attention for the last time before shutting down completely. You didn't wanna give his love up, but you were so tired of practically begging for him only for him to brush you off every time. You sighed and looked at yourself on the mirror for the last time, wiping your tears away and taking a deep breath before going about your day.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀~Later that same day~

It was dark and Daryl still hadn't come home from his run. He was out scavenging, or hunting, you weren't even sure since you didn't bother to ask much. You had promised yourself that you were going to try to be intimate with him one last time, but that day he just vanished, leaving you waiting for him all day until you gave up waiting. You weren't only disappointed, you were almost angry at him, trying to give him a taste of his own medicine. But who were you trying to fool? That didn't make you feel better at all and you weren't sure if he noticed it.

It was happening again, that one familiar knot started forming in your throat as your lips pouted and you pulled the blanket over your head, feeling embarrassed at your own vulnerability. You brought a hand to your own belly, gently stroking it. Oh, how you loved that little bundle of happiness that was growing inside you. But at the same time, you felt so strange about it. You loved your baby, that's for sure, but you felt like it was the reason why Daryl didn't want you anymore. At the same time it made you hopeful of a new beginning in life, it was reminder of the day when Daryl stopped finding you attractive, even remotely.

Once again you weren't able to hold your sobs back, but this time, you were forced to abruptly swallow them down when you heard the creak sound of the door being gently pulled open. You knew who it was, and you almost wish you didn't.

“Pumpkin'?” Daryl's quiet voice filled the room as he called you that stupid nickname he only used when he knew you were feeling down. You didn't answer.

Light footsteps could be heard getting closer and closer to the bed before you felt the weight of his body on the edge of the mattress. “Y/N, hun'?” He called for you again, but when he got no answer for the second time, he reached for you, gently touching your arm from over the blanket.

“What do you want?" Your tone sounded a bit harsher than you intended to, but you didn't care. He sighed.

“I think we need ta talk, pumpkin'” He voice, making you even more frustrated.

“Quit calling me that, alright?” The muffled sound of your voice reached his ear, and he flinched a little at your sudden aggressiveness, removing his hand from you.

He was silent for a moment, digesting your strange reaction after speaking again with an even softer tone. “Aigh'.” He sighed. “Listen, Y/N...” It's like he was struggling to form a sentence. He was never really the type of person to have the right words or to know what to say to comfort somebody, but he tried nonetheless.

“I need ta know wha's happenin' if ya wan' me ta help.” He muttered. You almost felt guilty at the way you were treating him, but you had enough.

“Ugh, Daryl.” The way you said his name had a hint of scorn, a clear reflexion of the troubled feelings in your heart. You finally pulled the blanket off your face, lifting your body up to sit down on the mattress in a quick and almost aggressive motion. “Who the fuck said I need your help? Just leave me alone, ignore me like you always do.” You spitted out, looking deep into Daryl's widened out eyes. “I don't want you here.” You continued. You knew damn well you were saying all that because you thought that's how he felt, like some sort of revenge, but your heart was broken because of him. It was his fault and you were tired of pretending everything was okay. “Why don't you go fuck some other slut out there? Maybe they're better, thinner, prettier than me!” Your tone was filled with hurt as you voiced your insecurities. “Maybe you should be with them once and for all.” You practically whispered that last line, muttering under your breath.

The truth was you started considering the possibility of Daryl having an affair behind your back ever since you got pregnant. And you just couldn't take it, you couldn't help the way your heart shattered at the thought of Daryl putting his hand on another woman, making her feel good just how he used to do when he still loved you. You were so sure he hadn't left you yet just because he wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing that he left a pregnant woman behind. You knew that was the only reason was he still bothered to even talk to you.

Daryl was so dumbfounded by your attitude, since you were usually such a sweet and caring person, that he freezed. He didn't know what to say or do, so he just sit there, looking obviously negativity affected by your harsh words, wondering what the hell did he do to deserve that kind of treatment.

“Y/N-” He started talking, but you were having none of it. You spent so long begging him attention that now you just didn't want it anymore. When he threatened to scoop closer in a final attempt to ease things out, you surprised him by pushing him away from you with your hand pressed on his chest. “Get out!" You practically yelled. That was the most shocked you've ever seen Daryl's face before. After a moment, he averted his gaze to the floor, looking lost in thought before standing up and nodding slowly, knowing better than to push you harder. He walked to the door and closed it behind him, finally leaving you alone as you wanted him to. Or at least that's what you thought.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ *One week later*

You haven't seen Daryl since your last one-sided argument. If you missed him before, now the feeling got even worse. Ever since he closed that door a week ago, you haven't even heard of him. Maybe he'd left you for good. But could you blame him? You literally kicked him out of your life like it didn't matter. But after all, he was the one that made it feel like it didn't matter. That's what you had to keep feeling yourself, trying to comfort your poor soul or make yourself feel any less guilty. It didn't really work, though.

You tried. When he was gone for the first day, you wasted no time before trying to make it up to all the time you lost longing for him. You flirted with random men and women, trying to catch a glimpse of that feeling you used to get when Daryl gave you attention, but it wasn't the same, it didn't feel remotely similar. Maybe pushing him away like that was a mistake, maybe you had really lost him.

But fuck it. You were pregnant with his baby and he still had the gut to leave you behind. You had every single right to be mad and to try to restart your life, this time away from him. Even though it had been only one week, it felt like an eternity, every second he wasn't there made you feel every cell on your body begging for him, but you couldn't give in.

Sigh.

Spencer. You noticed the way he looked at you before and after you got pregnant. His gaze didn't change, he still licked his lips and looked you up and down with that stupid smirk on his face everytime you walked by. He was often the reason for arguments between you and Daryl when you were still together, but now, there was nothing stopping you. Not that you were attracted to him exactly, to be honest, he kind of annoyed you, but you just wanted to try. You just wanted to give yourself a chance to be loved, actually loved, not only for your looks. Deep inside, you knew you were just needy to feel something, anything, but you couldn't be blamed for wanting to feel okay after such a long time of feeling neglected.

You turned your head to search for him just to notice he was already staring from afar. You turned your head to face forward again, feeling a bit uncomfortable at the way he looked at you. Now that Daryl was gone, that type of behavior wasn't unusual coming from Spencer. He got even more spunky than before, flirting with you every single time he had the opportunity to. You swallowed your pride, trying to convince yourself that you were actually into him, taking a moment to decide whether or not to approach him and try something. You knew he wouldn't reject you, you just needed to dominate your heart that was still very much in love with Daryl and move on with your life, and maybe trying something with someone new was the first step to finally get over him.

As you gathered up the nerve to walk over to Spencer, slowly turning your body, you gasped in surprise noticing that he was already standing behind you. You were so lost in thought that you didn't even hear him approaching you.

“Easy there, doll.” He uttered. It felt weird to have anyone else that wasn't Daryl calling you pet names, but you quickly shook those thoughts away, trying to focus on the present. “Hey.” You answered, sounding significantly more uninterested than you meant to.

“What's eating you?” He pondered with a hint of playfulness in his voice and that stupid grin once again when he noticed your stiffness.

“Nothing.” You faked a smile. “What you been up to?” You tried to remain polite but flirty at the same time, trying your best to cover up how much you found him annoying. It was for the best, you thought. You just needed to adapt.

“Well...” He came closer. You had to fight all the urges to step away. “You know, the usual. I was just...” His fingers brushed your cheek before tugging a strand of hair behind your ear. Too close. But you continued playing along as he resumed his speech. “... Admiring your beauty.” God, could he get any cornier than that? It's like everyone that wasn't Daryl just looked so stupid trying to get your attention. There was you again, thinking about the archer. You sighed, failing to mask your lack of interest towards Spencer, but you managed to speak either way.

“Uh... Thanks...” You scratched the back of your head, feeling uncomfortable at his advances, but you tried to remind yourself that that whole thing meant a new start.

He looked so full of himself when he puffed his chest and had the audacity to say: “Can I follow you home?” You tilted your head in confusion. “Huh?” For the first time since you acknowledged his presence, he actually had your attention.

“Cause my parents always told me to follow my dreams.” He said that as if it was the most genius thing one could say. You had to make physical effort not to throw up or burst out laughing right there and then. The hell was that supposed to mean? Were you really the type of woman to fall for corny pick-up lines? But... You didn't really had other options. You had to give him a chance, maybe he was the one.

Either way, you couldn't bring yourself to say anything, so you just stood there with a stupid fake smile on your face. Spencer must've interpreted that as an invitation, because he leaned in, his face inches away from yours. You two weren't even 3 minutes into that conversation and he was already all over you. You wondered if that whole situation was awkward just for you, because he behaved as if he had you wrapped tight around his finger.

You really, really wanted to start running right away from him, but you were paralyzed, trying to decide if you should stay or go. But before you could make up your mind, he pulled you in by the back of your head, connecting your lips together.

Ugh.

It was probably the most awkward kiss of your life, as if you just forgot how to kiss in that moment. You widened your eyes out at the uncalled situation, and as he licked, bit and kissed your lips, yours remained stiff, like he was kissing you but you weren't kissing him. You felt deeply disgusted. What were you doing? Just like your lips, your arms were rigid on your sides, but his hands were roaming all over your body. You felt assaulted, even though you were allowing him to do that.

You wondered how the hell you ended up there: pregnant, with a missing boyfriend and making out with some douchebag out of emotional deprivation. In that moment, it finally clicked, you were just trying to fill the hole Daryl's absence left in your heart, and putting up with Spencer's audacious manners was no way of dealing with grief.

You finally pushed him away, accidentally sounding too annoyed. “See you around.” You spitted out before turning around and leaving him standing there in confusion, or maybe confidence, you didn't know since you didn't bother to study his reaction before quickly entering the house you were settled in in Alexandria.

You closed the door behind you, pressing your hands on your face, fighting the urge to scream and let all that frustration out. You slowly slid your back against the wooden door until your bottom reached the floor. If one word could describe you right now, it was helpless. For the hundredth time in the past few months, you started crying. It was like it was all you knew how to do since you lost control of your life. Oh, how you regretted that one moment 4 months ago where you slipped, causing your life to be destroyed right before your eyes while not being able to do a thing about it. Now not only you felt ugly, but you felt ugly and lonely. Your sobs got louder and louder as you wrapped your arms around your legs, lowering your head to press your forehead to your knees.

Knock-knock

Suddenly, you heard a knock at the door. You abruptly interrupted your crying, feeling embarrassed at the possibility that someone's heard you like that. After a few seconds, you heard another knock. You sighed.

“Leave me alone...” You muttered loud enough to be heard from the other side of the door. You knew it was probably Carol coming to visit, maybe bringing you some cookies or something like that to make you feel better. It was so sweet of her, but you hated how everyone was treating you ever since Daryl disappeared. You just couldn't take the look in their eyes, the so obvious pity they felt. After all, you were a recently abandoned mother, and Carol along with your other group mates, just wanted to be there for you. Little did they know they were just making it worse.

When you were starting to think the person finally left, you heard a third knock on the door. Whoever was there, didn't seem to be giving up soon. You almost felt grateful for having someone give a shit about you, but deep down you just wanted to be left alone. You breathed out for a last time before standing up with difficulty due to your heavy pregnant belly and reaching for the doorknob, contemplating whether you should let them in or not. Then, you turned it and slowly pulled the door open.

Your eyes remained glued to the floor, not having the courage to look into anyone's eyes right now. Then, to your surprise, a familiar hoarse voice made its way to your ears.

“The hell was tha'?” You swiftly lifted you chin up, locking eyes with him, the man who left you when you needed him the most. He definitely had seen your pathetic attempt of feeling appreciated with Spencer. For a millisecond, you were actually relieved to see Daryl, but quickly enough anger flooded your senses once again. It's like it was all coming back to you, the same exact feeling from one week ago when you saw him for the last time making your blood boil once again. How did he dare to disappear into the world and then come back as if nothing happened?

You didn't wanna waste no more time with him and that situation anymore, it was just too nerve-wracking and you just needed a break from all that. So you aggressively pushed the door aiming to slam it on his face, but he was more cunning and placed a hand on the way, stopping it from closing all the way.

“Please, Y/N!” He almost shouted, visibly impatient. You turned your back and started walking further into the house, ignoring his calls for you.

“Can ya please just talk ta me?!” He continued, following you around. You remained trying to disconsider his presence.

“Why r ya doin' this fer, woman?!” Now, he finally yelled. It was the first time he ever raised his voice at you. In that moment, you felt like any hint of the caring man you once loved had faded away forever. The feeling hit you like a truck and you stopped your angry steps, turning around so your back was facing him. You couldn't stop your tears from falling not even if you wanted to, and suddenly, all your anger was replaced with a deep sadness. You weren't even trying to muffle your loud noises, sniffing and sobbing hard. When he saw you like that, he decided to just drop it and pretend like he hadn't seen you kissing that bastard. It felt a sacrifice to him, but he didn't want to make you feel worse than you already did.

For a few moments, Daryl gave you some space, not trying to startle you or make things worse. Then, after a while of silence and almost feeling as if you were alone in the room, you felt a warm breath hitting your ear. Shivers ran down your spine, something you hadn't felt in such a long time.

He studied your reaction, and when he felt it was okay to touch you, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling your back closer to his chest. That made you cry even harder, the sting in your heart getting worse. But at the same time, it felt so good to finally be in his embrace once again. You had missed his strong arms and his warmth so bad, it was a mix of confusion and relief. You wanted to push him away, yell at him, tell him to go, but the second his scent of cigarettes and wet grass filled your nose, you knew you wouldn't be able to. That's how much you missed him, though you weren't ready to asmit it just yet.

“Jus'... lemme talk to ya..." He whispered, placing a soft kiss to the skin behind your ear. And just like that, you melted in his hands. You had no idea what to say, but you were willing to listen to whatever came out of his mouth.

“I jus' wanna know wha' happened. I understand, 'm s'pposed ta know and 'm a dick fer not knowing, but... If ya don' talk ta me, I... I jus' won' know how ta make things righ'.” He was so gentle with his words, so caring. He sounded actually worried, making the situation so puzzling to you. You opened to mouth to speak, but nothing came out of it.

“Ya said sumthin' 'bout me goin' out with other women...” He spoke after a few seconds. “Wha'... Wha' was that all about? I would never...” Daryl didn't really have a way with his words, but you could see he was putting effort into talking to you and trying to fix things. The way he kept you tightly into his hug and his fingers brushed gently against your arm were actually being helpful, and your sobs slowly faded away as your tears stopped falling.

“You don't want me anymore." That's all you managed to speak before you felt tears threatening to fall once again, but you inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, trying to keep calm. You couldn't see his face, but Daryl furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Wha'd'ya mean, hun'?” Those pet names never failed to make you weak in the knees. “I couldn't ever, ever stop wantin' ya. Ever.” He whispered the last word. As he did so, he traveled one hand down your plump belly, caressing it ever so gently. It almost made you want to cry again.

“Then where did you go? Why'd you leave me? Why'd ya even come back?” Even though you stopped crying, your voice was still unstable.

“...'Cuz ya asked me ta and I... I wanted ta respect yer choice. 'M here now 'cuz... I can't live withoutcha. I... need a second chance.” Now, he was the one with a shaky voice. Seeing him like that broke your heart.

“I told you to leave because I didn't wanna force you to be with me. I didn't...” You gulped. “I didn't wanna baby trap you or something like that, I don't know...” You sniffed. Throughout that whole conversation, you kept your arms stiff. But then, you lifted one of them to wipe your nose with back of your hand.

“...I don' get it.” He mouthed. You sighed, finally turning to look at him. After such a long time, looking into his eyes was a remedy to your infirm heart.

“Look, Daryl, I know I'm not in my best shape, alright? I know this whole 'baby' thing changed me, I know that my body ain't the same anymore. All these stretch marks, my face, my belly, I know it all deforms me and...” He just stood there with an unreadable expression. “...And you have every reason not to find me attractive anymore, and I'm just so sorry that I kept pushing you into having sex with me, I should've just given you some space, I...” Those stubborn tears you've been trying to hold back finally get the best of you. “I'm sorry that I snapped at you, I'm sorry that I've been such a bitch, you... You shouldn't see me like this, and... And I-”

Daryl interrupted your babbling nonsense, grabbing your face with both of his hands and pulling you in for what felt like your first kiss. It was probably the most gentle you've ever been kissed in your whole life. You didn't know you craved the warmth of his calloused hands against your wet cheeks that badly until you had it. Everytime a thick tear dared to run down your beautiful face, he quickly wiped it away with his thumbs. After what felt like an eternity, he slowly broke the kiss, but remained with his forehead pressed against yours.

“Yer the most beautiful woman 've ever seen.” His sweet whispers made you finally feel safe after feeling lost for so long. “N there's nuthin', nuthin' in this world tha' could ever change tha'.” You were left speechless as he contradicted you. “If only ya knew how badly I wanted ta touch ya... It's not easy seein' you walk 'round all heavy with ma babies, knowin' I was the one tha' made ya like this n not bein' able to eat you up alive... God, ya look so...” He let out a guttural grunt. “...So fuckin' hot.”

Your mind was rushing. So this whole time he didn't think you looked terrible? He actually... Liked it? In your head, it made no sense.

“If you wanted me so badly, then why did you reject me over and over again?” There was a very obvious hint of hurt in your voice, like you were trying hard to believe his words but your own insecurities were stopping you. He averted his gaze from your eyes for the first ever since you broke the kiss. For a moment, he looked in a contemplative state.

“I got scared.” He admitted. Your eyes narrowed.

“...Of what?” You asked. What could ever make Daryl, the most brave man you know, scared?

“Hurtin' ya.” You tilted your head, still not convinced of his reasons. Your silence served as a cue for him to resume speaking. “Seein' you like this... I jus' wanted ta protect you. I... I never thought I'd ever have a child of my own 'n... I don' know how ta say this, but...” His thumb brushed against your cheek once again. “...I thought ya were doin' this fer me. I thought maybe, I dunno... Maybe you felt like ya had to be there fer me, y'know, sexually...” He was stuttering and struggling to speak his mind. “I felt like if I said yes... I'd be forcin' ya.” He placed a peck on your soft lips. “But I do wan' ya. 'Ve been wantin' ta have ma way with ya fer so long...” He closed his eyes.

“Then what's stopping you?” You challenged him. You almost felt stupid for thinking he didn't want you that whole time and he was actually just trying to protect you. As those words left your mouth, his eyes snapped open, and suddenly, they had a different aura to them. They were darker.

I'm a swift motion, Daryl pulled you in for another kiss, but this time, a more needy one. Though his touch showed he was aching for you, it was still gentle. He didn't wanna hurt you, after all you were still pregnant.

He gently bit down on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth before letting it snap back. His piercing gaze found yours and the way he smirked at you made your body tremble in anticipation.

His hands found the strap of your dress, slightly fidgeting with the tied bow strap over your shoulder just to tease you. And when he finally undid it, your dress slid down your body and onto the floor, revealing your semi-bareness to him.

That's when it kicked again, your self-consciousness taking a hold of you and in a flash, you felt the urge to cover yourself up. Daryl hadn't seen you naked ever since the last time you were intimate together, you two even stopped showering at the same time due to all of the previous misunderstandings. It almost felt like one of those dreams where you're completely naked in school, vulnerably standing in front of the judging eyes of everyone else, even though you were still in your underwear. As you felt your face warming up in embarrasement, you shifted your hands to your swollen breasts and your legs instinctively closed.

Your shy manners didn't go unnoticed by Daryl's attentive eyes. “Hun'...” He brought his hands to your own, softly stroking them until you eased your grasp on your breasts. “Ya can trust me.” He murmured. You took a deep breath and you finally let your hands fall to the side, fully revealing your bra to his sight. A smirk tugged on the corner of his mouth and he looked lost in your beauty.

“God, look at those tits...” He said mainly to himself. The way your breasts were all swollen, all heavy with milk awakened desires within him he didn't even know he had. He reached behind your back to unclasp your bra, removing it and tossing it aside.

He wondered how he was able to deny his attention to those beauties for so long. If he had properly talked to you about his intentions from the beginning, probably none of that misinterpretation would've happened, he thought. But that time wasn't one to mourn, but to cherish. Without warnings, he grasped one of your nipples with his mouth like a starving man while gently but firmly squeezing your other one. You let out a small squeak of pleasure, blushing at his sudden eagerness. Some of your milk leaked, and he was quick to lap at the liquid, wasting none of it. The sweet and mild taste of your essence coated his tongue, sending shock waves of ecstasy all the way down to his cock and in no time, his pants started feeling way too tight. But in that moment, he just wanted to make you feel good and appreciated, so he payed little to no mind to his forming erection.

“Ya taste so fuckin' good.” He groaned against your skin. You were too embarrassed to say anything, but you loved when he talked dirty like that to you, it made your pussy even wetter if that was even possible. He kept his attention to your breasts for a while, teasing, flicking and sucking on them until your nipples felt sore. Then, he made a trail of kisses from your under boob until his lips reached your belly button, slowly sinking down on his knees. He placed soft kisses all over your round belly.

“Look at ya, carryin' ma babies like a good girl.” He looked up at you for a moment, biting his lips at you. You gave him a shy smile, clearly affected by his sweet praising, and he found you so adorable like that. He'd been wanting to put his hands on you for so, so long and he finally had the opportunity to. You looked prettier than ever and he was determined to convince you.

“Let's get ya settled, yea?” And with that, he carefully picked you up bridal style, paying attention not to hurt you. He carried you to the couch, laying you down on it on your back, too eager to go upstairs and to your room, he wanted it there and then. Now, feeling a little more confident thanks to all his praising, your legs instinctively spread themselves out for him, revealing a wet stain on your white panties, clear sign of your arousal.

That sight made a smirk creep on his face, his hands roaming up and down your legs as he pulled them even further apart. “Is this all fer me?” He asked, even though he already knew the answer. You were so visibly surrendered to him, he could see how much you missed him because he shared the same exact longing.

His hands slowly made their way down to your core, his thumb gently rubbing your clit in circling motions over the fabric of your panties. You were so desperate to feel anything that you felt like his most subtle touch could make you cum in the same second. Still, you wanted more. You needed more.

“D-Dar...” You muttered under your breath, throwing your head back as his finger starting working your clit a bit faster and adding a little more pressure. “Wha' is it, doll, hm? Tell me what ya need.” His teasing words only made you more hungry for him. “Mmm...” You protested, struggling to put your desires into words. “C'mon, jus' say the word and I'll give it ta ya.” He encouraged you with the sweetest tone, slowing down his motions against your extremely sensitive clit just to tease you.

“Eat my fucking cunt like you mean it.” You spitted out, your voice all shaky with need, and even you were surprised at your own bold words.

“Don' need ta tell me twice.” He said before pulling your panties to the side in one swift motion and diving into your wetness, quickly starting his assault on your clit and lapping at your folds. He practically buried his face into you, eating you out like it was the last time. Your back arched in that same second and you already felt embarrassingly close to orgasming. He noticed the way you squirmed and moaned for him, grasping his hair with both hands and humping his face, smearing your slickness all over his handsome features.

And he let you use him for your pleasure however you pleased. That night was about you and about making up to all that wasted time. “D-Daryl...!” Your tone was one of warning. You were barely two minutes in but you could already feel the first orgasmic contractions forming in your lower belly. The way you said his name, he knew damn well you were about to make a mess on his face, and he was all in for it.

You threw your head back and let out a loud high-pitched moan as you coated his tongue with your wetness, and all he could do was hum against your sensitive skin, sending vibrations all over your cunt and intensifying the sensation. Despite your first signs of overstimulation, he continued enthusiastically lapping at your juices until you were a quivering mess under his tongue. You had to manually give his head a very gentle push so you could have a break from that intense pleasure. You chuckled at his excitement to please you. If you had ever felt insecure about any of that before, you couldn't remember it.

He lifted his head up, placing tender kisses on your pregnant belly once again, stroking it lovingly. “Ya want me ta fuck ya, darlin'?” He said as he crawled up your body, getting face to face with you. You wrap your arms around his neck, forcing his lips against yours in a sensual dance. “'M takin' that as a yes” He voiced with a hint of playfulness. The thought of being inside you made his cock throb even harder inside his pants, and he knew he just couldn't wait any longer. He reached for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and taking it off. Then, he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pushing it down his thighs alongside with his black briefs just enough to free his cock.

Oh, you missed it so fucking badly. You two used to fuck like rabbits before, and after going 4 whole months without getting dicked down by your man, you were more than desperate to feel him. Now, you finally understood your pregnancy wasn't any type of obstacle for sharing pleasure with him.

You stared down at his now visible erection. He was girthy, and you could feel your cunt stretching out just by looking at him. A small droplet of pre-cum threatened to run down his length, from the tip all the way down to his full balls. When you averted your gaze to his face, you could see he was admiring you while you took in the sight of his cock. Your eyes got all sparkly in anticipation, sharing a knowing look with him. You didn't have to say anything and he was always brushing his tip on your slit.

He gently tapped your clit with his tip, watching closely for your reaction, his smirk not fading away not even for one second. Your pussy was so slippery with your wetness that when he pressed his cock against your slit, it went in with ease.

“Fuck.” You moaned in unison. The feeling of his cock going in for the first time was always one of your favorite parts of fucking Daryl. He tried to hold back a little, still careful not to hurt you since you were pregnant after all, but when you wrapped your legs around his waist, he couldn't help but bury his whole cock inside you in one harsh thrust, yearning loud moans from both of you.

You didn't care at all if it hurt or not, you just needed to feel him inside you. He shut his eyes tight and it was obvious that he was fighting the urge to burst right in that same second. He gritted his teeth and leaned in to press his forehead against yours, slowly starting to move his hips. He wasn't exactly thrusting, it was more like humping his cock inside you, which made you grow more and more impatient. You needed him to pound you.

“P-please, Daryl, just... just fuck me already.” The clear frustration on your voice did it for him, and in no time, he started harshly banging his hips against yours, giving you no time to adjust to the pace. Squelching sounds, your moans and the sound of your skins slapping against each other filled the room in a dirty orchestra. The intense smell of sex made you dizzy.

You were so cock-hungry you could fuck that man for days straight without breaks, and as he gently groped your pregnant belly, you knew he wanted you just as much. You couldn't hold back a smile at the sensation of his palms and fingers gently caressing you, contrasting with his hard thrusts inside your pussy.

It was your favorite whenever he treated you like that, with a mix of tenderness and an urge to absolutely rail you. “Fuck, feels so fuckin' good inside this wet cunt.” The archer almost sounded vulnerable. “'M gunna give ya even more babies, princess.” He whispered, his voice a little more high-pitched than usual. The thought of feeling his warm load inside you again made your mind rush and once again, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your high.

As the pleasure grew more intense, your tight walls clenched around Daryl's thick cock, making his legs tremble as he struggled to keep his composure. “Shit baby, if ya keep squeezin' me tight like tha' 'm not gunna last long.” He admitted through gritted teeth. “Don't hold back, give it to me.” Your encouragement words only fueled Daryl's desires even further.

You felt so full, his thrusts getting deeper and deeper, filling you up to the brim. He was still holding onto your round belly, gently not to hurt you, and when you clenched your cunt around him one last time, he moaned louder than ever before.

“Fuckin' take it!” His whole body was shaking as his orgasm coursed through his body. The sight of him like that was so sexy, so dirty and raw that you couldn't help but squirt all over his cock. You didn't even know you could do that, and Daryl looked just as surprised as you as you drenched his cock and lower belly with your arousal. He buried his length deep inside you one last time as the final spurts of his warm cum coated your insides, keeping that position.

“I love ya, Y/N. Dontcha ever forget that again, woman.” He said, placing sweet little pecks all over your face, making you giggle like a little child. “Yer stuck with me. Both of ya.” His hand never left your pregnant belly that whole time, and now, he gently brushed his thumb on it.

“I love you more.” You confessed, bringing a hand to his cheek to cup it, feeling the rough texture of his salt-and-pepper facial hair against your soft hand. As he slightly shifted his position with his cock still deep inside you, you felt how he was still rock hard and ready for you. After such a long waiting, he wasn't ready to stop just yet.

“Round two?” You asked, already predicting his answer.

“Fuck yeah.”

a/n: hi there!! just passing by to thank you for reading this. i know it's not even close to perfect but it took me 10+ hours to write, so i really appreciate you if you read it this far! as i've said before, i'm a beginner writer, so i'm still on the process of adapting and i'm really thankful for all the support you've been showing me. see ya!

[ilys00ga]

you are my favorite!!!! super happy to know you are taking requests :D also i hope you are doing well♡♡

could i request a yoongi x f!reader possibly where they have a rlly bad argument and make it up and it ends really fluffy? maybe the argument could be over jealusy or this stuff ofc not in a toxic way. Thank you in advance :)

BLOWING SMOKE.

PAIR: yoongi x f reader

TAGS/WARNINGS: established relationship, producer!yoongi, yoongi fucks up real bad, hes lowk an ass in this one sorry xxx, he fixes things tho, misunderstandings with a great amount of miscommunication, reader thinks hes cheating, jealousy, angst, also fluff, a teenie tiny dusty bit of smut implications at the very end, but no smut I promise. that's it I guess?? lmk if I missed something. oh yeah this is probably full of unedited mistakes, just ignore :)

A/N: omg omg first off, THANK U I love u lots 💗 second, this matches the new fic I was already working on so akdjqjsjjs was in the mood for some good angst hehehe...although, I gotta say, this was pretty rushed cz I had a shit ton of things to do (I still do) but I tried to make it as good as I can, I hope u like it 🥹 also, ik u said 'not in a toxic way' but I think I might have gotten carried away? nothing too extreme I hope, but we all fuck up, and yoongi here is not doing any better.

PS. requests are still open! feel free to drop some in my ask box anytime :)

Loving Yoongi was like a field of cotton grass dancing with the wild wind on a fresh late spring day. But being in a relationship with him, much like any other relationship out there, wasn't always a bed of soft petals and a sky of warm sunshine.

“I'm sorry, darling. I have to stay here for another two hours. You can still come over if you want.” That was what he said over the phone, one day, when you asked whether he was free for a dinner date or not. It's been a hectic week for the both of you, two adults trapped in the hectic mess of what we call life. An unsettling bubble formed in your chest. You missed him, so, terribly much. The days went on, and it became harder for you to sit down with him for a genuine conversation or a wholesome meal. The mere thought that your relationship was heading towards one of those bland and colorless stages was heavy on your heart.

His suggestion sounded apologetic enough for you to swallow the pill entirely, so you immediately declared your agreement, grabbed your purse, then left the apartment.

On your twenty-minutes-long walk there, you made sure to grab a bottle or two of wine and some snacks, because, knowing Yoongi, he would let his body devore itself before he would feed himself a proper meal, once he's inside that studio.

Except that, all of your hopes of a hopelessly romantic night at his studio, and that uncomfortable couch he purchased specifically so he wouldn't doze off when he's supposed to work, vanished as soon as you pushed the door open and walked in.

Yoongi never said or did anything to hurt your trust, neither were you the type of lover to shed tears and break glass when they see their partner with another person. But seeing him sitting so close to the female producer you were already familiar with, their chairs almost touching as they fixed their attention on the large computers on top of his desk, that was a sight you weren't ready for. And it wouldn't have been so much of an issue to you if you weren't sitting in the same room with your boyfriend and the woman he used to hook up with on a regular basis before he got with you.

“It's good to finally see you, __.” She gave you a smile. A little, polite and genuine gesture that, in contrast to the smile you mirrored to her, made your stomach flip.

Another hour passed with you staring mindlessly at your phone screen and them doing their thing. You were on the verge of excusing yourself to leave, to maybe catch some fresh air instead of suffocating to death inside that closed space, when the girl finally stood up to leave.

You watched as she gave him a hug, her hand gently rubbing at his shoulder, before she faced you to bid her goodbye and left.

Throughout the entire thing, Yoongi didn’t spare you a glance. His back was the only thing you could see, along with the back of his head, covered with his favorite dark beanie. You thought her departure would soothe your heart and put your anxious mind to rest. That Yoongi would turn around and explain why the hell he was hanging out with her, and not with his usual team members. Except that neither of the above happened.

“I’m done here too, for the day. We can go now.” He said as he stood up from his own chair, stretching his arms and arching his body with a rough groan. You were left wondering whether you were the insane one there. Or maybe he was that blind to the chaos happening in your head at that very moment.

The words were on the tip of your tongue. You could no longer hold them back. They were too strong to be kept hidden deep inside your throat. And so, you cleared your throat and let them speak for themselves. “You never told me you still work with her.”

You paused, taking a deep breath as you anticipated an answer from him, which came rather more lightheartedly than you fancied.

“Oh, I didn't think it was worth talking about.” He said, hovering over the desk to turn the devices off.

“Really?” You tucked the tip of your finger under another one, his usual nonchalance was supposed to sooth you, reassure your heart that he only belonged to you, but it only served to stir something inside your anxious self. “But it's still something, Yoongi..”

“Darling, you were never bothered with who I work with.” He remarked.

“Because you never had history with your usual team members.” Your blunt argument, with all the bitterness it held, took the both of you off guard.

“Is this about what I think it is?” He glanced up at you again, finally catching up on the situation at hand. “Look at me. Are you upset because she was here?”

“Yes I am.. You never mentioned the fact that you still see her everyday. Were you planning on keeping that from me?”

He let out a heavy sigh. “I told you it was never a big deal, baby. That's why I didn't bring it up.”

“Yoongi, it doesn't matter what you think of it. I deserve to know this type of thing.”

He scoffed at that, his attention turning to his stuff as he started gathering them. “Baby, please. I was working. We had a project to do. It's not like I slept with her or something.”

“Did you?”

At the heavy implication of your short question, Yoongi froze in his place, unmoving. His eyes spoke of surprise and pain as he stared deeply into yours, sending a chill down your spine. You blinked, and the sound of crashing almost made you jump when he threw the headphones he was holding carelessly on the desk.

“You think I did?” He asked. Even as his voice was completely empty of amusement, he didn't raise his voice at you. “You think I slept with her?”

“I don't know.” You shrugged. “That's what I'm trying to know.”

Neither of you spoke after that. He continued staring at you, not providing an answer that could satisfy your clenching heart. Instead, and just like every single time the two of you had an argument before that, he faced his desk again and busied himself with his belongings, his movements harsher and rougher than before.

“It's better if you leave now.” He said, his voice disturbingly cold.

You wished he could say anything. Maybe snap at you for being so harsh with your judgment on him, or lay his heart out and tell you the thing you dreaded the most, that he indeed slept with her. But he didn’t. He just faced the other way and did utter a word. And so, you grabbed your purse, phone in your other hand, and walked out of the studio.

Deep in the darkness of your room, you lay on your bed, deep in thought, staring at the ceiling like it could crack open and show you the secret towards a blissfully happy love story to remedy your soul. Your string of thoughts was cut short when noise broke out in your apartment. The sound of the front door being locked and closed again.

You craned your neck to catch a glimpse of the digital clock on top of your nightstand. It was three am.

Having had this scenario happen multiple times throughout the years of your relationship with him, you left your tear stained pillow and followed the source of the noise, your boyfriend in the kitchen.

You found him bent down in front of the open fridge, his back, once again, facing you. If he didn't hear your footsteps against the floor, he definitely heard the soft sniffle you let out as you leaned against the doorframe, you were certain.

“It's three in the morning.” You stated, like it was the most important news you could give him at that very moment. He didn't spare you a glance, settling for a can of beer and pushing the door of the fridge closed with his leg. “You shouldn’t drink at this hour.”

“Good to know you care about me.” He said, his voice calm but dripping with the usual bitter sarcasm he often exercised when he was tense or angry.

You couldn't help rolling your eyes at that. He was really upset. “Can we just talk?”

He flicked the can open with one hand, taking a long gulp of the liquor that left you with a small frown. “Why? So you get to accuse me of cheating again?”

“Yoongi, please-”

“No, __.” He paused, his gaze felt like a freezing flame to your soul. “You feel the way you feel, yeah I get it. But doubting my loyalty like that? Thinking that I could really go out of my way to cheat like it's nothing? What the fuck are you doing?”

His words, coupled with the way he looked at you, felt like a punch to your guts in that very moment. He was right, you knew that. No matter how insecure and threatened you felt back then, no matter how fucked up the thing he did was, cheating shouldn't have been your first conclusion. Especially when you loved and cherished him so deeply. With a trembling voice, you gathered your words and tried to ignore your stinging eyes as they threatened to spill your hidden emotions out. “I... Our relationship has been so dull lately, I was hoping we could spend some time together and catch up, but then I saw her there and I just..”

“Just what, __?” He cuts your speech. “Do you even trust me?”

“I do, of course I do! But you didn’t even talk to me about it, and when I tried to talk, you were all like ‘Oh, it doesn't matter, you're just being dramatic.’”

“That is not what I said.” He hissed.

“Doesn’t matter!-” A sob interrupted your speech, you ran a hand through your hair in frustration. “Can we just- please-”

Your words were cut short when he started walking towards you. You felt his arms engulfing you in a tight embrace, your face finding its place buried into the crook of his neck, where your warm tears touched his soft, milky skin.

“Shh.. I know.” He whispered into your ear, the strong smell of alcohol, carrying a hint of coffee within, filled your senses. Your arms moved on their own, automatically hugged him back. “You know I would never break your trust, right?”

You nodded your head. Something about the softness of his voice, heavy with vulnerability, made your heart crush into pieces. The way he held you, despite the hurt you knew he felt because of you, had a toll on you.

You pulled away, enough to bring your hands up and cup his face. Your teary eyes staring into his weary ones as you spoke. “That was so stupid of me. I'm sorry.”

“I'm the stupid one here, baby..” He turned his face to nuzzle your palm and press a kiss onto its skin. “I should've thought into it. I was so immersed in work, I didn't see how fucked up the entire situation was. Should've paid more attention.”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss on your forehead and letting his lips linger on your skin there for a few more seconds. “I'm sorry, darling. I'm sorry I made you think that lowly of me.”

The gentleness of his gesture and his words made your tears flow with a mind of their own. There was never a time he made a huge mistake and didn't make you feel like the sky might fall apart at the sight of your tears. It only made the guilt heavier on your heart.

He tightened his hold around you, pulling your body flush against his as he let you cry your hearts content out on his skin. You could feel his hand on the back of your head, a silent encouragement for you to nuzzle his neck again. You obliged.

“I can't believe you made me cry at three a.m like this.” You whined, after a long moment of hushed words of love and quiet sobs, and sniffled.

“I'm sorry, darling..” He cooed at you, wiping the tears off of your cheeks with his gentle fingers. The soft expression he had quickly faded into a slight smirk that appeared on his handsome face. “It wouldn't be the first time I do that, though.”

“Hey!” Your hand landed on his shoulder in a light swat. “We're having a moment here! And I still haven't forgiven you, you know!”

He let out a light chuckle, his smirk deepening when he tilted his head and noticed the faint blush on your face. “Worry not, I'll make it up to you. I'm gonna make you cry in a different way, darling.”

“Go away!” You whined again and shoved him away. His suggestive words made your face feel a lot warmer than necessary, but you tried to sound as stern and unaffected as you possibly could, under his gaze. “I'm going to bed. You better not follow me there, you're sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh, no need for the bed, baby.” He ignored your empty threat and rejection, making a quick job of scooping you up in his arms and heading towards the living room. “We have a foldable couch for a reason.”

“It's an expensive couch, you ass!”

[kotoku]

can i req sunday and aventurine with an s/o whos like the opposite of their personality? like for sunday, maybe his s/o is like short tempered and easily triggered while for aventurine, maybe his s/o is like not a risk-taker and stuff

ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ꜱ/ᴏ ᴡʜᴏ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟ ᴏᴘᴘᴏꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇᴍ

pairings - sunday x reader / aventurine x reader

content - reader is gender-neutral/ established relationship/ opposites attract trope

warnings - none

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

↻ In contrast to Sunday’s calm and methodical nature, you are much more expressive with your emotions and follow the flow of things

↻ You’re a spontaneous person, if there is something that has caught your attention, you’d buy it immediately, if you wanted to go somewhere, you would go without a second thought

↺ Your unexpected disappearances would worry your boyfriend to no end, coming home to scattered feathers and a clingy Sunday

↻ There would definitely be some arguments between the both of you, mainly about your reckless and careless behavior which would worry Sunday to no end, on the other hand you’d probably point out his slightly controlling habits which he actively denies…

↺ You’d both apologize to each other and make amends in the end, tuning down the extremities of your behaviors

↻ When the two of you first met each other, I can imagine him taking a bit of a dislike to your personality and vice versa (it’d be an enemies to lovers lol) 

↺ Someone would’ve had to force you two to interact with each other, and the both of you would be pleasantly surprised to see that you both enjoy the same things

↻ The two of you balance each other out, like hot and cold, snow and fire, winter and summer

↺ You help Sunday loosen up a bit, teaching him to let things go and relax while he helps you be more organized, teaching you to manage your emotions healthily instead of immediately lashing out on people

↻ Sunday is your celestial moon and you are his blazing sun

↻ There is a stark difference between yours and Aventurine’s personalities, while he’s quite the risk taker and devious individual, you are a cautious and blunt person, you wear your heart on your sleeve for the world to see

↺ No wonder why it was so easy for Aventurine to befriend and rope you into his antics, you were in for a long and wild ride

↻ You can’t count the amount of times you thought shit was going to hit the fan whenever you got caught up in Aventurine’s schemes, feeling your heart palpitating and breath quickening only to find out that everything was okay

↺ You found yourself almost wanting to hit him whenever he pulled this shit on you, but maybe he would like that

↻ Aventurine enjoys your reaction, always seeking to get some sort of rise or say from you (he really loves your attention huh)

↺ He finds it so easy to read you and what you are thinking of, too bad he uses this to his advantage

↻ Aventurine loves taking you to the casino he frequents just so he can observe your reactions to the game (he’s such a smug asshole to you lol)

↺ You’re always at the edge of your seat when it comes to betting, wondering just how much he’s putting on the line (--and by some miracle he always gets his way, you have no idea how he does it)

↻ Sometimes you find yourself scolding him everytime he takes a huge risk, especially if he gets injured and you need to help patch him up

↺ It feels being genuinely taken care of and worried for, but he basks in your attention so it doesn’t bother him one bit

↺ If he purposely got injured just to get taken care of by you, you’d probably patch him up, punch his arm, and then ice it again because you love him too much 

↻ Sigh, Aventurine sure is the death of you

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

[urrockstar-xe]

precious - j.m x fem!reader

posted nov 27th, 2023 8:14 am

anon asked: hello!! I’m a sucker for a little angst ending with fluff, so could you maybe write a jj maybank x girlfriend where they have a fight right before bed and he goes to sleep on the couch but they can’t sleep without each other/being mad at each other so one of them goes to the other to apologize?

sorry for the wait love :( I hope you enjoy it.

masterlist

wordcount: 0.9k

“It’s like you never learn JJ!” your voice rang in his ears in a similar fashion as his rang through yours

“Learn what, Y/n? That I’m gonna die young anyway? It wasn’t even that fucking bad!” and if this were a cartoon the words would be coming right back out as steam. 

“It’s not like I haven’t done worse alright?” JJ added, frustratedly running his fingers through his hair. “It’s not about that JJ! You could’ve died! I need you around!” It was as if he totally skipped over your last four words as he scoffed, “I get it, I’m an idiot who doesn’t know better are you fuckin done yet? Actually, fuck this, I’m sleeping at JB’s” JJ grabbed his backpack on his way out of your house, not missing your calls for him just ignoring them, as he hopped onto his bike and left your sight in what felt like seconds. 

You didn’t try to conceal the frustration and hurt you felt, all of it spilling out in angry sobs and violent strings of swear words. 

The same stupid argument always stumped you and JJ, no matter how many short apologies and tears you guys go through, the argument of how precious JJ’s life was always took the cake for the biggest challenge in your relationship. 

Yet you still worried about how high he’d get tonight or how much of John B’s beer he’d drink and how safe he’d be even if John B’s was merely a 7-minute walk from yours, you always worried about JJ.

How could you not when he was as reckless as he was? 

A few hours went by of pacing your room, checking your phone for “baby, I love you” apology texts, and pretending not to realize the worried gaze your older brother gave you whenever you left your room to use the restroom, before you realized it was 1 in the morning and you still hadn’t been able to go to sleep, despite having woken up at 6 am for work the previous day. 

With a heavy sigh and eye roll at the realization that you’d have the give in first, you got up, throwing on one of JJ’s old jackets he left and your shoes before leaving out your front door in a rush and practically running to John B’s having memorized the way there.

You accepted the curse of not being able to sleep without JJ by your side and when a half-asleep John B opened his door, you knew he had heard an earful as he let you inside wordlessly, “he’s out back” John B motioned towards the back door, giving you a nod as a silent good luck before moving back to his room. 

You made your way to the back door, hesitating momentarily before grabbing the doorknob and opening it, making your way back out into the cold. You were almost instantly met with the beautiful sight of your boyfriend, lying on the hammock and watching the stars, mindlessly playing with his lighter. 

You wordlessly made your way to him, both you and JJ ignoring the sound of the grass under your sneakers until you sat down on the edge of one of the old lawn chairs, hugging your legs to your chest in an attempt to find warmth. 

“Can’t sleep?” He asked barely above a whisper, a stark contrast to his usual tone. 

“Not without you” You responded, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding when JJ finally looked in your direction. “Me too” 

“I know” he nodded at your words, of course, you knew. 

“C’mere, pretty baby,” JJ said, his voice quiet, tossing his lighter somewhere in the dirt, pretending he wouldn’t have to find it tomorrow. You stood up, almost too fast for your liking before settling into the hammock next to him, gravity pushing you into his side and his arm falling around you seamlessly, or at least you told yourself it was gravity. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you” You whispered into his shoulder, pressing kisses into the fabric of his hoodie, all of your stubbornness flying out the window once his familiar scent filled your nose.

“I’m sorry I yelled back, and for being an idiot” JJ whispered, breathing as if he was trying to learn how. “You’re not an idiot, J” Your fingers instinctively played with the drawstrings of his neck, unknowingly bringing a sense of comfort to your boyfriend. 

“I just,” you sighed before continuing, cursing at yourself for how you teared up. “I just wish you realized how precious you are to me” You whispered, barely audible. 

But JJ heard it clear as day. 

“I’m sorry-” He started but you cut him off, “You can’t be sorry for something like that, you weren’t taught any better.” You choked out, not missing the way his lips found your hair when he realized you were crying, comforting kisses hitting your hairline. 

“If I could go back in time and teach you how much you were worth I would in a heartbeat” Your words made JJ pause his actions, his arm tightening ever so slightly around you. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, JJ” You shrugged as much as you could without disrupting the hug. 

“Can’t even sleep without you” You mumbled through a quiet laugh, earning one in return from JJ, alongside a few sniffles. 

“We’re good right?” he asked quietly, gently running his fingers up and down your arm. 

“As if this would be the thing that makes us break” I scoff, earning another laugh. 

A few minutes of comfortable silence passed before JJ spoke once more, “Can we go inside? Freezin’ my balls off out here”

[delirious-donna]

His Hands [Nanami Kento]

an: it's been a hot minute since I wrote for him, but with the latest developments and the insane amount of Kento content on my dash, I couldn't help myself. This is a love letter to his hands...

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: hair pulling, manhandling, light choking, mark marking, daddy kink, dirty talk, mating press, doggy (all implied), some comfort and fluff because he deserves it

Masterlist

Nanami Kento is not a white knight.

He is not a righteous man, nor is he morally virtuous. Nanami makes no qualms about expressing what matters most to him – his time, his students and most importantly, you. If that means he has to stray into the murky grey areas of ethics then so be it. If that means there is collateral damage in ensuring the safety of his precious priorities, it matters not. However, Nanami Kento is a good man.

Fatigue has been his constant companion these past few weeks. His eyes are weary and less focused than usual, his jaw tight with seemingly endless worry and his hair tousled as if he had run fingers through it time and again. You didn’t know the exact cause of his current demeanour, all you did know was that it was your job to relieve it, at least temporarily.

Hazel eyes met yours. A tight smile faint on his lips whilst you moved from being tucked into his side to straddling his lap. Kento’s head fell back against the couch, his gaze bouncing between your eyes, simply content to observe whatever it was you were up to. Your fingers delicately wrapped around his wrist, brushing against the heavy weight of his timepiece and lifting it to your chest. His hands were rough, callouses built up along the edges of his fingertips and palm through extended training and workouts that would see him dripping in sweat.

“Y’know… I’ve always loved these hands.” An exploratory finger ran over his knuckles, the skin shiny and new from where they had not long been split open. It wasn’t an exaggeration–you did love his hands and what they could do.

An amused huff was his reply, fingers flexing in and out of a loose fist whilst you continued your journey over the wide expanse that was his hand—traversing the depths of his life line only to circle down and stroke over the pad of his thumb. How many times had you helped to patch him up after being injured in the line of duty? Too many. Bloody rags filled the bathroom sink and the smell of antiseptic stung your nose, but you’d rather do it yourself than let him tend to himself. There was no point in telling him you worried, he knew that, instead you filled the silence with the mundane moments of your day to distract him from the stark contrast of his horror-filled one.

“They’re strong and they keep me safe,” you muse almost to yourself. Unbeknownst to you, Kento’s eyebrows lift. His eyes sharpen, throwing off the dregs of tiredness to watch more fixedly at you touching him with a reverence he didn’t believe he deserved. Would you still love them if you knew what he had done with them? Of the violence they had been a part of, the injuries and deaths he had inflicted with them. As if you didn’t already know…

“Sweetheart–” The argument he had readied fell away when you lifted his hand higher, towards your throat. His thick fingers could feel the steady beat of your pulse, no jump in fear of danger, only complete trust. He swallowed; the bob of his Adam’s apple near painful.

Your breathing sped up, knees shuffling forward to bracket his lean hips and pressing your delicate skin further into his careful grasp. Memories rose to the surface of your mind like stones skimming across a peaceful lake, rippling outward until the phantom sensations of days gone by washed over you.

The searing burn of Kento’s large palm swatting at your soft ass; whether in encouragement when your thighs tired of riding him to completion or in admonishment for some very deliberate attempts at stealing away his attention in the midst of his paperwork.

The gentle grip of your ankles when he folded your thighs flush against your chest to be able to plunge deeper into your sopping cunt. His tender hold was the perfect counterbalance to how savagely he was splitting you open. Lazy circles of his thumbs against your delicate ankle bones all whilst you ringed his cock with thick cream and his pelvis smacked wetly against you.

The prickle of your scalp at the sudden yank at the roots of your hair. That deliciously big, thick hand that you adored wrapping your hair so tightly into a makeshift ponytail that you had no choice but to rear back. Warm breath fanning your cheek and neck, the deep rasp of Kento’s words caressing your ear despite how depraved his words were. “Fuck… that’s it, baby… Taking Daddy’s cock like a champ… Let me see that arch… Look at this pretty pussy sucking me back in…”

Nanami had a way of handling you exactly as you needed at any given moment. He wasn’t afraid you’d break like some fragile doll, knowing that you more than enjoyed his manhandling. He could sense how turned on it made you when he would scoop you up like you weighed nothing. Taking your weight into his arms when he fucked you against the hallway wall in those moments he simply couldn’t wait to reach the bedroom. You were his pliant little cocksleeve. His perfect pussy.

With the rough came the smooth. How tenderly his fingers would coast down the length of your spine in the warmth of the morning, stopping to admire the curve of your waist, the flare of your hips and the ripple of your backside when he squeezed it lightly. 

The soft touches against the bruises he had left the night before on your waist and hips. Each one a mark of his possession that he would never fail to become aroused by. The marks of his fingertips, the indent of his teeth on the swell of your sensitive inner thigh. If he were an animal he would scent mark you like the dog he sometimes felt like, rub himself all over you until you were bathed in his musk.

Interlocked fingers and tickles on the palm of your hands. The reassurance that you were by his side when you strolled the sidewalk together, Kento always nearest the traffic and the ability to tug you close with the flick of his wrist.

“I don’t care what these hands might have done to those that deserved whatever fate they befell. All I know is that I love them, and there isn’t anyone I would trust more to hold my heart.”

He nodded, and you knew that would be the best you would get in the form of agreement to your words. The coiled muscles in his forearm tightened, tendons contracting and his fingers squeezing a fraction tighter atop your carotid arteries. You hummed in contentment, eyelids growing heavy and his hand slipped free of your loose hold to rest over your heart whilst the other pressed between your shoulder blades to bring you to his lips.

So, no, Nanami isn’t a white knight but he is the best man you’ve ever been fortunate enough to meet. You would help him face whatever demons were lurking nearby, and with your support and unconditional love, maybe–just maybe–he’d make it back to you in one piece. 

Heaven knows he deserved some time off.

[dorotheataylor]

Sneezes with kisses

Pairing- Nanami Kento x Reader

Summary- What’s better than to have your husband take care of you once in a while? Especially when you’re sick.

Warnings- FLUFF OMG, domestic vibes, Kento is such a husband material (omg i love him sm), reader annoys nanami but he’s whipped for her, please I need Nanami in my life😭, my poor english as always :p

Word count- 750+

A/N- OMG I LOVE NANAMI SO MUCH I CANT DESCRIBE IT IN WORDS. Also here’s the fic for Nanami Kento as it got the most votes from the poll I posted monthsss ago (im late as alwayssss). I’m so sorry this is shorttt but I promise to make it up. I got lazy :p. Enjoy the domestic bliss y’all! This is totally not a self-insert fic.

“Love, you need to lay down-”

“No-”

“You need to rest-”

“I’m fine, Ken-” Sneeze!

“See? Listen to me for once in your life and lie down.” Nanami sighed, shaking his head at your stubbornness.

“Fine.” You huffed and laid down on the bed, while Kento arranged the pillows beneath you for you to feel comfortable.

Nanami looked at you for a few moments. You were really stubborn and reckless when it came to your health. After watching you sneezing and almost losing your consciousness because of your fever, he had to practically force you to lie down and get rest. You tended to overwork yourself almost every time, much to his dismay.

“What?” Sneeze. Damn, you really needed to get better soon.

“Nothing, just watching how stubborn you are.” Nanami sighed, his expressions turning soft. “Love, you need to start taking care of yourself.”

“I’m fine, Ken. It’s just a little cold.” You shrugged, before sneezing again.

At this point, Kento Nanami was so done with you downplaying your sickness every time. Kento loved you, he really did, but sometimes your habits and actions made him want to pull out his hair.

Nanami first met you when he was still a grade lower than his current. You had just joined the Jujutsu Society and were paired up with him for your first ever mission. And when you had gotten injured, Nanami was the one who took care of you because he held himself responsible for your injuries. And ever since then, you became good friends and eventually lovers.

You were always the type to get excited over little things and had a loud personality, just like one of your colleagues Satoru Gojo and totally contrast to Nanami's personality. But still somehow you two got along and here you were.

You sneezed again, your face turning a bit red from the cold. "Ugh I hate being sick!"

Nanami sighed again. "That's why you're going to take a few days off and rest. Your body needs it, love. You can't overwork yourself."

You sighed and looked up at him, your expressions softening. "But Ken, I can't just sit at home in the bed while you are out fighting those damn curses." You whined.

Kento rolled his eyes. "Love, sitting at home in the bed for a few days isn't the end of the world."

"But-"

"No buts. You're staying at home for a few days. End of discussion." Nanami said a bit sternly, leaving no space for arguments.

You pouted and Kento could feel himself melting a bit seeing your expressions. He sighed. "Would it make you feel better if I took a day off too? I'll prepare you a nice ginger honey tea and warm bath. How does it sound?"

Your eyes lit up at his words and you immediately smiled, your pouty expressions no longer seen. "I'd love that, Ken. It's been a while since we spent some quality time together."

Kento smiled, something he did only with you around, and leaned down to kiss on your forehead. "Rest. I'll bring you something warm."

As he was about to stand up, you pulled him back down with his arm and kissed him softly, smiling against it. Kento didn't hesitate to kiss back, another one of his favourite things to do with you.

He didn't know how he got so lucky, having such a wonderful woman as his wife, loving him through everything. He didn't deserve you, really.

You pulled away and grinned, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Now we're both sick. Meaning another two days off. And more cuddles! So lay down with me."

Nanami rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile at you, your cheekiness being one of the many things he loved about you.

He got under the covers beside you, wrapping his arms around you as you rested your head on his chest. He kissed your head before whispering, "I love you."

You smiled, these three words coming from his mouth never failing to make your heart flutter. You looked up at him with that adoring gaze you always had for him and whispered back, "I love you too," before burying your face back into his chest.

And as they lay together, Nanami couldn't help but sigh in contentment. He loved such moments, having the love of his life in his arms and her saying she loved him. He'd do anything just to have this domestic bliss with you.

Maybe you falling sick wasn't so bad after all.

[redheadspark]

can i have benedict bridgerton x reader prompt #24

A/N - This is great for Benedict, thanks for requesting this

Pebble

Summary - After an argument, you think of the worst. Benedict, however, proves you wrong.

Warnings - Angst with a hint of fluff at the end.

You hated this, seeing the door shut in front of you.  It was a clear sign that your significant other who was on the otherside of the door was still mad.  At least to you it was a sign.

You and Benedict rarely fought, and when you did it would be something very small and mundane.  Nearly a small spat really and nothing else to worry about, which was clear evidence of your marriage and your love for one another.  You two deeply loved each other, going through your own trials and tribulations as a couple before and after your marriage.  

But this, this scared you.

Benedict rarely fought with you, it was not in his nature.  He had an aloof soul that was a contrast to your own stubbornness.  It was not new, you need to be right from time to time.  A constant struggle on your end since you would get yourself in trouble from time to time as a young lady.  But Benedict never saw that as a bad thing, he saw the true sweetness that you had and the love you had for him.  You would always reel in your emotions and your hard-headedness when it would get too far.  Benedict was always your anchor, making sure you didn’t go overboard or too far.  You found that to be a blessing, a true blessing in your life.  

So now that you and Benedict had a fight, and you felt like the worst wife on the planet. 

You were about to tap on the door with your knuckles, thinking of the worst and that Benedict was still fuming at you for how you were going down his throat and spraying him with your words.  Your heart was pounding, and your head was replaying all the nasty things you said to him that you knew weren’t true and were all lies.  

Yet suddenly, the door was thrown open and Benedict stood in front of you.

His eyes were wide and almost calm, no longer looking angry as he did moments before.  He actually looked rather calm and collected, which threw you off as he scanned your face.  You were suddenly overwhelmed with all that was said, all of the mean things that came out of your mouth, and all of the resentment that was festering inside of you that was unlashed on your kind and loving husband.  

Within a second, you were crying and hiding your face in your hands.  

“Darling,” You heard him say, then wrapping you in his arms and tucking you into his arms.  You breathe him in as you cried, the tears shitting his shirt while his own fingers were rubbing along your shoulders and upper back.  This was not what you expected from your husband, yet again you were expecting him to reprimand you which was not in his nature at all.  But for him to hug you, to make you feel safe as you wept in guilt, it surprised you and scared you at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” you hiccuped in his chest, feeling him kiss the top of your head as you were now clinging onto him and shaking from the tears, “I-I-I didn’t m-m-mean any of it—“

“It’s okay,” he hummed against your head, you freezing in his hold as his voice was sounding so calm and sure.  It shocked you to hear that from him, making you look up from your spot and see him look down at you with fondness in his eyes.  

“I said…all of those things to you!” You tried to explain to him, knowing you were in the wrong in the fight, “None of it was true, and you didn’t deserve any of it,”

“My love,” He cooed, leaning down to frame your face in his hands,  The tears on your cheeks and the wide eyes you were giving him, Benedict could see the pain and sense it.  You were always so strong and confident in who you were and in how you carried yourself.  But that also came at a price with your hardheadedness and need to be right constantly.  It was not what you wanted to inflict on your husband, the one person who showed you true love. 

Yet you did, and it felt beyond terrible.

“It’s in the past now, okay?” He asked you calmly, brushing away the tears with his thumbs and giving you a sweet smile, “I know you never meant any of those words, and I know this fight we had is nothing we cannot put behind us.”

“Even after—“ You were about to question him some more, not understanding how he could let it go and not be angry with you.  But he silenced you with a kiss, a soothing kiss that made your mind go blank.  He had that way with you when he would kiss you, able to let you get out of your head for a brief moment. It was one of the great things you adored about Benedict, his way of making you feel loved with a simple kiss.  And even then, when you were feeling low while wearing a tear-stained dress and having a battered heart, Benedict never walked away from you.

He pulled away and nuzzled your noses together, his eyes still so soft with him and his face along your jawline feeling beyond delicate like he was holding a jewel, “I love you far too much to let an argument stop us,” 

His selfless and caring heart was far too massive, and to hear he was willing to forget about the fight, to let it float away in the wind and no longer fester in it, made you love him all the more. You considered yourself so lucky to have him love you, to feel that love every day when you two would fall asleep in each other’s arms.  There were more positive days than negative, and Benedict only proved it now letting a fight simply evaporate and not fester.

“I think we should turn in for the night,” he explained to you, though you rose a brow to him.

“What about our dinner with your family?” You asked, seeing him shrug as he laced your fingers together lovingly.  

“I’m sure my mother won’t mind us missing one family meal, we can always go next week.  Besides, I would rather be with the love of my life and enjoy my evening with her,” He explained, seeing you finally smiling for the first time that night. Benedict showed you how to not let a single argument or fight to rip your love apart or make you think the worst.  Deep down you knew that he still loved you, that he knew you still loved him.

This was merely a small pebble in a river, not a boulder.

The End 

May Prompt Session

[fluentmoviequoter]

Grumpy, Grumpier, and a Cat

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x grumpy!(kinda)grunge!reader

Summary: You and Tim are on a holiday vacation when your duo of grumpy and grumpier gets an addition just in time for Christmas.

Warnings: mostly fluff, playful arguments, one murder joke

Word Count: 1.3k+ words (sorry it's shorter than some of the others!)

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

“Don’t touch me,” you grumble.

Tim pulls his hand away from your leg and shakes his head. “They look fine,” he replies.

You stick your tongue out of the corner of your mouth to focus as you drag the nail polish brush along the side of your pinky. As soon as you put the cap back on the bottle, Tim lays his hand on your leg and changes the channel, turning off the murder mystery show that you solved fifteen minutes ago to watch the end of a game.

“So?” you ask, holding up your hands.

Tim looks over and nods. “Black, like usual.”

You sigh and extend your legs, stretching them across Tim’s lap.

“Grumpy today, aren’t we?” Tim asks lightly.

“Which isn’t different than yesterday, or the day before that,” you add, turning your head to look at Tim rather than the game.

“Do you know what today is?”

You shrug, and Tim says, “It’s almost our two-year anniversary.”

“We should dress up,” you reply. “Gomez and Morticia?”

“Any excuse not to smile,” Tim says, clicking his tongue to hide his smile.

“You’re just mad because I make you smile,” you point out.

“Pathetic,” Tim mumbles at the television.

“Could’ve told you that. Home Alone comes on in five minutes.”

“Are you serious?”

You meet Tim’s stare and counter, “It’s a kid torturing intruders, what’s not to like?”

Tim sighs, but he tugs your pajama-clad legs farther into his lap. His pants match yours, but his Dodgers sweatshirt is a stark contrast to your black tank top.

“Tim,” you call. He hums, clicking through the channels to find the movie. “It’s snowing.”

Tim looks up, leans over your legs to see out of the darkening window, and his eyes widen when he sees the flurries falling onto the forest floor. It had been his idea to get away from the city for a bit, and when you found this secluded cabin in the northern Los Angeles National Forest, it was an easy decision.

“Excuse me… May I… Is your mother home?” the officer in the movie asks.

You listen to the movie, but your focus is on the snow outside. As the wind picks up and the snowfall grows heavier, you smile. After two years together, Tim knows you well. He knows what you like to wear, your favorite food, all the things that make you grumpy, and the few things you love. Though Tim knows you love him, even when you don’t always show it very well, he also understands that being in love doesn’t automatically mean that you’re happy all the time.

“Hey, let’s go outside for a bit,” you say as Kevin realizes that he’s been left home alone.

Tim begins to argue, then sees the way your eyes light up as you turn toward him and offers his hand to help you stand. You grab your jacket as you exit the sliding glass door onto the snow-covered porch. After you lay your jacket on the snow, you at Tim sit side-by-side on the edge of the porch to watch the snow. He lays his arm around your bare shoulders but doesn’t comment on your lack of a jacket, even as he shakes his head.

Snow begins to coat the ground as the wind howls and flurries thicken into thick sheets of white blanketing the green forest. Leaning your head against Tim’s shoulder, you are content to watch the world around you turn white and forget about everything else. But the peace is soon disturbed.

You straighten from Tim’s side as a strange noise, like a sharp Ree-ow, comes from the trees. Tim’s arm slips from your shoulders as he stands on the snowy step. He looks down at you before searching the tree line. Quietly, you stand behind him but can’t see anything moving in the dark other than the falling snow.

“We should look,” you murmur. “It could be a hurt animal.”

“Or someone coming through the trees,” Tim argues. “I’ll check.”

He steps off the porch, and you roll your eyes before walking the other way. You each start out the outer boundary of the yard and meet in the middle, but there’s nothing to see. Tim shrugs as you shake your head, so you turn back toward the cabin.

“Maybe the abominable snowman got an early start this year,” you joke. “That or we’ll get murdered in our sleep.”

Tim doesn’t comment on your dark joke, but he stops suddenly, and you keep your eyes on him as you do the same. He gestures toward the porch with his hand. Turning, your eyes widen, and you laugh once before moving carefully.

“Hey there,” you murmur. “I don’t want to scare you, buddy.”

The black cat curled up on your jacket raises its head slightly, then burrows further into the warm fabric. You reach the steps and gently lower your hand. As you pet its smooth black coat, brushing stray snowflakes away, it vibrates beneath your touch with happy purrs.

“You just need a nice home, huh?” you ask it.

“No,” Tim interjects. “It needs to go back where it came from.”

You look over your shoulder, and the moment your eyes meet Tim’s, he closes his eyes and sighs. He can’t put up a fight, even if he wanted to, because he’s too invested in you and helping you be happy to deny you of something that brings you joy, especially this close to the holidays.

“It’s Christmas, Tim,” you remind him. You pull the cat against your chest, rubbing its side as it nuzzles its head beneath your chin, and ask, “Please, can the cat stay in the cabin with us so I can take it home? He needs it.”

Tim nods, melting faster than snow in Los Angeles. “Just be careful,” he requests. “We don’t know where it came from.”

“But he’s just a sweet baby,” you whisper to the cat before kissing its head.

“We should go inside,” Tim suggests, grabbing your jacket and eyeing the cat.

“I won’t let him steal all of my attention,” you promise.

Tim huffs as he opens the patio door, and you lift your chin for a kiss before you enter. Inside, you set up a small, warm bed for your new pet before returning to your seat beside Tim. He pulls you against his side as you resume the movie.

As the intruders fail to get through Kevin’s traps in Home Alone, your cat rises from its bed, stretches, and runs across the room to join you on the couch. He curls up between your leg and Tim’s, and you look down at him.

“He needs a name,” you murmur.

“Skellington,” Tim says without hesitation.

You look up at him with furrowed brows, but he only shrugs and continues watching the movie. It’s a good name, you think.

“Hot chocolate,” you whisper suddenly.

“He’s not brown,” Tim says.

“No, not for his name,” you reply. “I want hot chocolate.”

Tim nods but doesn’t move away from you or the cat.

“I think Skellington is a good name,” you decide.

“Maybe he should be Coal.”

“Coal is only for bad boys, and Skellington is good.”

“The Grinch, then.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be making hot chocolate?”

“You’re the one that wants it,” Tim argues.

“Help me out, Skellington.”

“I named the cat. You make the hot chocolate.”

You glare at Tim, but the longer you hold his stare, the less grumpy you get. As you begin to stand, Tim beats you to it, and waves as you complain about him arguing for no reason.

“What are we going to do with him, Skellington?” you whisper.

The cat slaps your left hand, and you answer, “I don’t think we’re quite ready for that.”

Tim listens from the kitchen, and fixes your hot chocolate exactly as you like, and mumbles, “Maybe we are.”