#and let's hope that nothing exciting happens in my absence

[daydreaming-nerd]

You Want a Baby? (Bat Boys x Female! Reader)

Based off of multiple resquests... and by all means request more of this shit. My Ruhn asks have been kind dry. Would hate for the frat pack to run a train on the reader...

AN: You guys I spent so much time on this I hope it lives up to expectation because this is my kind of thing.

Summary: It's the perfect storm, you're ovulating, all your mates happen to be home and they all want to see you pregnant with their child.

Warnings: Double penetration, breeding kink, size kink, possessive mates, Over stim, literally so many things I'm probably forgetting

Word count: 3738

It was that time of the month, well not THAT time. 

Fae periods were a bitch, that much was true. But fae ovulating? It was a whole different thing. The need to be touched, to be filled, was excruciating. Ever since I had found my mates, three of them to be exact, it was like all those sensations had been heightened. Every time I ovulated, all three of my mates couldn't be present. 

The first time Rhysand was meeting with Tarquin leaving only Cassian and Azriel to fuck me senseless. The next time around it was just Azriel to keep me sated. One of the most memorable times was last year when it was just Rhys and Cassian to help. However, I patiently waited for a day when all three mates would be here to take care of me, a day I secretly hoped would be today. 

I woke up this morning to an empty bed and a note that said they had all gone to Windhaven to check on the Illyrian camps. I didn’t mind their absence too much until later that afternoon when I felt my body start to sweat with need. I went to the bathroom to strip off my clothes, leaving me only in the black lingerie that Azriel had bought me for solstice last year. I couldn’t help but admire myself, running my hands down my body. It wasn’t until then that I realized what was going on, I was ovulating. 

The boys were in Windhaven which meant there was a possibility that they could all be here by tonight. But with the tensions in the Illyrian camps high, I knew it was most likely a long shot. So I spent the day dancing around the townhouse in nothing but my lingerie, loving the feeling of the fresh air on my skin. As the sky got darker I realized my mates weren’t likely to come home. 

I made my way upstairs to our oversized bed and tossed myself on top of the covers. I tried to sleep and push all thoughts of Rhysand’s hands, Azriel’s tongue and, Cassian’s cock from my mind. I was unsuccessful, and ended up finding myself writing all over our shared bed, begging for any kind of friction the sheets offer me. That’s how the boys found me, squirming around our bed in nothing but my lingerie. 

“Well, what do we have here?” Cassian drawled, leaning against the doorway.

I sat up straight, trying to act like I wasn’t about to reach a hand down my panties just seconds ago. 

“I told you both,” Azriel said smugly, walking into the room with Rhysand in tow. 

“Told them what?” I ask bringing my knees to my chest in a lame attempt to cover myself.

“I told them that you were ovulating today,” Azriel smirked. “I’ve been tracking your cycle since I got left out last time,” he looked to Cass and Rhys with a death glare. 

“We got back from Windhaven a few hours and decided to get a drink at Rita’s,” Rhysand explained, stalling towards where I sat on the bed. “We were talking about you.”

“You were?” I ask, sensing the seriousness in Rhysand’s voice. 

“Oh yes we were little one,” Cassian laughs. 

“We were talking about how amazing you would look pregnant,” Rhysand explained, his voice like liquid sex. 

“R-Really?” I say, not trusting my own voice. 

“Yeah,” Cassain answered, taking a step toward me.  “We think we're ready for a baby.” 

“Only if you’re ready though,” Rhys assured me. 

My heart skipped at their words. The idea of carrying any one of their children excited me. I couldn’t lie, I had been thinking about it since my last cycle. 

“What do you think, little one? Gonna let us put a baby in you tonight?” Azriel drawled, leaving a kiss on the shell of my ear. 

I couldn’t even speak, all the intelligent words leaving my brain. All I could think about was how feral the fae were when trying to conceive. My legs would’ve fallen apart if it wasn’t for my arms holding them together. I nodded my head, still unable to think. 

A collective growl filled the room as Azriel grabbed my arms and stood me up in the center of the room, leaving me on display for each of my mates. They closed in on me instantly and I had to crane my neck up to meet each of their gazes. Cassian’s hand slid under the strap of my bra inspecting me thoroughly. 

“Which one of you bought her this little set?” Cassian said, slipping the strap of my bra off my shoulder while Rhysand worked on the opposite strap. 

“I did,” Azriel said, rubbing circles into my hips as he left open mouth kisses on my shoulders. 

“Well thank you Az,” Rhys smirked, unclasping my bra. 

My body felt like it was on fire from three sets of hands roaming up and down it. Even if I closed my eyes I could easily tell who touched me where. The sensation of it all had me tossing my head back on Azriel’s chest, trusting him to support my body. He grasped my hips tightly to keep my knees from buckling as Cassian and Rhys stared at my breasts now free of the tight black lingerie.

“Look at those perfect tits Az,” Rhysand drawled. 

I felt Azriel’s large hand drift up my torso and to my neck pulling me against his body even more so I could feel his hard cock pressed up against my back. His hand on my throat gently pushed my head to look at him as he said back to Rhysand

“They are perfect,” he smirked, craning his neck down to capture my lips in his. 

“And soon they’ll be full of milk,” Cassian pointed out with a smirk, swiping a calloused thumb over my nipple.

Rhysand bends his head down to take one of my aching nipples into his mouth sucking it taut. The gesture catches Cassian’s attention and he leans down to give the same treatment to the other side. The sensation has me arching my back aching to be closer to them. I feel Azriel’s hands grip my hips and yank me against his body again. His hand comes to grip my throat once more as he sticks his tongue down my throat earning a moan from me. I feel Cassian’s lips pull off my tit with a pop as he watches me and Azriel. 

“Gods sometimes I forget how tiny she is,” Cassian drawls running his hands up and down my sides. “Look at her with Az she’s like half his size.” 

Rhys stops his menstrations on my other breast to see what Cassian is talking about, “She’s practically half all our sizes Cass,” Rhys chuckles. 

“Gods I just wanna toss her around like a little doll,” Cassian curses. 

“Do it,” Azriel smirks, pulling his lips from mine. “You know how much she loves it.” 

Cassian says nothing before picking me up by my hips effortlessly and tossing me onto the bed earning an excited squeal from me. 

“Told you,” Azriel beamed with male pride. 

Cassian stalked towards me with Rhys and Azriel hot on his heels and I started moving up the oversized bed towards the headboard. 

“Oh no you don’t,” he smirks, grabbing my ankles and yanking me down the bed. I wait patiently watching Cassian untie the leathers of his pants, my mouth nearly falling open as his large cock springs out. “Come here baby,” he smiles and I eagerly sit up and lick the tip of his cock. 

I looked up at him through my lashes donning my most innocent expression as I took as much of him as I could in my mouth. The rest I pumped with my hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Azriel and Rhys fisting their cocks at the sight of me sucking Cassian off. 

“Good fucking girl y/n,” Cassain moaned tossing his head back in ecstasy. 

I reveled in the salty taste of him, the feeling of every single vein in his cock massaging my tongue. I would never get tired of this, of pleasing my mates.  Cassian pulled me off him and pushed my upper half down on the mattress. My panties are ripped off and discarded somewhere in the room. There goes that set. 

“Stop Cass, make sure she’s ready, I don’t want to tear her,” Rhysand tells Cassian, the voice of a High Lord making its appearance. 

Cassian bends down to inspect my pussy, running a finger through my folds to find me absolutely drenched. “Oh she’s ready alright,” he smiles. “God baby your pussy is so fucking tiny. It’s a miracle you can take us so well.” 

“Cass please,” I whine, nearly coming undone at his words.

Cassian starts pushing his cock in me and the stretch has me backing away from him subconsciously. He grabs my hips and pulls me back towards him, pinning me to the mattress. I had been their mate for a while now but every time they entered me I still felt the stretch. Cassian was right, I was half their size, was a miracle I could take them. 

Cassian started trusting in me at a fast pace and the sound of our skin slapping filled the room. To my right and left Azriel and Rhys continued to stroke their cocks and as much as I longed to put them both in my mouth, Cassian had me in such a state of pleasure I couldn’t focus on anything else. 

“Fuck Cass look at her belly,” Azriel practically moaned. Cassian’s eyes snapped to my stomach where he could see the bulge from his cock thrusting into me. I moaned at the sight. 

“Yeah, you like that baby?” He smirks, leaning over to capture my lips in his. His pace speeds up and within seconds he’s cumming inside of me. 

Cassian pushes his cock in me a couple of times, his attempt at burying his seed deep inside me. He pulls out soon after and I whine at the sudden emptiness. 

“That’s the one that’s gonna get her pregnant,” Cassian beams with male pride, his cock already hardening. 

“Pfft, you wish General.” Azriel scoffs positioning himself between my legs. 

He pushes in slowly and I cry out at the stretch once more. Each glorious inch of him brings immense pain and pleasure. 

“Shhh be a good girl and take it all,” Azriel coos until his hips are flush with mine. “That’s a girl.” he moans as he begins fucking me hard. 

My mind goes to mush almost instantly and the moans coming out of my mouth are damn near feral. The need to be fucked and filled by each of my mates runs so deep in my veins. My hands claw and scrape and find Azriel’s forearms as he slams his hips into me, seeking out his own pleasure. 

“Az please let me cum, I-I’m so c-close,” I mewl, each word hard to get out. 

“Not yet baby, you don’t get to cum until we all have a load in that little pussy,” Rhysand drawls, pumping his cock. “Speaking of, step aside Az I’m not gonna last much longer.” 

“No, I’m not done with her yet,” Azriel growls, his possessive side coming out. 

“You think I can fit in there with you then?” Rhysand asks. 

“Now this I gotta see,” Cassian jests. 

The thought of two cocks fucking my pussy at once has my eyes glazing over and my mouth falling open like I’m in some sort of subspace. 

“I can take it,” I choke out between Azriel’s thrusts. 

“Pick her up Az,” Rhys says, his voice practically dripping with lust. 

Azriel doesn’t stop his minstations as he wraps one of his arms around me, lifting me off the bed. My arms wrap around his neck as my forehead bumps his and he stares me down as he fucks me mid-air.  

“Good girl,” he rasps, proud of how well I’m taking him.

The next thing I know he’s lying me down again, Rhysand’s warm chest replacing the mattress. His hands wander up and down my sides trying to soothe my nerves as Azriel stops moving. 

“Alright little one take a deep breath for me,” Rhys instructs and I can feel him lining his cock up at my entrance. 

I do as I’m told, taking the deepest gulp of air possible, excited for what comes next. The second I let my breath go I feel Rhys pushing his cock into me aside Azriel’s. The stretch is more than any I’ve ever felt before but the sounds escaping Rhys and Azriel’s mouths make it so worth it. Once Rhys is brushing my cervix along with Azriel tears prick my eyes and Cassian is kneeling before me in an instant. 

“Shhh breathe baby,” Cassian coos, glancing down to where both his brothers' cocks are seated inside my pussy. “Fuck, you’re being such a good girl. Just gotta take two more loads and then we’ll let you cum alright?” 

All I  can muster is a shallow nod as Rhys and Azriel begin thrusting in tandem. The constant feeling of fullness has me feeling numb while feeling everything all at once. I arch my back further and Rhys runs a hand down my hip to hold me in place so that he doesn’t slip out. My eyes glance to Azriel who has his eyes fixated on the bulge in my stomach being made by both his and his High Lord’s cock. All the while, Cassian brushes the sweat and hair away from my brow whispering praises to me. 

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” Rhys groans, the vibrations of his chest skittering down my back. 

“Me too,” Azriel moans and within seconds I feel his sperm coating my walls just like Cassian’s. 

Azriel cumming triggers Rhys to cum as well and even though I can still feel Azriel, the load my High Lord put in me is equally as distinct. 

“Holy fuck,” Azriel groans pulling out of me inspecting his work. My breaths are so ragged and my vision so blurred that I can barely make out Rhysand’s voice. 

“Take her Cass,” he mutters, or so I think. My assumptions are proven right when I feel Cassian’s arms snake around me, pulling me off of Rhys’ cock.

 I whimper at the loss of the fullness as Cassian lays me on top of his chest stroking my hair and kissing my brow. My body vibrates and my heart pounds with the need to cum. 

“Poor baby, you wanna cum don’t you?” Cassian coos tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. My eyes are glassed over and my face looks fucked out but I’m still able to nod. 

“Make her cum Cass, I want us each to get one more load in her before we’re done,” Rhysand says, already fisting his cock. 

“Rhys I’m not sure, look at her. I don’t think she can take much more.” Cassian warns, placing me against the pillows and moving down my body. 

“Do you want her pregnant or not?” Rhys snaps.

“Of course I do,” Cassian says. “Can you take three more loads baby?” he asks me. 

“Of course she can,” Azriel says, his cock already at attention from seeing his fucked out mate. 

“I-okay,” I sputter, still vibrating at the need to be touched. At this point, I was practically bucking my hips into Cassian’s face. 

“You want me to lick your pretty clit?” Cassian smirks using one arm to pin my hips to the mattress and the other to spread my folds. 

“Y-yes,” I beg. 

Cassian chuckles, his eyes fixed on my cunt, “Looks like we made quite the mess of her little cunt,” he muses and both Rhysand and Azirel peer down to investigate. 

“Shit Cass it’s spilling out,” Azriel curses. 

“Don’t worry brother,” Cassian assures him, as he presses two fingers inside me, pushing the cum deep inside me. “She won’t waste it. Will you baby?” He smiles at me. 

“No, I w-won’t,” I say, meaning every word my body still shaking. 

“Cass lick her little clit or I will, the poor thing is shaking,” Rhys orders Cassian. 

Cassian doesn’t waste a moment before lowering his mouth to my pussy  and attacking my clit. It only took five kitten licks for me to orgasm harder than ever before. My back arches off the bed and the tension from my body pushes more of my mate’s cum out of my aching hole. 

“Ah ah ah,” Cassian says, pushing two fingers into me again. “What did we say about wasting?” 

“Cass it’s your turn,” Azriel bites close to spilling his load. 

“Spread em’ baby,” Cassian smirks, spreading my legs for me anyway before burying himself inside of me. 

“Oh gods Cass!” I cry out as he starts fucking me relentlessly chasing his own release.

“Fuck I love seeing that little bulge,” Cassian grins, placing a hand over where his cock hit my belly.

 Seconds later he’s spilling his load into me, a sound coming from his mouth that I’ve never heard before.  My vision nearly goes black, the only thing keeping me grounded is Cassian gripping my throat and pulling me up to kiss me as his second orgasm coats my walls. 

“Who’s next?” Cassian asks, pulling out of me. 

“Me,” Both Rhysand and Azriel say at the same time. 

“Back off Az, you got to have her first last time,” Rhys growls. 

Whenever I told people I had three mates they would usually joke about how territorial they would get over me. The irony was that my mates almost  never had a problem sharing me, but tonight? Well, tonight was just one of those nights. When mates were trying to conceive they were practically feral, I was honestly surprised things had gone so smoothly till now. 

“Yeah, and I literally had to share her pussy with you!” Azriel roars. 

Cassain drags me up to lay my upper half on his chest so he can run a hand through my hair and whisper praises to me.

“I’m pulling rank, as your High Lord I’m going first,” Rhysand orders, nudging my entrance. 

“Fuck off Rhys,” Azriel says continuing to fist his cock. 

Rhys pushes his cock inside me with a groan as he bottoms out. My body shudders and on instinct, I move away from him but he grips my hips and brings me down his cock again fucking into me hard. 

In my haze my head falls to the side, my cheek grazing Cassian’s abs, the very ones he let me rut on to get off a few weeks ago, and I meet Azriel. He looks glorious, pumping his cock while watching Rhysand fuck my hole. On instinct, I reach my tongue out and lap at the head of his cock catching his immediate attention. 

“You wanna suck it baby?” He muses brushing his cock against my lips. I open my mouth wide, sticking my tongue out in response.

 I know I’m so fucked out I can barely wrap my lips around him but Rhys pulling rank seemed like a dick move and I wanted to remedy it in any way I could. Azriel pushes his cock into my mouth letting out a guttural moan in the process. 

“Good fucking girl,” Azriel moans and it spurs me on to suck him even harder as he fucks my mouth. 

“Oh fuck,” Rhys roars cumming into me for the second time tonight. He knows better than to stay seated in me longer than necessary and pulls out as soon as possible. Azriel’s cock follows, his cock leaving my mouth with a bead of saliva dripping from it.  

“Are you fucked out my love?” Azriel croons, grabbing my jaw to face him. It’s evident from my hazy eyes that I am.

“One more load sweetheart,” Rhys whispers, pressing a kiss to my brow. “You want a baby in your belly don’t you?” 

“Uh huh,” I rasp still unable to form actual words. 

“Open,” Azriel orders his grip on my jaw tightening.  

Of all my mates Azriel was always the most dominant. I loved to test Rhys and Cassian, but when it came to Az? I knew it was in my best interest to be a good girl. 

So just like I had a million times before I opened my mouth nice and wide for him. His hand gripped my jaw, keeping it open before he spit in my mouth. 

“Now swallow,” he growled and I followed his orders once again. I opened my mouth to show him I had been a good girl and he rewarded me by pushing his cock inside me. 

“What was that about Az?” Cassian laughed stroking my hair. 

“Grounding her, if I’m gonna pump a load in her I want her to feel it,” Azriel groans. “We’ve done it before, haven't we baby?” he asks me and I nod enthusiastically. 

Rhys wipes the sweat from my brow as Cassian presses a hand down where Azriel’s cock makes a bulge in my belly. 

“She’s gonna cum Az,” Cassian informs his brother. 

“Fuck I can feel it. Her tiny cunt is squeezing me so tight I can barely fuck her.” Azriel groans. “Ready baby?” Azriel asks me and I nod once more. “1…2…3���Fuckkk,” Azriel moans, spilling his seed into me.

Despite the haze that fills my head I can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment knowing I did it.  I gave each of my mates two orgasms the evidence dripping from my sore cunt, wait fuck. 

“Waste!” is the only word I can get out as I feel all six loads of cum spilling out of me. 

“Shh, it’s okay mate,” Azriel coos, pressing a kiss to my brow laying down on the side that wasn’t occupied by Rhys. “Cass plug her up,” Azriel continues. 

 Without warning, two of Cassian’s fingers slide into my pussy keeping their combined cum from leaking out. 

“Get comfortable mate,” Cassian chuckles. “We’re gonna have to sleep like this.” 

And sleep I do. With Cassian behind me, my head on Rhys’ chest, and Azriel using my stomach as a pillow I’m out within minutes. I don’t know what the future holds as far as children go, but I’d say this was a good first attempt at conceiving.

pregnant! Reader x bat boys Drabble

Masterlist

[dollgxtz]

I gotta know when you’re posting the Zayne CNC fic??? I’ve been checking your blog multiple times a day for it!

But realistically, no pressure 😂 I know writing is hard, and I can wait, lol. It’s worth the wait. I just want to show support for you and your craft. ❤️

Also, I love your yandere!Sylus fic! I’m only on chapter four and I see so many asks about it and I have to physically stop myself from spoiling it for myself, lmao. I’m so excited to read more! Your writing and your tics are a highlight of my day. 😊🥰

Edge Of Control

Word Count: 6.2k

Tags: zayne x fem!reader, cnc, cutting, tw slight blood, scalpel play, choking, biting, degradation, blowjob, degrading names, pet names like darling, pain play, home invasion roleplay, primal play, aftercare in the end

AN: Hi everyone! I know this was a LONG awaited fic but I wanted it to be absolutely perfect for my second husband ^0^. Also ty anon for the very sweet words! I hope this fic makes up for the amount of time you had to wait!!!

It was well past midnight, and the house felt eerily quiet without him. You lay on the couch, wearing nothing but a pair of Zayne’s boxers, the soft fabric a small comfort in his absence. A half-empty bottle of wine sat forgotten on the floor beside you, each sip doing little to calm the restless energy humming beneath your skin. The TV flickered, casting shadows across the room as you absentmindedly flicked through the channels, though nothing could hold your attention.

Your mind kept wandering back to Zayne, a dull ache settling in your chest. He was on another one of those grueling shifts—long hours with no word, no way to reach out to him. The pit of anxiety in your stomach tightened. You didn’t know exactly what his job as a surgeon demanded of him, but you could see it weighing on him more and more. His face had grown tired, the usual sparkle in his eyes dulled by exhaustion. You noticed the way his shoulders remained stiff, tension knotting in his body like a rope pulled too tight, barely holding it together.

Every time he came home like this, you saw it—the frustration simmering just beneath the surface. His body brimming with pent-up energy, adrenaline coursing through his veins with no way to let go. He was so tightly wound, like he was carrying the weight of a world you couldn’t fully understand. And every time you saw him like that, it broke something inside you. You wanted to help him. You wanted to be the one to take that edge off, to give him the release he so desperately needed but would never ask for.

You remembered the last time he came home with that storm in his eyes. Desperation had driven you to plead with him, to offer yourself as an outlet for all that tension, that frustration. You had begged him, your voice trembling, to let go, to take what he needed from you. But he refused. The worry in his eyes had cut deep, his voice firm but laced with guilt as he told you he didn’t want to hurt you.

That memory lingered now, thick in your chest. He was always so controlled, so careful. You knew he loved you, but there was a part of him that he kept locked away, too afraid to unleash it. But you wanted it—you craved it. You wanted him to feel safe enough to lose that control with you, to trust that you could handle it. That you wanted to handle it. But no matter how much you tried to reach him, he kept that wall up, afraid of what might happen if he let himself go.

You took another slow sip of wine, feeling the warmth of it spread through your chest, slightly loosening the anxious knot that had taken residence in your stomach. You always drank more when he was away—needed it, really. It dulled the sharp edges of worry that kept you up at night, made sleep feel a little less impossible. Without him beside you, the house felt too empty, and your mind raced with thoughts you couldn’t control.

Your eyes drifted shut, and the thought crossed your mind again—he could hurt you, if he wanted to. God, he was strong enough. His hands, so skilled and sure in the operating room, could easily push you beyond your limits if he ever let himself go. He knew the human body better than anyone; he understood exactly where and how to apply pressure, how to control every reaction. And then there was the scalpel—his precision tool of choice. He was so adept with it, using it in ways you’d never imagined.

You remembered the first time he’d worked it into one of your nights together, after you had begged him to try something more daring, something that would leave you breathless. He had been hesitant at first, but the results... God, the results. The thrill of that sharp edge glinting in the dim light, the cold metal kissing your skin before it pressed just enough to break the surface. You shivered as the memory washed over you, your body tingling with the vivid recollection.

The pain had been brief, but it was the anticipation, the unspoken threat, that had driven you wild. You could still feel it—the delicate line of fire it had traced across your shoulder, a stinging reminder of his control. And then the blade had hovered at your throat, a silent promise lingering in the air between you, making your pulse race and your breath catch in your throat. In that moment, you had never felt more alive, more his.

Your hand had barely slipped down to your heat when the sharp trill of your phone cut through the quiet. Heart pounding, you snatched it up, the suddenness of it snapping you out of your haze.

“Hello?” you answered, your voice a little breathless, still tangled in the memory of him.

“Is that offer still on the table?” Zayne’s voice poured through the speaker, low and worn, with that familiar undercurrent of exhaustion. But there was something else this time—something darker. His words dripped with a kind of danger, smooth and sweet like black honey, making your stomach flip.

You swallowed hard, a spark igniting low in your belly. “Uh, depends which one,” you managed, trying to play it cool as you sat up, bringing the wine bottle to your lips for another sip. Your heart was racing, anticipation thrumming under your skin.

“The one where I use you.”

The words hit you like a jolt of electricity, sending a thrill straight to your core. The raw need in his voice was unmistakable, and it struck every nerve you had. You faltered for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity of your own reaction. You tried to cover the sudden loss of words with another drink, the wine sliding down your throat as you let the tension stretch between you.

One more sip—just one more for courage. Then, finally, you answered, your voice steadier than you felt.

“Yes.”

“Is the wine good, darling?”

The question hung in the air, and your heart skipped a beat. “What?” you murmured, glancing around the dark living room. The flicker of the TV had left your eyes hazy, still not fully adjusted to the shadows creeping through the room. How did he know you’d been drinking wine?

Your breath caught as an icy chill swept through the house, raising goosebumps on your skin. Instinctively, your gaze darted to the front door, and your stomach dropped. It was wide open, swaying slightly as a gust of wind pushed against it.

You hadn’t heard a thing. Not the lock turning, not the door creaking. Nothing.

How had he gotten in without you noticing?

You stared at the door, frozen in place, watching as it swung shut on its own, the soft click of the latch echoing through the quiet. A chill ran down your spine as the realization hit—you hadn’t heard him enter on purpose. He wanted you to know he’d slipped in unnoticed, that he’d been watching you this whole time. Your mind spun with the thought: How long had he been there?

The phone slipped from your grasp, and you barely registered the sharp whine of the line going dead, drowned out by the thundering pulse of your heartbeat in your ears.

The soft but deliberate sound of shoes against the ceramic floor snapped you back into focus. Your senses sharpened, instincts kicking in. He was coming closer—fast.

In the low, flickering light of the TV, you saw him emerge from the shadows. Long strides brought him swiftly across the room, his form cutting through the dim light with an air of purpose. His form caught the harsh glow—the broad shoulders of his body, the sharp angles of his face—only partially revealed, but enough to make your breath hitch.

Then, without warning, the TV blinked out, plunging the room into complete darkness. The sudden silence was deafening. The sound of his footsteps, which had been closing in on you, vanished as if he’d disappeared into the night itself.

But you knew better.

He was there, somewhere in the blackness, waiting for you to realize it. The tension in the air was thick, every hair on your body standing on end as you strained to hear the slightest movement, feel the faintest brush of his presence.

You held your breath, every muscle in your body coiled tight. The tension crackled in the dark, your senses heightened by the weight of his silent presence.

Suddenly, the TV blared a sharp noise from the movie, flooding the room with light for just a second. And there he was, Zayne, only a few feet away—moving like a shadow, so silently it made your skin crawl. His face was bathed in the cold glow, and the way the light played off his sharp features made him look almost predatory. His expression was intense, dark, and unreadable, as if he was walking a line between control and something much more dangerous.

Your brain screamed danger. Fight or flight surged through your veins, heart hammering against your ribcage as self-preservation took over. Without thinking, your hand tightened around the neck of the wine bottle, the glass cool and smooth in your grip. Before you could second-guess it, you raised it high above your head and hurled it straight at him, instinct driving your every move.

But then—he catches it. Effortlessly. The bottle freezes mid-air, his hand snapping up to grab it as if it were nothing more than a tossed pillow. He doesn’t flinch. His stride doesn’t break. His hazel green eyes, burning with that same dangerous intensity, never leave yours for even a second. The best defense you could muster didn’t even make him blink.

Calmly, as though the act hadn’t fazed him at all, he places the bottle on the side table, his gaze still locked on you. The silence between you feels deafening as he closes the distance, his steps slow but deliberate.

Panic shot through you like a wild animal, adrenaline making your limbs tremble. But something else flared right alongside it—something that sent a pulse of heat straight to your core. It was fear, raw and visceral, but it was tangled up with desire, twisted into something you couldn’t quite understand but craved all the same.

You held your breath, every muscle in your body coiled tight. The tension crackled in the dark, your senses heightened by the weight of his silent presence.

Like prey trapped in the gaze of a predator, you couldn’t move.

Couldn’t look away.

And you almost didn’t want to.

You whip around, adrenaline taking over, and try to run—but you barely make it a few steps before it’s too late. You don’t even hear him behind you. The silence is terrifying, disorienting. Then, out of nowhere, his hand clamps around your elbow, and a startled shriek escapes your lips, cut off as he uses your momentum against you, spinning you sharply into the wall.

Your back collides with it hard, knocking the breath from your lungs. A whimper slips out, unbidden, from the shock of the impact. Before you can recover, Zayne’s voice, low and commanding, hisses in your ear.

“Don’t fight it,” he growls, the words sharp like a promise. “You asked for this.”

Panic surges through your body, instinct screaming at you to get away. “Let go!” you cry out, fear pulsing hot and fast through your veins. But your voice is weak, barely masking the excitement that’s battling for control inside you.

He doesn’t. Instead, he’s on you again, his mouth descending on your neck with a hunger that makes your pulse quicken. One of his hands grips your jaw with rough precision, calloused fingers pressing into your skin, holding you in place. You try to twist away, but he holds you firm, his touch demanding, possessive.

His lips travel down your neck, finding your pulse point first, then moving lower, grazing the soft curve beneath your ear. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, and despite the panic swirling in your chest, a desperate whimper escapes. Your body betrays you, your hips instinctively rocking toward him, already aching for his touch. The heat between your legs flares, want burning through the fear.

His tongue traces a line down your neck, the warmth of it lingering only for a moment before the cool air chills the wet skin. Then his teeth sink into the muscle above your collarbone, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to make you gasp in pain. You wince, your body tensing as the sharp sensation rolls through you.

Your hand flies up to his head, fingers tangling in his hair as you try to push him off, your grip weak and trembling. But Zayne doesn't budge. His strength overwhelms you, his body pressing against yours with an intensity that leaves no room for escape. His breath is hot against your skin as he continues, relentless, leaving you caught between fear and an overpowering need that consumes you both.

"Zayne," you whimper. He releases his teeth from your neck with a chuckle that curls fear inside you…

His hands take your wrists, leading them above your head. You try to squirm out of his grasp. Partly because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of pinning you. Partly out of the fear of what he could do if you can’t push him away, his entire aura shifted to something more angry and dangerous than usual. 

"Don't pretend like you don't like it," he says into the angle of your jaw. He leaves soft kisses there while he effortlessly pins your arms above your head. He holds them there with one hand.

The other gropes and squeezes it’s way down your body. Your chest, your side, your waist. He grabs a hold of your hips, thumb perfectly lining up with the dune of your hipbone. He pulls your hips towards him harshly enough to draw a noise from your lips. He works his knee between your thighs, then pushes them open. He swallows any attempted protests with a kiss. His knee presses against your sensitive cunt and you whimper against his lips in response. 

“Oh, what happened to all the struggling?” Zayne mocks you, punctuating his words by squeezing your wrists hard enough to bruise. His hand comes up under your t-shirt and you shiver against the sensation of his fingers on your bare skin. You melt. Fucking putty in his hands.

You open your mouth to protest, to say anything that might break the tension or reclaim some of your control, but before the words can form, Zayne grinds his knee into your core. The pressure sends a jolt of raw pleasure through your body, and the only sound that escapes is a desperate, breathy whine. His reaction is immediate—he hums with satisfaction, his lips curving into a smug smile. He does it again, harder this time, and you can feel him reveling in the control, in the power he has over you.

Your mind scrambles to catch up with your body, which is already responding in ways you can’t hide. You try to meet his gaze, desperately wanting to say something sharp, something biting, anything to regain your footing. But the moment your eyes lock with his, whatever witty retort you had dies on your tongue.

His face is half-hidden in the darkness, but his eyes... there’s something in them that makes your heart stutter. Not just the hunger, not just the dominance—it’s deeper. There’s a flash of genuine anger simmering beneath the surface, something darker that you hadn’t expected, and it sends a ripple of unease through you. The intensity of it levels you, catching you off guard.

Suddenly, this feels like more than just a game. Warmth floods your chest, your body still responding to him in ways you can’t control, but a new sense of apprehension takes root. You’re playing with something dangerous, something unpredictable. The heat between you is no longer just desire—it’s the burn of real fire, and you’re not sure if you’re ready for the flames.

Your breath comes faster as you take in the sight of him. His chest rising and falling, his lips parted slightly, the way his muscles tense beneath his skin. You’re mesmerized, caught between the fear of what he might do next and the undeniable pull he has over you.

You take him in, eyes sweeping over the familiar lines of his body now that he’s standing in front of you. His white lab coat is gone, discarded somewhere behind him, leaving him in his crisp white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows as if he couldn’t be bothered to fully undress. His shirt is buttoned neatly up to the collar, accentuating his thick, muscular frame in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. The tie around his neck is still knotted, slightly loosened from a long day’s work, but there’s something disheveled about him now—something raw and untamed lurking beneath the polished exterior.

His dark slacks cling to his legs, perfectly tailored to his build, emphasizing his long leg now settled between your core. The soft fabric sways with his movements, while his polished shoes make almost no sound against the floor, their silence unsettling given the tension simmering between you.

His arms cage you in, closing off this small corner of the world to just the two of you. It feels like there’s nothing outside this moment, no one else but him—towering over you, his strength radiating off him in waves. The air between you feels thick, charged with tension and unspoken desire. Your gaze travels back to his face, meeting his intense eyes, and despite the weight of the moment, you can’t help but smile mischievously.

Without a second thought, you turn your head and sink your teeth into his arm, biting down just enough to feel the resistance of his skin, tasting the salty warmth of him. At the same time, you grind your hips down against him, pressing into the hardness beneath his slacks.

You expect him to react instantly, to snarl an insult or degrade you for your boldness. To throw out one of his usual threats—punishment, discipline—his voice dripping with disdain for your insolence, for the way you always push his boundaries. You brace yourself for it, for the sting of his words, the sharp crack of his tone that would send heat rushing through your body.

But it doesn’t come.

Instead, he goes completely still. The tension in his muscles shifts, tightening under your bite, but his silence unnerves you more than anything. You can feel it—the raw power coursing just beneath his skin, his body vibrating with restraint. His muscles flex under your teeth, taut with the effort of holding something back. You release your grip slightly, confused, nervous. But Zayne says nothing. He’s a coiled spring, quiet, calculating, like a predator biding its time.

Methodically, he moves, his hands sliding down your arms, his touch precise, controlled, like he’s performing surgery. Each motion deliberate, calculated. His fingers glide over your skin, and with each inch he covers, the nervousness inside you builds. His control feels absolute, every movement designed to unsettle, to leave you wondering what’s coming next.

Then his hands reach your head, enveloping it completely. His fingers curl around your skull, not rough but firm enough to make you feel small, trapped in his grip. His thumbs rest near your temples, steady, as if he’s taking his time to savor the way your breath catches. The weight of his touch presses down on you, making it impossible to move.

With one harsh movement, he’s pushed you down onto your knees. He undoes his belt and pulls himself free, his beautiful cock glistening with pre-cum. One hand presses hard into your jaw. Harder. His thumb pressing against the muscles there until you open your mouth for him. The head of his cock comes to rest against your lips.

The taste of salt and Zayne’s soap is too tempting to resist. He was usually such a giver, and when you went down on him, he always liked it slow. You lick up the length of his cock and he shivers in response. He drops his hands to your shoulders and you watch his forearms flex in pleasure. Your tongue swirls around his soft tip, and then you take him into your mouth soft and sweet.

Except... this time he doesn’t respond with shaking breaths and high pitched whimpers. Not even an utterance of your name. Insecurity flashes through you - you were sure this is how he usually liked it. Were you not doing well enough for him? You cast your eyes upwards for guidance, barely able to see him in the dark. 

“You really think that’s going to cut it?” His voice is cold and hard. Then his hands are on the back of your head, pushing you down onto his cock so fast and deep you almost gag. You pull away to drag a sharp breath into your lungs, abdomen muscles flexing.

 “You want to be fucked like a slut, you’re going to have to earn it.” He pulls you back down onto him.

Suppressing the urge to gag brings tears to your eyes, and it isn’t long until they’re falling down your cheek, mingling with the saliva making a mess of your mouth and chin. Wet, choking noises echo into the empty hall. When you start to slow, whimpering from the effort, he’s quick to pick up the slack. He thrusts his hips forward, pinning your head between him and the wall. You choke and gag around him, struggling to adjust around the brutal pace he sets, fucking your throat like you're nothing to him but a toy. Your hands come up to his hips, but he wrenches them away with a furious grunt. 

He pulls out suddenly, thick strands of saliva dripping off his cock. His breathing is hard and sweat rolls down the lines of his ab muscles. Your shoulders slump and you try to catch your breath. You’re absolutely spent. How humiliating that he didn’t even have to touch you to keep you wet for him, a vague sense of disgust emanating through your core.

“Was that good enough?” you weakly ask, but you might as well be begging him to fuck you for the look in your eyes. You don’t even bother to wipe the spit from your chin or the tears from your cheeks. You hope the sight gets under his skin so he can fuck you just as rough as he did your throat. 

“I don’t buy it,” he says. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and frustration. 

“What?” 

“I just don’t buy that you want me to fuck you.” 

You’re about to ask what you can possibly do more to prove it when something hard presses against your warmth, pushing your soaked boxers against you. You look down do see Zayne presenting his shoe. Polished and tightly tied, the mere sight of them gave obvious impression of what he wanted from you. But why?

You look up at him, but all he does is look back at you, expectantly. Your can feel the heat creeping up your neck as you adjust to straddle his shoe. You keep hoping he’ll just end your suffering by mocking you for even considering it, but it never comes. The cold, hard leather against you sends a wave of electricity through your body. Your hips are moving on their own. Your body desperate for anything it can get, chasing it’s high no matter how humiliating. You turn your face away from him, unable to stand him looking at you like this. Grinding against his shoe... 

“There they are. My desperate little darling,” his voice has the first touch of warmth it’s had all night. It’s enough to spurn you on, the heat coiling in your abdomen. You pick up the pace against your will, your body chasing ecstasy like an uncaged animal. And Zayne just watches you, expression never changing, never reaching down to touch you. God, were you really going to cum on his shoe while he looked at you like that?

He kneeled down to one knee, doing his best not to disturb your work. His strong hands take hold of your hips and push you harder against his shoe, dragging your hips up and down. You moan, tears collecting in your eyes again. You can’t believe you’re enjoying this. Even - no, especially because it hurt. You were getting closer, your moans coming faster. 

“Beg for it,” Zayne orders. 

“Please let me cum, Zayne, please!” 

“Tsk. Not that,” he pulls his shoe away like he's disgusted and you whimper in protest. Then, as if you were light as a feather, he’s tossing you to the side. You catch yourself on your elbows and feel them scrape against the ceramic floor. Your hips grind against the air as they searched for any friction at all that would send you over the edge. They found nothing. 

“Silly girl.” He sounds bored as he stands to his full height above you.

You watch as his hand pulls a scalpel from his pocket. It captures his full attention, glinting in the light of the TV behind him. When he speaks, it's almost to the room.

“Isn’t this your favorite part? Where you try and fail to escape?” 

You don’t move. He flips the scalpel in the air, catching it by the tip of the blade, and then again to catch it by the handle. He admires it as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world. 

“Start crawling,” he suggests. 

You push yourself onto tired, shaking limbs and try to get up. They give out on you. You pull yourself forward on your elbows instead. You hear the nearly silent creak of his shoes. The another. Then another. You feel small crawling beneath him, listening to the gentle whirl of the scalpel as he tosses it in the air. His shoes creak again, then again. 

You turned to look at him. You were almost overwhelmed at how he towered above you. His broad shoulders blocking out the light in the hallway. One hand busy toying with the scalpel, the other pulling his pants further down his hips. He was clearly taking his time.

“You ever wonder why you like to fight so much?” You watch shoe follow shoe in lazy strides until they were at either side of your ribcage, standing above you.

“Should I let you get away again?” he asks, but then he’s dropping to his knees, pinning you beneath him. Fear takes hold of your vocal chords and you make a desperate noise, pushing at his legs. “Will you just give in already?” 

With a calculated shift, Zayne turns your body to face him, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst from your chest. The tension between you crackles in the air, and before you can fully process what’s happening, his hand finds your neck, fingers wrapping around it with unyielding force. His palm presses against your throat, squeezing just enough to send a jolt of pain through you, sharp and undeniable.

"It takes about 10 seconds for pressure to the jugular to result in unconsciousness," Zayne says calmly, his voice low, almost clinical, as if reciting a fact from one of his textbooks. His grip tightens again, harder this time, and the sensation of control he wields is overwhelming.

The edges of your vision blur almost immediately, the world around you starting to fade. You feel lightheaded, like the ground is slipping away beneath your feet, your body caught in the thin space between pain and pleasure. But beneath the intoxicating sensations, panic begins to swell. The lightness in your head grows, and then you feel weightless, disconnected from reality as the darkness creeps in around your sight.

Your body starts to respond, instinct driving you toward the rising sense of panic. The pleasure and thrill that had mixed with the danger of it all suddenly feel too real, too much, as Zayne relentlessly pushes you to your limits.

You bring your hand up weakly, your fingers trembling, and tap his arm three times. The motion is small but deliberate, your safe signal.

For a brief, terrifying second, you wonder if he’s noticed.

He releases and you gasp for air. He lets you catch your breath, and for a minute you’re almost angry. But the growing wet between your legs betrays you to yourself, forcing you to admit you liked being pushed to the edge. An exhilarated smile picks up the corners of your mouth and Zayne, intently waiting for you to lead, just watches.

“More,” is all you need to say, and he’s on you again. Hand lighter on your throat, he brandishes the scalpel to catch your eye. It makes contact with your skin and you fight to control a shiver. 

It glides around your shoulder, then down your collar bone. The razor sharp point leaving a thin, red cut beneath the bone. You gasp, back arching into the sting. He withdraws. 

“If you keep squirming, I’m going to hurt you for real.” It’s as much a warning as it is a threat, and the dark rasp of his voice sends a chill down your spine. 

Then you go still again, he continues. The scalpel crosses your chest, taking it’s time tracing each and every one of your ribs. He draws a bead of blood there, before lifting the blade again. You moan, squeezing your thighs together to keep from moving your hips. The anticipation almost too much for you. But the movement catches his eye. He pockets the scalpel, and then he’s prying your thighs apart so hard you feel the ache in your hips. You try to shimmy away, but his hands hold your thighs fast against him. 

“I said hold still,” he grunts, squeezing his hands around the squish of your thighs hard enough that you make a noise. "What part of stop squirming do you not get?"

Your hand comes up to his hips, trying to hold them at a distance, but it doesn’t help. He pulls you closer to him and you feel his cock hard and leaking over your boxers. Fuck, you almost come undone all over again. Feeling him pressed against you like this... his cock easily reaching your belly button, reminding you how deep inside you he could be. 

“Zayne, please,” you whimper. 

“Please what?” He asks. You feel the cold blade against the tender, exposed part of your thigh. 

“Please fuck me.” 

He grunts, a noise that commits to nothing. He pulls the fabric of your boxers off your body and slips the scalpel beneath it. He cuts the thin fabric off of you in a show of strength and skill that intimidates you. 

He leans over you slowly, his hips pressed flush against yours, his cock pressed against where you want it most. A hand comes up to your face then, holding your jaw hard as he turns your face away from his. The scalpels beautiful surface approaches your cheek. Your breath picks up, fear coursing through you. He says nothing, and it makes it all the more terrifying. Your instincts freeze every muscle in your body. 

“You asked for this,” he reminds you, tracing the curve of your cheek. You bite your lip.

He pockets the scalpel once more, and you realize then that he's still entirely dressed, his pants only pulled down enough to fuck you. He shifts his hips, lining up with your needy hole. You’re already moaning for him.

“Begging me to use you like this, begging me to hurt you like this.” He pushes into you, your cunt struggling to adjust to his size. He only makes it a couple inches. He pulls out of you, then thrusts again, moaning as he does. This time when he pushes into you, he completely fills you. You both release an almost victorious sigh.

“Always fucking struggling. Can never just make it easy,” he growls, that angry look in his eye. His jaw flexes. Your cunt tenses around him.

He thrusts into you again, and again, so hard it feels like he could fuck you in half. He dips his face into your neck, moaning.

"You want me to force you onto my cock." His voice tightened with effort, but never lost that black-honey edge. "Can't say no to you. Do this because I love you."

You reach up and cling to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric. His words shouldn't thrill you, but they did. Your eyes flutter closed. Your body shook beneath him.

“This is messed up,” Zayne’s hips start to pick up their pace. You wrap your legs around him, encouraging him, pulling him deeper into you. You find yourself moaning his own words back at him; so messed up, so messed up. 

Fuck, he felt so good. The two of you dissolved into senseless babbling, saying whatever it took to push each other closer to the edge. A meaningless cloud of fuck and just like that and you begged for this until neither of you could form words at all. Your pace became erratic, moaning into each other’s necks, limbs tightening around each other as you both approached your highs.

“Fuck, fuck, m’so-” you barely manage, panting and moaning through your words. Your thighs tighten around him and he groans in response. 

And then you’re coming undone together. His hips driving his cock as deep as they can with the primal need to fuck his cum deeper inside you. You take it, greedily, breathlessly as your own climax rocks through your body like an earthquake. 

He rests his forehead against your chest while he pulls out of you, then collapses onto the cool ceramic floor of the hallway beside you. He turns you onto your side and buries his head against your back, forearms tight against your chest while he hugs you close to him. 

“I didn’t think,” you take a deep breath, trying not to pant through your sentence, “that when I asked you to use me after your work shifts, that it’d be like that.” 

“Bad?” He asks, his voice uncharacteristically small. 

“No, no,” you rush to recover the situation. You lace your fingers with his, “Of course not.” 

He says nothing. You turn to look at him, and there’s that distant, tired look on his face. 

“Are you okay...?” 

“I will tell you about it soon, darling” he says. You hum as acknowledgement, wishing you could say anything, but feeling like nothing was the right thing to say. Instead you just let him hold you for awhile. 

Zayne held you close, his body a solid, comforting weight against yours, his bodily warmth gradually soothing the whirlwind of sensation still buzzing under your skin. But then, you felt him shift. His fingers, cold and precise, began to ghost over the cuts he had made, tracing the delicate lines he’d etched into your skin with surgical precision. You shivered at his touch, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

His eyes softened, and in a voice barely louder than a whisper, he said, “I need to tend to these.” His words were gentle, but firm, a quiet reminder of the care he always took with you, even now.

He pressed a tender kiss to your temple, the warmth of it contrasting with the coolness of his fingers, and then he pulled away. You watched him button his pants, his movements deliberate but unhurried, before disappearing down the hall. Even through the exhaustion weighing you down, you heard the faint sound of him rummaging in the bathroom, retrieving what he needed.

When he returned, Zayne knelt beside you, his medical kit in hand. His usual calm, professional demeanor was still there, but this time it was softened with a tenderness only reserved for you. Gently, he began to disinfect the cuts, his touch as light as it was thorough. The sting of the antiseptic bit into your skin, making you wince, but his hand found yours, his thumb brushing reassuringly over your knuckles. It was a silent promise: I’m here, I’ve got you.

With every stroke of the gauze, every carefully placed bandaid, Zayne’s focus never wavered. His gaze remained trained on you, on the cuts he was tending to, but there was something deeper in his expression—something protective, almost reverent, as though he was caring for a part of himself.

When he finally finished, he sat back slightly, his hand resting on your arm, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you were truly okay. You could see the tension from earlier still lingering in the set of his jaw, the concern etched faintly into the lines of his face.

“I’m okay, I promise,” you murmured, your voice heavy with exhaustion, your body finally giving in to the weight of the night. Your limbs felt like lead, but your heart fluttered at the care he was taking with you, the gentleness of his hands now so different from the intensity you’d felt earlier.

“I’m just…so exhausted now” you sigh, briefly closing your eyes as another wave of tiredness washed through you.

Zayne’s expression softened into a small smile, one so full of adoration it made your chest tighten with affection. He stood, helping you up with careful hands, supporting your weight as he guided you to the couch. His arm stayed wrapped around you, keeping you close, steadying you as he laid you down gently, as though you were something fragile.

He settled in beside you, his body curling protectively around yours, pulling you against his chest. “We’ll clean up later,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead in a soft kiss. The warmth of his breath and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you, the scent of him comforting, grounding you.

You nestled deeper into him, the tension of the night melting away in his embrace. Wrapped in his arms, in the safety of his presence, your exhaustion finally caught up with you. Your eyelids fluttered closed, the world around you fading into the soft haze of sleep. And there, in the quiet of the night, you both drifted off together, tangled in each other, with nothing but the sound of your breathing and the quiet rise and fall of his chest.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

YOUR HEART WAS GLASS, I DROPPED IT ❆

katsuki bakugou x reader

on a cold winter night, you open the door for your warm, ex boyfriend katsuki.

part 2/2. i’m sorry tumblrs not letting me link anything atm :(

inspired by champagne problems

katsuki booked his flight home at night for a reason.

it was dark, meaning no one really would be out. he wanted to be alone and sit there in his hurt. he wasn’t sure what he hated more- the bustling crowds or silent sleepers. both of them had a clear absence of you.

the winter chill seeps into his bones as he waits outside your door. after the phone hangs up, we anxiously wonders if you’ll even answer it. its -26°, and he can only imagine your bundled up in there. its the place he left you standing before hoping on a plane and abandoning what he had with you.

he’s about to turn away, before he hears your voice. “get in here, it’s freezing.”

he immediately obliges, stepping into the familiar space. crimson eyes stare at you, noticing your different appearance. you’ve cut your hair and pierced your ears. theres an ache in his chest seeing you for the first time again. suddenly the apartment began to feel much warmer.

“your hair. its… shorter.” he awkwardly mutters like a teenage boy asking you to a dance.

“uh, yeah. i wanted a change.” you chuckle, no less uncomfortable than him.

he wants to take your hand, but he’s scared he’ll drop it again. your place was cozy, yet crestfallen. he remembered you told him you never particularly enjoyed living alone. you lead him to the living room. there, he sees your cats cuddling, slightly jealous of the companionship they share.

its here he notices that its still chilly, albeit not as cold as outside. he quickly clutches his hands around the warm cup of tea you bring him, taking in the mundane sounds of your apartment. leftovers on the stove, the dripping of the sink, and the soft snores of your feline companions.

“sorry, my heaters still broken.” you apologetically quip, sitting down next to him on the couch. katsuki mentally facepalms himself for that. he said he’d fix it for you before he left.

“yeah. guess i forgot about that.” he says, barely looking you in the eye. if he was gonna break up with you, leave you stranded and hop on a flight out of the country, you think the least he could do is make sure you stayed warm- but no.

“why didn’t you get it fixed yourself?” he asks, his usual gruff voice replaced by a particular softness for you.

you just shrug. “i don’t know. i never got around to it. winter came early.”

the both of you remember when you first got together. he told his family for a reason. he was so excited, saying he found the one. a few months later, no one was celebrating.

love slipped beyond his reaches the day he began doubting himself. he wasn’t good enough for you. becoming the #1 hero in his country only made him wonder more about his worth. he could barely give a reason towards the break up, instead spewing out that he needed to think things through instead.

“..how was your trip?” you break the silence, though you know the answer. his trip was great. the media wouldn’t shut up about it. about his parties and award shows, about the lives he saved and the talents he has. they particularly the people, more so the girls he was with. though you decided not to bring that part up.

he paused for a moment. he knew you would say something about it soon. he was being watched and photographed everywhere he went, which included a few girls who got some videos and pictures with him.

“it was exhausting, more than fun. you know all those girls only care about publicity and attention, none of it was real.” he sighs, taking a sip of his tea.

“i didn’t bring up girls.” you’re quick to remind him. though its nice how he’s so quick to assure any doubts you may have. “but… yeah. i figured as much.”

“you know nothing happened between me and anyone you saw, right?” he asks in a tone that makes it sound like it should be obvious- but its not. katsuki could have went home with someone else, done illicit drugs, drank and had unprotected sex, and it wouldn’t be any of your business.

“it… wouldn’t matter anymore if you did. we broke up before you left, remember?” you say.

theres nothing with katsuki’s memory. he thinks about that break up every damn night.

“um.. least you had kirishima with you.” you quip, just trying to lighten the mood. you get a genuine smile out of the blonde.

“yeah. shitty hair was annoying, as usual.” he chuckles fondly. only best friends can refer to each other like that.

shitty hair was also the guy that kept katsuki from doing something, or rather someone, he might regret. he knows his best friend and he knows where his feelings lie.

katsuki was midas. everything he touched turned to gold. and people adored him for it, revelling in the fame and fortune. but with that superpower comes consequences. not everything should b shiny and gold. sure, his midas touch on the chevy door looked beautiful, but you two could never actually drive it. your relationship shimmered and glistened, but it never went anywhere.

but for a moment, things were good. you’d laugh and smile with your group of friends- though after the breakup you believed you’d never say that word again. now, those friends have the nerve to deck the halls that katsuki once loved you in.

he never was ready, so you watched him go. neither of you just didn’t know the answer, even after begging him to stay on your knees.

you would have made such a lovely bride. what a shamed he’s fucked in the head. even though to him you were the real thing.

he still has your picture in his wallet. he wants to your hold hand dancing, and never leave you like he did ever again.

“…what happened to us, anyway?” he dares to ask, his whisper speaking volumes in the silence. he knows the answer. he knows why he did what he did. but you suppose he wants to know what you think.

“one moment you love me, and your promising to fix my heater… next thing i know, you’ve gotta think things through. and then you’re on a plane to los angeles.”

he flinches at that. kind of a dick move on his part, not explaining things and immediately fleeing the country afterwards. to be fair, it was a pr trip he had planned months before, but if that wasn’t the case he’d still book a spontaneous trip to alberta or somewhere, like the coward he is.

he feels the most guilt when you bring up the heater he said he’d fix. it wasn’t the only thing he promised you. he swore you’d always be loved, that you’d never be alone, and yet he couldn’t even give you a god damn warm apartment for the winter.

“i did love you.” he attempts to correct you, though you focus only on one word.

“did?” you ask, hesitantly.

he pauses again, realizing his slip up.

“…i do love you.”

you shake your head silently, eyes welling up with tears. one falls into your cup of tea. “don’t… don’t say that just to make me feel better, kats.”

but he’s not. he’s saying it because he means it. he’s saying it because he’s kept his mothers ring in his pocket, preparing for the moment he’ll make it your ring.

at this point, he can tell the cold is getting to you. your shaking slightly, your loose sweater respectfully doing nothing to shield you from the winter air. a broken heater neglected by a shitty ex-boyfriend is enough cold.

“you’re cold?” he asks. “no, i’m warm.” you answer sarcastically. its his fault for asking.

he debates on it for a moment. normally, he wouldn’t think twice before pulling you into his embrace. but now, he worries. he wonders if thats even what you want. his quirk keeps him warm enough, but you don’t have that. seeing your reaction to the bitter winter air pushes him to a decision.

“c’mere.”

maybe its the cold, the ache in your heart missing him, or some combination of both, but you don’t think twice before shuffling over to him on the couch as he wraps his arms around you. your head lays against his chest, listening to the rise and fall of his heartbeat and the warmth of his embrace.

god, he missed this. even the warmth of LA didn’t compare to holding you on a chilled night.

“you’re the worst.” you whisper, obviously still angry and heartbroken, yet still in his embrace. “i love you.”

those words feel like a confession. he takes it, both the proclamation of his faults and the admission that you still love him. both are true.

“i love you too, dumbass.” he says. “and i’m not just saying that.”

you perk your head up slightly, finally asking the million-dollar question: “..then why’d you break things off?”

he looks at you. he knows exactly why. but he’s not sure if he can break it to you yet. ultimately, he decides you deserve the truth.

with a sigh, he finally speaks. “i… i don’t know. i thought it would be better for you. i thought you’d be happier without me dragging you down, babe.”

you look into his red eyes and determine that he is, in fact, telling the truth- despite how fabricated it sounds. katsuki bakugou, the incredible #1 hero who was the best of the best, thought he wasn’t good enough?

yeah, thats exactly the case. because even through his heroic outside, katsuki wondered if you deserved more. or better.

he sees the confusion in your eyes and decided to explain his thoughts further. “i thought you’d be better off without me, with someone else. i thought you’d find someone better than me who didn’t have such a shitty personality, someone who you’d be better with.”

you shake your head, making sure he hears you. “i know you’ve been doubting yourself since you became #1… wondering if you’re good enough or not, but… i thought you’d at least know you’re good enough for me.”

its crazy to him how easy it was for his fears to die down if he had just talked to you in the first place. he’s learned his lesson.

so he nods, pressing a kiss and an “i’m sorry” to your forehead. you continue talking to him.

“you’re shitty, and you’re kind of an asshole.” you chuckle. “you’re also really sweet when it counts. you remember things about me. you fix things, i guess except for my heater… you’re good to me. you try. you try harder with me than with anything else in your life.”

he couldn’t help but smile a little at the truth in your words. even counting his time in UA, his relentless training to become a hero, katsuki tried the hardest to become better for you. “yeah. you make me wanna change.”

he presses his forehead to yours, just relishing in the newfound warmth. he’s happy, content.

“lets call it even.” you whisper, fingers intertwining with his. “i didn’t think i was good enough for you either.”

he almost scoffs at that. “you’re an idiot for thinkin’ that.”

you roll your eyes. “so are you.”

tags! 🫧

@dragonscribble @rayleeya @brisklofitea @saceaseeds

[sidekick-hero]

I think I love you, still

Written for day 1 of @steddieangstyaugust, second chances. Title is from "Still" by AVEC.

Tags: modern au, exes to lovers, steddie dads, getting back together

words: 2.8k | AO3 | rated teen

"Steve, come on." Robin's eyes bore into him, the frustration palpable. Steve knows that look, knows it means he's missing something, but he can't quite figure out what.

"It's just, Liz was nice, okay? We had a nice time." Even as he says it, he knows it's a weak argument. The word 'nice' feels hollow, a placeholder for something he can't quite define.

Robin rolls her eyes. "Steve, 'nice' is what you call a weather forecast, not a date. If you were really into her, you'd have more to say."

"She laughed at my jokes, she looked pretty, she smelled nice—"

"But did you feel anything? Sparks? Butterflies? Anything more than just... niceness?" Robin interrupts, her voice softer now, more concerned than frustrated.

Steve opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. He's always been good at charming his way through dates, but there's been an emptiness lately, a disconnect he can't quite explain.

Robin sighs, her expression softening. "Steve, you deserve more than just 'nice'. You deserve someone who makes you feel alive."

Steve glances away, feeling a pang of discomfort. He doesn't want to admit it, but Robin's words hit home. The hollow feeling he's been carrying around, the absence of excitement and genuine connection, has been gnawing at him. He knows she's right, but the thought of confronting it feels too overwhelming. Before he can dwell on it, he decides to change the subject. "I’m picking up Lily from Eddie’s later. You wanna come over and watch a movie tonight?”

Robin raises an eyebrow but plays along. "Would love to, but Vickie and I are going on a date. She’s finally got a night off at work and I plan on making the most of it.”

Steve waggles his eyebrows. “Someone’s getting laid tonight.”

“God, I really hope so. A girl has needs, Steve. Needs.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Steve laughs. “I’ll tell my daughter that her auntie Robbie prefers her girlfriend over her goddaughter. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Robin half laughs, half groans. “Oh my God, don’t say it like that. You know I love spending time with Lily, it’s just…”

“Robs, I was joking. I know you do. I’m happy for you and Vickie. Go out, have a great night with the love of your life. Lily and I won’t run away.”

Robin nudges his shoulder with hers, her smile warm but tinged with concern. “Thanks, Steve. You know, you deserve that kind of happiness too.”

Steve's smile falters slightly, his eyes flickering away. “Yeah, well...”

“Steve,” Robin says softly, “you don’t have to pretend with me. I know you’re still hurting.”

He lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not that simple, Robs. I can’t just… move on. Not when I see Eddie all the time because of Lily.”

Robin’s gaze softens even more, and she places a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to move on, but you do need to face how you feel. Avoiding it isn’t helping anyone, least of all you.”

He looks at her, his eyes big and pleading. Why is it still so hard, even after all these months? “I don’t know what you want me to say. That I still love him? That every time I see him, it feels like someone’s twisting a knife in my chest? Because it does, okay? But that doesn’t change anything.”

“Oh Steve” Robin says, voice full of the same pain he’s feeling. He knows how much it’s hurting her to see him in pain, that’s why he’s been trying to hide it from her. “Maybe it doesn’t change what happened, but it could change what happens next. You and Eddie were great together. And from what I hear, he’s been just as lost without you.”

Steve blinks, surprised. “What do you mean?”

Robin takes a deep breath, deciding to take the plunge. “Eddie… he’s been different since you two broke up. Chrissy said he’s been distant, not just with you but with everyone. I think he’s hurting just as much as you are.”

Steve’s heart aches at the thought of Eddie in pain. “Then why didn’t he say anything? Why didn’t he try to fix things?”

It's true, it was Steve who said those last words: Maybe we should break up. He hadn't said it because he didn't love Eddie anymore. But they fought all the time, about everything. When they first started dating, things had been so much easier. They never had big fights, just little things that would be fixed in no time before they had great make-up sex.

All that changed when they adopted Lily. He could never, not for one second, regret the miracle that was their little girl. But she showed them in bright technicolor all the things that weren't working between them.

Suddenly, money became a real problem. So did their jobs and hobbies, and the way Eddie could never clean up after himself, and Steve's tendency to become a mother hen and a control freak, with his anxiety making him moody and bitchy.

Breaking up had seemed like the most logical step, and when Steve had suggested it, Eddie had just hung his head and said, "Maybe you're right. Lily shouldn't grow up with her dads fighting all the time."

And that was it. They separated. There was no yelling, no slammed doors, no broken dishes. Just silence, devastating and final in a way that no fight between them had ever been.

"Maybe he thought you would be better off without him. Or maybe he's just as scared as you are," Robin suggests gently, pulling Steve out of his thoughts. "Look, all I'm saying is maybe tonight could be a chance for the two of you to talk. Really talk."

Steve shakes his head, conflicted. "I don't know if I can, Robs. What if it just makes things worse?"

Robin squeezes his arm reassuringly. "Or what if it makes things better? You won't know until you try. And you both deserve to be happy, together or apart. But you have to give yourselves the chance to find out. It's been two years, Steve. Don't you think the fact that you're still in love with him means something?"

"I think it means I'm really bad at moving on and letting things go. Look how long it took me to get over Nance."

"It's not the same and you know it. You and Eddie... I've never seen you look as happy as when you were with him. And I know you two ended things for a reason, but Chrissy told me that Eddie has gotten really good at the whole adult thing, y'know. And he takes good care of Lilly. Even toddler-proofed the recording studio so he could take her with him."

The thought makes him smile. He didn't know that, but it makes a warm feeling spread in his chest.

Steve exhales, the weight of her words settling heavily on his shoulders. "All right, I'll think about it. But no promises."

Robin gives him an encouraging smile. "That's all I'm asking. Just... be honest with yourself, Steve. And with Eddie."

Steve nods, feeling a mixture of dread and anticipation. As he leaves to pick up Lily, Robin's words echo in his head. Should he be honest with Eddie? Tell him how much he misses waking up with Eddie's curls tickling his face, his warm body pressed against his own. Open up and admit how he still falls asleep on the couch wrapped in Eddie's Metallica hoodie? Explain to Eddie why the days they trade Lily are both the best and worst days of his week?

As he drives to Eddie's, memories flood his mind-their first date, the day they adopted Lily, the laughter, the love, the heartache. He's scared, but underneath the fear is a glimmer of hope. Robin said that Eddie might miss him, too. That he has grown. And Steve thinks maybe they both have. Because Steve realizes that he, too, has changed, has settled into his responsibilities as Lily's dad.

Maybe he'll ask Eddie to join him and Lily for their movie night, and then they can put her to bed together like they did when they first had her. Before everything blew up in their faces. And then, if things go well, he could open a bottle of wine for them and they could talk.

When he arrives at Eddie's apartment building, Steve has made up his mind, his heart beating faster at the thought that maybe, just maybe, they might get a second chance.

He knocks on the door with an almost giddy smile on his face, which only grows when the door is flung wide open before he's even finished knocking.

Lily jumps into his arms and Eddie steps into the door with a smile. They exchange a few words about Lily's visit with her dad, the usual polite conversation that feels painfully superficial to Steve. He can see the exhaustion in Eddie's eyes, the way his smile doesn't quite reach them, and it only makes his heart ache more.

Summoning his courage, Steve takes a deep breath. "Hey, I was wondering if you'd like to join Lily and me for a movie night tonight? Just like old times."

Eddie hesitates, and for a brief moment, Steve's heart lifts with hope. But then Eddie glances away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Uh, I'd love to, Steve, but I actually have a date tonight."

The words hit Steve like a punch to the gut. He struggles to keep his composure, forcing a smile that feels like it's cracking his face. "Oh, that's great. I hope you have a good time."

"Thanks," Eddie replies, his gaze softening with concern. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Steve nods quickly, not trusting his voice to hold steady if he says more. "Yeah, of course. No worries. I just thought it would be nice. Anyway, have fun."

Eddie's eyes linger on Steve, as if searching for something unsaid, but he doesn't press further. Steve feels the weight of those eyes on his back as he turns to leave, Lily clutching his hand tightly. He tries to act normal, to hide the turmoil churning inside him, but every step away from Eddie's door feels like a step deeper into his own loneliness.

As they walk to the car, Lily chatters about her day, her innocent excitement a stark contrast to the storm brewing in Steve's heart. He listens, nodding and smiling at the right moments, but his mind is elsewhere, replaying the scene over and over.

When they finally reach the car, Steve lifts Lily into her seat and buckles her in, his hands trembling slightly. He takes a moment to compose himself before getting into the driver's seat, glancing at his daughter in the rearview mirror. Her wide, curious eyes meet his, and he forces another smile.

"Ready to go home, kiddo?" he asks, his voice strained but steady.

Lily nods enthusiastically, and as they drive away from Eddie's apartment, Steve's thoughts drift back to Robin's advice. Maybe he should be honest with Eddie, but tonight isn't the night. Tonight, he needs to focus on Lily, to find solace in the simple joy of spending time with his daughter.

At home, he helps Lily settle at the kitchen table with her crayons and coloring book before moving to make them dinner.

“Spaghetti-O's okay, baby?” he asks, already knowing her answer.

“Yayyy!” she cheers, lifting both arms in a way she clearly picked up from Eddie.

They both settle on the couch with their dinner on their laps, indulging in the treat as Steve starts the movie. Finding Dory, a movie Robin recommended. Lily is totally engrossed in the adventures on screen, giving Steve the freedom to let his mind wander. He tries to push those thoughts away, but the image of Eddie with some faceless guy keeps intruding.

It hurts, and he wonders again if he could have done something different. Maybe if he’d said something, told Eddie about his feelings earlier… He’s still convinced that breaking up was the right decision, that it wasn’t working and that Lily was the one suffering because of it. Back then, they had forgotten how to talk to each other. But now, Steve feels like they could re-learn, not just how to talk but how to be together, if they could give each other the time and space to do so.

He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t even hear the doorbell ring. It’s only when Lily pulls at his sleeve that he looks up.

“Huh?”

“Someone’s at the door.”

Steve's heart races as he moves to the door, unsure who could be visiting at this hour. He opens it to find Eddie standing there, a hesitant smile on his face. He’s not dressed up, instead wearing a well-worn pair of dark jeans and a soft-looking hoodie.

“Hey,” Eddie says softly.

“Hey,” Steve replies, his voice a mix of surprise and confusion. “I thought you had a date?”

Eddie scratches the back of his neck, looking a bit sheepish. “Yeah, about that… I canceled. Figured I’d rather be here with you and Lily. If that’s okay?”

Steve’s heart skips a beat, his mind racing. “Yeah, of course. Come in.”

Eddie steps inside, and Lily's face lights up. “Daddy Eddie!” she squeals, running to hug him. Eddie scoops her up, planting a kiss on her forehead.

“Hey, princess. How’s my favorite girl?”

“Good! We’re watching Finding Dory!” Lily announces proudly.

“Sounds like fun,” Eddie says, setting her down gently. He looks at Steve, his expression softening. “Can I join you?”

“Sure,” Steve says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll get you a plate.”

As they settle back on the couch, the atmosphere is charged with unspoken words and lingering glances. Eddie sits beside Steve, close enough that their shoulders occasionally brush. It’s a small contact, but it sends shivers down Steve’s spine.

Throughout the movie, Steve finds it hard to concentrate. His mind is a whirl of emotions, questions, and hopes. He glances at Eddie, who seems equally distracted, though he’s making a valiant effort to engage with Lily and the movie.

When the credits finally roll, Lily is already half asleep, nestled between them. Eddie looks at her with a tender smile, then at Steve. "She's grown so much," he says softly. "Every time I look at her, I swear she's grown another inch."

"Yeah, she has," Steve agrees, his voice just as soft. "It doesn't help that you only see her every other week."

"Ouch," Eddie winces and Steve's head whips around.

"Oh God, Eddie, no! That's not what I meant. I feel like I've been putting my foot in my mouth around you lately," Steve says with big, pleading eyes and color in his cheeks, "What I meant to say is that Lily misses you, you know. We both do."

Eddie's face softens, his eyes flickering with feeling. "I miss being with both of you, too. Every day."

Steve's heart aches at the admission and he decides to take Robin's advice. "Eddie, I..." he begins, just as Eddie says, "Steve...."

Eddie hesitates for a moment before taking a deep breath. "Steve, I was getting ready for my date, but I couldn't stop thinking about the expression on your face when I told you. It was like a punch to the gut."

Steve's eyes widen in surprise, but he stays silent, letting Eddie continue.

"I realized in that moment that all I wanted was to spend the evening with you and Lily, like a family," Eddie says, his voice trembling slightly. "No date could ever measure up to the way I feel when I'm around you."

Steve's heart races, his breath catching in his throat. "Eddie, I... I don't know what to say."

Eddie reaches out, gently taking Steve's hand in his. "You don't have to say anything right now. Just... know that I still love you, Steve. I never stopped. And I miss us, more than words can say."

Steve's eyes fill with tears, his grip on Eddie's hand tightening. "I miss us too, Eddie. Every single day."

Eddie pulls Steve into a hug, their daughter still nestled between them. "Let's take it one step at a time, okay? For Lily. For us."

Steve nods, feeling a sense of hope he hasn't felt in a long time. "Yeah, one step at a time."

As they sit there, holding each other, Steve knows this is the beginning of something new. It won't be easy, but he's hopeful that they've both learned from past mistakes. This was their second chance, and he knows they'll make it this time. Together, as a family.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 31

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

Steve plies you with kisses to the point you can’t breathe. You can’t get away from him. Your top hangs beneath your chest, exposing you to him and the cooling air. He purrs and nuzzles your hair as he pulls you against him once more. 

“It’s getting late,” he purrs, “we should go inside. How about a movie night, sweetie? You and me?” 

You stare at his neck, too ashamed to look higher than that. His hands squeeze your hips and he wiggles his, reminding you of his excitement and your unbidden need. You hate that you feel this way, that you burn each time he touches you. 

“Okay,” you murmur, hoping only for a little bit of space. 

“Mm, alright,” he slips his hands up your sides and grabs the straps of your bathing suit, he raises them up to your shoulders and ties a knot behind your neck. He traces the edges and fixes the wet fabric across your tits, giving a squeeze before he wades backward, “mm, that looks so good on you... how about you go get changed? I left a surprise on your bed.” 

You nod and follow him to the ladder. He lets you go first, tickling the back of your thigh as you climb out. He stays back to close the pool and your heartbeat slowly calms, though you know it’s far from over. 

You’re sluggish as you get to the back door. It’s like you’re stuck in a fog. You know exactly what is happening, what he wants, but knowing you can’t stop any of it has you apathetic. You can only let it happen. 

You go upstairs and pause at the top. You peek down at Steve’s door. It’s closed. Your mom’s in there, she must be. Hidden away. Locked up as you deceive her. 

You continue into the guest room. Your room now, as he calls it. You go to the foot of the bed and stare at the night gown spread across the duvet. It’s a pale blush colour, the top is cotton but the skirt is sheer with a shimmery liner underneath. There’s a frill around the hem and a bow along the chest. 

You strip off the swimsuit and put it to dry on the window ledge. You retreat and cover yourself with the nightie. It’s too small. You’re about to pop out of it as the thin straps are stretched to their limit, you feel your bum peeking out the bottom. 

You try not to let the horror sink too deep. No use in crying. Nothing you can do. You leave the room and descend. The sliding door shuts and you hear Steve in the kitchen. 

You go out to see him with a towel around his waist. Even through the extra layer, his erection prods. He’s mopping up the wet spots you left on the floor. You hang your head, “sorry, I didn’t...” 

“No worries, sweetie,” he looks up beneath his blonde lashes, “oh, baby, you look...mm, you get some popcorn going and choose a movie. I’ll finish this up and get changed.” 

“Right,” you agree and go to the counter, stopping cluelessly before the cupboard. 

“In the pantry,” he points to the narrow door on the other side of the fridge, “bowls are up there.” 

You turn to see him point. You give another nod and obey. It’s easy to do the little things. What, in the end, will hardly matter. 

You enter the pantry and search out a box of popcorn, taking out a bag, and return to the kitchen. He’s gone. You’re not comforted by his absence. You put the bag in the microwave and grab a big bowl from the cupboard. You wait, watching the numbers count down, your pulse picking up with each digit. 

You pour the hot kernels into the bowl and toss the bag. The smell is not so delicious as your stomach churns. You go to the living room and set down your heaping snack on the low table. You take the remote and sit on the section. 

You click on the first title that pops up on the screen. Some redundant romantic comedy you never heard of. You set down the remote and teeter on the edge of the couch. You lower your head and fold your hands. You can’t prepare yourself for what comes next. 

Steve appears before the intro credits end. He comes around as you sit back and he lowers himself next to you. He wears only a pair of boxers. You gulp at your quick glance of his naked torso and legs. 

He’s not looking at the screen and you can feel it. He leans back, slipping his arm over your shoulders. You try to curl into yourself. 

“That nightie, sweetie,” he pets your leg just beneath the hem, “you like it?” 

You nod, “mhmm. It’s... soft.” 

“How about tomorrow I take you to buy some more? We can get you all sorts of stuff? Cute clothes, maybe some toys...” 

“Toys?” you blink. 

“To play with...” his fingertips trail up your leg, “to experiment...” 

He leans in as the television glares in your vision. You stare at the blurring hues as he presses his lips to your temple. You whimper as his hand creeps over the skirt of the nightie and along your stomach. He cups your chest, kneading and fondling, purring as he grazes your cheek with his mouth. 

“Kiss me, sweetie,” he commands. 

You turn your head and meet his lips. He pulls you into him, urging you up onto him as he lays back on the long couch. You turn onto your stomach to keep your mouth on his, your hands on his broad chest. He growls into you as his hand slips up to the back of your head, his other squeezing your chest greedily. 

You moan as you feel a pluck. He drags his hand along your chest and shoulder, following the length of your arm. He guides your hand from beneath you and along his muscled stomach. You squeak as you touch the top of his boxers. He tilts you to once side as your lips part and you try to resist his strength. 

“It’s okay, baby, I just want you to feel me,” he pushes your hand under the fabric and his throbbing tip pokes you. You whimper as he presses your hand around it and groans, “that’s for you, baby. That’s how sexy you are.” 

Your eyes widen as you look him in the face, his blue irises smokey and slitted. You poke your tongue out to wet your lips, shunting out breaths as your chest swells. He moves your hand lower, angling it to wrap around him. He’s thick... or feels like it. He keeps his hand around yours as he guides you down to his base and back up. 

“How does that feel?” 

You can’t speak. You just gape at him. He smirks. 

“Give me another kiss,” he says. 

You do what he says. What else can you do? You tremble as he pumps your hand over him, up, down. You feel the veins beneath the taut skit and a trickle of wetness as you reach the tip. He groans again and pulls away from your mouth once more. 

“Oh, sweetie,” he takes your hand from his boxers and twines his fingers through yours. He kisses your knuckles and rolls his hips, “you are so good.” 

You hide your face as his hand slips from your head and he hooks his arm around you. He sits up and swiftly flips you, spreading himself over you. He smothers you with a kiss. You murmur around his tongue as it invades your mouth. He rocks his pelvis into you, your legs splayed around him. 

He lifts himself away, nibbling longingly on your lip before pulling back completely. He pets your shoulder and rubs his fingertip over the strap of the night, urging it down. 

“I wanna try something, sweetie, stay just like this,” he says. 

He pushes himself up to his knees. He pulls down the other strap and frees your chest. You quiver and stare at the ceiling. He moves over you, straddling your stomach as he tugs down the elastic of his boxers. You squeak again and dig your nails into the cushion. 

Your eyes sting with tears. He strokes himself as his boxers crumple beneath his dick. You can’t look. Don’t look. He shifts further up your torso and hovers over your chest. You seal your lips fearfully. 

He gropes your chest and bounces it. He lowers himself, angling so his dick is between your tits. He pushes them together and tilts back, then forward, his tip hitting your chin as you yelp. He hushes you and does it again, again, again. Each time quicker than the last. More desperate. 

He thrusts and the friction grows hot. He groans and growls, rutting as he shakes the cushions with his frantic motion. You turn your head as he fucks your tits. You hear a noise, a click, then a creak. There’s a soft drone then Steve’s name. It’s your mom! 

“Steve,” she calls again from up the stairs, “where...” her voice trails off and you hear a thump on the wall, “honey, please...” 

Steve moves his hand over your chest, pressing his hand to the front of your tits to keep them together as he uses the other to cover your mouth. His face strains as he fucks harder and harder. He huffs and suppresses a snarl as he hangs his head back. There’s a slicky heat over your face as you close your eyes against the sudden explosion. 

He cums in thick ribbons over your chin and lips, up to your nose and cheeks, even your forehead. He quakes as you hear your mom struggling to get down the stairs. The couch lurches as he puffs and pushes himself off of you. You stay there, paralysed, hiding beneath your eyelids. 

“Steve,” your mom whines. 

“Honey, what’s going on?” He calls back, his voice raspy and dry. 

“I don’t feel right,” her words slog heavily, as if she can barely form them. 

“Let me get you back to bed,” he coos, “what’re you doing up?” 

“I dunno...” she slurs. She sounds senseless and her footsteps are uneven and staggered. 

“Come on,” Steve coaxes, “it’s fine. I got you.” 

[mingi-s-dimples]

Can I request a yeosang x reader smut where she's hurt during the concert and waits outside and Yeosang spots her and takes her to the Hotel he's staying in but she's bleeding and he wants to see the would( it's on her side where her bra is) so he bluntly asks her to take off her top and bra etc?

Please make it to where they have intercourse and she's a shy one. So when she squirts she gets really really embarrassed

perfect opportunity - yeosang

REQUEST BY: anon

pairing: bf!yeosang x gf fem!reader

rating: 18+

genre: slight idol au, romance, some fluff, smut (not filth)

summary: you get hurt at the concert, but that only ends up being a nice and wanted opportunity for the two of you.

WC: 2k

warnings: bf!yeosang, gf fem!reader, first time intercourse, cumming, squirting, some nice fluff here and there, mentions of blood (reader got hurt at the concert), lil bit of overstim (reason of reader squirting), pet names, smut (def not filth), aftercare ☹️🤍, completely consensual!, unprotected (WRAP UP IRL!), unedited, probably forgot something.

Author's Note: this was really nice to write actually. Anon. I hope you'll enjoy it! I loved to build up the crumb of plot for this one, I absolutely loved the circumstance they were in. I hope I'll see you around more, anon! (Also anon 💭, I didn't forget about you!!!!!! It's in my drafts 😇)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

The energy in the venue was electrifying, with thousands of fans cheering, their voices blending into one thunderous roar. The lights danced across the stage, illuminating Yeosang as he performed with the effortless grace that always took my breath away. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, captivated by the way he commanded the stage. His presence was magnetic, and the crowd responded to every move he made.

As the beat of the music intensified, the crowd surged with excitement. People around me started jumping, their enthusiasm contagious. But in the chaos, I suddenly felt a sharp push from behind. My body jolted forward, and I stumbled, my chest colliding with the barrier beside me. Pain radiated through my side, sharp and sudden, catching me off guard. A wave of dizziness washed over me, and the noise of the concert started to feel distant, almost muffled.

Knowing I needed to get some air, I carefully made my way out of the crowd, each step feeling heavier than the last. The moment I stepped outside, the cool night air hit me, wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. It was a chilly night, the kind of August evening where the heat of the day fades into a crisp, refreshing breeze. Despite the circumstances, I couldn’t help but appreciate the night’s coolness; I had always loved these chilled nights in August, where the air was cool enough to wake you up but not cold enough to make you shiver.

Leaning against the wall outside the venue, I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The pain in my chest was still there, a dull ache now, but the dizziness was beginning to fade. The distant hum of the concert was still audible, and I smiled faintly, thinking of Yeosang on stage, hoping he hadn’t noticed my absence.

*about an hour later*

As I was sitting on the bench, at the back of the stadium where the boys would come from, far away from the main entrance and the public, I saw someone rushing over to me. It was Yeosang.

"Baby, what happened, hm?" he said catching his breath. "I suddenly couldn't see you in your spot and I panicked. Are you okay?" he said, looking worried.

"Yes, yes. Nothing to worry about. We were jumping and I was pushed and hit the barricade rail, hurt my side a bit but I promise I'm okay! I just got out to get some air and that's all" you said, trying to reassure him.

"Hey, let me see" Yeosang mumbled, trying to get you to move your hand. You did as he wanted and he saw a bloddy spot on your side, still a bit wet, meaning the injury was still open.

"BABE JESUS WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S OKAY?!" Yeosang shouted, hugging you thightly. "Let's go to the hotel, let me see the wound there, alright?"

"Mhm, okay. Let's go, baby."

*several minutes later*

"Here baby, let me see" Yeosang said approaching you after closing the door.

"Where is the injury, hm? Tell me babe" he said willing to help you.

"On my right side, here" you claimed, tapping on your torso, right besides your bra.

"Oh, there? Take your shirt off"

"Hm?"

"Take it off, let me see"

"Uh, okay sure"

You were confused at how adamantly he was asking you to undress yourself, but he was your boyfriend anyways. Matter of fact, the two of you haven't been in a relationship for too long. You only officialised it about 2 months ago, both of you being really shy about it and all. Like, you knew he liked you and he also knew you liked him, but it was so hard for him to confess to you at first. You gave him a nod, softly blushing at the situation you were in. He took of your shirt, leaving you in your bra in front of him. He gulped at the view, himself shy and hesitant, but you gave him a soft kiss and he felt more confident. After all, it was the first time he has seen you like... this. You were feeling a bit aroused, not knowing what would happen next if you gave him the idea of having sex with him for the first time. But you waited.

He froze for a moment, watching you contently. He hovered his eyes over your collarbones, then over your shoulders. His gaze darkened upon seeing your cleavage, chest rising with slow and steady breaths. He slowly approached your body with his hands, almost scared to touch you, thinking he might make you uncomfortable. He unbuckled your bra, letting it fall by itself from your chest. His hands stopped at your waist, squeezing it tightly.

"Ah, fuck" he mumbled, looking down at his pants, a tent forming. His flushed face, he was trying to look you in your eyes but he couldn't.

"I'm so s-sorry, babe. I don't know what's gotten into me" he said rapidly, flustered.

"No, no, don't worry! Actually I-uh.. was enjoying it as much as y-you were" the words came out of your mouth, his eyes searching yours.

Yeosang tried to continue without thinking about the situation in.. that way. "Give me a bandaid, I already disinfected it. Let me stick it".

"Oh, yes sure. Here"

He lifted your arm, the wound exactly on the side of your chest, under the place where your bra would be supposed to sit. He slowly but firmly tapped the bandaid, making sure it was stuck completely. Then, his hands went to your thighs, rubbing them slowly up and down, trying to say something.

"Uh, -h, baby."

"Y-yes? you mumbled.

"C-can I?" he said, closing the gap between the two of you, his hands traveling politely, gently on your body.

"Y-yes, Yeo" you said and went in for a kiss, which he deepened in a second. A slow, lustful kiss, more of a longed one. You knew he might have wanted to do this for a while, but both of you were so shy, neither of you could make a step. But this was an opportunity he didn't let go of and gave in.

"Are you sure? T-tell me if you want me to stop" he whispered, putting you slowly on the bed, a pillow under your waist and him on top of you, inspecting every part of your fair body. His hands were travelling, from your collarbones, to your waist and to your thighs, then again up to your chest, softly fondling with your breasts. You could feel his hands slightly trembling, himself being so shy about it, that you could've laughed. But the next move threw you off a bit, as his right hand went to your pants, slowly unbuttoning them. You could feel how arousal was pooling in your panties, feeling the urge to close your legs for some friction, but as soon as you were left only in your panties in front of your boyfriend, your chest rose with a relieved sigh.

"B-babe you're so.. pretty and.. beautiful" your boyfriend stuttered, trying to unbuckle his pants, but fumbled two times. He was staring at you, no wonder he failed. He was eating you up on the spot with his stare. When he finally undressed himself and was only left in his briefs, you gulped at the sight. He was big, you didn't know what to expect before this exact moment, but you were... pleasantly surprised.

He then approached you, his crotch softly brushing over your thigh as he got to your panties, pulling them down. He then froze for a moment, debating what to do. He approached you with a soft but deep kiss, then he left kisses all the way from your neck and collarbones, to you belly and your thighs. He looked at you contently for a moment.

"C-can I?" he said, refering to what he wanted to do all night since you've met and saw you like that.

"Y-yes, please Yeosang"

He didn't hesitate. His right hand went between your thighs, softly rubbing your wet folds. He was still looking at you from time to time, to make sure you're doing good. You gave him a nod of approval and he pushed two of his fingers inside, receiving a soft moan from your slowly rosing chest. He was working his way in, shy at first but slowly getting more confident, he was prepping you up for himself, taking his time.

"A-are you ready?" he mumbled, shy and almost quiet enough to not hear him. He went in for a kiss, guiding his length to you cunt, pushing himself in, slowly but surely. He let you get used to his size, then with slow thrusts he closed the gap between the two of you. Your legs were over his, leaving room for him to bottom down with every thrust. He was still deep in the kiss, feeling your soft moans revebrating through his body, sending shivers down his spine. It hurt, you woulnd't lie but.. it felt so good at the same time. You were making love with your lovely boyfriend, feeling his love and sweetness radiating from his body. His pace got a little faster, one of his hands on your waist and one on your back, he lifted you up to sit on him. He was hugging you thightly, all touchy on your back, feeling up every inch of your soft skin.

"Ngh-h Yeo, I t-think I'm close" you tried to mumble, your breath hitching with every thrust. His length hit your sweet spot every time, sending shivers through your whole body. Your chest rose with every breath and whine you let out, feeling how the heat in your belly was getting tighter and tighter. When he bottomed down again, you felt yourself trembling under his grasp, creaming on his dick, feeling it twitching inside you. He slowed down his thrusts for a moment, giving you time to catch your breath. He then suddenly sped them up a bit, your face rose with confusion.

"I k-know you've finished, babe" Yeosang whispered.

"But I' didn't so-" he stopped for a moment "I also want to finish" he mumbled, his voice rumbling and sending shivers down your spine.

You could feel your high building up again, his dick hitting all your right spots and his pelvic bone also hitting your clit whenever he completely bottomed out. But in the end it wasn't your... high that you were catching. Yeosang thrusted into you a couple more times, holding onto you for closure and finally came, still fucking you through his orgasm, but slowly. Suddenly, you could feel how overstimulated and overwhelmed you were and when he bottomed out for the last time, you squirted all over him.

"Oh- my fucking god"

"I'm so s-sorry Yeosang" you mumbled embarrassed, trying to get off of him.

"What are you sorry for? You... squirted, that's all" he reassured you, but you weren't quite.. content with what happened.

"H-how could this happen... oh my god" you burried your forehead in the nape of his collarbones, you didn't want your eyes to meet his.

"Babe, relax. It's normal. I should be sorry for overstimulating you after you came, that wasn't very nice of me, but you felt so good... I had to finish" he said, giving you soft forehead kisses.

The two of you stayed like that for a minute, feelings overwhelming you with how loved you were by him, by your boyfriend. He then got up and washed you up, then tucked you in bed. He did the same and while you were waiting for him, the only thought that was racing through your mind was how long he must have waited for you to have courage, but you were so happy to finally give in.

He then came in the bed and tucked himself in, turned on a random movie on the tv and stroked your hair and forehead to sleep.

NETWORKS:

@illusionnet

@blossomnet

TAGLIST (join my permanent taglist here !):

@mingleshine @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @musiclovingfairy

[akutsuir]

── .✦ 𝙎𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙏𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩

Synopsis: How would they react to you giving them the punishment of silence?

Characters: Childe, Diluc / Separated

Warnings: kidnapping, emotional blackmail, forced relationship, social isolation, reader is a little easy to manipulate.

notes: I didn't like this one so much (remember: english is not my native language)

⟢ Childe

He would be patient at first. He would pretend not to care so much about the absence of your words and how you practically pretended he didn’t exist.

He would leave you alone in your corner, faithfully believing that at a certain point you would end up giving in. After all, Childe didn't think you could handle the loneliness of being your own company for long.

However, when he realizes that you are still standing firm, perhaps even firmer than at the beginning, as if you had really built a wall between the two of you, he begins to become desperate.

First, he would bring gifts, of any kind, of any material and from any place.

He would approach your figure sitting with your back to him on the bed, and place the decorated box next to you.

“I bought this in Inazuma. It was in a very famous Kimonos store, the saleswoman said the fabric was of the best quality.” The excited tone of his voice makes you glance quickly at the box, before turning them back to the landscape outside the window, without saying a single word.

He keeps trying every day, always getting the same reaction from you.

Then he tries to start the conversation with things he knows you like, he brings you flowers, he cooks for you, this man even tries to pretend that he got hurt during one of the missions hoping that you will show some concern.

After several failed attempts, Childe loses patience.

“How long do you intend to continue being stubborn?” He pulls the book that held your attention out of your hands, throwing it carelessly onto the coffee table. His action makes you give him an angry look.

Was it difficult for him to leave you alone?

“I’ve given you enough time to get used to it, don’t you think?” Childe stops in front of you, his expression was nothing like the falsely happy one he carried everywhere. This time you really didn't know how or what to say, since the day you were cruelly locked up in this mansion, this was the first time he had confronted you directly.

“I don’t want to make this unpleasant for one of us, but you really leave me no choice by acting so childish.” Would he hurt you? Thinking about the possibility makes you involuntarily tighten the hem of your dress, you didn't want to show fear, but your body clearly wouldn't obey you.

After all, who are you next to the 11th Fatui Harbinger?

Faced with your unbearable silence, he continues.

“You know? Your parents… Seems to be going a through complicated situation recently….” Your eyes widen, standing up completely, now face to face with Childe.

“What did you do with them?!” Your voice was filled with despair. This was a thousand times worse than whatever he decided to do to you.

“Wow! Are you able to speak now?” He lets out an ironic laugh. The lack of an answer to your question despairs you even more.

“Childe, what did you do with them?” You repeat, this time the fear in your words was even clearer. What the hell had happened? What did he mean by a complicated situation?

“Calm down, I didn’t do anything. They just seem to be facing certain financial difficulties, that’s all it got to me.” The amused smile on his face didn't calm you down at all, on the contrary, it made you even more anxious.

Just like you, your family never had a stable or balanced financial life, your parents worked hard to maintain the house and provide you with a minimally adequate living condition. It was complicated, but it was enough for you. That's why when Childe showed up offering your father a chance at a job at the Northland Bank, you should have stopped him from accepting, maybe that wouldn't have given him the chance to have something to blackmail you into and make you come with him to this icy hell he called Snezhnaya.

Whoever you wanted to fool, we know perfectly well that he would find another alternative to bring you with him.

“But… And my father? He was earning enough before. What happened?"

“He was fired.” The calmness in which he spoke made you increasingly anxious, you knew that despite what Childe said before, he had definitely done something.

He was the only one who had enough power to do this.

"Why? Did he do something? Is there no way to reverse this?” You practically begged, imagining your parents in that situation ran deep in your chest.

“Well, who knows? Maybe I can do something. Let’s talk about this a little, I’d like to hear your beautiful voice a little more.”

There it is.

Oh, how cruel he can be sometimes….

⟢ Diluc

This man is desperate from beginning to end.

From the moment you start acting as if he didn't exist, his conscience weighs absurdly.

He's not very good at making conversation, so he tries to get your attention with actions. He brings you some non-alcoholic drinks from the Angels' Share, the ones that contain your favorite fruit. He leaves them in the kitchen waiting for you to see and drink them. However, they remain untouched on the counter. He always tries to get closer to you. If you are sitting in the room, he is standing in the same room a few centimeters away, pretending to read a document or give an order to an employee passing by.

When it's time to sleep, he always wishes you a good night, hoping to get at least a murmur or a grumble in return, but you just lay your head on the pillow as if you hadn't heard anything. The same situation occurs when you wake up, at the coffee table, he welcomes you with a good morning, but you just pick up some fruit on the table, without saying a single word, before locking yourself in the room.

One day, in a desperate measure, he allows you to leave.

“Do you… Do you want to go for a walk?” Diluc asks when you were about to leave the table, ready to isolate yourself in the shared room again.

You stop in your tracks, wondering if you heard right.

“What?…” You look at him over your shoulder, without turning around completely.

Seeing that his question had finally provoked some reaction from you, he stands up, now feeling a little more hopeful.

“I asked if you wanted to go out for a bit?” Diluc tries to contain the anxiety in his voice, after so long you were finally saying some words to him.

“Are you serious?” You turn completely towards him, your voice was almost like a whisper, it sounded like you were scared that he was just messing with you.

“Of course… I can take you if you want…” Ha! It was obvious.

For a moment you felt like a huge idiot for thinking he would let you go out alone. Without him.

But still, it was better than being locked up in the confines of this dark mansion twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. It wouldn't hurt to accept this walk alongside Diluc. It is not?

“I… I want to go.” If you hadn't looked away, you would have noticed the euphoria that momentarily filled the reddish eyes of the man in front of you.

“Fine. Some employees are off today, so we won't have to worry about them coming up to me all the time.”

That doesn't comfort you at all.

With a slight nod, your feet slowly guide you to the main door of the mansion. Even if you didn't want to show it, the happiness on your face was noticeable, especially to Diluc. How long has it been since you felt the sun's rays directly touch your skin? When was the last time you observed the vines other than through the bedroom window where you isolated yourself even more every day?

That was good for you, but it was even better for Diluc.

After all, without realizing it, you had handed him the most effective way to make you notice his presence every day now.

It would be bad to miss others opportunities like this just because you were having a tantrum and refused to exchange a few simple words with him, wouldn't it?

Oh, how happy he was.

tags:

[goldsainz]

TALK IT OUT — one shot.

pairing: mick schumacher x reader

2K CELEBRATION. MASTERLIST.

taglist: @lorarri @lpab @whatthefuckerr @noncannonships @lunnnix

summary: misunderstandings are never fun, especially when others are involved.

request: “can we have an angst prompt? i personally want to see mick cry because nobody did write him crying yet - lmk if someone did please ❛ why are you avoiding me? ❜ + mick schumacher”

warnings: mentions of cheating, angst to comfort, the ending is rushed im sorry.

NOTE: first mick fic ever… kinda nervous, kinda excited about it. also hope i did your idea justice, i actually struggled to write sad mick bc he should never be sad as far as i’m concerned😭 that is my golden boy and i will fight for him if needed. (this is like 800 words longer than intended it to)

[ word count: 1,6k ]

Tabloids always lied. You knew this, yet there was a small part of you that knew that beneath all those lies a little bit of the truth always shone from beneath them. 

You trusted Mick with your whole heart, something that was essential considering he could be gone for several weeks or even months. It wasn’t that you lacked trust in him, you didn’t trust your own overthinking and negative thoughts.

But this time was different, something in your gut told you that this time was different. Something about the way the photo was taken and the way he was smiling, it just didn't make sense. Especially knowing he had told he had no plans of going out. But there he was, smiling down at a girl who looked nothing like you while you waited for him to come back from working abroad.

Suddenly, all the emotions and excitement you had about him coming home turned into pure dread as you figured out what the hell you were going to do. There was a chance that Mick didn’t cheat on you, but the chance felt too foreign for your broken heart to even consider. If Mick was the man you thought he was, he wasn’t someone who would betray you like that, but the situation was too bad to think straight.

It was late at night when your boyfriend arrived, you heard the door open and close all while clutching your pillow tightly. You hoped he would just see your form and assume you’re asleep, leaving you and your thoughts alone. You hoped he wouldn’t take notice of the tears that damped the pillow, the way your breath stuttered a little from all the crying.

The rustle from his bags didn’t stir you. He didn’t call your name like he usually did when he arrived home late from a weeks-long trip. You assumed he didn’t call for you because he saw your “sleeping” form and chose to leave you alone, probably because he knew how much you loved to sleep and knew better than to wake you up. 

After a while, the bed dipped as Mick made himself comfortable beneath the bed sheets. He settled next to you, moving around as he draped an arm around your waist. For a moment you relaxed slightly from his touch, like all the worries in the world could be erased simply because he touched you. In all honesty, his absence has made you slightly touch-starved and you let yourself have this moment of peace because you had craved it for weeks. It didn’t take long for reality to settle in though. The reminder of his actions haunted you, it had since you saw the tabloid just mere hours ago.

You fell eventually asleep, albeit late and with a struggle. The heat of Mick’s body had killed you to sleep and the tiredness of being sad had your body calling it a night. 

Waking up wasn’t easy. You wanted to pretend the day before had occurred, and in your head if you were asleep forever then you didn’t have to confront whatever happened. A part of you knew that if Mick didn’t do what the article suggested he did, then your relationship could either go on like it was or it would never be the same. You knew yourself, you knew that a small part of you would always have the nagging thought of “what if”, a thought that would follow you around forever.

You stretched as you got out of bed, feeling your boyfriend's sleeping form not shift in the slightest. You brushed your teeth and did your morning routine like usual, just this time with a terrible feeling at the pit of your stomach.

It wasn’t long after that Mick woke up, his eyes tired and his blonde hair a mess. You had your back turned to him as you prepared breakfast, this time instead of making it for the both of you, you just did two toasts and a glass of juice for yourself. 

“Hey, how are you?” He said, his voice raspy from just waking up. You just took a bite of your toast and ignored his words, almost acting as if he wasn’t standing near you.

If Mick found your acting strange, he didn’t outright mention it. Instead, he leaned down and went to press a kiss to your lips, just for you to turn your head sideways as you pretended to grab the glass of juice. His lips met your cheek, and while he would never complain about how he kissed you, Mick had been longing to kiss you ever since he left you. It was something he always looked forward to doing whenever he had to leave for long periods of time, or even short ones.

“I missed you.” His voice is unsure now. Unsure about your actions and if you will respond to him. Your humming to his words does little to console the feeling he gets from you ignoring him.

You place the used dishware in the sink, the clattering of the plates disturbs the uncomfortable silence that surrounds you both. 

Usually Mick knows how to keep his negative emotions in check pretty well. He never shouts when he’s mad, or cries when he’s upset, he just tries his best to talk out whatever is happening. But right now, having his girlfriend avoid him when he’s come back from an exhausting trip, is just too much for him to comprehend.

You haven’t even done much to get him teary-eyed, it’s just the simple fact that he craves your attention and you’re not giving it to him. He doesn’t even know why you can’t be bothered to give him the time of day, or why you seem so uncomfortable around him.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Mick asks you after some time goes by, watching as you do everything around the room except look at him. Something in you cracks at the way his voice breaks while asking the question, you know that if you look up at him and see his glossy eyes you will crumble under them. You will throw any anger you have towards him out the window, and as much as you want to, you need more than that to forgive or even forget whatever happened.

“I don’t know, you tell me.��� “If I knew why you were avoiding me I wouldn’t be asking.”

“What were you doing Thursday night?” His face is one of confusion, his brows furrowing and nose slightly scrunching up as he assesses your question.

“What?”

“What were you doing Thursday night?” You repeat, this time your voice cracks as you ask him the one question you dread to hear the answer from.

“I worked at the factory till late at night.”

“That’s all? So, you didn’t go out at all?”

Mick’s face is one of pure frustration. Frustration because he can’t believe how oblivious he had been to your feelings, how he went out and you didn’t mention anything about it. Frustration because he should’ve known that the media would get to him and by relation, in between the two of you.

“I did.” He admits, “But it was with a couple of friends, whatever it is that you saw is not what it looks like. I swear.” 

“You just coincidentally had a girl all up on you, and you just smiled down at her?” 

“I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/N. I wished I could say I did, but honestly, if there was a girl next to me I can assure you I wasn’t smiling because of her or to her, for that matter.” 

An unshed tear falls down his cheek at the assumption you're making. The notion that you would ever think he would be unfaithful to you breaks his heart into a million little pieces, like he knows yours did the moment the idea that he cheated on you settled in. 

“I’m so sorry if I ever made you feel like I would cheat on you.” Mick approaches you slowly, wary of the way you might react. He doesn't think he would bear it if you pulled away from his touch, but he would understand. “But I would never ever do that. I need you to know that.”

When your boyfriend finally reaches you, you can't help but lean into his touch. The hug he gives you is almost crushing, likes he's scared you will run away from him at any given moment. It is just as comforting as it is devastating the way he is holding you, a part of you is grateful that he is so honest and raw with you, but there is a part of you that cant help and question if his words hold any truth, if he is not like many of the other men you've known through the course of your life. 

“I want to believe you.” You whisper against him, “I really do, Mick.”

His chin is pressed to the top of your head and you feel him shift to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to, schatz, and that's a promise.” There is something about the way he says that, something about the sincerity his words hold that makes you believe him. It wipes away the worries you had and replaces them with pure love, in your heart of hearts you know that Mick would never intentionally hurt you, and if he could help it, ever. 

You know just by his words that you’ll be alright.

No matter the tabloids or the drama that follows you, you'll be alright. 

[imdoingaokay]

Cullen x f!Inquisitor/Reader - After It All...

summary - after the events of Veilguard, Cullen meets his wife in Minrathous

word count - 900+

warnings - fem!reader, HUGE VEILGUARD SPOILERS (it's just one really big one, but it's still there, please don't read if you don't want to be spoiled!), mentions of children, Inquisitor's race is left up to the reader, some artistic license taken in general + what's going on in the south of Thedas (specifically Ferelden)

a/n - hey guys. been a while. I graduated nursing school and started a job, so I've been a wee bit busy. but obviously, I gotta write. I missed y'all. like- a lot. I may do the other Inquisition romances if I feel like it or if it gets asked, but I needed to write this for my sake. I feel very strongly about how much/little some characters were mentioned lol. anyways, enjoy!

It’s nighttime when she returns. 

Cullen wasn’t sleeping, though that wasn’t necessarily by choice. Aside from seeing her, nothing about this trip was by choice.

He would’ve rather their children stay with his sister and would’ve much rather not have them tag along with Cullen to Tevinter of all places. But with Redcliffe and The Blight… he couldn’t leave them anywhere. Not while she was gone. What if something happened in his absence? He’d… Maker, he knew not what he’d do.

Cullen struggled to leave his siblings behind in Gwaren, but they had shooed both him and the children away.  He could only hope for their safety. 

Still, he held no affection for Tevinter or her people. The way the family was sneered at whenever one of them was to speak, whenever someone threw a glance over to them, it was obvious. The people of Tevinter knew what he and, more importantly, his children were. Then again, maybe it wasn’t the best move to bring the dogs… they were a dead giveaway.

“Wasn’t like I could leave them behind…” Cullen murmured, glancing around the dark room. He shook his head and exited the large bedroom before quietly strolling down the hall.

The house was rented by Dorian, when Cullen had arrived and promptly assumed he was in the wrong place, Dorian ushered him back.

“You don’t expect me to let you stay in some inn, do you?” The magister had scoffed

The only thing that calmed Cullen’s nerves was the mention that they’d be under constant supervision by Morrigan… somehow.

And speaking of Morrigan, Cullen passed by an empty room. Morrigan had popped by and suggested leaving an eluvian inside for easier access, something Cullen shut down immediately. He wasn’t letting some fade demon/spirit/creature come anywhere near his family.

Cullen passed by the bedrooms, peeking in through the cracks and seeing the familiar locks of hair peeking out from under the covers. The children were so excited to be in such a fancy house, after living in the countryside for so long, it was almost like a vacation for the children. Cullen smiled to himself, remembering how the children ran throughout the halls, chasing one another while Cullen followed behind with the dogs. If Tevinter wasn’t such a mess and didn’t hate his love so much, he wouldn’t mind coming up for a vacation occasionally.

Cullen slowly made his way back to the bedroom, his thoughts drifting to his wife. Maker, he missed her. So did the children. Everyone missed her. Her letters were wonderful, but they could never replace the thing they all wanted.

“Maker…” he sighed, leaning against a wall. He hadn’t heard any news, no whispers of death, but… what if…

CREEEEAAAAAK

Cullen shot up, suddenly not tired or worried. That was the front door, he was certain. He quickly went into the bedroom and grabbed his sword before walking back down the hallway, checking inside the rooms quietly, making sure his children were safe before moving down.

He heard the intruder's footsteps and finally thought he got them, jumping out from the corner with his blade pointed at their throat. He’d ask questions. Who sent them? Who knew they were there? Whatever else came to mind.

But his thoughts were all thrown away when he finally saw his prey. Those eyes, those lips, Maker that voice calling for him.

“My love…” he breathed, letting the sword drop down, “Why didn’t you…”

“I wanted to be quiet…” The Inquisitor whispered, watching her husband nearly drop his sword before enveloping her in a tight hug. How long had it been? Weeks? Months? Too long, that was certain. Ever since he had arrived in Minrathous, their communication had been brief, he wasn’t even able to learn of Varric’s passing through her, only through Dorian, who had passed by one day to bring sweets for the children and somber news to Cullen. That evening, it had been a difficult task to explain to the children why Uncle Varric wouldn’t be coming by next summer after all. So much death in so little time, The Blights, the dragons, and with his lifeline off in The North while his nightmares grew worse in The South, Cullen was even more stressed than he was during The Inquisition.

So lost in his thoughts, Cullen hadn’t even noticed the tears that had slipped down his cheeks, it was his wife who, after finally breaking away, wiped the tears with some whispered words of affection.

They stayed like that for a while, in a tight embrace, occasionally pulling away only to be brought back again. And even when they had pulled away completely, it was only so she could put her things down. “We should go to bed…” She hummed, “I think the children will sense us and-” She began, only to be cut off by the pitter-patter of feet and the crying out of The Inquisitor’s other, newer, title.

Over an hour later, after some tears and many kisses pressed to cheeks, noses, and foreheads, the happy family lay together in one bed. The children passed out quickly, leaving Cullen and his beloved again awake.

“We have a lot of work to do…” He whispers, “The South is-” He begins before feeling his wife’s finger on his lips.

“Tomorrow…” She says, “I only want you and *this*-” She gestures to the children sprawled out over the bed, “... tonight if that’s alright. Tomorrow, we’ll…” She yawns, and Cullen smiles.

“I know…” He says, draping an arm over his wife his youngest, who planted themselves in between the pair, “I love you…” He sighs happily. “I love you too.” She smiles and finally closes her eyes. Cullen realized that she was probably exhausted, as was Cullen. So, finally feeling at peace, Cullen closed his eyes and fell asleep almost instantly.

That night, Cullen slept dreamlessly, something he had missed almost as much as he missed her.

[not-magdi]

"Home for the Holidays"

Summary: Going home for the holidays with your boyfriend 

Word Count: 1.9k

Reading time: 7 min 40sec

Genre: Fluff

A/N 

A Pedri image for some change again, I wasn't sure at first with who I was going to write it but he gave me better vibes for this. 

Hope you enjoy it!

Love you guys Magdi <3

(His smile aagghh, it's so cute!!)

You were currently packing your bags as you were flying home for Christmas. The whole day, you were in a good mood, blasting Christmas songs through your speakers and dancing around your house to them.

Since you moved to Barcelona for your new job six months ago, you haven't been able to travel home for once. Work and other things were always getting in the way.

But now you finally have time to go home and spend the holidays with your family. You were beyond excited you hadn't seen your parents in a long time, the last time they visited you was in summer when they came to visit you and meet your new boyfriend, Pedro Gonzáles.

The same boyfriend who is currently sitting on the floor beside you, laughing at all the stupid Christmas sweaters you own.

"Amor, why do you have so many of them !?"

"Because they're awsome. Look! This one has little kittens with hats on them!"

You threw a reindeer one at him as he still laughed at you. The two of you continued to joke around until you heard your phone ringing.

"It's my mum, give me a sec."

As you picked up, your smile faltered when you heard the sad voice of your mum as she greeted you. Walking out of the room, you tried to find a quiet corner so you could speak to her.

"Hey Mum, is everything alright?" You asked her concerned.

"Well, not quite. We just got a national wetter warning for the whole country. There's a big snowstorm coming. All airports cancelled their flights to here."

Your phone nearly fell out of your hand as you heard the news. "No please, no." Tears started to gather in your eyes as you let the information sink in.

"I'm so sorry, honey, but we can visit you soon, after this storm is over. I promise."

Snapping out of your thoughts, you quickly say goodbye to your mum and hand up again. When you put your phone back into your pocket, the first tear ran down your face. Not being able to go home meant you would be spending Christmas alone for the first time.

Your long absence made Pedri curious about where you ended up, so he stood up and began to search for you.

"Y/N where are you?"

You quickly dried your tears as you heard him rounding the corner to the living room.

"Y-yeah I'm fine. ¡No te preocupes!" (Don't worry)

You tried to make your voice sound more steady than it actually was. But as soon as you locked eyes with Pedri, the dams broke. With tears streaming down your face, you tried to explain to him what happened, though nothing but sobs left your lips.

"I-I (sob), I can't-"

"Hey, it's ok. Estoy auqí, estoy aquí." (I'm here, I'm here.)

Pedri rushed over to you and immediately took you into his embrace. Gripping his hoodie, you buried your face into his neck and continued to cry.

Not knowing what happened, Pedri let his fingers run through your hair in an attempt to calm you down a bit.

"Tell your Pepi what happened Amor. Maybe I can help you fix it." He softly stroked your cheek while tightening his other arm around you.

Shaking your head, you answer with a shaking voice. "I don't think you can help me with this. The only thing that could help me would be a magical change in the weather."

"¿Qué quieres decir cariño? (What do you mean honey?)

"Th-There is a massive storm at home. (Sniff) I-I can't go home, Pedri."

You looked up at him as you told him the reason for your misery, your voice barely a whisper. Pedri felt his heart squeeze as he saw your red eyes and puffy, wet cheeks.

While holding you in his arms, trying to reassure you, an idea sparked into his mind.

"Baby, do you wanna spend Christmas with my family?"

You smiled slightly at his suggestion. Pedri would do anything to make you happy. But you weren't sure about his idea. You see, Pedri and you have only been together for five months. Yes, you've already met his family, but you didn't want to intrude on such an intimate holiday.

"Pepi, I'm not sure. You've not seen your family for so long I don't want to intrude."

Looking at you in disbelief, Pedri takes your face into his hands. "Bebé, my parents love you! You would be the last person to intrude. Please do it for me. I couldn't enjoy myself knowing you would be here, alone."

Your heart melted at his statement, so you agreed to go to the Canary Islands with him and his brother.

It was the 23rd of December, and after paying way too much for a last-minute plane ticket, you and Pedri met Fer at the airport and are now waiting for your gate to open.

"I'm happy you're here. Pedro is way more fun when you're with him."

You blushed at Fer's words. He is always so friendly towards you. Ever since the day Pedri introduced you two. Fer made you feel welcome, and you really appreciated that. As you wanted to say something to him, your gate opened, and Pedri ushered you to board the plane.

Your flight was pretty chill. A few people asked Pedri if they could take a photo with him, which he happily agreed to do. You always admired how kind he acted around his fans.

After you landed, you three got a taxi and drove to Pedri's and Fer's childhood home.

Fernando and Rosy were already waiting by the door to greet all of you. As soon as the two brothers were out of the car, they were already in the warm embrace of their parents.

You stood beside them for a while, not wanting to interrupt their long-awaited family reunion. But as soon as Rosy saw you, she let go of her sons to give you a big welcoming hug.

"Y/n! It's so great that you're here!"

"Thank you for letting me stay here. I really appreciated it!"

Fernando also came over to give you a quick hug. "Oh please, we are more than happy to have you here."

After unpacking and resting for some time, Pedri decided to show you around in his hometown. You visited his school, first-ever football club, and the beach where he and his friends would always go after training.

You were amazed to see all the places that made your Pedro who he is now.

After spending the whole day exploring the island, you two came home to a home-cooked meal. You ate dinner and had a wonderful time with his family. You were unbelievably grateful to be a part of all this.

The next day, you woke up on top of Pedri. His warm hands were stroking your back, which ultimately woke you up.

"Bon dia bebé." Kissing the side of your face, Pedri greeted you with his slightly groggy morning voice.

"Mhm, morning Amor."

You cuddled deeper into his warm embrace again and nearly fell asleep until Fer banged his fist against the door.

"Morning lovebirds! Get up!"

Groaning, Pedri moves you from him and slowly sits up. "I swear to god I love him, but sometimes he needs to be smacked on the back of his head."

You both start to giggle and decide to get up and begin the day. You put on some old training shorts and a shirt that you took from Pedri. You head downstairs to the kitchen, where Fernando is already preparing dinner for the evening.

"Good morning, you two! Breakfast is at the table, take what you want."

Thanking him, you head to the dining table. Fer and Rosy were already eating. You sat next to Pedri's mum, who greeted you with a warm smile.

While eating breakfast, you decide what you should do for the day. You choose helping Fer with the shopping while Pedri stays at home and helps his parents prepare for the evening.

It turned out that buying snacks and drinks for fourteen people takes longer than you thought. You and Fer came home barely before the first members of his family started to arrive.

The house looks beautifully decorated. It looks like it came straight out of a postcard. Pedri's family was unbelievably welcoming to you. You had a great time and enjoyed yourself truly.

When it was time for the presents, you quickly ran up the stairs to grab presents for Pedri and his parents. As soon as it was clear that you would join Pedri for the holidays, you immediately searched for presents for his parents.

You got his mum a beautiful necklace and his dad a bottle of wine. You hope they will like them. Pedri wasn't much help while buying them, so you just guessed.

When you arrived at the living room, wrapping paper flew around, and you could see Pedri playing with one of his cousins. Sitting next to him, you gave Pedri's parents their presents.

They absolutely loved them. Rosy hugged you tight after you put the necklace on her.

"My dear, thank you so much. I love it!"

"I'm glad you like it. But give me a second I have to hand Pedri his gift to."

You approached him with a small red envelope you picked up from under the Christmas tree.

"Merry Christmas, Pepi."

Smiling at you, he took the envelope and pulled you onto his lap. You squealed and blushed, not used to showing so much affection in front of his family.

"What are you doing!?" You whisper-shouted into his ear.

"I missed you, my family has had way to much time with you."

You smirked at his slight jealousy. Pedri was never the biggest fan of sharing your attention.

"Come on, open your present now."

He ripped the envelope open and gasped.

"You got me tickets for Quevedo!?"

"Yeah, I saw that he is in Barcelona next summer, so I quickly bought them."

You felt Pedris arms tighten around you as he nuzzled his face into your neck. "I love you so much, thank you!!"

"I love you too ba-woah!" You gasped as Pedri literally threw you off his lap and sat you down on the couch.

"Wait here for a second. I need to get your gift."

As he rushed upstairs, you looked on in confusion. After a few minutes, he returned with a small white box in his hand.

Sitting down before you, he gave you the little box.

You quickly unwrapped it and gasped loudly, "No, you didn't!"

The box contained a Pandora bracelet, the kind of bracelet that allows you to add multiple charms. You talked to Pedri that you loved the idea of them. But that you thought they were too expensive.

You lunged yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!!"

"You're welcome Amor. I'm happy you like it."

He helped you put the bracelet on, and as you looked closer, you saw a little Barcelona charm hanging from it. You gave Pedri a sweet kiss and continued to watch the rest of the family unwrapping their presents.

You spend the rest of the evening chatting and laughing with his family. You had a great time and felt truly like a part of the family. Something Pedri was already planning on making you after today.

------

Don't forget to leave a like if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !!

[grandlinedreams]

okay hear me out thriller bark angst with zoro. i can just FEEL the angst after he takes luffys pain and maybe reader finds him instead of sanji and he wont set aside his pride and tell them what happened??? angsty with a happy ending??? maybe???

YES please thriller bark was,,a ride and a half (bad) bbjjsnss but I hope I can do this justice for you!!

[Heads up!: mention of thriller bark, hurt/comfort, confession fic! We love confession fics]

Blood.

There's so much of it ㅡ splattered across the broken rubble, makes your stomach twist with fear of what you're going to find as you stumble across the uneven terrain.

Where is he? You'd noticed Zoro's absence amongst your crewmates, the excited leaping around that Luffy'd been doing despite his injuries from Gecko Moria ㅡ and then you'd shared a glance with Sanji, heart sinking before you'd taken off to find the swordsman.

And then you spot him in the epicenter of the mess, arms folded across his chest as blood drips freely from his arms, his chest, his nose ㅡ you're not entirely certain how he's still standing if all of this is his.

"Zoro," you say as you approach, heart hammering in your chest, "what happened? What did you do?"

You know there's no way that Kuma would've let any of you go without a reason ㅡ but Zoro simply looks away, ignoring the leak of crimson down his cheek.

"Nothing," he says flatly, "nothing happened at all."

ㅡ

He still won't tell you.

In the days that follow Thriller Bark, you try to get an answer from him in the most roundabout way you can ㅡ and Zoro remains tightlipped about it.

You know that's just how he is, but it's starting to dig claws of doubt into you. Does he think you're annoying? That alone is enough to make your chest ache, but then there's the other thought, cold and cruel as it circles in your head like a hungry shark.

Does he not trust you?

The thought of it makes you feel sick as you tuck the blanket you've dragged with you tighter around your shoulders, trying not to stare glumly at the night-darkened horizon.

"There you are. What are you still doing up?" You tense as Zoro approaches, fighting not to look at him. When you don't answer right away, he frowns. "What's wrong with you?"

Your fingers tighten around the blanket, and you duck your head. "'m mad at you."

His brow furrows. "Me? What did I do now?"

You don't want to tell him, feeling that it's childish to be so upset over something like this ㅡ but the words tumble from your lips anyways. "You won't tell me anything. Every time something happens, I'm left in the dark about it. Do you not trust me?"

Zoro's head cocks, taking in how tightly you're clutching your blanket, the careful angle of yourself away from him. "Of course I trust you, I just don't see the point in worrying you."

"I worry anyways!" You snap. "Don't you think I worry more when you won't tell me anything? You're my crewmate Zoro, of course I care, even if I didn'tㅡ"

You cut yourself off, let the hushed crash of waves fill the silence between the two of you.

"Finish your sentence," Zoro says quietly, watching you like a hawk. You still won't look at him.

"...even if I didn't love you as much as I do." You tug the blanket over your head, wish that you could disappear. It takes two steps for Zoro to reach you, tug you into his chest. You let him, closing your eyes. "Idiot."

Zoro makes an amused noise. "Yeah, well. At least I'm your idiot, right?"

"Depends. Do you want to be?" It's far from your ideal way to do something like this, especially given the circumstances ㅡ and yet couldn't be any more perfect.

"Yeah," Zoro answers at last, and you listen to the jingle of his earrings as he settles his cheek atop your head. "I do."

[skzdust]

Room 514

Part 4

This one got longer than expected! Hope you enjoy! Pt 5 will get very interesting 👀

Summary: You’re moving into a new suite halfway through your sophomore year at Stay University, populated by three guys: Jisung, Changbin, and Bang Chan. You meet their friends and quickly become a part of their group, but you find yourself wanting more with Jisung…

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Includes: skipping class, crappy dining hall food, bad TV shows, cuddling, late-night drives

Word count: 1.9k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife, @tsunderelino

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

Masterlist

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You rolled over in bed and picked up your phone, which was playing your morning alarm louder than usual, and nearly had a heart attack. Your first class of the day started in five minutes.

You jumped out of bed and pulled on the first clothes you saw, which happened to be yesterday’s outfit that you’d left on the floor. You grabbed your backpack, deciding to forego morning hygiene until you got back from class. Your professor was strict about attendance, and you didn’t want to waste one of your absences because you overslept.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on the way you thought about it), Jisung was laying down in the living room, one leg dangling off the couch, scrolling on his phone. He sat up when you rushed in, and you tried not to look at him.

“Hey, what’s up?”

You failed, turning around. “I’m about to be late for class.”

“Ah.” He nodded, glancing at his phone and clicking it off. “You’ve got one minute to get there. If I were you, I’d just skip.”

You sighed, turning the door handle but keeping it shut. “I wish. I only get three skips.”

“Then use one.”

“We’re, like, three weeks into the semester.” You said. “But that’s an appealing idea.”

“Then do it!” Jisung leaned back again, putting his arms behind his head and tapping his fingers against his head. “No time like the present. I’ll skip with you. We can go to the dining hall and get subpar eggs and watch The Immortal and the Restless.”

“That does sound… very nice.” You said, your fingers tightening on the door handle as you considered.

“C’mon.” He gave you a rakish smile. “Dare ya.”

Well, I can’t turn down a dare.

Your hand left the handle, and you rolled your eyes, smiling. “Fine.”

“I know, I know, I’m totally twisting your arm here.”

“Oh, totally.” You grinned at the thought of spending another day hanging out with Jisung. “I’m gonna go change and brush my teeth, and then we can go get food.”

“Sounds good.”

You walked into your room, picking out a clean outfit and taking a few minutes to mess with your hair before deeming it acceptable. You tried to ignore the excited feeling in your stomach as you brushed your teeth and did your skincare routine.

It’s just Jisung. You’re just getting food and watching your TV show. Nothing’s about to happen.

You’d hung out with Jisung and his friend group in the living room a couple of times during the week, but you hadn’t spent any one-on-one time with him since the mall trip a little less than a week ago. Finishing that calculus on Monday night had been hell, but it was worth it.

But today was Friday, which meant you could do nothing tonight. A twinge of guilt twitched in your stomach as you thought about the two classes you’d decided to skip.

Like he said. You reassured yourself. No time like the present.

You walked back out to the living room. “I’m hungry, let’s go get some breakfast.”

“Sounds good to me.” Jisung stood up. “You should get a jacket this time, though. Remember last time we went to get snacks and watch this show?”

“I won’t need a jacket. It’s only…” You glanced at the weather widget on your lock screen. “37 ℉.”

“That’s almost freezing temperature. You definitely need a jacket.” Jisung decided. “If you won’t get one of your own, I’ll get one.” He pointed at you. “You will wear a jacket.”

Okay, well, I have to be stubborn now. You remembered how warm the coat had been from his body, how good it had smelled, how it fit you.

“It’s not even snowing, or raining, or hailing. Those are jacket conditions. These are not jacket conditions.”

He raised an eyebrow, stared at you with judgement in his eyes for just a second, and walked back to his room. He returned with two jackets, a long black puffer coat and a shorter tan puffer coat. “Okay, take your pick.”

“Jacket? Those are coats!”

“It’s cold! You get a coat!”

You sighed, snatching the black coat from his hand and slipping it on.

“Hold on.” Jisung reached into the pocket and pulled out a black beanie. “Stay still.”

You did so, and he carefully put the hat on your head, then pulled out a few strands of your hair to frame your face.

He was so close. His tongue peeked out from his lips for a second, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

He looked in your eyes as he adjusted the hat over your ears, then stepped back, tilting his head to assess his work with a small smile. “There you go. We don’t want your ears freezing.”

“Of course.” You forced a laugh out, flustered.

He put on the tan coat and shoved a red hat onto his own head.

I’m gonna play his game.

You stepped towards him. “Here.” You gently arranged his hair under the beanie. You could feel his wide eyes on your face the whole time, but you made an active effort not to look at his expression.

You stepped back, finally looking at his face.

“Absolutely perfect!” You said, trying to make it sound like a joke and not your actual opinion.

He grinned. “Thank you.”

Jisung held the door for you as you walked out of the room, and your hands brushed as you got into the elevator. He pushed the button, looking like he hadn’t noticed anything, as you tried to suppress the thrill in your chest.

You scrunched your nose at the cold as you walked out of the dorm. Jisung laughed. “See? I was right about the jacket!”

“I don’t know about that.” You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. “It’s not that cold.”

“Sure.”

You relaxed when you walked into the warm dining hall, shivering off the cold. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Mhm.” Jisung looked amused.

“Shut up.” You mumbled.

The dining hall was busy, but not impossible. You and Jisung got your food and found a table for two.

“All we need is a vase of flowers.” Jisung said as he sat down.

“What?”

“Y’know, like how at fancy restaurants they have vases of flowers?” He waved his hand. “Whatever, stupid joke.”

“No, no, I get it.” You looked down, smiling.

You weren’t sure you got it, actually. Was he implying this was like a… a date?

You and Jisung both ate quickly, not talking a lot. It felt comfortable, like it was just natural for you to be skipping class and scarfing down eggs with your unfairly attractive roommate.

The two of you finished your food around the same time and stood up to leave. Jisung paused with his hand on the door handle leading back out to the yard. “Wanna get snacks?”

“As long as it doesn’t end in another snowstorm, I’m fine with it.”

“Yeah, although that poetry library was pretty cool.”

“It was.”

You walked beside each other to the store, and you fought the urge to take his hand… or adjust his hat again… or kiss him…

You picked out some candy at the store and sat it on the checkout counter, behind Jisung’s stuff.

“This yours?” The cashier motioned to your candy once she’d finished scanning Jisung’s, and before you could reply, Jisung cut in with a “Yeah, I’ll get it.”

“What is your obsession with paying for me?” You elbowed him.

“Chivalrous Jisung, remember?” He winked at you. Winked.

You elbowed him again, harder.

“Okay, you’re carrying the bag.” He put away his card and shoved the bag of food to you. You sighed dramatically and took the bag.

The walk back to the dorm was far more peaceful than it had been the other day, not a snowstorm in sight. You made it back to your room and unpacked the bag onto the coffee table, spreading it all out. “Looks like a good haul.” You looked at him. “Thank you.”

He finished shrugging off his coat and threw you a grin. “Yeah, ‘course.”

“Can you get the show up?”

“Yeah.” He queued the second episode of The Immortal and the Restless on the TV as you took your time selecting a snack. In reality, you weren’t sure if he’d want to sit together again, or if you were overthinking things from the other day.

“Can you bring me those gummies? I like the watermelon ones.”

You picked the candy up and turned around to hand them to him. He was sitting on the couch, one hand holding the blanket, the other around the back of the couch. “You wanna sit with me?”

“S—sure.” You stood up, handing him the gummies and awkwardly sitting beside him. You weren’t sure what he was comfortable with, weren’t sure if he wanted more with you, weren’t sure if—

“C’mere.” Jisung squeezed your bicep, his arm around your shoulders. “I’m a touchy person, if you’re okay with that.”

“I am certainly okay with that.” You said quickly, pulling your legs onto the couch and curling up against his side.

Jisung was warm, warmer than you’d expected him to be. His arm circled a bit closer around you, pulling you close. You blinked a second longer than you needed to. This was real, right? He didn’t seem to notice, clicking the episode on.

You had a hard time focusing on the show, instead letting your mind wander about Jisung. Every time he adjusted, you scooted a little closer to him. You let your eyes flicker up to his face, his damn near perfect face…

A few episodes in, Jisung’s hand found your hair. “’S okay if I play with your hair?” He mumbled.

“Yeah,” You breathed. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

His fingers gently combed through your hair, drawing designs on your scalp, little circles, scratching your head.

You thought you might die of bliss, right then and there.

The whole day passed like that, with the two of you eating junk food and watching TV and cuddling. Every time he went to the bathroom, you worried that Jisung wouldn’t want to be touchy again when he returned. But every time, without fail, he returned to touching your hair, gently stroking your arm, pulling you a little closer. You didn’t talk much, but you didn’t want to. You didn’t need to.

“Hey, Y/n?” Jisung paused the show once an episode was done.

“Mm?” You looked up from where your head rested on his side.

“Wanna go for a drive? I wanna move around a bit.” He smiled. “I’m tired, and it’s only like six, and I don’t want to go to bed yet.”

“Sure.” You sat up, feeling your face and noticing marks where you’d been leaning on Jisung’s shirt.

He grabbed his car keys, and you walked out to the parking lot, which had an orange cast in the glow of the old streetlights. You got into the passenger seat, and Jisung drove off campus.

“Where are we going?”

Jisung shrugged. “Nowhere.”

You leaned your head back against the headrest.

“Mind if I put on music?” Jisung looked at his phone for a second, queuing something up.

“Sure.”

He pressed play, and a slow love song started playing, just loud enough for you to hear.

The heat was blasting, and a soft snowfall began, and Jisung’s hand found yours on the center console.

[bree-cheesy]

Forbidden Pleasure

Joseph Quinn x fem!reader

A/N: So here I am with another fic after like almost a month. Sorry y'all. I get excited to write for like a week then don't want to for a month. Hope I make up for my absence. And I hope you guys like the fic. Took me a lot of effort to make honestly.

SIDE NOTE: Messed something up so I had to delete and repost! Sorry!!

Credit to @nowadayz for the gif

Warnings: SMUT 18+!!! Minors just go away. (dirty talk, mutual pining, intense kissing, slight sub and dom themes but only if you squint, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, cockwarming mentions, finger sucking.) Some fluff, co-star friends to lovers, not very plot heavy, reader and Joseph practice kissing for a scene. No use of Y/N. Think that's it. It's not proof read either.

Word Count: 2093

______________________________________________________________

Joseph was your costar. You both were starring in a romance movie about two ex lovers. They were separated when they went to college and recently ran into each other when your character got a new job in the character’s old town. It was pretty cliche, but it was your first film you were starring in so you were excited. Joseph played the love interest. It was your first film where you had to act out a sex scene. You were so unprepared. It’s not like you’ve never been with someone intimately, but acting a sex scene was so much different then actually having sex.

Joseph was nothing, but kind to you about the whole thing. He knew you were nervous about it and was super supportive. He was nervous himself because he was too afraid to admit he was attracted to you. He was head over heels for you almost. He wanted to make the whole scene perfect for you because he had a small amount of hope something would happen between you both. He would have to wait to say anything until filming was ended because you both could be kicked from the movie. He didn’t want that for you.

You were in your trailer, preparing for the scene. It was only you and Joseph and the filming crew on set that day, but you were still nervous. What if you were bad at it? What if you forgot to brush your teeth beforehand? Thoughts were zooming through your head so bad that you almost missed the knock on your trailer door. You got up and opened the door. Joseph was standing there.

“Oh, hey Joe.” You let him in and shut the door behind him. Your palms felt sweaty around him. He was hard to be around. It was almost intimidating.

“Hey, just thought I’d check on you before the scene. See how you’re feeling.” Joseph ran his hand through his hair and gave you a weak smile. Even if the smile was fake, it was still beautiful. God, that smile. It was something you saw in your mind at almost every waking moment. Completely tormenting you all day every day. Everything about it was perfect. Not to mention his eyes. Goddamn he was just a beautiful man. “Hey, you there?”

You shook out of your thoughts and looked up at him, gulping nervously. “Yeah, yeah. I’m nervous honestly.” You walked back to the desk you were at and sat down. “Scared I’ll do bad. Haven’t really had very many praises on my kissing skill in my life.” Joseph looked at you confused. You shook your head. “It’s not important. Don’t worry about it.”

Joseph sat down on your couch in the corner, sitting back and manspreading in a way that made chills go down your spine. You usually hated when men did that. Why is it so attractive when he does it? “I understand. I haven’t necessarily had complaints about my skills, but it’s different in front of a camera. Always a little nerve wracking.” He smiled at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Especially when the girl you’re kissing is pretty.”

You blushed and rolled your eyes, peeking at the time on your phone. “It’s no secret that people don’t want me to do this movie. There have been complaints since before we started filming. One little mess up and I’m fucked, Joe.” You groaned and held your head in your hands. Joseph rolled his eyes.

“Don’t even worry about that. You’re gonna do fine.” Joseph looked at you, an idea suddenly crossing his mind. It was a stretch so he was scared to even ask the question, but you looked desperate. “Uhm, we could practice.” You looked up at him confused. Practice? Practice what? Fake sex?

“Practice?” You asked, still terribly confused.

“Yeah, like practice kissing or something. Like, if you’re so worried you’ll mess it up, we can practice to see how we work together.” He shrugged and sat forward a little. “In my opinion, it’s worth a shot.”

You bit your lip nervously, your cheeks heating up. Kissing Joe out of character? What was he thinking? This is dangerous. Who knows what would happen between you two? The attraction between you two was undeniable. The kiss could spark something dangerous. Something forbidden. “A-Are you sure?” Your voice was meek and shaky.

He nodded and stood up. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to. Not gonna force you to do it.” He held his hand out and you took it, standing up in front of him. “Look, you set the pace. If that means I don’t touch you, or if there's no tongue, I don’t care. All up to you. I want you to be comfortable.” He looked so kind and gentle. You are lost now. Unable to let the chance of feeling his lips not in front of a camera pass up. It was a need. Not a want. A need. A need clawing at your insides that was getting almost too much to handle.

“U-Uhm, okay.” you gulped nervously and he smiled.

“Okay, what’s the rules then, m’lady.” He held his hands out like one of those wooden dummies you’d draw. “Guide my hands wherever.” You pouted a little and gently took his hands, putting them on your waist. Seemed like a secure spot. He’d have a grip on you in case the kissing was just too much and you passed out.

His hands flexed against your waist, aching to slide under your t-shirt so he could feel your skin. He needed more, but he was going to stay true to his word. The pace of this was up to you. He looked down at you with such patience that it almost made you melt into a puddle at his feet. You usually were not the kind to want to bend at every command a man gave, but for him, you’d do almost anything. His head went down a little, just to get closer so it wasn’t awkward trying to start the kiss. His breath gently fanned against your lips. It smelled minty with a slight hint of cigarettes. It was sinful.

Gently, you pressed your lips to his. His hands tightened ever so slightly on your waist and you stepped closer. Mentally cursing at yourself for kissing like a scared teenager, you deepened it ever so slightly. Both your eyes fluttered shut, noses bumping a little. He couldn’t stop himself. Your lips were just too soft. He needed more. He pressed his lips harder against yours and you let out a soft whimper, pressing more against him. He wouldn’t go too far. Not unless you did. He felt your tongue gently swipe his bottom lip and he opened on a sigh, hugging his arms around your waist.

Reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck, the kiss turned sloppy. Hot and wet. Teeth clashing. It was primal. A need deep down in the both of coming out after one simple kiss. You moaned into his mouth when he pressed you up against the wall, slotting his mouth hard over yours. You were so fucked. So absolutely mega fucked. He tasted like pure sin. Better than anything you could’ve imagined.

His hands went down to your ass and squeezed softly, groaning and slotting his thigh between your legs, making your knees buckle and fall into him. His hands went down your belly and roughly unbuttoned your jeans. You wiggled your hips slightly as he stuck his hand inside, welcoming the gesture with open arms. His fingers slid to your aching pussy which was now completely soaked. It always was when you thought about him.

“Fuck… so wet…” Joseph groaned into your mouth and moved down to kiss your neck. His fingers found your clit in record time and you moaned a little louder than intended. Just as he was about to go further, your phone rang. He gasped and pulled away. You scrambled to grab the phone and looked at the contact. It was the producer. He was calling you to get ready for the scene. Joseph fixed his clothes and you hastily buttoned your pants back up. No words were spoken between you two and you both awkwardly walked to hair and makeup.

--2 hours later--

The tension was sizzling between you two after the scene. Everyone could tell, but no one was going to say anything. As you got back to your apartment that night, your phone buzzed. It was a text from Joe. You bit your lip nervously and looked at it.

Joey: You better open your front door.

Confused, you opened it and were met with Joseph standing there, out of breath and holding onto the doorframe. Before you could get a word in, he rushed at you, kissing you with such urgency you'd 've been convinced the world was ending. You weren’t going to stop it, though. His hands ripped your shirt and pants off before picking you up and carrying you to the couch. Your ass landed in his lap facing away from him. You took a deep and much needed breath. You hadn’t really gotten one since he tackled you.

He kissed your neck while you shimmed your panties down your legs. His hand went between your thigh and he groaned into your ear. “God, the most perfect pussy…” His middle and ring finger slipped through your soaking folds making you whine and squirm in his lap. He lightly slapped your thigh. “Be a good girl and hold still.”

You nodded and whimpered softly, lolling your head back against his shoulder. He gently rubbed your clit, whispering dirty nothings in your ear, slowly making you come undone. You felt his hard on growing under your ass, making it so hard to not wiggle against it. His fingers were so gentle and talented. Your body quivered against his chest, breath coming out in hard pants. “Joseph… I need.. please!” You whimpered, feeling yourself getting close.

“Cum for me, baby… I want to see it.” he slipped his middle finger inside your pussy, his thumb working against your clit in time with his finger’s thrusts. You felt yourself squeeze around his fingers, Joseph whispering encouragements into your ear. Finally, you cried out and came hard around his finger. He pulled his finger out and pressed it against your lips. You sucked on it obediently, wanting to please him. He reached down between you two and unbuttoned his jeans, pulling his aching cock out.

“Joseph… please….” You whined, wiggling against his cock. You just wanted him inside you. He wouldn’t even have to move, just put it inside you and let you warm his cock. Anything for him. He gently lowered you onto his cock, stretching you out so good. It was a little painful, but it felt so good at the same time. It was a forbidden feeling running through your whole body. Without even thinking, you started bouncing on his cock. It wasn’t even something you knew you were doing.

He grabbed your hips and helped you up and down his cock, grunting and groaning. Your moans echoed through your apartment, a beautiful song only you two would be able to make. You pressed your palms on his knees and rode him harder, whining and moaning, your eyes shutting at his tip pressed against the spot inside you that made you weak.

“That’s it, baby. Use my cock… Use it, baby…” Joseph slapped your ass, making you yelp and go faster, chasing the release you so desperately needed. Joseph moved his hips up against yours, meeting your thrusts and driving you wild. He felt your pussy walls clench around his cock and gritted his teeth. “S-So tight…” Joseph stuttered out.

“I-I’m gonna cum, Joe-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before cumming hard for the second time. Joseph groaned and felt his release snap, filling you up. You fell back against his chest, your breath coming out shaky and hard. Your eyes shut and your hand went back to behind his head, snaking your fingers through his curls. He breathed heavily and gently lifted you off his cock, setting you back down on his lap, too tired to get up. Turning his arms, you snuggled into his chest and fell asleep. He just hugged you close and shut his eyes.

It was a forbidden thing for the two of you. No one would know until they had to. Forbidden, but so amazing. Forbidden pleasure.

[blogurlnotfound]

Drumming - Doctor Who x Reader

hiii this is my first fic in about 4 years probably :) this is obviously a new account, so yeah that's why there's nothing else here. um anyways, i definitely got incredibly carried away with this, did not have an idea going into it (still think it ended up great), 12 is probably out of character, and i somehow wrote it in under 3 hours??

anyway, I hope it's enjoyable! and please let me know your thoughts :)

12th Doctor x Reader

(really student/professor but can be romantic or platonic, whatever vibes you catch.)

Word Count: 2,600+

Summary: You have been hearing a drumming in your head. One, two, three, four. It's been affecting your mental state, and you haven't been to class in a while. Maybe your professor, The Doctor, is able to help figure this out?

Warnings: mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts. any gender reader, but makeup mentioned.

A drumming had been haunting you for months as you slept.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

It would sound non-stop until you couldn't bear it any longer, and woke up. Every time you would wake up the same: in a cold sweat, panting, with tear streaks running down your face.

Each day the drumming's effect on you grew. It was affecting your mental state immensely. You felt a deep pain and sadness hanging over you like a cloud most days. You wouldn't be able to get out of bed, much less go to classes. You weren't hungry often, and couldn't eat when you were. You avoided your friends and your schoolwork, occasionally texting your parents to keep them from worrying.

You weren't sure if your professors noticed your absences. They hadn't reached out to you in any way. It's not like they'd notice you in the sea of students. They must see hundreds a day anyways.

It's not like anybody would notice you anyway. At least that's what the drumming would whisper to you.

One, two, three, four.

You keep to yourself. Don't have any close friends in your classes, and not many close friends at school in general. Nobody really knew who you were. Your favorite color. Childhood pets. How long it takes you to sleep. How often you're awoken by the drumming.

One, two, three, four.

Nobody would notice if you're gone.

One, two, three, four.

They don't even notice when you're there.

One, two, three, four.

-+-

You wake up. In a cold sweat. Panting. You reach both your hands to your face and rub your palms on your cheeks. Tears were cleared from your face and now sat on your hands. You sit up and release a heavy sigh. It's like the sigh has been waiting to escape all night. Like your body was relieved to be released from the nightmare drumming.

You decide to get out of bed, an easier decision than previous day's had been. You stretch your limbs and yawn. You walk to the bathroom and face your reflection. Today was going to be okay.

Or will it be.

One, two, three, four.

"It will be. Today will be okay." You affirmed to yourself in the mirror. You let out another sigh, smiled at yourself softly, and began your morning routine.

You do your make-up while watching a video. You found that taking the time to do your make-up gave you time to relax, breathe, and be yourself. You felt better about your days when you take this extra time to yourself in the morning. So, whenever you manage to get out of bed, you try to manage doing make-up too.

The video you watched was just of some guy unnecessarily analyzing a TV show you liked. He went into extreme detail about small details from the show and created theories about why certain things happened and what might happen next. You enjoyed his content. He reminded you of one of your professors.

He was a very kind old man who you can tell cares deeply about everything he talks about. He has a Scottish accent that somehow grows stronger with excitement. He's enthusiastic and rambles, and never really has a set course of taking points. He just lets his mind and his heart lead him. Saying whatever he finds most awestrucking and veering off topic drastically. In fact, you weren't really sure what the class was meant to be about.

The course description when signing up simply said, "Discussion-based class, humanities topics." The syllabus was no extra help, practically said the same thing with all the extra school required information listed. But it fulfilled your humanities credit, and the first day was interesting enough, so you stayed in the class.

Thinking about the professor, The Doctor, just The Doctor, made you want to go to his class. You checked the time on your phone. It did start in a little over two hours. You finished getting ready and then waited.

You waited maybe fifteen minutes before getting bored. You quickly put your bag together and walked out your door, then your building, into the outside would. It had been at least thirty-two hours since you were last outside. The air felt cool against your skin, reviving your senses and making you softly smile to yourself. You could hear the wind rustle the branches of nearby trees that swayed. Somehow, these trees looked the same as ever, and more beautiful than ever.

You turn around in a full circle and take in the Earth around you. She really is beautiful. You don't sit with her enough.

With new energy in your body, the dark cloud caused by the drumming smaller than ever, you walk around your campus mindlessly. Every step you take grounds you to the Earth, reminding you that the drumming can't be real.

One, two, three, four.

It isn't real.

-+-

You take a seat in the auditorium where The Doctor's class is held. You gently place your bag on the floor next to you and wait as the seats pile up. Five minutes later the room is almost full, and the tall man with short grey hair walks in, greeting the class with a Scottish, "Hello!" as he places his bag down and immediately starts writing on the chalkboard.

"Music." is written on the board. He swiftly turns around on his heel. He stops and makes direct eye contact with you. He stares for a moment, a twinkle in his eye. He diverts his attention from you and begins speaking,

"So," he clasps his hands, "who wants to tell me the importance of music to humanity?"

Hands shoot up all around you. You had been missing a fun class.

-+-

The class ends and you have a beaming smile on your face. You hadn't realized truly how fun and entrancing The Doctor was. Every student was hooked on his every word, waiting for what insane piece of information would come flying out of his mouth next. Every student including you.

The class was packing their bags and leaving around you. You heard groups starting to chat. Friends laughing loudly.

You don't have friends like that here. Your smile falls.

One, two, three, four.

A tap on the wooden desk in front of you wakes you from your thoughts, a Scottish voice accompanying it, "Are you okay, y/n? I noticed you haven't been to class in a while."

You looked up at The Doctor, no doubt admiration for him and sadness from your thoughts filling your eyes. He could read your eyes. He could read the pain and the sadness. He's felt it before.

"You noticed?" You stifled out.

"Of course I noticed." His face softened, "All of my students are important to me."

"But there's so many of us?"

"So?"

You didn't have a response to that. You suppose he was right. You just looked down at your bag, grabbed it, and started to stand up.

"Would you like to come into my office?"

You looked at him, confused and shocked.

"Just for lunch and to discuss whatever is going on. If you'd like." You look at him, still confused. Your head cocks slightly to one side, and your mouth begins to open, but The Doctor beats you to it, "I lost a student not too long ago. Her name was Bill. Bill Potts. I miss her a lot, you see, she was more than just my student. She was also my friend. She made me better. I can see her in you, and I would hate to... " He pauses, "I'm just worried about how many classes you've missed. You may not be able to pass my course."

You're really confused now. The gears are turning in your head, processing his confession of loss turned into you not passing the class. The Doctor can see the gears turning on your face, in the way your eyebrows scrunch intensely and your pupils move back and forth. You close your eyes, relax your face, and look at him with a smile.

"I would like to go to your office, yeah. Thank you." Your eyes are sincere, and when you meet his, so are they.

You follow him a short ways through campus to his office. His steps and your steps opposite. Like the drumming.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

You try to ignore it. You try really hard but can't. You stop walking, and the drumming stops. You sigh in relief, The Doctor looks back at you with concern.

"Sorry," you say, catching up to him with a smile, "I thought I saw something."

"Like what?" He asks, curiosity filling his face.

"Oh, nothing." You weren't expecting him to ask. You didn't know what to say.

He hums in response, picking up pace until you're at his office. It's a huge room with a desk in the middle, you take a seat on one side of it while The Doctor sits opposite. He has many picture frames on his desk, and a mysterious blue police box in the corner you can't take your eyes off.

One, two, three, four.

"What's that?" you ask, pointing at the box before you can help yourself.

"A police box. It's from London in the 60's. I'm a bit of a collector of sorts."

He had this lie down pat. But you could tell he wasn't being truthful, you didn't know how, but you knew. You didn't press on about the box. You just nodded and smiled, "That's cool."

He nodded too. "Let's talk about why you've been missing class. Is everything okay back home? Anything I can do to help?"

One, two, three, four.

Something compelled you to be honest with him. Again, you didn't know what. He felt familiar. Of course you've known him the whole semester, but it felt more than that. You feel safe. You feel seen. You feel known. You knew when he lied to you just a second ago, but why?

One, two, three, four.

"Can I be honest?" you make eye contact with him, "Like, you won't lock me up in the looney bin for being crazy?" He's about to say something but you interrupt him, "And won't get me kicked out of the school or, or, I don't know, send me off to get government testing?"

He's confused now. But curious too. You can tell he's interested in what you're saying, he wants to know more. It doesn't feel like he's going to judge you. "Yes, you can be honest. You can trust me."

"Promise?" You hold out your pinky. Sure it's silly, but silly makes it more meaningful, more powerful, somehow.

He chuckles and interlocks your pinkies, "Promise."

"Okay." You stop to think.

One, two, three, four.

"So I have this noise in my head."

One, two, three, four.

"It's like drumming. One, two, three, four."

One, two, three, four.

The Doctor stiffens. "And it won't stop, Doctor." you continue. "And it's like it's affecting my thoughts. They're all negative and I'm depressed and it hurts. It really hurts, Doctor." Tears are streaming down your face. You weren't even aware talking about this would make you cry. And you didn't know why you told The Doctor about it.

After a moment of thinking, The Doctor moves from his chair and towards you. His movements are stiff. As if he's nervous. He knows something you don't. He leans down and wraps his arms around you, your head at his chest. You cry harder, and he pulls you closer in comfort.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

The drumming was louder than ever. In your head and in your ears. It's not scary anymore though. You move your head away from The Doctor to release you from the hug. The drumming stops. You reach out to his chest without asking, without thinking.

On your hand you feel two heartbeats.

One, two, three, four.

You put your other hand to your own heart. Only one heartbeat. One, two.

Why did he have two heartbeats. One, two, three, four. Why was his the drumming.

"Why-" you start, but need to close your eyes and breathe, "Why does your heart sound like the drumming. Why do you have two heartbeats?"

"Follow me." He walked to the blue police box, opened the door and went inside. You sat there for a moment stunned. Then you cleared your face from your tears and got up. You made your way towards the box, looking at the door before walking inside.

You looked around in amazement. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Your face broke out into a huge grin. You ran outside and back inside. "This defies all laws of physics! How is it-? It's?" You looked at him expectantly.

"C'mon, I know you want to say it." He had an equally bright, shit-eating grin.

"It's bigger on the inside!"

He laughed with his whole chest and body. His laugh was contagious.

"This," he gestures around the room, "is my T.A.R.D.I.S. Time And Relative Dimension In Space. And I'm a Time-Lord from the planet Gallifrey. We have two hearts, hence the two heartbeats."

You look at him; confusion, amazement, admiration and more displayed on your face.

"Now I don't know why you're hearing my species' heartbeats in your head, but I'm going to figure it out." He looks at you and smiles, you can't help but smile back, "If you want to come with me?"

"With you where?" you ask.

"Anywhere! In the whole wide universe. Not really sure where to start to help you though. Or when for that matter?"

You've never been so confused so many times in the span of one day. "But I have other classes? And don't you too?" Something clicks in your brain, "And what about my parents? And I barely know you! No offense, Doctor. I can't go traveling with someone I don't know."

"If anyone can help you, y/n, it's me. There might not be anyone else in the whole universe." You look at him, desperate now after hearing his words. "And as for your other classes and your family- TARDIS, t," he said, dragging out the sound, "stands for time. She's a time machine. Can take you right back to this moment." He smiled confidently, and made his way towards the center of the room where some sort of console was. He puts his hands on a lever, and looks at you again.

"What?" You asked, awestruck.

"Let me show you." Mischief flashes across his face, but you can tell it's more childlike than malicious. Which is odd for a man who is likely in his sixties.

A whirring sound comes from the center. The door slams shut and the lights start fluctuating. You find it hard to steady yourself as the floor becomes unstable.

"Grab onto something!" The Doctor yells. You do, a railing a few feet away. You grab on tight and try to stand up right. The Doctor is laughing with joy.

One, two, three, four.

The drumming in your head is drowned out by the TARDIS whirring. The whirring sound would soon become a new comfort. And the TARDIS a new home. And The Doctor, he would soon become the most special and fantastic person in your life.

You knew today was going to be a good day. And there are thousands more to come. Thousands more with The Doctor.

He was going to stop the drumming in your head, no matter what he had to do.

[pupkashi]

nap time

pakkun loves spending time with you, kakashi doesn’t mind it one bit

a/n: literally one month late to this request I’m so so so sorry blame midterms plz !!!! i hope you still find your way to this piece and i hope u enjoy !! send in more kakashi requests i love him so bad <3

wordcount: 1,084

masterlist

warnings: mention of pregnancy, kakashi refers to the reader as mama at one point

“kashi i already told you I’ll be fine on my own” you roll your eyes, one hand in his larger one and the other still running through his silver hair.

your boyfriend can’t help but sigh, the smallest of pouts sitting on his pretty lips. “I’ll just feel more comfortable if one of the ninken are here with you while I’m gone,” you can see the sincerity in his eyes, only pure intention behind his gaze, “I’m gonna be gone for who knows how long and i don’t want anything to happen to you, not when things between us are just starting.”

it’s with a small smile and a dramatically loud sigh that you roll onto your back, “fine fine, don’t have to get so sappy on me copy ninja,” kakashi smiled at your words, rolling over and resting on his forearms, placing a kiss to your cheek before getting out of bed.

you watch him with a smile as he summons his ninken, you expect to see the whole pack but only one appears, pakkun.

“what is it boss?” the deep voice makes your smile grow wider, the dog nods along as kakashi explains to him what’s happening.

“hi pakkun” you wave, the dog lifts his paw slightly and you giggle. kakashi can’t help but stare lovingly at the interaction, his eyes forming into small crescents.

“I’ll summon you again when i leave, got it?” the dog replies in a grunt before disappearing just as fast as he arrived.

kakashi got back into bed with you, opening his arms so you could rest on his chest. it was quiet, the only sounds were a couple birds chirping and the wind rustling the leaves in the trees.

“d’you think he’ll like me?” your eyes were wide as you looked at kakashi, he smiled and kissed your forehead before replying, “he’s gonna love you.”

and so as you closed the door as kakashi left for his mission you turned to the pug, a smile on your face, “do you like doing regular dog things too?” pakkun’s tail wagged involuntary as you showed him a frisbee.

kakashi was gone a week, for him it was a long grueling, terrible week.

pakkun had the best week of his life with you. he’d gone to a lake, played fetch countless of times, got to walk around the village with you, and best of all he got endless cuddles and pats from you.

when your boyfriend returned he was shocked to find pakkun upset at his arrival, already asking when he’d be summoned to protect you again.

and so every other time after that, pakkun was always summoned while kakashi was gone, his little tail wagging as he saw you and practically jumping into your arms when kakashi left.

you loved the little dog so much. you’d even convinced kakashi to let pakkun be the ring bearer at your wedding (it didn’t take much convincing.)

nothing changed when kakashi became the sixth hokage, when he knew he’d have a late night he’d summon pakkun to keep you company.

and so when he learned his wife was pregnant, pakkun became like gum to your side anytime kakashi was gone. you didn’t mind, you loved having him around to keep you company and help you run errands and it gave your husband peace of mind. it was a win-win really.

kakashi never really got to see much of what you two got up to in his absence. during the beginning of your relationship you’d always greet him at the gates of the village. now that he was hokage he’d always come home to you cooking or doing something, pakkun usually just sitting next you.

with a happy sigh kakashi set aside the last of his paperwork for the day, glancing at the clock and smiling when he realized he was done nearly two hours earlier than what he had told you. he quickly grabbed his things and made his way back home, excited to finally be with you again.

the sixth hokage opened the door quietly, slipping his shoes off before his eyes landed on the two figures on the couch. his heart grew in his chest, warmth spreading across his body as a smile found its way onto his lips.

pakkun lay curled up in your lap, your hand resting softly on his back, you’d surely fallen asleep petting him. the two of you were breathing evenly.

kakashi didn’t wanna move, he didn’t even wanna breathe in fear of disturbing the two of you. but alas, pakkun was ninken and his ears twitched as the sound of kakashi’s quiet steps.

“welcome back boss” pakkun sat up, jumping off the couch and stretching with a big yawn, shaking before sitting in front of kakashi.

“i see you’re having a grand time with my wife,” he laughed, pakkun looked back at you before looking at kakashi once more.

“she gave me bacon today, she told me not to tell you but i just can’t keep things from you�� kakashi smiled at his words, he couldn’t help but picture his own kid confessing that you’d snuck him an extra cookie after dinner.

“kashi?” you mumbled, sitting up and rubbing your eyes, you stretched a bit before smiling at your husband, “you’re home early.”

kakashi wasted no time in sitting next to you, placing a kiss to your cheek and resting his much larger hand atop your now growing baby bump. “couldn’t bear to be another second away from the two of you.”

pakkun had found his way to your other side, nuzzling himself under your arm and laying down, a content sigh when you scratched the top of his head.

“pakkun told me you gave him bacon,” your eyes went wide and kakashi laughed, “mama is gonna spoil you rotten isn’t she?” he spoke, bending down a bit to place a soft kiss to your belly.

“as if you won’t!” you retorted, a smile on your face when he blushed deeply, shy giggles leaving his lips. he couldn’t fight back, he knew you were right. instead he placed a kiss onto your forehead before getting up to shower and change.

before he rounded the corner to the restroom he glanced back, smiling as he saw you placing a now napping pakkun onto your lap, continuing to shower him affection.

kakashi couldn’t help but smile at his little family, happiness and love coursing through his veins as pakkun nuzzled up to your baby bump.

[alwaysonthemend]

Author’s Note: Hello my horny friends. I hope this fic finds you well. Have some vulgar Jacob smut. This is self-indulgent, as it usually is. Jake makes me question my sanity… this fic is merely a glimpse for you all into my madness. This is a little on the shorter side but when it's literally just porn and no plot that's what happens. Also VERY minimally edited so apologies in advance. 

Once again, this fic wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for @jakeyt I hope you know that I love you so much and I’m so glad I have you in my life. Your constant encouragement means the world. 

Content Warnings: Fem!reader, oral (f rec) p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, cussing, dirty talk, Jake being cocky. 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Word Count: 2927

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The thing is, it never really gets easier – the whole long distance thing that is. You get better at it, sure. But it never actually becomes easier to deal with. If anything, you only miss him more when he’s gone than you used to. Jake has this… aura about him that draws you into him – pulling you into his orbit whether you want to be or not. Though he’s not known to his fans as the loud one (that title remains firmly on Josh), Jake’s personality when he’s with you is anything but subdued. He’s sweet like no other man you’ve ever met, and can make you laugh harder than anyone else, and the comfort that he radiates is unparalleled. And so his absence is only made all the more painful the longer you’ve been with him. 

This time especially, going on almost two months without getting to see him, you’re physically aching to be near him again. Daily texts and FaceTimes only satisfy you so much, and at this point you’re desperate. He’s coming home tonight and your body is practically vibrating with your excitement as you tidy up things around the house in order to pass the time. 

He’d said he’d be home around 7pm and god have these past few hours been the longest of your entire life. You’ve showered and shaved – making sure to use the body wash that Jake loves the smell of; and you’ve slipped into the little lingerie set that always drives him nuts, coupled with nothing but one of his old t-shirts. The two of you had phone sex a few times throughout his absence, but the action only ever leaves the both of you aching and missing the other even more. Jake has always been a tactile individual, loving the feeling of you and the feeling of the two of you together. So you know that as soon as he gets home he’s going to be all over you. That at least, is one positive of his long absences. Fuck is the welcome home sex incredible.

Taking a seat on the sofa, you glance up at the clock for what feels like the millionth time. 

7:07pm 

You clench your thighs in anticipation as you watch the front door. You’re almost embarrassed by the way you're literally sitting here waiting like a dog for its owner to come home. But it really has been so long so you figure you’ve earned the right to be this desperate.

You glance up again. 

7:16

Furrowing your brow, you check your phone to see if he’s texted you. Nothing. 

Sighing, you click your phone off and place it back down on the table. 

Another five minutes. 

You check your phone again. Then the clock. Then your phone again. You fix your hair. Check the clock again. 

And just when it hits 7:45 and you’re about to pick up your phone to call him, the front door practically slams open and in steps Jake – looking frazzled and annoyed but no less handsome than he had the last time you saw him. 

“Fuck, I hate airports.” His voice is the same as you remember it too – deep and soft as it envelopes you like a warm hug. 

Rising from your seat quickly, you stride over to where he’s standing, surveying his appearance for a moment. His hair is slightly longer, the ends resting just below his shoulders. He’s shaved since the last time you FaceTimed, but the barely there dusting of hair that adorns his top lip lets you know that maybe he’s thinking of growing it out again. 

You both stand there for a second, eyeing the other in a strange dance of anticipation. Finally, you reach out and grip his wrist, tugging him in close to you. Almost as if the action broke the seal, suddenly he’s on you, shoving you backwards until your back slams into the wall. 

“Jake.” You whine, but he silences you by sealing his lips over yours, immediately plunging his tongue into your waiting mouth. It’s all teeth and tongues and there’s nothing but desperation behind it as he practically devours you. The both of you moan as his bulge presses against you. 

“Missed you so much, angel.” He breathes out between kisses, and all you can do is whimper in response as his plush lips trail down to your throat, nipping and biting as he goes. 

You bring your hands up to tangle in his hair, tugging on it hard to get a reaction from him. Never one to disappoint, a groan rumbles through his chest at the sting. 

His strong hands grip your hips and lift, effortlessly picking you up and you wrap your legs around his waist to steady yourself. His mouth doesn’t leave your skin once as he walks the two of you over to the sofa before he unceremoniously deposits you onto it.

Still trapped between your thighs, Jake sinks to the floor onto his knees. 

“Missed you too. So much.” You tell him, gripping his shoulders and digging your fingers into the hard muscle that lies hidden beneath his button down shirt. 

He pulls away from you for a moment and his eyes look practically black as he stares at you. His chest is heaving and his lips are already swollen and slick with spit. You’re sure that you probably look even worse off than he does as your desperation for him grows with each passing second.

“I’ve been thinking about this for days.” He admits, splaying his palms out on your thighs and spreading your knees apart. His eyes trail downwards and you watch with rapt attention as they widen slightly as he sees the deep green lace of your panties. A wolfish grin spreads across his lips. “These are my favorite.” 

“I know.” Your voice comes out quiet, almost a whisper. “Put them on just for you.” 

“You spoil me.” His finger trails across your clothed center, just barely pressing into your clit through the fabric. 

You whine and spread your legs wider, begging him to finally touch you where you need him. 

“And as gorgeous as you look in these…” He says, hooking his fingers in the elastic and tugging. “You look even better without them.” 

He slides the lacey fabric down your legs, allowing you to kick them off onto the floor. His eyes rake across you, greedily taking in the sight of your drenched pussy for the first time in weeks. 

“Fuck.” He whispers, licking his lips and running a calloused finger through your folds. “Even prettier than I remember.” 

Sweeping his eyes up to yours, Jake grips your thighs again tightly before diving into you, sucking on your clit and drawing a loud moan from you. 

“Jake!” Your eyes slam shut at the immediate relief of his mouth on you. 

He’s eating you out like it’s his job, plunging his tongue into you roughly as his nose presses into your swollen bundle of nerves. Your moans and whines are interrupted by his own sounds – tiny little groans and grunts as he diligently brings you closer and closer to the edge of climax. 

Embarrassingly fast, that coil in your belly begins to tighten and you reach down to tug on his hair in warning. Instead of drawing away, Jake only renews his efforts and the coil snaps as your orgasm tears through you. He laps up your release without pause, moaning at the taste of you before pulling away.

“That was fast.” He grins, a smug smirk overtaking him. 

“Fuck off. It’s been too long.” You tell him, trying to catch your breath. 

“Or I’m just that fucking good.” 

You shake your head at him, fighting a grin. 

“Mmm. Missed you being a cocky little shit.” You tell him, sarcasm clear in your tone. 

“Did you now?” He hedges, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. 

“Oh yeah. I really miss- Oh!”

Without warning, Jake plunges a finger into you, immediately finding that spot inside you that drives you fucking wild. 

“What was that?” He asks, adding another finger. 

You can’t answer, too focused on the heavenly feeling of his fingers that you missed so much. 

“I’ll tell you what I missed.” He says, fingers picking up their pace as he fucks you with them. “I missed this pretty pussy. And I missed those lovely sounds that you make when I hit that special little spot inside of you.” He punctuates his sentences by curling his fingers upwards and brushing your g-spot, drawing a loud cry from you. “Like that one. Fuck, I missed that sound.” 

“Jesus Christ.” You moan, overcome with pleasure as he presses his thumb into your clit, rubbing tight circles over you. 

This is so much better than all those nights on the phone with him – nights where you lay there wishing that it was his fingers pleasuring you and not your own. But now he’s finally here, and the combination of having him after so long coupled with his stupidly talented fingers has your second orgasm approaching just as quickly as the first. 

“Come on, angel.” He encourages, eyes glued to where his fingers fuck in and out of you. “Give it to me.” 

The band snaps for the second time, and this time the feeling is white hot and overwhelming, leaving you with shaky legs and a brain completely absent of any conscious thought. 

“Jacob!” You whine, body left reeling as he pulls his fingers from you. “I need your cock. Please. Fuck, I need it.” You beg, reaching out to him to pull him in closer. 

“I know. I know, angel.” He mutters, extracting himself from your grip and standing up. He quickly unbuttons his shirt and tosses it to the ground before turning away from you. You furrow your brows for a moment as you watch him start to leave before realization washes over you. 

Condom your brain finally supplies. He’s going to get a condom. 

As if acting on its own accord, your hand darts out to wrap around his wrist, stopping him. He turns back to you, confusion clouding his eyes as he takes in your expression. 

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you shake your head at him. 

“No condom.” 

“But-” he starts, turning back around to face you fully. “You’re not on birth control.” 

“I know.” You say as you stare into his eyes, silently begging for him to catch on to what you mean. 

He does, and his mouth parts in surprise as your meaning finally hits him. 

“Y/n.” He hedges, taking a step back towards you. “You-” he stops himself, unsure and afraid of reading the situation wrong. 

“I miss you so much when you’re gone, Jake.” You admit, pulling him even closer to you. “Want something of yours to keep with me when you leave.” 

Jake groans, dropping his hand downwards to palm his hard cock. 

“Fuck, are you sure?” He sounds fucking wrecked – voice broken in a way you haven’t heard it before. 

“Very.” You assure him, biting your lip as you glance up at him. “I’ve been thinking about it since you left. I want it so bad, Jake.” 

“I need to hear you say it, Y/n.” His eyes are dark as he watches you, chest heaving as the weight of your words seem to finally sink in. 

“Jake,” you start, willing him to see just how serious you are. “I want you to fill me up. Put a baby in me. Please, Jake.” 

He moans loudly and he looks almost pained as you speak. Without hesitation, he practically rips the button of his jeans open before shoving them downwards, yanking his boxers down with them. His cock springs free, slapping his stomach and weeping with precum. You’ve never seen him so hard before – the velvety skin shiny and red. You spread your legs and scoot backwards, pressing your back into the arm of the sofa. He all but collapses onto the sofa between your legs and a fresh wave of slick gushes from you as you see the slight tremble of his shoulders. He’s fucking shaking. 

“Say it again.” He demands, grabbing his length and sliding his tip through your folds, gathering your wetness and spreading it over himself. 

“Put a baby in me, Jake. Fill me up. I want it so bad.”

“Fuck.” He whines – an honest to god whine, before he plunges into you. 

You let out a loud wail as he finally enters you, stretching you deliciously. 

“I missed your cock so much!” You cut yourself off with another moan. You reach upwards and hook your hands behind his shoulders to pull him into you, capturing his lips with yours as he pounds into you. 

“Fuck, baby.” His voice is deeper than it ever has been before and it cracks slightly on the last word. “You wanna know what I think about when I’m up there on stage?”

You nod, dropping your head backwards and wrapping your legs around him to pull him in deeper. 

“God.” He starts, moaning loudly before continuing on breathlessly. “I think about you. Every fucking time.” He grabs your ankle and tosses it up over his shoulder, making his cock sink even deeper into you. “I imagine you like this. Beneath me. I get so worked up just thinking about it. Like I could just fucking explode right up there on stage."

“Jake.” You whine, but there’s nothing to follow it up with. It’s like you’re in a fog, aware of nothing beyond the man on top of you and the delicious feeling of his cock pounding into you so fucking deep. 

“It gets me so hard, angel. So hard it hurts. All those people screaming my name but it’s you that I’m thinking about.”

"Is that why you hump your poor guitar?" You manage to stutter out breathlessly.

Jake chuckles and nods his head.

"Can't fucking help it "

You lean upwards and kiss him again, biting his bottom lip between your teeth. Your brain can’t seem to create words anymore and all coherent thought has long since flown out the window.

Jake groans into the kiss before dropping his chin to press his forehead into yours. His hips snap into you at a bruising pace and you know that you’ll be sore tomorrow. 

“M’gonna cum, Jake." You warn through clenched teeth. "Fuck I’m cumming!” Your climax is sharp – slicing through you with reckless abandon as Jake keeps fucking you through it. Your entire body trembles and the wet sound of Jake’s length slamming in and out of you is fucking obscene. 

Roughly, Jake grabs your waist and turns you over and your hands scramble to try and catch yourself from face planting into the arm of the sofa. Grabbing your hips in both hands, Jake pulls you back into him to meet each thrust. The room is filled with nothing but the sound of his skin hitting yours and the moans and whines spilling from the both of you 

“Oh my god. Oh my god, Jake. Fuck!” You practically scream. “Right fucking there!”

“You’re mine, angel.” He growls into your ear. “Gonna fill you up. Get you fucking pregnant. Show everyone that you belong to me.” 

“Fill me up, Jake. Sir, please.” The ‘sir’ slips out of you on instinct, and you can feel Jake starting to lose his control. He’s fucking you harder than he ever has – his movements practically feral.

“God, the fans...” He starts, reaching his right hand up to tangle in your hair and pull – causing you to arch backwards into him. “They’re gonna fucking lose it seeing you all big and round with MY baby. Jesus.” 

“I want it so bad, Jake. Knock me up! Please!” Your words are starting to slur together and you can feel it as your body starts to tremble and shake. It feels like your nerve endings are on fire. 

“You’re gonna be so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant, Y/n.” He growls, his pace beginning to falter. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” 

“Give it to me, Jake.” You beg, tossing your head back with a moan as he reaches his hand around you to circle your clit. 

“Gonna give it to you, angel. Get you fucking fat and pregnant. Fuck!”

A high pitch moan escapes you as you cum again, and the feeling of your walls clenching around his length has him spilling into you. 

He groans loudly as he finishes – louder than you’ve ever heard him as he rocks his hips into you, making sure to get every last drop of his release deep inside of you. 

Finally, he collapses into you – utterly spent. You both lay there in silence, the sweat covering both of you causing your skin to stick together, though both of you are too tired to care. 

Eventually, he pulls out of you, hissing as he goes. You roll over onto your back, taking in the fucked out expression on his face. 

“Hi.” You say, grinning up at him. 

“Hi, baby.” His smile back to you is soft and his eyes practically glitter as they look at you. “Think it worked?”

You giggle softly. 

“I hope so. If not, we’ll just have to try again.”

“We should probably just go ahead and try again tomorrow anyway. Just to be safe.” 

That draws a real laugh out of you, and he leans down to press a sweet kiss to your lips. 

“Y/n.” He says suddenly, pulling away from the kiss with wide eyes. “I’ve just realized something.” 

“What?” You ask, taken aback by his abruptness. 

“Your boobs are gonna get so big.” He says with a wolfish grin, and you sigh at him dramatically. 

“Jacob Thomas Kiszka, you are a menace.”

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