#and pulling his hair out and eating your food and sleeping at the foot of your bed because at least he’s on it

[spottedgardeneelstan]

you’ll hear me howling outside your door

[midnightorchids]

Dick sat at the dinning room table, his case files scattered and his dinner cold. The room was quiet and fairly dim, his only light source was from a small lamp in the kitchen. He eyed the clock on the stove and then leaned back against his chair. The hard metal felt cool against his bare skin and he ran his hands across his face, frustrated.

There was a sudden upsurge of crimes in Bludhaven, all different MO’s, however, Dick couldn’t help but shake the feeling that there was something else going on. There was a connection there, he just didn’t know what it was yet.

Dick pulled his hands away from his face and went back to the file that laid in front of him. He read to himself silently, highlighting and circling important details, trying to find the missing link between the crimes.

It seemed as if hours had passed by, his body ached and his fingers felt sore, but he carried on with his research, desperate and determined.

“Dick, you’re still awake,” your gentle voice suddenly spoke up, pulling him out his trance. He finished reading his sentence before he looked up at you.

He stared at your heavy-eyed and sluggish state, he smiled at the sight of your messy hair. You looked breathtakingly beautiful to him.

“Yeah, I’m almost done though,” he said, yawning. You walked over to the dinning table, the pads of your feet softly tapping against the wooden floors, and you sat down on the chair next to him. He reached his hand out, and with just one swift move, pulled the chair closer to him. It scratched against the floor and you gasped at the sudden movement.

“You were too far,” he whined, while grabbing your hand. He placed a quick peck against your knuckles and you smiled sheepishly at his affection.

Dick was always physically affectionate. He needed to have his hands on you at all times, the small of your back, your waist, your shoulders, he just needed to hold you. You often thought it was his way of grounding himself, especially when he was overwhelmed or overly excited.

You pushed yourself closer to him and gently rested your head on his shoulder. You eyed the mess on the table and that’s when you noticed the neglected plate of food. Your heart dropped.

“Oh my god, you didn’t eat,” you exclaimed, moving your head away from him. You were quick to get up, ready to reheat the meal for him, but he grabbed your wrist before you could leave.

“Sit,” he said and you did.

“But-”

“It’s okay, I’m not hungry,” the worried look in your eyes pulled at his heart strings, and he spoke up again, “I’ll have a big breakfast in the morning.”

“Promise,” you asked, holding out your pinky. You wanted to ask him to eat right then and there, but you knew it was no use. He was stubborn and worked up over the case files, food was the last thing on his mind.

“Promise,” Dick said, connecting his own pinky with yours, he placed a quick kiss against your lips to seal the deal.

“Will you come to bed soon,” you asked and he nodded in response. “Okay, I’ll wait until you’re ready then.” Dick smiled with his heart full and his eyes heavy.

Dick was loved by many, adored even, but no one made him feel the way that you did. No one cared for him like you did.

“Alright, let’s go to sleep now,” he said abruptly, closing his pen with its cap. He stared at the mess of papers on the table and decided that it was a problem for the morning.

“But I thought you had more work to do” you questioned. He didn’t answer and instead lifted you in his arms, the action caught you off gaurd. It was always likes this with him, he was unpredictable, but comforting. You knew you were always safe with him.

You placed your arms around his shoulders and he held you bridal style up the stairs. You laughed at his antics while ruffling his messy brunette locks. He grinned and repeatedly kissed your cheek, enticing more giggles from you.

“Let’s get my baby back to bed,” he said softly before kissing your cheek one last time. Dick opened the bedroom door with his foot and placed you gently against the pale blue sheets.

He walked over to his side of the bed and stretched before laying down next to you. Once he got comfortable, you moved closer and placed your head on his bare chest. Your fingers instinctively wrapped themselves on to the small locket around his neck. He wore your initials. That too, with pride.

You traced the charm with your index finger and Dick let out a deep, exasperated sigh. He ran his hands through your hair. His fingers grazed your scalp and you hummed delightfully.

The moment was intimate and calming. It made your body feel limp with an overwhelming amount of comfort and it slowly lulled you to sleep.

Once Dick felt your soft, rhythmic breathing, he kissed your forehead before muttering a small “goodnight, doll,” and then, he finally let himself get the well needed rest.

[slytherinshua]

NIGHTS WITH YOU

genre. fluff. warnings. food (ramen). pairing. soobin x fem!reader. wc. 700. request. requested by @blue-jisungs (my baby) for #25: "are those my clothes" and #34: "where's my goodnight kiss?" a/n. i've been writing just so much sleepy fluff either sleepy morning fluff or sleepy bedtime fluff im not complaining cause its always so soft but yeah :(

Soobin stepped out of the bathroom, still drying his hair with a towel. His eyes immediately scoured around the room for you, and when he didn’t find you anywhere, a frown etched on his face. Since he had been at practice all day, you forced him to take a shower before delivering any hugs or kisses, despite how much he begged for them. It was a reasonable request, of course. He was sweaty and stinky— of course you’d rather kiss a clean Soobin. But your boyfriend hadn’t seen you all day and simply needed to be as close to you as possible for the rest of the night. 

He located you quickly, following the smell of spicy noodles to the kitchen. His eyes softened as he saw your figure, wearing one of his black t-shirts.  He pouted, coming up behind you to hold you in a back hug. 

“Are those my clothes?” He asked softly, a giddy smile growing on his face as soon as you laughed.

“You left your drawer open. They were practically asking for me to take them. Plus, they’re more comfortable than my pyjamas.” You said simply, stirring the sauce packet into the pot of ramen noodles you were preparing. 

Although Soobin’s shirts were much too big for you to wear daily, they made for the perfect oversized sleeping garment. As they were designed to fit your 6 foot man both height wise and broad back wise, they practically swallowed your figure. But you loved it, especially the way the shirts smelled exactly like your boyfriend. Soobin didn’t mind. How could he when you looked so cute in his clothes?

“We already share everything anyway. Including that ramen—?“

“No! You’re not getting any!” You shoved your boyfriend off of your back, defensively shielding the ramen pot from his prying hands. He frowned, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to find a way through, but each reach he took got expertly blocked by your chopsticks.

“That is not one bite. That’s like, 6 at least!” You slouched back onto Soobin’s chest, keeping up your pretend grumpiness after you had finally agreed to give him just one bite. Truthfully, you had prepared the ramen more for him than you in the first place. You just wanted to see him eat well after practice. But it was always fun to tease him. Admitting that you carefully prepared them for your boyfriend would make you look unbelievably whipped. Which you were, but you weren’t about to admit it out in the open.

“Here, open up.” Soobin said, holding the chopsticks up for you, feeding you the bite of ramen carefully. Maybe he was just as equally whipped. You whipped your frown off your face and snuggled closer to your boyfriend, enveloped by his fresh scent and warm skin. 

“I can’t believe Beomgyu got to see you more this week than me. It’s not fair.” You sighed, thinking back to the past couple of days. Even when Soobin didn't have a schedule, he’d busied himself in the company building with Beomgyu, playing games or writing lyrics. 

You had nothing against the younger member, you were as close to him as you were any of Soobin’s friends. But nothing hit you quite as hard as the loneliness you felt when Soobin was away from you. It felt nice to be back in his arms, knowing that there was nothing left for that day that would prevent you from falling asleep and waking up next to him. 

“Where’s my goodnight kiss?” Soobin asked once you were back in his arms after doing the dishes. 

“Right here.” You smiled, cupping his cheeks to bring his face down to your lips. As always, Soobin’s lips tasted heavenly. And, just like always, Soobin was the clingier of you two. He chased your lips every time you pulled away, causing you both to giggle. Countless soft pecks were placed around your face until his head hit the pillow and he gathered you up in his arms, close enough to hear his relaxed breath and steady heart beat. The rhythm lulled you to sleep, head resting against his chest and your back blanketed by his arms.

↳ txt taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @90steele,, @ddeonudepressions,, @minholing,,

@wolfmoonmusic,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,,

@amara-mars,, @wccycc,, @seunghancore,, @ujisworld,, @heavenfilm,,

@sobun1est,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @sxmmerberries,, @talking-saxy,,

@nicholasluvbot,, @cupidslovearrows,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @stannwjnss

[themochiverse]

Lost | JJK

➳ Pairing: yandere!kidnapper!jk x kidnapped!fem!reader

➳ Genre: Yandere, Angst

➳ Warnings: Swearing, kidnapped reader, jungkook is a bit violent to the reader, implied stalking, implied past assaults, Dub-con/Non-Con kissing and touching, Jungkook degrades the reader, drugging (sleeping pills), implied overdose to kill, suicidal thoughts, hair pulling, and scratches...

➳ Synopsis: When you try to escape from your captor's home one more time, there's always this feeling of lostness, and you don't know why but always feel lost. Lost in thoughts, lost in false hope, and lost in the woods with him.

➳ Word Count: 3k+

➳ Disclaimer: This fanfic is purely from my imagination, I do not intend to harm any Idol or person in any way. Nor sexualising them. Please do not steal any ideas from here, this is all of my work and original work. I DO NOT CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOUR.

Lost ©Copyright -2024- themochiverse - All Rights Reserved

No part of the story can be copied, reproduced, redistributed or transformed into any other form. Meaning no photocopying, recording whether written or electrically. No methods are allowed that use anything from this fic. This follows in the permitted Copyright Law. All images and/or gifs go to their rightful owners.

A/N: Finally wrote something in a while, hope you guys like it :)) Also please don't read if you feel uncomfortable, warnings have been listed above.

Taglist; @minshookie29 @6tslovr @proflyndo @pinkcherrybombs @papijiminfeed @justanotherstarlightmonger @kittykatfey @princess-sunshyn @jinniesjoon94

The dim light in the room emitted a warm, orangish-yellow glow, enveloping the space as your fingers were scratching the corner of a table. The gentle hue seemed to intensify the temperature, wrapping you in a sultry embrace, and causing beads of sweat to form on your skin. As the light flickered softly, your heart thudded in your chest, the rhythm echoing in the stillness of the room.

You gulped, and your foot impatiently tapped the wooden floorboards and it immediately stopped once you heard his footsteps. Your gaze was fixated on the corner of the table— you didn't want to look up.

You wanted to ignore him, wanted to ignore that bile feeling in your stomach that made you nauseous. His boots stomped across the room, getting closer to you and your fingers intensified the scratching.

Jungkook dipped his head towards your neck, his warm breath gently brushing over your skin, as it sent a shiver down your spine. His hands were tangled in the locks of your hair, and he pulled it gently. He kissed the side of your neck and rested his chin on your head.

"Food's cold."

Your eyes darted to the plate of food he had given you not long ago, and you hadn't touched it since he left for some errands. Normally you would eat the meals he made for you but your mind was eating you up, the constant thought of him possibly knowing you tried to escape last night.

But how would he know? Even if you had slipped a pill into his meal, which knocked him out for about thirty minutes, how would you escape? When you opened the front door the chilly air that hit you caused you to blink several times.

You were free. You finally get to leave.

But as you took the first step outside, your eyes scanned the tall trees that decorated the entire area. Your heart sank. You couldn't get out of this place because you don't know how to.

Where would you go even if you had run deep into the woods? Would you even find a road? A path that could lead you to a sane person? You tried to reason with yourself as you looked back inside. This was your chance to get away from a monster like him, you could report him to the police and go back to your family and friends...

But what if he found you? What if you were lost, and by the time he woke up and figured out you were gone, what would he do? He'd go berserk, and he will find you. You don't know why but you're certain of it. You don't know the woods very well unlike him.

Jungkook knows his way around this deserted place, he's lived in this small cabin for years now, and he held you captive for months now. Of course, he would know, he prepared it just for you. What if you died while trying to escape? What if—

You closed the door as your back rested against it. You were so pathetic, so hopeless.

You stood up and walked up the creaky stairs, entering the bedroom where Jungkook was sleeping on. The effect of the pill even had such good timing that it hit him when he was getting ready for bed with you anyway.

Yet, you wasted it.

A scream was lodged in your throat, and your lips trembled. You hated to cry, but you couldn't help it. The warm tears trailed down your face as you crawled onto the bed.

Kill him.

Your own mind spoke to you, and your breaths shook as you heard your next words.

Go on. Wrap your hands around his neck, and kill him.

Decorate him like a bow on a present, and kiss his lips until you can't breathe anymore.

Your eyes widened when your hands were on his neck. They squeezed the fragile base, and you could feel his pulse. Slow and rhythmic, and it matched the quiet breaths he let out.

You inspected his face, and his hair fell on the top of his eyebrows, his eyelids were shut and his lips were parted open.

He was demented, a cruel person. You won't ever forget the things he did to you, how you felt so humiliated because of him. He took you away from your loved ones just so he could selfishly keep you and show his immense love curated just for you.

But you still couldn't do it.

You pulled your hands away quickly and Jungkook's fingers twitched. There wasn't much time left till he woke up. If you killed him, you would have won and lost at the same time.

You had no idea where you were, and there was no cell reception for you to call anyone. How would you prepare food, and fend for yourself? You don't even know a pathway that could help you to leave this damn forest. What would you do without him? But at least he would be gone.

You sighed and wiped your tears away, and you curled up next to him. You don't know why but your hands automatically reached out to play with his hair until you fell asleep. You don't know why but there was a part of you that didn't want to leave him.

You snapped back into reality once you felt Jungkook slither his arms down your shoulders as he murmured softly.

"Come to the bedroom with me, baby."

You didn't hesitate to follow behind him, and even if you didn't want to come he'd force you to anyway. Jungkook shut the door once you stepped inside the bedroom, and he took off his leather jacket before he put it back on again.

He sat on the edge of the bed and checked out the dress you wore for him. A white mini dress adorned with white laced straps, and the soft, flimsy part stopped on your thighs midway. The embodiment of the outfit hugged your structure beautifully like a doll, and Jungkook couldn't control his growing desire for you.

He patted his lap, and his words came out in a command.

"Sit."

You took a step forward, and Jungkook grabbed your waist, making you sit down on his lap. One arm was wrapped around your waist tightly, and his other hand gripped your chin. Your faces were inches away from each other as Jungkook stared at you intently.

"You wanna tell me something, beautiful?"

Dear god no..

You shook your head at him, watching his lips form into a frown.

"Don't lie to me sweetheart, you know I don't like lying."

His tone had turned serious, and your stomach churned uncomfortably. Jungkook shuffled his arm to get something from his pocket, and he retrieved the item, showing it to you.

"What were these doing under the bed, baby?"

He shook the container filled with sleeping pills, (blue and white) and your fingers dug into his shoulders firmly. Your eyes were filled with terror, and panic flooded in your veins.

Jungkook chuckled at your reaction, and he brought your chin closer to his face. You were forced to stare at him, to look into the eyes that frightened you almost every day, no matter how loving he tried to be.

They were crazed...a look you never wanted to see. His tongue peeked out from his lips, and it traced the silver piercing that was on the flesh of his lips.

"You really think you knocked me out last night?"

Your heart banged against your ribcage, and your breathing increased. He can't know, he can't, he can't, he can't-

"Did you think I wouldn't notice the little act of you wanting to cook for me all of a sudden? Huh?"

Jungkook squeezed your cheeks harshly, and his lips moved against your cheek.

"I wanted to play along. Give you that feeling of being triumphant over something ridiculous. You really are a fool, aren't you?"

Your eyes darted away from his, and your hands were off his shoulders. You yelped softly when you felt him push you even further into him, your chests touching each other as he made sure he held you more securely.

His hand flew to your neck, and he grabbed it roughly, and his nails dug into your skin.

"Eyes on me when I'm fucking talking to you. And don't even think about fighting back." Jungkook's eyes narrowed and darkened as he spoke right against your quivering lips.

Your heart was beating rapidly, and you felt suffocated as if the smoke from a wildfire was in the room. He found out...Jungkook found out.

"When you tried to choke me- honestly...I was surprised. But I knew you didn't have it in you. You wanna know why? It's because you're a fucking pussy, baby. You don't have the guts to kill someone."

A laugh vibrated wholeheartedly from his chest and you felt his cold hand drawing circles on your thigh. He put his lips towards your neck, taking a long inhale before he spoke again.

"You were such a good girl a couple of days ago, what happened to that good little girl who listened to me? Hm?"

You wanted to get out of his grip so bad. Your palms, slick with fear adhered to his shirt like trembling moths ensnared in the silky strands of a spider's web. Your delicate touch betrayed the intensity of your uneasiness with each shuddering breath you took.

Jungkook pulled away from you, a sudden thought coming to his mind. He stops drawing circles on your thighs, and he tilts his head slightly.

"I'm going to give you a chance to run away, okay?"

No.

"Gonna count till...thirty, and you're going to run into those woods as fast as you can."

Stop.

"If I find you..." his hands slide up on the side of your body, arms encircling around your back, "I'm gonna shove these down your pretty little throat, got it?"

Jungkook motioned to the sleeping pill container, sending a wave of goosebumps flying over you, and the hairs on your neck stood as you took a solid gulp. He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours before he pulled away. His arms loosened around your back, brushing your hair away from your face. He lowered his forehead against yours, murmuring softly.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

For a moment, you were in a daze, lost in his eyes, captured in them. You didn't want to leave since he was probably messing around with you. You couldn't help but continue to stare at his doe eyes as your reflection glowed inside those dark eyes.

How were you so lost in them? Lost in the eyes of a man who kidnapped you, claiming he loved you. You were lost in your life, alone with no proper companion. Your life was already ruined, and you ached to be loved by someone. That's why he took you because he had a reason, and you didn't have a reason to deny it. You needed someone, and Jungkook claimed that he was the one.

He's observed you before, and you caught his eyes like a hawk once you bumped into him on your way to work. That's why he was able to snatch you on a cold Winter night, and he caught you, his prey, so easily. Why? You were lost, just lost in reality, lost in your depressive thoughts, and lost in love. You were just a poor girl lost in her delusions and wondering if your life would have been different if you had chosen the right decisions. You didn't notice him walking behind you, advancing on you before you could even utter a single scream.

It was an impulse and before you knew it your lips attached to Jungkook's moving ones. You grabbed onto his shirt, kissing him with soft movements.

Kissing him till you couldn't breathe anymore.

His hand was tangled in your hair and he pulled you closer, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. It was like Jungkook got the message, you wanted some hope, false hope to be exact. His tongue prodded at your lips before it slipped inside, and your body was growing hot as you both made out.

You almost let out a whine when he sucked and nipped on your bottom lip before he pulled away. You watched the way his chest rose and fell before a breathy laugh escaped his lips. His eyes scanned your face, and Jungkook grinned. He brought his hand to your face, wiping fresh tears off your face.

You were crying? Of course, just lost again but lost with him in an intimate moment.

He cupped your face, and his head beckoned to the door.

"Still haven't finished yet, baby, I'm close to twenty, you sure you don't wanna run now?"

You let out a quiet sniffle, getting off of him and once you left the room you sprinted down the stairs. You didn't bother to put your shoes on as you ran into the woods, your white socks already muddied. You ran and ran, and this time you noticed yourself crying. Why has your life turned into this? Why did you kiss him?

Your body shook with each step you took and each shuddering breath made you want to give up. It was completely dark, and the tall trees engulfed the entire area. There was barely any light, how were you even going to get away from him? The wind blew harshly over your face as you slowed down, stopping at a trail that seemed endless.

You wanted to laugh, but why did you even attempt to escape yesterday? Why did you even think about escaping in the first place? You know what happens, Jungkook has taught you several times but you just don't stop. Your life was shitty, your family disowned you because you were a disappointment to them. Your friends were toxic and fake, and you were alone. And you hated that.

Is that why you kissed him?

You kissed him because he was the only person who knew what your life was like, you kissed him because you were scared or maybe you kissed him because you were lost in the emotions you felt about him, and about yourself. There were moments when you were sad, and the next when you felt angry, rebellious, hopeless, irritated and lost.

Just run.

Just fucking run and stop thinking.

You're getting lost in your thoughts again, and he was going to catch you if you didn't stop now.

So you ran, and your heart was throbbing in your ears. Twigs snapped, birds cawed and for a second you thought you heard Jungkook.

You could hear another set of footsteps behind you, and the realisation dawned upon you. He's right behind you. You forced yourself to run even faster, ignoring the cuts that were plastered on your skin. You were running out of breath and your legs wobbled, they began to ache. You can't give up when you've come this far.

You can hear him getting closer to you. When you looked up straight ahead, there was a faint light that glowed uphill. A light! It could be a car, a home, or somebody. You bit your lip as you tried to go uphill, the pain in your feet grew as you stepped on sharp twigs and debris, desperately trying to climb up. You squinted your eyes to see a road, and your hope grew instantly.

You could leave, you could find someone and call for help, you could finally get away from him—

Jungkook's arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. A scream erupted from your throat, and you thrashed in his hold.

No— you were right there, you were about to escape.

A sob broke from your lips as you kicked your legs, doing anything to get out of his hold. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear, his hold on you tightening.

"Shh," his voice didn't soothe whatever you felt right now, "if you fight me back, I swear I'll make it worse for you."

The threat hung in the air, and it immediately made you stop your movements. Jungkook pushed you down to the forest floor, the wet soil coated your white dress, and this time the scratches stung even more.

"I was going to take you back, but look how far you made it. Almost made it out of here." A smirk formed on his lips as he took out the sleeping pill container.

"How does three sound?"

His words were a blur to your ears as you stared into the far distance. The light was still glowing brightly and soon a car drove by. You sobbed and your nails dug into the ground. Just a bit more time and you would've been free.

You felt the back of your head yanked up, and Jungkook's hand tugged your hair as you glared at him with furious eyes.

Jungkook whistled, smiling as he popped open the container.

"Don't look at me like that, you should have left the moment I started to count."

Your eyes fell to the water bottle next to him and that's when it hit you. Jungkook giggled at your reaction as he unscrewed the lid on the bottle.

"Came prepared because I knew my girl would get lost in these woods pretty fast, and far."

One hand gripped your jaw, and Jungkook pushed the pills inside your mouth. And he gave the bottle to you.

He wanted you to do it because he knew that you knew you lost. Your hands squeezed the bottle, and you brought it to your lips before chugging a good amount to swallow the pills.

"Did you say three?"

You asked him with a hopeless look.

"I lied," he said, watching you with a gleam on his face, "and gave you two instead because I don't want to kill you."

You wanted to laugh at that, maybe you should have just taken three. The effects soon hit you, and your eyes became sluggish, and your eyes blurred with tears. You lost your grip on the floor, and Jungkook swooped you into his arms effortlessly. His face was blurred as he was taking you back to the cabin. Just before your body shut down, right before your tears escaped and your eyes closed, Jungkook murmured to himself quietly, and a mixed feeling of hope and happiness washed over him.

"You're lost again, baby."

[lordprettyflackotara]

WhoGoesThere? || Eyeless Jack || Part three

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. tw: virginity loss, praise, breeding kink, possessive kink¿ if you squint, a tiny bit of blood related to the virginity loss. this is the fluffiest smut you guys are ever gonna get from me. enjoy ;)

Jack wasn’t quite sure what to do with you.

He wasn’t even sure how humans functioned on a traditional schedule. He was used to being mostly nocturnal, not worried about water intake. He only ate when he was absolutely hungry and couldn’t stand it anymore. But he knew humans preferred a regular sleeping cycle and eating habits. So, he did what he thought was best. He sprinted to the mansion, digging into the stash of the proxies food. He returned with a clean set of clothes, ones from his personal closet. A pair of basketball shorts and hoodie wasn’t ideal, but at least you wouldn’t be tempting him by wearing that short dress.

Jack proudly stood in front of his findings, several water bottles and a box of cereal sitting on the kitchen counter. It wasn’t long before you trailed out of the bedroom, your hair tangled and makeup smudged. Your head was pounding, your body feeling sluggish. “Remind me to never drink again,” You said. Jack grabbed a bottle of water, extending it to you. “This’ll help,” He told you. You took the bottle of water, unscrewing the cap and chugging it quickly. Jack nervously glanced at the two remaining water bottles. Yeah, he should’ve accounted for your dehydration. He had forgotten how much alcohol dehydrates a traditional human system.

“So, about last night.”

Jack looked at you, watching as you went to uncomb your matted hair with your fingers.

“I was serious about what I said you know,” You continued. Jack furrowed his eyebrows unsurely. You pulled your dress down, adjusting the fallen strap on your shoulder, “I want you to take my virginity.”

Jack stood there, shifting his weight on either foot. “I’m not opposed, I just don’t quite understand why?” Jack answered. You had truly puzzled him. Why would a magnificent creature like you suggest in mating with someone like him? “Well, you’re tall, smart, and quite honestly you’re extremely attractive,” You confessed. Jack thought about your words, your compliments making his heart throb. “You don’t even know what I look like,” Jack said bluntly. No matter how much he wanted to be in between your thighs, he didn’t want to scar such a life changing event for you because of his rough exterior. Nonchalantly you grabbed the box of fruit loops, walking over to the fridge.

“I wouldn’t open that if I were you,” Jack warned. Sure, the cabin had a slim possibility of having electricity. But based on previous tenants there was no guessing how much rotten food had complied in that refrigerator. “Do you not have milk?” You asked. Jack could’ve face palmed if you weren’t standing before him. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore how embarrassed he felt. “Um no I do not. Sorry. But I got you a change of clothes,” Jack replied. He held his clothes out to you, happy that you took them. They were going to be massive on you, but they’d fit somehow and that’s all that mattered to him.

“Thank you,” You said. You immediately went to take off your dress, Jack quick to turn around. You were so relaxed around him, he couldn’t understand it. Surely you didn’t know who he was or what he was. Or all of the terrible things he had done. You didn’t deserve to lose something so precious to a monster like him. “I don’t care what you look like. I know what I want,” You declared. You slid on his hoodie and shorts, gently grabbing his shoulder to guide him to turn around. Jack sighed. He couldn’t deny that your scent was intoxicating. Nor could he deny how badly he craved to hear your voice. The mere thought of you squirming and whimpering beneath him sent him in a frenzy.

He straightened his shoulders. He could feel his stomach rumbling. If he was going to allow this to happen, he needed to be sure he ate first. Otherwise you’d become the main meal. “I’ll make you a deal. Meet me here tonight. I’ll make the bedroom inhabitable. You can have some more time to think about if this is what you truly want,” Jack offered. It also gave him time to have a full stomach before allowing himself to be in the same room as you. You nodded, eating a handful of cereal. “If you change your mind, don’t come. It won’t hurt my feelings,” Jack lied. Even if you did change your mind, he hoped you would come provide him with company.

You stood on your tippy toes, ruffling his chestnut hair, “You’re cute Jack. I’ll see you tonight.”

With those words hanging in the air you left the cabin, cereal box in hand. You left Jack in wonder, watching as you strolled back to civilization.

\/

To say Jack was nervous was an understatement. If he had participated in intercourse before it was long before his rebirth. He knew how it worked, of course. He was going to be a doctor after all, once upon a time. He knew the human body, male and female, inside and out. To prepare himself he watched lots of traditional porn, attempting to understand what made a female feel good. Unfortunately for him, Ben’s old school VHS tapes provided nothing educational nor entertaining. So instead he spent the day preparing the cabin. Thankfully due to Slenderman’s ancient ways he was able to grab many long cream colored candles.

He was displeased to discover the cabin did not have electricity, but the dim lighting provided him with a little bit of ease. Maybe his appearance wouldn’t be astoundingly off putting in a room like that. Jack ensured the bedding was clean, this time bringing toiletry items that might be suitable for a female. Shampoo, conditioner, body wash, toothbrush and paste. Jane would not be happy once she discovered her secret stash of hygiene products would be tampered with. But to Jack, it was between her and robbing a gas station. That was sure to ruin his plans for the evening.

Jack showered himself, pleased that the cabin did have running water. He scrubbed every inch of his being, his stomach full. To make himself feel better he didn’t kill his last victim, he simply stole what was needed and was on his way. He brushed his teeth until his gums bled. He was trying his hardest to appear appealing, even if he was disgusted with himself everytime he looked in the mirror. The sun fell from the sky faster than Jack wanted it to. He anxiously sat in the living room, awaiting your arrival. What if you got lost? It wasn’t exactly safe to let you travel here on your own.

His leg bounced up and down, a sigh of relief escaping his lips once he heard a knock on the door. Jack sprang up from his seat, his heart thudding with nervousness. He opened the door, your doe eyes staring up at him. “Hi Jack,” You greeted softly. Jack swallowed, the faint taste of mint toothpaste still prominent on his tongue. “Hi. Um, come in,” He gestured awkwardly. He led you to the bedroom, unsurely stuffing his hands in his hoodie pocket. Why was this so difficult? He pushed open the door, the dozens of candles softly illuminating the room. You stared at the gesture in awe, giving him a soft smile. You walked over to the bed, sitting on the side.

“Come here Jack,” You instructed. Jack was completely at your disposal. You had meant for him to sit beside you, the demon instead lowering himself to his knees in front of you. “You need to see what I look like before we do this. I need you to be sure,” Jack choked out. You opened your legs, your feet planted on either side Jacks nervous body. “You’re practically shaking Jack. Relax,” You whispered. You slowly pulled down his hood, the demon gulping as you gently pushed the mask upwards. His lips and nose looked normal to you, your heart picking up the pace once you took the mask all of the way off. You and Jack stared back at each other. Black ooze dripped down his eye sockets, empty holes replacing where his eyes should’ve been. Jack stared right back at you, his face full of visible nervousness and anticipation.

He blinked, studying your face. You said nothing, your face empty of an expression. He could hear your heart racing, a sure sign you found him revolting. Jacks breath hitched as you brushed some of his hair away from his forehead. Your fingertips were gentle against his ash gray skin. Slowly and unsurely you cupped Jacks cheek into your hand, studying him. You touched him as if he were made of glass. You felt tongue tied, the thoughts running through your head far from appropriate. “This is why they call you EJ?” You guessed. Jack nodded shyly, his cheeks flushing with heat. This was a terrible idea. This was beyond stupid. It was then you lifted his chin, bringing your lips to his.

Jacks breath hitched as he struggled to comprehend what was happening. He kissed you back, your lips warm and soft against his. “You are the most enchanting creature i’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. And if i’m being blunt, I want you to fuck me now,” You whispered. Jack was on you in an instant, climbing on top of the bed. He tried to contain himself, his lips moving against yours quickly and desperately. “I have to warn you. I can be a bit.. rough. It’s my nature,” Jack panted. He was hovering above you, staring down at the angelic sight that was you beneath him. “Well since we’re giving warnings, i’ve never done anything beyond making out,” You confessed. Jack was sure his cheeks were scarlett red. He could tell you felt just as flushed, a pink tint visible on your cheeks.

“You’ve never um, played with yourself?” Jack asked. You shook your head. “I’ve um, tried it’s just never felt right. If that makes sense,” You answered honestly. Jack nodded, leaning back and shoving his hoodie over his shoulders. He tossed it aside. You were so small beneath him. Was this safe? Was this ethical? His mind rattled with questions, before he finally leaned back down over you. “Just tell me what feels good, alright? Are you sure about this?” Jack asked again. He searched your face for any sign of hesitation, surprised to see he found none.

“Jack, please.”

Your plea ignited a small inside of him, his hands roaming your body. They grabbed the hem of your shirt, tossing it over your body and side. He reattached his lips to yours, his lips moving desperately as he squeezed your flesh teasingly. His large hands landed on your breast, tenderly groping them. A small groan escaped your lips, his eager ones swallowing it whole. He strayed away from your lips, tenderly pressing kisses down the side of your face to your neck. You wrapped your arms around him, your heart racing even faster as he kissed down your chest. He stopped at your chest. “Lean forward for me,” Jack murmured. You sat up, allowing him to unclasp your bra and toss it aside.

He swallowed as he lowered himself to your exposed breath, taking your left nipple into his mouth. He was pleasantly surprised to hear your whimpers, one of your hands embedding itself in his hair. You tugged at his locs, quite embarrassed at the noises you were making. “Fuck, Jack,” You whined. He released your nipple with a pop, the sensitive bud hardening under the cool night air. He took it between his fingers, attaching his mouth to your right one. You were squirming underneath him, your hips involuntarily bucking upwards. Teasingly he grazed your nipple with his sharp teeth, a jagged moan escaping your throat. He released it with a pop, giving you a cocky smirk. “That feel good?” He asked. You nodded profusely, looking at him.

His cock was throbbing in his pants, his outline visible to you even with the dim lighting. “How i-is that gonna fit?” You stumbled out. Jack was already massive in comparison to you. And that didn’t include factoring in the size of his cock. “I’ll make it fit. Just need to loosen you up first,” Jack cooed. He laced his fingers with the hem of your skirt and panties, pulling them downwards. He guided you to spread your legs, your eyes screwed shut in embarrassment. “Such a pretty pussy,” Jack praised. He lowered himself in between your thighs, running a finger up and down your slick. “And so wet. All for me?” Jack purred. His large hands kept your thighs pried apart, a sly grin spreading across his lips. Jack had never thought much of having three tongues. He never saw a use for them. Nor did he have any idea what to do with them, until Ben made a few crude jokes.

Looking back he was disgusted, but now as your core throbbed to be touched, he’d have to remember to thank Ben for the idea. He used the first one to lick up your folds, your hands immediately reattaching themselves to his hair. Teasingly he brought the second one to your entrance, slowly pushing it inside. He felt your thighs shudder for a moment, your walls spasming around his tongue. He used the first one to toy with your clit, flicking the bud as quickly as possible. He listened to your body intently, allowing you to adjust before curling his tongue upwards. Your hips lifted off of the bed, his firm hands securing you into place. “Fucking, fuck!” You moaned. You threw your head back, Jack groaning into your cunt as he pushed in his second tongue.

He used the two to curl upwards, brushing against your g spot. Your thighs attempted to squeezed around his head, an unfamiliar knot forming in your stomach. Jack’s tongues were relentless, prodding and toying with you as he pleased. He couldn’t get enough of your taste, your arousal sending him into a frenzy. The sinful noises that left your lips bounced off of the cabin walls, your thighs beginning to tremble. “Oh fuck! I’m gonna cum, Jack please make me cum, Jack!” You groaned, creaming around his tongues. Your juices tasted divine, the demon eagerly lapping at your slick. He slowly emerged from your thighs, his lips and chin covered in your juices. He was quite comfortable in between your thighs and he did not anticipate on going anywhere. Slowly he brought his thick fingers to your entrance, shoving two inside of you.

You whined in pain, grabbing at his wrist. He leaned forward, bringing himself close to your ear. “Shhh it’s okay. You can do it. Such a good girl,” He praised. His breath was hot against your skin, his thumb beginning to circle your overstimulated clit. You swallowed, pulling him closer. His fingers repeated the same action, brushing upwards on your g spot. He began to do a scissoring motion, stretching you out as much as possible. Your painful whimpers turned into loud moans. “Thats it. Look at you, taking my fingers so well,” Jack purred. You grabbed onto his wrist, your other hand gripping a handful of the sheets. “Awe what’s this? Do you want me to stop?” Jack teased.

You were a babbling mess. “N-no just need to hang o-on to something,” You rambled, stumbling over each word. Jack could hear your heart pounding, the sound music to his ears. His fingers were relentless as he finger fucked you, satisfied with you withering below him. “Awe is someone close for me? You wanna be a good girl and cum for me?” Jack asked. You propped yourself up on your elbows, meeting his gaze. “Wanna b-be good. Wanna cum,” You say. Jack leaned forward, cupping your face with his other hand. “Open your mouth,” He grunted. You did as instructed, his thumb entering your mouth. You immediately sucked it the best you could, the feeling only making Jack harder.

“Oh you dirty girl. Cum for me. Cum for me all over my fucking fingers,” Jack growled. You were in a trance, your legs shaking as you came all over his fingers. Your tongue swirled around his tongue, a sigh escaping your lips as he removed his fingers from your cunt. Jack began to fiddle with his belt, removing his thumb from your mouth. “Are you sure about this?” Jack asked again. His cock sprang out from his boxers, his shaft much longer than you had ever seen in porn before. “Jack… please,” You whispered. Jack couldn’t deny you any longer, his own primal urges overshadowing any reservations he might’ve had. He leaned forward, lacing his fingers with yours. With the other hand he brushed his tip up and down your slick, trying to gather as much lubrication as possible. His gaze met yours. “Are you ready?” Jack asked you. You babbled in agreement, squeezing his hand.

Jack buried himself in the crook of your neck, slowly shoving himself inside of you. You whined in pain, your walls squeezing his cock so tight he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to go further. “It’s okay. I got you. It’s alright,” Jack cooed in your ear. He pressed kisses against your neck, slowly sinking in further. It was then Jack could smell the faintest scent of blood, causing him to look down. A thin ring of the crimson paint covered his cock, his shaft not all the way in yet. Jack slithered his spare hand to your clit, rubbing slow and purposeful circles around the bud. He could feel your body start to relax. “You’re doing so good for me,” He mumbled into your skin. It wasn’t long before he was able to fully bottom out.

You both were panting, the gears in Jacks head turning. He had never fucked anyone or anything since he had became a demon. He had never allowed himself to give in to the hormonal urges. Yet, as he was balls deep into your cunt, it was like a switch in him flicked. Unintentionally Jack was rough with everything he handled. He knew he had to be careful with you, but his mind was screaming at him to give in. He slowly began to move, grunting into your neck. Your painful whines turned into pleasurable groans the more he moved, your sounds giving him more motivation. The more he fucked you, the more his body demanded to breed you. It demanded for him to deem you as his mate.

He leaned back, grabbing your legs and throwing them over his shoulders. Jack was fucking you as deeply as he could, your mewls sending waves of satisfaction over him. “Such a good little thing. Taking me like this,” He panted. His cock abused your cunt as he pleased, your legs beginning to shake. “You’re fucking milking me. It’s like you’re begging me to cum inside of you,” Jack groaned. He could feel your gushy walls fluttering around him, causing him to smirk. “Oh I see. You’d like that wouldn’t you? To carry my little demon spawn?” He chuckled darkly. You were a babbling mess, your body’s reaction telling him everything he needed to know.

“Never would’ve taken you for the type into breeding,” Jack muttered to himself. He continued to snap his hips into yours, holding your legs proudly over his shoulders as he fucked you into the mattress. “This cunt is mine, do you understand? Ryan doesnt matter. He can fuck you all he wants but you’ll always be thinking of me, won’t you?” Jack rambled. His possessiveness was making a grand appearance, the demon having a hard time keeping it together. You babbled an agreement, your mouth hanging open as he slammed into you. “Be a good little girl for me and cum on my cock. Go on,” Jack huffed. With another circle from his fingers your body shook under his, creaming on the demons cock. Your heart was racing so loudly it was all Jack could hear, the sound sending him over the edge.

He panted as he set your legs down, his seed down deep and buried into your womb. You were spent, your vision hazy and body exhausted. Jack slowly pulled out of you, watching your body tremble slightly. You were in no state to take care of yourself, the demon picking you up instinctively. He walked you over to the bathroom, guiding you to stand on the cold marble floor. “You need to pee,” He ordered. You raised your eyebrows, your face going with an afterglow. “Thats the last thing I expected you to say to me after that,” You chuckled. Jack raised his eyebrows, “What? It’s necessary to prevent future issues.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. You gently shoved him towards the door. “Get out so I can pee,” You say. He stood in the hallway, allowing you to shut the door for some privacy. Why you were insistent upon privacy to urinate after he had just fucked you senseless, Jack didn’t know. But what he did know, was that he wanted to fuck you again and again and again.

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hazbin Boys x reader- Comfort ❤️‍🩹

This is a request from an anon- hazbin boys comforting reader with depression/mental illness. Includes Lucifer, Angel, Husk, Sir Pentious, Vox and just a dab of Alastor. Original request here + a heart felt message from yours truly 💌

TW: depression, mental illness, sickeningly sweet fluff

Notes: gn!reader, NSFW during Angel’s part 18+ plz

Lucifer 🍎

Oh my goodnessssssss, prepare to be treated like absolute royalty.

I’m talking foot rubs, back rubs, playing with your hair

Not only will he make you food, he’ll literally try to feed you and offer you sweet praises when you do eat. Eating can be a real chore sometimes…

“Good job, my love. It’s gonna be okay…okay?”

I think Luci is pretty touchy in general, but when you’re down in the dumps, he gets extra clingy and touchy

He’ll pretty much constantly have a hand on you- holding your hand, a hand on your back, a gentle rub on your shoulder

Will unfurl his wings and drag you close to him in bed, wrapping his arms and silky feathers around you as he lulls you to sleep

Like imagine a midday depression nap all tangled up with Luci, curtains drawn so the room is nice and dark, the temp is perfect, the bed is hugging you just as good as your babe next to is. Ugh. Plz, I want this. I need this.

Will try to gently coax you out of bed and try to get you out of the house. He knows it won’t be easy for you but he thinks getting you cleaned up, dressed and out doing something fun you’ll feel a bit better. You’ll at least be distracted from your sadness for a bit.

He’s so kind and nonjudgmental too. He gets it completely. He has depression too. Even the king of hell deals with mental illness, okay? Mental illness does not discriminate

He’ll offer the best advice he can muster up, using his own experiences to help you out of your funk

All in all, he’s just an absolute sweet pea. So doting, so caring.

Angel Dust 🕸️

Also has mental illness, also gets it completely.

KING OF DISTRACTIONS

Angel is a sweet boy but I don’t think he’d be too great at offering advice…

So he does his best to distract you from your feelings, doing whatever it takes to get you to smile, even just for a second.

Will ask you what you want to do first, whatever will make you happy, he’ll go along with it.

If you insist on rotting in bed, he’ll probably respectfully pull you out of bed, tell you “this ain’t good for ya, babe” and force you to go do something fun, something relaxing, something for yourself

Sorry not sorry but he’ll def offer to cheer you up by fucking you, letting you fuck him, eating you out, sucking your dick. Go ahead, take your stress out on him, he can take it ;)

Also the king of self care.

SPA DAY SPA DAY SPA DAY

Will draw you and him a bath, rub your shoulders while you sit in the warm water together, will even wash your hair for you

Forces you to wear a face mask with him lmao

“C’mon, (Y/N)! Lemme paint ya nails! You’ll look sooooo cuuuuuute~”

Expect lots of touching and kisses with him at night, especially if you’re having trouble sleeping

Rubs your back, rubs your arms, will rub gentle circles on your butt if you’ll let him, kisses your head, kisses your cheeks, kisses your nose

ALL THE KISSESSSSSS 💋💋💋

Husk 🃏

Okay listen…this guy is obvi a great listener and he’s pretty good at giving advice. Honestly, he’s probably the best person to go to.

Husk is an old soul, he’s pretty wise, has a lot of life experience, death experience, his own experience with mental illness and even addiction.

He could just listen to you talk for hours, waiting for you to pause before he replies. He’d never interrupt. He’s so patient with you 🥹

Will keep a close eye on you and any new habits you’ve seemed to pick up. He fixes his own issues with booze but he’s the type to say “do as I say, not as I do”

Won’t let you spiral into addiction like he did…it’s not an option.

I think Husk would be a good mix of “Come here, give Husker a hug. It’s alright, hun. Let’s go take a little nap, yeah?” and “Hey, I know what’ll cheer ya up!” *proceeds to show you the coolest, craziest magic tricks*

He’s a good balance of comfort and distraction

Anything he can do to help, just say the word

Will tell you funny shit he’s seen the folks around the hotel do just to see you laugh for a moment

“One time, Angel was walking right in front of the bar at like 7 in the morning and tripped over literally nothing and face planted! I had the best seat in the house. It was hilarious.”

This is my own personal headcanon, idk why but I feel like Husk can cook really well. He’d totally make you food, even bring it to you in bed if you don’t feel like getting up

Will absolutely let you play with him like a kitten, won’t even be upset about it. Play with his ears, give him pets, let his fur be your stim toy, let his purr soothe your achy heart

Sir Pentious 🐍

Plzzzz, he’s such a simp. I love this slippery, special little guy 💚

Big on cuddles! Will cuddle you all day, all night if you want. Loves the physical contact, and loves it even more when he can feel you relax a bit against him.

Will make his eggs boys do anything for you. Whatever you want, you tell them and they’ll happily oblige.

Kinda random but I think he’d be the type to try and pull silly little pranks on ppl around the hotel just to get you to laugh. He’s such a silly goose omg

He doesn’t really understand what you’re going through so he’ll just keep asking you what he can do, how he can help, what you want, what you need from him.

He doesn’t get it but he’ll do anything for you.

When you’re feeling particularly lazy and it’s extra hard to leave your bed, he’ll literally carry you around. Just lounge in his arms, darling, he’ll take you wherever you need to go. Don’t need to go anywhere? Fine, you’re gonna come along with him to do his daily tasks. Sit in his lap and just watch as he works.

Just wants to keep you close. He can’t stand the thought of you being alone when you feel like this. No matter where he is or what he’s doing, he wants you close.

Unless you insist on having some alone time or needing some space. Again, whatever you need from him, you got it.

Although, he may get a little teary eyed and pouty when he leaves you. Can’t stop thinking about you all day and probably comes and checks on you several times.

Vox 🖥️

“CANCEL MY MEETINGS, HOLD ALL MY CALLS, TELL EVERYONE IM NOT RESPONDING TO EMAILS UNTIL TOMORROW!”

Guy needs to focus on his baby right now. You are his top priority, everything else can wait. You are just too precious to put on the back burner.

Will be sure to tell Val and Velvette to leave you two alone. He doesn’t want them upsetting you any more than you already are.

This man has his assistants waiting on you hand and foot. He’s gonna stay in your bed with you, cuddled up with tons of blankets, both in your pajamas as you watch movies while ordering his staff to bring you whatever it is you desire.

Will eventually yank you out of bed bc he can’t stay still for too long but you’re coming with him. Wants to keep you company always

In public, Vox isn’t the most romantic or touchy. He’s a busy man with a huge reputation to uphold. While he would never completely ignore you and he’s no ashamed to show some PDA with you, you sort of always find yourself following in his shadow when he’s hard at work.

Once he sees how much your mental health is affecting you, he becomes much more attentive, much more protective of you.

He’ll hold your hand or keep his arm around you when out and about. Will give you a gentle kiss and a prideful smile before getting on set for a news shoot.

If you’re having a particularly hard day, everyone get out of the way! Hes taking the day off, he doesn’t give a fuck what anyone says or thinks.

You are too important to him. Without you, what good would all his accomplishments be? Without you, who would he share all this with?

He needs you to stick around 🩵

Alastor🩸

I think Alastor would be absolutely clueless but he’d try his best nonetheless!

He’d also be one to try and distract you.

Wanna go to cannibal town and visit Rosie? She’ll help cheer you up! She’s a great listener with tons of good advice to give

Will reluctantly invite you into his room and lead you to the half of it that looks like a swamp/forest. He will take off his coat and sit in the grass with you, staying silent but watching you look around in awe.

He’s got lots of cool powers and will summon or manifest little things here that he thinks will bring a smile to your face.

Summons little lightning bugs to carefully dance around your face, holds back from slaughtering a deer that’s approaching just so you can admire it from afar, will watch with a genuine smile as you lay back in the grass and relax to the sound of crickets chirping and light jazz music.

If you asked…he might give you a hug. Might.

Also sends his shadow to check up on you every so often but if you notice this, he will deny it with all his might.

[puripurin]

— "Mama! Mama!Look! Look at this!!" The twins squealed as they dragged you from stall to stall. All of them contained a variety of exotic fruties, vegetables, and meats only native to the planet. Though it was at the back of your mind as you were out of the palace without permission.

"Shhh, Phi, Mero! What if we get caught!" The only reason why you had even snuck out of the place was because they said they weren't allowed to step foot out of the place. Although you knew you were 100% going to be punished, it was worth it for the twins to experience going to the market.

"Mamaaa- lookkkk!!! It's a- a um... Phi, do you know what kind aminilal it is??" Mero struggled with remembering the animal was called, so he asked his sister. You looked over at the animal he was referring to, and it was around powdery white fox-like animal with 2 pairs of blue eyes and two large horns.

"Meroooo, it's pronounced animallll!! It's the Strisam Snow Fudan. It's from the country from that bad woman who made Papa all sick and dizzy and tried to sleep in the same bed with him! Only Mama and us can sleep with Papa!" Phi huffed and glared at the fox-like creature who ignored her. Your mouth was slightly opened as you looked in confusion at the pouting child. Maybe it was best if you hadn't taken the job offer and stayed home because judging by what Phi said, that woman is probably planning your execution.

"Oh! Thank you, Phi. Mamaaa, I want something to munch onnn!!" Mero tugged on you as Phi glared at the animal who didn't give one shit. You sighed as people stared at you weirdly.

"Phi, Mero, can you calm down a bit? Mero, I will get food just now if you can relax a little and Phi, just because it came from a place that a woman you didn't like came from, doesn't mean the "fudan" did anything wrong, okay? Now, let's find something that you guys want to eat." You sighed and rubbed their heads. Even if they were royalty, they were still children.

As you roamed different parts of the city, you could notice someone was watching, but it was only a few times, so you didn't really bother figuring out who it was. And soon it reached evening and you all quietly talked about the mini adventure you all had. Though it was cut quickly by a person.

"Oh? What's a lady like you roaming around here with two adorable children?" The man chuckled, but his voice seemed altered, and he wore layers of black clothes. You pushed the children to an empty alleyway as you positioned yourself to fight

"It's none of your business." You quickly took off your coat as well so you can have fewer weaknesses. The man chuckled, and you felt his eyes looking you up and down.

"A human... On top of that, you're sexy with that gorgeous body." You glared at him as you went and made your first move by trying to give him a swift blow to the jaw, but he blocked it with his hand before gripping it and tossing you to the ground. An alien's fighting prowess was no joke, but you could feel as if he was going easy on you.

"Ugh! I'm a married person! I'm married to your weird ass king!" You growled as you slapped his hand away before moving to punch him in the face, and he dodged it again. Once more, he let a chuclked after a moment's pause.

"... Say that again." Your eyes slightly widen at his reaction before going back to be focused.

"Yeah. You heard that I'm married to your king—" You were thrown off your feet as he pressed down your two hands onto the floor. You erratically moved around, hoping he will relase you.

"Ah, my sweet, sweet spouse. You're already admitting that you're married to me." The mysterious mam pulled off his cloak, revealing himself to by Zypher. Your face felt extremely hot and looked away to the alleyway only to see them cheering on their father.

"So... How was my acting, my love? Though I'm sorry for hurting you, I know humans are delicate creatures, so I tried my best to reduce my strength." He started to caress you hair as you glared at him.

"You just wanted to be a pervert!" You huffed and shifted to look away from him. He laughed before moving his leg in between your thighs and pressing it on your crotch. You blushed as you tried moving away but only grinded on him.

"Pervert... A pervert you're call me? Ha! So I can't sexualize my own spouse? Ah, alas, we must leave now. The night is just upon us, and the children need to get ready." He gets up and lifts you up by your waist to press you against his warm body.

"Papaa!! Hiiii" Mero and Phi screeched as they slammed into their father legs. He bent down to pick them up and place them comfortably in his arms.

"Ah, how's my lovely children? Was your trip to the marketplace pleasant?" Almost instantly, they started to babble about everything that happened and what they saw and did. You smiled softly at the sight, but perked up in realization.

"Ah, so I won't get punished for taking the children out?" You asked happily. Zephyr glanced at you once before adjusting the children away from you before whispering.

"Yes." And had an innocent smile on his face whilst saying that. Then, he moved back to his original position.

"Firstly, you took the children out of the place without permission. Do you not know how dangerous that was for them? Two, you... you didn't invite me to come." You pursed your lips as you looked down. You heard him sigh in disappointment.

"Though, it's only been a month since we've gotten married, so I don't expect you to be comfortable that quickly with me." He shook his head before stopping in front of you and staring into your eyes. He walked closer and leaned down to kiss you.

"Love you." He said gently, and his children giggled and looked at your shocked face.

"Also, your punishment will happen promptly once we've reached the place." You froze as you looked up at him, only to see a happy smile on his face. Yeah, no, you could already feel the pain that your body was going through, the whips and hits you would face made you shudder.

"Not what you were expecting, my love?" He said as he slammed his lengthy cock right into you at fast speeds, making you crumble in pain and pleasure at his movements. He made sure that all of the lovebite he created was painful and bleeding.

"Alas... you really do have a sexy body, only made for me... Mhh, for going out of place without permission, I'll, ahh, up the number of guards you have... Fuck, you're wrapping around my cock very nice for me, and only for me..." Then Zephyr leaned in to bite your shoulder as you came again for the 4th time.

Tags: @emptybrain01

Anyways yall must have missed me poasting. I'm soz, the wifi was shit and im practicing for a presentation in front of people that i dont know. *quakes in horror*.

Alas, i cant do anything about it. *playes the worlsed smallest violin.*

Noot pifftred

Edit: i forgor tags again for the 3rd time

[httpdwaekki]

sick days | l.f.

summmary: felix is feeling under the weather but luckily his angel is there to help him feel better.

wc: 2k

warnings: i know channie n lix don't live in the same dorm but for the sake of this story they do <3. descriptions of the flu and food, too many pet names, use of y/n. not proofread, lowercase intended.

a/n: okayyy, this is a request i was given a lil while ago (i'm so sorry this took so long) also wrote this in like 4 hours until three am so if the ending is weird that’s why but i’ll proofread it tomorrow. with that being said, i hope u enjoy, remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3

my library

(pictures not mine! credit to owners!)

you knew something was off, you couldn’t put your finger on it but you had a gut feeling. you had asked felix if everything was okay and he reassured you everything was fine. that was until a few days later he texted you letting you know he was feeling sick.

you had already called into work, letting them know you weren’t going to be in the office for a few days but you’ll do some work on your computer. you texted him once more, asking him what he needs but you didn’t receive a response.

assuming he’s probably resting you give his older counterpart a call. there was about three rings before he picks up, “hello?” an aussie voice fills your ears. “hi channie.” you smile. “y/n! hi, what can i do for you?” he asks.

“felix told me he wasn’t feeling well so i tried to text him to ask if he needed anything but he didn’t respond so i’m assuming he’s asleep. but i was calling so ask if you knew if he needed anything or if you guys need anything at the dorms.” you explain, placing him on speaker opening your notes app.

“oh! well i know lino’s making him some stew but i’m sure he could use some medicine and maybe some tea and something for electrolytes.” he lists off. “okay i can do that, do you guys need anything for the dorm?” you ask, typing out your list.

“no i think we’re good, thank you y/n, i appreciate it.” he smiles. “no problem channie, i’ll be there in a bit.” taking the phone off speaker, placing it back to your ear. “sounds good, drive safe.” you say your goodbyes, hanging up the phone.

you quickly put on your jacket, pulling your backpack on, then your work bag and grabbing your keys, walking out the door. you had packed a bag, planning on spending a few days at the dorms taking care of felix.

you quickly make your way to your car after locking your door. you grab everything felix may need from the store, making your way to the dorms. the drive to the dorms was quick, pulling into the driveway, grabbing all of your bags. you use your hip to close your car door as your hands are full, before walking up to the dorm.

you use your foot to tap the door, hoping someone inside hears. the door opens revealing a hoodie clad chan, giving you his signature smile, “hey, y/n.” he greets you before grabbing the bags. “ hi.” you smile back, quickly turning back, locking your car before following him inside.

you make your way into the kitchen, finding lino finishing up his kimchi-jjigae while chan places the bags on the counter. “hi lino.” you smile, giving him a small wave. “hi y/n, here to take care of yongbokkie?” he asks, stirring the steaming stew. you nod, “i’ll be right back, i’m gonna go put my stuff down and check on him.

you make your way down the hall, before reaching his closed door. you gently knock on the door, just incase he was still sleeping. “come in” you hear the familiar aussie voice, his voice impossibly deeper. you open the door, finding the usually sunny boy, looking pale and dreary.

“hi bubba, how are you feeling?” you ask, quickly putting down your bags next to the door before making your way to the bed. you sit down on the bed, brushing his hair out of his face. he clears his throat, “i’m okay.’ his voice hoarse.

your hand resting on his warm cheek, thumb brushing soothing circles on his cheek. “what’s going on jagi?” you ask. “channie hyung thinks it’s a cold or flu, i have a fever, congested, i keep coughing and sneezing and my head feels like it’s a balloon.” he explains, before he turns his head away from you, letting out a sneeze.

you hand him a tissue from the box sitting on his bedside table. “bless you bubba.” he blows his nose, placing the tissue in the bag next to him. “thank you, angel.” he gives you a small smile. you look at the table, finding an empty water bottle, tissues, and some crackers.

“have you taken some medicine?” you ask, running your hand through his hair. “lino hyung gave me some aspirin for my fever but we didn’t have any cold medicine.” he sniffles, closing his eyes, nuzzling his head against your hand slightly.

“okay bub, i picked you up some, so i’m gonna go grab you some medicine and i think minho is done with the stew so i’m gonna grab you a bowl too, alright?” you ask, hand still running through his hair. “mhm, thank you.” he mumbles. 

you leaned over placing a soft kiss to his warm forehead before pulling his blanket over him. you get up, grabbing the empty water bottle and crackers before making your way out of the room. you softly close the door behind you, walking back to the kitchen.

you place the crackers on the counter before filling up his blue bottle with ice and water. you start to put everything away, keeping the medicine and gatorade in a bag before pulling away the crackers. “here you go.” lino says, placing a bowl of the hot stew, with a spoon and some napkins next to you.

“ thank you minho.” you smile, placing the water bottle in the bag as well. “of course, there’s extra on the stove if you want some.” he says pointing towards the pot on the stove

. your heart warms at the older boy's gesture. “oh, thank you, you didn't have to.”

he waves you off “it’s the least i could do for you helping yongbokkie.” he smiles before making his way to the living room to join chan on the couch. you smile to yourself before collecting your materials, making your way back to your sick boy.

you carefully make your way down the hallway, knocking on the door once more, signaling your arrival. you carefully open the door, finding felix fast asleep, soft snores leaving his mouth. you quietly make your way into the room, closing the door once again.

you make your way to the side of his bed, placing the stew on the bedside table, sitting next to him once again. you place a gentle hand on his cheek, softly rubbing, waking him up. “hi angel,” you smile down at him. “you can go back to sleep in a bit but i got soup, medicine and water.” he nods understanding as he stretches a bit.

“sit up for me a bit.” he leans forward, coughing a bit. you rub his back, before you place pillows behind him to prop him up. “okay, lay back down baby.” he lays back, clearing his throat a bit. “comfortable?” he nods, giving you a small smile.

“good.” you smile, placing a kiss to his forehead before grabbing the still warm stew. you stir it slightly before taking a spoonful, blowing on the steaming liquid, bringing the spoon and bowl to felix. he opens his mouth, taking in the warm liquid, you pull the spoon back.

“good?” you ask, gathering another serving for him. he swallows the delicious food. “very good angel, thank you.” you smile, bringing the spoon back to him. “don’t thank me, thank minho.” you take the spoon again, repeating the process.

“no seriously, you dropped everything to come take care of me. i really appreciate that baby.” he smiles, placing an hand on your thigh. you place the spoon back in the bowl, leaning over, careful of the bowl of soup. you place a kiss to his cheek, “i’m your partner, it’s literally my job, you don’t have to thank me lix.” his cheeks redden slightly, small smile spreading across his lips.

you grab the spoon, repeating the same process until the stew is all gone. you hand him the napkin, watching him wipe his face before holding out the bowl for him to place the dirty material in. you set the bowl down before grabbing the gatorade and medicine. you place the medicine in his hand before opening the gatorade bottle.

he places the pills in his mouth before grabbing the cold bottle you held out to him. he takes down a few gulps of the cold liquid, before he struggles to breathe thanks to his congestion. “bubba, slow down,” you place your hand on his thigh as he finally pulls away. “breathe please, it’s not going anywhere.” you rub his thigh lightly.

“sorry.” he coughs slightly, causing you to take the bottle, before rubbing his back. “okay bubba, let it out.” the coughs slowly die down, his breathing becoming heavy as he tries to catch his breath. “okay, let’s lay you back down baby.” he nods, you put the cap back on, placing it back on the table.

you move a few of pillows, allowing him to lay back down. he scoots a little closer to you before laying down fully. “comfy?” he nods smiling, eyes closing slightly. “i’ll be back, i’m just gonna bring the dishes back into the kitchen, okay?” you ask, moving his two drinks to the edge of the table for him to have easy access. “okay, you’ll come back and cuddle right?” he asks, his boba eyes staring into yours, pleading you. you giggle, nodding, “yes, bub, i’ll come back and cuddle.” he smiles, happy with your answer before he nuzzles back into the soft mattress.

you give his arm a squeeze before getting up and grabbing the bowl, making your way back to the hallway. as you step out you run into jeongin. “oh!” slightly startled. “hi innie.” you smile. “hi noona, how is felix hyung?” he asks, pointing to the door. “he’s okay, he just ate and took medicine so he’s gonna sleep for a bit.” small smile still present on your lips.

“good, thank you for taking care of him.” you nod your head, “of course, i’d do anything for him.” your cheeks warming slightly. he smiles, “he’d do the same for you, you know.��� you nod, cheeks becoming impossibly warmer. “i know, thank you innie.” he smiles, placing a hand on your shoulder before making his way to his room.

you make it back to the kitchen, quickly washing the bowl. “how’s lix doing?” an aussie voice behind you asks. you turn around, “he’s okay, he ate and i gave him some medicine so he’s gonna try to sleep now.” he nods, “thank you for taking care of him, we really appreciate it.”  you nod, smiling at the older man. “anytime channie, i’d do anything for him.”

he gives you a side hug, “we know.” he pulls away, making his way back to minho on the couch. you walk back to felix’s room for the final time, lightly knocking on the door. you enter, felix lifting his head, before settling back into his cocoon.

“y’know you don’t have to knock everytime, right?” he mumbles, face smooshed into his pillow. “i know but it’s your space, i don’t want to invade it.” you say, making your way to the other side of the bed. you get under the blankets, opening your arms to him. “you could never invade my space jagi, what’s mine is yours.”

he moves, melting into you, placing a kiss on top of your heart. “you realize you’re definitely getting sick right?” he asks, words slurred with sleep. you giggle, “yes lix i know,” you pause looking down at him, “but it’s worth it.” you lean down, placing a kiss to his sift hair.

“please make sure you take some vitamins.” he says, clearly fighting sleep. “i will angel, now go to sleep, you need rest,” you run fingers through his hair with one hand, rubbing his arm with the other. “mhm kay, lub you angel.” you smile, holding him close to you. “i love you too, lix.” placing one last kiss on his hair before he drifts off.

needless to say you definitely got sick a few days later, which resulted in a scolding from the sunshine boy himself. but he nursed you back to health, make sure you both were taking your vitamins to avoid getting sick again.

do not repost

[macfrog]

you'll hurt me if you don't trust me sex on fire chapter eight

super special sparkly shoutout to @chloeangelic ✨💛✨ whose influence inspired a whole load of intimacy in this. it is, unashamedly, eleven thousand words of sheer self-indulgence. so. love u guys. see u soon

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: you’re unwell. joel makes you feel better. until he doesn’t.

warnings: age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), workplace relationship, imbalanced power dynamic, cursing, sugardaddy!joel, softsoftsoft!joel, they eat chinese food together, reader has her period + mention/description of used tampon, discussion of abandonment/absent parents & parental death, discussion of cheating, lying, thigh riding, unprotected piv period shower sex (that is a mouthful thatswhatshesaid), VERY needy reader, SLIGHT dacryphilia (kinda not really?), creampie, aftercare joel, praise kink, daddy kink, angst & fluff & angst all over again

word count: 11k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 💚

Martha had been pretty good about it. She’d watched you near-doubled in pain most of yesterday, hobbling to the kitchen every four hours to top up on pain meds. She knew you weren’t making it up. She made a conservative two jokes about you calling in this morning, and then told you to rest up. She’d let Joel know you’d be back tomorrow.

“You owe me, though. Joel’s got that shareholders meeting today. If I’m forced to sit in with him ‘n his cronies talkin’ numbers and takin’ notes, sweetheart, all so you can catch up on The Bachelorette…”

Alright. Three jokes.

You hang up and slide the phone back across your nightstand; roll over and stuff a pillow between your thighs as if that’ll do anything against the dull throb gnawing at your belly. Your shades are tilted upward, shrinking your bedroom into a foggy gray save for the shards of light which split across the ceiling.

There’s a heavy ache tugging behind your eyes, an irritating weight which shoves you into the arms of sleep and then pulls you back by the hair before you’re taken off by it. You’re dozing, fingertips massaging your eyelids and stretching the skin back and forth when the doorbell slices the stillness of your apartment in two, shrill in your sleep-deprived ears.

You ignore it at first. Fuck that. Fuck whoever that is. You’re not planning on leaving your cocoon today unless it’s to go pee, grab a snack, or maybe if you lose the remote in your sheets.

But it rings out again. Twice, this time. And in a blur of hormonal rage, you whip the sheets back, throw yourself out of bed and stagger down the hallway. You straighten up only enough to peer through the peephole, your palms pressed to the back of the door, and that’s when you see him.

He’s cradling a brown bag in his left arm, a second dangling from his wrist. His head is huge in comparison to his body, owing to the distorted fisheye glass. He shifts from foot to foot impatiently, awkwardly glancing down the hall. You’d recognize that jawline fucking anywhere.

Your breath pushes nervously against the door. You click the lock and curl around the heavy wood, your fingers clamping on the edge.

The two of you eye one another up and down before Joel speaks.

“Hi, darlin’.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Martha said you were sick?”

You pause. Look down to the bunch of wild flowers sat in the crook of his elbow, and then back up to his face, painted with – what is it – concern? There are lines you rarely see when he’s looking at you, carved deep between his brows.

A fire strikes in your belly.

“…I’m fine. I’m – I’m all good. Just – feeling a little…”

“What is it? Is it the flu? I brought flu stuff.” He nods into the bag, and reaches inside for a box of cold tablets and a pack of tissues. He tosses them across the threshold and you catch them, holding them close against your shoulder.

You smile, trying to hold back on a laugh, but also because what the fuck? He’s so sweet. The flames lick at the bottom of your lungs.

“It’s not…it’s not the flu, no.”

Joel nods, looking back into the bag. “Good thing I also brought these, then.”

He tilts it forward and you unhook from the door, leaning over to peer in. A box of Tampax, two bottles of painkillers, green packets of face masks and floral sachets of herbal teas. You fish one out.

“Chamomile,” you muse, pouting.

He shrugs. “Lady at the store said it’s a good muscle relaxant, I don’t know.”

“Don’t you have a meeting today?”

“Cancelled it. You freaked me out.”

Your heart knocks on your chest wall. Did you fucking hear that? You freaked him out. You gulp in response. Swallow hard to shut it the hell up.

“So, Martha’s in the office by herself?”

“She’s a big girl. Told her she could leave early if she got my to-do list done. I give it until one,” he mutters, glancing down at his watch. “Oh,” he says then, spotting the brush of green and burst of purple in his arm, “got you these. I don’t know what you like yet, but…”

Yet. Yet yet yet.

You take the posy delicately between your fingers, as if it might fall apart at the mere touch of your hand. The brown paper crinkles as it lifts from Joel’s arm, and you tilt them in the hallway’s milky light.

The sprigs shoot in wild directions, tangling and twisting around one another. Daisies, lazy in their climb, swirling around the gentle brush of lavender, wrapped tightly to some other flower you don’t recognize. They’re tied together in a neat, white lace bow.

You imagine Joel stood in the middle of some fragrant florist, rotating on the spot. Dumbfounded before some assistant in a flowing skirt and tinkling bracelets sweeps over to him. I don’t know what she likes – yet, he tells them. And your heart screams into the pillow of muscle surrounding it.

“Thank you.” The smile on your lips threatens to break into a grin. At the same time, a shot of pain rips across your belly. “Come in,” you groan through a wince, taking his shirt in your fist and pulling him inside.

Your apartment is probably a couple years too small for you. You’ve accumulated so much in the time you’ve lived here that you could do with finding a bigger place – but you’re comfortable. It feels like home, when nowhere did for so long. It’s snug, and humble, and as you lead him down your hallway, you imagine you’re feeling how Joel probably did when he showed you around his childhood home.

Your cheeks flush with something a little blunter than embarrassment, but prickled with nerves. Your living room rolls its eyes inward, every object looking over in suspicion and wonder. Who the hell is this man, in your space, armed with toiletries and a ten-grand watch on his wrist?

You pause by the sink, filling a glass with water for the flowers. Your teeth bite down on your lip. There are dishes on the counter, there’s laundry piled on stools, blankets and cushions strewn messily across your couch. Joel shakes his head when you apologize, holds a palm up when you try to explain how you’d gotten home from work last night and gone straight to bed. I haven’t had the energy to clean.

He won’t hear it. Says he’s not here to see your clean apartment. Here to see you.

He sets the bags on the worktop and looks around the room. Blinks from the sheer curtains guarding the balcony doors, to the pastel candles on your coffee table. Smiles when he notices the Pretty Woman poster framed above the couch.

“What?” you ask, when his eyes finally land back on you. You tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling it further down your bare thighs.

“Nothin’. Just – knew there was somethin’ more to you.”

You fold your arms and rock forward gently on the balls of your feet. Your head tilts. Your brows knit.

Joel clarifies, “I knew you weren’t as put together as you pretend to be at work. This – looks like your place. That’s all.”

“Oh, yeah? ‘n what does my place look like?

His cheeks lift. “Little all over the place. Little surprising. But bright. Cozy. You.”

“Bright ‘n cozy,” you echo.

He nods. Purses his lips, then adds, “And great in bed.”

You cough a laugh, reach out to shove his arm, and he catches your hand. He reels you in against his body and cups your head, fixing some flyaway strands of hair. You stare up at him, eyelashes slowly blinking him in and out of focus. His mottled beard and hazel eyes. The flecks of honeydew and amber swimming around his pupil. His shirt wrinkles beneath your chin.

“You hungry?” he asks, voice rumbling through his chest. You seem to understand the vibrations sooner than the words, these days. He reaches for the handles of the white bag, sliding it over towards you. “I brought lunch.”

“You brought lunch.” You scoff, grinning to yourself. It quickly fades, though, when your hand lowers into the bag and meets a warm, flat surface – two halves of a folded lid. Your brows pull. “You brought…”

Joel smiles as you lift the box, popping it open. Hot steam escapes the minute the lid folds back.

“Chinese okay? I didn’t wanna ruin the surprise by callin’ to ask what you wanted. I can run out and grab somethin’ else if you’re not –”

“How did you know to get…?” Your voice whittles to nothing as you stare down at the fresh-cooked meal, the bed of greasy noodles mixed with fried vegetables. Your tongue swipes at the corners of your mouth.

“’cause I know you,” Joel says, digging for a second box from the bag. “Anytime you’re stressed with work, anytime I give you a hard day, that’s what you order in for lunch, right?” He nods to the container as he tosses an egg roll into his mouth.

You giggle, lifting the box to hide your swollen cheeks. Your heartbeat hammers below your jaw.

“Right?” Joel laughs. “Chow mein? I’m right, ain’t I? You know I’m right.”

He nudges against you, taking his own lunch from the bag, and casts a familiar glance – the same one you saw a few days ago in Lavender Oaks. Like the decades-old mask slips just for a second and suddenly, a younger, shyer Joel shines through. He’s almost imperceptible, almost concealed by the cocky smirk and witty remarks of his older self, but you’ve seen him once, and now – he’s impossible to lose sight of.

“You’re weird,” you note, spinning off towards your bedroom.

Joel’s hot at your heels. “I’m weird?”

“Uhuh. For noticing that.”

He snorts, and then you feel a slap to your ass cheek. “Nice underwear, by the way. Who’d you steal them from?” he murmurs close to your ear, averting your gaze when you turn back, beaming.

You pad across the soft rug to your bed, dropping down and pulling the sheets back to make room for Joel. He’s setting his food down. You think to offer him a change of clothes – something more comfortable than a dress shirt and suit trousers – but the best you’d have is an oversized tee, and not much else.

The thought almost dizzies you. Joel, in his boxers and a t-shirt from your wardrobe. A shirt that smells like you, feels like you, belongs to you. A piece of you, hung from his shoulders like it was always meant to be shared between you. The way it’d still smell of him even after the sun had set and he’d peeled it from his body, folded it into a pile at the end of your bed and left in his button up.

He sits on the edge of your mattress to kick his shoes off, and marvels some more at the room just like he did in the kitchen. The fire in your chest is slowly turning your lungs to ash, stealing breath each time his dimples appear – squinting at the framed photographs on your dresser, tilting his head to read the titles of the books on your shelves.

When he catches sight of the paint-splattered easel in the corner, he turns back. Your eyes are already locked back on your chow mein, refusing to meet his. He doesn’t say anything. Just shuffles up against the headboard, nudges your knee with his own.

“You get that at the concert?” he asks, eyes a little south of yours.

You glance down. You’re wearing an old Queen tour tee, graphic print accompanied by 1986 in multicolored lettering. A little before your grand entrance on the planet. A little after Joel’s.

“Rod’s Retro, eastside,” you reply. “You find some cool stuff in there, Mr. CEO.”

Joel’s chin lifts, considering. “Hm,” he says, “you gonna take me someday?”

You nod. Maybe a little too eagerly. It doesn’t feel like you ought to care. “Um, yes. You would fucking love it. Half my wardrobe is thrifted.”

He nods once – banking the information. “Every day, I learn somethin’ new.”

“Shut up,” you quip, kicking him gently. “How come I never get to learn anything new about you?”

He shrugs, chewing. “Self-absorbed.”

You kick him for real this time. He laughs into his takeout box.

“I’m messing with you. You know plenty about me. You met my mom the other day, for cryin’ out loud.”

“Not enough. Don’t know where you get all your clothes from, or what your comfort food is.”

He replies through a mouthful of chop suey. “Then, ask.”

Your voice is high, defensive. “No. That’s too easy.”

Joel snorts.

You reach for the remote and click the screen opposite to life. Joel lifts his arm to let you sink against his body, and you flick through the channels. Shark Tank, Grey’s Anatomy, Wendy fucking Williams, and then –

You gasp. Joel looks up from his food. His brows arch, eyes flitting from you to the screen. You swear a groan escapes from his lips. You feel the thunder against your ear.

“You ever seen it?”

“Dirty Dancing? Yeah, I’ve seen Dirty Dancing, pretty girl.”

“You probably saw it at the movies, right? When it came out? In the eighties?”

“Careful.”

You smile. “What did you think of it?”

Joel’s shoulders lift. His eyes are back on the screen. Be My Baby is crooning from the TV. “I liked Patrick Swayze,” he says.

You watch him, waiting for him to continue. When he doesn’t, you lean closer. “You…you liked Patrick Swayze?”

“Yeah,” Joel says, like it’s obvious. He turns back to you, one eyebrow raised. “He was cool. You don’t like ‘im in it?”

“No, I like Patrick Swayze,” you tell him. “Just…if that’s all you like about it, then…we might have a problem.”

He scoffs. “I don’t remember much of it, to tell you the truth.”

“Good. We’re watching it.”

Your head moves with his chest as he sucks in a deep, defeated breath. “Baby, I –”

“Ah,” you tap the remote on his knuckles, “you remember the Baby part.”

With a laugh which sounds an awful lot like approval and a grunt which sounds an awful lot like Alright, Joel sinks lower into the mattress. You drape your legs across his, and when he finishes eating, his fingers draw round shapes on your hot skin, daring past the hem of his own boxers on your thighs.

Somewhere around the lake scene, you notice your hand intertwined with his. Locked together, surfing over one another, squeezing and then loosening. Tracing the curve of each other’s palms and learning the lines scored into the skin. Fingertips becoming fluent in the landscape of one another’s bodies. Mapping them, like you’re afraid to forget.

Your eyes glass over, whether from fatigue, or from the now smoldering fire inside you, or from something harder to pinpoint. Your head feels heavy, leaning on Joel’s chest, listening to the drum of his heart against your ear. It sounds familiar, like you’ve known it forever. Like you can almost hear the whisperings between the soft thudding.

You start when you feel him moving beneath you. He groans, stretches his arms, and then snakes them around your body. The end credits are rolling. The movie’s over. You weren’t asleep, but you missed half of it. Your mind elsewhere – though you have no idea where.

Maybe you do. Maybe that’s not something you can bear – yet. Yet yet yet.

You crane your neck and look up to your boss. He’s already staring right back at you. His eyes widen.

“What did you think?” you ask sleepily.

He sniffs. “It’s good. Very politically charged. Lotsa Swayze.”

Your lips curve, cheek nuzzles into his shirt. “Very us, right?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah. Especially that part in the water. When he –” his arms lift, holding an invisible Baby up – “y’know? You ‘n me, we do that all the time.”

“I hate you.”

He tightens his grip around your shoulders and lifts you closer, smiling. You think, when his eyes dart for half a second to your lips, that he might kiss you. You think you want him to. But he simply asks, “You want some tea?” and reaches over to swipe the empty containers from your nightstand.

You nod. “I’ll come help.”

“I got it,” he assures in that Southern gentleman tone, steady hand on your thigh as he slips out of bed.

“You don’t even know where the mugs are.”

Joel considers this for all of five seconds. Shrugs. Tells you, “I’ll figure it out,” and disappears through to the kitchen.

You lay back and close your eyes, counting each cupboard door opening and then immediately falling shut as he makes his way around the place, seeking out your collection of mugs. When he eventually opens what must be the right one, you hear him exclaim.

“Ha! First try.”

You snort, bleary eyes opening again to focus on the TV. They’re discussing the Kardashians on The View. Your eyebrows lift in agreement as if you’re sat in the studio with them. They move on to some segment on the president.

Joel returns a few minutes later, two mugs in hand, and passes you the one shaped like a ghost.

“Cute,” you whisper, taking it in both hands.

He flashes you a proud grin as he lays back down, sipping on a black coffee in a faded mug your mom gave you years ago.

You tap your nail against the ceramic in his hands. “World’s Best Daughter.”

“That’s me,” he replies, propping himself up on an elbow. “Your mom get you it?”

Your head drops, eyes staring at him from under low brows. “No. My fucking neighbor did.”

He stares back as he lifts the mug to his lips. They melt in a kiss against the ceramic. When he pulls it away again, he swallows, and says, “You’re close to her.”

“My neighbor? Yeah, she lives right next door.”

“Easy, smartass.”

You flash him a smug grin, which dissolves as quickly as you notice his eyes lingering on the half-heart charm around your neck. By instinct, your fingers clutch the smooth gold, as if protecting the smallest part of yourself from him. The only part you’ve never let him in on.

But there’s something in his eye – something that feels less like a spotlight and more like a warm fire. Sharing secrets muted by the sputtering of wood, held safely by the round rusty glow of the flames. Something kinder. Something protective.

“Yeah,” you say, voice crackling, “we’re closer ‘n anyone. Been through a lot together.”

Joel nods. He knew that already. “I’ll bet, pretty girl.”

And in typical Joel fashion, he doesn’t press for any more than you willingly offer. A part of you kind of wants him to ask more, wants him to push you. A weight jumps at the bottom of your chest, like the words fail to launch. And before you can retry, before you can confess more of yourself into his hands, he says –

“Ask me som’.”

You stall, and look at him intently. “What?”

“Anything you want. Free pass.”

Your cheeks swell. “What do you mean?”

 “If we’re sharin’ things, ‘s only fair we both do.”

“I don’t – We don’t have to –”

“Ask me,” he says slowly, eyebrows twitching.

“O-kay…”

You push a deep breath from your lips, cheeks globing as you scan around the room for inspiration. Something casual enough that you can ask it with ease, but deep enough that he’ll give you an answer worth sinking your teeth into. Something you don’t know about him; light enough to roll off your tongue, and then heavy when it lands in your palms.

Your gaze orbits back to his patient form and you ask, “How did you get the money to start your company?”

Joel seems to feel the weight of it when he catches it. Heavy, rather than light. Deep, rather than casual. He opens his mouth, runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek before he answers. “My, uh…my dad. He had a little bit of money.”

“He invest in it?”

“No, no. He, uh…he left it when he died.”

Your lips pull in a wince. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, and Joel looks up.

“’s okay, baby,” he replies, with a soft chuckle that makes the loose collar of his shirt quiver. He pushes some hair out of your face, settles his hand on your knee.

You hook two fingers around his thumb. He squeezes lightly.

“He musta loved you a lot. Leavin’ you so much.”

Another deep breath. His body stiffens. You think to unlock your fingers and take his hand properly, comfort him, maybe – but he’s already lifting it, scratching his beard with his thumb. He watches a bubble swirl around in his mug until it disappears with a pop into the dark coffee, and he finally looks up.

“It’s kinda…complicated. He and my mom – they were married for years, ‘n he ended up…” Joel swallows. His jaw clenches. “He cheated on her. Had this mistress for months. Mom found out through a friend of hers. She kicked him out of the house, but they never divorced. Just stayed separated until he died, ‘n then he left all his money to her.”

“To your mom?”

Joel nods. “She didn’t want a penny of it. Hated the man ‘til the day he died ‘n beyond.”

And you believe it. Ruth Miller was kind, warm and charming to you. She laughed with you, she smiled like she’d known you her whole life, she held your hands and she whispered secrets about Joel in your ear – purposefully to embarrass him, to make that bashful side turn its head again.

But she was sharp. She was quick, and you knew within the first five minutes of meeting her exactly where Joel got his wit and his mind. You can see her, clear as day, guarding the front porch of that little white house – one hand on her hip and the other pointing in the direction her cheating husband was to head.

Just as clear, you can see her stood over that same husband’s grave, waving her fist and tearing his will into confetti. It brings something of a smile to your face. Sad, sympathetic, but…impressed.

“Wow…So she – she gave it to you? And you – put it into the company?”

He shrugs, grip tightening around the mug. “When I started makin’ money, I paid off the mortgage on her house, managed to convince her to retire early. Got her into a good retirement home, once she was ready for it.”

Smart guy.

A calm quiet falls between you. Joel turns to watch the commercials on TV. Your chest fills with a need to ask him something – a feeling all too familiar whenever you’re around him. Only him. A weight on your mind, a bubbling which starts in your stomach and rises up until it’s practically pushing the words out over your tongue.

“Your dad – how do you not hate him?”

He turns back. Your eyes are stinging. He notices. Holds his palm out, and your fingers instantly lace through his. Your nails find those same valleys, the grooves you’d traced while Swayze and Grey mamboed.

Joel stares up at you, face suddenly tight with worry. He knows there’s something loaded behind your question. Knows you’re asking for something more than another jigsaw piece of him. You’re doing it again. You’re freakin’ him out.

“I…” He falls quiet, looks between your eyes at the pearly tears which form in the corners, the way your face sets to stone. He glances down at your necklace again, and shakes his head softly. “I spent a long time hatin’ him, baby. Changed nothin’. He did what he did. He was a scumbag.”

The answer melts your angry frame, body folding and sinking further into your pillows. You tug the bedsheet a little closer to your chin, press your lips into the top of the ceramic ghost’s head.

Your voice sounds small, sounds like it doesn’t even come from your chest, when you say, “I think I hate my dad. For what he did.”

Joel finally relaxes. Like he’s finally seen the tiny creature casting the huge, stretched shadow on the wall. “You…Yeah?”

You nod. Stare at the cotton mountain of your legs entangled in his. “Yeah. He just up ‘n left, when things got boring. When I grew up, and my mom got older. Just packed his car, and…I always wonder –” a breath lurches from your chest, “– I always wonder why I wasn’t worth stickin’ around for. Why he just – decided one day to…”

Your voice fails to carry. Joel knows the end of the sentence, anyway.

You’ve never told anybody any of this. Not Blake, not your mom, not any of your friends; you barely even know in yourself how you feel about it – even twelve years later. But the air in the room feels different – feels thicker, like you’re tucked away from the world. The conversation won’t leave your apartment, you know that much. Know that Joel wouldn’t speak of it again, wouldn’t so much as let it cross his own mind, if you asked him not to. And so you let the words tumble from your tongue, let them sit heavy in the space between you.

The space between you, which is now silent, like you’re both preoccupied. Joel, taking in the weight of what you’ve said into strong, safe hands; and you, feeling that same weight lift off of your chest. Until the silence itself feels clunky, and awkward, and you scram to find something to break it up.

“Anyway. Sorry to be a bummer.”

“You ain’t a bummer. Are you kidding?” Joel sighs. “I’m sorry, babygirl. Sorry that happened to you.”

“’s okay. He was just a scumbag, right?”

“Sure sounds it.”

You take a small sip, the tea sugarcoating your lips and flooding over your tongue – the sweet taste ridding them of the bitter memory of your dad. “Your turn,” you hum.

Joel’s head jerks. “No, darlin’, you already told me somethin’. You go again.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“I’m changin’ the rules.”

You try to protest, manage the sound Jo– before his hand lifts and he shushes you.

“That’s what I was gonna ask, anyways. Was gonna ask about you ‘n your dad. Now, go.”

He’s lying. You know it, and you suspect he knows you know it, too. It’s a terrible attempt at a lie, no matter how kind it is. But you’re too tired, a little too in pain to argue back over it. And he’s looking at you again, with that honeycomb twinkle in his eye, that Joel look which stirs something in you every time he shows you it.

You sigh, accepting defeat, and rack your brain for something else you want him to talk about.

“Alright, uh…What about your brother? He didn’t want any of your dad’s money?”

Joel’s face twists into something of a grimace. You instantly regret bringing it up.

“Touchy subject?” you ask, already coming up with five new, two-dimensional questions to ask in place of that one. Who was your first kiss and what was your first car and when did you find your first gray hair and what’s your mom’s maiden name and –

But you don’t need them.

Joel says, “Not with you,” and tilts his head, like measuring up his answer. He takes his time letting it filter down to his lips, and you reckon you’ve a good idea of why.

He was closed-off about it in Paris. About his brother. Didn’t say more than three sentences about him. And that was only where a sheep farm was considered. What you’re asking about right now is a hell of a lot deeper and a hell of a lot more difficult than a ranch in the Texan countryside.

“He was always closer to Dad. They used to go out huntin’ every Sunday. Liked the same music, watched the same TV. They were buddies, more ‘n anything. When it turned out my dad had this whole other life behind our backs – behind Tommy’s back – he flipped. Couldn’t take it. He disappeared, never looked back. Just packed his car, moved across the country.”

He’s staring at the TV now, barely blinking. Barely breathing, until you speak and it’s like he remembers he’s in your apartment, on your bed, with you. Not back in time twenty years, watching the dust kick up from under his little brother’s tires.

“He must’ve been pretty mad.”

“Yeah. Tommy’s like that, he’s got a hot head on his shoulders. But it meant leavin’ Mom, y’know? She went through all of that without him. I had to pick up all these broken pieces, juggle all this stuff, ‘n he just got to walk away from it all. And then, when Dad died, he refused to come back still. Left me to organize everything – the money, the funeral. The whole damn thing.”

He flicks his head, resentfully, like trying to dislodge the memory from his mind. Trying to shake it free. When you speak, it seems to soften him. Seems to thaw whatever angry image was frozen behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “that part sucks. I bet it was hard goin’ through all that without him.”

Joel’s head angles towards you. “Not any harder ‘n it was on you, goin’ through what you did.”

“Well…I know I would’ve found it easier if I had a brother or sister. Someone like me, someone who gets it, y’know?”

“Hm. We weren’t all that close to begin with, I guess.”

“You were close enough to want to buy a ranch together.”

He shakes his head again, this time refusing to let the idea in. Turning it away at the door.

“You miss him?”

“It my turn to ask somethin’ yet?” he asks, smiling.

But you’re feeling braver now. He’s answered everything up until now; it feels less like a game and more like…more like he wants to talk about it. Like it’s been pent up all this time and this is the first anyone’s brought it up. A relief to get it off his chest, if nothing else.

You ignore him. Press him. “Do you?”

Joel sighs deep enough that his coffee ripples a little in his mug, and then nods. “Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like if we were on speaking terms, yeah.”

“So, call him. You have his number?”

“I ain’t gonna call him, baby.”

“Where’s he at?”

“Last I heard, ‘n it was a long time ago now – he was in Wyoming. Married, kid on the way.”

“Call him. You really gonna let that kid grow up without Uncle Joel around?”

“Uncle Joel,” he repeats, laughing now. “He does not want to hear from me, angel. Let it go.”

Joel turns the volume up and settles back into bed, pillows propped behind him. You pass him your empty mug and he slots it alongside his own. As the commercials end and Whoopi Goldberg flashes a grin into the camera, you give it one final shot.

“I’d give anything to have someone who knew and understood me as well as a brother might.”

His hand falls limp against your bedsheets, remote loose in his fingers. You lift his arm, nuzzling underneath it to lean your head by his heart, and he sighs.

Argument won.

“Too many big questions,” you mutter after a while, eyes clinging to the screen. “Ask me somethin’ stupid.”

“Somethin’ stupid,” Joel repeats, and you nod. “Alright. Who’d you lose your virginity to?”

You slap his chest. “Dirtbag!”

He chuckles. “Who was it? Blake?”

“No,” you reply.

“Damn. Who?”

You roll your eyes, though he can’t see you.

But suddenly you feel the loose spaghetti straps of a slip dress over your shoulders, see the off-white glow of three-year-old sneakers crossed at your ankles, chipped pink fingernails tracing the blurry pastel shapes on floral bedsheets. A dry throat, the sanitized backwash of vodka and coke splashing across your tongue. A smash from downstairs – someone’s broken the host’s mom’s best vase.

“Was just this guy I slept with at a house party,” you tell Joel, clearing your throat. “Lisa Tait’s sweet sixteenth. We were in her bedroom, all of us, ‘n everyone started heading downstairs, ‘til it was just me ‘n this dude Jack laying on her bed.”

“You had sex on some other girl’s bed?”

You nod, cringing a little. “I wasn’t even friends with her. Wasn’t even friends with him. Just thought, fuck it. I didn’t wanna go into senior year a virgin ‘n neither did he, I guess.”

“How’d it go?”

The messy, uncomfortable thrusts between your legs. The hand shooting down to guide himself back in. The wet lips running along the shell of your ear, the acidic breath on your cheek. Is that good for you? Yeah, it’s good for me. You sure? I’m sure. Just hurry up.

“Lasted, like, four minutes, thirty seconds.”

Joel’s body jerks. You know he’s staring at the crown of your head. “You timed him?”

“No. He lasted as long as Paradise by Coldplay. It was playin’ downstairs in the living room.”

He tips his head back and laughs to the ceiling. You giggle into his shirt.

“Poor guy,” Joel says, rubbing your shoulder.

“Poor me, more like.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, and pats your head. “Least you’re doin’ alright now.”

You push yourself up from his chest and glare at his satisfied smirk, dodging his thumb when it lifts to clip your chin. “Oh, you’re so smug about it.”

“Are you kidding? For lastin’ longer than five minutes? ‘course I am. Can make you come twice in that time.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. Runs the tip of his tongue along his top lip, corners of his mouth twitching. Something sparks to life inside you.

Your knee lifts, reaching over his waist and planting into the mattress on the opposite side. Joel’s hands come to rest on your thighs, fingers slipping up beneath the black cotton and edging against your hipbones. You bend over him, lips running a wet trail from the base of his neck to his earlobe. His breath falters.

“Prove it, daddy,” you whisper, and his grip tightens.

“Baby,” he warns, voice suddenly sharper. “We don’t have to –”

You ignore him, holding him down by the shoulders. “I want to.”

“I’m just sayin’,” his fingers wrap around your wrists, “’s not why I came here. We can just hang out.”

“We are hanging out,” you tell him. “This is what we do.”

And he seems to agree. Or, at least, accepts defeat, in the form of rolling his hips upwards. His fingers slip through yours, locking at your knuckles, anchoring you to him. You grind against his belt buckle, the hard metal flat against your clit. Joel clocks you instantly.

He sits up. Holds you by the ass on his body until your center is flush with his. You feel him stir beneath your open legs.

He shifts to the edge of the bed, keeping you chest to chest in his lap. Your teeth grit against one another. His lips are warm, they still taste like coffee. You lick at the corners.

“Wanna make yourself feel good on me?” he asks.

A smile as sweet as sugar and laced with something darker spreads across your lips. “You’re best at it, right?”

Joel hums. “Alright,” he says, impressed. His chin lifts; he breathes a laugh as you pepper his jaw with kisses. “Take what you need, angel. ‘s all yours.”

Your knees spread wider. You push down on his swollen crotch, voice catching as he meets you halfway, bucking up into you again. Your clit throbs at the contact, forcing you back up off him.

“D-addy,” you choke, hands suddenly gripping his shoulders.

Joel’s stronger. He takes your waist and replaces you on his lap. “Shh,” he whispers, breath hot against your ear, “’s okay, baby. I got you. We’re gonna make you feel good together, alright? Here.”

He slides you over until your legs are either side of one of his, his thick thigh flat against your most sensitive spot. You dig your nails into his forearms, squeezing hard, but he doesn’t budge. Just looks up at you, holding you steady, and says –

“Go on. Ride it, babygirl.”

You move an inch. The rough fabric catches on the soft of Joel’s underwear. You gasp, relief mixing with arousal and spilling warm and soothing between your legs.

Joel squeezes your hips. “Do it, darlin’. Make yourself feel good. ‘m here, I’ll watch.”

The fabric beneath your pussy is soaked, probably dampening a mark into his pants – and you don’t fucking care. It feels good – the steady weight of him, lifting his thigh as you drag yourself along it, beginning to rock back and forth.

Your eyes are closed, head to the ceiling, grinding your core against his. You can feel him staring. Watching you, his gaze red hot on your already fevered skin. You collapse into him over and over, his body solid as a rock, letting yours fold against him. Liquid in pleasure and feeling.

Your eyes open a sliver and you smile, taking your bottom lip between your teeth.

Joel smirks. “You know how fucking perfect you look right now?”

You nod, forehead coming to lean heavily on his.

He bucks his leg, jaw tight. “How – fucking – beautiful you are? Making yourself come on daddy’s thigh?”

You inhale the words as he speaks them, swallowing them in gasps and parting your lips complacently for more. Keep going. Keep telling me –

“–you my good girl?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, legs starting to give.

“Gonna get me covered in you? Gonna come all fuckin’ over me, babygirl?”

“Daddy, I want –”

“Tell me,” he demands, “tell me what you want.”

His hands are clamped on your waist, guiding you – driving you, more than your weak hips are able to – holding you to him almost painfully. Your body circles messily, becoming sloppier the closer your orgasm draws, quivering when the feeling runs a delicate hand through your hair and plants wet kisses along your neck.

“Want you to fuck me, daddy,” you whine, body rocking again. Your hand lowers to cup the outline of him, rock-hard and restrained beneath linen. He shudders when you squeeze him – looks down to your small hand on the huge bulge in his trousers. “Need to feel you inside me.”

Your own eyes are stuck on the place where your bodies connect, writhing against one another – the wet seam of Joel’s underwear, the folds of his pant leg as you rut against him. Your empty cunt tightens, aching for more against his firm thigh.

“’m gonna, pretty girl,” he says, groaning as you palm him. “‘m gonna fuck you so good. Just give me one first, alright? Let me see you come for me.”

Your body jolts as you come. Hips lose their rhythm; arms lock tight around Joel’s shoulders. And all the while, his lips stay pressed against your ear.

“Look so good, baby,” he coos. “That feel good, angel? Yeah?”

As quickly as your orgasm sent you under, you’re pulling back. You haven’t even regained feeling between your legs, but you’re pushing yourself from his lap, separating your bodies.

Joel sits back, body lightweight when you tug on his wrists and drag him up to height in front of you. You’re backing up across the plush rug, his chest bumping against yours, your fingers fumbling for the buttons of his shirt. Your back hits the bathroom door. Joel twists the handle.

You spill onto the cold tile, attached at the mouth, frantically tearing clothes from each other’s bodies. It’s desperate. It’s burning. It’s almost fucking painful, how bad you need him.

His hands run from your cheeks to the hem of your shirt, hauling it over your torso and tossing it to the counter. You peel the shirt from his shoulders and your bare chest meets his, his hands finding your hips again when he whips them from his sleeves. The white shirt drops to your damp floor, dark, wet marks spreading across the dress fabric.

“Shoot,” you mumble against his lips. “My – bad. Sorry.”

“Don’t – care,” Joel breathes, and his thumbs push beneath his waistband.

You spin on your heel, backing towards the shower and taking him by the jaw with you. He shoves the clothing down his legs, stepping out of them and catching you again in time to drag the underwear from your thighs.

You shift into the shower, both fully naked. Joel spins the nozzle and the warm water rains down between you. His chest quickly soaks, dark hair thicker and blacker, flat against his glistening skin. He tilts his head under the spray and soaks his hair – gives one heavy flick of the head like a wet dog, and you laugh as he pulls you in again.

His hands cup your face as he connects your lips, and then his right drifts down your neck and pushes your tit up, squeezing the sensitive skin in his palm and rolling your firm nipple between two fingers. He lets it drop, runs his hand delicately down your frame, following the curve of your waist to your hips. He cups between your legs.

You come up for air, a sudden realization over your head as though the water runs freezing cold. “Wait,” you start, “I gotta –”

But he’s rubbing gentle circles against your clit, slow, pacing you as the tide of your first orgasm disappears to sea. He doesn’t seem to know, yet – or if he does, he doesn’t give a fuck.

“Joel –”

“I know,” he says, voice low and busy, but still – assuring. Unbothered. He moves his hand lower, surfing along your slit, until his fingers brush the wet string.

Your breathing jumps. He taps the seam of your thigh twice, and your leg tilts aside. Your eyes flit back up, crossing over his chest to fix on his jaw. You feel a flushing heat cross your cheeks, a moment’s hesitation before your fingers clamp around his wrist.

“Hey,” he whispers, and you almost don’t hear him over the running of the shower. He keeps his left hand on your jaw, his right between your legs. He shakes his head once, and takes the string in two fingers, and –

Gently pulls. Only a fraction, and then he pauses. Looks back up at you, a question in his stare.

You nod, exhaling heavily. He pulls again, and he doesn’t stop.

The tampon falls wet and heavy into his palm. His hand leaves your cheek and settles around your waist, leaning both of you out of the shower while he reaches for some toilet paper. Once it’s wrapped in a roll of white tissue and sat on your sink, he moves back into the cubicle.

He runs his palm under the flow; splashes of red swept up, watered down, and carried to the drain along with every last whispering of worry on your lips. Your elbows bend around his neck and he dips his head to kiss you, pushing you carefully into the corner.

“You tell me –” he kisses you, “– if it hurts or it gets too much, you tell me.” His body stands huge, blocking yours from the stream of water. Your back bumps against the shower wall; the shock of the cold tile pushes you closer to Joel.

“Just – fuck me.”

But he’s adamant. “You tell me.”

“I’ll tell you. You’ll know.”

“This is about you feelin’ good.”

“I’ll tell you,” you whine.

“We’re gonna have a word,” Joel instructs, lining up between your legs. He lifts your thigh to sit on his hip. “’n if you say it, I stop. Alright?”

You nod, fervently. “Please –”

His fingers separate your lips; his tip nudges your entrance. “Maple, alright? It gets too much, you say maple. You do that?”

“Joel, if you don’t –”

“Baby.”

“Maple,” you agree, “I’ll say it. Just –”

He pushes in without another word.

How many times has it been, by now? Ten? More than that? Enough for you to know in your mind, if not from trying to learn then simply from muscle memory, exactly how he feels. The curve of his cock, the width of the tip, the length of him as he slots deep inside you.

And yet – every fucking time – you feel so full. Full of him in every sense – your cunt, swollen around him, your lungs, breathing his scent, your every thought and feeling and sense replaced by Joel. Joel Joel Joel Joel –

He’s suffocating. And if you died right now – if you were smothered by him, swaddled until you couldn’t feel anything anymore – you’re not sure you’d be able to tell. Not sure you’d care enough to notice.

He pushes in slow, but deep. So fucking deep. Lets your walls expand around him the first few thrusts, lets your body welcome him back in. His lips press against your temple, his arms cradle your lower back. Your weight bears down on his shoulders and he lifts you, your other leg sitting on his waist. He holds your ass in both hands, begins to bounce you steadily.

“So good, baby,” he says. “Doin’ so good for me. You’re daddy’s girl, ain’t you?”

Your answer leaves your lips in the form of a moan. Something shaped like his name, or maybe some attempt at a response to his question, or maybe something more dangerous.

“My girl,” he repeats, whatever it was you said. “Daddy’s girl.”

Your head rolls back, cushioned by Joel’s hand between you and the tile wall. He knots his fingers in your hair, snaps his hips quick and hard, panting into your shoulder. And there’s a feeling – a stinging, a burning, sweeping across your eyes, and for a second you think it feels like shampoo, like the sharp scratch of soap between your lashes, until you realize it’s –

Tears. The heavy cut of tears, brimming your eyes. Blurring your vision. And with every thrust, every blissful meeting of Joel’s cock and your cervix, every inch he spreads you open wide – they form quicker, and quicker, and quicker. Until they spill down onto your cheeks, and you can’t tell the difference between them and the spray of the shower.

But Joel can. His head lifts from the crook of your neck, his teeth dragging from your skin. He spots your eyelashes, silky and wet, and in one motion, wraps his arm around your head, holds you with the inside of his elbow.

He dips his jaw, presses his lips featherlight to your cheeks, kisses the tears away as quickly as they roll down.

“I –” gasp, “– don’t know –” gasp, “– why I’m –”

Joel’s head shakes as he pulls away. Shuts you up. His answer is simple. You believe it instantly.

“’s okay. You’re okay.”

And right then – you think you understand.

Because you can see him – plain as day. You can see the amounts he cares for you, the limitless needs he can meet for you. There’s a warmth within you, spread throughout your body for him, and you have no fucking idea how to let him feel it. How to have it seep through your skin – so that every time his fingers ghost over your body, he’s met with a blaze strong enough to burn. A fire, big enough and bright enough that it shows him exactly how you feel.

Only him. No one else. A flame only he can see, dancing across your eyes when you look at him. A heat only he can feel. How do you make him feel it? How do you tell him? What combination of words might translate it?

It’s like slamming your fists against a glass barrier. A transparent wall, that allows you only to see him and draw near to him – never to feel him. Not really.

And so, you cry. You cry for him, for yourself. And Joel lets you.

For a little while.

His lips are back on your neck, biting marks into the soaking skin. “’attagirl,” he hums. It rattles your pulse, disturbs the rhythm and sends his own beating through your veins. “So good, baby.”

They soothe you – his lips, and the words which come from them. Soothe the sweet pain between your legs, the swollen ache every time Joel pushes into you. The stretch, the bruising tinge when his tip finds home in the deepest part of your body. Somewhere no one has ever reached, no one has ever found. No one, you feel, has ever been worthy enough to know.

Until him. Until Joel.

That same rhythm – your pulse on his wavelength – begins to flee south. Loops and swirls and dives to where his body connects with yours. Tightens rapidly around your cunt. Your hips grind against his, your thighs clamp on his waist. He starts to falter, hips slipping whether from blood or come or water. And then he’s growling, face burying into your chest as he steadies the two of you with an abrupt palm on the wall, and he stills.

The feeling of his release tips you over. The warmth spreading inside, so far you feel him in your stomach. Your walls contract around him, squeezing until every last drop of him is buried somewhere in you, and you lower one foot to the shower floor.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he pants, pulling his lips from your collarbone. “You okay?”

You nod, head rolling against the wall behind. You’re not crying anymore. The shower whirrs somewhere over Joel’s shoulder. Your chest feels tight. And you feel fucking euphoric.

He gives three more lazy, broken thrusts, pushing his come deeper inside. You both still, mouths curved open, exchanging breath and letting your tongues flick idly against one another.

You hold onto him long after your orgasm is shallow ripples between your legs. Long after the feeling has washed back into the ocean, your high a glimmer of sunlight bursting over the distant horizon, the aftereffects painting your world golden.

You hold onto him, and you let him run his hands slowly up and down your spine, and you sift your weak fingers through his dark hair, and you let him kiss your neck and your shoulders and your collarbones. He leans back; the flow of water cascades between you, carrying away any mess left on your bodies.

And then you let him carry you out of the shower, his tip still inside you, slowly softening. He settles you carefully against your counter, and reaches over for two white towels, caping one around your shoulders and using it to draw your body against his own.

You take the corners from his fingers and he lifts your chin, pushing your lips apart with his tongue. Then he pulls away, allows you to wrap the terry around yourself.

Joel wraps his own towel around his waist, slung loose enough that you can trace the dark hair peppered from his belly button down between his hips.

“You know how inappropriate it is to look at your boss like that?” he tuts.

You hook an arm around his neck and pull him back in. “Then stop lookin’ at me the way you do,” you tease, and he kisses your cheek.

He disappears through to your kitchen, reappears moments later with the box of Tampax, and you don’t even think to laugh or tell him you’ve an open box sat in the cupboard you’re leaning against. You just smile, and accept the clean tampon he holds out in his fingers. He leaves you to get dressed with the door closed over.

He’s sat on your bed when you emerge from the bathroom, holding his soaking shirt between two fingers. “Sorry about, uh…”

“’s alright,” he shrugs, standing up, “I’ll take it from your paycheck.”

His knuckles pinch your nose. You free yourself to place a chaste kiss on his fingers, and pass him the crinkled mess.

“I have something that’ll fit you somewhere,” you mutter, slipping past him as he hangs the shirt by the collar over your door.

“Do me a favor,” Joel’s voice follows, and he takes your wrist. You turn back to face him. “Catch your breath.”

“Huh?” you ask, and his hand comes up to mold around your cheek, the way it always fucking does. As if your bodies were made to be held by one another.

“Just – take a breath. You’re doin’ it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Movin’ at a hundred miles an hour. Breathe for me.”

You scoff, loosening yourself from his grasp to go sift through your wardrobe for something big enough for him. You settle for a Jurassic Park tee – logo faded and cracked, hem a little ragged.

“Rod’s?” he asks, holding the shirt up.

You’re already collapsing onto the mattress. “You bet.”

Joel smirks and tugs it over his head, throwing himself down against the headboard. Your hand wraps around his thigh, lips press soft kisses on the skin. He runs his hand over your hair.

“Are you gonna take a sick day off me for this?” you ask.

He shakes his head simply. “Doctor’s orders. Can’t say nothin’ to that.”

“I didn’t go to the doc–”

His thumb presses against your lips. “You don’t know when to fuckin’ lie, do you?” he whispers. “’s alright, we’ll getcha trained up.”

You snort, shaking yourself free of his hand. Your head settles by his hip, nails draw aimless patterns along the curve of his stomach.

“Need you better by Sunday, anyway,” Joel sighs, “Martha’s son’s birthday party.”

You grunt in response. You forgot about that.

Joel tuts. “Still gotta find him a present. How in the hell do I know what to buy a twelve-year-old?”

Your hand pauses. Neck cranes up to look at him. He’s staring down at you, his trademark glower still recognizable even upside down. Somehow, not sat upright in front of him, the thought seems less scary. Less of a commitment, more a casual suggestion.

“Why don’t we just get ‘im a joint one?”

The hard expression immediately wipes from his face. Replaced by something rounder. He blinks at you. “Really? From – you ‘n me?”

You shrug against his waist. It’s not answer enough for him.

“As in, you n’ me?” he asks.

“Why not?”

Joel’s head shakes. His mouth curves as he considers the thought. But he can’t mask the pang it sends through his body; can’t pretend he’s not covering the way his veins light and his nerves stand to attention by taking your hand in his and squeezing it briskly.

It doesn’t have to mean something. You, Joel, and Deb are the only people from work that Martha invited, and Deb’s bringing her two sons, which means her gift will be from them, too. All it has to mean is that you’re Martha’s co-workers, and figured it’d be cheaper and easier to get one gift over two.

Except – one of you is a millionaire.

It means something. The fact you asked. You’re not asking to save a buck, to make it simpler. You’re asking because you want to wrap some video game in paper Joel picked out; you want him to hold the folds down with one finger while you tear tape with your teeth. You want to sign the card with both of your names, in your handwriting. See how they look paired up.

You ask him because you want to feel the way you think you ought to have felt this entire time. Your body is ablaze. You’re ready to let him feel it. And you ‘n me seems like a pretty good combination of words to start with.

You’re ready. And that’s why you ask him.

Joel’s quiet for as long as you are. You both go to talk at the same time, both noticing how silent the room has fallen while you realize all of those things in real time.

“Sorry, baby, you go,” Joel says, sniffing.

“No, I was just – no, you go. What were you gonna say?”

He smiles. “Was just – wonderin’ what you wanted to get Alan.”

Your mouth opens to answer, and then you pause. “Al–? What?”

“What you wanted to get ‘im,” Joel repeats.

You push yourself up, lean on one hip in front of him. “Yeah, I heard that part. What did you call him?”

“Alan?”

You stare at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Joel stares right back. “Martha’s son.”

“Martha’s son’s name is Henry.”

“No, it fuckin’ ain’t.”

You’re biting back a laugh. “Yes, it fuckin’ is.”

“She calls him Little Al. All the damn time, baby, he’s –”

“That’s because he acts like Alan. Her husband. His father. All the damn time. You gotta be messing with me. Have you been calling him Alan the entire time he’s been alive?”

“No.”

His expression tells you yes.

You’re laughing now. Really laughing. It breaks your words in two, your head tilting back to the ceiling. “You…idiot.”

Joel’s struggling to compose himself, sliding off the bed. “The email she sent out says Alan’s Twelfth Birthday. The hell’s my phone?”

“You think she had a kid in two thousand eleven, and named it Alan? You don’t think they’d call Child Protection on her for that?”

He points a finger, tossing pillows to the bottom of your bed. “That’s disrespectful to the Alans of the world. Where the fuck is my –?”

Your chest swells in a giggle, eyes start to sting with tears. “What do you write in her Christmas cards? To Martha, Alan, and Alan?”

You slap the bed, leaning forward with a deep gasp, trying to catch your fucking breath. Joel’s still stripping the bed, still keeping his own laughter deep in his chest, but it’s quickly crumbling.

“Her email –” he chuckles, “– says Alan’s Twel–”

“She’s fucking with you!” you holler, catching the pillows he throws to you. “She’s fucking with – I’m gonna piss my pants. Martha, Alan, and Alan, oh my fucking –”

“Here,” he finally throws you the phone, “go find it. Find the email. Search the damn word Alan; she uses it every time she talks about him. Jesus Christ, I need a coffee. You want another chamomile tea, Little Miss Smartass?”

He lifts your mug and tilts it in your direction. You nod as you reach for the phone, wiping tears from your cheeks. Joel disappears through to the kitchen.

He clued you in on his passcode a few months after you started. You were still in the office past five o’clock, looking out files he needed for some client visit the following morning. His phone had buzzed, you were nearest it. He lifted his head and nodded to the lit screen.

1-6-9-1, he told you.

It finally made sense only a few days ago, after three years of wondering. Three years of knowing and never asking; a mystery solved. 1691 Maple.

His background was always one of the standard ones. The boring ones. A soft, blue gradient. Usually, his lock screen was too populated by notifications for you to even notice.

But now – it’s changed.

Now, it’s a photo of the view from the terrace in Paris. The pale sunset, faded blue into sweet yellow. The Eiffel Tower carved out in the center. You suck in a deep breath as you swipe texts and emails away to properly study it, figure out exactly where he was standing to take it, and exactly where you might’ve been when he did.

You tap in the four digits and his home screen lays out before you. Only, the background is different – again.

It’s Paris, still, but indoors. Dark wall, an ornate frame pinned to it, housing an amused smirk and soft hands. She’s looking off into the distance, past the photographer. Or maybe – she’s looking at you.

You, stood leaning on the barrier in front of her. The Mona Lisa. Your head tilted towards her, beaming like it’s a photo with your favorite celebrity.

It’s not a big deal. That’s what you tell yourself. It’s his home screen. Only visible if you know his password – and you’re fairly sure that you’re the only one who does. Not even Martha would know that this photo exists, never mind the fact that it’s his wallpaper. It’s not a big fucking deal.

No matter how much you think you want it to be.

You swiftly tap on the email app icon, trying to rid your mind of your own cheesing image. He has thirteen unread emails, all from the last hour. Some you know he’ll forward straight to you and Martha; others look a little more serious. As you’re scrolling down them, you notice a familiar face.

Denis Pelletier. His square-jawed grin flashes back at you from the tiny circle icon beside his name. You tap on the email, and your cheeks lift higher the further down it you read.

I hope your flight home was pleasant, and It was wonderful to take you both around Paris, and Your assistant was very sweet. You breathe a laugh, scrolling down the three-paragraph message urging Joel that if he’s ever back in Paris – if you’re ever back in Paris, both of you – to make sure you let the chauffeur know.

But there’s no email from Martha. At least, none in Joel’s inbox. You return out of the folder and wheel down to his Deleted folder, scrolling past password reset emails, panicked cries for help from Mackley and Tom, past order confirmations for brands you’ve never heard of, when –

A head of hair, more salt than pepper. A bright, unnerving smile, too many dazzling teeth in a mouth too small to house them. A pink sky behind him; candy floss clouds and townhouses glowing orange in the sunset – the building blocks of the Paris skyline.

Jean-Marc. An email – a deleted email – from Jean-Marc.

Dear Joel, It was such a pl… is all you can read from the preview. Your eyes flit up to your door. Joel’s still in the kitchen, humming. You glance back down to his phone.

Would it be invading his privacy? It’s only an email from Jean-Marc. It’s not like you don’t know who he is. What if your thumb slipped? Accidentally opened it? What if your eyes scanned over the text before you quickly swiped back out of the email?

There’s the sound of a drawer rolling closed. A spoon rattling against ceramic. He’s stirring your tea.

You click on the email.

It was such a pleasure to see you again.

You scan over the first paragraph. It’s just Jean-Marc cozying up to Joel. Your nose wrinkles and your lips turn.

I loved meeting your assistant, the next paragraph begins. And your focus is pulled.

I wonder if you had given our conversation any more thought? Whether she might be looking for a new challenge? Something this side of the Atlantic, perhaps?

Your heart skips a beat. A new challenge.

“You want the last egg roll?” Joel calls from the kitchen.

You jolt back to life. “N-no, you have it,” you reply. You hear the rustle of the bag.

I wonder if you might relay the message onto her, Jean-Marc continues. Please give her my email address and phone number.

You quickly pull the screen up, noting the date the message was sent. Three days after you got home from Paris. More than a week ago. You tap on Joel’s response as his footsteps creak back towards your bedroom.

His reply is as short and sweet as the few words he spoke to the Frenchman that Sunday morning.

I’ll pass on your details, he’s written, but unfortunately, my assistant is currently unavailable. Maybe sometime in the future.

Your jaw jerks. Eyes trace the words, over and over. Thumb scrolls up and down the email, making sure you’re reading it right. Joel, making promises he never followed through. Joel – your Joel, the one you pestered for fucking days after Paris over what he’d talked with Jean-Marc about – one hand laced through yours, the other with a vice grip around a secret he never intended to clue you in on.

You. He’d talked about you. They’d probably talked about you the entire fucking meeting, as soon as Joel mentioned you. You can see Jean-Marc’s ears twig; his eyebrows lift with interest. The way he sets his wine glass down, offers Joel another whiskey and invites him to say more.

Joel. Lying. And covering up. And keeping you close by his hip, walking in stride with him out of that fucking penthouse – like you’re on some kind of leash, or something.

The fabric of his underwear on your hips feels claustrophobic; a second layer of skin that rubs against yours like sandpaper. You want to rip them off off off – want to separate yourself from him, peel him from your body and forget the feeling of him as quickly as you seemed to absorb it. Instinct tells you to detach yourself – to remove any trace of him ever having laid eyes on you, never mind touched you.

What a fucking idiot, you think. He doesn’t fucking care about you after all.

You don’t even notice when his form saunters back into the room, when he shoves the door closed with his elbow. There’s a bitter taste on your tongue, sour with disappointment. Acrid with anger. Sick with fear.

Unavail–?

“You find it?” he asks, and you subconsciously clutch the phone to your chest.

“Not yet,” you murmur, watching as he sets the mug back on your nightstand.

His fingers slip through the handle, knuckle nudges the temple of the ghost a little further along the surface, and he straightens, lifting his own mug to his lips.

“’s in there,” he says against the ceramic. He holds a hand out, curls his fingers. “Let’s see.”

“Never mind,” you say, tapping out of the email, out of the folder, out of the app. “I believe you.”

And then –

“…You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

He licks his lips. Holds the mug by his side, fingers gripping the lip. He gives a non-committal shrug of the shoulders.

“No, darlin’. Why would I lie to you?”

[badomensgoodomens]

requesting noah x reader

noah is finally home from tour and the two of you just spend the day cuddling, watching movies and eating snacks

omg omg yes let me cook xoxo

wrote at 10pm on a sunday cut me some slack

__________________________

noah had surprised you in the middle of the night, sleepily climbing into bed. You screamed, ofcourse. A 6'3 muscle man standing at the foot of your bed. terrifying. after you fumbled for the lamp switch, he apologised profusely, soft kisses peppered on your face.

"I said i was sorry" he whines as you groan. you hit his shoulder playfully. "That was NOT funny."

___________

The next morning, you wake before him. The sunlight creeps in, illuminating the soft freckles spread across his skin. you admired the soft pout of his lips, his funky eyebrows, his jaw that is ALWAYS clenched, finally resting.

he cracks a singular eye open, "its rude to stare." you just snicker, tracing the slope of his nose and his jaw. he turns on his side, pulling your warm, soft body towards him. "goodmorning to you too." you say, running your fingers through his hair. you reminisce on the longer version of his hair, you were truly devastated when he cut it. You lay in silence, just cuddling. But it's a good silence, a taking in eachothers presence silence. the room was silent yet the love for eachother was so, so so loud.

noah was once again fast asleep, poor love must be so exhausted from tour. you manage to slip away from him, prepping for a movie marathon. knowing your luck, he'll chose a horror movie and you won't be able to sleep for weeks. (I think he just likes comforting you afterwards. Sick bastard.)

after fixing a small charcuterie(?) Board, and some popcorn, you gently move to his bedside. You comb your fingers through his hair, his brows furrowed ever so slightly.

"Noah.. " you whisper.

He grumbles, pulling the blanket tighter around him.

"Come and watch a movie with me" you whine, annoyed at his sleepiness. He rubs his face, standing up with a sigh. He drags the blanket through the house. You trail behind him, only making a pitstop to yell at folio who had been picking at the food. one by one the boys filter in uninvited. just the nature of living with a bunch of boys. A random horror film plays on the large screen tv. But you're not watching. You're too busy admiring your man.

how long his lashes are, the slight stubble that's growing back, his freckles. God they were your favourite thing about him. He glances down at you, feeling your gaze. you clamber into his lap, back pressed against his chest. He presses a soft kiss on the back of your head, his warm hands splayed out on your tummy. you rest your hands on top of his, leaning back to look up at him. You press small kisses to his jaw.

after a while you fall asleep, sleep coming easier to you when your lover returns. it's his turn to admire you, tracing the shape of your lips, and your rosy cheeks, your soft dimples and petulant pout. its overwhelming. His love for you making him feel dizzy. he thinks about the future. His plan to marry you somewhere with flowers and a nice lake. how you would look in a wedding dress. And how you would look after...

he guides his fingers through your hair, gently ghosting over your scalp. Your hand tightens on his, seeking comfort.

you wake up a few hours later, noah long gone by now. I'm talking head conked back, mouth open, snoring. you giggle to yourself. You notice the others had left by now. Probably returning to slumber.

"Noah.." you poke him, he stirs slightly.

"nowahh" you grumble out.

he stirs, "yep I'm awake what's wrong?" his words are rushed, a testament to how tired he actually is. "cmon, into bed. I'll bring the snacks." he stands up, stretching his long limbs. He patters down the hallway, losing his tshirt along the way. you pack up the dips and cheeses, before finding your way back to your lover. He's already sprawled out on the bed, waiting. "I've missed this." He mumbles. Face down.

"Me? Or the bed."

"the bed."

You throw a pillow at him, he laughs. Pulling you impossibly close.

_______________________

The clock reads 4am and you PRY yourself out of his grip, you roll over, body spread over the open space of the bed. Sweat trickles down your back. Oh how noah hadn't missed this. "babe... go put the cooler on.." he grumbles.

"I'm not going in the dark!!" You whisper-shout

He just grumbles in return. He cracks open a window instead.

he pulls you back into his grip. Pressing sleepy kisses all over your face. you groan against his warm, ink covered skin. his breathing evens out and his face falls flat as he falls asleep again. You huff, sweating your tits off. You peel each layer of clothing off, laying in a bra and underwear. the sheets abandoned at the end of the bed. You were STILL sweaty AF but this man won't leave you alone. Especially after being gone for so long!!!

___________

He wakes up before you, the sight of you in your undergarments dizzying. He rests his head in the crook of your shoulder. Taking in the smell of your moisturiser, and shower gel.

"Mm morning baby" you yawn. light filters into the room, illuminating the lack of nothing between the two.

"never leaving for tour again if this is how I wake up every morning" he grunts, hands snaking around your waist.

"even in winter?"

"just means I get to warm you up."

You throw your head back in laughter as he begins to tickle you relentlessly.

______________________

I know I said I'd cook but lowkey look undercooked 😔

ik ik it's excuse after excuse but after I posted that my requests were open I got hit with the most diabolical family problems and have been putting off writing for a further week. but! I'm slowly easing back into it with the simplest request I could find.

so sorry if this is short, please leave more requests they are great motivation!!!

[lefarte]

Hallo, may I make a soft Levi funger x reader request? 💜

So polite heheh yes of course. My first request, is it cause he’s my profile picture 👀 ? You didn’t specify if you wanted headcanons or more of a ficlet (is that a word?) so I just sort of did my best I hope this is decent 🩷

Under the cut ^_^ no content warnings, just fluff, gender neutral reader

When Levi got clingy (which is often) it rarely manifested through physical touch. He’s hardly willing to do any more than tug on your sleeve to get your attention, and even this is a very small action that you could easily miss. More than anything, he liked to watch and guard you. Even if you kept telling him it wasn’t necessary, you always found him awake at the small hours of the morning over your bed.

“…I… I was awake anyway, so…”

He muttered something like that and then turn away. What would he do if not watch over you? Oil his gun? Count the windows in the building, count the entrance and exit points, think about his life up until this point? Since the war, even his mind became something of a problem. Always rearing its head at inopportune moments.

When he looked at you and the way your hair is fussed up first thing in the morning, he could almost imagine… domesticity. Something like this; he wakes up, and your hands are entangled from the night before, and you yawn and rub your eyes. You would eat breakfast together and talk.

“…How long have you been up?” You pulled the blankets off. “Did you sleep at all?”

Levi nodded. “I did…”

“You’re getting tremors in your hands again.”

He looked at his hands, cracked and dirty and covered in dry blood, bitten and shaky. A telltale sign. Within a few hours, maybe less, the nausea would come, and then the cravings, the sweat and the migraine. He shrugged.

You rolled out of bed. The bed squealed as you got off. To his surprise, you came to him.

“Don’t bite it,” You said, looking at his hands.

He blinked.

“You bit so hard you’re bleeding,” You reiterated, touching his fingernails.

He cocked his head, much like a dog. “S…Sometimes I wonder if you’re a… real… person.”

…Or a figment of his imagination. The first time he saw you, he ran away. You must have been some ghost of his past, one of the many dead faces brought animate by the withdrawals. And you kept pursuing. He thought for sure you wanted to kill him for what he did. Instead of that, you gave him heroin. And then you gave him food, and took him in, for absolutely no cost.

He decided that you must not know, and you should never know.

“Don’t be silly.”

You put a bandaid over his finger.

“…No…really… you shouldn’t be here…” Not in Prehevil. It’s a rotten place, for bad people. “And… um… I don’t need a bandage… you should save that.”

“You say weird things sometimes. It makes me want to squeeze you.”

He couldn’t respond to that. “Huh.”

“You need to get some sleep.”

“Stay here...” He croaked.

He had to admit that you were being sensible. The lack of sleep had been getting to him. He was saying things he shouldn’t say. The sun hadn’t fully risen, so… he could afford himself to rest for maybe another 20 minutes. Being generous.

It felt pathetic to beg.

“I’ll keep watch.” You promised.

Swallowing his shame, he slipped under the covers. It was still warm from your body heat. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt the warmth of a human, even if it was just the lingering traces from your pillow. He almost felt excited like a little kid. Its like an indirect hug, he thought.

You sat at the foot of the bed. You had no rifle to polish or any way to keep yourself occupied, except to listen to the soft breathing of Levi next to you. The way he curled up was soft, never like how a soldier should sleep. He left his rifle.

“Sleep well,” you said softly.

“….yeah….”

[izvmimi]

cw: you and shoto have a named child. morning fluff. fem!reader.

when you wake up, there are three instead of two bodies in your bed.

shifting slightly as your eyes adjust to the sunlight, you find your toddler son semi-squashed between you and your husband's bodies, and shoto has a protective arm around his tiny midsection, and the other laying across your hip. he's a pretty heavy sleeper, and it takes a bit of strength to shift him gently off of you, especially when he resists and holds onto you tighter.

"shoto... baby?" you murmur. he turns his head towards the sound of your voice but doesn't open his eyes, although another push of his arm does free you. yukito doesn't wake either when you shift his tiny leg away from you, and you thank the heavens that you're finally free.

tiptoeing out of the room, you decide to make breakfast for this lazy saturday morning. as you mix pancake batter together, you wonder if your snowy haired child had yet another bad dream and got picked up by his dad, the crying barely registered to you in the middle of the night (unlikely) or if he crawled out of his own bed himself and made his way in between you (much more likely). either way, you'll know soon enough when your boys wake.

by the time you've set the table, shoto is entering, yawning still and rubbing sleep out of his eyes, yukito held on his hip. yukito mirrors the action, and you smile. they look so much alike, despite the fact that yukito has not a single strand of red hair nor a scar. todoroki genes are strong.

"mommy, i had a bad dream," yukito admits with a pout as shoto slips a booster seat under the boy's chair and sets him down. you pour a reasonable amount of syrup onto his pancakes.

"oh no! what about?" you coo at him as you cut up his pancakes. shoto whispers a good morning into the skin of your shoulder and kisses the spot, then rubs it before he makes his way to the fridge to pour a glass of water.

"monster under the bed again," he grumbles, picking at his food with a dinosaur-shaped fork. "more syrup," he demands.

you shake your head. "enough syrup."

yukito looks up at you and frowns, but then gives up quickly when you keep smiling at him. he's a good kid, always.

"okay, mommy."

his mood shifts and he eats happily, kicking his feet. shoto, who's been watching trying to wake himself up further as he leans against the sink, finally sits down next to you.

"did you sleep well?" he asks.

you think about the tiny foot in your face when you got up.

"yeah," you smile.

shoto smiles back then pulls you close so that your chin rests on his shoulder.

"zoo today? the midoriyas texted."

you nod.

"sure."

"okay."

shoto digs in as well into his heaping stack of pancakes and you all share breakfast as a family.

[thepenandthepistol]

hihi something cutesy and cliché with grian please 🤗🤗

love ur writing!!

Try Again Tomorrow (Grian x reader)

An early morning leaves you with some reflecting to do about who you were before Grian and who you are now.

A/N: I. LOVE. HIM. Anon, I'm so sorry I know you said cliche and fluff but I couldn't help myself and sprinkled some angst in there, nothing we can't fix by the end though. Hope you enjoy and thank you so much for your kindness! It's spurred me on more than you can know. (1020 words)

Art by @/bc-jpeg and dividers by @/cafekitsune

This morning was not unlike many others. It was soft and windy. The curtains swam in the breeze of an already scorching sun, light shifting under the fabric’s billowing. The rays dash over the features of your beloved, he glows amidst the messy room. You’ve seen this a thousand times and with each fresh memory, it only gets better.

Grian’s nose scrunches as he stirs awake, body heavy with sleep. His arm is still draped over your waist, your hand traces the base of his wings, languid motions making his eyes flutter shut for a moment too long. You swear he’s gone back to sleep until his own hands pull you closer. His head of sandy hair rests on your shoulder as he curls into your embrace. His wings unfurl, blocking out the sun and sight of the clothes from last night, pants disregarded atop a chair, shoes still at the foot of the bed. 

Booze and dancing, a party where you know everyone. Your feet have never ached more and aching has never felt this good. Every song revealed a part of your soul, fragments shining under a disco ball with every move and step. You are surrounded by friends, but your eyes land back on him. Grian stands at the edge of the floor with two drinks in hand. He looks eager to join but, despite his craned neck, can’t seem to find a counter to place the cups down. Catching your glance, he smiles, handing Joel and Lizzie their drinks, and then springing towards you. He weaves through the thinning crowd until he can reach your hand. He pulls you closer, taking only a step back, and holds your jaw with his other hand. You hold on to the lapels of his dress shirt, straightening his loose tie. His thrilled smile eases into a fond grin and he presses a kiss to your lips. 

Now, he’s much less energetic. To think if it weren’t for him, you might’ve already been up and working. The days before him were mundane as well, but different. You might’ve not gone to that party, stayed in and slept late, staring at a ceiling and counting the blemishes. You trace the uneven skin on Grian’s shoulder, counting the occasional raised patches.

“Love, you need to get some summer clothes.” You say, and he hums, half listening, mostly basking in the attention. “Your sweater’s making you break out again.”

“We can sort that out later.”

Later. Now, the world is your bedroom. How much work could you have gotten done before this? How many pangs of loneliness would you have fought to forget in the hours now spent with him? Your hands, nicked and leathery, tuck a strand of hair behind his ear and rest at the nape of his neck, scratching gently. 

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the window, your image in a blue expanse of cloudless sky. Your arms are thicker than they were, flaccid. Every evening you both stop what you are doing, put away the tools and materials, they’ll be there tomorrow. On even days Grian cooks dinner, he’s collected quite the recipe book and what used to be labor is now rest. With a skillet in hand, he dances around your kitchen. He pretends to drop the pan only to fake you out. He’s only actually dropped it a single time. 

Before, only with the moon high into the aether would you have stopped to eat, hurrying food into a starved mouth like shoveling coal into a furnace, mechanic and primal. In your cold kitchen, you stared at the ceramic floor. Tomorrow would be the same, again and again. You were much more productive back then.

“Do you have any plans?” Grian asks. The question is innocuous, but the gears are turning in his brain. He knows something’s pulling you down. 

“Not really,” you murmur. Longing strikes a bell in your chest. What could you have been? Successful, productive, probably painfully alone. Would that have been better than this? The first answer that comes to mind is shameful. You were a beautiful animal, a prize pony who never got the medal. How could you even hope to compete now if you were not worthy before?

Grian shifts from beside you. Thoughts run through your mind until he positions his thighs between your legs, straddling you with his weight comfortably resting on your pelvis. His eyes crinkle, but it’s bittersweet. He can’t guess what havoc is parading inside your head, but he knows that far-away gaze. He shifts forward and your fingers hold his waist. He kisses the skin under your lashes, dark hues blending back into the surroundings with each day that passes. You were chasing something, an indescribable mass that would make you good.

He kisses your jaw. His lips are so very dry, but so purposeful. He knows every inch of you, each crevice of your hollow bones, and he holds them so very dearly. You aren’t good, definitely not the best person you could be. But here he is. He sees you and he holds you.

“You have an incredible mind, a vast, vast soul.” He whispers as he finally kisses your lips. Your lungs fill with air, eyes closing and loosening the stranglehold on your heart. 

There are a thousand different ways your life could have gone, but only now do you feel glad to be here. This body has suffered for so long, searching for an excuse to heal itself back from the brink. But Grian needs no reason to love you. He takes your cheeks into his hands, a mirror of the night before, and does not let go. 

You could have accomplished so much in the time you took to realize this, but how much better would it be to do those things with him by your side? Savoring the days as they go, waking up late with only the lasting weight of your partner atop you. Arms and legs aching after dancing and not tirelessly working, giving up on grasping to be someone you never needed to be. 

[goldsainz]

BIRTHDAY BOY — one shot.

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

MASTERLIST.

taglist: @lorarri @lpab @whatthefuckerr @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @schumacheer @saintslewis @leoramage @ellswilliams @toomuchdelusion @anthonykatebridgerton @enhacolor @gulabjamoon @mikasa140904 @darleneslane @avengersheart

summary: carlos starts out his birthday fully relaxed.

request: “❛ good morning, sleeping beauty. ❜ with Carlos, please ❤️”

warnings: badly done ending but other than that, just pure wholesomeness!

NOTE: this will probably be my last fic for a while, but i really wanted to post this for carlos’s bday! i hope you guys like it and happy birthday to our chili 🫶 (also this gif is giving pure domesticity)

[ word count: 772 ]

Monza was always special. It was even more special now because Carlos would spend his birthday surrounded by a community that loved him, by people who supported him.

He didn’t like making a big deal out of his birthday, preferring a low-key celebration with friends and family over an exaggerated party. So, that’s how he would start his birthday. With a little gif of peace.

You tried your best to make a hectic day start out great. It wasn’t easy though, because Fridays meant free practice and that meant there was more weight in Carlos’s shoulders. Still, it didn’t hurt to try.

You had woken up extra early so that while your boyfriend slept, you could prepare the best breakfast you could; at least for a hotel room. You called for room service, telling them to just knock when they arrived so that the ringing of the room’s bell wouldn’t wake Carlos up.

You placed everything carefully on the foot of the bed, and then crawled towards him. Always careful not to bump the food or even Carlos, so as to not startle him.

“Carlos,” You softly whispered, tapping him on his back. His face was pressed against the pillow, his lips slightly open as he exhaled.

He shifted around a little, a slight groan leaving his mouth when he stretched. His face lit up almost instantly when he saw you, your lips curled in a simple and yet beautiful smile.

Carlos was sure that there was not better sight to be woken up to than you. That there was no other present that could ever amount to your presence. The biggest gift he had ever received was you.

“Buen día, amor.” He said, his voice hoarse from being asleep, accent thicker than usual. Good morning, love.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” You’re still smiling at him, revelling in the fact that you woke up before him, something that rarely happens.

“I think you mean, birthday boy.” He argues, voice full of amusement.

You laugh at his words, leaning down to place a kiss on his lips. It starts out fairly innocent, but knowing how Carlos is, it easily starts to turn into something more. You place your hands on his hair, tugging at it slightly. By the time you pull away, you are breathing heavily and your lips are swollen.

“This is my present?” He murmurs against your lips, “Because if it is, I’m not complaining.”

“Not quite,” You say, “I got you breakfast.”

You try and move away from him, but his hands grabs yours tugging you back next to him. You huff at his antics, leaving you to gesture at the tray of food.

“Breakfast in bed?” His voice is soft, basking in the moment. Though the act is small, it is the though behind it that makes his heart swell.

“And,” You smile at him, “I got Ferrari to give you an extra half-hour with me.”

Carlos grins at your words, you can almost see the gears turning in his head. You know what he’s about to say, after so much time with him, you know him him like the back of your hand.

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm.”

“And what can I do in this half-hour?” A smirk now dances on his lips, his hand sliding down your body.

“Eat your breakfast. No funny business, you need your nutrients.” Carlos whines at your words, pouting at his idea being thrown out the window.”

“But it’s my birthday…”

“It’ll still be your birthday tonight.” His ears perk up at your words, sitting up straighter on the bed.

“Tonight.”

“Yes. Now eat, or you and I will never hear the end of it from Ferrari.”

Carlos pecks your lips, and turns to the breakfast, suddenly devouring everything like a starved man. You’re not sure if he had a great appetite or if he’s hurrying up in hopes of something else happening, but either way, you’re glad he liked the surprise.

“Thank you, hermosa.” His eyes shine under the sunlight, the smile he has on his face makes your insides instantly melt.

“You’re more than welcome, bebe.” You tell him, stealing another kiss from him, “Happy birthday.”

“Happy birthday, indeed.” You laugh at his suggestive glance when your hands travel to the nape of his neck, making you push away his face jokingly.

“Come on, we need to hurry.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He rolls his eyes playfully, and you can’t help but laugh at his antics.

Might not have been the most elaborate surprise, but at least it was a relaxed start of the morning with the one you love. And that’s all you and he need; each other.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

So of course we've all seen the smut where the ghoul eats you out while on your period...... and my question is this...... do you think that is strictly the ghoul thing? Because of the cannibalism? Or did Cooper prewar already have his red wings? He seems the type to do ANYTHING to make his girl feel better if you catch my drift. Just a thought 😂🤭

It's absolutely not just a cannibalism-related thing; while, ironically, I don't really see Prewar!Cooper Howard as someone who would really enjoy the iron-heavy taste of blood/very rare meat/game-type meat all that much, you are 110% correct in saying that he would do anything to make his partner feel better.

Plus, he's just a munch in general. If he wants to eat pussy, he wants to eat pussy now, not in 4-7 days. It being a little medium-rare doesn't bother him at all.

I didn't intend for this to end up this long. I just sat down to answer this ask real quick and suddenly I had like 2,500 words. I guess you could call it a spiritual prequel to "Bloodletting".

There are a lot of things you don't enjoy about being a person who menstruates. There are also a lot of things you don't enjoy about living in California, namely the summers with their unforgiving heat and brain-frying sun.

Menstruation in the California summer is downright unfair.

After a long day of enduring your body's seemingly intense resentment towards you, you feel disgusting when you finally make it to the home you share with your fiance and immediately drag yourself into a scalding hot shower. Cooper often likes to joke that you're trying to boil yourself in there, playfully chastise that it isn't good for your skin, but the way the heat seeps into your sore muscles is like a siren's call. Once the tap runs cold, you begrudgingly dry yourself, pulling your damp hair up and away from your neck and shoulders before rummaging through the medicine cabinet for something to hopefully ease the ache in your cramping abdominal muscles.

Too tired and sore to worry about scrounging up any food, you throw your still lightly-damp, nude body into your unmade bed and pull the top sheet around you. Normally, the thing would be nicely made before you left the house for the day, but since Cooper left long before you and it fell to you to do the making today, it simply hadn't happened. Cranky, you offer the sleeping dog curled up at the foot a few scratches on his sweet head before closing your eyes and getting in a short, fitful nap.

The familiar jangle of Cooper's keys in the front lock tugs you out of the dreamless void you'd fallen into at some point, and you smile briefly as you hear Roosevelt scuttle off from where he'd been watching over you towards the door. After a moment, you can hear the garbled greetings the older man gives his furry companion, the first step in his homecoming routine, with which you are now intimately familiar. The next step is to shed his boots and jacket, then to drop his keys and the mail on the small table inside the door.

"Honey?" he calls, footsteps moving your way. The two of you spoke on the phone around lunch and he had received a rather generous earful of your complaints.

"I'm here." you respond, turning to face the ceiling groggily as he enters.

"My poor sugar." he laments, the mattress sinking on one side as he sits down beside you, one warm hand patting your back sympathetically. Roosevelt sits briefly beside the bed, watching you curiously, but Cooper dismisses him to his bed in the living room softly, and the dog obeys quietly. "I'm gonna hop in the shower real quick. Can I get you something to take first? Or the hot water bottle, maybe?"

"I already took something, I'm just waiting for it to kick in." you reply, eyes closed as you try to soothe your abdominals with the warmth of your bare hands. "I would take the hot water bottle if you're offering, though."

You cuddle the warm sack of rubber he fetches for you, holding it snug against your stomach under the top sheet as you listen to the sounds of him quickly hopping into and out of the shower. When he emerges, you can see a faint amount of steam seep into the bedroom, as opposed to the thick clouds that typically roll out when you're finished.

"Feeling any better, sweetheart?" he asks, leaning down to kiss at your bare shoulder.

"Eh, sort of." you respond, smiling at the feeling of his lips on your back. The tickling feeling combined with the smell of his body wash encompassing you makes you clench a little, which both fans the low-burning coals in your gut that always smoulder around him and makes another cramp rip through you, sending you whining.

"Aww, poor thing." he coos, petting at your leg and knee. "Did you try anything else?"

"The stuff I took earlier is working okay, and the water bottle is nice." you say, setting the thing aside as you sit up to look at him. There's just a touch more white in the salt-and-pepper of his sideburns now than there was when you originally met him, but you find it very appealing. "I just wish everything wasn't so tight and tense, you know?"

"I hear you." he says, lips moving along your forehead. "I could try making you feel better, if you'd let me."

You chuckle in response, tossing yourself down flat in a dramatic display of exhaustion.

"If you can figure out how, be my guest."

Your words bring a massive grin to his face, and suddenly he's planted himself down between your knees, hands running along your inner thighs and rapidly up towards your mound.

"Cooper, what're you--" you begin, but he cuts you off with a gentle shushing and a light massage to your tight thigh muscles.

"Just lie back and let me help you." he says, lying down flat with his shoulders right even with your knees. He peppers kisses from your navel, down the little trail of soft, downy hair that leads to your mons before ghosting his lips back and forth, back and forth across the skin. It raises goosebumps on your skin almost instantly in anticipation.

"Honey." you huff as another cramp balls up in your middle at the sensation. "Don't tease."

"M'sorry, my girl." he apologizes. "I'll make it better."

Only a moment later, you're crying out as he spreads you open gently with his hands and finds your aching little bud with the tip of his tongue. He doesn't like rare meat all that much, from what you've seen, so you're not sure how crazy he is about the taste of blood, but he doesn't hesitate to slide his tongue fully along your wet, sensitive slit, using the wriggling muscle to worship every inch of you until your vision is full of stars.

The tension in your abdomen increases as he brings you closer and closer to orgasm, your legs quickly moving up to wrap around his head of their own accord, holding him tight in place with his lips and tongue against your clit. Eventually, you feel his fingers gently swiping around your entrance, and the gasp that leaves you when he slips two of them inside of you is echoed by a low groan from your partner. Your hands are knotted tight in the disheveled sheets, your hips bucking and grinding against Cooper's face like they have a mind of their own.

The rhythm he's playing against your bud increases as you whine and cry out his name again, and by the time he's made you cum for the third time, he's visibly grinding his hips against the mattress, licking and sucking at your skin until you tug on his hair for mercy.

His lips and chin are streaked in scarlet as he pulls himself back up, grinning down at you as he pivots to settle on his hip beside you, his warm, softly calloused hand hand still stroking your thigh lovingly as you ride out your last few scant shivers.

"Feel any better now?" he asks as he takes in your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. You roll your eyes playfully, kicking softly in his direction, only to be undercut by him seizing your foot in his hand and peppering it with kisses, making you squeal with laughter.

"Alright, I feel a lot better." you admit when you finally calm down. You sit up a ways, nuzzling beneath his chin, planting wet kisses there and feeling him shiver in response. "But I still think you should have to split these stupid things with me. Or find a way to stop them, maybe. Write some scientists a check or something."

"Oh, I can stop them, sweetheart." he says bawdily, tucking his chin to tease your throat with his tongue as your hand moves to rest on his cheek. "For about a year, a least."

The hand resting on his cheek moves to the back of his head, threading into the thick, dark hair there and gently pressing there to usher him down towards you until your lips meet once more. He knows this is a hot button for both of you, and you want to chastise him for being such a tease. However, your mind is too foggy.

As he leans further towards you, tongue pushing deeper into your mouth, your hand is finally able to find what it's been seeking. His erection is already throbbing in your grip as you stroke him through his boxers, a groan seeping through his nostrils as he pulls back from your kiss. Despite this, you hook your leg around his hip the best you can, attempting to tug him back down between your legs.

"Coop." you whisper, pushing your hips at his.

"You don't have to do that, sweetheart." he says, eyes clenched as tight as his sudden grip on the bed sheets curled around his left hand. You know he wants to fuck you, that he needs to cum after everything he's given you; the evidence is in your hand. However, you also know he'll deny himself for your sake.

"Let me take care of you." you whisper, lips tracing along his throat as your hand continues to work him, concentrating your movements towards the tip and earning a genuine whimper from him. The throaty, vulnerable sound from him makes your entire gut clench, and your lips latch onto his stubbly throat, your tongue lathing his freshly bathed skin.

"I took care of you because I wanted to help you feel better. I don't need anything in return." he replies, his voice low and quiet as he strains to keep it even.

"I want you to feel better, too."

Your hand is fully stroking him again, and by the time you notice the growing wet spot near your hand, he's leaning down and forcing his tongue back into your mouth, sighing contently as he pulls himself back between your legs. One hand softly kneads your left breast, his weight balanced on his elbow and knee as he works his shorts down, kicking them off the foot of the bed absentmindedly.

A subconscious sigh leaves you as you drink in the sight of him, his leaking cock laying, flushed red and painfully hard, against his toned stomach. Trying your best to ignore the way he smirks at you, easy as you wrap your legs around his hips, his hand moving between you to guide himself teasingly along your entrance. You sigh his name when the head of him finally catches and sinks fluidly into your warmth.

Your tense pelvic muscles ache in protest for a passing moment as they adjust to him, to his weight pressing into you, but as you breathe deep, the stretch eases away some of the strain, leaving you sighing with relief as he begins to gently fuck you.

He's soft and slow to begin with, watching your face closely as you adjust to him, burying his face in your neck and latching onto it with his lips as you finally take him to the hilt.

"Oh, Cooper." you sigh, gripping hard at his shoulders as you grind your clit against his pubic bone, the soft texture of his pubic hair adding to the mountain of sensations he's making you experience. "I needed this so bad."

Your admission seems to only fuel him, groaning as his fingers move to strum at your clit again, pressing practiced circles around the swollen little nub just like you'd shown him to do. The rough feeling of the small callous he has on his trigger finger drives you absolutely mad with pleasure, making you tighten around him as you cry out.

"Fuck, baby, I've been thinking about this all day." he confesses in a low, hushed tone as his hips continue to slap against yours, still mindful of where his weight is placed over you, but growing steadily more forceful in his movements. Soon, he has you built up into a sweaty mess, crying out for more of his touch, more of him in general as he holds your hips tight.

"I'm gonna cum, Coop." you pant, face red hot and damp as the rest of you as he continues to work back and forth between your thighs. The sudden feeling of his white teeth, sharp and strong, digging into the crook of your neck makes you whimper, and the sound seems to teleport him right to the exact same spot you're in.

"Shit, me too." he hisses, lips and tongue still attacking your neck as his hips quickly lose their rhythm, driving hard into you once, twice, three more times before he pulls back and shoots his load all over your soft stomach, growling like a wild animal as jet after jet of thick, sticky cum coats your flushed skin.

Once you've both come down from your high, you wiping pitifully at your sweaty face as he extracts himself from you as gently as possible, hand threading through his damp hair, you both chuckle, lying on your sides facing one another at the foot of the bed, catching your breaths. He grabs for your hand like he always does after you make love, holding it snug in the palm of his own as you bask in the afterglow.

The only difference now is that there's an engagement ring on your hand for him to play with. Seeing it on you seems to make him swell with pride, and that makes you feel warm inside.

"How does a nice, hot bath and some takeout sound?" he asks eventually, running his lips along your forehead as his hands massage at your lower back.

"Sounds amazing." you smirk, pulling back a few inches to look at him mischievously. "But I already had a super long, hot shower when I got home. Is double dipping allowed?"

Smirking at your coy playfulness, he pulls you up into his lap and snug against his chest, both of you wincing slightly at the slick, wet feeling of the mess all over both of your stomachs. The man never fails to produce quite a bit.

"Normally, I'd say no." he fires back matter-of-factually. "But considering the circumstances, I'll allow it this one time."

"You did make quite the mess." you chastise, but your words are quickly interrupted by him quickly snatching you up, hefting you into the air as he takes a moment to balance you both before making his way into the en suite bathroom.

"Well, one could argue that the mess is at least partially your fault, but I'm willing to take responsibility for my part and help tidy you up." he chuckles as he carries you towards the tub. "I'm very thorough in my cleaning."

"Promise?" you chuckle suggestively.

"Promise." he winks.

[fruityhoon]

eat with me

soft yandere!hee x gn!reader

warnings/note: mentions of food, eating, hee’s a sweet boi here, fluff, slightly paranoid hee, NOT proofread (i wrote all of this half asleep so bare w me)

————

it was way past midnight and you couldn’t sleep, all you had was some leftover sandwich from the fridge for dinner so what better way was there than to eat?

only one problem..

you had to sneak past heeseung in order to be able to do that.

sure he was sweet and would do anything for you, but heeseung wasn’t the type to let his guard down and let you out of his sight especially past midnight, he’d always make sure you fell asleep first before he could catch some sleep. and if you were hungry, he’d make something light for you so your stomach wouldn’t be rumbling all night.

but tonight was a little different, he came back home exhausted, immediately taking a shower and laid next to you resulting in him falling asleep before you which was something he never did

and right now you took the opportunity and slowly climbed out of bed while making sure heeseung doesn’t feel your absence next to him

you went downstairs and headed into the kitchen, taking a look inside the fridge you noticed there wasn’t really anything for you to eat which lead you looking through the cabinets and voila!

instant noodles.

heeseung never really lets you get your hands on them as he quote on quote said, “it’s unhealthy and you should be eating proper meals instead”

‘why does he have a lot of them in the cabinet here then?’ you thought to yourself

taking 2 packs of the noodles, you dont know how but you managed to not make much noise and made yourself a nice bowl of shin ramyeon

———

he lazily opened his eyes, trying to find your warmth to then which he realised you werent there next to him.

immediately sitting up, heeseung grabbed his phone on the nightstand and opened an app to see if there were any notifications of the doors or windows being opened or even unlocked but there werent any

‘fuck fuck fuck where are they?’

the man got out of bed despite his hair being all over the place, wondering where you were while trying to keep himself calm

he was being paranoid, thinking you snuck out and ran away, cursing at himself for letting his guard down this one time until he heard faint noises coming from the kitchen

he walked over slowly and a sigh of relief came from him as he saw you in the kitchen about to eat your noodles

———

you were about to engulf your food when a pair of arms hugged you from the back, you flinched and let out a small yelp, almost knocking over your food

pulling away and turning around, you were met with a pair of bambi eyes looking straight at you before he hugged you again , resting his face in the crook of your neck

“dont do that to me again, you scared me” he lowly whispered in your ear as he hugged you even tighter, you could hear the fear in his voice

feeling bad you slowly pulled away and caressed his head and looked at your food

“im sorry.. i was really hungry but you looked really tired and exhausted before you slept so i didnt wanna wake you up” you looked down at your foot, feeling guilty that you made him feel scared

“i dont care how tired i look if you need anything just tell me okay? i’ll always be there no matter how exhausted i am and i need you to know that” you nodded as he cupped both of your cheeks before leaving a small peck on your forehead

“c’mere” you pulled him to the seat next you as you quickly got up to grab something, leaving the man confused

you came back to your seat as you handed him a pair of utensils and placed a glass of water on the table

“eat with me” you nudged the bowl slightly to his side, the man raising an eyebrow as a response

“you didnt eat anything today hee, its not like i can finish this anways, share with me okay?” you said as you gave him a soft smile

“baby its o-“

“if you dont share with me i’ll be really upset” you cut him off as you emphasised on the ‘really’, knowing he’d give in to you since you knew the last thing he wants is for you to be upset with him

and you were right. he spent too long waiting for you, now that he finally had you with him he wanted to treat you well and give you all he had. he was always listening to you, complying to your needs while always being cautious of course

but you didnt mind, although he was really overprotective he still made you feel loved and you felt safe with him and thats all that matters to you

“okay okay we’ll share” he let out a small giggle as he ruffled your hair and the both of you shared the bowl of ramen which was probably already soggy at this point

———

“your not mad.. right?” you spoke out as the both of you finished the food

“baby of course not, what makes you think that?” he looked at you as he frowned

“i don’t know i just thought you’d be mad” you got up and took the dishes to go wash them but he stopped you

“im not mad y/n, i just got a little scared that’s all” he took the dishes from your hands and walked over to the sink

you hugged him from behind as you mumbled out a quiet ‘sorry’ , resting ur cheeks on his back

“it’s okay, you wanna cuddle on the couch?” he dried his hands and turned to look at you to which you nodded

the both of you sat on the couch cuddling, your head on his chest and him leaning on your head, one of his hand gently caressing your back

cuddling sessions on the couch were always nice and it wasn’t until a few weeks ago the both of you started doing it

“please don’t leave me y/n, i don’t know what i’d do without you” he softly whispered out of nowhere, but you know it was just him overthinking

“i’ll be here, always” you responded as he smiled and started humming lullabies, something he’d do to make you sleepy

you fiddled with his other hand, slowly falling asleep to the melody you were hearing

and soon enough you fell asleep, heeseung noticed and kissed your forehead, dozing off not long after.

——————————————————————————

author’s note: im not really the type to write fluff but i just wrote down whatever came to mind honestly, let me know what yall think :D