#anyway wife is back and he missed her <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[scorpiusmalfoylovesoscarwilde]

I truly wish I had any artistic talent just so I could lowkey redo all dramione fanart with Astoria because oh my god the ratio of dramione to drastoria fan content is so heartwrenchingly depressing

[chuluoyi]

✎ baby to the rescue

- gojo satoru x reader

in which gojo recruits your baby son to “save” you from a credit card salesman

genre: immense fluff !! baby gojo and dad!gojo shenanigans~

note: based on this and this reel. with this i hereby declare that anything past chapter 235 is null and void HAHA anyway, i truly want to post remarried empress au by this week but since 261 leaks hurt me so much, i need more fluff so have to postpone it to next week :') tagging @karikari19hikariiii <3

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Your husband Gojo Satoru... is handsome as hell, which means your baby son is also undeniably good-looking.

"Why do you pout at me?" Satoru poked his squirming baby's cheek while pursing his lips too. "C'mon, smile! That auntie is smiling at you!"

Everyone who passed by them in Shinjuku shopping district turned heads to admire him and his pumpkin just a little longer, and Satoru visibly enjoyed the attention. He smiled back at them, occasionally winking even.

If only they knew how pretty his wife was too...

Wait, no! On second thought, if they know how hot you are, there will be problems!

You had left him to go to the nearest pharmacy to restock some things, while Satoru decided to entertain his baby in the toy section. He basked in the starry-eyed looks people were giving him... until he heard some strange sounds and turned to his baby boy—

—who was chewing the beak of a duck toy with all his might. Satoru was mortified.

"—! Let that go! Your mama will beat me if she sees you eating this!"

Your baby paid him no mind though, desperately pushing the duck into his mouth. Satoru sat him on one of the empty racks and began the tug of war—

"Let go!" he reprimanded. "You're so naughty, gods—!"

Some people were now openly giggling at both of them. His son tried to resist by rolling, and Satoru clicked his tongue. He then yanked the toy away until his baby finally let it go, sniffling sadly that his papa wouldn't let him have the duck.

"Oh, you..." he picked him up again and consoled the pumpkin. "You can't do that, you hear? First, it's not clean. Second, mama will grow two heads to chew you and me both, understand?"

No, your son totally didn't understand a thing. Satoru sighed, seeing his little blue eyes welling up with tears. He ruffled his head and pulled him close. "There, there... I'll get you ice cream, okay? Now let's go."

Satoru was determined to turn his son back into a smiling, happy baby. But just as he was about to head towards the ice cream parlor, he encountered the most unbelievable sight—

"Miss! I guarantee you'll love this credit card features!"

You. That was clearly you, and a salesman (or a bozo, in Satoru's eyes) was trying to bother you.

You raised an eyebrow. "Uh, no— thank you—"

Yet the bozo was still persistent, like the pesky fly he was. "You can use it to pay for your monthly beauty treatments! Someone as pretty as you..." He eyed you from head to toe, blinking suggestively. "Oh my! Your skin is flawless! You have to maintain it this way! I can also give you recommendations for—"

You were wearing a flare dress that made you look so young and petite, and obviously, Satoru too was lusting after you. And true, your skin was smooth like a soft serve of mochi, but still!

You are meant for him and his eyes only! Oho, this bozo would get heavenly punishment.

He had to get to you somehow, but this was public space and if he cooked up some sort of shenanigan, you would put him in sex ban. I can't have that! so Satoru wracked his brain to think of another way...

Once again, his gaze fell on his now calm baby, who was also looking at his mama over there with utter curiosity. And an idea immediately popped up in his mind.

"Hey, kiddo, look at that, a bad man is trying to take your mama," Satoru nudged him as if trying to egg him on. "We can't let that happen. Will you help me to save her, hmm?"

"Mama..." your baby looked back at him so innocently before smiling. "Mamaaa!"

"Good boy." Gods, his baby was so adorable, he almost felt bad for doing this but...

Swallowing his guilt, thinking he would make it up later, he pinched his son's butt a little too firmly—

"WAAAA!" and suddenly, the little boy burst into tears, and even Satoru was surprised by the sheer volume of his wail.

The sudden inconsolable sound of your baby sent you scrambling in panic, your eyes wildly searching for him, completely disregarding the credit card man. "My baby!"

"Eh?" the credit card man was visibly surprised. "Oh... so, you're married...?"

You immediately made your way towards Satoru and snatched your baby from him, hugging him tightly. "Oh, there, there... What happened to you?" you shot your husband a distaste look as your son kept wailing. "Satoru, why is he crying?"

He nonchalantly shrugged. "Maybe missing his mama? Dunno~"

By now, you had completely forgotten the credit card bozo, but he still looked at the three of you in mild surprise. Satoru took this chance to approach him and whisper in his ear:

"You see, my wife doesn't need your credit card," he whistled. "My cards or lumpsum money will do more than enough."

After seeing how pale the bozo looked, Satoru chuckled darkly... before leading you and your son away from the crowd, with one arm possessively around your waist.

Epilogue

"I'm sorry— I'm sorry, okay!?"

Satoru looked down at his son in utter hopelessness, as the little boy refused to be held by him, looking at him with teary, resentful eyes, and backing away from him in his playpen.

Can babies hold a grudge? Satoru didn't know, but his son definitely was not happy with him, and he couldn't think of any other explanation other than his sin against him back this afternoon.

"I've bought you mochi ice cream!" he opened his palm to reveal the treat. "Don't you want some? Papa will give you some, yeah?"

Baby looked skeptical now, and at that moment, he resembled you so much—accusing eyes, pursed lips, exactly like the expression you would pull when you were unsure of what Satoru might do next. He almost chuckled at the resemblance, feeling giddy.

"C'mon, forgive me, yeah?" he patted his son's little beanie and offered his hand for him to take, eyes crinkling in fondness. "Now, here comes your treat, come closer?"

Your baby crawled closer, seemingly accepting him, and Satoru was all smiles, until—

Whack!

It happened in a flash. He could have avoided it, but he was too taken aback. The pain exploded in his jaw, so intense that he grunted loudly.

"What the—?! You... you—! You kicked me— in the face!"

[sunniques]

— 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 !

➺ PAIRING: choi seungcheol x female reader

➺ GENRE: stepdad au, smut

➺ SUMMARY: your stepdad goes to great lengths to spoil you.

➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infedilty, age gap, daddy kink, breeding kink, somnophilia, cockwarming, masturbation, oral sex (f & m), rimming, face riding, unprotected sex, creampies, squirting, cum eating, riding, shower sex, recording during sex, having sex while on the phone, reader can be carried by cheol

➺ WC: 8k

NOTE: don’t like, don’t read. thank you @wonustars for beta reading this for me <3

Seungcheol is the first to admit that he spoils you rotten. He can’t really be blamed for it since you were a spoiled princess long before he met you. Technically, it’s your mother’s fault for always indulging you every time you asked for something. He knows she only gave in to compensate for not being around as much as she should have, but now it’s a responsibility he’s happily shouldered.

That’s why when you tell him you want to fuck all over the house with no interruptions, he doesn’t hesitate to make that happen. It's not hard despite there being certain obstacles he comes across.

"I don't understand," his wife's voice wobbles just enough for him to realize she's going to push back. "If you're upset with me, what we need is to talk, not give each other space."

"I need time to think, and I can't do that with you here."

"Seungcheol," his wife's voice is tight with repressed emotion. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not leaving my own house—"

"It's my house," he reminds her coldly. "You're hardly ever here, anyway. I know you'd rather be at work than spend time with me or Y/N."

Your mom flinches because his words are like ice, and because they're true. Still, the selfish part of her can't give him what he wants. Not when it feels like this will make her lose him forever.

"But giving you space for the entire weekend—!"

"Don't raise your voice," Seungcheol hisses, eyes dark and dangerous. "I don't want Y/N to hear."

He won't let her ruin your surprise. He wants to see your face when he tells you that you'll have the entire house to yourselves all weekend long.

Seungcheol doesn't feel bad even as his wife swallows thickly.

"Fine," she whispers, "I'll give you the space you want."

"Good. I want you gone before Saturday."

It's still early when you're gently pulled out of your wet dream by an intense pleasure. Through bleary eyes, you can see the sun still hasn't fully risen. You almost think you're still dreaming until you realize that your pussy being hot and wet is very real. Immediately, you recognize the situation and the pleasure clouding your senses.

You let out a needy mewl when you look down to see a head of hair between your thighs. Arousal rips through you when you realize you're completely naked, sleeping shirt and panties discarded beside your equally naked stepdad. Seungcheol groans into your cunt, pulling back a bit to gently suck on your swollen clit. The quiet whine you let out has his cock throbbing.

"Morning, princess."

"Daddy," you moan as you spread your trembling thighs.

"Shh, baby," Seungcheol gently shushes you while still lapping at your dripping cunt. "Your mom's still sleeping. You don't want to wake her up do you?"

More juices drip from your clenching pussy, and for a moment you wish he had crushed some of those sleeping pills in her drink again. But then again, if she slept in and missed her flight you wouldn't be able to have a cum-filled weekend with her husband like you planned. All you can do is hope she leaves for your grandparents' house soon.

"She's not gone yet?" You can't keep the whine out of your sleepy whisper.

"No," Seungcheol sighs in mutual disappointment before dropping his head back down to keep eating you out.

You toss your head back, mouth dropped open in a silent scream as he licks a broad stripe up your slit before sucking on your clit again. He repeats the action before forcing his tongue back into your slick pussy. Your clit pulses with pleasure as Seungcheol slowly eats you out.

"I've been feasting on your little pussy all morning," he hums against you, placing gentle kisses on your soft lips.

"Already got you to cream on my tongue twice."

He sounds so pleased that he got you to cum without waking you. The satisfied smirk on his shiny lips makes you moan and roll your hips into his mouth.

"You like that, sweetheart? Like that your daddy couldn't help himself?" Seungcheol's eyes are dark as he gently nips at your throbbing clit.

You give him a half-hearted nod, mind swimming with pleasure. Seungcheol's tongue smooths over your pussy and runs it up your slit to softly suckle on your clit, getting the sensitive bud messy with his spit. You grind your hips into his mouth eagerly, wanting to put on a show for the dark eyes that are watching you with molten heat.

Seungcheol pulls back, but not without pressing a quick kiss to your throbbing clit. "Roll over for me, baby. I want to try something."

You sluggishly do as he asks, rolling over until you're lying on your stomach. He grabs your thighs and pushes them until you're spread open, glistening cunt on display for him. Your stepdad's groan is guttural and makes you clench around nothing.

"Prettiest fucking view ever," Seungcheol hums to himself, cock throbbing at the erotic sight of you splayed out for him.

Seungcheol's hands grab your ass as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy lips open. He's quick to dive back into your pussy like a starved man. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, back arching as arousal thrums in your belly.

"God, baby. Love eating this pretty pussy." Your stepdad groans into the wet mess he's created, fucking his tongue deeper into your tight hole.

You try to keep your moans quiet as your hips squirm against the wet tongue spearing you open. The way Seungcheol greedily eats your cunt turns you on even more, and just thinking about what he says gets you even wetter. Feeling his strong hands holding you open as he's fucking his tongue into your clenching hole over and over again is sending you closer to the edge.

You tense slightly when you feel the pad of a finger slide over the furl of your asshole. Seungcheol groans into your pussy making you clench and rock down on the bed. He doesn't move his finger, only rubs it softly back and forth over your asshole.

"Want me to eat this hole too, sweetheart?" Seungcheol pulls back with a wet sound, mouth dragging up to bite your ass cheeks. "All you have to do is ask."

You feel hot all over, loving how fucking nasty he is. How he doesn't hesitate to give you anything you want. All you do is hum, and in less than a second he's spreading your ass until your hole is completely bare for him to see. You wiggle your hips to further entice him. Seungcheol growls as he licks a hot, wet stripe from your cunt all the way to your asshole.

"Daddy!" You cry, pussy fluttering at how much you like it. "More!"

"Don't worry, brat. Daddy's gonna lick you clean," Seungcheol says before he spits on your puckered hole. "I'm gonna eat this cute little ass all morning."

You gasp and moan as he licks over your rim with his hot tongue. The sensation makes you squirm and rock your swollen clit into the bed. While you're distracted by his mouth, he slips a couple of fingers into your empty pussy making you squeal and buck your hips. Seungcheol hums and slowly slides his tongue into your ass, spit dripping down onto his fingers that are scissoring you open.

"Fuck, daddy." You choke out, feeling unbelievably turned on as Seungcheol fucks your ass open with his thick tongue.

He fucks his fingers into your pussy until he's rubbing against your g-spot. You whine and bite your pillow to try and stifle the filthy sounds you're letting out. His tongue greedily licks your asshole open, sloppy wet sounds echoing off your bedroom walls making you drip slick down his fingers. It all feels so good that you wouldn't care if your mom were to walk in on you and your stepdad like this.

You're so lost in pleasure that you almost miss the knock on your door.

"Y/N? Are you awake?" Your mom's groggy voice wanders through the door.

Seungcheol groans quietly and buries his tongue past your clenching hole. His tongue fucks deeper into your ass while he fingers your cunt. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your stepdad starts to eat you out with more vigor than before. His fingers curl into you, massaging that spot that has you mewling into your covers.

Seungcheol briefly pulls away to whisper his filthy desire. "Cream all over my fingers, sweetheart. Show daddy how much you love having his tongue in your ass."

You can't keep your moan quiet when Seungcheol fucks his fingers into your squelching pussy harder. The long digits brush against your spongy spot until your tight pussy is pulsing around his fingers.

"Y/N?" Your mom sounds a bit more awake now.

You grind your hips into Seungcheol as his tongue slowly laps at the rim of your hole over and over again. The sloppy wet noise fills the room, and you wonder if your mom can hear it. Not that you or your stepdad care.

"I-I'm getting up now," luckily, your fucked out voice can easily be mistaken for fatigue.

"I won't be able to make you breakfast before I go. Make sure you eat something before you go to class!"

She's never made you breakfast—not even when you were in grade school. Instead of pondering on why she was trying to act doting, you give her a shaky okay. All you really care about is the teasing kicks her husband is giving your clenching hole.

When her footsteps fade away, his tongue spears you open again. Seungcheol starts to roughly fuck his fingers into your sopping pussy. It all feels so good that you start to bounce back against your stepdad's mouth and fingers, a preening whine high in your throat. Seungcheol lets out a feral growl and pushes his mouth harder against the furl of your asshole to fuck his tongue deeper into your clenching hole.

"I'm gonna cum, daddy," you mewl softly.

Seungcheol hums and keeps eating your ass, his long fingers massaging your velvety walls. You writhe against your bedsheets, the friction allowing the fabric to rub against your clit. Your toes curl as the stimulation pushes you over the edge. With a muffled wail, you cum hard around Seungcheol's fingers. Your wet walls flutter around his fingers as you asshole clenches around his wet tongue.

Your stepdad pulls away once you come down from your high. He groans lowly in his throat before telling you to stay still. A familiar wet sound fills your ears, and when you look over your shoulder you see him jerking off.

"Gonna cum on your holes." Seungcheol groans, fucking his hand harder.

His fat tip bumps against your spread pussy as hot ropes of cum cover your skin. You moan when you feel him drag the head of his leaking cock up to your asshole to cover it with the rest of his seed.

"So fucking pretty," Seungcheol groans.

You lick your lips and blindly reach for your phone. "Want pictures, daddy."

Seungcheol's grin is devious as he takes your phone and does as you ask. He even gets your permission to take a quick video of your soiled holes. Once he's done, he tosses the phone aside and pulls you up to give you a filthy kiss. You moan into his mouth, knowing this is going to be the best weekend of your life.

"Come on, princess," Seungcheol coos adoringly after you pull away. "Let's go shower."

You lick your lips as your stepdad picks you up and carries you over to the master bedroom. It's thrilling for you, especially because you can hear that your mom is still downstairs. Seungcheol shares your uncaring attitude. He's too busy showering you with affectionate kisses to care that his wife might come upstairs and find you two naked.

The air between you is intoxicating, and you almost feel impatient when Seungcheol gently sets you down on the bathroom counter. You make a move to get off and go towards the shower, but your stepdad is quick to stop you. He places a sweet kiss on your lips, eyes shimmering with arousal and affection.

"Stay there and let daddy take care of you, sweetheart," Seungcheol says before going to start the shower.

He waits until the water warms before picking you up again and placing you under the soothing water. You let out a content sigh and lean against him as the humid air surrounds you both. Seungcheol kisses the top of your head before grabbing a clean washcloth and lathering it up with soap.

Seungcheol is gentle as he runs the sudsy cloth along your body. He takes his time, gently cleaning you while murmuring how pretty you are. You can't help but relax under his gentle touch.

"Cheol," you half moan, half sigh as he presses open mouth kisses on your clean skin.

Your thighs squeeze together when he slowly runs the cloth across your tits. He slowly circles your sensitive nipples over and over until you're mewling and arching into his touch. Seungcheol is quick to discard the cloth and goes to grab your soapy tits.

"Fuck," he groans as he pinches and tugs on your hard nipples. "You have the prettiest tits, baby."

Molten heat invades your senses, the praise making you keen. The way your stepdad is so rough with your nipples has your pussy leaking with a different type of wetness running down your thighs. One of his large hands leaves your soft flesh to turn your head so he can give you a heated kiss. His other hand slowly trails down your body until you feel his fingers swiping across your slit then back up to circle your slippery clit.

"Such a sexy little brat," Seungcheol groans fondly before he hooks his chin over your shoulder so he can watch himself play with your pussy. "Always so ready for me."

You cry out in pleasure when his hand comes down to spank your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your knees buckle, but luckily Seungcheol's arm is tightly secured around your waist. He slowly turns you until your back is against the cool tile. Your eyes follow the beads of water that run down his toned body. The water drip off his thick cock, and you feel white hot arousal consume you entirely.

"Daddy," you whine and reach out for his cock.

Seungcheol smirks and kneels down, ignoring your petulant pout, "Daddy's still hungry."

You clench around nothing as he rubs his large hands along your thighs before spreading them open. His grin is devious as he places wet kisses along your inner thighs. You can't contain your moan as his breath ghosts across your throbbing clit.

"Daddy!" You squeal when Seungcheol finally fucks his tongue into your wet cunt.

Your stepdad groans, the vibration stimulating you further as his tongue slides deeper into your pulsing cunt. It's impossible not to watch him as he messily eats you out, licking and suckling on your sensitive bud. His dark eyes are trained on you, loving the fucked out face you're making.

Seungcheol moans when you grind your pussy into his face. He eagerly laps up your juices, licking and tasing every part of you his tongue can reach. The way he places soft kisses between his licks and sucks make your trembling legs feel like they're going to give out. Your eyes roll back as he fucks his tongue deeper into your hole, slurping up every last bit of your arousal.

Seungcheol's cock throbs at the sweet sounds you're letting out. He smirks against your cunt when you arch up and press closer to his pouty lips.

"Gonna cum, daddy."

Seungcheol hums in approval, tongue relentlessly lapping at your clit. "Do it, princess. Cum on daddy's face so he can fill you up."

You cry out loudly and squirt all over his face.

Seungcheol groans in approval and slurps up everything you release. He's smug when fucking you through your orgasm, and he doesn't stop until your legs are shaking. Your stepdad licks his lips and slowly stands, picking you up in the process. He can tell his display of strength turns you on, and it makes his ego inflate.

"Fuck," you mewl when you feel his cock nudge against your pussy.

Seungcheol's gaze is dark as he rubs his throbbing cock along your messy lips. The leaking tip bumps your sensitive clit, making you arch your back and cry out for him. You're so needy and desperate for his dick that he can't make you wait any longer. Seungcheol grabs your ass, squeezing it roughly, before he sinks you down on his aching cock.

"Mmmh, fuck, daddy," your moans come out in a fucked out pants, arms and legs locking around his body.

Seungcheol starts to fuck you slowly, rocking his cock in and out of your pussy at a pace you're not used to from him. Hot water cascades over the both of you, and it makes you feel that much better as your tight walls eagerly suck him in. You feel his cock stretching you out slowly, making you whine into his wet neck.

"Fucking shit, Y/N," your stepdad's groan is guttural. "Tight little pussy feels too good."

It's like you both lose sense of time as Seungcheol slowly splits you open on his cock. The movement of his hips are slow yet deliberate. Every time his pelvis rubs against your clit you see stars. His throbbing tip brushes against the spongy spot inside you, barely kissing your cervix with every precise movement. Molten pleasure consumes you slowly, already making you feel cock drunk.

"Seungcheol?"

Your stepdad's hips stutter at the sound of your mother's voice, but one look at the pout on your face makes him keep going. Especially since you tighten around him at the same time his cock starts to throb and twitch inside you. You two share a filthy smirk, loving the turn of events. It’s so sick and twisted, but both of you are past caring.

"What is it?" Seungcheol calls, slightly annoyed as he starts to bounce you on his cock.

"I– Well..." your mom trails off, sounding completely unsure of herself.

You don't care that it's uncharacteristic of her because Seungcheol starts to press sloppy kisses on your neck. His thrusts have grown rougher, harshly pounding into your squelching pussy. Your eyes roll back as your toes curl. The feeling of your stepdad's veiny cock dragging against your slick walls have you gushing all over him, and the fact that your mom is standing right outside the bathroom door completely unaware only turns you on more.

"I hope giving you the space you want doesn't mean this is the end of our marriage." You can tell she's close to tears as she speaks.

"Cum inside me, daddy," you purr into Seungcheol's ear, wanting nothing more than him to stuff you full.

Seungcheol quietly groans into your neck, feeling your pulsing walls flutter around his cock. His grip on your ass tightens, and he starts to bounce you harder on his aching dick. He hears his wife holding back sobs, but he doesn’t feel bad. Not since he has her daughter’s tight little pussy wrapped around his cock.

"Such a nasty little brat," he hums against your wet skin, hips snapping savagely. "You want me to cream this cute little pussy while your mom is on the other side of that door crying for me?"

You mewl into his ear, pussy clenching around his cock and staining it with more of your cream. Seungcheol grunts, hips moving faster as he fucks into your hole deeper and harder. Your back arches as your cunt spasms around his dick.

"Want it so bad, daddy," you whimper into his ears, nails digging into his back. "Breed this little pussy. Stuff me full and knock me up."

"God damn, baby. You're such a dirty little slut," he whispers against your hot, wet skin. "What would your mom say if she walked in and saw you begging for my cum?"

You whine again, hips rocking into his as his thick cock pistons in and out of your hot cunt.

"What would you tell your wife?" You say through a fucked out giggle. "You'd have to tell her that you're bouncing her daughter on your big cock because you want to put a baby in her."

Seungcheol's deep moan almost drowns out your mother's voice.

"I know you're still mad, so I'll call you when I land. Please take care of Y/N while I'm away."

"Don't worry," Seungcheol growls, loud enough to be heard over the running water. "I'll make sure to take care of her."

You finally wail out in pleasure when you hear the footsteps fade away. Seungcheol savagely rams his cock against your sweet spot over and over until you're cumming hard on his throbbing dick.

"That's it, princess. Make a mess all over daddy's cock. Fuck. I'm gonna fill this cute little pussy all weekend long. Not letting you off my dick until I know you're carrying my child."

Your stepdad spears into your sloppy cunt harder, his leaking tip brushing against your g spot with every thrust. "Fuck, sweetheart. Little pussy feels too good."

With a loud grunt, he pushed his cock as deep as it'll go before thick, hot ropes of cum spurt from his throbbing tip. Seungcheol moans loudly, grinding his cock into your pulsing walls.

You smash your lips onto his, loving the feeling of his cum slowly dripping out of you.

The weekend is coming to an end, and true to his word, your stepdad has not let you off his cock. You've fucked all over the house just like you wanted. In the hot tub out back, then in the pool. On the billiards table and in the laundry room. Even on the kitchen counter and the dining room table. Every surface has been stained with you and Seungcheol's mixed releases. It thrills you because it feels like you're marking the house—your house—in the filthiest way possible.

Seungcheol has been especially doting, giving into every single one of your wishes. He even agreed to record the nasty things you do so you can watch it later on. The videos are mainly taken on your phone, but you have to insist that he take some on his too. After all, he should have some memories of the weekend he planned as well.

This is all so wrong. Seungcheol knows that, but he can't seem to make himself care. Especially when you look so beautiful underneath him, with your puffy nipples covered in his saliva and your fucked out expression of absolute pleasure. Especially when you moan and whimper the single word that makes him go insane every single time it falls from your pretty lips.

"Daddy!"

Fuck. To have his sweet little stepdaughter in such a filthy way is everything to him. His cock is buried so deep inside of you that he's certain he's in your guts. His teeth graze your neck as you cling to him. "Like this, angel? Like when your stepdad fucks you like this?"

A cute whine escapes you, but you can't answer because you're too far gone. Seungcheol thinks that you may be doing it on purpose for the camera, but either way, he loves it.

"Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me how good it feels," his whispered voice in your ear makes you shudder.

Your pussy clenches hard around his thick cock, wanting to keep him there forever.

"So fucking good. God, daddy. I'm gonna cum." Again.

You don't know how many times you've cum already, or if you've even stopped cumming. The entire weekend has felt like one prolonged orgasm for you.

You grab his hair and pull his face to yours, looking into his eyes. "Cum with me—cum inside me," you plead, your tongue flicking against his lips.

Seungcheol can't deny you anything. He never has. His hips speed up, his orgasm so close but he needs you to tip over first. The feeling of his stepdaughter creaming and making a mess on his cock is one he'll never get tired of.

"God, you're such a needy little brat," he groans against your lips. Words can't describe how much he loves you. How fucking thankful he is that you love him the same way. "Can't get enough of daddy's cum, hm?"

It only takes a few circles of his thumb on your clit and you're cumming with a loud whine.

"Daddy, please!" Your fingers dig into the skin of his back while you plead with him to fill you up. It's only a few seconds later that you're taking load after load of his thick cum.

"Mm, yes!" You mewl, closing your eyes, savoring the feeling of it.

Seungcheol kisses your lips, not daring to pull out. He doesn't want a single drop to escape.

"You got all of daddy's cum. Is my sweet girl happy now?"

You smile into the kiss as you catch your breath, looking at him adoringly, "Yes, daddy."

Seungcheol licks his lips hungrily and reaches for the phone propped against the nightstand. He points it at your stuffed cunt, groaning when he sees his cum running down the length of his cock and down to his heavy sack. Just as he’s about to end the video, you buck your hips with a needy whine.

“Want more, daddy!”

And so, ever powerless to your desires, Seungcheol positions your phone in the same spot before giving you exactly what you want. He’s not soft like he was earlier—not that you want him to be. You always act like a greedy brat when you want him to be rough with you.

“What a greedy fucking brat!” He punctuates every word with a rough thrust, eyes rolling to the back of his head as your sloppy hole keeps sucking him in.

“Fucking shit. You need it that bad, baby? Need daddy’s cock to stuff you full until you’re dripping in his cum?"

Seungcheol doesn't realize just how badly you do need it. Your hands reach down to squeeze his plump ass, dragging him as far into you as physically possible. “Yes, daddy, yes! Need your cock, need your cum! Need it so fucking bad!”

Your needy moans only drive him to fuck you harder. Seungcheol feels fucking insane. This is undoubtedly the best sex of his life, and he can’t remember ever fucking anyone so passionately. Fuck, you feel so good.

He’s so addicted to your sweet little cunt that he thinks he might go crazy without it. You just have a molten little pussy that’s sucking and wetting his cock so deliciously, dragging his cum right out of his heavy balls, and he’s powerless to it. All he can do is groan and bury his face in your neck as he pulses warm and hot inside you.

“O-oh fuck, baby!” Seungcheol moans against your skin as he spills his thick load inside you. “There you go, princess. Take all of daddy’s cum.”

Your sweet moans sound like heaven, and he has to smash his lips on yours as he fucks his cum deeper into your pussy. “Fuck. Such a tight fucking pussy.”

Seungcheol’s heart nearly bursts when you give him a fucked out smile, eyes full of adoration. “It’s all yours, daddy.”

If there's one thing you've come to learn about your stepdad, it's that he's unexpectedly clingy. Honestly, you love that side of him, which is why you can't say no when he asks you to cockwarm him. You're both sitting on the couch with some movie playing softly in the background. Seungcheol is on a business call while you shop online.

All the pretty things you have in your cart are courtesy of your doting stepdad, and as you go to check out, you feel yourself slowly drifting into a peaceful haze. Seungcheol keeps talking, running a soothing hand up and down your back while periodically placing gentle kisses on your head.

You bask in his warmth and the floaty feeling taking over your consciousness. Seungcheol's cock feels so big and thick inside you that it's all you can think about. The delicious stretch it provides is driving you crazy in the best way, and it only gets worse when he trails his free hand down to squeeze your ass. You mewl into his neck, loving this dreamlike state his cock has you in.

"Feel good, princess?"

His soothing voice is like honey, and it has you sighing against his neck, "So good, daddy."

Seungcheol's smirk is smug, "Yeah?"

You hum with a halfhearted nod, still too lost in the feeling of his cock filling you up.

"Spoiled little brat likes being stretched out on this big cock, huh?"

You whine cutely, pussy clenching down on his thick cock, "Yes, daddy."

"Fuck," Seungcheol grunts, pressing his hips up into you further. "I think it's time to fill this needy cunt."

You roll your hips down with a moan of agreement. It's just like him to give you what you want before you ask for it, "Daddy's the best."

Seungcheol's smirk is unbearably attractive as his hands tighten on your waist. He wastes no time in fucking his cock up into your soaking pussy, making sure to go as deep as possible. You come back to life as his big dick hits your sweet spot immediately. With a loud cry you lift yourself off of his chest to take off the large shirt you're wearing. Your stepdad groans when he sees your pretty tits bouncing in his face, cock twitching inside you.

After several skin slapping thrusts, he slows down to deep rolling grinds. His eyes are dark as he reaches for the buzzing phone he discarded just seconds ago.

"Be quiet for me, baby."

Your eyes drift down to the phone in his hand, smirking when you see it's your mom calling. Seungcheol picks up and put it on speaker, setting the phone aside so he can grab your bouncing tits.

"Hello?"

"Hey, honey." Your mom sounds deflated. "How... How are you?"

"Fine," Seungcheol grunts before he starts to thrust deeply into your dripping cunt while pulling and pinching your pretty nipples. "How's things over there?"

Your eyes roll back as you hear your mom go on about how happy your grandparents were to see her. Molten pleasure licks up your spine as you start to meet Seungcheol's rough thrusts. His mouth drops open as your pussy pulses and clenches around his cock.

"How's Y/N?" Your mom asks, but there's something off about her tone.

Immediately, you can tell she's not really interested in what you were up to. It's a tactic to keep him on the phone longer. Not that you care. You know she's not all that concerned since you're an adult and have your own life. It's why she only texted you once after landing.

"She's fine. We spent some time together earlier—just like I promised you." His voice drips with honey as he watches you fall apart on his cock.

You grin impishly as he drills up into your squelching pussy with his thick, heavy cock. Part of you wonders if she can hear the sound of skin on skin or the lewd squelching coming from your stuffed pussy. The thought turns you on so much that you have to tamper down the moan climbing up your throat. You feel like screaming because of how good you feel, and your stepdad just smirks at you like he isn't making a mess of you.

One of Seungcheol's hands slowly trails down your body to where you're connected. His thumb circles your clit slowly, barely giving you any stimulation. You buck your hips and push yourself harder into his hand, ever the impatient brat. He loves it, and yet he ignores your silent plea. Your stepdad stops teasing your sensitive bud and moves his hand to guide your hips into a rolling grind. The other goes to the fat of your ass, roughly squeezing and kneading the soft flesh.

"Thank you, honey," her tone is love stricken, and you wonder how she could easily fall back into his trap just like that. Part of you finds it funny while the other part of you feels disgusted.

"It means a lot to me that you care for her even when I'm not there."

Seungcheol smirks at you, leaning back to focus on your bouncing tits, "Of course. I have to care for our little princess even when you're not around."

You bite your lip when Seungcheol aggressively thrusts you down on his dick.

"So fucking tight." He hisses through clenched teeth.

"Well I'm grateful, even though I sometimes think she's a little too spoiled."

Both of his large hands are now cupping your ass, helping you bounce on this aching cock. His hungry gaze stares at the way your pretty pussy swallows his cock so perfectly. By now, he's sure your insides are shaped like him, and it just makes him twitch and throb inside you. He's so focused on watching his cock piston in and out of your tight hole that he almost misses his wife's question.

"Honey, are you done thinking now?"

Seungcheol doesn't answer her, instead choosing to spit on your sloppy pussy. You slow your bounces, tight cunt clenches at the action. Your stepdad smirks and does it again. He watches, completely satisfied as you shudder and roll your eyes to the back of your skull.

"No," He admits as you start to bounce on his dick again, "I'm still a little angry."

"Really?" Your mom can't hide her disappointment.

Seungcheol nearly loses it when you start to roll your hips sensually, fucking his cock exactly the way he likes it. Your thighs are starting to stick to his from the amount of wetness between you two. With a smug grin, you lean forward to give him a sloppy kiss.

"Let it all out, daddy," you whisper against his lips, "fill my pussy with your cum."

"Seungcheol?"

That annoying voice makes your stepdad fuck you harder, eager to give you what you both want.

"It's going to take some time. Some things don't just go away overnight."

Your stepdad keeps talking to your mom like you're not grinding your needy cunt on his fat cock. It's just making you more wet, and you can feel your arousal dripping down his balls and onto the nice couch. You have no doubt that it'll leave a stain, but that's the least of your worries right now. It turns you on so much to know that Seungcheol is fucking you while he's talking to his wife. You feel like such a slut, but you can't deny how much you like it.

You've never been so wet, and it makes you want to ride your stepdad harder, maybe even get caught. Your pussy spasms and clenches down on him at that thought, making him flinch and bite his lip.

Seungcheol slaps your ass with both hands and cages you against his chest. You muffle your cry of pleasure in his neck as he savagely starts to thrust into you like you're nothing more than a hole. His leaking cock is hitting inside you so deep and hard that it's not long before you cum all over his big cock.

The room smells of sex as he starts to bounce you on his sensitive cock all over again. Loud squelching and quiet whimpers fill the air as your stepdad helps you ride him. One last, milking compression of your silky pussy has him emptying his balls inside you. Seungcheol groans into your shoulder, hips never stopping.

"Okay. I understand," your mom sounds close to tears.

You don’t care. Instead, you start to move your hips to help her husband fuck his cum deeper into your fertile pussy. Your wetness and his cum seeping between your folds and down his veiny girth turns your skilled movements sloppy.

“Give me more, daddy,” you mewl, batting your eyelashes in that coy way he loves.

Seungcheol raises his body into more of a sitting position and roughly pulls you up and off of his cock. You watch dazedly as his dick drools with the remnants of your orgasm and his cum. You lick your lips at the filthy sight of his wet cock.

“Honey?”

Your mom’s voice sounds distant as her husband positions you over the armrest of the couch. He only hums in response as he slowly slides his fat cock back into your messy pussy. Your mouth drops open at the feeling. Once again he’s stretching you out so good that it has your pussy clenching down on him compulsively.

“Do…” She pauses. “Do you still love me?”

Seungcheol can’t focus on her pathetic words as he slowly starts to fuck your sloppy pussy. He can see the remnants of his cum being pushed out of you as his thrusts start to get rougher. Your warm walls cling to his cock desperately, wanting to milk him for all he’s worth.

“How could you ask me that?” Seungcheol mocks her dejected tone, though she doesn’t notice. “You’re the one that’s never home anymore. I’m starting to wonder if you still love me?”

It’s sick how good he is at gaslighting, but you don’t feel bad. In fact it turns you on. Like really fucking bad. Your pussy tightens around your stepdad’s cock which makes him angle his hips to have you biting down on the armrest to stifle your filthy moans. He fucks into your sweet spot as pleasure whites out any coherent thoughts you have.

“Of course I do!” Your mom sounds shrill and distraught, so much that she can’t hear how good her husband is fucking you. How he’s splitting you open on the nice couch she picked out when they first got married. “How could you think—?”

“Let’s talk about it when you come home,” Seungcheol says through gritted teeth, eyes focused on how your pretty ass is bouncing back on his pelvis. “You’re upset, and this is a conversation we need to have in person.”

The pathetic okay sounds distant, and you vaguely catch her saying I love you to Seungcheol before he abruptly hangs up the phone without saying it back.

“Goddamn,” Seungcheol groans as disregards his phone, “trying to suck me in, sweetheart? Greedy little pussy needs daddy's cock that bad?"

He pounds into your sloppy, squelching hole when you loudly moan and nod. Your juices are dripping everywhere, and he fucking loves it. The swollen tip of his cock hammers against your g-spot until you’re screaming for him. Seungcheol smirks, knowing you were just waiting to let it all out.

"I fucking knew it," He groans with an endeared laugh.

"Don’t worry, princess. Daddy’s gonna cream this sweet fucking pussy. Get you all dirty so I can eat you out."

You whine and claw at the couch, clit rubbing against the rough material and pushing you closer and closer to orgasm. By now your legs are shaking from the sheer pleasure his big cock is giving you.

"Should I make you squirt on my cock, sweetheart? Get the couch all dirty?"

You start to bounce yourself back on his cock eagerly, "Daddy, gonna cum!"

Seungcheol grins and affectionately squeezes your sides before his hand slips down to your clit. He tugs your hips back just a little and lands a hard spank across your swollen bud. You squeal loudly, body trembling at the mean action.

"Daddy!"

"Oh, I know,” His voice drips with lust, "you know daddy can’t help but be a little rough with your little pussy."

Your stepdad smacks you again catching your clit on his wedding ring making you scream as your orgasm rushes over you. Slick drips around his cock as your cunt clamps down on his dick. You whine and move your hips in tandem with his, loving how intense this one is.

"Fuck!" Seungcheol growls, hips pistoning harder into your fluttering walls.

“Such a good girl. My good little brat—fuck!"

Your cunt milks his cock as he fills you with hot sticky cum. His thrusts start to get sloppy as he spills rope after rope into your hot cunt.

"Take it," he hisses, biting down hard on your shoulder causing you to moan, pussy clamping down even harder on his dick.

You’re crying out loudly from how good it feels, hole still gushing slick from his fat cock bullying into your pussy and cumming deep inside you. This load is the biggest he’s ever given you. Somehow he doesn’t stop cumming. It feels like stream after stream of his hot seed paints every inch of your fluttering walls white.

"Gonna eat you out after this," Seungcheol groans in your ear, "need to get my mouth on your messy little pussy."

You whine as he pulls out, cum and slick oozing from your hole to drip all down your thighs and onto the couch. Without moving you, Seungcheol lays on his back and shifts until he's underneath your splayed legs.

"Sit on my face, baby," he guides your hips down, “let your stepdad clean the mess he made.”

With a harsh tug, your cunt presses down on his awaiting mouth. His nose bumps against your clit as his eager tongue licks into your sensitive pussy. You feel him moan against your wetness, wasting to time in lapping up the cum he’s left inside you. The filthy action makes you rock against his soft lips. You grab onto his hair and start riding his face gently since you're still reeling from your previous orgasm.

"Daddy!" You cry out as he fucks his tongue deeper into your hole. "Feels so fucking good! Fuck—mhm."

You trail off with a whine as he sucks on your pussy lips and nips at your clit. He greedily eats all the cum out of your messy cunt. Mewling, you press yourself harder on Seungcheol’s face. He groans gutturally when you settle further onto his mouth. Your stepdad grinds his mouth against your puffy cunt making you whine louder, clit throbbing with arousal. He rubs his nose against the sensitive bundle of nerves making you buck into the feeling.

Arousal gushes out of you as your stepdad continues to eat your pussy, and you don’t realize you’re on the verge of another orgasm until you’re squirting all over his face. Seungcheol groans in satisfaction, lapping up every stream that gushes out of your hot little cunt.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Your back arches in a perfect curve as Seungcheol laps up all of your creamy slick.

Of course, Seungcheol only moans along with you and presses even further into your cunt, practically suffocating himself to taste you more. He’ll never get enough of your addicting taste, and you looked back to see his cock hard and throbbing, leaking with so much precum that it looks painful.

When he finally finishes, you don’t let him get up despite the fact that your legs are too shaky to hold your weight. Seungcheol lays back, curious about your next moves. He moans loudly when you crawl down his sweaty body and take his aching cock into your soft hands.

“My turn to have a taste, daddy.”

You don’t give him a chance to say anything before you push the drippy tip of his cock past your swollen lips. His loud moan makes your cunt pulse. It makes you swirl your tongue around his sensitive head before licking down the rest of his dirty cock. You can taste yourself, and that just turns you on even more.

"Gonna make me cum in your mouth, sweetheart," he groans, watching your lips stretch around his hard cock.

You keep your eyes on him as you sink your hot mouth on his pulsing cock. He’s so big, too big to fit all of him in your mouth. Not that you care. Sucking him off always gets you so wet. Especially because you can tell how much he loves it.

"Fuck. You gonna swallow the rest of daddy’s cum, baby?" Seungcheol grins at you as you moan around his dick.

“You like that? It’s gonna feel so good, baby. Daddy's hot cum pouring down your slutty throat."

You whine, reaching down to your sore cunt to rub your clit. His filthy words always turn you on so much, and he fucking knows it. You can tell by the way he smirks.

"That turn you on, sweetheart?" He chuckles as you slide his cock deeper into your mouth. Seungcheol pulls out a few inches and sinks back down into you making you moan as he fills your throat.

"Play with that cute pussy. I want you to cum all over your fingers while I fuck your mouth."

You continue to moan as you take his cock further down your throat.

"God, baby, I'm about to cum," his hips stutter, "Be a good girl and swallow every last drop for daddy. Milk my cock just how I like."

Your fingers circle and rub your clit faster until you're moaning uncontrollably around his length. Seungcheol’s eyes roll back at the vibrations he feels on his dick. He moans your name, and that’s all it takes to have you cumming, hole clenching down on nothing as slick drips from your pussy.

With a low groan, Seungcheol eases out of your mouth until you can only suckle on the fat head of his dick. Hot sticky ropes of cum fill your mouth and the back of your throat in the next second. Your stepdad grins when you take his cock and slowly sink it further into your mouth. You moan at the feeling of cum dripping down the back of your throat. Eagerly, you swallow and milk his throbbing cock for all it’s worth.

Seungcheol pulls out of your mouth completely but leaves his swollen tip pressed to your lips, “finish cleaning daddy’s cock, sweetheart."

You press a gentle kiss on his sensitive head before giving it a shy kitten lick that drives him crazy. After he’s satisfied, he pulls you off his cock and sits back on the couch before pulling you into his lap.

Seungcheol kisses you, tongue sloppily licking into your mouth. You moan happily, unable to get enough of him.

"You’re so good for me, baby," your stepdad mumbles after he pulls away, "always such a good girl."

After you’re done, Seungcheol carries you to your room. He cleans you up in your bathroom, tenderly cleaning every part of your body before washing himself. Once he’s done, he makes sure to dress you in your favorite sleep shirt before joining you in your bed.

“Daddy,” you hum as he nuzzles his face into your neck, “love you.”

“Me too, princess,” he hums, arms tightening around you.

“Don’t want this to end,” you say sleepily before finally drifting off into a lovely dream.

Seungcheol hums in agreement, staying up longer to contemplate.

Now that he’s had a taste of what it would be like to have you without anyone getting in the way, he knows he won’t be able to go back. And so, in his deeply twisted mind he starts to plot how he’s going to make that happen. Of course, he’ll have to run his plans by you before attempting anything, but he knows you won’t have any objections.

Seungcheol drifts off to sleep, happily dreaming of a life where it’s just you and him.

[cregansdingdong]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ ɪꜱ ꜰɪɴᴇ.

Cregan Stark x pregnant!fem!reader | no use of y/n | warnings: pregnancy fluff, the tooth rotting kind <3

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“There you are.”

There he was. Watching from the threshold of their marriage doors—the only separation between their traditional chambers—Cregan gazes over the form of his bare wife, who was enjoying a nice bath in her alcove. His eyes moved slowly, deliberately, taking her in and committing her to his memory like it was the very first time. A sleepy smile graced her perfect face, head leaned back against the edge of the tub. Just barely breaking the surface of the water was her stomach, rounded and taut with his child; her wrist had been resting on it as he entered, a letter held loosely in her hand. “I am.” He murmured, feeling himself relax just at the sight of her, and he crossed the room to sit on the chair by the tub. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better now. Jace wrote to me.” She holds out the small paper to him. Cregan hums at the mention of her brother, and his eyes scan the words on the page, quietly snorting after a few moments of reading—he was as funny as he always was. Nothing new, really, in the letter. He’d mostly asked about how his sister was faring, questions about the pregnancy, and gushing over his coming nuptials to Baela. But it all brought a smile to his wife’s face anyway. Cregan felt guilty sometimes, knowing how far Winterfell was from King’s Landing. She missed her family often, but even more now that she was having a child. “He’s eager to be an uncle.” He muses, handing it back to her. “The second he learns the babe is born, he’ll be outside our quarters pouting.”

“Yes he will.” She laughs and places it off to the side. “Only a few weeks more.” Cregan peers down at her stomach, expression softened now, his hand reaching out to gently pet her bump, fingers caressing the skin. “The water is almost cold.” He notes, a slight chide in his tone. His wife nods along, obviously aware. “Mmhm. The maesters say hot baths aren’t too good for the baby—warm is fine, but it becomes tepid fairly quickly. I’m comfortable though, I promise. Supper was divine. I was craving that stew all day. And grapes, but mostly the stew. I missed you.” A pleased smile lifts the corners of his lips at her soft ramble. He loved hearing her speak—just as much as she liked to prattle his ears blue. “I assure you, wife, I missed you even more. You and our babe. How is she doing?”

“Are you truly still convinced we're going to have a girl?” She muses. Cregan gently splashes her in mock offense, tutting lightly at her teasing. “I know we're having a girl. I can feel it in my bones, wife.” He leans in, pressing a less-than-chaste kiss against her mouth, tongue just barely slivering past her supple lips. She tasted like something sweet. “Cake?” He asks, head tilted even though it wasn't really a question. She grins. “Sara brought the letter up here—and sneaked me some frosted scones from the kitchen. I love your sister.” Cregan rolls his eyes. “I should've known you two would scheme behind my back…and not leave me any. I'm your leige-Lord.” His wife reaches out to pull him in again, not satisfied with the previous kiss, and their mouths clash together nearly with a mutual clack of their teeth. "Get in." She was pulling him down into the jasmine scented water, hands fiercely tugging at the laces of his leather doublet. "This water is so damn cold—" He barely had a moment to remove his boots. "You'll be fine." What Lady Stark wants, she gets.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: Was missing my baby so I decided to type this up <3 Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Katsuki’s down bad but to be fair, so are you lol, you’ve been married for over a year, you two live together, pre-established relationship, anti social Katsuki, you have a lot of Dynamight merch, Katsuki publically simps for you <3, f!reader, Katsuki refers to you as his wife and vice versa, reader’s a little childish lol

Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

•────•°•❀•°•──── ᴛᴇᴅᴅʏ ʙᴇᴀʀ ────•°•☁︎•°•────•

It's no surprise that Bakugou loves to talk about you, his pretty wife.

Ever since the two of you got married, the public could definitely see the impact you had on him- even though you didn't come fully public with your marriage. He's kinder now, softer in a way, still the powerful hero he used to be, if not even stronger, but he's not the same person who flips off a camera once paparazzi flock to him after a mission.

Instead he gives a slight nod of acknowledgement before moving on- he had places to be.

Places being back home, to you, in your awaiting arms, where you would greet him with a smile that could heal the world of its sins if it wanted to, a smile that to him, was the purest and most beautiful thing in the world.

Bakugou Katsuki wasn't a man who truly believed someone was better than him, having enough confidence in himself to become was he was not with enough determination, but you...

You were his heaven, his haven, his home. You were the sun and the moon, and land and the sea, everything beautiful in the world, it was you.

And the whole world could tell. Probably even extra terrestrial species on other galaxies.

Well, everyone but you.

You, being the absolute angel you are, didn't think of yourself that way. You were just… you - trying to achieve your goals and have a happy life, alongside your Katsuki, who you'd support no matter what, and him, you.

You knew Katsuki loved you, of course you did- though the blonde wasn't well versed when it came to expressing his feelings through words, he was more than adequate in showing it through his actions instead.

You probably wouldn't be able to even comprehend the amount of love Katsuki held in his heart for you.

Until one special night that is.

Katsuki's been invited to one of your favorite talk shows, and after a lot of convincing ( read: pleading ) he gave in. He couldn't say no to you anyways.

Katsuki had left for the filming a while ago, leaving you to deck out in your limited edition Dynamight merch while turning on the TV to watch your husband.

The familiar opening plays and you see the set of the show you always loved to watch- pride warming your heart as you see your beloved on the screen.

"Live from Tokyo, it's your host, Seiko Nishimura and tonight, we're here with the only and only, Pro Hero Dynamight!- also known as Bakugou Katsuki."

Your husband nods, and mumbles out a "Thanks for havin' me." and you feel your heart melt at his adorable attempt to be social on camera.

Seiko grins, and turns to her stack on notecards nodding to the audience. "Well, I've got a set of questions from the audience all around the world! And we've got a lot, so let's get right to it!"

The night goes on smoothly enough, with Katsuki answering questions about his career and his schedules signing events that were coming up. You hug your Dynamight themed teddy bear closer to your chest as you feel overflowing love for your husband. You were more than proud of him, overcoming trauma from his high school years and bad habits that you know still plague him to this day, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. He overcame it all- and you were just truly happy to be by his side.

All the questions are relatively the same- nothing really sparking your absolute interest (your focus was really just on Katsuki and how stupidly good he looked in his muscle shirt and cargos, matched with glossy jet black Prada boots)- until Seiko asks a question that makes you perk up.

"Many fans have noticed a ring around the chain you always wear when you're out fighting - do you perhaps have a special someone at home?" the host asks with a cheeky grin, expecting the blonde to give a flustered outburst but instead, Katsuki shows a hint of real emotion for the first time that night, a small genuine smile stretching across his face.

He takes out the chain in question, and runs his callused thumb over his fondly.

"Yeah, I gotta wife at home" he says, love seeping into his gruff voice. "She's probably on the couch watching this with that stupid Dynamight bear she got me for our last anniversary."

You gasp and look at your bear incredulously. "He did not call you stupid." you grumble, hiding half of your face into the plush of the stuffed animal but still peek over it to watch the screen.

You felt giddy, like a schoolgirl- wondering what Katsuki would say about you on live television. It was silly, you knew- but even after all these years Katsuki still had you flustered like he did all the way back when you were both sixteen.

"Damn woman uses that thing more than I do." he grumbles playfully and sighs."But...I don't think I would be where I am today without her."

You feel your cheeks heat, unable to be tear your eyes away from your husband on the screen.

"She's my rock, the breath in my lungs, the blood in my veins, the fire the keeps my goin'- I don't think I'd ever be able to tell her how much I really do love her."

You feel unbelievably hot, overwhelmed by love and affection even though he's not here with you. A watery smile forms on your face as you wipe away the tears that slip down your face.

You hold the teddy bear tight, breathing in Katsuki's scent- though he claims that you use it more than he does, know you that he sleeps with it whenever you're away.

Katsuki never failed to make you feel loved, through his actions, and right now, through his words too.

ʙᴏɴᴜꜱ:

this was one of the 247 posts Mina and Ejirou sent you the day after- Katsuki didn’t leave the bedroom once he saw, taking the teddy bear to cover his red face

[kihyunsflavor]

I belong to you

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x f!reader

Summary: Your house unknown but a high-born and a Bene Gesserit, you get wed to the na-baron of Giedi Prime, Feyd-Rautha. It´s not easy with him and his darlings, but after some time it seems you are much to his liking. Is there a soft side hidden inside Feyd, only for his wife to see or will he treat you the same as any servant?

Warnings: arranged marriage (like all of them lol), smut, violent behavior, breeding kink, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, mentions of knives and blood, size kink

Word count: 3.5k

Authors note: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes. Hope you like it <3

The bed was comfortable and soft, much different than the room itself with his stony, cold walls and the black interior. You were not asleep, just lying in bed with closed eyes. The current situation making you uneasy and sleep didn’t come easily. Next to that were the people standing in your room. You felt their preying eyes on your body even though the blanket covered you fully. It was Feyd-Rautha, your newlywed husband, with his darlings. There were three of them, being his concubines for quite some time. 

“She is rather ugly.” One girl spoke up, not even caring to whisper her words. They probably wanted you to hear it anyways. “Next to that she is a witch.” The other hissed. Feyd stayed quiet but you knew he had a big smile plastered on his face. You didn’t move nor open your eyes, you wanted to know why they suddenly decided to pay you a visit at this hour. Your husband hasn’t been in your chambers before, not even after marriage did he share the bed with you. He was spending time with his darlings and only having this annoying black teethed grin on his face when you ran into him.

“I think she is awake, Feyd. The witch listened to us since we came here.” 

The room was dark, no light coming through the big windows. This planet was very dim, caused by the industrial pollution and their black sun. One of the reasons why you missed your home planet so much. There you had fields of green grass, blue skies and people were dressed in colorful clothes. It was a warm planet, like spring and autumn combined. 

You opened your eyes and stared at the little group in your chamber. Your expression cold, showing no emotion. Feyd and his darlings kept your gaze, amusement hiding behind their eyes. Slowly, you sat up glancing shortly at the clock next to your bed. It was 2 am. “What is the reason you came into my room at this hour, my Lord?” You asked, annoyance showing through your voice. Again, this grin on his face. He hasn’t shared many words with you since you arrived on Giedi Prime. All you ever dream of is this exact expression. 

“My darlings wanted to take a look at my little present.” Present? No, you were not just a mere gift to him, but right now Feyd sought only to demean you.

He sat down on the edge of the bed to your feet, his eyes never leaving your face. He wanted to drink up every expression you were going to show him. But there was nothing. You had trained long, you were good at it. Instead, you shifted your eyes to his three concubines. They all looked pretty similar, only one of them had a big black bar on her forehead. Their skin was white, eyes fully black and their heads shaved, not a single hair on their body just like Feyd. You had heard they were the beauties of Giedi Prime - and they fed on human flesh. 

“I have been here for two months now. Did they not have the chance to take a look at me yet?” You replied. Feyd shifted next to you and your eyes fell back on him. He didn’t like the tone you were using. “Careful wife, that´s not how you speak to me.” You mustered his face, he appeared to be displeased by your reaction, not expecting you to talk back like this. He was a scary man, unpredictable and violent, but you were not an ordinary girl. Trained in the way of the Bene Gesserit, you mastered the Voice. There was no way you would give yourself that easily to him. “I apologize, husband.” Seconds later, there was a knife sitting at your throat. The cold blade grazed your skin lightly, but still breaking it enough to release tiny drops of blood. You were surprised by his sudden reaction and leaned back. Holding your chin high, you did not break eye contact with Feyd´s dark blue eyes. “You better shut your mouth!” 

It was a command. He wanted you to submit, making it clear he had full control over you. However, you simply stared back at him, not moving a muscle. This made him angry, but he didn’t change the pressure of his hold. “Do you want me to cut your neck, little mouse? I could slice you up right in this moment.” The grin wandered back on his face, making you uneasy. He was enjoying the thought of making you bleed. You replied after a while, choosing your next words carefully. “I will give myself to you completely, but it will be out of my own will, not through force, na-Baron.”

Feyd´s expression went blank for a second. He sensed something in you, something he hasn’t been confronted with before. Now snarling he said “You better do as I say, wife. I won´t think twice about staining these sheets red with your blood.” A soft smile appeared on your lips; it was not to tease him. With a calmer voice you replied “No, you won´t treat me like this. I am your wife, not a mere servant you command. I will submit to you, but you need to earn my respect first.”

During this whole time the three concubines just stood there watching you and Feyd. There was so much tension in the air, that they didn’t dare to interfere. But then Feyd leaned back on his heels and the knife left your throat. You straightened your back and touched your skin where it had been broken softly. Tiny droplets of blood stained your fingers, but it was not much. Suddenly one of the concubines dropped to her knees next to the bed. She looked at your fingers with pleading eyes. “Let me taste your blood, please.” You starred at her confused than back at your fingers. Thinking about all possibilities what could go wrong if you let her do it, you finally decided to let her lick your fingers clean. Reaching out to her, she immediately leaned forward to lap at them. For a second you looked back at Feyd, who carried his usual smile, enjoying the situation in front of him. But in the next moment the girl kneeling on the ground raised rapidly and tasted the fresh wound on your neck. 

“Go away!” Stripped of control over her own body, the concubine moved away from you. She blinked disorientated, trying to figure out what just had happened. 

“How dare you?!” The other concubines hissed, dripping with spite. Feyd was showing not a single emotion in his face. You directed your next words to the concubines. “You ask me how I dare? I don’t think I gave her permission to touch my neck.” Those standing looked to Feyd for help and protection, yet his gaze remained solely fixed on you. “Do you think you are better than us? We have been here for a long time. You are just a foreign girl.” They started to argument, but you interrupted them. “Yes, I think I am better. You may have been in his care for ages, but who is the one that will bear his heir? It will only be me.” Your response silenced them.

The room was quiet, you watched Feyd taking in your words. It appeared as though a realization washed over him, yet he wouldn’t let it go so easily. 

The knife returned to your throat, this time softer, drawing no blood. “I don’t like the way you treat my darlings. You are not yet with child, wife.” His eyes flickering between your eyes and lips. “And why is that?" You retorted sharply. "If you had devoted more time to me after our marriage, I might be carrying an heir now. But instead, you choose to spend your days and nights with them.” If he wanted to play a game, you certainly wouldn't hesitate to participate. 

There was anger and fury dancing in his eyes, yet nestled behind it, timid and faint, was attraction. You almost had him at your grasp. “And why is it that you have an issue with my behavior towards your concubines, but overlook their insults and disrespect towards me? This is not how I imagined Feyd-Rautha, the na-Baron, to treat his wife.” 

Feyd was taken aback by your words and let his hand with the knife sink down. You both held each other's gaze for a while, almost as if engaged in a silent communication through your eyes. It felt as though he had finally comprehended the entirety of the situation. Slowly, you tilted your head to the side, offering your throat to him in submission. It was the gesture he had been seeking - a sign of surrender. In the next moment you heard the knife hit the ground with a sharp clink and his raspy deep voice, dismissing the concubines.

Soft, wet lips immediately left a trail of kisses along your exposed neck. He made a grunting noise while inhaling your scent. You shifted your arms and laid flat on your back, opening your legs so he could just fit nicely in between them. Feyd made a noise of appreciation and continued his assault on your skin. “My dear little wife, being so obedient now.” When whispering, his voice sounded much deeper. It turned you on. His hands found your clothed breasts, squeezing them roughly, but as your hand caressed the back of his head calmly, he softened his touch. He raised his head and locked eyes with you before kissing you for the second time, since you arrived on this planet. 

The blanket was fully gone now, thrown into the last part of the bed. Your nightdress pulled up, so his hands had free access to your naked skin. Feyd enjoyed tracing the curves of your body, savoring every glimpse he could get of you. “Yes, so pretty like that. You like it too, don’t you, little mouse?” He grinned and his face moved closer to your face again to fully capture your expression in this dimly lit room. “I like it very much, husband.” “Feyd. Say my name.” His lips lingered over yours, waiting for it. “I like it very much, Feyd.” You repeated. A growl leaving his throat, he pressed his lips to yours. 

His right hand wandered down to your clothed cunt. He brushed over it, making you whine into his mouth. He grinned, slipping his hand underneath your panties and gliding his fingers through your heat. “You´re so wet, my dear. Is that all for me?” A moan escaped your mouth at his words. Oh how his deep voice and words turned you on. You were sure, he could make you come just with it alone. Not trusting your voice, you nodded. He watched you, as his fingers played with your sensitive area. Gradually, he lowered his lips, planting kisses along your cleavage, grazing over your nipples, and trailing down to your stomach. His fingers slipped under the waistband of your lace panties. “They are so pretty, but unfortunately, they have to go.” Feyd remarked.

After they were thrown onto the floor, Feyd leaned down between your legs, placing small kisses on your inner thighs. You arched your back at the pleasure and quiet whimpers escaped your throat. Feyd made his way to your pussy and gave it a lick, making you shudder. “You like that?” He grinned suggestively at you, revealing his black teeth. But he didn´t wait for an answer, instead he ravished you like a starving man. His big hands were placed on either side of your hips to keep you pressed into the mattress, since it was difficult for you to stay still. Quickly, two fingers entered you, moving slowly. Your moans grew louder, searching hands buried themselves in the black sheets. “I am going to come, Feyd!” Goosebumps spread all over your body, you were so close to your release. “Then come, little mouse!” He commanded and you let yourself go fully. It was a climax like you never had before when touching yourself alone. Your husband was definitely very skilled. 

After you had calmed down a little, Feyd loomed over you. His lips found yours again and he rutted against your body. Even though he was still clothed, you could feel how turned on he was. “Gonna have my way with you now, yea?” He chuckled, leaning back to pull his pants down. Your eyes widened at his length and thickness, as you starred at his dick. You began to worry how it was going to fit inside you. Feyd saw the change in your expression and bend back down, holding himself up with one arm next to your head, while the other pumped his cock slowly. “Don´t worry, dear. I will be gentle.” He planted a kiss to the tip of your nose and you locked eyes with him. His now gentle and tender actions made you wonder, if it was just a tactic to make you trust him. Despite this uncertainty, you didn´t sense any unease in your gut. 

You gave him a shy smile and your hands found his strong shoulders. “Will you put this off as well? I want to see you.” Your words amused him, he enjoyed the way you behaved. “Everything my little wife wants.” He answered proudly, feeling his ego boosted and leaning back to remove his shirt. You mustered his pale skin - it was white like snow. Curious fingers grazed over his muscles, Feyd placed his hand over yours. It made you feel safe. There was no longer anger or violence directed towards you.

You gazed at each other for a while, neither of you feeling the need to break eye contact. It was easier to read his emotions now, and it was clear that he wanted the same thing as you did. You freed your hand out of his hold and placed it on his strongly erected member. Gently, you started stroking him. Feyd closed his eyes and tilted his head back from the pleasure he was feeling. You tightened your grip, precome dripping out of the tip. It was such an arousing view. 

Suddenly Feyd gripped your wrists and placed them over your head. “I want to come inside you, little mouse.” He breathed huskily in your ear. You didn’t mind this at all, finally feeling his touch on your body was exhilarating. You had always desired his attention. 

There was some impatience in his movements now. Feyd stared at your naked body underneath him, while his free hand positioned your hips at the perfect angle. You felt yourself clamping down on nothing, wanting to be filled up by his pretty cock. “My love, you look irresistible. You won´t be getting any sleep tonight.” His husky voice sent shivers down your spine, excitement bubbling in your stomach. Before he entered you, he freed your wrists out of his grasp to support his own weight. You panicked for a second as it seemed like he was going to lean back, and you really disliked not having him close in this vulnerable situation. Feyd smiled, his face only mere inches from yours. “I'm not going anywhere.” He reassured you with his raspy voice and captured your lips.

Kissing him shifted your focus away from the pain between your legs, as he pushed inside your tight hole. “Doing so good for me, doll.” He hushed your whimpers, pressing you closer to his warm body. You felt safe in his arms, being able to relax completely. After he was fully sheathed inside you, he let you adjust to his size.

Blinking slowly, you opened your eyes and looked at him. His eyes were already fixed on your features. Small praises left his lips, before he loosened his hug on you and brought his arms next to your head. You felt so small when he was hovering over you like this. Not long after, Feyd started to move his hips. First, he was gentle and slow but as your moans grew louder, he quickened his pace. Your hands wandered over his wide, muscled back, fingernails causing small scratches to appear. The pain spurned him on. “They gave me such a perfect wife, taking me so well.” Your husband praised and placed a kiss on your forehead. You shuddered and felt your release being close. Feyd´s thrusts started to become sloppy and unsteady as well. He cursed under his breath and bit into your shoulder. You squeaked at the sudden pain. “Feyd, I am close.” You whispered. He lifted his head again and grinned. “Good girl, yea… I am close too.” He growled, his eyes turning even darker. You caught a glimpse of primal instinct in them, like you were his prey. “Come for me whenever you are ready, little mouse.”

Feyd pulled out completely, only his tip touching your entrance slightly. Then in a fast movement, he pushed inside again, going in so deep his dick kissed your cervix. You made a startled sound and in the next moment could only moan. He was hitting all the right places, which made you come hard. Your back arched off the mattress, while moaning your husband’s name in bliss. Feyd had waited for your climax until he let himself go and filled you up with his seed. “So good... so good for me.” He rasped, out of breath, still coming down from his high. 

You had closed your eyes, only opening them when Feyd was moving over you. He had leaned back on his heels. One hand was placed protectively over your stomach, while the other held up your leg. He watched his cum drip out of your pussy. When his attention returned to your face, he grinned slyly. “Not done with you yet.” You were quickly turned around on all fours. “Yes, stay like that.” Feyd´s body was pressed into your back and his dick rubbed on your ass. He was growing bigger and bigger every second. Calloused fingers found their way into your hair and he tugged harshly on it. “Going to fill you up again. That´s what you wanted, am I right, little mouse?” You could hear how much he enjoyed teasing you.

There was no time for a reply, as he pushed inside of you with ease and you couldn’t surpress the moan that escaped you at the feeling of the stretch. The sensation nearly stole your breath away and Feyd immediately set a rapid pace. In this angle he felt significantly larger and deeper than before. All you could manage were small whimpers in response to the overwhelming sensation. 

Feyd´s free hand, that was placed on your waist, landed a sharp slap on one of your cheeks. The pain made you hiss through clenched teeth and you turned your head slightly to look back at him. Pleasure and lust were written on his face and when you caught his eyes, a smirk appeared. “Don’t look at me like this, love. I know you liked it, clenching down on me so tightly.” He pulled your hair back, forcing you to sit up. Your back was pressed against his chest when he whispered into your ear. “Tell me how much you like it.”

A shudder went down your spine and you whined. He was so deep inside of you. With a shaky hand you pressed down on your lower belly to feel the bulge Feyd was creating. “It feels really good-ah!” You answered him. “You like it, when I fuck you like this, little mouse?” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “Yes, yes Feyd.” Seconds later your orgasm approached and you came hard on his cock. Soft lips were gently pressed to your cheek, while you tried to catch your breath. Even though his thrusts were harsh, abusing your insides, he still handled you with care.

His pace didn’t falter as he was hunting his own release. Your body went limp, but he held you up on strong arms, moving you back on dick. And again, he filled you up with a huge amount of his seed. 

He actually stayed true to his word of not letting you sleep the whole night. When a faint light filtered through the windows, signaling the arrival of morning, you had just reached your 5th or 6th climax. You weren't even sure because, at some point, logical thoughts ceased to form in your head.

Feyd laid you down gently as your eyes were closed from tiredness. He had fetched a wet cloth to wipe you clean. The coolness was soothing against your feverish skin. After he finished, you felt the mattress sink in as he laid down next to you. Protective hands wrapped around your middle, pulling you close to his body. "Mine," he whispered softly and placed a tender kiss on your temple. If you weren't going to fall pregnant after this night, you didn’t even know what to believe in anymore. 

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley Date Night Things

A/n: I wanna bet all my money that this will do better than my series ever will because ya'll have such short attention spans (Like me), honestly it's just difficult for me to see people who have like 9k+ notes when before I ended up at 2k at least, and now I'm stuck at 100+. Thinking of giving that up, I'm never satisfied with just a 3-digit number, let alone the number starting below 5. Anyway, something to feed my children <3

My CoD Masterlist <3

Please check out My Series 🥺

Husband!Simon Riley who is enamored whenever he sees you getting ready for a date night, he avoids reservations as much as possible when planning it, so you have as much time you need to get ready.

Husband!Simon Riley who loves watching from the bed as you're putting on your preferred lip product at the time, (which he always takes pride since it happens to be the one he recently bought for you) all the while you're bouncing your baby girl on your hip.

Husband!Simon Riley who tries his best to entertain your other little ones, emphasis on "tries" because he can't stop staring at his gorgeous wife who takes her time and effort just to doll up for him.

Husband!Simon Riley who also volunteers to take the baby when he hears you huff and readjust her on your hip when you're trying so hard to make sure your blush is even.

Husband!Simon Riley who's only ever made an Instagram account to like your posts which mostly consist of you, him, your babies and pet/s. He only has you (and maybe Gaz? Due to a lost bet) followed, granted he has Soap on his follow requests but he's currently messing with him by ignoring it.

Husband!Simon Riley who always leaves little comments on your posts in response to your very long captions during anniversaries. He insists that you post him more.

Husband!Simon Riley who "hires" Uncle Gaz as a babysitter because it saves him money, as much as Kyle insists that Simon doesn't have to pay, Simon gives him a little something. The kids adore him! (Simon doesn't trust Johnny with the kids anymore after he found out from you that Johnny overcharged him because he had no idea about the average prices)

Husband!Simon Riley who only lets you sit across from him for the pictures because you claim that it looks better that way, as soon as you're done, you better get your ass on the seat next to him before he flips out. He hates it when you're too far from his reach, "Lovie, sit back here please".

Husband!Simon Riley who notices how some of the men from the restaurant stare at the way your outfit complimented your figure, how the necklace he gifted drew attention to the perfect cleavage your dress showed off. So, he drapes his coat over you because he'd be damned before he lets another ogle at his wife. (He may or may not be glaring at them all the while)

Husband!Simon Riley who after a nice night out, also bought your daughters separate, smaller bouquets so that they won't be jealous that mommy has flowers, but they don't. Flowers for all his girls <3

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @duck-a-doodle @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @poohkie90 @drewsmusee @sommii @yveevie

[fluentmoviequoter]

The Better, Hidden Half

Requested Here!

Part 2 Here >

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader (takes place in The Rookie 1x20-2x1)

Summary: Tim doesn't tell just anyone that he's married. When he's quarantined and his life is threatened by a fatal virus, he asks Lucy to call you, and ends up showing everyone what you mean to him.

Warnings: angst, fluffy comfort at the end, spoilers for episodes 1x20 and 2x1 (this is basically a rewrite, but still includes a brief reference to the suicide line from Tim). reader stress cleans?

A/N: The anxiety/stress cleaning bit is completely self-indulgent; sorry. I tried to manipulate Tim's conversations with Lucy to make them sound more platonic (I don't know if it worked though). I absolutely love this idea and had a ton of fun writing it!🤍

Word Count: 3.9k+ words

Tim Bradford is a man of few words, and he keeps his life separated into two distinct areas: work life and personal life. He tried to bring the two together once, but hated the constant worry that someone from his work life would threaten to hurt people in his personal life or worse, act on their threats. For that reason, for his family’s safety, Tim keeps his life separated, and only a choice few have been chosen to be trusted with a glimpse of both sides of Tim. Angela, Wade, and on occasion, Bishop, see a side of Tim that doesn't exist when he's at work.

✯✯✯✯✯

“How is she?” Angela asks, sitting beside Tim for roll call.

Tim rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “I trained her, I’m sure she did fine. Better than your golden boy boot, anyway.”

Angela smiles and leans in to whisper, “Didn’t mean Chen.” She turns her attention to Jackson, calling, “80 might be the passing grade, boot, but if you don’t get at least a 90, you should turn in your badge on general principle.”

Tim leans forward to add, “Officer Chen, I will take it as a personal insult if you get anything less than a 93.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucy answers. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do with all your new free time? Might I suggest a book club?”

Angela elbows Tim under the table, and he glances at her quickly, giving her a displeased stare which only makes her work harder to hide her smile.

“What are you talking about?” Tim asks.

“You know, after I pass, there won’t be any more daily evaluations to write.”

“Whether I evaluate you daily or weekly, I will continue to judge you every minute. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

As Grey enters, Lucy turns to Nolan, who whispers, “I can’t believe he’s single.”

“Tell me about it,” Lucy replies, rolling her eyes. “Evaluating a wife daily would cut into his ‘man of honor’ time.”

They silence as Wade directs the TOs to only take easy calls while the rookies finish their last shift before their exams. When Tim assures that he follows direct orders, he keeps his eyes straight ahead, knowing that Angela and Bishop are ready to tease him the moment he looks in their direction.

✯✯✯✯✯

7-Adam-19, silent hold-up alarm activated at Madame Megan’s psychic shop. 2417 Vine. Code 3.

Tim and Lucy enter the back room, taking control of the situation quickly, and he dials in once again to being a cop. Not a family man or anything of the sort. Just a police officer.

As Lucy walks out, and the (fake) psychic hits on Tim, he can only think of one thing. Excusing himself from the room, with a lack of grace that is unlike him, Tim lets his mind wander for just a moment. He thinks of a promise he made, a vow he took, and then his focus is back on his new case, a missing person discovered by a phony Hollywood psychic.

✯✯✯✯✯

Miles away, you are trying to focus on work, though you find it much harder than Tim to simply push your family and your personal life from your mind at a moment’s notice. Fiddling with your necklace, you refrain from grabbing your phone, wanting to text the only person on your mind. Oblivious to the dangers Tim is learning about from the CDC and Homeland Security, you sigh and clench your hands into fists before attempting to focus again.

Before you make any progress on starting the project awaiting your attention, your phone rings. Tim’s name appears on your screen, and you rush to answer, dread filling you. He never calls while he’s working, and you immediately expect the worst. Surely if it were something terrible, Angela or Wade would call you. If Tim is calling, that means he is okay, he is alive.

“Hello?” you ask, releasing a sigh when Tim says your name.

“Are you alone?” he adds, his voice strained.

“Yes. What’s going on?”

“I need you to stay where you are or go straight home. There’s a terror cell with a biological weapon; we’re doing everything we can to find them, but I need to know you’re safe.”

“Tim- yeah, of course. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I- I really can’t say anything else. Not about what we’re doing. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all, okay?”

“I will. Be careful, Tim. I love you.”

“I love you.”

Your phone beeps as the call ends, and your hand finds your necklace again, one finger slipping into Tim’s wedding ring. He leaves it with you each morning, taking it back with gentle touches and loving kisses when he returns each night. Today, all you can do is trust that he is good at his job and that he will protect you and the rest of LA, and then come back to you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim and Lucy approach one of the possible addresses in the search for newly discovered members of the terror cell.

“Man. And here I thought that test was gonna be the hardest part of my day,” Lucy muses.

“Best case scenario, it’s tomorrow’s problem,” Tim points out. His thoughts, however, are stuck on you, especially when Lucy asks what the worst case is.

“Took you long enough,” the man, Peter Langston, says as he opens the door. “Bag’s in here.”

“Sir, we’re here about the bus you took from Phoenix,” Tim explains.

“No kidding. I called you about the bag.”

“And what bag is that?”

“I thought it was mine on the bus. I picked it up by accident.” Tim follows Langston into a bedroom as he continues, “Noticed as soon as I got home. Called right away. Still took you guys like six hours to get here.”

“Uh, sir, we’re not here about a bag.”

“So, you don’t have mine? My computer’s in there… I went through this one for an address, and all I found was some weird science equipment.”

Tim glances back at Lucy, who calls for the task force at the mention of ‘weird science equipment.’

“Sir, did you touch anything in there?” Tim asks, pulling gloves on.

“Yeah, I cut my finger going through it looking for an address. Some kind of broken vial.”

Tim’s eyes widen and his breath catches as the man raises his bloodied finger, adding that it hasn’t stopped bleeding since it was cut. Hemorrhaging, Tim knows.

“Everything okay in there?” Lucy calls.

“Yeah. Just stay out there,” Tim demands.

The man coughs, and Tim flinches as blood lands on his neck and up onto his jaw. Looking down at the blood on the man’s shirt, Tim’s mind forgets the divide between work and personal life. He takes the initiative to lock Lucy out, slamming the door on her to keep her safe, but his true concern is you. If something happens to him, who will look out for you? Who will be your shoulder to cry on? In a moment, as the reality of the situation dawns on him, Tim thinks like a husband, and he begins to regret keeping you, his wife, hidden for so long.

“Tim, no!” Lucy yells, but she steps forward too late.

Tim is on the other side of the door, a new division created as others are dissolved.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim finds baby wipes on a nearby changing table, wiping the blood from his skin as he lies to Langston, telling him it will be okay and distracting him with meaningless treatments to combat the “bad case of the flu the police were warned about this morning at roll call.”

Langston disappears into the bathroom in search of cold medicine, and Tim walks to the door to ask Lucy, “Everything all right out there, Chen?”

“Uh, yeah. The CDC’s on their way,” she responds. “Hey, you need to come out of there.”

“That’s not gonna happen. Got to keep this contained.”

“Tim-“

“It’s gonna be alright, boot.”

Tim knows that Lucy is concerned about him, and he is similarly concerned for her. He feels responsible for her safety as his rookie, but his thoughts toward her are completely and totally different from his fears concerning you, driven by love rather than mutual respect and duty.

“You keep your head in the game, okay?” Tim encourages Lucy. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

As Tim looks at the blood-covered wipe in his hand, he thinks of you, and how you’ll respond to the potential notification that he didn’t make it, taken from you by the very thing he tried to protect you from. He turns his attention back to the sick man feet away from him before his thoughts spiral. Tim needs you, so he needs to focus and survive.

✯✯✯✯✯

While the CDC is arriving at the house and quarantining Tim and the infected man, you are pacing in your shared bedroom. Memories of you and Tim exist in every inch of this house, and every moment that goes by without an update increases your worry. Walking into the closet, you find one of Tim’s recently worn shirts, changing into it before picking up the remote to distract yourself. With Tim’s pillow clutched to your chest, you try to laugh at the ridiculous sitcom on the screen, but it doesn’t work as well as you hoped.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Officer Chen, you want to tell me what happened?” Dr. Morgan asks, dressed in full hazmat gear as she enters.

“Yeah, uh, the bus passenger mistakenly grabbed the wrong bag, and the virus must have been in it because he coughed up blood on Tim,” Lucy explains.

“Did you get any blood on you?”

“Uh, no. I was out here. Tim immediately closed the door.”

“Smart man.”

Tim hears Dr. Morgan’s comment and clenches his jaw, knowing you would disagree entirely. At least in this case.

“Hey, doc,” Tim greets, standing against the door.

“How you doing?” Dr. Morgan inquires.

“Fine. But Mr. Langston’s struggling a little.”

“Can you describe his condition?”

“Yeah. He, uh, started coughing blood about 20 minutes ago. Now he’s got a pretty wicked nosebleed.”

“Why aren’t they coming in? Where’s my ambulance?” Langston asks.

“It’ll be here any minute. Just… stay put. Save your energy.”

Lucy interrupts to ask, “Where’s the vaccine?”

“Still in the air,” Dr. Morgan says. “Should land in the next hour or so.”

Scoffing, Lucy argues, “You can’t make Tim wait in there. He might not be infected.”

“Sorry. Quarantine rules exist for a reason.” Dr. Morgan turns to the door and asks Tim, “Officer Bradford, do you mind if I put you to work while you wait?”

“You want to know what’s in the bag?” Tim knows digging through the contents is dangerous, but waiting without doing anything won’t increase his chances of getting home to you.

“Yes, I do.”

“Copy that. Chen, I’m gonna turn on my body cam. You can monitor it from out there.”

“Okay. Please be careful,” she responds.

Tim hears your voice in his mind, telling him the same thing. He trusts himself to listen to you more than his rookie.

“All right. Here we go,” Tim says, using his baton to open the bag.

“Wait. Wait. What is that bottle?” Dr. Morgan wonders.

“Looks like the delivery device,” Tim guesses, raising it carefully from the bag. “It’s a misting fan.”

Dr. Morgan calls Homeland Security with the new information on how the terrorists are planning to spread the virus. As Tim continues searching the bag, failing to find identification or target information, Lucy sees Langston raising a chair in the mirror and yells for Tim just before he is knocked unconscious.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your house is as clean as it has ever been. Using your nervous energy and anxiety-fueled need to move, you clean each room in an attempt to keep your mind from worrying about Tim. You could call someone and ask for an update, but they probably can’t tell you anything. The only comfort you have is knowing that Angela and Wade would call you if you needed to know something. The silence is deafening, but it’s also a good sign.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim? Tim!” Lucy continues, growing concerned at the lack of reply.

Tim opens his eyes, moving backward quickly when he sees a puddle of blood running toward his face. He sees Langston standing across the room, mumbling about needing to get out as he tries to break the window. Tim tases him as he stands, and Lucy’s concerned yells continue. Covering his face with his shirt, Tim handcuffs Langston to the bed, shuffling backward as Lucy demands his answer.

“I’m okay! I’m okay!” he replies, breathing heavily. “Well, that was fun.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tim chuckles. “Kind of depends on your definition of the word.”

While Lucy tells Dr. Morgan to get the vaccine, and the LAPD sends patrol units out to find the other terrorist, Tim keeps his eyes on Langston, but his mind is on you. He should ask someone to tell you and find a way to let you know what is going on, but part of him knows that you are separate from this for a reason. You’re likely worried enough without knowing that Tim’s chance of being infected rises with each moment.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim watches Langston die, unable to do anything as he begs for help and convulses. Imagining himself in Langston’s place, Tim decides that he has to do something. He can’t go out like that, he won’t, but more importantly, he can’t leave you wondering. If Tim dies today, he is not dying without talking to you one last time, showing everyone around him that you are the best part of him.

He leans against the door in silence until Lucy says, “Hey, I, uh- I just checked with Dr. Morgan. The vaccine’s minutes away.”

“You know, you’re good at a lot of things – lying isn’t one of them,” Tim replies.

“You think I’m good at things? Can I get that in writing? … How are you doing? Are there any symptoms yet?"

"I’m sweating like a pig. But it’s probably because it’s 100 degrees in this room.”

Tim sighs just before Lucy assures, “It’s gonna be okay. I really believe that.”

“I’m sure you do. But if it isn’t-“

“Don’t think like that. It’s-“

“If it isn’t,” Tim repeats. “I’m not going out the way my man Pete here just did.”

“What are you saying?”

Tim sighs again, realizing what he said. He would never leave you like that; he’s a fighter. “I need you to do something for me, Chen.”

“Anything.”

“My- my wife is probably worrying herself sick right now. If this doesn’t end like you think it will, can you tell her that I fought to get home to her? Just- just keep an eye on her if anything happens. Wade and Angela, too.”

“Wife?” Lucy asks softly.

Tim smiles, glad to talk about something other than himself or the virus released in the room with him.

“Yeah. We eloped a while back; Grey, Lopez, and Bishop were there.”

“You’ve never mentioned her.”

“I keep her separated. She - everything in my personal life – would be at risk if there wasn’t a divide there.”

“I get that. What’s she like?”

Tim says your name, closing his eyes and picturing you as he tells Lucy how beautiful, kind, and loving you are. “She’s my better half. I don’t- can’t imagine not going home to her.”

“I promise, Tim. I’m confident you will go home to her, but… I promise.”

“Thank you,” Tim says quietly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Please tell me that’s the vaccine,” Lucy says when Dr. Morgan returns.

“It is,” she answers quickly, walking toward the door quarantining Tim. “Stand back, Officer Chen. You’re not wearing protective gear.”

“Yeah.” Lucy steps back, hoping Tim is okay, and that he gets to go home to you.

“Officer Bradford, it’s time to let me in,” Dr. Morgan calls.

Tim opens the door, greeting Dr. Morgan before answering that he’s not feeling too bad. She tells him that she’s going to administer the vaccine. “It’s experimental, right?” Tim asks.

“That’s correct. So, we’re just going to have to wait and see what happens. Maybe nothing. Maybe you grow horns. But for now, I’d say you might’ve dodged a bullet.”

Tim looks at Lucy to ask, “Can you get Lopez? Ask her to call for me?”

Lucy nods, pulling her radio out to contact Angela. She knows that Tim will need you, no matter how the vaccine works… or doesn’t.

“Lopez,” she says, sighing before saying, “Tim wants to know if you can call his wife.”

“Of course,” Angela answers. “She’ll be at his side, even if I have to go get her in the shop.”

Lucy smiles at Tim, and he sighs as Dr. Morgan administers the vaccine. There’s more hope surrounding Tim now, but the fight may not be over yet.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you see Angela’s name on your phone, you consider not answering. Biting your bottom lip to hold your tears in, you answer.

“He’s okay,” Angela begins.

You sigh in relief, a few tears breaking free anyway. “Thank you, Angela.”

“The vaccine is experimental, so they’re taking him to the CDC for observation; you can visit with the proper protective gear. Do you want me to come pick you up?”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“See you in a few. And, just so you know, he didn’t call me.”

“Who did?”

“His rookie.”

Angela reminds you that she’s happy to pick you up if you want before ending the call. Tim mentioned me, you think. Then you wonder whether or not that’s a good thing.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, I heard you guys saved the day,” Lucy says, exiting Langston’s house to meet Nolan, Jackson, Lopez, and Bishop.

“It was a group effort,” Jackson corrects.

“Glad you’re okay,” Nolan expresses.

“Me too,” Lucy sighs. “I- I mean that you’re okay, too.”

“How’s Tim?” Angela asks.

“I think he’s gonna be all right. Now, 24-hour observation at the CDC.”

“I’ll bet my pension he just told doctors Tim Bradford does not ride in a wheelchair,” Angela jokes as Tim walks out.

“Only way I’m leavin’ out of here is on my own two feet,” Bishop imitates.

“Don’t you guys have paperwork to finish?” Tim retorts.

Tim looks at Lucy, nodding his thanks before continuing to walk toward the car waiting to transport him to the CDC. He stops suddenly in the yard, growing dizzy before he falls backward onto the grass.

“Officer Bradford!” Dr. Morgan yells.

Lucy, Angela, Bishop, and Jackson run toward him before the CDC holds them back. Someone calls for an ambulance, and Angela backs away to make a call.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What happened?” you ask, answering Angela’s second call.

“Meet us at Shaw instead of the CDC,” she says.

You can hear yelling in the background, and repeat, “What happened?”

Angela says your name, unyielding as she says, “Shaw. I’ll meet you there.”

You inhale deeply, turning toward Shaw. Knowing that you have no chance of beating an ambulance escorted by police cars, you grip the steering wheel, hoping that Los Angeles traffic has grace on you, and you make it to Tim’s side quickly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim better make it,” Jackson says.

“He will.” Angela knows that he’s a fighter, but she also knows that losing him will destroy you. He has to make it for himself, for the police department, and most importantly, for you.

In the ambulance ahead, Tim goes into anaphylactic shock. Lucy helps the paramedics and glances at Tim’s left hand. The line where his wedding ring sits is barely visible, but she whispers for him to keep his promise, to keep fighting.

Once the ambulance and the police cars enter into the hospital parking lot, Nolan notices a woman with a gun, alerting the officers surrounding the ambulance before the firefight starts.

Lucy covers Tim in the ambulance as the paramedics assist him as well as the injured medics. Nolan shoots the woman in the shoulder, but his gun jams as he moves closer to her.

Tim opens the ambulance door, downing the armed woman on a surge of adrenaline. Stepping onto the ambulance driveway, he asks Nolan if he’s okay.

“I should have reloaded on the move,” Nolan mutters. “You?”

“I should’ve taken yesterday off,” Tim answers.

“Alright, Officer Bradford, let’s go,” a nurse says, pushing a wheelchair to his side.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Angela!” you call, jogging to her side.

“Don’t freak out,” she begins, but your eyes widen when you see the bullet holes covering, well, everything.

“Where is he?”

She nods, leading you around her shop. Tim is standing beside Nolan, arguing with a nurse.

“I can walk. Clearly, I’m fine,” Tim argues.

You don’t think about how many people are watching as you walk to Tim’s side. He turns toward you, his eyes softening when he sees you.

“Get in the wheelchair,” you demand.

Tim sighs but does as you say. Nolan and Jackson look at each other in shock, and Lucy smiles as she says, “His wife.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When you walk into Tim’s hospital room, he looks like he’s been waiting for you.

“I’m sorry,” he begins.

“For what? Not listening to the nurse?”

Tim chuckles as he raises his left hand, pulling you to his side. “No. I’m sorry for not showing you off more, for never telling people about us. I worried you; I know I did, and you don’t deserve any of it.”

You lean forward, running your fingers across Tim’s jawline as you smile. “You don’t have to show me off. I know why you do it, Tim. Being a secret, being separated and safe, I get it. What I don’t like is not knowing if you’re okay.”

“I don’t want the separation anymore. You are my entire life, and- I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, but I’m not risking this again. The idea of not making it home, leaving you alone, with no one knowing you or how much you mean to me… that was terrible, and I’m sorry.”

Pursing your lips, you lean toward Tim and look into his eyes before scanning your eyes over his face.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Trying to figure out where the Tim I know went.”

Tim smiles, moving over in the bed and tugging you against his side. He taps your necklace before raising your hair away from your neck. You unclasp your necklace, sliding Tim’s wedding ring off the chain. Tim lays his left hand in your lap, and you put his ring on slowly before kissing his hand.

“I love you,” Tim says.

“I love you. And I accept your apology, even though I didn’t need it.”

“Ready to meet the rest of my-“

“Friends?” you fill in, smiling.

“Colleagues,” Tim finishes, shaking his head as his arm tightens around your waist.

“Thank you for making sure Angela called me.”

“How clean is the house?”

You laugh, pressing your face against Tim’s shoulder. He knows you well, and though you didn't know what was truly at stake over the last few hours, you did miss him.

“Hey, Mrs. Bradford,” Wade greets, smiling as he leads a small crowd of officers into the room. “I have some rookies here who don’t believe someone would marry Tim.”

“I changed my mind,” Tim replies. “Get out.”

You elbow him gently, smiling as you stand. “It's much easier when he doesn’t tell people. No association to him.”

Tim laughs behind you, and after shaking hands and introducing yourself, you return to Tim’s side: where nothing can hurt you, everything is safe, and you’re the most important thing in the world.

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 1 - Not Quite An Isekai

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

You awake to the sound of your phone ringing. You slap to the edge of your couch, aiming for the rickety side table. Your wrist smacks against the corner, and you hiss in pain. It’s a few inches too high, and wood, not metal. Seems you somehow got to your bed during the night, but you didn’t remember it. Still, you get your phone. Through squinted eyes, you find the screen, its 3:15, far too early for your drunken suffering- Wait no, it’s mid-afternoon. Still, you feel tired, and you want to sleep.

You answer the phone anyway, putting it on speaker and resting your head back against the pillow. Your head doesn’t hurt that bad anyway. God was smiling down on you today.

“Miss, are you awake?” a man’s voice rings through your apartment.

Who was that? Who called you Miss of all things? Your boss didn’t remember your name sure, but he just called you ‘intern’ instead. You’d been an official employee for six months now. Right, conversation, paying attention, replying like a normal person.

“Hm, yeah, I’m awake,” you say, fighting back the urge to yawn.

“You don’t sound very awake, Miss,” the man replies, his tone familiar.

“Who is this?”

He sighs, “Miss, are you being sarcastic?”

“What? No, I’m serious,” you confusedly answer.

“…This is Alfred, Miss. Now, Master Wayne has asked me to-”

“Master who now?” you cut this Alfred off, doubly confused now. Wayne? Like, the Wayne family? The rich, philanthropist one?

He sighs again, “I understand the relationship between the two of you is quite strained, and this is a personally difficult day for you, but he insists on seeing you. Your birthday gala starts at 7, as I’ve told you, and your assistant will be over at 4. I ask that you unblock both their accounts, as I would much rather I didn’t have to talk to you when you’re like this.”

“What?” you repeat, like the idiot you are.

“Good day, Miss. And happy birthday.”

He hangs up. You blink down at your phone. And then you roll your eyes, because oh my god are Molly’s pranks getting ridiculous. You never should have told her about your weird fascination with the Waynes, she was getting back at you hard for your drunken mistake.

You make a lot of those. Well, life goes on. You’ll put glitter in Molly’s car’s vanity mirror or something.

You turn off your phone, and let your face slam right back into your pillow. For a while, you try to go back to sleep.

…Something about this isn’t right. You, like the freak you are, take a deep inhale of your pillow. It smells like you, like the laundry soap you use, but it also smells like… Well, you don’t know. All you can think about is your new boss’s wife and her awful perfume that swallows the office space like noxious gas.

Your pillow… kind of smells like that. Your first ungodly thought is that, somehow, you spent a torrid night with your boss’s wife. The second is that Molly needs to die for her crimes.

You let your crusty, bleary, stinging eyes blink open.

Hm. Why is there a chandelier in your bedroom? You shoot upright in the bed, silk sheets falling to your lap. Silk sheets you can’t afford. You look around the room, eyes widening at the space. The bed is king-sized, while you had barely been able to afford your twin-sized mattress. The living room isn’t in the same space as the bedroom. You can’t see the kitchen and the bathroom to your right has shining marble tiles. And even then, the decoration’s are luxurious and clean, compared to your livable chaos.

You look to your left, and your mouth drops open.

A floor-to-ceiling window, showing the Gotham horizon with the morning sun. Fog and clouds twist around spiralling gothic towers, reaching down to the people down below. You’re looking out over the bay, and you can see the Narrows barely peaking through the mist, desperately clawing for any sunlight.

The sun rises on the right of your building, not the left. You don’t have a view, you’re on the fourth floor and there’s a brick building directly across from your window. You live in the Narrows.

You live in the Narrows. You press your face to the cool glass and look down. Oh my god, you can’t see the streetside. You’re too high up. You’re somehow on the opposite side of Gotham City.

Stumbling away from the window, you do your best not to touch anything, because you know it’s all too expensive for your peasant hand. Let’s start thinking… whatever was happening to you, through. Molly might kidnap you for a joke, sure, but she was barely any richer than you, and that was just because her boyfriend lived with her. She could not afford this level of fuckery.

So… so… is this, what? A big joke from the universe? Did someone else kidnap you? You have to have been kidnapped, right? Why the fuck would someone kidnap you?

Did the Joker kidnap you? Was he coming to finish you off? End your family line?

You reach down and pinch yourself hard enough you yelp. When the dazzlingly perfect apartment doesn’t disappear, it’s much harder to force yourself not to panic. Okay, okay, okay. It’s fine. This’ll be fine, and it could still be a dream. That whole pinching thing was a myth, right? Argh, maybe you should’ve listened to Molly when she was trying to get you into astral projection.

Wait, Molly!

You go back to your bed and pick up your phone.

It’s… it’s not your phone. What was this? The iPhone 27? You didn’t keep up with those sorts of things, but it looked expensive. Everything here looked expensive.

You think you’re going to go into anaphylactic shock. Wait, no, it’s hyper-something. What was it? Argh, you can’t do this right now!

You press your thumb to the ‘on’ button, and luckily whoever this phone belongs to is not worried about their privacy because there's no password. Stupidly, you look for Molly’s name in your list of contacts.

BLOCKED - ‘Bruce Wayne’

BLOCKED - ‘Damian Wayne’

BLOCKED - ‘Dick Grayson’

BLOCKED - ‘Tim Drake’

‘Alfred :)’

BLOCKED - ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’

You drop the phone. Because the floors, even in the bedroom, are marble, it shatters like glass. You make a sound like a dying chicken as you watch the piece of technology make a bouncing break for the bathroom. It slides to a stop against the giant hot tub, and you pick it up and cradle it between your palms like a newborn.

The screen still works. Even if it’s cracked to high heaven and takes multiple attempts to turn it on, it still eventually does. Thanks God, won’t forget this. You hiss as you open the contacts again, pricking your fingers against the sharp edges.

As fate commands, you click on the ‘Bruce Wayne’ contact. The description is very simple.

‘Massive dickhead. Hope you jump off a building and fall like a rock.’

You go back. Click on ‘Dick Grayson’.

‘Massive dickhead’s beloved firstborn. Most annoying man on earth congrats.’

Again. ‘Damian Wayne’ this time.

‘Massive dickhead’s massive dickhead. Demon? Grinch? Somebody kill it with fire please.’

And finally, ‘Tim Drake’.

‘The only acceptable one.’

…Well, at least your kidnapper liked one of the Waynes. Maybe they kidnapped you because you were their opposite or something? You definitely wouldn’t call Bruce motherfucking Wayne a massive dickhead. Or maybe they wanted to kill you.

The Molly prank idea was becoming more sound. Maybe she won the lottery and didn’t tell you.

You click on ‘Alfred :)’. He’s the one that called you earlier and also called you ‘Miss’, for some reason.

It’s just a bunch of heart emojis. Coherent, sure.

You go back, and click on the final of the list, ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’.

‘Don’t listen to Alfred. She wants to eat you.’

She wants to what?

A knock at the door has you jumping a foot in the air and nearly banging your head on the bathtub’s lip. You hear someone call your name through the door, and you freeze. Who… how? They call your name again, this time their voice louder. They bang on the door.

You creep over to the door.

“Ma’am, if you don’t open this right now, I’m quitting! We both know Alfred contacted you this morning, and he’s going to be very upset if I do so. There’s only so many assistants in this city!” from this close, you can recognise the voice belongs to a woman. She rattles the doorknob.

You lean down, peering through the peephole. The woman has a harsh face, a perfect pencil suit and her blonde hair in a pretty updo. Her makeup is impeccable. You get the feeling this woman is also more expensive than you can afford, despite her calling your name.

Bewildered, you open the door. She slams through like a battering ram, strutting 6-inch stilettos into the space.

She huffs, and then turns around. You can see very clearly she’s trying to keep her calm, but you did leave her at the door for like five minutes. It wasn’t your fault, you thought you were hallucinating or something.

“Ma’am,” she stresses the word, “Please unblock me.”

You blink at her, “Uh, sure.”

She waits, her hands clasped together in front of her.

“Oh- oh, right now?” you stutter, pulling the phone out from your noticeably lavish pyjamas.

Wait had someone changed you in your sleep? What the hell was going on? Maybe you should be more concerned about that, honestly. Still, you do as she commands.

She watches you like a hawk as you stare at the cracked phone. Your eyes flick up at her, and then back down at the screen. Slowly, watching for her reaction, you unblock ‘The Wicked Witch of the West.’ She nods, not even commenting on what was apparently her name in ‘your’ phone.

You were still slightly concerned about the ‘She wants to eat you’ thing, but she seemed… alright. Kind of scary. But not cannibalistic.

Still, this was Gotham after all. A healthy dose of fear was what kept people like you alive.

“Ma’am, did you just wake up? It’s already 4 o’clock,” she gives you a subtly disapproving look, and your shoulders sink like you’re being scolded.

“Yeah- yeah, sorry about that,” you stammer, embarrassed for some unknowable reason. This really was just like a dream. You could tell something was very obviously wrong, but you were still going along with everything like it wasn’t. Everyday life.

You were going to focus on that, this had to be just a dream. Just go along with… this, and then you’d wake up. And if you could manage to get over the uncanny valley-ness of the very obvious wealth surrounding you, maybe you could enjoy it.

You had always wanted to be rich. This was just your brain spewing out random information. Better than the nightmares you usually get.

You’re abruptly pulled back into focus when the woman clears her throat loudly. Ah, shoot. Had she been talking? You definitely hadn’t been listening.

“We need to get you ready, Miss,” she says like she’s repeating herself. You nod, because yes, of course, getting ready.

Ready for what? You think if you ask her she’ll yell at you. So when she grabs your arm and tugs you along, you follow. She pulls you into the bathroom, sitting you down in front of the mirror on a stool. Because this bathroom has stools in it. You stare at your reflection warily, before glancing up at her behind you.

“The stylists will be here in about forty minutes, and the makeup artists in two hours,” she pauses, giving you a strange look, “I appreciate you being so cooperative today. I understand this is all a delicate matter, but I am under Mr. Wayne’s orders first and foremost.”

“Wayne… like Bruce? Bruce Wayne?” you ask, even though there’s really no one else it could be. Still, you have to check.

Because it’s impossible. Even if it’s a dream, it still feels completely impossible. There was just something inside you that said ‘that can’t be right’, even if you knew none of this was real.

You realise, quite late, that you don’t even know this lady's name. ‘Wicked witch’

“Yes, Ma’am. Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises,” she answers you, pulling out her phone and flicking through it. She doesn’t even respond to what you have to assume is an inane question. Maybe ‘dream you’ often asks stupid questions.

‘Normal you’ certainly does.

“Oh… okay…” the conversation drifts off, and she makes no attempt to fill it. Aren’t P.A.s supposed to… you don’t know, fix that? Or maybe she’s not your personal assistant, just an assistant. Silly you, making assumptions.

This bathroom deserves assumptions. You wonder if the gold frame of the mirror is, y’know, real.

The blonde woman walks out of the room without speaking another word to you. You think maybe you should follow her, but instead you just sit there with your hands on top of your knees. Your leg bounces up and down, and you glare it into submission, ignoring the way your muscles jump.

You look at yourself. You look… different. The bags under your eyes are worse than usual, and your gaze sunken into your face. Your hair is sad and oily, knotted in places. Your skin is almost waxy.

You look sick. You look like… you remember, you look like…

In the light of the day, you refuse to think about it. You’re not allowed to, you’ll break if you do.

You just don’t. Even if your reflection just confirms that you have to be dreaming.

Instead, you turn your gaze to the tub. You raise your hand to your hair again. Back in your apartment, you’d had a shower. It was a surprisingly good shower because you’d invested in a showerhead with better pressure. Still, it wasn’t a bath.

You missed bathes. You get up, close the door, lock it, and sink inside the tub. You take off your silky pyjamas inside the bath, and then you toss them on the floor beside you. Sitting there, you watch through the giant window at the world down below. At the ravens and pigeons that fly through the fog, at the few people you can see through the windows and balconies.

You press your cheek against the glass. It’s cold. You’re cold.

You’re sitting in an empty bathtub naked. What are you doing?

Rubbing at your eyes, you reach over to what you think are the controls. They all look very complicated, but there’s a switch that goes from blue to red, so you turn that. It takes another button press for the water to start flowing out. Steam fills the room, and you let out a sigh of contentment.

“Ma’am! Ma’am, the stylists will be here in ten minutes, and you need to get out. Ma’am? Ma’am!”

You shoot up in the bath, splashing water over the overflowing sides. Blinking, you turn your head back and forth and then sink back down. Oh. You’re still here. You went to sleep, but you’re still here. Maybe it’s one of those dreams where you think you wake up, but you haven’t. Or, ah, something similar.

You feel so tired. You really, really didn’t miss this feeling.

Quickly, you wash your hair and body, scrubbing furiously at the oily sweat on your skin. You stumble out of the bath on shaky legs, dry yourself off, and almost trip in your haste to get out the door. Showing off your negligible intelligence, you only realise you’re still wearing just a towel till she manhandles you towards the closet.

A walk-in closet, because of course it is. You think it’s bigger than your apartment. It has a flat bench in the centre because evidently all the walking around you’ll be doing will require a fainting couch.

The woman gives you, horrifyingly, a set of lacy, racy underwear. When all you do is just gape at her, she sighs, takes them from your hands and gives you a simple black set with no frills. You look down at them clasped in your wet hands. They’re clean, and they seem to be your size.

Still, this is a bit…

“Are these… new?” you ask, because there’s no tag or anything.

“Yes, Ma’am. But if you want, we do have some sets still unpacked at the back of the closet,” she says, going along with your weirdness. Even if she was a bit scary, you were grateful for that, at least. You guess celebrities were usually quite eccentric, so maybe this wasn’t out of the ordinary for her.

“Yes, please.”

She gives you a pair of Victoria’s Secret bra and underwear, plain beige and still in their plastic packaging.

“Cool, sweet, thanks,” you say, and she shakes her head just slightly.

She puts a white bathrobe down, and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. You lock it, and then you put on the underwear that you did not buy. The whole experience is strange, but still, you just go along with it. You’re a go-along-with-it kind of person.

You were… you were starting to not like that all of a sudden. Still, out of your depth in an odd dream is no place to start doubting your entire personality. You put on the bathrobe too. And the fluffy slippers that are tucked under them, with great pleasure.

You hear the many voices before you open the door. When you step through it, you feel like you’ve stepped onto the set of a movie. Or well, the backstage at least. Women and men are flittering about the chic apartment in the sort of rush you’d only seen working at BatBurger.

The woman from before spots you and you feel like a rabbit under a hawk's gaze when her brown eyes narrow on you. She strides over to you and then, once again, clamps her grip around your wrist and drags you over. You wonder as you stumble after her if she’s got some meta-human in her because no slim, perfectly put-together lady should be this damn strong.

She pulls you towards a set of three people. You can immediately tell they’re the heads of the operation, with an aura that squashes you like a pancake. Two women, one man. They’re all dressed to the nines, in their own unique ways.

They all look at you with assessing glances. You fear you do not measure.

“I’m surprised, Jeanine. You actually got her this time,” a woman with a black bob and a rocker look comments, her red lips twisting into a grin. You realise, with a start, that the blonde woman who was not incorrectly nicknamed ‘The Wicked Witch of The West’ was actually called Jeanine.

Lovely, you were getting the hang of things.

“Yes, she was very agreeable this afternoon. I’d like to apologise once again for any past issues,” Jeanine says, all business. You still have no idea what’s going on, and definitely no idea what they’re talking about. But what you assumed was the jist of it… was that ‘dream you’ wasn’t a very harmonious person.

Lovely, lovely, lovely. This was a bit of a personal nightmare for a people pleaser like you. Actually, it was a literal personal nightmare. Lovely.

“The disrespect I’ve faced is immeasurable. But, Monsoir Wayne pays exceedingly well. Still, it’s nice to actually have our dear client before us,” the other woman says, appraising her french tip nails. Which, considering she said ‘monsoir’ and the whole accent, would make a lot of sense. She’s closer to a classic beauty than her punk rock friend, with brown hair coiled and beautiful pearls across her neck.

“I don’t know, I thought I’d be getting paid for doing no work tonight. Ruins my plans,” the man teases, and you’re relieved at the kindness in his gaze. He’s wearing a suit with a dazzling but trendy red tie. His tie has an odd metallic sheen to it, a fabric your peasant mind couldn’t place.

If Molly were here, she’d jab you in the stomach with an elbow and whisper “One of those homosexuals, me thinks” even if she was bi herself.

You wish Molly were here.

“Yes, well, I’d like it if we could all work together tonight. And get to it quickly, the drive to the Wayne Tower isn’t a quick one with the evening traffic, so, if you’d please.”

And that was that. No introductions, no extra pleasantries. You were swept away in a whirl of fabric and hair products.

They stuff you into a gorgeous evening gown, its colour reminding you of a sparkling midnight sky. Rhinestones dot down the sides, coalescing at the bottom. You hope they’re not real diamonds. Gloves, a bracelet, a necklace, and dripping pearl earrings. It was all impeccably put together, and you felt uncomfortable with such items on you. You didn’t dare ask how much it all cost, despite being desperately curious.

They slip towering 6-inch stilettos on you despite your protests, cake your face in enough powder to make you sneeze. Dramatic liner and eyelashes that felt heavy on your face, a lipstick that had to be coated twice because you chewed on your lip with nerves.

And then you’re done, dizzy and confused but thoroughly made up.

You get one quick look at your reflection before Jeanine is pulling you up and out of the seat.

They’d gotten rid of the signs.

You ignore the part of you that desperately wants them back and follow Jeanine out into the elevator.

Despite the fact that it is, in fact, a very long drive to the Wayne Tower, she does not seem inclined to say a single word to you. The ride is awkward and quiet, broken only by the sound of you pressing buttons in the back of limousine, and even that stops when you get an unimpressed look from her.

So you just sit there, vibrating at frequencies unseen by man.

When you finally arrive at Wayne Tower, the crowd shocks you. There are so many paparazzi, nearly overflowing the flimsy barricades and onto the carpeted marble entryway. The tower itself is a display of outrageous wealth, towering over the rest of Gotham City easily. You think for a while it’d been the tallest building in the world, but you couldn’t remember your elementary school education all that well.

It wasn’t like this information would’ve been useful at any point in your life. You still don’t think it will be, as this is all a very vivid dream.

The door opens, and immediately you’re overwhelmed by the camera flashing. You hunch away from the lights like a vampire, but Jeanine pushes you forward.

“We’re already very late, Ma’am. No time for faffing around,” she says from behind you, hand placed squarely against your back.

What? But all you’d done was rush around all afternoon! You know, if you’d just taken one of the trains or even the Skyrail you’d have been able to avoid this. Still, you’re out the door, up the steps, not given a moment to react to the questions thrown at you.

“Miss! Miss, are you here to celebrate your birthday? Don’t you think it’s a bit callous to ignore the tragedies of today?”

“Miss! Is it true you’ve been disowned?”

“Miss, miss, about your family…!”

Oh, well, even if what they’re saying is awful, it’s a relief. It’s your birthday again. You think the guy who had called you said happy birthday. That meant none of this could possibly be real. See? It had to be a dream. Had to, had to… You decide to ignore literally everything else they say, letting the words float through your very hollow brain.

Life’s a lot easier when you play it a little stupider.

The heels and the stairs are an awful combination, and if it wasn’t for Jeanine’s herculean strength you’re certain you’d be tumbling down them right now. Your assistant… secretary… lady is careful not to let that happen, however.

Maybe you judged her too quickly. You appreciated anyone who made sure you didn’t fall flat on your ass. It was a good quality for a person to have.

You don’t get to appreciate the Wayne Tower all done up. You don’t get to stare at the lights and flowers strung into the art deco rafters. You don’t get to stare and gape and look like an idiot, because Jeanine wants you to look like an idiot elsewhere.

In the middle of all these fucking random rich people you don’t know. Hurray!

You’re shoved into a group of people, with Jeanine at your back. She starts rattling off names and titles and relations, and you can’t make heads or tails of any of it. You turn to look at her with what must be a genuine deer-in-headlights fear, and she stops and then starts speaking slower.

Thank God for that. Well, since she’s making an effort, you do too.

“This is Lianne Jenkins, wife of Senator Jenkins,” Jeanine whispers into your ear, and you nod. You knew him, you’d voted for him, in fact. How the fuck were you here talking to his wife? She’s not looking at you, instead talking to someone beside her. She turns, and you put on the best smile you can.

The socialite physically startles when she sees your face. Great.

“Oh- oh my!” her voice stutters over your name like she can barely even remember it, “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight, it’s a pleasure to see you!”

It… it was your birthday party, right? Your name was on a giant banner at the back of the room, so you had to assume it was. Dream logic. Just- just blame it on dream logic.

“Oh, look it’s Gerald! I’m sorry my dear I really have to-”

And she just ditched you. At your birthday party. You blink at the space she just evacuated and then turn around to Jeanine. You probably give her some sort of weird Kubrick stare, and she winces. She then looks around for someone else for you to talk to. From the growing despair on her face, you can assume she doesn’t find anyone.

“I don’t want to be here,” you say.

“I said I’d quit, remember?” she replies. You think she’s lying to you. She looks about as desperate as you feel, which is a lot. You were seeing a lot of sides of ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’ today. She seemed less wicked and more generally insane. Hey, at least the two of you had something in common.

You turn away from her, eyes roving over the party. You recognise some people, because you know, they’re all rich and famous. That guy over there was in a movie you pirated recently. The one on your right seems to be someone important in online tech spaces. You think he did NFTs or something, which made you sad because you did not want that sort of person at your birthday party. Oh, the woman on the other side of the room eating canapes is an Instagram influencer, you think. The fantasy of a Wayne party gala is fading fast, falling out of the sky like a comet of fire to bring doom and death to mankind.

You are so out of your depth.

You turn back around to Jeanine.

“I really, really don’t want to be here,” you repeat, and Jeanine, shocking you, grabs your hands in hers.

“Please stay. Just for thirty minutes, please,” she begs you, her dark eyes pleading. And because you are the living personification of a doormat, you sigh.

“Alright. But only for thirty. And I’m getting very, very drunk.”

“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be right beside you the entire time-”

You decide, oh so kindly, that you are totally ditching Jeanine, too. Spinning in your dress, you make a grand effort to get away from her, but she dogs you loyally. The goliath-like heels you’re wearing don’t make it any damn well easier. Still, you don’t stop trying to outrun the tiny, control freak of a woman. Because while she definitely seems to desperate to stay near you, you are also very desperate to not be near her.

Your hand itches. Randomly, it itches quite a lot. You don’t know why you only notice what must be a bug bite inside the gala, but you do. Awkwardly, you scratch your palm with your other hand, staring down at the skin. It doesn’t look red yet, but it honestly it’s getting kind of annoying.

You sigh again, and turn to ask Jeanine if she had any lotion or something, because you assume that’s what stalking personal assistants are for and… she’s not there. Somehow you lost her, without even noticing.

You throw your arms into the air. Yippee! Now, it’s time for alcoholism, as is the answer to all problems in life. It’s what the loving and maternal arms of Gotham had taught you, after all.

You stumble your way to a wall where there’s a set of food, and a server with a silver platter carrying a bunch of champagne glasses. You stop the guy before he moves again, your hands in the air like you’re trying to soothe a scared animal.

You point at the tray, “I want that.”

He looks at you with mild horror. You thought rich people were weird, like he’d be used to something like this. It wasn’t like you were asking for the shirt off his back or cocaine or something. If it wasn’t obvious, you really didn’t know anything about what rich people did.

“It’s my birthday. It’s totally cool. I asked Bruce myself,” You bald-faced lie, like you’d ever even met the man. Like a predator, you watch the man carefully put the tray down next to the rest of the food, and then he slowly backs away from you. Well, okay, you could admit that was kind of weird. This night is getting to you. God knows this loud-as-fuck party was more overstimulating than anything you could usually stand. And so bright. What a shitty fairytale ball.

You grab one of the flutes of champagne and swirl it, sniff it, and then once you’ve gone through the polite checklist of drinking you throw it back like it’s a shot of vodka. There were people watching after all. Wait, they’d probably seen you corner that poor server boy.

Hmm, this requires cake. You choose a random slice that looks like it might be strawberry something, and dig in eagerly. It tastes fucking fantastic. The cream is sweet and soft, and the jam has a pop of flavour you totally weren’t expecting. And the cake itself was a lovely, spongy texture.

Grand. Maybe if you just sat here like a wallflower and ate food and drank liquor you could handle this. It wasn’t any different from how you behaved at Molly’s college parties.

So, you decide to work your way up and down the buffet table. Most of it’s delicious, but when you try things you can’t quite recognise, there’s a twenty-percent chance it’ll be disgusting and you’ll have to spit it out to avoid poisoning. You’re careful not to try the caviar, despite your own curiosity. You’d heard that it just tasted like salty water, and that didn’t mix well with whatever you were currently putting in your stomach.

You look down at your hand. It’s another piece of the sponge cake, wedged between a napkin so your dirty fingers didn’t touch it and you didn’t have to bother with another plate. You giggle, because it really is that good.

Ah, this is great. You could do this forever, screw thirty minutes. You eye the entrance the servers keep coming in and out of, and wonder if Jeanine would get mad if you tried to follow them into the kitchens. Probably, probably…

The question was, was it worth it? You’re debating the merits when the sound of someone's shoes stops next to you. You think it’s a man, and you consider barking at him to get away from the buffet, but decide you’ve tried everything and can probably share again. It takes great strength, though. You decide you deserve some more champagne for the kindness.

It’s after a moment that you realise he’s not taking anything.

“Oh, so you actually showed up? Colour me surprised,” a familiar, calm, masculine voice speaks from behind you. Your mouth drops open, and you spin on your heel. If you hadn’t been clinging to the table cloth you’d have fallen over, but still, you drop the champagne flute, and it bursts in a spray of liquid and glass against your dress.

It also splatters on the dress shoes of one Tim Drake.

First the phone, now the delicious drink. You really wished you’d stop dropping things.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[misotsukiiyeooo]

You could write a Seungcheol where he's worried because you've been sad for days, and when he asks why, he's surprised when you say it's because your kids are growing up and you miss having a baby at home.

Tks (:

"Just one more?" Part 1

Pairing:Husband!Father CSC x F! Mother!Reader

A/N: This is such a cute req!! (I didn't know if you wanted a fluff or not so this one's a fluff, but I could possibly make a pt 2 smut if you want! hope you enjoy!(PART 2 IS UP!)

Genre: Fluff + Angst

Word count: 3.3k (not proofread)

Synopsis: You've been pretty sad for a while now and Seungcheol wants to know why.

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3

Seungcheol has been watching you, and he knows something's off.

Down to you pouting every time you look at the kids to you frowning all the time you guys talk.

You're all at the mall right now shopping for clothes and he's pushing the cart with your youngest son and daughter sitting in as he holds the oldest son's hand.

He notices you stop at the baby section picking up some little girl shoes. "Mommy, those won't fit me anymore!" Your daughter, Jieun giggles at her Mother.

Y/N seems unfocused somehow. "Oh..you're right. Anyways let's get going yea?" She looks at me "Yeah, I think we got everything we needed."

He brushes off whatever happened not putting too much thought into it.

It's the next day, Monday, meaning the kids go to school Seojun, the oldest goes to 4th grade while Jieun goes to 2nd leaving Dohyun in daycare.

I make their breakfast and pack their lunchboxes while Y/N gets them dressed.

They come out of the room one by one to eat and Y/N comes out holding Dohyun and putting him in the high chair getting ready to feed him until he decides to grab the spoon, attempting to feed himself. Y/N pouts at the sight of this.

We get into the car and you can't stop thinking about your grown babies.

Dropping them off is never easy, Seeing Seojun wave goodbye and walk into the school himself then Jieun who looks back and smiles before leaving.

The only person you actually walk to their class is Dohyun, but at his age, he doesn't even wave bye, too invested in a shiny toy he spotted. Entering the car Seungcheol looks at you. "Is everything alright Babe?" He caresses your hand. "Yeah, why?"

"I don't know...you seemed a little out of it for the past week." He focuses back on driving as the light turns green. "Really? I'm fine really." Trying your best to reassure him earning a nod.

Arriving home you sit on the couch and turn on the TV.

A Pampers commercial pops up and you can't help but frown. Seungcheol sits beside you and turns off the TV, "Y/N look at me, you can't fool me I know something's wrong, and I hope you know I'm here for you."

He looks into your eyes fondly. "It's nothing really, just some thoughts..this is stupid."

Fidgeting with your fingers, he holds them. "It can't be stupid if you've been thinking about it for a week." He waits quietly for you to talk. "Well, the kids, our kids are growing up so fast...and I kind of miss that feeling of having a newborn baby.."

Seungcheols eyes widen, completely surprised. "That's what's been making you sad? So what you're saying is you want another kid?" You nod looking away.

"Baby, our oldest is only in 4th grade, let alone Dohyun's in daycare."

"I know but you've seen what happened earlier when I went to feed him? he took the spoon himself.."

He chuckles leaving you confused. " I see, so that's why you were looking at little girl shoes and pouting whenever you see the kids playing."

"That's not funny" You look at him trying to hold back his laughter. "It's not funny you're right, it's silly how you held that in for so long.

"You know if you wanted another baby that bad you could've just asked me. I'm always open to seeing another little you walk around the house."

Smiling at the thought, you blush, hitting him lightly, "Don't just say things like that!" Seungcheol giggles, "What? I can't say how I'm willing to give my beautiful wife whatever she wants? Even if it's a fourth child?" He looks at you, eyes big.

"Really? just one more?" You put your pointer finger up. "Yes, just one more, if that's what you want, that is."

Reqs are open!

Taglist

[eomayas]

chasing pavements • hjs

pairing: husband!joshua x wife!reader, parent au

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

synopsis: just reader and joshua being parents

warnings: parental woes, arguments, past childhood trauma, girl-dad!joshua, their child is nameless and is called ‘baby’

a/n: the people asked for dad!shua but nobody said which kind…🤭 anyway this was v random and is very parent-y so beware!

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sighing out a deep breath, you open your eyes and try to make your voice as gentle and even as possible. “i’ve asked you to clean up your mess three times now, baby. i’m not going to ask you again,” you stop stirring the spoon in the pot to look over your shoulder at her. she’s busy dragging her crayons over a coloring page, not bothering to look up at you.

“but im not done!” she whines, bottoms lip jutting out with the beginnings of a tantrum. you tense and and blink a few times as she just whines, tiny hand holding the crayon tightly in her hand. she’s not even coloring inside of the lines, just streaking the colors over the sheet haphazardly.

“dinner is almost ready. clean it up,” you voice is stern, tension in your tone rising as well as in your posture. you grip the ladle tightly in your fist, your other hand braced against the kitchen counter. “if i have to ask you again, then-“ the consequence dies on your tongue at the sound of the lock clicking and the front door opening. she gasps and shoots up from the table, loose crayons scattering across the wood floors.

“papa!” she shouts, running down the hall to greet joshua. you close your eyes and push out a breath from your nose. your jaw is tight as you turn back to face the stove. “look at what i got from school today! oh, and you missed seeing soobin today!”

“yeah? what is it?” he’s pressing a kiss to her cheek as he enters the kitchen, making her giggle when he blows raspberry against her skin. joshua sets her down so she can run to her backpack. “hey, baby.” he says, a hand sliding around to your hip and his lips pressing against your jaw in a greeting.

“hey,” you shrug him off of you and turn the burner down to low heat. “uh-uh, you can show daddy after dinner. go clean up,” you say, stopping her short when she comes back with a paper from school clutched in her hands.

that bottom lip juts out again and her eyes dart over to joshua for help. it only frustrates you more, because all three of you know that she has him in her palm. “well- joshua, stop.” you bark, throwing your arm out to the side to push against his abdomen. “go clean up the table so we can eat dinner.” her eyes well up with tears, and you feel like the biggest asshole in the world for making her cry. you remember a brief moment of yourself as a child and being scared each time your father asked you to do something. he never had to ask you or your siblings more than once—you all found out the hard way—and worry that you’re doing the same thing to her.

she huffs and spins around, her walk mopey as she puts her paper back into her bag and starts to slowly pick up the crayons. you feel joshua start, his hand gently pushing yours away as he makes his way over to her. “i’ll help you, princess,” he says and you grit your teeth.

“joshua, stop! i’ve asked her six times now, she needs to listen!” you’re on the brink of snapping, another word out of him or her is very likely to send you over the edge. it’s rough. the day was shitty from the jump, but you didn’t think it would be this bad by the end.

you expect joshua to at least have your back when you put a number on it, he looks over at you before glancing down at your daughter with sad eyes. “y/n, she’s just a baby.”

“goddamnit, joshua! let me do this!”

and then the dam breaks. her wail ripples through you like an electric current, setting off all of the alarms and signals that let you know your daughter is in trouble. except, you put her in this position, and now your heart has sunk to your stomach. joshua hurries to pick her up, cradling her against his chest and smoothing his hand over her hair. you stay rooted at your place by the stove, ignoring the sting in your nose and the newly formed lump in your throat. joshua shushes her softly like he used to when she was much smaller, but she just keeps wailing.

her cries slice through your heart and shred it to pieces. you want to walk over to her and hold her, tell her that you’re sorry, but you don’t think it’ll help. “baby- i’ve got it,” joshua cuts you off this time, cutting his eyes at you as he keeps trying to console her.

it only frustrates you more, and your anger is misplaced when you spit out, “deal with dinner, then. since you’ve got everything,” and storm out of the kitchen, your heels punctuating the end of the conversation. you fly up the stairs and into your bedroom, kicking off your shoes into your closet.

you stand there, in the middle of the walk-in, with your hands on your hips as you take in deep, shuddering breaths. your vision blurs with tears that you don’t let fall, instead blinking them away as you try to regain control over your breathing. her crying face swims through your mind and you almost forget why you’re so upset. almost. but unlucky for her, you’re not as easily swayed like joshua is.

grabbing a sweatshirt and a pair of pants off of their hangers, you quickly undress from your work outfit, and pull onto the much more comfortable clothes. you shove your feet into a pair of sneakers and push out a breath. her cries echo through the house, and you wince at her gasping breaths. it’s muffled, but you can hear joshua trying to calm her down, though whatever he says makes her let out a piercing wail that makes you flinch. it all feels too much; your guilt, her crying, your frustration at the both of them for different things.

you slip out of the bedroom and move as quickly and quietly as you can down the stairs. you force your eyes away from the kitchen and grab your purse off of the accent table in the foyer, and leave the house without a word.

i’m just like my father.

the thought rang through your head the the moment you pulled out of your neighborhood. it almost brought you to tears, but you managed to keep them in again. and you almost turned back, but couldn’t. you have the harrowing realization that the more you fought to be better than him, you ended up a mirror. it makes your stomach flip and turn, but yet you still don’t turn around.

time is a flat circle.

there’s not a place you’re heading for. you’ve just been driving on the back roads for nearly two hours. the sun set a long time ago, and now the sky is dark and unwelcoming. you should go him, you know it, but facing your husband isn’t something you feel up for at the moment.

turning into a dimly lit convenience store parking lot, you pull into a space and out your car in park. you sigh and lean back against the headrest, shutting your eyes and reminding yourself to breathe. you visualize a square and practice the breathing exercise your therapist taught you. in for four, out for four, her voice echoes through your head. it calms down the storm brewing inside of you and brings you back down. that voice in the back of your head, the one telling you that you’re just like your own dad, gets a little quieter.

your phone buzzes in the cup holder, and you pick it up.

joshua: you don’t have to tell me where you are, just lmk that you’re ok.

you: i’m okay.

you gnaw on your bottom lip, deciding that it’s time to go home. it’s past your daughters bedtime now, and you can guarantee that she’s already tucked in and asleep. at least you won’t have to deal with the both of them tonight.

on your way home, you pass a donut shop that is surprisingly open. you stop and quickly run in. the pastries surprisingly look fresh for 8pm, and order half a dozen of your daughters favorite (chocolate with sprinkles, and maple), before heading to the car to make your way home.

the stress of the day starts to weigh on you halfway home. the morning started out rough; joshua had to go into work early, so taking your daughter was your duty. from the moment you woke her up, she was in meltdown mode. you take the blame for rushing a seven year old, but you let her have juice in her lunch instead of the usual water, so you figured that it evened everything out. but then you were late from picking her up from the after school program she sometimes goes to if neither you nor joshua can pick her up, and she whined about it the whole way home. never mind the fact that your workday was filled with hour-long, unnecessary meetings.

you yawn as you pull into your neighborhood and up to your driveway. you stall in the car for a moment, looking at the dark house in front of you, save for the bright porch light. there’s a chance that joshua has gone to bed, but in your heart of hearts you know that he’s waiting up for you. deciding to just deal with your life, you grab the box of donuts and your belongings, and get out of the car.

you quietly make you way into the house, lightly shutting the front door and locking it behind you. just the sight of the kitchen makes you tense, and when you walk in you’re met with a clean kitchen table and floor, no signs of there ever being a previous mess. you put the donuts away in the fridge to keep them fresh.

with a sigh, you exit the kitchen and start up tje stairs, footsteps light just in case the stairs creak. you step into your bedroom with a quiet sigh, and shut the door. the light from the en suite bathroom shines through the cracked door, and you can hear joshua in there. grabbing some pajamas, you pull on a tshirt just as joshua comes into the room. “hey,” he says, voice soft.

“hi,” you tug the shirt over your head and toss your other clothing items into the hamper. he lingers near the bathroom door with his arms crossed over his chest, watching you as you make yourself busy with little things.

“we need to talk about earlier,” joshua says. you don’t look up at him as you apply hand cream.

you take a moment before responding. “okay,” you breathe out, roughly massaging the lotion into your skin. you hear joshua shuffle on the other side of the room.

“you can’t yell at her like that,” joshua says gently. you sit up and stare across the room at a family photo, blinking a few times.

“i know. but i asked her six times to do something, and she still didn’t even do it. you need to let me discipline her,” you say, finally looking over at him. he uncrosses his arms to run a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh as he does.

“she’s just a baby.”

“she’s seven.”

“she’s a little girl, honey,” joshua says, like that changes anything. you two are usually on the same page when it comes to disciplining her, though she doesn’t really get disciplined because she’s an good kid. you thought he’d understand your frustration today, but he doesn’t and you feel like your back is against the wall.

the fight in you is gone, though a flicker or your earlier anger lights inside of you upon hearing him talk. “okay, and i shouldn’t have to tell her to do something six times. she should just do it the first time,” you say, looking at him pointedly. he pokes his tongue in his cheek, and you know he doesn’t agree with you and is holding back whatever he wants to say. “and, i don’t need you to step in when im trying to teach her something. you need to let me parent her.”

“are you implying that i don’t parent her?” he asks, head tilting to the side. you squeeze your eyes shut and swallow the frustrated groan at the back of your throat.

“i’m not implying anything. im telling you that you need to let me teach her things, without interrupting me. because she’s going to think that she can get out of everything if she looks at you,” you say. joshua purses his lips and looks down at his feet, nodding slowly. “you have to stop babying her, joshua.”

asking him to do that is like asking him to recolor the sky: it’s impossible. one look at her and his entire backbone shatters. it’s sweet sometimes, until you need him to enforce some rules.

“fine, alright? but you can’t yell at her like that. you heard how she cried afterwards,” he says, his voice less gentle than before. you blink at him and drag a hand down your face. you’re ready to put this conversation to bed—nothing feels like it’s going to get resolved tonight. “she was scared, baby. remember that night when i met your dad? she had that same look on her face.” your stomach drops at the memory.

the first time you let joshua meet your dad was also the last time he saw him, until your daughter was born. you were in college, and had only been dating joshua for a few months, but you felt so sure about him. he was the first person you felt so sure about, and it scared you, but you felt like in order for joshua to understand you and to love you, he had to meet your dad. he’d met everybody else in your family, but you were putting off him meeting your dad because of how your father is. the night started out fine, everybody was generally getting along with each other and joshua was fitting in. you were on edge, worried that something would happen so much so that you weren’t able to relax. you were running around trying to help your mom with the kitchen, be a good host to joshua, and avoid pissing off your dad.

and then it happened. you can hardly recall the reason now, since you’ve really tried to block it out of your memory, but you forgot a dish, or burned something that he wanted in particular, and he flipped out. you were in your twenties, so you didn’t have a problem standing up for yourself at that point. but because your new boyfriend was there, and it was humiliating that he was yelling at you like that in front of company, all you could do was cry. you begged him to stop with tears streaming down your face, begged him not to say things in front of joshua. he ignored your pleas as they only made him explode. joshua tried standing up for you, but your dad yelled at him too, claimed joshua was ‘disrespecting’ him, and told him to get out.

joshua left but took you with him. he kissed your mom and siblings goodbye, and whisked you out of the house. you were so embarrassed that you could hardly talk through the tears. you expected joshua to break up with you after that, and managed to ask if he was going to leave you. he stayed and proposed to you five months later, and you quietly eloped together, only a few of your friends knowing about it.

“i’m not like him,” you say, throat closing. joshua’s face falls and his features soften as your eyes well up with tears, already moving to walk over to you.

“no, you’re not,” he clarifies, sitting next to you on the bed and pulling you into his chest. you press your fists into your eyes and try to control your breathing while he softly rubs your back. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to upset you.” joshua whispers, kissing your head as you tremble in his arms. he keeps his lips pressed to your hair and lets you fight the tears, never once letting go of you.

your eyes ache from pressing against them and you pull your hands away, sniffing and trying to pull yourself away from him. joshua only holds onto you tighter which makes your eyes well up again, and you can’t believe you’ve been brought to tears more times tonight than in the year so far. “i left,” you mumble weakly.

“you came back.”

“but i left.”

joshua pulls back enough to look down at you. you look up at him with sad eyes and he lets go of you to wipe your face. “and you came back. you’re nothing like him, baby. you’re a good mom, a good wife, and you care. you left, but you came back. water under the bridge,” he says, pushing your hair out of your face. you blink tears away as he peers down at you before leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“i love you. and im sorry,” you murmur, wiping under your eyes.

“i love you too, and we both have things to work on.”

you nod, and let him hold you until you eventually doze off, headache and all. you only wake up in the middle of the night because you’re uncomfortable, and move to your side of the bed. joshua still tugs you back into his chest and the two of you mange to stay that was until the morning.

when you wake, joshua is right behind you. he talks you down when you panic about facing your baby. “does she hate me?” you ask, wiping sleep out of your eyes.

“of course not,” he says, a small frown on his face. you want to tell him to wait until she’s a teenager, but he looks distraught enough at your question, so you just nod.

she’s asleep when you peek in her room, sprawled out on her small bed. you creep over quietly and kneel beside her, gently shaking her shoulder. she wakes up easily, stretching her short limbs before she opens her eyes. “mommy?” she mumbles, rubbing her eyes with a small yawn.

“hi, baby,” you say, smoothing a hand over her head. she looks up at you timidly, and your stomach knots. “did you sleep okay?” she nods and you give her a small smile. “mommy’s sorry, baby. i didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“it’s okay,” she says, sitting up. it’s not, but you’ll take her accepting your apology. “can i have a hug?” her voice is small, and makes you want to cry because she doesn’t have to ask you for that.

“of course, baby,” you say, wrapping yourself around her and pressing a kiss to her cheek. your hold her for awhile, until she starts to struggle against you. “i got you something.” you say once you loosen your hold around her. her eyes light up and you smile, scooping her up and heading downstairs.

you pull the box of donuts out of the fridge snd she gasps when you open the lid. you let her have a whole donut for breakfast, and promise her half of one after dinner. you apologize again, and she tells you that it’s okay again. one day, you’ll let her know that she can’t just say ‘it’s okay’ whenever somebody apologizes, but for now you let it be.

[dootznbootz]

Odysseus always trusted Penelope. He was ordered to lie to her and it hurt him to do so. Penelope was distrustful of this stranger until she had absolute solid proof.

There are way too many people talking about how "Odysseus lies to Penelope. What a prick!" and it makes me sad/mad as that's not the case at all

The whole "Odysseus usually always has a reason to lie" maybe upcoming essay aside, He was literally commanded by Athena to not tell anyone. And it was with Penelope that he had the hardest time keeping up the act with. Not only because she's smart af and figured him out almost immediately (that essay coming soon too) but because he was trying to keep himself from crying with her.

I think people forget that he is disguised to look like someone else completely. If a random man claimed to be your missing husband, wouldn't you be scared/freaked out?

Anyways, the 3 most important people in his life are Penelope, Telemachus, and Laertes. He lies to all three.

Telemachus: Lied by letting Eumaeus answer him and still under the orders from Athena, did not cry or reveal himself until Athena allowed him to. (I read it as him being in shock. Last time he saw him, Telemachus' hand could only wrap around one finger and now he's as big as him. a bit shocking to say the least)

Laertes: He teared up seeing him but still decided to question and test his father, not by the order from Athena.

Penelope: He was trying so hard to keep from crying, tried to noodle his way out of lying to her, Under Athena's orders. still couldn't help but basically flirt with her.

Also to get this outta the way: No, it wasn't a matter of trust. He is shown to trust her right away. As this happens even before he gets the chance to speak with Penelope.

Staunch Odysseus glowed with joy to hear all this— his wife's trickery luring gifts from her suitors now, enchanting their hearts with suave seductive words but all the while with something else in mind.

(Book 18, Fagles)

If Odysseus does not trust her, why is he so happy to see her "flirt" with the suitors? It's because he KNOWS what she's doing and knows she doesn't actually want them. If he didn't trust her, he would be upset by this.

Now for the "it hurt to lie to her" bit.

Athena's command:

"Tell not a single person in the palace, man or woman, that you are back from your wanderings; but endure all vexations in silence and submit yourself to the indignities that will be put upon you.'

(Book 13, Rieu)

If you are my son—truly of our blood—                                            let no one hear Odysseus is back home. Don’t let Laertes know or the swineherd, or the slaves, or Penelope herself.

(Book 16, Johnston)

And the people he did reveal himself to, he only did so after being given permission by Athena.

Athene spoke to him. 'The time has come,' she said, 'royal son of Laertes, Odysseus of the nimble wits, to let Telemachus into your secret, so that the pair of you may plot the downfall and death of the Suitors and then make your way to the famous city. [...]

(Book 15, Rieu)

He talks to Telemachus before talking to Penelope.

I’ll stay here, so I can stir the servants even more— and your mother. As she laments, she’ll ask for each and every detail.”

(Book 19, Johnston)

Odysseus is already sweating about having to lie to her

The next part would honestly be me just inserting almost ALL the text for this so I'll go into a summary. It's all in Book 19.

Penelope asks him where he's from. And instead of answering, it's a tsunami of compliments. Calling her flawless. Comparing her to a king. etc, etc,

Probably because he couldn't help himself and had to babble about how wonderful she is Who wouldn't? before finally ending with "Please don't ask me where I'm from. It makes me sad."

Penelope, probably overwhelmed by his praise, immediately goes into how "her beauty left with her husband. It did not. And where did you say you were from again?"

"Fine! I'm from Crete..."

And we all know that as soon as she starts crying, after a lovely description of how her tears "melted", he talks about how hard it was for Odysseus to hold in his OWN tears. Lying to her and being unable to comfort her was painful for him!!!

But though Odysseus' heart was wrung by his wife's distress, his eyes, hard as horn or iron, never wavered between their lids, so craftily did he repress his tears.

(Book 19, Rieu)

I love Robert Fitzgerald's translation so as a treat:

[...] so her white cheeks were wetted by these tears shed for her lord--and he close by her side. Imagine how his heart ached for his lady, his wife in tears; and yet he never blinked; his eyes might have been made of horn or iron for all that she could see. He had this trick-- wept, if he willed to, inwardly.

(Book 19, Fitzgerald)

Even with him revealing himself to Euryclea, when she cried out to Penelope, Athena made sure she didn't hear! It's most likely that he wouldn't be able to tell her even if he wanted. Athena was planning something, just as Penelope was.

She spoke, and her eyes glanced over at Penelope, anxious to tell her that her husband had come home. But Penelope could not see her face or notice, for Athena had diverted her attention.

(Book 19, Johnston)

He desperately wanted to be with her again. Literally daydreaming about it!

At those words Dawn rose on her golden throne in a sudden gleam of light. And great Odysseus caught the sound of his wife’s cry and began to daydream—deep in his heart it seemed she stood beside him, knew him, now, at last …

(book 20, Fagles)

Clearly doesn't trust her. /sarcasm

It's PENELOPE that has trouble trusting him. And rightfully so! While she was very certain that was her husband, there was so much going on and of course, she's cautious! He looked like an elderly stranger at first, why is he hiding from her? He somehow took out all those men with only a little help, Athena isn't telling her anything, Helen was kidnapped and she did not want that to possibly happen to her too, etc.

He even understands her cautiousness to be reasonable.

As she spoke, lord Odysseus, who had borne so much, smiled and immediately spoke to Telemachus— his words had wings:   “Telemachus, let your mother test me in these halls. She will soon possess more certain knowledge. Right now I’m filthy, with disgusting clothing on my body. That’s why she rejects me and will not say I am Odysseus. [...]

(Book 23, Johnston)

He even trusted her completely to take care of everything while he was gone before. And he does again when he wakes up and goes to see his father. Telling her about how she too wise to need instruction

Odysseus (and Penelope as well) is well-known for his cunning tricks and how his loyalties are often blurred but one thing that is for sure about him is that he trusts and is loyal to Penelope full-heartedly. He spent every day missing her and their son and wanting to go home to her. The only moment we see his trust in her waver is during the Treebed scene, (which is what she wanted to test).

They are "like-minded". 😭

[glitterjay]

can u please please please write husbandgirldad!Jay x fem Reader (idol Jay) and he comes home after a long day of work and misses his wife

(smut)

⭒ husband!jay, idol!jay, wife!reader, married, they have 2 daughters, pet names, praising, soft dom jay, coming inside, there's some fluff, minors dni

⭒ c's note: i've become even more delulu because this man is soooo husband material 😞 i need him so bad its not even a joke anymore

⭒ taglist (open): @hollyoongs @fertilizedtoesw

please reblog if you like it! it helps me a lot

the idol life behind cameras was way harder than people imagined. the public eye does not see the amount of hard work and training idols have to go through every day to be able to give their audience an excellent performance. the support of fans is crucial for artists to be successful and so they had to fulfill things according to their preferences.

it was a big deal when jay wanted to put out in the light his relationship with you back when you were still boyfriend and girlfriend, but it was a risk he was willing to take. to both of your surprises, the news didnt receive as much backlash as you expected, with some people saying jay was already an adult tat knew what he wanted, and it was his life to live anyway.

now you were openly his wife, and you and your two girl were known of. the only difference was that nobody knew who his wife or kids were. your relationship had been open ever since you were just dating, but for your privacy and now your girls' sake, jay never put your faces to the light.

he was preparing for a comeback, so he was hardly home during the day, and was only there at night to rest and then went back to work early in the morning. your two daughters said they missed their dad, and that they wanted to play with him and see him in person, not through facetime like they had grown used to for the past month. it was hard to tell them he was busy, but it was all you could say.

promotions would be over eventually, and he'd be back home for a while before the company decided to give him another comeback. it was tough to get used to at first, but the routine became a part of you.

-

it was already pretty late at night. your oldest daughter who was already 6 years old had gone to bed after a shower while you tried to comfort your crying 3 year old. she was a little irritated because she was tired, but she kept repeating the word "dada" over and over. it broke your heart, but it was too late to keep waiting, and she was evidentially falling asleep as the seconds passed.

as you tried to sing her to sleep, you heard the front door open. it had caused her to open her eyes again, and she started crying once more. you sighed and took her with you to the living room to greet your husband, who smiled as soon as he saw the both of you enter his field of vision.

"what is this little one doing awake?" he asked, taking the little girl from your arms to hold her in his. she quickly laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, it was as easy as that. she missed her dad and you couldnt blame her for it.

"she was being grumpy and stubborn. she wanted to wait for you and refused to sleep. our oldest princess couldnt make it, she went straight to bed on her own like a big girl."

jay laughed and kissed the little girl's temple, giving you a kiss on the lips after. "i'll put her to sleep with her sister and then we can catch up, mmkay?"

-

it was very sweet to see your busy husband make some time to see his daughters even if he was exhausted. he was leaning on the frame of their room's door staring at them with glistening eyes. it was the same look he had on his face when they were born. you would stay up for him and you would ask how things were going with his schedules, but it didnt last long most of the time. you were both tired, him from all the training, and you from doing everything around the house and taking care of the kids. being a mom is a full time job as well.

you waited for him in your shared bed, already getting comfortable as he changed his clothes. you laid on your side, your back facing his part of the bed, and you sighed. the day had seemed to be longer and more tiring than other, and you didnt think you'd stay awake much longer.

you felt the other side of the bed sink as jay laid down, quickly pressing his chest to your back, hugging you tightly and giving you kisses all over your neck and shoulders. you missed him. his scent, his voice, his touch. it didnt take much time for you to feel his hips moving under the covers, something rock solid poking your ass. jay was still incredibly close to you, and you could feel him breathing on your ear. his hands roamed your body, tickling your tummy as they passed by every inch of skin he could possibly touch. you closed your eyes and melted on his arms.

his hands found a stop on the hem of your sleeping shorts, sliding in past your panties as well to touch where you needed most. you let out a shaky gasp, throwing your head back to rest it on jay's body. he was still busy kissing all over your neck and shoulders, biting and licking as well. his hand was doing wonders to your clit and hole, it was a charm that was still there despite all this years.

in all honesty, jay missed all the intimacy you used to have as boyfriend and girlfriend, which was soon lost when his girls, who were his pride and joy, came into the world, and his busy schedules. the stress was starting to pile up on his shoulders, and there was nothing else he longed for more than having you all to himself like he used to.

he removed the covers that were covering both of you, and hovered over your body. he positioned himself between your legs, and stayed there for a good minute just admiring you. for some reason, his gaze made you feel intimidated, and you looked away. this caused him to reach for you face and force you to look up at him again. "is it just me, or do you look more stunning as the days go by?"

it was like your first time all over again. the sweet talk, the ghosting touches, the nervousness, the excitement that came with it, it was just beautiful. jay was quick to get his, and your lower half naked. his dick was free and for a moment your eyes almost popped out of their sockets. was he always this big?

he aligned his tip with your entrance and you saw him throw his head back at the contact. he was overly sensitive and he could've sworn the rest of his life flashed before his eyes. there was just something about you that made him go crazy in every sense, and not being able to have a moment like this in a long time had thrown him over the edge.

once he was fully in, he let you adjust for a few seconds. your walls were clenching hard on him, swallowing his cock entirely. he wanted to move, he wanted to thrust, he wanted to make you scream, but it wasnt the same as before. there were two girls soundly asleep in a room a few steps away. he had to go slow and plus, he wanted the moment to last as long as it could.

he was gentle, moving with a steady but not too fast pace. your hands held to his strong arms, which held your waist tightly. the ring on your hand was glowing and so was the one on his hand. it was a cute thing to see. jay could see the way his pace made your body move up and down and it was an amazing sight to watch.

"missed you so fuckin' much." he said between thrusts.

all you could do was groan and gasp in return. you were biting your lip to retrain your noises as much as you could. you knew that if you replied with words, your own voice would betray you, and jay would definitely make you moan out loud on purpose.

" 'm gonna make you mine again."

his words were not only directed at you, but at your pussy as well. his right hand left your waist to play with your clit, and you had to let go of his arms to cover your mouth. jay knew you were close by the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and how you body was starting to shake.

"fucking hell, you're so hot. cum for me, baby."

and right on command, you released on him, gasping for air as you tried to push him away with everything you had. it had been a long time since you came this hard, it was overwhelming to still have him inside you. to your dismay, he would keep going until he was done.

"hold on a little bit, honey. you're doing so well for me."

it was hard to hold in a scream, and jay was aware of it. the hand that was once playing with your bundle of nerves made its way to your face, where he inserted to fingers into your mouth.

"that a girl. stay busy, love. let me use you while i can."

with groans and low moans, he came inside you. the warm sensation made you have yet again another orgasm, and your sight became fuzzy. there was a ringing in your ears from the rush that died down quickly when you felt your husband kissing your thighs to soothe you up.

"im sorry for finishing inside like that," he said. "it just had been so long since i last did it.. three years to be exact."

you laughed it off with the last bit of energy you had left, and signed for him to get closer with your hand. you grabbed his face and kissed him passionately. "thankfully, i've been on the pill ever since."

"bummer, i wanted a third."

© glitterjay

[dipperscavern]

let's talk about warming cregan's cock 😇👫

like you have so keenly established, mf can not sit still. this is the warden of the north we are referring to. the wolf of the north. he is well experienced in battle, a brilliant swordsman and lord of his house. he's used to abstaining during battle and experiencing dire circumstances over patience. surely he'd be able to let his pretty girl warm his cock?

WRONG 🙅‍♀️ someone, please fetch me a comedically large red buzzer to slam. thank you.

he's so restless. your stoic, burly, reserved, and patient man - reduced to ragged breaths and gritting his teeth because he can't sit still. here sits his pretty girl, batting her lashes at him, "cregan, can i please?" and it starts out well enough.

but you're so warm. so sweet. maybe he should be working on something - battle plans or lordy duties that define his bloodline. cregan's got an active mind, ever analyzing and preparing. he's hyperaware of everything in that moment - the way you slightly move your hips, wriggling in his lap. when he makes a comment about it, you just pout, telling him you were "adjusting." 🙄 yeah girl okay you just wanted to feel the godly girth 3000

the way you softly sigh admist the quiet chamber. maybe you do something as simple as sneeze - but when you do, you clench around cregan. and he's losing his shitttt.

can someone please find the meme of the guy sitting at a desk with his blood vessels about to burst as he's sweating? because that is our lord stark.

he tries breathing through it, for your sake. i imagine you would be the one to propose it, for whatever desire and circumstance brought you to the moment. cregan is trying :(( it's just so hard. like him, TEHE. all he wants to do is flip you over and ravage you. just leave little bites and nicks along his pretty girl's flesh :((

this is torture for him.

- 🔄❄️

reverse. elsa. anon. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? BED EMPTY, NO NOTE, WINTER GONE.

okay but seriously i am so so so sorry you got lost in my inbox. please i beg of you, come back!! the ponderer has returned, and we miss u!! REVERSE ELSA ANON IF U CSN HEAR US PLEASE SAVE US i call out to the winds. if you return, you shall never be lost again. this i swear to you 💔✊

ANYWAYS. CREGAN STARK COCKWARMING. here’s your buzzer m’dear 🚨 when you suggest the idea, cregan is a bit perplexed. you don’t want him to make you cum as many times as you want? but you bat your lashes and ask so sweetly, and you don’t ask for much. plus, cregan is a warrior. a hardened, battle surviving lord — he can stay still for his pretty wife.

or so he thinks.

because once you sink down on him, his grip on your hips is like iron. you’re warm and wet and so inviting, and you don’t want cregan to move? gods have mercy. cregan is usually pretty held together, but his breathing turns all ragged and his gaze is glued to where his [REDACTED] meets your [CONTENT DELETED]. and even worse, you’re relishing in his loss of self control.

even so, he tries to be so good for you.

it gets easier over time, and when cregan feels you relax and sigh against him, he thinks it’s not so bad after all. cregan is in control, and things are okay. until a few minutes later, you sneeze. you clench around him, and he grits his teeth, lax grip on your hips tightening once more as he fights the urge to move.

“This is torture,” he breathes, trying with all his might to stay still for you :( <3

[babygirl-riley]

Growing Pains

this art work belongs to my all time favorite CoD fan artist. @ave661

Simon holds his baby thinking about when you announced that you were pregnant.

Warnings: fluff, smut, swearing, dad!simon

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family edition

Simon held onto his baby girl as she slept on his chest. She wore his favorite pants she has, skulls littering all over the grey of the shorts and just a simple shirt. Socks covering her feet so she didn’t get cold. He patted her back and rubbing up and down.

Never did he think that he would have a child. Let alone a baby girl. Simon thought about how he wouldn’t be the best dad and was afraid to be one. When meeting you that was the first conversation you both had.

“No kids.” He mumbled sipping his tea as you flipped a pancake.

“No kids,” You repeated. “Then you buy plan Bs since you don’t like condom nor pulling out.”

Simon chuckled at that. You were right he hated both. He loved to feel you gummy walls as the tightened around his cock. And he loved the thought of his cum coating your walls. “Fine.” He said softly standing up to walk to you and kiss your neck.

Five years later the topic was brought up. This time it wasn’t cause of not having one. “Simon,” You whispered through the phone. He knew this voice. Something happened. Something not good. He was gone on an assignment for three months. You have been wanting to mention to him about the forming bump before he got home. This time you had to. You couldn’t have him come home to that. “I’m pregnant.”

Simon thought he heard wrong. He had to. There isn’t anyway. “You sure?”

You sighed tears rolling down your face. Sob coming out. That’s when it hit him. It was true. You sobbed telling him you are terrified and didn’t know what to say. Simon stayed silent. He didn’t know what to do or say either. After a couple of minutes and you stopped talking. His heart was ripping he wanted to comfort you yet he was fucking terrified. “How far along?”

“3 months.”

Simon wanted to laugh. Of fucking course. This had to be a joke. You knew his thoughts about having kids. His thoughts would go back to his dad and what he would think about if he was a dad. Turn like his own. “‘Ight,” He sighed rubbing his painted eyes with his glove. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Price knew something was up with Simon when he was trying to take his time to go home. Usually he would be the first out. “Ya still here?” Price asked walking to him. Simon just nodded. “You and the Misses fight?”

Simon sighed shaking his head. “She pregnant.”

Price was taken a back. “Pregnant?”

Simon sighed once more. “I don’t know what to do.”

Price chuckled actually chuckled and loud. Price rubbed his chin taking out a cigar. “That’s what I said too Simon.” Both Simon and Price sat against Simon’s truck talking about pregnancy and what Price’s wife went through. What to expect. Especially not to be scared. Price explained that you were already terrified. Especially since this wasn’t planned.

When he walked through the door, it was dark and quiet. You were in bed, he did take long of coming home. When he took off his boots and clothes, showered before crawling into bed. Watching your body rise and fall from your sleep. When he started to wrap his arm around you, he felt it. The bump. The form. The child. He rubbed your stomach. “Alright kiddo. You win.” He whispered, pulling you closer.

The next day you woke up last (per usual). You noticed that it was recently warm, knowing that he just got out. You saw a distant light illuminating the hallway. You got out putting on your favorite robe, that kept you warm. Noting that it started to shrink. :(

When you reached the kitchen, he was in the back balcony. Mug in hand. Watching the sun come over the hills. You stepped out, having him turn to you, he moved his hand to grab yours and kissed its palm, before placing on your stomach. “‘M scared.” He whispered.

You put your hand over his and nodded. “I am too.”

Simon was silent looking at your belly. “What if I…” You placed your finger against his lips and walked around to straddle his hips.

“I’m going to stop you right there, I could tell you many ways how you are not your father,” You explained, he looked up at your face you massaged the back of his scalp. He sighed into it. “You might be tough skinned but you also have the biggest heart Simon.”

Simon sat there watching your smile, your eyes full of adoration. He smiled and placed a hand on your cheek. You leaned into it closing your eyes, feeling his warmth radiating. “I love ya so much.” He mumbled kissing you on the lips.

The next couple of months it was amazing. Simon would hold you, help out with putting on shoes when your feet would disappear. Rubbed your belly and hummed to the baby. He would kiss your stomach. He even lifted your tummy so you could have some relief. Soon enough Simon was coming more and more on terms with having a baby. With you. Having a mini both of you running around.

When she was born he was late, he was just landing as he sprinted to his truck. Soap pattering along with. As Soap drove Simon was on the phone with your mom who was informing him of the early birth. Saying you were alright just the baby was ready to be born. Simon was worried that he wouldn’t make it in time as Soap drove through the streets in high speeds.

Simon was throwing his gear off as much as possible. At least look decently alright, he would mess with his blond locks as he sprinted inside the hospital. Nurses guided him to the room that he heard painful screams. When he walked through, you were pushing already. “Si.” You whispered reaching for him.

Simon ran to your aid, holding your hand as the doctor would encourage you to push. Simon kissed your forehead with the breaks as you leaned into him. “You’re late.” You joke smiling at him. He smiled and brushed your sweaty hair out of your face. Before he could make a joke to you the doctor ask for one more push.

Simon thought you were beautiful, sweat and all. Most of all he felt terrible about the pain you were enduring. After one last squeeze of your hand and loud scream. A loud wail came from the bottom of you. You laid back in relief as you panted for some air. Simon was frozen as they moved his little girl over to clean her up.

You watched them then turned to Simon. “Go see her.” You whispered drawing circles into his hand. He looked down at you and immediately you knew he was scared yet excited. “It’s okay.”

Simon nodded once and walked over to his bay girl. The nurses moved over (even though they didn’t need to since he towered over them.) He watched as her face would change into scrunching then not. She started to whimper instead of crying. The doctor looked up at Simon and smiled. “You ready dad?”

Simon nodded once as they passed the bundle of blanket over. She was tiny in his arms. The doctor explained where to hold and placements. You watched as you teared up, watching your boyfriend of all people being told how to hold a baby. Your baby. His baby. Simon looked up at you, tears brimming in his eyes as he walked to you carefully.

You reached out for both you and the baby. “Ya did good lovie,” he whispered into your hair as he gently placed the baby against your chest. “I love you.”

You looked over at him as you smiled, tears falling down. “We did baby, I love you so much.”

Simon held onto her tighter as he remembered that day. The day he felt so many emotion for one little thing. She cooed and was chewing on her hand, Simon kissed her forehead as she cooed. “How you changed everythin’. Ya know?” He whispered picking her up to view her face.

She giggle as she reached for his face. Simon smiled as kissed her nose, she wiggled her head and laughed. Simon brought her closer smiling, she grabbed his face, as their forehead together. “I love you.” He said smiling as she grabbed the back of his hair.

He slowly pulled her hand out of his hair. You stood in the hallway watching as he laid her down on her tummy to teach her crawling. Your heart swelled watching quietly when he had his moments like that. All that mattered is that he became better than his own father.

[surielstea]

Giver and Receiver

Kinktober day 3: Worship + Thigh Riding

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Courtesan!Reader

Summary: Eris teaches Reader what it’s like to be on the receiving end of pleasure.

Warnings: Minors dni | 18+ only | overstimulation | praise kink | name calling (whore, angel, darling) | thigh riding | heavy worship | dom/sub dynamics | slight angst (HEA) | fingering | p in v

A. Note: I cooked with this one I fear, mostly smut but when there IS plot you better believe it’s good.

7.2k words.

I walked into the throne room behind my Madame, a forced sultry smile on my red-painted lips, my hands clasped tightly behind my back, my posture straight as I peered up at the High Lord of Autumn through my lashes.

I was positioned in a line of seven other girls, all from the same business as me.

"Lord Beron," My Madame purrs, bowing at the waist, her short greying hair flowing with her as she dipped her head. We all followed suit, as instructed.

"Rise." He commanded and we obeyed, standing tall under his scrutinizing gaze. His eyes roamed over us for what felt like an eternity. Cold, analytical.

"Vedika is our most valued, and expensive girl," My Madame says after a moment of thick silence, placing her hands on the girl next to me. I swallowed thickly, steeling my features the way Vedika did. She was such a natural when it came to stuff like this, I envied her for it more than I envied her beauty.

I always struggled during The Choosing, especially by royals. They were so entitled, thought it was in their right to treat us more like objects than human beings, and perhaps it was, because we were harlots, the lowest class in a High Lord's eyes, despite my Madame's organization being the most prestigious of all courtesan companies.

"Who's your youngest?" Lord Beron asked with an arched brow and my stomach knotted. Oh gods, he was the worst kind of male, wasn't he?

My Madame didn't miss a beat as her hands moved to Clarissa's shoulders, we truly were just money bags to her. "That would be my dear Clarissa, turned forty only a week ago." She said, her voice like silk, smooth and fluid.

"I'll take her," The High Lord said, waving his hand and beckoning the young girl over. My Madame went with her, outstretching her hand as one of the courtiers placed a small coffer of gold into her hands. My madame's eyes nearly popped from her skull.

"My lord, this is far too much for one girl's service," she crooned, her tone sugary, no doubt hoping for future business.

I released a quiet, shaky breath, allowing myself to relax as my nerves ebb. He didn't pick me, thank the gods he didn't pick me.

The high lord didn't even cast her a glance, too focused on the girl he plucked from us as he said, "Give the others to my sons," He waved us off with a dismissive hand and my stomach lurched. "But be discreet, my wife needn't know I have whores roaming the manor," Beron ordered, and again, my Madame bowed, the rest of us following suit, as always.

My hands slightly shook, but I clasped them together behind my back and steeled my expression. Being chosen by a High Lord was one thing— at least he had some sort of leash, the crown bound him to some extent. But his sons? The ones who most likely had no chance of being heir anyway? They had nothing to lose. They could kill me and no one would bat an eye, one whores life for a royals entertainment. It happened more often than one might think.

I stifled my shallow breaths as we left the room, my Madame giving each of us directions to a Vanserra's room. Vedika glanced over at me, her warm brown eyes soft, and comforting.

Vedika taught me everything I knew, everything. She often stuck her neck out for me, in my first years as a mere seventeen-year-old I had told her I was terrified of the male I was assigned— so she offered her services for half the price to the male, and he was quick to ditch me for her. She returned later that night littered with bruises and marks, to this day I still don't think I could ever repay her.

"Vedika, you can go to the youngest of the brothers, he's the first door on your left, a real charmer apparently," My Madame hums. "A reward, for all the money you bring me," She purrs.

Vedika bows low, proper. "Thank you, mistress," She said, her voice soft and as lovely as a summer's night. She stood upright and gave me one last lingering look before disappearing down the hall.

"And you," My Madame sighs, looking me over. "The oldest will do for you," She clicks her tongue, hands coming to my shoulders, fixing my posture.

I bit down on my lip to stop it from trembling. The eldest Vanserra was known for his cruelty, renowned for the way he had treated The Morrigan, his former fiancée.

"Perhaps he'll beat some sense into you," Madame mused, clicking her tongue as she adjusted the sheer fabric of my gown. Her words hung in the air, and I wasn't sure if she meant them literally or figuratively. "Now, what do you say?"

I bow low, lower than Vedika had. "Thank you, mistress," I utter, willing my voice not to wobble.

"Go on then, last door down," She shoos. I rise from my bend and don't say another word as I stride down the hall, faux confidence in my movements as I pass every door, the sounds of moaning and grunting already being able to be heard from the adjacent rooms. My steps became more and more hesitant the closer I got to that last door, hands trembling as I came to a stop in front of it and raised my hand to knock.

I blinked away my fear and knocked twice, loud enough for him to hear without question, but still, delicate, to show that I was nowhere near a threat.

I rocked back on my heels anxiously, my stomach knotting itself into a tangled mess. The door swung open. I looked up, and up, and up. Meeting eyes of gold and amber and saffron.

I've heard talk of Eris Vanserra, but nowhere in his reputation did anyone mention how unfairly beautiful he was. His tousled auburn hair, brushed back like he'd run his fingers through it countless times, framed a face too sharp and striking to be kind. His skin, smooth and sun-kissed, was dusted with freckles over the bridge of his nose. His full lips parted, and I realized far too late that he was speaking to me.

"My, my," He smirked. "I'd say the gods have gifted me an angel if I didn't know any better." He crosses his muscular arms over his carved chest, leaning against the doorway and peering down at me. "What brings you to my chambers?"

"Your father..." I say, then wince. It'd most likely be best if I didn't mention his cheating, bastard of a father if my goal was to sleep with him. "I work for Madame Kamira's house," I explain, attempting my most sultry of voices. "We were called upon to service the Vanserra family, one for each son," I sum briefly, clenching my hands into fists behind my back, my manicured nails digging into my palms.

His eyes darkened with amusement as I clenched my hands into fists behind my back, nails digging into my palms. This was a game, and I was already losing.

Eris tilted his head slightly, his gaze flicking over me like I was something to be savored slowly, methodically. I fought to keep my breath steady, to maintain the façade of composure. My role here was clear: I was a courtesan, meant to please him, nothing more. The idea of taking anything for myself had never even crossed my mind. It wasn't allowed.

He pushed off the doorframe and stepped aside, motioning for me to enter. "Well then, let's see what all the fuss is about," he said smoothly, his voice a purr.

I hesitated for only a fraction of a second before crossing the threshold. His chambers were vast, dimly lit by the flickering glow of a hearth. The air smelled of smoke, cedar, and something faintly sweet, almost like cinnamon. Rich tapestries lined the walls, and a large bed dominated the room, draped in crimson and gold.

The door closed behind me with a soft click, the sound almost ominous in the silence. I could feel him watching me, and the weight of his gaze settled over my skin like a heavy, heated blanket. I prepared myself to do what I always did—to serve, to please. This was nothing new.

"Relax," Eris said, amusement dancing in his tone as he crossed the room, each step deliberate and predatory. "I don't bite. Not unless you ask me to."

I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening despite my best efforts. My hands still trembled slightly, but I clasped them in front of me, hoping to hide them. I'd been in situations like this before, but something about him—about Eris—was different. Dangerous.

"You seem nervous," he commented, his voice now closer than I expected. I turned slightly, only to find him mere inches away, towering over me with that same smug smirk on his lips.

"I'm not," I lied, though my voice wavered ever so slightly. I didn't understand why I felt so on edge. He was like every other male who'd paid for my company—so why was this different?

His amber eyes glinted with amusement as he reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. The touch was gentle, too gentle for someone with his reputation.

"Liar," he whispered, his breath warm against my skin.

My throat tightened, and I resisted the urge to shrink away. Instead, I tilted my chin up, meeting his gaze directly. Fine, I'd play this game.

"I'm here to serve you, my lord," I said, injecting as much confidence into my voice as I could muster. "How would you like me to begin?"

Eris chuckled, the sound low and rich, sending a shiver down my spine. "Bold," he mused, his hand trailing down my neck before dropping to his side. "But unnecessary. I have something else in mind."

Before I could ask what, he moved to the bed, sitting on the edge and leaning back slightly, his eyes never leaving mine. He patted his thigh once, a clear invitation.

Heat rushed to my cheeks, but I moved without hesitation, crossing the room to stand before him. His eyes darkened, the playful glint from earlier replaced by something deeper, more intense.

"On my thigh," he instructed, his voice soft but commanding. "Take your pleasure."

I froze. I couldn't have heard him right. Take my pleasure? No one had ever asked me to do that. I wasn't paid to find my own pleasure—I was paid to give it. I must've misunderstood. My body tensed, and confusion flickered across my face, though I tried to hide it. Surely he didn't mean—

"Go on," Eris coaxed, his amber eyes softening as he watched me hesitate. "Don't be afraid."

My breath caught. He wasn't telling me to focus on him—he wanted me to take control, to feel something for myself. The very idea felt foreign, like stepping into uncharted territory. But I couldn't let my confusion show. Not when he was watching me so intently.

With measured movements, I straddled his thigh, the smooth fabric of my gown brushing against his legs. His hands came to rest on my hips, holding me steady but not guiding me—he wanted to watch me, to see me take what I was never allowed to have.

"There's a good girl," he murmured, his fingers digging in ever so slightly, his approval radiating through his touch. "Now, get yourself off."

I bit down on my lip, my hands resting on his broad shoulders as I began to move. Slowly at first, testing, the friction of my core against his thigh sending jolts of heat through me. I wasn't used to this. It felt wrong, almost selfish. But his hands, his eyes—they were encouraging me to go on.

"Faster," he urged his voice a low rumble that sent another wave of heat pooling in my belly. "Don't hold back. I want to see how badly you need this." His words sent a shock through me, but I still didn't understand. I was supposed to make him feel good, wasn't I? Not myself. This was for his enjoyment, not mine. And yet, the way his hands gripped my hips, the way his eyes never left mine—he seemed more focused on me, on my pleasure, than anything else.

Eris's smirk faded slightly, replaced by something warmer, more patient. His hands guided me, helping me move against him, the friction intensifying with every roll of my hips. "Let go," he whispered, his voice full of command but laced with something softer. "This is for you. No one else."

I gasped, my grip tightening on his shoulders as the pleasure built inside me, coiling tighter and tighter. His praise, the way he was watching me so closely—it was almost too much. Every time his thigh flexed beneath me, it sent another wave of rapture through my body, until I was trembling with need. But I didn't know how to give in.

"You're beautiful like this," Eris whispered, his lips dangerously close to my ear. "Absolutely stunning."

His words were the final push I needed, and with one more roll of my hips, I shattered. A soft cry escaped my lips as pleasure tore through me, my body convulsing against his thigh. His hands held me steady, keeping me from collapsing as I rode out the wave of ecstasy.

For a long moment, I couldn't move, couldn't think. The only sound in the room was my ragged breathing, the world narrowing down to the heat of Eris's body beneath mine and the smug satisfaction radiating from him.

When I finally looked up, his smirk had softened into something almost, tender. He raised a hand to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing over my flushed skin.

"There you go," he murmured, his voice full of approval. "You did well, angel."

His praise sent a lingering warmth through me, and despite everything, I found myself leaning into his touch. For a moment, just a moment, it felt like more than just a transaction. But I knew better than to let myself believe it.

Eris pulled back, the heat in his eyes still simmering beneath the surface. "You're not done yet," he said, his voice a low growl that made my pulse quicken once more. "Nowhere near it, baby." Eris's grip tightened on my hips, pulling me more securely onto his lap. The warmth of his body seeped through me, and I fought to steady my breathing as the remnants of pleasure still pulsed through my veins. His hands, large and sure, never left me—there was no hurry in his movements, no sense of urgency. Only calm control, as if he had all the time in the world to coax another reaction out of me.

I was still reeling from what had just happened, struggling to comprehend it. To understand how someone like him, someone with such power, and such a cruel reputation, could be so patient. Could focus on me like this.

"Look at you," he whispered, his hands sliding from my hips to my waist, then upward, tracing the curves of my body with deliberate care. "You've never been worshiped, have you?" The words sent a shiver through me, a reminder of how foreign all of this felt. I should have felt more in control, and more confident, but instead, I felt, vulnerable. Exposed in a way I hadn't ever been before.

"I don't—" I started to say, unsure of how to finish. I didn't understand how this was supposed to work. I didn't know what he wanted from me. "How can I service you, My Lord?" I manage to say, despite my orgasm still consuming me down to my very bones.

Eris leaned in, brushing his lips lightly against the curve of my jaw, just beneath my ear. His breath was warm against my skin, sending a ripple of heat down my spine. "It's simple," he murmured. "You find release, and I find mine from watching you unravel."

Before I could respond, his hands began to move again, gliding down my sides with an almost reverent touch. Every caress was measured, and controlled, as though he was savoring every second, every inch of my skin. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

"Don't think," he said softly, his voice barely more than a breath against my neck. "Just feel." He cooed and my brain faltered when I tried wrapping my head around it. This was work, my job, I was being paid for this, this... idolatry.

"Good girl," he whispered, the praise low and warm. His hands continued their slow exploration, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, making me shiver. "I want you to get used to this."

I tensed, biting down on my lip to stifle the soft whimper that threatened to escape. Get used to what? This attention? This feeling? The thought of him focusing on me, of being the one receiving pleasure, still felt strange. But the way his hands moved, the way he murmured soft words of encouragement—it made something inside me melt.

"Eris, I don't... I'm not used to—" I started to say, but it was too much to even voice, to express.

"I know," he said, his voice soothing. "But you're going to learn because I'm going to teach you." He said against my throat, my heart raced, and for the first time, I allowed myself to believe him. To believe that maybe—just maybe—this wasn't about control or power or payment. Maybe he truly did want to give me something in return. Something that had never been offered to me before.

"Relax," Eris repeated, his fingers grazing the tops of my thighs, sending sparks of heat through my body. "Let me worship you."

Worship.

The word sent a tremor through me, and I couldn't stop the soft exhale that escaped my lips. Worship. I had spent years learning how to worship others, and how to make them feel like gods beneath my touch. But this, this was different. This was Eris Vanserra, a male of unimaginable power, offering to gods damned to worship me.

His hands continued their slow, deliberate path, moving higher, his fingers dancing over my skin with reverence. Every touch sent a new wave of heat coursing through me, and I felt my control slipping away, unraveling beneath his ministrations.

"You're tense," he said quietly, his voice full of understanding. "You don't have to be. Not here. Not with me."

My breath hitched as his hands moved back to my waist, pulling me closer to him. The warmth of his body pressed against mine, solid and grounding. I felt his lips brush against the shell of my ear, the sensation so delicate it sent a shiver through me.

"Let me take care of you," he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear in a ghost of a kiss. "Let me teach you what it's like to be praised."

My chest tightened the vulnerability of his words settling deep inside me. I didn't know how to let go. I didn't know how to take what he was offering. But I wanted to. Oh, gods, I wanted to.

Before I could overthink it, I nodded, the motion small, almost imperceptible. But it was enough.

Eris's smirk softened into something more tender, and he pressed his lips fully to mine, the kiss slow and deliberate. His hands roamed my body with respectful intent, each touch drawing more pleasure, more heat from me than I thought possible.

And for the first time, I allowed myself to revel in it.

His hands were everywhere. Not in a rush, but in a way that felt like he was memorizing every inch of me. His palms skimmed my sides, the curve of my waist, the softness of my thighs. He explored me like I was something precious, a treasure to be savored rather than a tool for pleasure. I'd never felt anything like it.

My mind struggled to catch up. This wasn't supposed to be how it went. I was meant to please him, to give. And yet here he was, still, making me feel like I was the center of the universe. Like he was here for me, and not the other way around.

His lips moved from my mouth, trailing down the side of my neck, his breath warm against my skin. A soft moan escaped me as his tongue flicked against the hollow of my throat, and I felt him smile against my skin.

His hands gripped the hem of my gown and slowly began to lift it. I inhaled sharply, my nerves flaring, but his movements were steady and patient. He paused, giving me the chance to stop him, but I didn't. I couldn't. My body, and my mind—they both craved more.

The gown slid over my hips, the cool air of the room hitting my heated skin as the fabric pooled around my waist. I could feel my pulse racing, could hear the soft rustle of the fabric, but all I could focus on was him—Eris. His hands were on me, his gaze drinking me in as though he had never seen anything more captivating.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. His hands rested on my thighs now, thumbs drawing soft circles over my skin, warming me with every touch. "Let me see all of you."

I hesitated, but there was no judgment in his eyes, only a desire that burned brighter than any fire in the Autumn Court. Slowly, I shifted, letting him lift my gown fully off of me, leaving me bare before him.

Eris's gaze raked over my exposed body, his pupils dilating as he took me in. But instead of feeling vulnerable or objectified like I had countless times before, I felt powerful. Wanted. Craved.

His hands slid back up my thighs, slow and reverent, until he reached the apex of my legs. My breath hitched, and I clenched my thighs together instinctively, but Eris's touch remained gentle, coaxing.

"Relax," he murmured, brushing his lips against my collarbone. "This is for you."

I exhaled shakily, the unfamiliar words settling deep inside me. He wasn't taking; he was giving. It was a concept I struggled to grasp—how could someone like him, a Vanserra, want me to take what I wanted?

His fingers grazed higher, parting my legs gently, giving me space to breathe as he settled between them. I bit my lip, the anticipation building with every second, with every brush of his hands on my skin. His gaze flicked up to mine, and the molten gold in his eyes was enough to make my breath catch.

"Be good for me, yeah?" he said again, his voice like a warm caress. His fingers moved between my legs, slow and teasing, brushing against my most sensitive spot.

The touch sent a shockwave through me, and I gasped, my hands clutching his shoulders for stability. His thumb circled my clit, gentle but firm, applying just the right amount of pressure. I could feel the tension building inside me, winding tighter and tighter with every stroke.

"Take what you need," he whispered, his lips ghosting over my jaw, my neck. "This is yours. I'm yours tonight."

I whimpered, my head falling back as the pleasure began to mount. His fingers worked me expertly, drawing out sounds I hadn't known I was capable of making. Every caress, every touch, was designed to make me come undone.

But as the heat built, I couldn't shake the disbelief. This was meant to be for him, wasn't it? I was supposed to serve. Yet here I was, trembling and teetering on the edge of something I'd never felt before, something overwhelming and wonderful.

Eris seemed to sense my hesitation because his hand slowed, his fingers teasing rather than giving, prolonging the agony. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. "You deserve to feel this," he whispered, his voice deep and rough with desire. "I want to hear you say it."

I could barely form words, could barely think past the haze of pleasure clouding my mind, but his command pulled something raw from me. "I— I deserve this," I whispered, the words trembling on my lips.

His smile against my skin was wicked, triumphant. "Attagirl."

And then, before I could fully process it, he slid two fingers inside me, slow and deliberate, filling me in a way that made my back arch off the bed. I gasped, my body instinctively pressing against his hand, craving more of that delicious friction.

"You feel so perfect," he breathed, his lips pressing hot kisses to my neck as his fingers moved in and out, setting a slow but torturous rhythm. "So tight."

I moaned, my hands fisting in the sheets as I rocked against his hand, chasing the pleasure he was so expertly giving me. His thumb returned to that sensitive spot, circling, teasing, driving me higher and higher.

I was on the edge, teetering between control and chaos, the tension building to a crescendo. His fingers thrust deeper, faster, and the coil inside me snapped, sending waves of pleasure crashing through me.

I cried out, my body convulsing as the orgasm ripped through me, leaving me trembling in its wake. Eris didn't stop, didn't relent—his fingers continued their delicious torment, drawing every last bit of pleasure from me until I was spent, gasping for air.

When I finally came down from the high, Eris withdrew his hand slowly, and gently, and I collapsed against him, my body trembling, my mind spinning.

"You're perfect," he whispered, his voice soft and full of reverence. "And I'm not done with you yet."

Before I could protest, he shifted, pulling me beneath him and laying me down on his enormous mattress, his body hot and solid against mine. I could feel his hardness pressing against my thigh, and I swallowed hard, my body still humming from the aftershocks of pleasure.

Eris leaned down, capturing my lips in a searing kiss, and I felt his hand slide between us, positioning himself at my entrance. He pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes molten with desire.

"You alright? Think you're ready for me?"

I nodded, breathless, my heart pounding in my chest and with a slow, deliberate thrust, Eris entered me, filling me completely.

I gasped, my elastic walls stretching around him, adjusting to the sensation of him deep inside me. The weight of his body, the way he fit perfectly between my thighs—it was overwhelming, like he was made for this, made to take me to places I'd never allowed myself to go.

He paused, letting me adjust, his gaze fixed on mine. There was something in the way he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered, like he could read every flicker of hesitation, every burst of pleasure crossing my face.

"Breathe," he murmured, his voice soft and coaxing. He brushed his lips against my jaw, the warmth of his breath grounding me. "You're doing so well, sweet girl."

I let out a shaky breath, nodding as I tried to relax into the sensation. His praise made something warm bloom inside me, something unfamiliar but not unwelcome. The tension that had coiled around me since I stepped into his chambers began to unravel, slowly giving way to something softer, more intoxicating.

He shifted his hips, moving within me, at a slow, languid pace that sent heat spiraling through my veins. Each thrust was controlled, and measured, like he was savoring every second, every sound that escaped me.

"I want to hear you," he whispered against my ear. "Every moan, every gasp. Don't hold back."

I bit my lip, stifling the sounds that threatened to spill over, but his next thrust, deeper and more purposeful, tore a moan from my throat. My body arched beneath him, seeking more of that delicious friction, more of the pleasure that was building between us like a fire.

Eris groaned softly, his breath ragged as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the curve of my shoulder. His hands gripped my hips, guiding me to meet his slow rhythm, each movement a reminder of just how much control he had—control he was choosing to give me.

"You feel so perfect," he breathed, his voice raw. "Like you were made for me."

The heat in his words, the way they wrapped around me like silk, made me clench around him. His pace quickened slightly, his control slipping just enough for me to feel the urgency building beneath the surface.

I let out a soft whimper, my hands grasping at his shoulders as I pulled him closer, needing more of him, needing to drown in the way he made me feel. It was too much and not enough all at once—every thrust bringing me closer to that edge, to the place where my body and mind could no longer resist.

Eris seemed to sense my rising need, his hips snapping forward with a little more force, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. His lips found mine again, devouring me in a kiss that was hungry, desperate. He swallowed my moans, his body grinding against mine in a way that made me lose all sense of the world outside of this moment.

"You're close, aren't you?" he rasped, his forehead pressed against mine. His hand slid between our bodies, his thumb finding that sensitive bundle of nerves between my legs, circling it with just the right amount of pressure. "I want to feel you come around me."

The way he touched me, the way his words wrapped around me like a command and a plea, it sent me hurtling toward the edge. I couldn't hold on any longer, couldn't resist the pull of the pleasure that built inside me.

I cried out, my body trembling beneath him as the orgasm ripped through me, stronger than anything I had ever felt before. My muscles clenched around him, dragging him deeper, and I could feel him groan, feel his body tense as he chased his own release.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Taking me so well." His pace quickened, his thrusts more erratic now as he sought his own pleasure, the fire in his eyes burning brighter as he watched me fall apart beneath him. I was barely coherent, my mind lost to the pleasure, but I could feel him—every inch of him, every sound, every touch, searing into my skin.

With a final, deep thrust, he groaned low and guttural, his body shuddering as he found his release inside me. The warmth of him, the way he collapsed against me, breathless and spent, sent aftershocks rippling through my body.

For a long moment, neither of us moved, the only sound in the room the soft, ragged breaths we shared. Eris's weight was comforting, and grounding, and I found myself clinging to him, my hands still tangled in his hair, my body still trembling from the intensity of what had just passed between us.

He shifted slightly, pressing a soft kiss to my temple, his hand brushing soothingly over my side. "You did so well," he whispered, his voice full of admiration. "So perfect."

I didn't know what to say, how to process the fact that someone had just taken the time to worship me, to make me feel something I had never been allowed to feel. But as I lay there, wrapped in his warmth, I couldn't help but feel... cherished. For the first time, I wasn't just a courtesan. I wasn't just here to serve.

He pulled back slightly, his fingers trailing over my flushed skin, his eyes soft as they met mine. "Are you alright?" he asked, genuine concern lacing his voice.

I nodded, unable to form words yet, still coming down from the high he had pulled me into. He smiled at that, a small, satisfied smirk that made my heart skip a beat.

After it was over, we lay tangled together, our bodies slick with sweat, my chest still heaving from the intensity of it all. Eris's breath was warm against my skin, his hands trailing over my back in slow, soothing circles. The quiet intimacy that followed the storm of passion was disarming, and unfamiliar. I was used to being dismissed, sent away with a few gold coins and a soul a little dimmer than when I had arrived.

But Eris, asked me to stay. So I did. He held me close, his touch reverent, as if I was something precious, something to be cherished, not discarded.

"You're trembling," he whispered against my temple, his lips brushing the area. "Are you cold?"

I wasn't, but I nodded anyway, unsure how to explain that the tremors were more from the emotional upheaval than any physical discomfort. Without a word, Eris shifted, reaching for the blankets and pulling them over both of us, wrapping me in warmth. His arm remained around me, pulling me back against his chest, his fingers stroking my arm gently. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt safe.

"Rest," he murmured, his voice soft and comforting. "You've earned it." It was an order I found myself willing to obey. My body, exhausted from the overwhelming pleasure, began to give way to the heavy pull of sleep. I hadn't realized how much I craved this—this gentleness, this quiet comfort. The idea that I could just be held, without expectation, without obligation.

Before long, the steady rise and fall of Eris's breathing lulled me into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When I woke, the room was bathed in the dim light of early morning. Eris was still beside me, his arm draped lazily over my waist, his face softened in sleep. I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and... and something else. Something I wasn't ready to name.

What had happened last night—what he had done to me—had altered something deep inside me. Eris hadn't just touched my body, he had touched a part of me I hadn't known existed. He had made me feel like more than just a tool for someone else's desires. At that moment, I hadn't been just a courtesan. I had been a woman, his woman, worthy of pleasure and tenderness.

But as the warmth of that realization settled over me, so did the cold truth. He was the son of a High Lord. I was nothing more than a whore.

The thought hit me like a weight in my chest, making it hard to breathe. This couldn't be real. Whatever had passed between us last night couldn't mean anything. It couldn't. And yet, the way he had touched me, the way he had looked at me—like I was something more—had shaken everything I thought I knew about my place in this world.

How could I ever go back to who I was before? How could I move on from this, from him, when he had shown me a version of myself I had never seen?

I turned my head slightly, studying the sharp lines on his face, and the soft fall of his red hair across the pillow. He was beautiful, yes, but more than that, he was dangerous—dangerous in the way he made me hope. Hope for something I had no right to even dream of.

But what other choice did I have?

I closed my eyes, swallowing against the lump in my throat. I had to be realistic. This was one night. One perfect, beautiful night, but it couldn't be anything more. He would go back to his life, to his duties as a lord's son, and I would return to Madame Kamira's house, to my place among the other courtesans.

Still, as I lay there in his arms, the warmth of his body pressed against mine, I couldn't stop the yearning that twisted deep in my chest. I wanted more. I wanted to know what other nights with him might be like, what it would feel like to be worshipped by him again, to be held like I was something precious. But even as the thought bloomed in my mind, I felt the sting of reality pulling me back.

Eris stirred beside me, his golden eyes fluttering open. He blinked a few times, focusing on me, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, I saw something soft in his gaze. Something that made my chest tighten with a dangerous mix of longing and fear.

"Good morning," he said, his voice warm and inviting. "I was afraid I'd dreamt you." His voice was still affected by sleep, deep and groggy.

"Oh? Did I leave that much of an impression?" I replied, a smile already tugging at my lips before I could stop it. "I'm very real."

"Thank the gods for that," he mused, propping his head up on his elbow and reaching over with his free hand, brushing my most likely messy hair from my face. The action was so simple, yet intimate. "And how do you feel? Last night was quite eventful."

"Eventful," I echoed softly, a slight laugh escaping my lips. "That's one way to put it."

Eris chuckled, the sound rich and deep, and it made my heart skip again. "I could come up with other words but I think you'd turn red if I did." He hummed, leaning closer, his nose brushing against mine.

"You might be right," I murmured, growing shy with our proximity— despite the fact that he had me grinding on him just last night. I glance away and to my relief, he rears back. "I have to admit, you surprised me," I confess.

He dips down, his lips brushing against my neck. "Yeah? How so angel?" He asked while pressing a soft kiss to one of the marks he left mere hours ago.

"You made me feel things I thought weren't capable," I utter, peering down at him.

His lips paused on my neck, his gaze flicking up, staring at me through his brows, studying me. "And what is it you felt?"

"Adoration," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "Like I was more than just, a service." I paused, swallowing the lump in my throat.

A slow smile spread across his lips, and he moved back up, his breath brushing against my cheek. "Angel, you’re not a service." His voice dropped to a teasing whisper. "You could've asked for anything last night, and I would've given it to you."

"Oh? Anything?" I teased back, arching a brow.

"Anything," he confirmed, his voice deepening as his fingers trailed softly down my arm. "You deserve to be adored. In fact, I rather enjoyed worshipping you."

I rolled my eyes, though my pulse was racing. "You have such a way with words, don't you?"

He smirked, not missing a beat. "You're just realizing this now?" He asked, running a hand up my shoulder, past my jaw to cup my cheek.

"Maybe," I shot back with a smirk of my own. "I was a bit, distracted last night." His thumb grazed my bottom lip as I spoke, his gaze never leaving mine.

"You weren't the only one." For a moment, the playful tone between us softened. My heart thudded against my chest as I realized how much I wanted to stay here, basking in his attention. His gaze flicked down to my lips and I quickly reminded myself of the reality we lived in—the boundaries we couldn't ignore.

"I should go," I said suddenly, my voice shaky as I slipped from his arms, pulling the sheets around me like a protective barrier. "I have other clients to tend to." The weight of my words settled heavily in the air, and I saw the flicker of disappointment cross his face, quickly masked by resolve.

"I'll see you again, won't I?" His tone was earnest as I slipped from the bed, pulling on my discarded gown and trying to ignore the way his eyes never left my figure once.

"Depends, will you call for me?" I tilt my head with a teasing smile, he looks up at me, tucking a muscular arm behind his head— it was an effort not to slip back into bed next to the heir.

"Every night, if I have to," He grinned like a cat.

"Careful, you'll run out of money before you know it," I taunt, reaching down and brushing a tuft of red hair from his forehead, I hadn’t meant to— but my body wasn’t my own when I was around him.

"You seem to underestimate how deep my pockets go, sweetheart," He purred, I ran my fingertips down the side of his face in a caress as gentle as a lovers.

"Do I?" I ask playfully, and he catches my wrist before I can brush my thumb over his slightly swollen lips. His hold was soft, yet as immovable as iron, a warning.

"I might just buy you all for myself if you keep teasing me," He suggests and my breath hitched at the idea. He arches a brow.

"You like that idea?" It was his turn to smirk. "Leaving your Madames house and becoming my personal whore," His hand slipped into mine, bringing my palm to his lips and kissing it gently. "Lover behind closed doors?" He suggests and I swallow thickly, not allowing myself to even imagine the fantasy— nor think about how desperately I wished for that.

"And when you grow bored of me?" I ask. "Will you cast me to the streets?"

He looked as if he might have scoffed at the idea if it weren't for the glimmer of hope he caught in my eyes. "Bored of you? My angel, I've only laid with you for a night. It'll be lifetimes before I'm done with the list of things I wish to do to you." He purred and my heart fluttered, gut twisting at the promise of pleasure. "Are you sure that's what you want?" He added and I doubt I had ever nodded in agreement to something faster in my life.

"Yes— please," I blurt and he chuckled, kissing my palm again.

"Then come back to bed, and when your Madame comes to riot for your return I'll give her triple what she thinks you're worth," He declared and I blushed, unsure what to say to convey how eternally grateful I was. He tugged on my hand and all I could do was get back into bed beside him.

"My angel," He whispered softly, and his next words seemed to leave a mark on me more permanent than any of the ones he had given to me last night. "You deserve every dream you've dared to wish for, let me give them to you.”

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