#crawling into bed now... work in the morning... cries...

[girlfox]

i may have just finished a 2.5 hour test and my brain may have turned into pudding but, i did make this with my last ounce of energy. (＠´ー`)ﾉﾞ

[queers-gambit]

God's Plan

prompt: your boyfriend carries the worst parts of his job home, bringing to life one of your deepest-seeded insecurities. or when Carmy calls you clingy.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader -> pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 3.3k+

note: she's short. she's to the point. author doesn't want to hear a GODDAMN THING about "glorifying" toxic relationships. shut the fuck up, eat your cereal, read the fic or just scroll away.

warnings: cursing, small angst, short fic, author mildly gave up, hurt with no real comfort, allusion to toxic family relationship, insecurity, not edited.

part two: Two to Tango

"Hey, what're you still doin' here?"

You glanced up from your computer, smiling at your coworker, "Just trying to get the study notes finished so they can be used for the analysis."

"Okay...? But you realize what time it is, right?"

You hummed, glancing at the analog clock, "Just about 7?"

"Yeah, so, go home," she chuckled. "Work's still gonna be here tomorrow."

"I'll see you then," you dismissed softly, watching her smile and turn away from your desk. You tried to get back into work, but the truth was, you felt overly burned out, but still wanted to work because it'd make you feel better being "good" at your job.

So, in reality, you didn't get home until 10:56 pm, yet still beat Carmy. You ate something simple, cleaned up, got a shower, and crashed into bed. You didn't know the time, but Carmy eventually came home; his arm heavy around you when settling for sleep.

You were the first up and out the door the next morning, just barely seeing Carmy when he got up for coffee. You managed a single kiss before rushing away, needing to get to work on time. When you got there, your entire morning was blocked for client meetings, then you took lunch, later, team meetings, and then the last hour or so of work was meant for individual recreation.

Another day of staying late, trying to finish work you thought was important. Another day of getting home late, missing your man, going to bed, and only seeing him the following morning.

However, this time at work, your boss told you that the analysis meetings were pushed back by a week... So, technically, you stayed late and busted your ass for no literal reason! And your coworker's entire cup of coffee spilled on you. And your Outlook email was under maintenance, so, you couldn't really work. And then, to top off a really shitty week, your car was hit in the parking lot and now had a huge fucking dent.

You were beat.

You were overwhelmed.

You were miserable, stressed, righteously confused.

You didn't stay late that night. Instead, you left at a normal hour and texted Carmy:

what time do you think you'll be off?

He replied when you got to your car:

maybe around 8?

You sniffled, nodding, answering:

okay, see you when you get home.

As you exited the parking lot, he replied:

what? you're off?

And you answered:

yeah, couldn't stand being there much longer. think you could get off a little early?

When you made three turns, he sent back:

i'll try, peach 💙

When you got home, you felt utterly defeated. Life felt like a never ending shitshow that refused to alleviate most of the stress you forced to endure. You were in tears by the time you got in the door, angrily stripping and getting a long, hot shower. You cried a little longer. When you got out, you got dressed in cozy shorts and one of Carmy's sweatshirts; going about a few household chores when you realized it was already past 9.

You didn't really want to, but you texted Carmy again,

hey, are you gonna be much later?

You made a simple meal, eating it in silence. When you were doing dishes, Carmy answered,

i don't know, going over menu items with syd. text you on my way home

You just went to bed, exhaustion from the week catching up to you.

Sometime later, you felt Carmy crawl into bed beside you. You were only half awake, but still turned over and nestled into his chest, hearing him sigh. "You're home late," you mumbled.

"Sorry f'wakin' you, Peach," he whispered, pecking your forehead. "You good, baby?"

"S'been a long fuckin' week," you squeezed him.

He sighed, "Sorry it was rough, Peach, but hey, hey, back up a little, 's kinda warm."

"But I haven't seen you."

"I know, but it's just warm. We'll cuddle in the morning, okay?" You only sighed and turned back over to face away from him. You resettled with your pillow, just settling when he asked in a hardened tone, "You mad?"

"No, Carmen, go to sleep."

"You sound mad."

"I'm not."

"I don't mean to piss you off, it's just been a long night f'me and I don't want to cuddle right now," he said in a sharp tone that made your stomach coil and churn.

"Shut up, I'm not mad, Carmen, go to sleep."

He scoffed, your irritation spiking. "You're really fucking mad 'cause I don't want you laying on me right now?"

"No, Carmen, Jesus - "

"Callin' me fuckin' Carmen doesn't help," he snapped.

You sat up and turned to him, "You want me to be mad? Maybe I'm a little pissed off that I've barely seen my boyfriend this week! Not like you've made an effort to speak to me, but I've had a pretty shitty time at work, too - so, excuse the fuck outta me for feeling disappointed!"

"Disappointed in fucking what, Peach? In not wanting t'cuddle right now?"

"Maybe, yeah! I'm upset, stressed out, maybe I just wanted some comfort, God! Now you're all up in arms, I just wanted to go to sleep - but no, you want to pick at me!"

"Oh, Jesus, fucking Christ! You couldn't just talk to me about you having a shitty week, you gotta be laid up on me? When the fuck did you get so Goddamn clingy and desperate for fucking attention? Huh? So fucking desperate for love? Sorry you had a shitty week, darling, but you're not alone in that. Sorry if it's fucking hot and I just want to sleep."

Feeling yourself fighting a losing battle because he wasn't listening, you just sighed, "Okay, Carmen."

He scoffed again, turning over to face away from you, "Know what? Fuck you, sweetheart."

You stared at his back for a long minute, feeling shocked by his words. "You can be such a fucking dick, you know that?" You snapped, standing from bed.

"And you can be a dramatic bitch."

"Yeah, that's me, the bitch you chose, huh!?" You rolled your eyes and nodded sarcastically; taking the blanket from the end of the bed, figuring he wouldn't miss it since he was so fucking hot. With only your phone and charger, you went out to the living room and crashed on the couch; covering up and crying quietly into a pillow from the overwhelming stress built in your chest. You felt guilt plunging your stomach, tearing it apart; feeling as if it were your fault for having physical touch as a love language.

Sleep evaded you that night. About an hour before your alarm, you called in sick and shut your phone off, resettling in misery as Carmy left the bedroom for work. You didn't move, never opened your eyes. However, they popped open in surprise when Carmen shoved your shoulder, "Hey."

"What?" You muttered.

"You're late for work."

"Called in."

He snorted, "Yeah, must be nice."

You didn't say anything else, feeling utterly defeated by his sharp words. The lack of response made Carmy pause and glance over at you from the kitchen, honest surprise coloring his system because he usually knew you to bite back. But you were quiet and still, the only indication you were even alive being the slow drag of your shoulders.

He let the door slam after he left for work, and you instantly sobbed. What you didn't know was that Carmy had come back, forgetting something mundane, and came to a halt outside the door when he heard you crying. He felt guilty, but Carmy wasn't usually one to confront problems; he instead ran away, like always.

After a night of exhaustion, you finally cry yourself to sleep.

When Carmy got home that night after work, he found you still huddled on the couch. After a look around, he realized you hadn't moved all day; nothing to eat, nothing to drink... He wanted to wake you but still felt so fucking irritated from his job that the idea of reconciling with you felt far fetched. So, he did what he did best and isolated himself by going to the gym for a few hours.

You still hadn't woken up when he got back.

So, he just went to bed; hating sleeping alone but hating his pride more because it refused to let him get up and go get you. Carry you to bed. Smother you in apologies. Beg for forgiveness. He was cold that night.

You were awake around 4 am.

The entire apartment felt as cold and aloof as your boyfriend. You felt so silly for still being there, knowing you paid for an apartment of your own, but liking that Carmy's place was closer to your work. And he never asked you to leave, in fact, the times you went home, he was calling you within hours to beg you to come back because he hated sleeping alone.

Whatever happened to that lad? The one who was so in-love with you that he would desperately ask you to come "home" to him? Who was this man now? Who called you clingy, desperate... A bitch.

You could only stand to make coffee, feeling powerless in this tension. You didn't want him to ignore you any longer, feeling like you'd drop to your knees for his forgiveness if it would end this feud; but you weren't so naïve. You spent several long minutes mentally prepping yourself for more anxiety, telling yourself you could handle the day if you just powered through it. Everything should be fine so long as you didn't do anything else to upset him, as long as you didn't do anything to warrant him yelling at you - again.

You finally decided on an emotion, since you could feel so many at any given point in time, and since this situation was one you've never encountered before. Carmy had brought forth one of your biggest insecurities and then smashed it in your face like punk-ass siblings did to your birthday cake. You decided you were hurt by his words, tone, and actions; you were hurt by the man you loved unconditionally, and that was a terrifying thought on its own. He was once a man you thought couldn't do any wrong, to now being a man you were unsure of how to even speak to; fearful, as you once were as a child, to upset him and create hostility directed at you.

Carmy often forgot he didn't have a monopoly on toxic, complicated family dynamics, but being that Mikey was still so fresh for him, you kept quiet about your own issues in an effort to be a loving, supportive girlfriend. Yet even while trying not to upset anyone, to create tension, you somehow managed to. You felt your heart and soul shrivel into a withered raisin when you remembered your family and how they constantly put you down; saying that nobody wanted a girl like you who tried, tried, and tried again only to fail. They thought you were damaged goods, treated you as such and always smeared your name in the mud whenever you thought you had found someone to love you and be loved by you.

All that trauma was rearing its ugly head now, making doubt sink into the cracks of your relationship. No matter how hard he tried, Carmy couldn't ever take those words back once they've been said, and he had to understand that going forward, this would strain your relationship. Taking anger and frustration out on you was inappropriate, putting a bad taste in your mouth; making you wonder how the hell you'd ever move past this when his words circled your head like water draining from the sink.

Sometime around 9 am, you were curled up on the couch with your coffee and a book; Saturday dragging by slowly to allow you the reprieve of being off work. The bedroom door opened and you held your breath; sweat breaking out on your brow; heart stammering in your chest. When he came out, Carmy didn't look at you, which allowed you to watch him. He made a to-go cup of coffee, then shouldered his backpack before heading for the door.

"Carmy?" You asked softly in confusion, "I thought you were off today?"

"I am," he replied stiffly, "but I gotta run errands."

You didn't have time to respond before he was storming out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. You blinked in shock, confusion plunging your heart to your feet as you realized he didn't ask you to join him, in fact, he didn't appear to want to tell you his plans until you had to ask directly when he was walking out the door. You felt terrible, more tears swelling in your eyes at the discord your boyfriend prolonged.

Something in your heart snapped and you stood from your seat. With anger coursing through your veins, you turned into a miniature tornado and quickly started gathering whatever you could get your hands on that belonged to you. You had enough, you felt hurt, yes, we established this, but then the disrespect started to overflow out of your heart to color your blood. Never linger where you're not wanted, you should never tear yourself down to that level. Never should have to second guess yourself, either - especially in a space where you're supposed to be safe.

You started to wonder: is it clingy if you made dinner and saved him a plate? Is it clingy if you did his laundry? What about cuddling? Is that clingy? Well, apparently! What else are you wrong about? If you texted him? Asked his opinion? What about if you held his hand - is that clingy, too? Probably!

Physical touch and quality time were your love languages, but after this reaction, you wondered if everything you'd do from now on would be judged? Would you be crucified for showing your love? For trying to participate in your relationship?

All day, you moved your stuff back to your apartment. All shoes, clothes, purses, make-up, haircare and skincare products - any and all period products, too. You left fucking nothing; going as far as to lay face-down the photo of your two on his bedside stand. You'd of taken it, too, but you felt sick at the thought so you left it for him. Sunday night, you didn't return to his apartment, and Carmy didn't call to say goodnight; both figuring the other was still pissed off. Your Monday was long and annoying, but once it was over, you had to admit, it was strange returning to an empty apartment, heat up leftovers, eat while watching some Netflix show, and then crashing into bed - moving mechanically.

Days passed uneventfully, albeit, a bit sluggishly. And then, Thursday arrived, and with it, the shit that would hit the fan.

You were enraptured in this book by Anne Tyler called "Dinner At The Homesick Restaurant," and couldn't stop reading it. You nursed a mug of tea, the outside darkening with an approaching thunderstorm that would talk to you in the silence and send bolts of lightning to illuminate the city. A shrill ringtone then played, making you jump slightly and glance at your phone only to see Carmy's contact name and photo.

You stare at your phone for a long moment, and then, after convincing yourself that ignoring him would only add fuel to the fire, answered quietly, "Hello?"

"Peach? Hey, uh... Are you, um, still at work?"

"No?"

"Where are you, then?"

"I'm home."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"I'm standing right here and you're not, baby, unless you got superpowers or something?" He chuckled nervously, hearing nothing on your end. "In fact, I, uh... I don't see any of your things. You move 'em?"

He'd never admit it, but your personal touch in his living space transformed it into a home; and now that they were all gone, he hated how cold, dreary, and grey the apartment felt.

"Carmy, I mean my home. You know? The apartment I still pay for?"

"Oh, well... Why're you there?"

"Why wouldn't I be? I had to bring my stuff back and leave it somewhere safe."

"It was safe here, Peach," he argued.

"Yeah, but it's your space and last thing I need is to be yelled at and insulted again for being clingy 'cause I left clothes at your apartment."

"Fuc'k's sake," You heard him hiss under his breath, bringing tears to your eyes. "You know I don't mind, I want you to leave shit here so it's easier on you to commute. Look, you know it's Thursday, right? Does our standing date night ring any bells?"

"Okay, but we haven't honored that in weeks? You know, 'cause you've been really busy."

"I thought we could get back into it tonight."

You sighed, turning the page in your book, "No, I don't think so, but thanks anyway."

He took a long pause, asking nervously, "What's wrong, Peach?"

"Nothing. Is there anything else, Carmen? I'm in the middle of shit."

"Oh, uh, n-no, I guess that's it. You comin' over tomorrow?"

"No. I told my brother I'd help him this weekend."

"But tomorrow's... Friday?"

"Yeah, that's how a calendar works. I have to travel to get to him," you scoffed.

"You didn't think to tell me?"

"Why would I?"

"You tell me everything! You don't think that's something I should know? That my girl's not even gonna be here this weekend?"

"Well, you're the one who said I was fucking clingy, remember!?" You finally snapped. "So, I'm giving you all that space you wanted!"

"Baby - "

"No, it's a great idea. We need space, Carmen; this isn't fair to either of us anymore," you spoke seriously, the line going quiet.

"What?"

"We need space from this relationship."

"I don't. I don't need space, Peach, baby, no, just listen, okay? I'm so sorry, I came home stressed out and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, I really am, this isn't what I want. Okay? I'm sorry. Just - come back home and we can - "

"No, you know what? I think I'm the one who needs this space," you snapped. "You said some pretty fucked up things, Carmen, that you can't ever take back, and now that I know, I can't un-know what you think about me. So, I need time to sort myself out."

"What're you saying? A-Are you breaking up with me?"

"Not yet, no."

"Baby, don't do this. C'mon, okay? I'm sorry, baby, I-I-I was wrong for what I said, I didn't - I didn't mean it! None of it, okay? Know I love you, baby, please, just come home, okay? I'm so sorry, I love that you wanna be close to me, I shouldn't've pushed you away. I'm sorry, okay? Please, baby, I'm so sorry. I need you, Peach, please. Just come home, we'll talk it through, I promise, no yelling - "

"I think you already said it all. Your words were 'clingy' and 'desperate'. Oh, and you also called me a 'bitch', so, I'd hate to be the bitch that makes your already stressful life all the harder."

"I didn't mean that - "

"I gotta go, Carmen, we'll talk later, okay? Goodnight."

He froze when he listened to those three distinct beeps that indicated you hung up on him. Confusion and hurt now seeped into the cracks of Carmy's heart; wondering when the hell he'd become so Goddamn self destructive to ruin the best thing he's ever had - you. The apartment might as well turned into ice with the way the light left, your departure suddenly haunting him.

When will these boys learn? The love of a good woman is rare, they'd only ever be so lucky as to think they deserve a woman like you. Nobody ever gets to guilt you for your love language(s) and then grovel for forgiveness. You deserve better, you deserve more; whether you could see that right now or not, you deserved to be loved in the best way for you. And sometimes, that means walking away from something you once thought was exactly what you wanted, but perhaps, never what you needed - call that God's Plan.

[ part two: ] Two to Tango

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

[bootycallin]

i’m yours

꩜ .ᐟ basically; free use w sevika. that’s it.

cw: wlw. free use (obviously). domtop!sevika. somno. sevika’s mean mean mean. overstim. strap usage (r!receiving). brief mentions of blood. mention of sevika cumming quick lol. the woman’s stressed. angry sex if you squint. no foreplay she just shoves it.

💿 ะ currently playing; isabel larosa - i’m yours

a/n: just as a cautionary warning, everything in this fic is, obviously, fictional. both parties are consenting adults. all actions are strictly consensual. remember; foreplay and safe words are essential. be safe my loves!

free use with sevika, who was honestly ecstatic at the thought of using you anytime she wanted. she’s a busy woman, alright? constantly running errands, beating up whatshisname and godknowswho in the name of silco, takin’ care of a certain blue haired brat who just can’t seem to keep her ass out of trouble—it’s a miracle her head hasn’t exploded yet, purely from migraines.

what’s a better way for her to destress, if not to fuck your brains out? the first few times, it worked just fine. in the kitchen, bathroom, couch, bed, wherever—the real problem arose when she started working more late hours, getting back home at the early hours of the morning. two or three A.M, she walked into you two’s shared bedroom, only to see you deep in your sleep.

now, sevika’s many things. a criminal? yes. tough? very. rude? most of the time. horny? more often than not, when you’re around. controlled? hardly—not with you.

all that being said, she’s not a monster. she couldn’t even dream about fucking you without your say-so.

(she did, once. she swears up and down she doesn’t feel guilty about anything, but that shit has her at gun point. lives in her head like it pays rent. still embarrassed at how she woke up to mortifyingly wet boxers, having to quietly slip out of bed and into the bathroom to take care of the throbbing between her legs.

begrudgingly, she must admit it; still turns her on, still gets her off. every fucking time. comes crawling back whenever she needs to rub one out, leaving her wet, horny and ashamed. the fuck is wrong with you, woman?)

then, you talked to her about it. you mentioned how low her sex drive has been—and she wanted to roll her eyes. because hell no. her libido’s never been higher. she swears her brain just turns anger into (im)pure, debauched hunger, when you’re around. all she wants to do when she comes back home from work is have your pussy all for herself, whether she’s plowing you into the next century or rubbing her own cunt against yours. she just fucking needs you. and yet, she she’s been masturbating like a teenage boy who just discovered porn. it’s embarrassing.

“you’re always asleep,” sevika grumbled, arms crossed over her chest. her eyes are averted, avoiding your gaze. she’s never been shy, but the thoughts that are running through her head are making second guess herself.

“and?” you say, from the kitchen where you cooked. it’s like something in her brain switches. she perks up, eyebrow raised in that familiar way.

“what do you mean, and?” she asked. you had said that so casually. so normal, like she wasn’t slowly getting more and more excited at that mere, single-word reply.

“you can use me, if you want.” you said, turning the stove off and grabbing plates for the two of you.

use me. you said use me. use me, use me, use me.

she’s absolutely dumbstruck.

that night, dinner was only eaten a good hour or two later. might’ve as well been seconds, she had you as her main course. gods, how much she missed it—how you cried and moaned, screamed her name, writhed beneath her. she tries not to think about how quickly she came because of it all, because that’s just embarrassing. she made up for it by giving you more orgasm than we’re really necessary, so by the end of it, you could barely give a fuck about whether she came in two minutes or ten.

you talked about it, after. sure, you were kind of dumb and tired, but you still did. she asked you all possible questions. are you sure? you know what that means? what’s gonna be our safe word? she’s still worried. the last thing she wants to do is to hurt you.

(oh, how soft she’s gotten. fuck you, you little nymph. she can’t get you out of her head.)

the next day, she already has work. slipping out of your shared bed early in the morning, gaze briefly flicking towards your sleeping form.

fuck, you’re so cute. she still feels a pang of guilt over the thought of freely using you. she’s probably not gonna do it. it feels wrong, even with consent. she’s not that bad.

her day was exhausting. absolutely infuriating, too. silco had her running all over the goddamn place, running errands, going on meetings, shimmer and more shimmer, and not to mention jinx being a pain in her fucking ass—

she has to fight the urge to slam the door behind her when she comes back home, a good two in the morning. and as soon as she steps into the room, you just have to be there. sleeping peacefully, one leg hitched up, arms under your pillow, loose, nearly transparent sleep shorts just barely covering your ass.

you did this shit on purpose.

“fuck.” she groaned out loud, because, just when she’s trying to be a better person…

no. scratch that. she needs to be inside you, stat.

she damn near rips all her clothes off, crawling into bed with you. her arms, surprisingly gentle for how stressed she was when they flipped you around . she didn’t want to wake you yet, no. she wanted you to wake up with her cock filling you up. wanted you to feel that first thing out of sleep.

you’re so fucking angelic under her. pretty, semi-transparent, silky baby-doll hanging off your body, hitched up to slightly show a sliver of your tummy. she might just spontaneously explode. and when she tugs your shorts down? fuuuck.

“you fucking minx.”

of course you’re commando. of course you’d wear no fucking panties. just to tease her.

sevika grunted, wrenching your legs open. your pretty cunt was already so pliant for her, folds shiny. slick. you’re wet and you’re still asleep. call that pavlov’s pussy; soon as you feel her close, you’re wet. ready. you’re not even awake and yet look at you. begging.

god, she was planning on getting you ready, but you were making it hard.

“the things you don’t do to me,” she grumbled, shifting in bed to get her harness on, movements nearly sloppy with how quick she tried to be. she pauses when you shuffle, body reacting to the feeling of her heavy silicone cock tapping against your stomach. your body knows her so well, huh?

she considers just shoving it all in, wake you up whining. as the considerate lover she is, she doesn’t—rather, she douses her cock in lube, ‘til it’s practically dripping, then presses her tip against your hole.

there’s a tiny squelch noise from the contact. oh, your pussy’s just so ready.

her palm finds your lower stomach, her mechanical one holding your hips to stabilize herself as she slowly but surely fills you up. inch. by. inch.

of course, you’re quick to notice—sevika doesn’t have one small strap, after all. it’s always the ones that completely fill you up, like she’s in your guts.

you whimpered in your sleep. writhing, eyes still shut. you’ve obviously noticed, though you’re still in that half-asleep state. she shushed you, thumb rubbing little circles on your skin.

“still. still. i’ve got you,” her voice was reassuring as she could make it, even through all the panting and grunting. sevika’s not a comforting woman, but oh well.

“shhh… fuck, just take it, baby,” her hips draw backwards, pulling out halfway and then back in. the amount of self-control it doesn’t take for her to just slam herself inside you…

“mh—“ you whimpered, squirm, but her firm hand kept you still, stopping you from running away. its sudden, you just feel something thick, big filling you up. of course, you’re confused at first.

then your eyes flutter open. bleary, slightly teary. you’re met with the eyes of your girlfriend. on top of you, flushed and sweaty already. that’s all it takes for her to start picking up her pace.

“vika—“

you can barely get a word in, her thrusts going from slow and shallow to deep and hard real quick, as soon as she saw you were at least semi-aware of your surroundings and could tell it was her.

“shh. shh. fuck, i’ve got you,” she grunted, soothed as best as she could. grabbing your hips. she could feel herself filling you up, cock bulging your tummy ever so slightly. she can feel how deep she is, and god does that turn her on.

“‘vika—ah!”

she’s not thinking anymore. her brain is numb. empty. filled with thoughts of just fucking you, filling you up, dumbing you down on her cock like she isn’t the dumb one, fucking you like an animal, a wolf in a rut. all she can think about is filling you up ‘til she can’t tell where you end and she begins.

the room is a nasty concerto of skin smacking against skin, shared grunts and moans and whine, your little whimpers of ‘ah! ah! ah!’ and her cursing, unable to keep herself quiet. you’re chasing your peak before you can even think about it, thrashing, head spinning. screams of her name ripped from your throat. you’re sure you would get some nasty looks from your neighbors, but who said you could give any fucks about that? not when you’ve got your amazing girlfriend balls deep inside you.

she watches as your back arches, eyes rolling as you let out a breathless, loud cry of pleasure. your legs shake, tense, muscles trembling as your pussy clenched, creaming all over the expanse of her cock. she fucks you all through it, tip repeatedly kissing your cervix. she’s not done. not until she herself cums, groaning loudly and collapsing on top of you.

and she won’t stop.

“vika!” you scream, tears forming in your eyes out of overstimulation. yet your legs are wrapped around her waist, grasping at her, nails scratching down and dragging down her back ‘til she’s sure you draw blood.

“i know. i know, baby,” she growls at the lobe of your ear, hips restless. “so much, yeah? so much. but take it, take it. i’ll give you everything. just.”

plap. “take.” plap. “it.”

plap, plap, plap.

she’ll make sure you do.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 © bootycallin on tumblr. do not copy, translate or cross post without permission. ᛝ

[pseudowho]

1st of December

No-Nut November is over-- but Nanami Kento won't let you get away with it that easily.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

November had been torture for you and Kento alike. Though you had been the one to suggest No-Nut November, it was Kento who had given it the real staying power. You had vastly overestimated your ability to rile him, and underestimated his ability to deny himself.

As November wore on, and you became more and more outrageous in your flirtations, Kento remained, as ever, stoic and patient, treating you with the calm, loving affection you would expect of a gentleman. You were in turns perplexed and incensed, and fully planning to refuse him on December 1st. You considered booking in overtime, just to be extra outlandish.

Kento was no idiot. Who had made your bed? You. Who would lie in it? You, though not with the added warmth of a naked companion. It didn't take long for Kento to realise that you genuinely thought yourself more patient than him, which was sweet, and foolish. He was, he thought on the morning of December the 1st, as he licked his thumb and folded over the page of his newspaper, nothing if not a vindictive gentleman.

You walked out of your shared bedroom, padding completely naked to the bathroom. Kento didn't even flinch. You came out of the bathroom, dripping wet from your bath, still completely naked. Kento tutted and mopped up your wet footprints. You came to the kitchen in your nicest underwear, a set which, coincidentally, Kento had chosen for you, and set to leaning over the counter, bottom wiggling, seemingly waiting for the kettle to boil.

Kento cleared his throat mildly and approached you from behind. You smirked...until he placed a chaste kiss to your temple, and rumbled against your ear. "I'm off to work," he said, standing as you spun to face him, aghast, "I've booked us a table tonight. Be ready for seven?"

You gaped at him, and he dipped his head, eyebrows raised lightly, eyes unreadable behind green glass. "Is that...alright darling?" he inquired, hands rubbing your upper arms softly, a picture of genuine concern. You eked out a small, "mhm", and Kento smiled at you, kissing you again on the forehead with an exaggerated "mwah", and headed towards the door.

"Don't do anything fun without me, now," he called, and the door clicked shut, to his satisfaction, to baffled silence. You stood, stunned, and a horrible realisation came over you; you had genuinely tried to manipulate Nanami Kento, and it had got you absolutely nowhere, apart from straight into the palm of his hands. Sinking to your haunches in your lovely underwear, you buried your face in your hands, absolutely mortified.

What was the point of this wildly stupid game? No-Nut November? He's going to extend this into Don't Do-It December, I know he is, you thought to yourself, agonised. Truth be told, you were absolutely desperate. You had wanted to crawl into Kento's lap on the sofa, toss his newspaper aside, and ride him until he cried for mercy. He had made no effort to hide himself from you, his wonderful body still absolutely available for you to touch, if you so chose, but had treated your body with all the gentlemanly grace and dignity afforded to a Victorian maiden. It had driven you mad with lust.

You stewed, all day. You couldn't believe this ridiculous man was going to take you out for dinner, when you should have been dinner. You seethed and sulked through the contents of your wardrobe, begrudgingly planning your outfit for the evening, considering wearing a bin bag because god knows he's not going to touch me anyway.

Kento chuckled to himself the whole drive to work. He hadn't had this much fun in a long time. Swirling his coffee cup and taking a hearty swig as he paused at traffic lights, he grew hard in his trousers at the thought that he knew exactly how this evening was going to pan out.

If anybody had tried to ask Kento to stay late that day, he'd have asked them to jump off a bridge. As such, he arrived home promptly, telling you that you looked lovely (you did), and that he couldn't wait for dinner (he couldn't), and that we should get going soon. You remained tightly genial to him, to his amusement; after all, who could be cross at their fiancé booking a lovely candlelit meal?

Kento was the picture of a well-mannered date. He offered his arm as you walked together to the taxi. He opened your door for you. He had already pre-paid. The restaurant was exclusive, how long has he been planning this? The table already had a bottle of bubbly, crisp and sweating in an ice bucket.

You could barely speak to the man. You were swinging wildly between indignant fury, deep embarrassment, and unquenchable thirst. You had absolutely no idea which persona to lay on the table between you, and Kento knew it. You both knew it. The unspoken topic of sex was now taboo, and Kento remained patient, imploring you to take him to task for his refusal to be anything other than a gentleman.

Kento was sweet, attentive. He asked you about your day, and cared about the answer. He looked at you with adoring eyes, drawing envious glances from other women around the room. Your fingers plaited together, his thumb stroking your palm softly, and as he leaned in towards you through soft candlelight, your stomach swooped, your desperation growing by the second.

"Do you not want to-- I mean, did you not want to--" you blurted out, your blush rushing through you in a flood of heat as Kento eyed you sideways over his wine glass, thin eyebrows raised, eyes narrowed and gently inquisitive.

"Want to...want to...what?" he teased. Oh, this is delicious, he delighted to himself as your lip curled into an indignant, comedically downturned frown.

"Cut the crap, Kento!" you hissed, leaning forwards to him, "It's been a month since we've had sex. Aren't you...desperate?" you finished weakly. Kento coughed mildly, dabbing his lips with a napkin as your plates were taken away by a furiously blushing waiter.

"Well, darling, it takes two to tango. I'd never force you to sleep with me if you don't want to." His amber eyes flicked coolly upwards at you, over the rim of his wineglass, "Do you want to?"

You sighed, resigned, defeated, "Of course I want to--"

"Then beg."

You gaped at Kento again. A mortified flush spread up your cheeks, and you sat opposite Kento, knees pressed tightly together, swallowing hard.

"You don't...you're not going to make me--"

"Make you what? Beg?" Kento chuckled, a glassy rumbling sound into his wine, "Oh, I absolutely am," he assured you, swirling the glass in his hand, his eyes dark with desire now. Beneath the table, his foot tapped rapid little taps on the floor, and his trousers felt uncomfortably tight. He stared you down, hungry for you to beg for him.

You swallowed thickly. Heat pooled between your legs and your neck prickled. Biting your lip, eyes stinging with embarrassed tears, you leaned across the table, desperately tangling your fingers with Kento's.

"I need you," you whispered, hushed and agitated, "It's been too long. I was stupid. I'm sorry. So just...please, Kento, take me home and--and--"

Kento hummed again, finishing his wine, allowing you to play with his fingers, but glancing out across the restaurant, seemingly disinterested, "I'm not convinced," he intoned, "that you really mean it." Kento raised a hand to usher over your flustered, blushing waiter, and made quick work of paying the bill.

"I do," you pressed, pulling his hand towards you. You took his palm and pressed it against your cheek so Kento could feel the heat of it. Kento maintained a cool facade, feeling you swallow, tears in your eyes, and imagined you'd look the same gagging around his cock. He brushed his thumb slowly across your lip, before pressing it into your mouth, swiping it over your tongue.

"Our driver should be outside by now," he mused, and you blinked back furious tears, your begging getting you nowhere with your stubborn fiancé. Feeling self-conscious and hyper aware of every movement as you followed Kento to the door, you faltered as the restaurant door swung closed behind you. Kento had already strode ahead, and held open the door of a large private car.

You stepped in, sitting down on warm leather seats, as Kento shut the door. The windows were tinted, you noticed, as Kento spoke in low tones to the driver up front, who nodded as Kento pushed a crisp few folded up notes into his hand. Moments later, Kento stepped into the car to sit beside you, and the car set off driving.

The car ride was an agonising ten minutes. You had no idea where you were going, but eventually, the car pulled to a halt in a quiet street, and the driver pulled the handbrake, and stepped out, slamming the door behind him. An awkward silence hung between you and Kento.

His hands folded in his lap, Kento unbuckled his seat belt and turned to you, "Now, where were we?" You blushed again, face feeling permanently scorched now.

"I was...I...was telling you how sorry I am." Kento hummed, thumbs twiddling together as he looked at you, eyes dark and disinterested. You continued, now wet and thrumming inside your underwear, biting your lip before continuing.

"Please can we-- can I--" Kento frowned, annoyed now. You bit the bullet.

"Please just use me, I want you to fuck me until I can't walk straight. I was wrong, and I--" Kento grasped your jaw firmly, yanking you towards him, self-control hanging on a thread.

"-- deserve this?" he finished for you, teeth gritted. Your eyes trembled at him, thrilled and terrified.

"You're damn right you do." Kento slammed his lips to yours, moving across the seats to crush you back into your corner. You moaned into his mouth, lips parting to allow his tongue access, and you whined your disapproval when Kento pulled away.

"Beg," he pressed, "How am I supposed to know what you want when you've acted like a petulant child all month?"

"Kiss me, please, Kento," you keened, grabbing him by the collar.

Something about your desperation, and his having managed to turn the tables, shot straight to Kento's cock, now rigid and pressed uncomfortably down the leg of his trousers against his thigh.

"And?" He urged, desperate to yank your underwear aside, tug your dress up over your arse and fuck you raw, but restraining himself because god knew he deserved better, "What else?"

You babbled now, "I want your fingers in my mouth. I want you to tie me up. I want--" You were cut short as Kento pressed two fingers into your mouth deep enough to make you gag. He yanked you across the seats to straddle his lap, groaning at how your throat clenched around him.

"Do you want my cock in your mouth too? Hmm?" You nodded, sucking his fingers, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

"I want you to tie me up," he mocked, voice pitched and sarcastic as he bucked his hips up against your heat, yanking off his tie, "Like you've had me tied up all month?" Kento twisted your wrists adjacent behind your back, your breasts now pressed out invitingly against your dress as he leaned down to bite one sharply, leaving a little red welt as you squeaked.

"Well, fuck around and find out, my love," Kento huffed at you, hurriedly shoving your dress up your hips, to grasp the sides of your underwear and rip them, letting them drop onto his lap. Pulling the scrap of fabric out from between your bodies, Kento scrunched it up and pressed it to his nose, inhaling deeply, releasing a shaky breath as his head swooped, drunk on the smell of you.

Opening his eyes, intoxicated and hooded, he drank you in; rumpled and messy on his lap, breast marked by his teeth, eyes teary and lips puffy from the assault by his fingers, Kento swore he could never have dreamed of a woman like you begging for him. Crushing your underwear in his hands, he shoved it into your mouth, ignoring your coughs and splutters.

"Tastes good, hmm?" he chuckled, "You know, some nights, I nearly dipped my face between your legs while you were sleeping just to get a taste of you."

Kento hooked his cock, pulsing and aching, out of his trousers, and it fell heavy against the patch of downy hair on his belly. Positioning your pussy directly over it, Kento leaned back in the seat, smouldering at you. Not breaking eye contact, he rocked your hips back and forth, your wet pussy lips parting around the length of his cock as he glided you up and down the underside of it.

Kento's head tipped back with a ragged moan, and you quaked, feeling drunk and dizzy as the length of his cock dragged again and again over your clit. Eager now, you fell against Kento's chest and humped him harder, and faster, pleasure building fast after a month of pointless denial.

Kento's vision swam, hooked on your muffled moans as he tried not to cum embarrassingly fast. Teeth grazing against your neck, he tasted your sweat and perfume, groaning his pleasure as his cockhead repeatedly grazed your clit, the vibration of your tremors thrumming across him until he couldn't tell where you ended and he began.

Feeling your thighs start to give out, Kento rocked your hips for you, thrusting up against you until you fell apart, eyes squeezed shut in agony as you came. Kento yanked your crumpled underwear out of your mouth, nipping at your lower lip as he kissed you deeply.

"Beg," Kento urged again with a growl, holding your hips still until you whimpered, your just-achieved orgasm starting to ebb away, and you whimpered, "please let me cum, I won't do it again, I swear, I just want you inside--" you cut off with a moan as he shoved the underwear back into your mouth, and he pressed your hips hard, feeling the heat of you throb against him now.

Feeling your belly tighten with pleasure and your pussy clench around nothing, you started to move again, this time trying to manipulate Kento's cock into you without the use of your hands. Kento laughed darkly, pressing an incongruously affectionate kiss to the side of your neck.

"What if I just...said no?" Kento teased, laughing harder at your squeak of alarm. Kento would have continued the bitter self-flagellation of not fucking you senseless, but having you bound and begging on his lap was such a sweet boon.

Kento turned you around in his lap so your back was against his chest, legs draped over his, and as he spread his legs, yours spread too. Lifting you, you felt the teasing penetration of just an inch or two of his cock inside you. Your thighs shook as Kento commanded you, voice like crushed velvet against your ear.

"Kneel."

You did as you were told, supporting your weight on your knees, bound hands pawing behind you at Kento's shirt. Your pussy clenched and fluttered around nothing, desperate to feel him in your belly, and you huffed, agonised, breathing in the taste of yourself. With a groan, Kento began to stroke himself, precum now leaking just inside you, his chased pleasure just on the tip of his tongue.

As you started to gently lower yourself onto him, trying to be surreptitious, Kento grabbed the back of your bra strap, twisting it round and using the added tension to lift you back off him, and he was delighted as you wiggled and squirmed around the tip of his cock. Reaching two fingers round you to start drawing lazy circles on your clit, he continued to stroke himself. Colours popped in your vision at the relief of being touched properly for the first time in a month. You melted into his touch.

You knew Kento was struggling to hold back now, feeling his thighs clench under yours, and his cock twitch inside you, but you leaned back against him as his fingers worked between your wet folds, moaning sweetly against his neck. You saw the muscles of his neck jump with restraint, and your clever hands managed to undo a few buttons of his shirt so you could splay a hand across his lower belly, leaning your weight on it.

Kento grunted with the exertion of self-restraint, determined not to give in, but he felt a bead of sweat trickle down his v-line as you pressed your hand against his belly; he loved it when you did that, weak at the knees for him and holding urgently onto his abs for support. His cock twitched with every bound of his racing heart now, and he urged you, half commanding and half begging; "Ride me."

Kento almost shouted with relief as you squeezed your hips down, his hand releasing himself to hold you close to him, tender for you with pleasure now, as you rocked slowly on him, your pussy fitting him like a glove as it glided around him.

"So good-- so good for me," he groaned into you, one hand continuing its steady ministrations on your clit as the other snaked round you to release your breasts, cupping them, lazily flicking over your nipples. Your hips rolled against each other, thrusts in tandem and you mewled as you felt his tip kiss against the spongy spot inside you, the angle of your position exaggerating the pressure.

Kento felt his brain fog over, overwhelmed by the intimacy of holding you close again, and his hips stuttered as he bucked up into you, bouncing you on his cock as you squeaked, unable to grab onto anything for support. Being rammed into as Kento chased his own orgasm now, you leaned your head forwards against the seat, Kento admiring the curve of your arse and the arch of your back as it tensed, your pleasure peaking and toes curling as you sobbed with pleasure, voice still muffled by your underwear.

Kento fell apart, a hook behind his navel dragging down as his balls tensed, filling you with gushes of cum, holding you tightly against him and you shivered, feeling how deeply his seed hit. Both pleasure-wracked and exhausted, you slumped against each other, messy and wet.

Untying you and removing your spoiled underwear from your mouth, Kento pulled out of you, fingering where his cum dropped out of your abused pussy with a groan. You shot him a rueful look over your shoulder, and he smirked, wonky and dazed.

"You've only got yourself to blame," Kento sighed, tucking himself back into his trousers, and pulling your dress over your arse. You clamped your legs together, blushing, trying to hold Kento's cum inside. Sliding you off his lap, Kento leaned forwards to the front of the car, and flicked the indicator to flash the headlights a few times.

"Suppose I'd better tell Ino to head back," he hummed. Your jaw dropped. Kento gave you a shrewd side-eye, not done with embarrassing you yet.

Moments later, Ino slid into the driver's seat, looking back at you and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, "Hey! Did you guys have fun?" You buried your face into the edge of your seat, wanting the leather to swallow you whole. Ino laughed as Kento slapped some more cash into his hand.

"You know what they say, fuck around and find out, right?"

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Nanami Kento is a deviant mastermind, and nobody can tell me otherwise.

[thedensworld]

Make All Easier | H. Js

Genre: fluff, dad au!

Summary: He always picture you and him to be a parent of daughter. So when your baby daughter was born, he already knew what to do and it makes everything easier.

Author note: Hi! I'm available to tip now, send me Jeans👖 here on ko-fi🤍

Jisoo felt a tiny hand slap his face as he was peacefully sleeping. A smile crept onto his lips even before he opened his eyes, the familiar squeals of his 10-month-old daughter echoing softly in the quiet room. As he finally blinked his eyes open, he saw her sitting upright on the bed, her chubby hands patting his chest as she babbled incoherently, demanding attention. No one was ready to play at 6:30 a.m. except for little Yuri.

Chuckling, Jisoo stretched out his arms, lifting her into the air before settling her onto his stomach. She let out a delighted squeal, her laughter filling the room like music. "Good morning, princess," he murmured, brushing her fluffy hair out of her eyes as she wiggled happily.

Last night came to mind—he remembered bringing Yuri to bed after her midnight cries echoed through the house. Both you and Jisoo had stirred awake, but before you could even swing your legs off the bed, Jisoo had already sat up, saying, "I'll handle it," in a sleepy but determined voice.

"What's wrong, Yuri?" he had asked gently as he approached her crib, her tiny face scrunched up in distress. The moment her teary eyes spotted him, her cries softened to sniffles. Jisoo picked her up, her small body melting into his chest as if that was all she needed to feel safe. After changing her diaper and preparing a bottle of formula in the dimly lit kitchen, he carried her back to bed. Yuri had quickly fallen asleep in the middle of the bed, sandwiched securely between her parents.

Now, as the early morning light filtered through the curtains, you stirred beside him, your voice soft and groggy. "Who's this little troublemaker..." you mumbled, squinting at Yuri as she crawled toward you.

The moment Yuri heard your voice, her babbling turned into excited squeals, and she wriggled out of Jisoo’s arms to reach you. Giggling, you scooped her up and brought her closer. "Why are you up so early, hm?" you asked, your voice playful as you nuzzled your face into her soft, round belly. Yuri's laughter erupted, a pure, joyous sound that warmed your heart.

"Why don't we all go back to sleep, baby?" you whispered, laying her down beside you and wrapping her in a warm embrace. But being an active and curious 10-month-old, Yuri had other plans. She squirmed free almost immediately, crawling over you and Jisoo with boundless energy.

Jisoo propped himself up on one elbow, watching the scene unfold with a grin. "Yuri, are you that excited already?" he teased, leaning in to tap her nose gently. She responded with more babbles, her tiny hands flailing as if trying to explain her morning enthusiasm.

"Alright, alright," Jisoo chuckled, sitting up and scooping her into his arms. "Let’s let Mom sleep a little more while we go grab some breakfast, okay?" Yuri’s eyes sparkled, as if she understood her father’s plan.

Jisoo placed Yuri gently into her highchair, securing her in place before sliding it up beside the kitchen counter. Her tiny hands smacked the tray enthusiastically, babbling as her big eyes followed his every move. Jisoo smiled at her, responding to her every sound with a soft laugh or a playful "What’s that, princess?" as he prepared her breakfast.

He pulled out a perfectly ripe avocado and sliced it while waiting for the toast to pop up from the toaster. Humming softly, he scrambled an egg for protein, plating everything neatly for Yuri. Her small squeals of excitement filled the kitchen as she watched him work.

Moments later, you emerged from the bedroom, still a bit groggy but ready to help out with breakfast. Stretching as you entered the kitchen, you smiled at the scene before you: Jisoo fussing over Yuri, who was happily babbling away in her highchair.

"Do we have any veggies, babe?" Jisoo asked, peering into the fridge as he looked for something to add to Yuri’s meal.

You joined him at the fridge, pulling out a bunch of broccoli. "I’ll steam these for you. Avocado toast?" you asked, gesturing to the stack of avocados on the counter, too sleepy to consider a more complicated breakfast option.

Jisoo laughed, catching the subtle tiredness in your voice. "Sure, babe. That works. I'll pop some bread in the toaster for us."

Your heart softened at his thoughtful offer, and you leaned in for a quick kiss. He smiled into the kiss, but before he could say anything, Yuri squealed loudly, her little arms flailing in excitement. She loved seeing her parents share affection.

"Mama! Mama!" Yuri called out, her bright voice making both of you laugh.

Jisoo turned to her with an exaggerated look of surprise. "Papa!" he said, pointing to himself and trying once again to coax her into saying his name. This wasn’t the first time he’d tried, but Yuri seemed determined to make him wait.

Yuri stared at him with a mischievous smile, her little cheeks puffing up with glee. Jisoo sighed dramatically, leaning over to press a kiss to her temple. "I’m convinced she’s holding back on purpose," he said, turning back to you with a grin.

You chuckled, finishing up the eggs and setting them on the toast. "She definitely knows how to mess with you," you teased, sliding the toast onto a plate.

Jisoo propped his elbow on the counter, smirking. "Wonder where she got that attitude from," he mumbled playfully, his gaze flicking to you.

"Careful," you said with mock sternness, laughing as you pulled the steamed broccoli out and set some on Yuri’s tray. You grabbed her plate, placing it on the highchair tray in front of her. "Yuri! Let’s eat," you cooed, pushing her closer to the table.

Jisoo laughed as he followed you to the table, carrying the avocado toast you’d prepared for the two of you. Yuri wasted no time reaching for her food, her little fingers grabbing a piece of broccoli as she babbled happily.

"You want coffee?" Jisoo asked, setting your plate in front of you and leaning down slightly to meet your gaze.

"Sure, thanks," you said with a soft smile, sitting beside Yuri to help her with her breakfast.

As Jisoo brewed the coffee, he glanced back at the two of you. Watching Yuri munch on her broccoli, occasionally glancing at you for reassurance, filled him with warmth.

Jisoo glanced at you with a questioning look when you casually slid one of your toasts onto his plate. "What’s this?" he asked, raising a brow in mild disbelief.

"I’ve had enough," you murmured, taking a slow sip of your coffee, avoiding his gaze.

Jisoo narrowed his eyes slightly, unconvinced. In no universe could his wife, you, have possibly eaten enough already. He knew you too well—you never left food unfinished unless you physically couldn’t eat another bite.

"You sure?" he asked, picking up the toast, his tone teasing but laced with genuine curiosity.

You nodded, quickly redirecting your attention to Yuri, who was happily holding pieces of her soft toast in both hands, her cheeks puffed out as you helped her eat bits of scrambled egg in between.

Jisoo chuckled quietly, still watching you as he finished his food. The three of you remained at the dining table, savoring the cozy morning together while Yuri enjoyed her breakfast. Jisoo couldn’t help but laugh every time Yuri deliberately squished her food between her tiny fingers or smushed it against her highchair tray, giggling as though it was her way of entertaining her parents.

"No, eat it properly," you tried to warn her in your soft yet firm "mom voice," but Yuri wasn’t having it. Her giggles turned into a squeal as she continued playing with her food.

Jisoo leaned back in his chair, stealing glances at you as you sighed and relaxed against the backrest, your eyes wandering to the untouched piece of toast on your plate. He smirked knowingly. You could never leave food uneaten, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise.

"Eat it, babe," he said with a warm smile, his tone gentle but encouraging.

You let out another sigh, glancing at the toast before mumbling, "I think it’s time."

Jisoo raised his brows, intrigued. "Time for what?" he asked, leaning forward slightly as if to make sure he caught every word.

"Losing weight," you admitted, your tone casual yet tinged with determination. You glanced at him, waiting for his reaction.

Jisoo tilted his head, his brows furrowing slightly. "What’s wrong? You’re perfect," he said sincerely, his voice filled with genuine care.

You shrugged, grabbing a napkin to wipe Yuri’s messy mouth as she continued to babble and grin at both of you. "I know," you said, a small smile tugging at your lips. "It’s just… I think it’s time to get back on track, you know? Focus on myself a little more."

Jisoo nodded, understanding immediately. He wasn’t one to push you, but he always supported your goals, whatever they might be.

"And since Yuri’s started taking formula now," you added, glancing at your daughter, who was happily gnawing on her toast, "it feels like the perfect time to start the drill."

Jisoo’s lips curled into a soft smile as he reached across the table, placing his hand gently over yours. "Whatever you want to do, I’m with you," he said, his voice steady and reassuring. "But just so you know, you’re already amazing as you are."

You smiled back, squeezing his hand lightly. "Thanks," you whispered, feeling the familiar warmth of his support wash over you.

As you gently wiped the crumbs off Yuri’s cheeks, she squirmed in her highchair, babbling excitedly. Her breakfast was a success, as evidenced by the mess she’d created on her tray. You smiled softly, brushing the bits of scrambled egg off her little hands.

Jisoo stood beside the sink, rinsing his plate, and turned his attention to you and Yuri. "Hey," he started, his tone casual but thoughtful, "if you want to hit the gym or go for a workout, I can watch Yuri for a bit."

You glanced up at him, surprised by the offer. "Really? Are you sure?" you asked, carefully unfastening Yuri’s highchair straps and lifting her into your arms.

Jisoo dried his hands on a kitchen towel and walked over to you. "Of course. You’ve been talking about getting back into a routine, and I’ve got no problem keeping an eye on her. Right, Yuri?" He gently poked her tummy, earning a delighted giggle from her.

You chuckled, adjusting Yuri on your hip. "You do realize she’s going to keep you on your toes the whole time, right?"

Jisoo chuckled, "come on, I’m her dad. I’ve got the stamina for this."

"Well, you sound confident. I might just take you up on that."

"Good," Jisoo replied, cradling Yuri in one arm while using the other to brush her hair away from her face. "But seriously, go do something for yourself. Hit the gym, take a yoga class, or even just grab a coffee and relax. I’ve got this."

You smiled at him, the weight of his offer sinking in. "Thanks, babe. I think I’ll take you up on that. I’ve been meaning to check out that new gym a few blocks away."

"If you want to do some cardio, you know I can help, right?" he teased, a playful smirk on his face as he balanced Yuri on his hip.

You turned around, raising an eyebrow at him. "Oh, really? And what exactly are you suggesting, Mr. Hong?"

Jisoo’s wink was shameless, his confidence radiating as he adjusted Yuri in his arms. "I’m just saying, some activities burn just as many calories as running," he quipped, his tone dripping with humor.

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress the grin tugging at your lips. "Smooth," you muttered, shaking your head

Yuri, oblivious to her father’s cheeky comment, clapped her hands and let out a squeal. "Mama!" she called, pointing toward you as if demanding your attention back.

You walked back over and gently poked her cheek. "See, Yuri? This is why your dad needs babysitting too."

*

Jisoo sat cross-legged on the living room floor after preparing a snack for Yuri. He placed the plate of crackers on the coffee table and handed one to Yuri, who was perched on the couch, her tiny legs swinging and her eyes glued to the TV screen. Jisoo chuckled softly as he noticed she hadn’t even glanced at the snack.

"You really love your Uncle Jun, huh, Yuri?" he said with a smile, leaning over to press a kiss to her chubby little leg. But Yuri remained entranced, captivated by the drama featuring her Jun Uncle that they had been watching since you left for your pilates session.

With an hour and a half until you’d return, Jisoo was determined to keep his promise to you—Yuri would have a great time with him, no distractions. He still felt a twinge of guilt from the last time you left him in charge when he had dozed off on the couch. Yuri, ever the independent little explorer, had ended up playing blocks alone in her room until your voice startled Jisoo awake.

"You know, I can take her to daycare for a couple of hours," you had suggested earlier, sensing Jisoo's exhaustion. But he had been adamant about being responsible. "I’ve got this," he assured you, wanting to prove that he could handle fatherhood without shortcuts.

Now, here he was, spending quality time with Yuri in front of the TV, though he couldn’t help but notice how absorbed she was in Jun’s drama.

"Yuri, what’s so special about Uncle Jun? Is he handsome?" Jisoo asked playfully, tilting his head as he observed his little girl. To his utter surprise, Yuri nodded—actually nodded—as if she completely understood the question.

Jisoo gasped in mock betrayal. "Seriously? How about Papa? I’m handsome too, you know," he teased, his tone laced with exaggerated offense.

This time, Yuri’s focus shifted from the screen to him, her wide eyes meeting his.

"Papapapa..." she babbled, her tiny voice causing Jisoo to freeze. Did she just say "Papa"?

Jisoo’s heart nearly burst with excitement as he squatted in front of her, his face lit with anticipation. "Say it again, Yuri. Come on, say Papa!" he urged, his voice filled with hope.

But Yuri, ever the mischievous one, smiled sweetly and babbled, "Mamamama…"

Jisoo groaned dramatically, flopping backward onto the floor as Yuri giggled at his reaction. "Unbelievable," he muttered, shaking his head while his daughter clapped her hands, clearly enjoying her father’s antics.

"Your Mama’s going to love this," Jisoo said with a laugh, reaching over to hand Yuri another cracker. Though she still seemed more interested in the TV, he couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. Even if she didn’t say "Papa" again just yet, moments like these made every second of fatherhood worth it.

Yuri let out a string of happy chatter as she finished the cracker in her hand. Jisoo, feeling playful and wanting to challenge her, decided to turn the snack into a game. "Get one yourself," he said with a grin, placing another cracker on the coffee table just out of her reach.

Yuri, as if she understood the command, looked at the cracker with determination. She pushed herself up onto her feet, her tiny legs wobbling as she steadied herself. She had been practicing standing and walking for a few steps, often holding onto walls or someone’s hand for support, but she wasn’t quite walking on her own yet.

Jisoo, sensing an opportunity, gently pushed the coffee table a bit further away, encouraging her to try. "Come on, Yuri. You can do it," he coaxed, his tone full of excitement.

Yuri first dropped to her knees and crawled toward the table. As soon as she reached it, she pulled herself up, gripping the edge with her small hands. Jisoo crouched beside her, smiling mischievously. "No crawling this time," he said softly as he gently lifted her back onto her feet.

"Let’s take a step," he said, holding her steady before slowly letting go.

Yuri wobbled, her balance shaky, and she plopped back down onto her diaper with a little thud. Jisoo chuckled but didn’t give up. "Come on, baby girl. Let’s try again. You’ve got this."

With his encouragement, Yuri stood up once more. She teetered as she extended one tiny foot forward, her brows furrowed in concentration. When she managed to take her first step, Jisoo’s face lit up with pure joy. "Yes! That’s my girl!" he cheered, clapping his hands enthusiastically.

Spurred on by her dad’s encouragement, Yuri took another unsteady step, then another. Her little giggles filled the room as she reached the coffee table and grabbed the cracker she had been eyeing. She squealed in triumph, holding it up like a prize.

Jisoo let out a celebratory yell, jumping to his feet. "Yuri, you did it! You walked, baby! You actually walked!" He scooped her up, twirling her around as she laughed in delight, her tiny arms flailing.

Still holding her cracker tightly, Yuri babbled happily as if sharing her victory. Jisoo kissed her chubby cheek, his heart swelling with pride. "Mama’s going to be so proud when she hears this," he said, already imagining how excited you’d be to hear about the milestone.

Jisoo was on a roll. After Yuri's triumphant first steps, he couldn’t help himself—he had to see her do it again. He gently set her down on the floor and placed another cracker a few feet away on the coffee table. "Okay, Yuri, let’s go for round two," he said, clapping his hands in encouragement.

Yuri, still riding the high of her little victory, babbled in delight and reached for him before attempting to stand again. This time, her steps were a little more confident, though still wobbly. She managed three tiny steps before plopping down again, giggling uncontrollably at Jisoo’s over-the-top cheering.

"You’re a natural!" Jisoo laughed, scooping her up for a quick cuddle before setting her down again. "One more time, baby girl. Let’s show Mama just how much you’ve improved!"

The two of them turned the living room into a mini walking practice arena. Jisoo spaced out her favorite toys along the floor, creating little "goals" for her to reach. He moved from one end of the room to the other, encouraging her every time she stumbled or hesitated.

"Come to Papa, Yuri! You can do it!" he called, crouching down with his arms open. Yuri squealed and took a few hesitant steps toward him before collapsing into his embrace. "That’s my girl!" he exclaimed, peppering kisses all over her chubby cheeks.

As the minutes turned into nearly an hour, Jisoo didn’t even notice how much time had passed. He was so focused on helping Yuri improve that he didn’t realize the living room was now strewn with toys, crackers, and a pile of pillows he’d used to soften her landing spots.

*

Jisoo entered the practice room, holding Yuri’s hand as she walked beside him. The one-year-old Yuri was a bit shy, flinching slightly as she was greeted by the chorus of excited voices from the members who were eager to see her.

"My wife will pick her up in an hour," Jisoo informed everyone, explaining why he had to bring Yuri to the practice. However, no one really seemed to pay much attention to his words; they were all too busy fawning over the tiny celebrity of the day.

"It's been so long since I've seen her. I can't believe she’s gotten this big!" Dokyeom exclaimed, lifting Yuri into his arms as she reached out with her little hands, clearly asking to be picked up.

"This is what it feels like to be her favorite," Dokyeom grinned, flexing proudly as Yuri clung to his neck, burying her face into his shoulder.

Meanwhile, Seungkwan stood off to the side, feeling wronged. Yuri had been avoiding him, and worse, she outright refused to be held by him. His pout was noticeable, but the others were too caught up in Yuri’s cuteness to notice.

"You shouldn't come to her like that, Kwan," Soonyoung teased, watching Seungkwan’s failed attempts to hold Yuri.

"Dont act like she likes you more than me," Seungkwan shot back. "We’re on the same stage here."

Just then, the door to the practice room opened, and Jun walked in. As soon as Yuri saw him, her eyes lit up, and she let out a squeal of excitement.

Jisoo sighed, a knowing smile creeping onto his face. "Yuri loves Jun. She’s watched all his dramas."

The statement caught everyone off guard, and Jun himself seemed genuinely surprised by the revelation. He quickly walked over and took Yuri from Dokyeom’s arms, and from that moment on, Yuri’s eyes never left him. Even as practice began, with music playing and choreography being rehearsed, Yuri sat on the couch, content with a snack in her tiny hands.

"Sit here while Papa works, okay?" Jisoo called gently, but Yuri didn’t even glance in his direction. Instead, she shamelessly stared up at Jun, her gaze unwavering as if she was completely captivated by him.

The room fell silent for a moment, everyone watching as Yuri refused to acknowledge Jisoo, only caring about Jun. The contrast between the two was almost too funny. Jisoo couldn't help but shake his head, a mix of amusement and exasperation on his face. "I guess I’ll never be her favorite," he muttered under his breath, earning a few chuckles from the others.

"Looks like Jun hyung is the real star of the show now," Dokyeom teased, and the rest of the members nodded in agreement, still entranced by Yuri's devotion to Jun.

The clock struck 10 PM, signaling that it was well past Yuri’s bedtime. You and Jisoo sat comfortably on the couch, unwinding after a long day. Jisoo had just come home from practice, and after you accompanied him during his late dinner, the two of you decided to share a can of beer. It had become a quiet ritual, a time to share stories about your days and simply enjoy each other's presence.

Jisoo leaned back on the couch, a soft smile playing on his lips as he recounted his day. “The members were so obsessed with Yuri during practice,” he said, chuckling at the memory. “No one could focus because she was there stealing the spotlight. Even Dokyeom was acting like her bodyguard.”

You smiled, imagining the scene. “I bet she loved the attention.”

“Oh, she did. But guess who she gave all her attention to?” Jisoo raised an eyebrow, his tone playful. “Jun. She only had eyes for him.” He laughed, shaking his head as if he still couldn’t believe it. “She wouldn’t even look at me. She was completely smitten.”

You laughed along with him, but his words sparked a thought. “You know,” you began, “I remember watching all of Jun’s dramas while I was pregnant with her. Could that be the reason?”

Jisoo’s brows furrowed in mock betrayal. “You watched all his dramas? You didn’t even watch my variety show!” His eyes widened as if he had just uncovered a great scandal.

You chuckled softly, trying to defend yourself. “Did I say all? Actually, not all of them. And for the record, I did watch your variety show!”

Jisoo raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “The full episodes?"

You cringed, guilt flashing across your face. “The clips,” you admitted, unable to meet his eyes.

Jisoo burst out laughing, pulling you into his arms. “Unbelievable. My own wife.” Jisoo burst out laughing, shaking his head at your guilty expression before pulling you into a warm embrace. "I know you like Jun," he teased.

Your cheeks flushed as you giggled, tightening the hug. "I mean… he’s so handsome. How could someone be that handsome?" you admitted, unable to suppress your grin.

Jisoo pulled back slightly, pouting like a child. "I’m handsome too, you know."

"You are," you reassured him with a smile, "but he’s, like, super handsome."

"Super handsome?!" Jisoo gasped, clutching his chest as if you had just wounded him. "That’s way too much to say about another man who isn’t your husband! You’re breaking my heart here!"

His over-the-top reaction had you bursting into laughter, tears forming in the corners of your eyes as you playfully swatted his arm. "Oh, stop being dramatic!"

But Jisoo only leaned back with a mock sigh, mumbling, "I can’t believe I’m losing to Jun in my own house…"

Shaking your head in amusement, you snuggled closer to him. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I married you, didn’t I?"

Jisoo grinned, his pout disappearing as he kissed the top of your head. "Yeah, you did. And that’s all that matters. But if Yuri starts calling Jun 'Dad,' we’re going to have a serious talk."

*

A year and a half later, your house was once again filled with excitement when you found out you were pregnant again—this time, with a boy. Jisoo was over the moon, and Yuri, though too young to fully understand, was thrilled at the idea of being a big sister. As the weeks passed, you began to experience all the ups and downs of pregnancy again, but this time, there was a twist—your cravings weren’t food-related. Instead, you had an undeniable, almost ridiculous craving to see Jun in person.

It started innocently enough. One quiet evening as Jisoo folded Yuri’s tiny clothes, you glanced at him from the couch and casually said, “I don’t know why, but I really want to see Jun. Like, just once. Is that weird?”

Jisoo froze mid-fold, turning his head slowly like he’d misheard you. His lips curled into a smirk as he placed the neatly folded onesie on the growing pile. “So now it’s not just binge-watching his dramas, huh? You want to meet him too?”

You groaned, placing a hand on your belly. “I can’t help it, okay? It’s like… I need to see him. Maybe it’s the hormones.”

“Hormones, huh?” Jisoo raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. “Sure it’s not your long-brewing celebrity crush finally boiling over? Because if we’re blaming hormones, then I think Yuri was just your cover-up last time”

You grabbed the nearest pillow and tossed it at him. He dodged with ease, laughing as he dropped onto the couch beside you, leaving Yuri’s clothes momentarily abandoned.

“Don’t make fun of me! I’m being serious here,” you whined, crossing your arms over your chest. “I might actually cry if I don’t see him.”

Jisoo gasped, clutching his chest dramatically like you’d just confessed something scandalous. “Cry? You’d cry over another man? A man who isn’t your husband?”

“Oh, don’t start,” you grumbled, though you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “You don’t understand. It’s not just about him being… you know…”

“Handsome? Perfect? Tall? Charismatic?” Jisoo listed with a grin, ticking the traits off on his fingers like he was keeping score. “Oh, I understand, trust me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Of course I am,” he shot back, still grinning. “I get to see my wife all flustered over a guy I personally know. Do you want me to get his autograph too? Or better yet, a signed poster?”

You smacked his arm lightly, laughing despite yourself. “Stop it! You’re the worst.”

Jisoo feigned offense, gasping again. “The worst? Here I am, folding clothes for our child, and you’re plotting a meeting with another man. Unbelievable.”

“Baby,” you groaned, dragging out his name. “I’m pregnant! And it’s not like I’m asking for much. I just want to see him, like… once. It’s not a crime.”

“Alright, alright,” he relented, leaning back against the couch with a teasing glint still in his eyes. “You’re lucky I’m your husband. I’ll see what I can do.”

Your eyes lit up immediately. “Really? You’ll do that for me?”

“Of course,” he said, reaching over to pull you into a side hug. “But don’t think I’ll let you gush over him in front of me. I’ll have to establish dominance as your real favorite.”

“Oh, please. You’re lucky I married you,” you teased, earning a pillow thrown back at you this time. And as laughter filled the room, you thought to yourself how you really did marry the best man after all.

You weren’t sure if he was serious, but you knew Jisoo. When he set his mind to something, he always made it happen. And, true to his word, a week later, he came home with the biggest grin on his face.

“Guess what?” he said, walking into the living room where you were lounging with Yuri.

“What?” you asked, curious but suspicious of his tone.

“I arranged for us to visit the company tomorrow. The members are practicing, and Jun will be there,” he said, casually dropping the news as if it were no big deal.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “Wait, really? You’re serious?”

“Of course,” he said, sitting beside you and pulling you into a side hug. “Do you think I’d let my pregnant wife cry over Jun? I’m not that heartless.”

The next day, Jisoo drove you and Yuri to the company, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves. As you entered the practice room, the members greeted you warmly, all eyes lighting up when they saw Yuri and your growing belly.

But you only had eyes for one person. There he was, standing near the mirrors, his hair slightly tousled and his warm smile directed at Yuri, who had already run toward him.

“Jun,” you said softly, feeling a little starstruck despite yourself.

Jun turned to you, his smile widening. “Oh, Y/n! It’s so good to see you again.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as Jisoo, standing beside you, tried to stifle a laugh. “Go on,” he whispered, nudging you lightly.

Jun walked over and greeted you politely, his gentle demeanor putting you at ease. He crouched slightly to address your belly. “So, this is the little one who’s been making all the fuss about meeting me?”

You burst out laughing, your nerves melting away. “Apparently. It’s all his fault,” you joked, patting your bump.

As the day went on, you couldn’t stop smiling. Watching Jun play with Yuri and talk to Jisoo like old friends felt surreal. Jisoo, for his part, seemed to enjoy watching you quietly fangirl, even sneaking a picture of you and Jun talking.

Later that night, as you lay in bed, you turned to Jisoo and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for today. It really meant a lot to me.”

Jisoo grinned, pulling you close. “Anything for you. Besides, I’m just glad you didn’t run away with Jun.”

You laughed, resting your head on his chest. “Don’t worry. You’re still my favorite.”

“You better mean that,” he said playfully, kissing the top of your head.

“I do,” you murmured, your voice soft with love. And with that, you drifted off to sleep, feeling incredibly grateful for your husband who always made everything easier—because he’s Jisoo, and he always could.

[hysteria-things]

i lowkey need a fic of matt as a dad and their kid walks in while matt and y/n are yk, and she thinks matt is hurting her mom but their just fucking.

and you can make up the rest. if you do end up doing this, thank you 🙏

CLOSE CALL

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dilf!matt x babysitter!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: matt’s daughter mistakenly thinks he’s hurting you, when in reality, it’s just the sound of your moans carrying through the walls.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT/FLUFF (?), swearing, oral (female receiving), almost caught, child crying

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 677

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i hope it’s okay i changed the request up just a little bit! i just think this fits perfectly for dolly and matt :)

(dilf!matt au originally by @luvs4matt)

small gasps and whines leave your lips while you grasp onto matt’s hair, tugging at the dark strands with little force. your plush thighs squeeze around his head, his tongue working wonders and exploring deep within your crevices as you sit on his face. he can barely breathe in this position, but god help him if this is the way he goes.

you’ve helped him get evelyn to bed about an hour ago, and fifteen minutes after that he wasted no time tearing off your clothes. although she’s five years old, his daughter has been noticing you staying around longer than usual, but she doesn’t mind it. at all, actually. she loves you to death.

“f-fuck matt.” you moan out, the erotic sound of his mouth sucking at your clit like music to his ears. you can feel your body fill up with ecstasy, your only focus is on the way he’s lapping at the sweet spot he knows all too well at this point.

your hips start to roll at the speed of his tongue, and that only makes your moans grow louder. usually, he’d tell you to quiet down, but he’s so pussy drunk that he doesn’t care in this moment. his fingertips dig harder into your skin that’ll promise bruises in the morning. he hums into your cunt, the vibration shooting up your spine, a small whimper leaving your lips. his nose keeps nudging at your bud, eating you out tenderly with arousal coating his mouth. your eyes roll back along with your head, whimpering for a second time.

“oh, shit!” you cry out, legs trembling as you near orgasm. “right there! i-i’m gonna—”

a loud knocking at the door makes you jump, immediately raising yourself from his face. “stop it!” a small voice yells, and you look at matt in horror. you couldn’t have possibly been that loud, right? there’s no way she knows what you two are up to. “stop hurting her!” the voice says again, and that makes both you and matt’s hearts sink. thank the lord evelyn doesn’t know what’s going on, but that doesn’t help the fact that she thinks her father is hurting you.

you scurry off of him, finding your clothes and throwing them on while matt does the same. wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he jogs to the door and unlocks it. once opened, it reveals a sobbing evelyn, and the sight makes you frown. when matt goes to touch her, she backs away. “stop it!” she repeats.

gently, you grab his shoulders and move him aside to go pick up ev, who welcomes you with open arms once she sees you ducking down. she cries into your chest, tears staining your shirt while you whisper into her ear to try and calm her down while rubbing her back.

after a minute or so, she starts to relax as the three of you now sit on the bed. “come here, pumpkin.” matt says softly, fingers ushering evelyn to come over to him. she sits there for a second before crawling across your lap to sit on his. “you know daddy will never hurt anybody, correct?” he questions calmly, tucking a strand of curly brunette hair behind her ear. “i never hurt you or mommy.”

she nods through sniffles, trying to contain her breathing.

“so why would you think i’m hurting y/n?” he continues. “there’s not a thought in my mind that’ll make me do that. ever.”

“it sounded like she—she was in pain.” the little girl says, making your frown deepen and her tears start to fall again. “i-i heard it from my r-room.”

“she wasn’t, baby. i promise.” matt explains straightforwardly, kissing ev on the head and running his hand up and down her front. “let’s get you back to sleep, okay?”

you get up from the bed, evelyn clinging to matt while he holds her with one arm while his other hand grabs yours without knowing it as you all head to her disney princess-themed bedroom.

oh, and she notices that, too.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @mbbsgf @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @freshsturns @etershine @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew @sturnsmadl @starz4star

[archangeldyke-all]

giggling so bad imagining R shaving her bush and sevika being like oh my god do u hate me?!?! what did I do?!?! how can I make it up to u I'm sorry pleeeeeease never do this again we can talk it out next time please 😭😭

LMAOOO

men and minors dni

last month, your period crept up on you, and you woke up half convinced you'd been stabbed in your sleep.

you and sevika didn't even try to salvage the sheets, just throwing them in the trash before re-making the bed. your pajamas were ruined, and, grossest of all, your crotch was a sticky, bloody mess.

so, this month to avoid any more incidents, you've been sleeping on a towel in anticipation, wearing a pad to bed just in case, and... you've shaved.

you haven't shaved in years. you and sevika are both bush enjoyers, and neither of you have ever felt the need to take a razor to your pits or legs since you started dating. finding a razor to use is almost impossible, but you manage to find one buried in the far back of your bathroom closet.

you feel so... cold. and smooth. you're hyper-aware of the feeling of your underwear rubbing on your skin. it's strange. not unpleasant, but strange. with one last look down your pants at your hair-less pussy, you shrug and crawl into bed.

you think that's the end of it.

you go to sleep easily, waking up about an hour later when sevika crawls in bed behind you. she kisses you gently and you hum, wrapping your arms around her before you both fall asleep.

in the morning, though, you wake up to a horrified gasp.

"what!? what is it, is someone breaking in?" you ask, sitting up in bed and rubbing your eyes. as you pull your hands away, though, you don't find sevika sitting beside you where she should be. she's hovering on top of you on all fours, a horrified look on her face. "sevika, what?!" you ask, your heart pounding in your chest.

"you shaved?!" sevika cries. you blink, your mind still half asleep, before finally looking down at your crotch.

you burst into laughter as you do. sevika's pulled your pants down your thighs in your sleep, clearly trying to give you a nice wake up call, and she's just now seeing your bare cunt. "sevika, for fuck's sake, i thought something horrible happened!" you laugh.

"something horrible has happened! why the fuck did you shave!?" sevika asks, her eyes wide and heartbroken. "d-did i piss you off, or something? whatever it is, baby, i promise i'll make it up to yo--"

"sevika!" you cackle. sevika pouts as she looks up from your pussy to your face. "baby, i shaved because my period's on the way and i didn't wanna deal with the mess again."

sevika's looking at you like you've lost your mind. "wha-- fuck that!" she whines. you chuckle. "what the fuck am i supposed to do when i'm goin' down on you now? my nose is gonna get all cold, i won't have anything to run my fingers through..." sevika looks seriously upset. you giggle just a little at the absurdity of the situation, then reach up to cup her face.

"it'll grow back, baby." you promise. sevika frowns.

"but then you'll just shave it off again!"

"no, i won't babe." you say. "not if you feel this strongly about it. plus, it's a lotta work-- i was scared to death i was gonna cut one of my lips off or something."

sevika chuckles. "thank you." she sighs, kissing your lips. you grin.

"thank you. y'know, most people have to deal with the opposite-- their partners forcin' them to shave before any intimacy at all... i'm glad you prefer the option that requires the least amount of work possible for me."

sevika giggles and kisses you. "i am pretty amazing, aren't i?" she asks. you nod.

"the fuckin' best." you agree.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Day 1: Size kink

Kinktober

Peter Steele was the bassist of metal band Type O Negative, he was also the lead singer and had a beautifully deep voice, it was no surprise that girls wanted him

Well, that and the fact he was huge.

Peter was bigger than… well, everyone. At 6’8 he was a beast of a man, and he was your man.

“Cmon, pretty,” he said, his pet name for your rolling off his tongue through a devilish grin, “you can do it this time, just go slow.” He says, leaning back on the bed, stripped of his clothes.

You stood at the end of the bed, eyeing his sculpted figure carefully. You’d never been able to take all of him, you’re record was half and that was because he was pissed and forgot to be careful with you.

Today was the day, you’d promised him this morning during breakfast as he scarfed down half the kitchen. However, now that you were standing staring at him, you weren’t so sure you could do it, even though you knew how good it would feel for the both of you, you knew how much easier it would be for Peter…

You crawled over the bed and straddled his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist so he could pull you closer, kissing your lips sweetly though he still tasted of spaghetti.

His hands moved down your body and to your ass, nimble fingers slipping under you and through your wet folds. You moaned into the kiss as he pushed a finger into you, curling it into your gummy walls.

He always made sure you were good and ready for him, it might feel like he was tearing you apart but he didn’t want to hurt you. Well, hurt you more than necessary.

He pushed another finger into you, scissoring your hole and getting you used to the stretch. He kept his lips on you, tongue slipping into your mouth, lips trailing over your jaw and down your neck all while your moans echoed off the walls at his tentative hands.

He added a third finger and watched your back arch, face contorting in pleasure as his fingers made work on your hole.

“Think you’re ready for me, darling?” He asked, voice soft in your ear.

You let out a soft whine, not ready to get off his fingers. “Go slow..?” You asked, looking him in the eyes.

Peter smiled and nodded. “Of course, anything for you, darling.” He kissed your lips a last time before pulling his fingers from you. You whined at the loss, clenching around nothing and feeling empty.

It didn’t last long, though, as Peter lined his thick tip with your entrance, pushing into you in a slow thrust. He stopped every few inches to make sure you got used to him.

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” He asked. The stretch was familiar and pleasant, he was about halfway in now.

While he always made a point to be gentle with you all he wanted to do every time he had you like this was take what he wanted. He wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be walking for at least a month, without that he’d never truly been satisfied, though he’d never tell you that.

You shook your head, eyes shut tight as you felt him deep inside you already.

“Alright, whatever you say, darling.” He said with a smiling softly. He hand his hands on your hips, holding you up and slowly lowering you down on him.

Your hand slid from his shoulder to his chest and he took it as a sign to stop, but he didn’t want to. He was so close to finally getting what he wanted and you were about to take it away… again…

It’s not that he didn’t understand, and loved you so he’d make accommodations and go slow, take it easy on you, it was just harder for some reason.

He’d been expecting this all day, waiting for this since you started dating, and here you were, stopping him.

He shifted his grip on you slightly before pushing you the rest of the way down on him.

Your eyes shot open, practically bugging out of your head. Peters eyes were glue to the bump in your belly, hand coming up and covering it easily, pushing on it gently.

“Fuck, Peter!” You cried, eyes filling with tears at the sting.

“Give it a minute.” He said, but he didn’t give you a minute, he started rolling his hips up into you, fucking you sweet and slow, but so, so deep.

He lifted you and put you onto your back, taking both your hands in one of his and holding them above your head, pinning your wrists to the mattress as he fucked you, pulling almost all the way out, leaving just the tip in, before plunging all the way back into you.

Peter watched the bulge in your stomach come and go with every thrust, mesmerized by it all while you were crying in the background.

It felt good. So good. Your thighs ached from being parted by his large frame, body squirming under him. You felt like he was tearing you in two in the best way possible.

His thrusts were fast and hard, desperate for something he’d been needing for what felt like forever.

“Feels so good, darling, so tight around me.” He mused, a low grumble in his deep voice. He brought his dark gaze to meet yours, seeing the tears running down your cheeks, hearing how you cried out for him to stop, to slow down. “Shut up and take it like a good little bitch.” He spat.

He’d never spoken to you like that, never spat in your face like you were worthless, only good to be a sex toy.

You couldn’t deny how good it felt, your body ached for more.

Late into the night, high after high. Your body was sore, cum seeping out of you. Peter had you on your knees, face shoved into the pillows to silence your screaming, although noise stopped coming out of you awhile ago, now only a dazed look on your face as drool dribbled past your bruised lips into the pillow.

Peter was far from done, he’d finally gotten to fuck you like he’d always wanted, he wasn’t gonna stop now, he couldn’t even if he tried

[mandarinmoons]

hi! could I maybe request a spencer x reader where reader is a college student (she's like 20 something) and her exams are coming up and she's really struggling with stress and anxiety and low self esteem and no motivation and in the process shuts spencer off but spencer is a very stubborn and caring boyfriend and tries to help her?

have a great day love! 🫶🏻

Countless papers and empty cups of coffee littered your desk as you were sitting, slouched in your chair. You’d lost count of what time it was, the last thing you remember was that it was around 8:30 in the morning when you woke up, had some toast for breakfast and dove into your studies. Now, the sun was setting and your stomach was aching because of how empty it was and yet you still stayed in the exact same position, scanning your notes and trying to memorize every detail.

You were so deep in your studies that you didn’t hear your boyfriend Spencer let himself in. Spencer looked over your apartment and saw how unlived it looked. Usually your TV would be on with a random show playing in the background and the smell of your favorite candle filling the air, but it was dead silent and no hint of magnolia was sensed anywhere.

As he walked into the kitchen he barely saw any dishes in the sink which made him concerned. Spencer knew that you were working hard on preparing for your final exams, but seeing you not taking the time to take care of yourself worried him deeply.

Spencer walked to your bedroom and sighed when he saw you resting your head on your desk, head nestled between your arms.

“Sweetheart…”,

He made his way to you and rested his hand on your head, his thumb caressing over your hair. The act of affection awoke you and you stayed put as you let Spencer comfort you.

“I think you’ve been working too much.”

“I’m okay.”

Spencer crouched down to your level and brushed the hair out of your face, “Your face says otherwise.”

You rolled your eyes at his words and a light chuckle left his lips. Spencer was always worried about your well being and especially for the past few weeks. You had a habit of throwing yourself into your work and giving it your all, but in the process you’d forget to take care of your basic everyday needs and Spencer was adamant about reminding you of the smallest of tasks, from brushing your teeth to drinking enough water.

“Spencer, I’m alright. You don’t have to keep checking up on me.”

Spencer wanted to believe you, but the tears in the corners of your eyes told a different story.

“I’m fine Spence, really,” the tears poured down your face before you had a chance to hide them, your throat burning as you tried to hold back a cry.

Feeling ashamed, you wiped at your cheeks harshly and Spencer pulled you tight into his chest, one hand still caressing your head while the other one rested on your back.

Sobs racked through your body as all the pent up stress finally had a chance to be let out, shaking from anxiety and hiccups being choked out.

After some time, your cries calmed down and you felt your body go limp in Spencer’s arms, as the crying had exhausted you to the point where you thought you would fall asleep right then and there.

Before you had a chance to let the exhaustion consume you, you felt Spencer pick you up and lay you down on your bed. He crawled down next to you and brushed his thumb over the red streaks across your cheeks. He looked so sad, seeing how your state of being affected him so much made you feel guilty. Why couldn’t you have taken more breaks? Spencer was probably scolding you inside his head for skipping lunch so many times.

“I’m not mad at you, you know.”

“You’re not?”

Spencer shook his head and rubbed his thumb over your temple, “I could never be mad at you.”

Another set of tears were burning your eyes as you took in his words. Before they had a chance to spill over, Spencer nuzzled closer and kissed your cheek a few times causing you to giggle.

“I hope you know you’re not getting rid of me so easily.”

“I know.”

“Good, now,” Spencer pulled you close into his chest, the smell of his cologne instantly putting you at ease. It's as if the anxiety attack you experienced not too long ago never even happened.

“I want you to stay put for the next hour or so, just rest and then later we’re going to take a bath and have a nice dinner, how does that sound?”

“That sounds amazing,” your face was already tucked into the crook of his neck, feeling Spencer squirm lightly as your breath tickled his neck.

It always amused you how sensitive he was and you were trying your best not to place a kiss to the skin of his neck as you knew he’d erupt into laughter, a sound that easily made even the worst days brighter, but you decided not to tease him, for now at least.

What was supposed to be an hour of cuddling, turned into both of you waking up at 9 PM, dazed and not knowing what planet either of you were on.

Seeing that it was a little too late to prepare dinner at this time at night, you both settled on frying some eggs & bacon and Spencer cut up some fruit for the side, as well as telling you some fun facts about them.

“Did you know that bananas are full of several types of antioxidants that are linked to reduced risk of heart disease and macular degeneration?”

“I do now.”

As you finished eating, Spencer wouldn’t let you go back to sleep until you had a shower. You huffed and got in the shower, letting the warm water run down your body as you lathered your loofah in soap.

Walking out of the bathroom clean & fresh, you walked to your bedroom and a gasp left your lips as you took in the sight in front of you.

The room was lit up with candles, the signature scent of magnolia in the air. The bed was covered in multiple pillows and blankets, making it the coziest spot you’ve seen in a while, while the papers on your desk were organized into neat stacks.

“How’re you feeling?”

Turning your head, Spencer walked in and held two mugs, the smell of peppermint emanating from them. Peppermint tea, once again, one of your favorites.

“A lot better now, thanks,” Spencer handed you the mug as the both of you sat on the edge of the bed.

“Y/N, you can’t keep going on like this.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes settled on the mug in your hands as Spencer’s hand found its spot on your lower back again.

“Don’t be sorry, just try to tell me when you need some help, okay?”

“I will.”

“Good.”

Spencer pressed his lips to your forehead in a kiss before resting his own forehead against yours, as a simple act of intimacy that meant the whole world.

“Now c’mon, let’s have our tea before it gets cold.”

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @kimm4710 @niktwazny303 @reidsdaisies @mindfullycriminal @cumulo-stratus @themarauderseraslut @gayfor-rosadiaz @gubsbuubs @multifandomsimp69 @chyozai @deppfanatic @potatovoyager @indyvelazquez @nini123 @justlivinginadaydream

If you'd like to be removed from the taglist send me a DM or a message in my inbox

If you want to be a part of my taglist go here!

You can find my masterlist here!

Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3

[sanjisleggy]

the siren and the sun (portgas d. ace x reader) [pt1]

a/n: here it is,, on 1st Jan 2025,,, the first part of my childhood friend!reader x ace series! :D i honestly have no concrete plan going forward but i’m rly excited to work on this so i hope you guys enjoy reading it as well <3

contents: fem!reader, descriptions of drowning, very pining!Ace, lowkey jealous!Ace, some angst, protective dad!Whitebeard

wc. 3k

wanna be on my taglist?

part 2

i. 

the salty ocean water was frigid, nearly sending your flailing body into shock purely from the sudden cold. as you struggled to keep your head above water, the waves crashed mercilessly against each other, leaving you as merely collateral damage.

you could faintly hear the cries of the boy you left home with. 

he screamed your name, his panicked voice intermingling with the sound of thunder and pouring rain. every now and then you could feel his calloused yet slippery hand brush against yours in a futile attempt to pull you aboard the tiny fishing boat you’d set sail on weeks ago.

you wake up with a start, body jolting upward as your foggy mind takes its time separating the dream of your past from your present. you feel the faint bobbing of the Moby Dick and realise your crew must’ve docked while you were still asleep. 

rubbing your sleepy eyes, you struggle to remember what Marco had told you last night–something about a rookie pirate crew causing trouble for Jinbei. however, before you can recall all the details, you hear a knock on your door.

“come in,” you groan as you crawl out of bed whilst your visitor swings open the door. speak of the devil, you think to yourself as the Phoenix himself greets you a good morning.

his was the first face you saw when you came to. the unfamiliar man was gentle and patient even when you tried your hardest to punch him in the face out of panic. you were in a room–an infirmary?–that you’d never seen before in your life with wires and tubes of all kinds attached to your body.

a simple glance down at your clothes made your face heat up when you realised someone must’ve changed them for you while you were unconscious. the shame of the revelation was short-lived, however, when the only door in the room swung open to reveal someone you never thought you’d meet in your whole life.

“there’s someone you might want to see,” your closest crewmate announces without any further elaboration. “i’ll wait for you in the infirmary.” Marco shoots you a smile before heading off, not bothering to wait for a response.

curiosity getting the better of you, you quickly wash up and change your clothes before exiting your room. your crewmates greet you good morning as you speed past them, your legs moving on autopilot towards the place you spend the most time in–second only to your own personal quarters. just a few steps away from the infirmary door, you hear muffled yelling followed by the deep toned voice you’d come to love and cherish.

before you stood Whitebeard himself, the strongest man alive. just his mere presence was enough to both render you speechless and freeze you in place as you stared unblinkingly up at the man who was so tall his head nearly brushed the ceiling. the first man you saw, meanwhile, simply stood in the corner of the room with his arms crossed, an oddly relaxed smile on his face.

“you’re lucky to be alive, little one,” Whitebeard said, his voice so deep you swore the entire room trembled. “we aren’t holding you captive so stop making a fuss. you may leave whenever you wish.”

“i have nowhere else to go.” you couldn’t help the tears as they welled up in your eyes, the shock of your near-death experience hitting you suddenly all at once. digging your fingers into your scalp, you hung your head and cried. “all i remember was falling out of the boat my friend and i were on during a storm. i don’t even know if he’s alive anymore. i don’t know what to do!”

the two men watched in silence as you sobbed but even then you could tell there was no judgement on their end. you felt no shame or embarrassment as you cried in their presence, only an odd sense of comfort.

“then be my daughter,” Whitebeard said simply, “and live your life as you wish.”

before you can even reach out your hand to grab the door knob, the entire door flies off its hinges. it shoots past your face, barely grazing your nose, and hits the deck railing before falling overboard entirely, hitting the sea below with a splash… and a sizzle?

your initial shock morphs into annoyance and anger, your heart clearly not pleased to be tested in such a way so soon after waking. you turn to face the infirmary doorway–now missing the whole door–and mentally prepare yourself to use your Devil Fruit ability in the case of an intruder.

a tall silhouette emerges from the smoke flooding the room but before you can see their face, you spot a ball of fire appearing where their hand should be. then, the person runs straight towards you.

“(Y/N)!” you hear some of your crewmates cry out in surprise as the intruder bodyslams you into the railing. the both of you still engulfed by the smoke exiting the infirmary, you’re unable to make out the stranger’s face as they reach out to grab your neck with their other hand reeled back, flames still dancing on their fingertips. gripping the hand that continues to grasp your throat, you struggle to pry yourself free.

“st–” you feel the familiar numbing sensation spread across your throat and tongue as you activate your Devil Fruit ability. however, before you can complete the command, the remaining smoke clears to reveal the face of your assailant and your eyes widen in recognition.

“Ace?” you gasp, your heart, already beating rapidly from the shock of the attack, races even faster. it pounds fiercely within the confines of your ribcage, almost threatening to burst free from your body entirely as you stare up at the boy you never thought you’d see again.

“you’re alive?” Ace murmurs, the flames wrapped around his curled fist dissipating into nothingness as he lets go of your throat quickly–as though you were the one set ablaze and he’d been burnt. “you’re alive!” he repeats breathlessly before he wraps his arms around you and buries his face into the crook of your neck.

you feel a wetness on your skin as the boy begins to tremble, hands gripping onto your clothes for dear life whilst he slowly sinks to his knees, pulling you down with him. you’re quick to return the hug, your teary eyes fluttering shut as you bask in the long-forgotten feeling of being hugged by Portgas D. Ace.

ii. 

you’re so pretty.

sitting cross-legged on your bed, Ace watches you silently as you move about your room, tidying up loose clothes and random belongings scattered about. seemingly too focused on cleaning up, you fail to realise how intently he stares. his eyes stay pinned to your face, occasionally trailing down to the rest of you but always going back to your face–the face he’d spent countless sleepless nights trying his hardest to never forget; the face that haunted him in his dreams.

he wanted badly to tell you how he felt. although, he considered himself lucky enough you hadn’t caught on yet yourself, considering how red his face must’ve looked–especially right now as he watched Luffy swing amongst the trees with you clinging onto his back.

his younger brother laughed with little restraint while you screamed, almost on the verge of tears; and yet you never asked to be put back down on the ground. all three of you knew how much you loved adrenaline rushes.

Ace simply watched as he laid on the grass, the upper half of his body propped up by his arms. it was a hot day on Dawn Island but he was mostly protected from the sun’s rays by the shade provided by the same trees his brother and you played on.

just then you’d let out yet another yelp of surprise–the result of a particularly sharp drop, courtesy of Luffy–and Ace swore his heart stopped for just a second. he’d felt his arms and legs twitch on their own accord, as though instinctively prepared to catch you if you fell.

“Ace?” your voice snaps him out of his reverie. it’s older now, just a bit more mature than how he’d remembered it. you look older, as well, though you hadn’t grown any much taller. he recalls how for the first few years of your friendship, you loved reminding him how much taller you were–only to watch helplessly as he easily outgrew you in your mid-teens. “Ace?” you call his name again, this time waving your hand in front of his face.

“yeah?” he blinks a couple of times as though grounding himself back to reality. you’re leaning over slightly now, face hovering close enough to his own that he can feel the faint wisps of your breath. Ace feels his own face grow warm and hopes you don’t think too much of it. 

“Pops said you can stay in my room so i asked Marco to lend me some of his old clothes in case you want to change into something else.”

“who says i’m staying?” the words slip out before Ace can even process their meaning. in all honesty, he wants nothing more than to be by your side again but the thought of pledging any kind of allegiance to Whitebeard makes his blood run hot.

“oh.” you don’t try very hard to hide the disappointment on your face and almost immediately Ace wishes he can take it all back. “sorry, i guess i just assumed you were going to join us.” you shoot him a halfhearted smile before turning to walk away to pick up some books you’d left scattered on the floor nearby.

us? when was the last time you and i were separate ‘us’s?

“(Y/N), i–” he tries to speak without thinking about what he wants to say, hoping only to somehow salvage the conversation.

“no, it’s fine.” you cut him off and Ace can tell from the tone of your voice that you mean what you’re about to say with full sincerity. “you have your own crew now, right? the Spade Pirates? i like that name.” you turn to look at him again, this time with a much less forced smile. “both you and Luffy always wanted to be captains so i understand.”

you can come with me.

“i’m here to kill Whitebeard.” 

“i know.”

“you’re not gonna try to stop me?”

“she doesn’t have to,” a third voice intervenes from the open door of your quarters. Ace’s head snaps sharply in the direction of the intruder, sparks already flying from his fingertips as he glares at who he recognises as the man who had apparently nursed him back to health.

Marco merely smiles at Ace before entering your room fully with an arm full of clothes. Ace watches as the older man stands close to you, even ducking his head slightly to say something just out of earshot. you reply with your own whispered murmurs, clearly not wanting Ace to listen in on any part of the conversation.

the thought alone makes his heart sink. he can’t remember the last time you’d left him out on something.

iii.

although he’s curious, Ace doesn’t bother asking Marco what he’d meant when he said you “didn’t have to” stop him. simply chalking it up to some vague attempt at subtly reminding him of the Whitebeard crew’s overwhelming manpower. much to his chagrin, though, he finds himself constantly presented with the opportunity to clarify his doubts with the crew’s doctor since it seems like you work closely with him.

“he’s following you around like a puppy,” Marco comments as the two of you make your way to the dining room with Ace trailing closely behind, his hand holding loosely onto the free-hanging excess of your belt. you simply laugh in response, shooting a quick glance at him before returning your attention to your crewmate. as much as he’s tempted to throw a punch at the older man for the perceived slight, he holds himself back for your sake.

“join me tomorrow. let’s set sail together.” his eyes shone brightly even under the cover of night. Ace grabbed your hands, engulfing them in his own larger ones as he pulled you closer. “we can start our own crew and you’ll be my first mate.”

your lack of response lasted for a minute that felt far too uncomfortable, so much so that he’d almost started second-guessing himself. maybe he’d assumed too much thinking you’d want to follow someone like him.

“what makes you think you won’t be my first mate?” you laughed, unaware of how with just a few words you’d lifted an enormous weight off his shoulders. “what if i wanna be captain? will you take back your offer?”

“i might consider it.”

“consider uninviting me?” you gasped in an exaggerated manner.

“nope. i might consider letting you be captain. no guarantees, though.” you knew he’d said it as a joke–which it was–but a small part of Ace knew, if it really came down to it, he wouldn’t mind being your first mate.

dinner is incredibly uncomfortable–for Ace, at least. for some reason you’d chosen to sit right across from Whitebeard himself while Marco opted to sit beside his captain and, thusly, directly across from Ace.

the first few minutes of eating go without any conversation with your table being the only one that remains completely silent. meanwhile, the rest of the crew that had chosen to also eat in the room instead of out on the deck go about chatting animatedly–at the very least, the endless noise makes for a good distraction from the fact that the man Ace so desperately wants to kill is sitting right in front of him.

“i hear you refuse to join my crew,” Whitebeard finally says, looking directly into Ace’s eyes with the calmness one would not find in a man speaking to his wannabe-assassin.

“i won’t need to join you once i kill you.” out of the corner of his eye, he sees you shooting him a look but he’s far too busy gritting his teeth and keeping it together to break eye contact. 

“very well,” Whitebeard chuckles heartily, “feel free to keep trying.” Marco smirks at his captain’s response and it takes all of Ace’s willpower not to start a fight right then and there. “in that case, though, i won’t let you share (Y/N)’s room.”

“Pops!” you whined in protest. “it’s fine, i trust Ace. he can stay with me.”

“there’s no way i’m risking my beloved daughter’s life. you may trust him but i don’t. not yet, at least.”

without considering that his actions might just prove Whitebeard right, Ace swings his fist at the older man as he lunges across the table. all he can see in that moment is red, his heart pounding his burning blood through the veins in his body.

“don’t tell (Y/N) what she can or can’t do,” Ace barks, “she was my friend before she became your daughter!” as his fiery fist nears Whitebeard’s face, the younger man takes a split second to realise no one’s reacting, not even the target himself.

“stop!” your voice rings out throughout the room but it sounds different somehow. though you said but a single word, Ace feels it linger in the air far longer than any noise should, the sound itself almost feeling as though it’s piercing his brain through his ears. the onlookers all wince in response but none of them look nearly as affected as he does.

it’s right then he realises: he can’t move. 

his now-extinguished fist remains midair, his knuckles just a few centimetres from Whitebeard’s nose, as his body stays frozen and lunged across the table. his mind is still clearly in his control, Ace can tell at the very least, but he’s physically unable to move at all. he screams at himself internally to do something, anything, to break free but it’s as though something somewhere deep in his subconscious is stopping him from doing what he wants. 

“release.” you command before Ace’s body slumps like a ragdoll onto the dining table, his face slamming directly into the aged wood. he hears the sound of ceramic and metal hitting the ground as he groans, suddenly feeling an overwhelming wave of exhaustion wash over him.

“i’m so sorry,” you say frantically as he feels your warm hands pull him off the table and back into a sitting position beside you. “you left me no choice, Ace.” with one hand cupping his face, turning his head to look at you, the other combs through his wavy hair and he nearly shudders from the feeling of your nails scratching his scalp.

as you continue to fuss over him, even going so far as to grab a few napkins to clean up his face and clothes, Ace remains in a daze. he can hear Whitebeard and Marco conversing from across the table but their words fly over his head as he keeps his eyes pinned on you. he still feels a tad breathless, though now he’s unsure if it’s because of what you’d done to him just a moment ago, or rather because you’re taking care of him.

Ace grabs the hand you have cupping his face and holds it there, basking in its warmth which used to be familiar. allowing his eyes to flutter closed, he nuzzles his face into your palm, uncaring of the stares undoubtedly being pointed his way. 

he realises, slowly, how much you’ve grown and changed. how different you are from the girl he grew up with; and yet everything about you still feels the same. the warmth of your hand, the way you smell, the inflections in your voice. feeling a pang in his chest, it dawns on Ace that, at some point, he’ll have to choose between his goal of killing Whitebeard and being with you. 

gen taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7

series taglist: @captainportgasdace @mitskisaveme @graveyardsweethearts @vaniiiavengeance @stuckinmymind22

[nvtstvrns]

𝐵𝓊𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒪𝓋𝑒𝓃

Dad!matt, mom!reader

Summary: you already have a three year old kid and you’re currently 26 weeks (6 months) pregnant with your second kid. You can’t get your toddler to sleep and you get overwhelmed, Matt helps you.

Contains: dad!matt, fluff, pregnancy, toddler, mentions of anxiety.

Authors note: the unborn baby is going to be referred to as bun and the three year old is going to be named Aria (It’s too confusing to call it b/n)

Divider creds: me

I was laying in Matt and I’s shared bed, Matt was laying next to me on his phone and Aria was sitting in between us, her little head was rested on my belly, where another baby is currently growing. I brush my hands through Aria’s soft hair and she watches Peppa Pig.

“Hey Ari, it’s time to go to bed, do you wanna tell daddy night night?” I ask the little girl resting on my belly, I forgot it was almost 10pm and she needed her sleep.

“No! Ion wanna go sleep!” She says her little arms crossing over her chest. She pouts next to me continuing to watch the tv.

“Matt a little help here?” I say tapping his shoulder making sure he wasn’t asleep or something. “She won’t go to bed.”

Matt turns to face us and he picks Aria up. “Come on Aria, don’t be so sad, you’ll see us and bun tomorrow morning.” He says looking over at my belly. I rub my hand on it and look up at Matt smiling softly.

“Yeah Ari, you need your sleep to grow big and strong.” I tell her. She crosses her arms again and lets out a “hmmph.” I roll my eyes and I pick her up off of Matt’s lap. “Let’s go sweetheart.”

“No! I wan daddy!” She says pulling away from me and while she was flailing her arms and legs she kicks my stomach. “Oh God…” I say putting a hand on my stomach and giving Aria back to Matt.

“Hey are you okay?” He asks quickly getting up out of bed to see if I was okay. “Did she kick you hard?”

“No I’m okay, I was just a little sore.” I say rubbing circles on my stomach.

“Okay, you’re gonna get in bed and you’re gonna go to sleep while I put Aria to bed, you aren’t getting up for anything, I’ll get it for you if you need it.” Matt says picking Aria up and starts carrying her to her bedroom.

I lay back in bed and smile contently. I had such a perfect guy taking care of me and our sweet daughter, and I could tell that he personally loves whenever he gets any kind of personal time with her. I remember when I first found out I was pregnant he wanted a girl more than anything in this world and when we opened that envelope to see what it was he was ecstatic. He jumped around and whooped, he told every single person in his family that we were having a girl, he was so so proud especially the day that she was born, he even cried that day. So seeing him take care of her now made me really happy to see.

When he came back to the bedroom I was half asleep with Peppa Pig still playing in the background. He quietly crawls into bed and turns the tv off. “Ooh baby, finally some alone time with my favorite girl.” He says kissing my cheek gently.

“I was just about to go to sleep Matt.” I say opening my eyes gently,

“Oh I’m sorry, go to sleep baby, do you want me to rub your head for you? I know you had a headache earlier.” I dismiss his offer with a wave of my hand as I slowly fall asleep.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

When I wake up the next morning Matt had already gotten Aria up and changed into her day clothes, she was already eating breakfast and watching her morning cartoons.

“Oh my god Matt, you’re too good to me.” I say taking it all in. I sit at the counter and he gets me a plate of food.

“I’m just being helpful, after Bun is born I’m gonna be working double, I’m trying to get the idea so I won’t be overwhelmed,” he says digging into his own breakfast.

“You’re too good to me.” I say after I swallow a forkful of eggs.

“Just taking care of my girls.” He says coming to kiss my cheek softly.

Sorry this one was a little short, I didn’t know what to put in there to make it longer, I hope you enjoyed and have a great day!

[exormilion]

warmth

sevika/reader

word count: 1,036

summary: you have your period and sevika comforts you a bit. not explicit, contains non sexual nudity.

note: hi :) i tried to hint at endometriosis with this (i have it and am about to have the inevitable soul sucking bleeding) but its not that present! feel free to read if you dont have it! <3

link to ao3

─୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ─

You took comfort on Sevika's arm - strong, warm, the only arm she dared to touch you with - draped over your belly, now fully aware of the tingle that soon would progressively turn into a gut wrenching cramp.

Sighing, there was nothing you could do but stare at the ceiling, hoping that, with some miracle, it would all go away.

It didn't.

Sevika was gone a few hours later, leaving with a peck on the forehead and a wish for a good day. You refused to tell her you were in pain - she was dealing with too much alredy, so the mask slipped on and you gave her a curt hug, waving at her at the door while she walked away, mixing with the sea of people and creatures from Zaun. Maybe, after you were both home, tired and back in bed with nothing on but skin to skin, you'd ask her to warm your lower belly with her big palm or massage your aching thighs but thats a thing to consider later. Now, you needed to force yourself out of bed and get ready for work.

Work was work, as always. People in Zaun are always drunk, from morning to night and morning again, nothing out of the extraordinary.

Except for the cramps and the headache and your burning breasts. Yeah, it wasn't necessarily out of the ordinary, you felt a lot more pain and more often than most people but today was hard, so you were miserable and insufferable the whole day (but you did apologize to your coworker for snapping at her. She said "it was fine" and "we all had bad days" and you cried and got snot all over her shirt while she gave you a friendly hug and a pat on the back. You would probably stay up at night thinking about that and maybe consider quitting).

You got home late, really late. You were almost crawling by the time you reached the front door from the little place you shared with Sevika, and having to stop again and again to make sure you wouldn't puke your guts out in a alley, it took much longer than it should. As silently as you can - which probably didn't mean much now -, you get inside, lock the house and kick your shoes out, hands desperately trying to unbutton your pants and relieve the pressure on your swollen, terribly sensitive belly, leaning back on the wall by the door and shimmying out of the piece, sighing in relief as you stood only in your panties and the stained uniform shirt.

The sound of a lighter makes you jump out of your skin and you look up to find Sevika sitting on the couch, legs spread and head tilted in your direction as she lit her cigar, eyes questioning. Alredy out of her outside clothes and simply in a white thank top and black boxers, she looked as delicious as ever.

"Whats wrong?", she asks after blowing smoke, her hand patting her own thigh, "C'mere"

Trying to stay composed didn't work. You walked a little arched foward with your hands holding your belly and Sevika held the cigar between her lips to help you sit down on her leg, holding your hip in support and pushing your back against her chest after you were sat.

You stayed quiet for a bit, closing your eyes and enjoying her warmth. The smell of her cigar was comforting and her warm skin was soothing against your lower back, even with the clothes in between.

"Bleedin'", its all that comes out of your lips, a low murmur that echoed inside the silent living room. Sevika hummed, a small offer of compassion, another puff of smoke flying around.

"Worse than normal?", her thick voice asked. Despite her stoic voice and rough manners, Sevika cared deeply about you and always did what she could to make you feel a little bit better when in crisis like this.

"Yeah, horrible", sitting a bit straighter on her leg, you lift your shirt with a small grunt and throw it somewhere on the floor. Reaching behind your back to unclip the bra was a nightmare and Sevika didn't take long to unhook the think for you, briefly following the line of your spine with her index before taking the cigar from her lips and putting it out on the ashtray on top of the couch armrest. She pulled you back against her chest, her full attention now on your swollen, almost naked form, her heart squeezing with the thought of your pain.

"What can i do?", rasped out, caressing your belly softly. You were warm, inflamated, but the heat of her skin felt incredibly overpowering.

Taking her hand, you gently put her palm on your breast. Your tits always got painful and swollen, somehow heavy with the ache. It bothered you all day and the roughness of her hand always felt amazing on it - not a sexual caress, the way she just supported one of them and gently ran her thumb on the nipple. No, it was soothing, warming, and you waited the whole day just to have her like this. For her to have you.

"Warm", you eyes fall closed again, resting the back of your head on her shoulder and tilting to the side to smell her neck.

"Could've told me earlier", it came as a mutter, and you both knew it wasn't necessarily truth. The both of you needed to work, Sevika couldn't ditch Silco to take care of you... But the idea still warmed your insides.

"S'okay, just need to rest a bit", you feel her head turn and her nose nudged your, hinting at you to tilt your head up. You do, and her lips find yours in a tender wet kiss, your hand finding her cheek to bring her face closer.

"Y'sure?", she hums against your lips, breaths mixing, the scent of nicotine and whiskey that was so Sevika-like was your favorite.

"Mhm. Just staying here with you is enough."

[peachdues]

Tell Me to Stop: Part 2 (NSFW Kyojuro Rengoku x F!Ice Pillar)

A/N: oh man, it’s here. This took a lot out of me, so I hope that you all like it.

Part One can be found here: post-Mugen AU where Kyojuro lives; events take place post-Entertainment District.

Multiple POVs (Y/N, Shinobu, and Kyojuro). There are several flashbacks, which are in all italics and separated from the main text.

Massive TW: trauma/PTSD, anger, nightmares, descriptions of corpses, violence and violence between characters (shoving, grabbing/shaking). One character triggers another and it’s dubious whether it’s intentional or not.

CW: 16.7k words; explicit sexual content. Unprotected sex/oral (F!receiving), creampies, cursing, light scar worship, intimacy, angst.

For the song that inspired this, listen here.

Without further ado!

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Y/N’s POV)

Y/N began her rehabilitation training within one week of awakening from her coma.

For those seven days of rest, Y/N had fielded all sorts of visitors — the Master, escorted by his two daughters; the Love Pillar, who had wasted no time throwing her arms around Y/N’s shoulders and sobbing in relief; and three of the Mansion’s youngest girls, all of whom crawled up on her bed and cried while hugging her.

Uzui had sent her a note by crow telling her he would be by to see her as soon as his wives finished making her favorite treat — red bean mochi — and said they could compare battle wounds in celebration of their feat.

Y/N had neither seen nor heard as much of a whisper from the Flame Pillar.

The Ice Pillar resolved to distract herself from the glaring absence of the man who embodied fire, though every day that passed without word from him only seemed to make that absence more pronounced.

Y/N had thrown herself into her rehabilitation training, as supervised by Shinobu. Because she was a Hashira, her recovery was vastly different from that of lower-ranked slayers, and she worked with the Insect Pillar directly, rather than with the haughty Aoi and other younger Mansion girls.

That particular morning, the Love Pillar had joined them in an effort to recuperate Y/N’s loss of flexibility as the result of the nearly two months she’d spent sedentary. Y/N cherished the one-on-one time she had with the other two women Hashira; the three of them had formed a tight bond with one another since ascending as Pillars, united amidst the predominance of male demon slayers.  

“Good! Now just bend this way-“ Mitsuri Kanroji kept a steady hand at the small of Y/N’s back as Y/N arched over backward, teeth grinding as her stiff spine resisted her movement.

“Almost there! Just touch your other hand to the floor and hold it!” The Love Hashira said encouragingly.

Y/N stretched her left arm over her head as hard as she could. Her fingers had just graced the wooden grain of the training room floor when her body seized, and her legs gave out from under her.

“Oh!” Mitsuri caught Y/N effortlessly before she could crumple to the floor, gently helping her to sit while blushing at the stream of colorful curses that poured from the Ice Pillar’s mouth.  

“This damn wound,” Y/N moaned, her hand pressing against the angry red mark that curved from below her belly button to her right hip. “You would think it would have healed by now.”

Shinobu frowned as she crouched next to the Ice Pillar, fingers lightly prodding at the scar left behind by Upper Moon Six. “It has healed; if it hadn’t, it wouldn’t have scarred already.” Shinobu pursed her lips. “Though, I suppose it could just be a residual effect of the Upper Rank’s blood demon art – after all, it was no ordinary blade that he pierced you with, was it?”

Y/N shook her head, though she tried to suppress the memory of the demon’s cursed flesh blade ramming through her back and into her stomach. “The blade was his conduit for his blood demon art – but I think it was made from him.”

“How often does it hurt, Y/N?” Mitsuri asked, rubbing soothing circles on her friend’s upper back. Mitsuri was one of the few people Y/N knew who preferred to give physical comfort, and Y/N was grateful for it.

Y/N furrowed her brows in thought. “In a way, there’s always just this dull ache I feel, though it becomes sharper whenever I move a particular way.” Y/N pulled at the band of her uniform bottoms in discomfort. “And, it doesn’t help that these damn pants chafe and rub against it. I’ve even foregone the belt, and it still feels like they’re cutting into me.”

Mitsuri hummed in thought. “Have you considered one of the uniform skirts? They sit a little higher on the waist, so they’re less likely to aggravate it.”

Y/N scowled. “I would rather be stabbed by Upper Six again than request a skirt from that pervert tailor,” she said severely, “Sorry,” she added when she saw the Love Pillar flush with embarrassment.

“Lecherous Corps tailors aside, you may have a good point, Mitsuri.” Shinobu said, eyeing Y/N’s uniform pants in thought. “Y/N, do you mind if I brainstorm some designs for you? I can’t promise whatever I come up with will be suitable for public appearances or assignments, but I might be able to come up with something that will at least keep you comfortable while you heal and build back your strength.”

Y/N smiled as she stretched her legs out, bringing herself into a pose meant to flex her hips. “I’d be grateful for anything you could do, Shinobu.”

The Insect Pillar nodded. “Mitsuri, you know how to sew quite well, do you not? I’m afraid my proficiency with the needle is limited to sewing up wounds.”

The pinkette glowed with enthusiasm. “Yes! I have an entire room dedicated to sewing at my Estate – if you bring by your designs, I’m sure I could put something together!”

Shinobu smiled. “Then it’s settled. I’ll see what I can come up with tonight, and I’ll bring it by in the morning.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at the dedication her two friends showed towards her comfort and recovery. “Thank you both, from the bottom of my heart.”

Shinobu’s smile turned wicked. “Don’t thank us yet, Y/N. You have agility training next.”

Y/N groaned and pulled on her uniform top, buttoning it over her bindings. As a Hashira, agility training meant that she was to meet the Wind Pillar outside of Kocho’s estate where she would endure two hours of having to dodge his relentless attacks. Y/N got along just fine with Shinazugawa – he’d even welcomed her back, and gruffly complimented her work in the Entertainment District – but that did not mean he eased up in his ruthless training.  

By the time the Wind Pillar had dismissed her with a satisfied nod, Y/N had all but limped back to her room, wondering whether she could even summon the strength to bathe after such an arduous day. She almost decided against it, but when her newest scar began to pulse and throb once more, she knew nothing else would soothe it better than the hot water in Kocho’s private hot spring.

Y/N greeted the bowing Kakushi who guarded the entrance to the northernmost wing of the Butterfly Mansion’s hospital as she passed by, and she hoped that Aoi had remembered to restock her room with fresh towels so she could go straight to her bath from her room.

She drew short at the sight of a familiar figure which stood outside of Kocho’s office, leaning against the wall of the small hallway.

“Rengoku!” Y/N was startled, taking a step back in surprise at the sight of the Flame Pillar.

“Y/L/N.” The man who reminded her of the sun nodded in greeting, but his familiar, sunny disposition was noticeably absent, his face impassive and his voice detached.

“I am happy to see you in good health.” Rengoku spoke with unnatural formality; he’d never used that cold, detached manner of speaking to her, not once since she’d caught him staring at her right before the commencement of Final Selection all those years ago.

--------------------------------------------------------

“Ice Pillar Y/L/N!” His sunny voice boomed, and Y/N groaned. She’d just gotten her migraine to calm down.

“Rengoku,” she nodded politely, as her comrade came to stand beside her, all smiles and warmth. 

“It’s been a while, Y/L/N! I was beginning to forget what you look like when you roll your eyes at me.” He laughed, and Y/N scowled.

“Perhaps I’ll pay to have my photograph taken, Rengoku. That way, you can carry it with you wherever you go.”

Rengoku turned to her, an eyebrow raised in surprise at her willingness to engage with his banter so quickly. “If that’s the case, Y/N, I’d prefer to have one of you smiling. It would do well to keep me warm on those cold nights away from home.”

--------------------------------------------------------

“I heard you were called away on another mission— some train?” Y/N asked him as they strolled through the Master’s garden following their meeting.

“Yes, we’ve unfortunately lost a number of slayers. Perhaps it’s an upper rank!” The Flame Pillar responded jovially, but he stopped in front of Y/N when he saw her frown.

“What is it?” His voice was gentle, and Y/N shook her head, focusing her eyes on the blooming wisteria saplings that had been planted.

A warm finger curled under her chin and tilted her face up until her eyes clashed with pools of golden ore. “My dear Ice Pillar, are you worried for me?” He was smirking, and his thumb lightly caressed the underside of her jaw.

Y/N gingerly took his hand and removed it from her face, though she did not let it go right away. “You are the Flame Hashira, Rengoku. If anyone is capable of defeating an Upper Rank, it most certainly is you.” 

Rengoku smiled broadly at her, his hand nearly grazing her own. “For someone whose prowess lies in ice breathing, Y/L/N, you sure know how to start fires.”

Under any other circumstance, she would have changed the subject, or not said anything at all. But Y/N couldn’t help her sudden desire to flirt back, just to see if she could knock him off his feet as he so often tried to do to her.

“Yours is the only one I’m interested in stoking, Rengoku.” She said sweetly.

She’d laughed at the Flame Pillar’s beet-red face for the rest of the day.

------------------------------------------------------

“And I, you.” Y/N responded, her eyes still wide with surprise as she came to a stop before him, maintaining a cautious distance between them.

A pregnant pause followed, and Y/N made to speak once more, but she was cut off by another deep throb from the wound on her lower abdomen, her hand unconsciously flying to press against it as she swallowed the gasp that threatened to leave her.   

“You’re in pain.” It wasn’t a question.

Y/N shrugged in a feeble attempt at nonchalance. “I suppose it’s to be expected for a while yet. At least until I recover.”

Rengoku said nothing, and the silence felt suffocating.

“Would you-“ Y/N hesitated, and inwardly she’d never felt more embarrassed, or more uncertain than she did then as she stood before the uncharacteristically stoic Flame Pillar. “Would you like to sit down?”

Rengoku’s face remained impassive, and he turned away from her, dismissively.

“I cannot. I came only to retrieve a salve from Kocho.” His voice was just as cold, just as unfamiliar as the rest of him had been.

“Rengoku, is everything all right?” She stretched out a hand to touch his shoulder but was alarmed at how quickly he flinched away from her as if her touch could burn him.

“Everything is fine, Y/L/N. I need to be on my way.” Rengoku’s voice was flat, monotone, and wholly foreign to her.

“I’m sorry for not thanking you sooner — for everything you did to help me that night.” Y/N blurted, and to her relief, Rengoku froze mid-step, though he did not turn towards her. “I owe you my life.”

She did not miss the way Rengoku’s fists clenched at his side. “You owe me nothing. I would have done the same for any other comrade.” He replied, voice tight. “I must get going now. Farewell, Y/L/N.

She was so stunned that she’d not bidden him farewell back. Rather, she’d stood helplessly in her doorway, even long after the edge of his haori had disappeared around the corner of the Butterfly Mansion’s hall.

He had not looked at her once.

-------------------------------------------------------

(Kyojuro’s POV)

Kyojuro’s fists remained clenched the entire journey back to his estate.

He felt disgusted with himself. He felt like a coward.

It had nearly knocked him to his knees to see Y/L/N up and standing and talking because for so long, he had feared he would never again see the way she crinkled her nose when she laughed, or how she tucked that one loose strand of hair behind her ear whenever she was concentrating — the one that never stayed put in her braid.

But he had not been able to meet her eyes; couldn’t bear to bring himself to try, because he had been terrified of what he would see.

-------------------------------------------------------

Every night for the last two months, he has dreamed of her.

They were not pretty dreams, not like those he had before when he’d wrap her in his arms and kiss her until she laughed, the two of them living in a monster-free world and at peace.

Now, he dreamt of vacant eyes-tinged blue, unseeing and unblinking and frozen, just like the rest of her. He dreams of iced skin and blood and poison pouring from her mouth and her nose until she chokes, her chest rising once with a final rattle before it falls still.

He dreams of Upper Three, smiling deviously as he aims his fist to deal his final blow, and Kyojuro wrenches his blade down, desperate to finally win.

Only, his blade decapitates Y/N, not the Upper Rank demon and he is helpless to watch her head bounce pathetically to the ground. His hands are covered in her blood, and instead of disintegrating, her body falls uselessly to the side. Human.

As quickly as he kills her, the dream changes. He is in a lively street, filled to the brim with street vendors and women and men offering their services. It is night but the lights of the shops and gambling dens and pleasure houses are so bright that it looks like daytime.

He recognizes her by the back of her haori, and his feet move towards her, relieved to see her amidst the hustle and bustle of the city. He reaches out to touch her shoulder, her name whispering on his lips. But she turns before he can make contact, and though she looks healthy, her eyes — her eyes are white and unseeing.

I don’t understand, she pleads with him, it doesn’t make sense.

Kyojuro looks around in alarm and they are no longer standing amongst eager entertainment seekers, but among flame and wreckage, the once-ornately decorated stalls now smashed to splinters as fire slowly consumes the skeletal remains of the entertainment district.

He turns back to her right as a blade pierces through her gut, lifting her from the ground before letting her drop.

His hands shake as he reaches for her, desperate to check her wounds, but when she looks up at him, he stumbles back.

She is all wrong. Her skin is mottled and rotting from her face, and her hair is gray and matted. In place of her eyes are black holes, empty and cold.

Why can’t I come with you? Why can’t I go home, Kyojuro?

Please take me home.

Every night for the last two months, he awoke screaming.

------------------------------------------------------

Y/L/N was alive; he knew that. He knew that if he looked at her, he would not see a corpse; but terrifying visuals aside, Kyojuro had not been able to look at her because he knew what his nightmares were telling him.

He’d been responsible for her near death.

If the Kakushi had returned with a box rather than a Pillar, it would have been his fault.

The thought that Y/L/N — his Y/L/N -- had almost obtained her own headstone in the Master’s graveyard had rocked him to his very core, for that had almost become a reality. She had actually died – for the briefest moment – in his arms; and it had been his fault.

Why can't I go home, Kyojuro?

And though Y/N had awoken from her slumber, her corpse still haunted Kyojuro’s dreams.

--------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N’s POV)

Y/N was sprawled on her infirmary floor, preparing her limbs for another day of rigorous recuperation training at the hands of her fellow Hashira.

She stood to stretch her arms and lower back, wincing slightly at the pull of her scar. “Don’t you start,” she warned her body, willing total concentration breathing to dull the persistent ache that threatened to derail her entire day.

Y/N sensed movement near her doorway and knew, without looking, who watched her as she warmed up her aching muscles.

“Uzui retired. It’s time for you to do the same.”

Y/N who had been in mid-stretch, righted herself and blinked at the Flame Pillar. “Pardon?” Both the news of Uzui’s retirement and Rengoku’s words were a shock to her.

“Retire, Y/LN.” Rengoku repeated in that detached manner of his that she hardly recognized. “You helped take down an Upper Rank. You’ve done enough. Let someone else shoulder the burden, now.”

“I see no reason to retire, Rengoku.” Y/N retorted, voice hardening. “And unless and until the Master requests it or I perish, I see no reason to do so.”

Rengoku exhaled harshly through his nose. “You were injured — seriously so.”

“As were you, and yet you seem to have no intention of slowing down.” Y/N said, coolly.

Rengoku’s attention stayed fixed on the garden outside her window. “And I was only unconscious for three weeks. You were out for nearly two months, Y/L/N. That is unheard of and frankly, unacceptable for a Hashira.”

“What is your problem?” Y/N was growing more irritated the longer this inane conversation dragged on, and it wasn’t helping that Rengoku still refused to so much as look her direction, let alone meet her eyes. “Is this about what happened after you brought me here? Kocho told me everything — I’m not mad.”

Rengoku’s shoulders tensed. “It was necessary. Again, I would have done it for any one of my comrades.”

Y/N felt like she’d been slapped.

“You keep saying that, yet you won’t look at me— why?” Her confusion and hurt were beginning to melt into anger. “If I am just another comrade, then you should be able to meet my eyes.”

Rengoku said nothing.

“What Uzui did for me— that was what comrades do,” Y/N continued, her voice growing stronger as her blood grew hotter. “But you? You and I both know you were under no obligation to bring me back from the brink of death the way you did.”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say, Y/L/N,” Rengoku answered after a long moment.

Y/N took a step towards him. “I want to know why.”

“It was necessary.”

Y/N felt like throttling him.

How long had they danced around each other? How many times had they caught themselves staring at the other for a breath longer than normal, had allowed an otherwise friendly touch during a spar linger?

How could he have held her, half nude for hours, putting himself on the brink of death all for the sake of keeping her alive — and then tell her she was the same as any other comrade?

“What are we doing Rengoku -- is this to be our destiny?” Y/N demanded, exasperatedly, her voice hard. “We continue to pretend like we don’t care about one another until one of us dies?”

Rengoku remained silent, back still turned away from her.

“We’ve each had a near-death experience in a matter of months,” Y/N continued, throat working hard to keep her voice steady despite the telling burn of angry tears in her eyes. “By all accounts, one if not both of us should be dead.”

“And yet, somehow, you expect me to act as though the fact you carried me back here— that you put yourself on death’s door to keep my heart beating — doesn’t mean anything?”

It didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense for him to fight so hard for her, to make her believe that someone valued her life that much, only to cast her aside.

She hadn’t wanted to wake up, initially; she’d felt relief for the hair’s breadth she’d thought she’d finally met her end. He was the one who dragged her back, and now he wouldn’t even look at her.

It didn’t make sense.

Y/N’s fists shook beside her, and she felt the venomous words fly from her mouth before she could stop them.

“You should’ve let me die.”

No sooner had she let the poison drip from her mouth had she felt herself flying backward, back slamming against the nearest wall of her temporary room.

“Never,” Rengoku snarled at her, his arm pressing firmly against her shoulders to hold her in place against the wood. “Never say those words to me again.”

Y/N’s chest was heaving, and she trembled beneath him, her fury threatening to explode out of her.

“There is no place on this earth where you could be in peril and I would not find you,” he said quietly, his eyes a simmering, fiery orange. “Where I wouldn’t find a way to bring you back home.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Y/N said softly, breath still coming hard from her nose but no longer from her anger.

“Doesn’t it?” Rengoku was close, dangerously close.

Y/N wanted nothing more than to lean in, to close the distance that barely existed between Rengoku’s face and hers and finally be done with all the nonsense. But he had spent so much time avoiding her gaze until that moment, and Y/N felt more lost than ever, set adrift by the look of heat and longing that was mixed with the burning rage in his eyes.

Something tugged incessantly at her gut and it would not allow her to move from her place against her recovery room’s wall.

Instead, her arms came up to rest against Rengoku’s chest before gently, but firmly, pushing him away.

“No, it doesn’t.” She repeated. “And I am tired, Rengoku.”

The Flame Pillar allowed himself to be pushed away, but he looked at her with a small, cruel smile.

“Then you’re right; it doesn’t mean anything at all.”

She flinched against the ugly slap of his words. Y/N had expected him to hit back, but she hadn’t anticipated his venom to sting as much as it did.

She felt all of the fight within her gutter out, leaving her with nothing but a heavy weight in her chest that she wished she couldn’t feel.

“Y/L/N, I-“ the Flame Pillar almost sounded remorseful.

“Thank you, for your clarification, Lord Rengoku,” she said numbly, formally, parroting his earlier tone with her. “And thank you for your assistance that night. Please, next time — don’t trouble yourself.”

Rengoku hesitated for a moment, his hand twitching as though he wanted to reach for her. He swallowed hard, and turned away, shutting the door to Y/N’s infirmary.

The moment the door at clicked shut, Y/N exhaled harshly, stumbling back against her bed as she hugged her arms around herself, and she tried to keep herself from falling apart.

It shouldn’t have hurt this bad. They were both in the Demon Slayer Corps; they saved strangers all the time without it ever meaning anything other than good will and a desire to exterminate all demons.

So why did his insistence that she was no different hurt so badly?

Because she wasn’t a stranger.

Because, while she’d always known she wasn’t his, she’d still thought she’d been something.

As Y/N curled against her blanket, an unsettling numbness began to spread from her heart, quieting even the dull ache from the scar across her belly, Y/N realized that she’d meant nothing to the Flame Pillar all along.

-------------------------------------------------------

(Kyojuro’s POV)

He hated himself.

He utterly and truly despised himself.

He’d been hurt by her insistence that she did not know his feelings even though he was the one who’d opened the door, yet somehow, it still felt like a rejection.

So he’d hit back, only for her to visibly recoil at the sharp blow of his words.

He would not forgive himself, for as long as he lived, for the way the light in her eyes had winked out.

He did not know what bothered him more: the fact that she’d assumed that he regretted keeping her alive, or that she’d said “next time” he needn’t bother. As though she were counting on there being a next time.

He knew he should turn around; knew that he should barge back into her hospital room, drop to his knees, and beg her to forgive his cruelty.

He knew that he should explain to her why he found it so difficult to admit his feelings for her — that he had watched his father turn into a shell of a man and abandon his children in the wake of their mother’s death, leaving them to raise themselves. That he had vowed, as he’d watched his father drink his days away, that he would never be like him, would never abandon those who relied on him most.

He’d promised that he would never be a coward, even if, in all honesty, the idea that he, Kyojuro, could ever love someone that fiercely only to have them ripped from his grasp terrified him to no end.

As he forced his legs to carry him to back to his estate, Kyojuro wondered if perhaps, in his desperation not to turn into his father, he’d become the old man after all.

--------------------------------------------------------

(Shinobu’s POV)

Shinobu felt the Flame Pillar’s presence in her office before she saw him, though she was in no rush to give him his salve, especially not after what she’d overheard him spit at her friend.

“If you do not mind, I would like to send my crow to collect this from here on,” Rengoku said tightly, and Shinobu could sense his failing attempt to keep his fury in check.

“Very well then,” the Insect Pillar responded just as tersely, turning away from the papers and books on her desk to pull out the small tin containing the salve the Flame Pillar used to soothe the ache of the scar he now bore across his pectoral and shoulder. Rather than handing it to him, she tossed it through the air, the Flame Hashira catching it swiftly in his hand.

Rengoku nodded his thanks and turned to leave.

“I didn’t realize it was against Corps’ rules to care about our comrades,” Shinobu said icily, if not to signal to him that there had been spectators to his ugly outburst.

He couldn’t resist taking her bait. “Maybe it should be. It would be easier that way — for everyone.”

“Is that so?” Kocho sneered, no hint of familiarity or kindness in her features; nothing but that poisonous, deadly smile. “Well, if that was the case, then you would’ve preferred Uzui to leave Y/L/N for dead among the rubble in Yoshiwara, correct?

“You would rather us be searching to fill the newest Hashira vacancy, with her corpse barely cold in the ground-“

“Do not say another word, Kocho.” Rengoku warned, quietly.

But for Shinobu, anger was her vice, and so his warning only spurred her on.

“Tell me, Rengoku, if the new Pillar had been a woman, would you have held her the way you held Y/N?”

Shinobu’s smile was chilling as she relished the way the Flame Pillar began to tremble. “Or perhaps, would you finally confess to her, having learned your lesson from the missed opportunity with Y/N? Would you live out your days with her, while Y/N rotted below the earth, having never known someone loved her?”

“ENOUGH.” Rengoku roared, and for a moment, Shinobu thought the Flame Pillar might put his clenched fist through her wall. The silence that followed was tense and long as Rengoku struggled to calm his breathing.

“What do you want from me, Kocho?” Rengoku finally snapped, wheeling around to glower at the Insect Pillar, eyes half-crazed in his frustration.

------------------------------------------------------

(Two months earlier)

Dawn was still far off, but the hall of her estate was a mess.

Shinobu knew that at any moment, another group of Kakushi would be coming through the hole Rengoku had left in her wall bearing the unconscious body of the Sound Pillar, and if they did so, they’d be stumbling upon the chaotic scene that had unfolded before.

Rengoku was still on the floor, legs on either side of Y/N, who was slumped against his chest and fully exposed from the waist up.

With some satisfaction, Shinobu noted that the dark purple bruising around Y/N’s chest was clearing, a sure sign that she had chosen the correct antidote for the Flame Hashira to slam into her heart.

But her hypothermia persisted.

Rengoku, on the other hand, was beginning to breathe rather loudly, no doubt as he continued to maintain his high fever for the sake of the unmoving woman braced between his thighs.

“Rengoku,” Shinobu crouched down next to the Flame Pillar, her hand coming to a rest on his shoulder, which burned beneath her palm. “Rengoku, we need to move.”

The man lifted his head up to meet her eyes, his own glassy and unfocused. Shinobu clamped down on the swear building on her tongue — he had fever fog.

Rengoku grunted at her before his head slumped back down, chin nearly touching his chest.

Shinobu tried again. “Rengoku, we are in the open hallway of the Butterfly Mansion. Others will be arriving soon. Y/N is completed exposed.”

That seemed to get his attention. Rengoku’s head lifted, his eyes narrowed slits, but nonetheless open. He grunted in some sort of acknowledgement and began to shift Y/N in his lap.

He turned the unconscious Ice Pillar so that her back rested against one arm that curled around her bare waist. His free arm slid to grip beneath her knees, shifting her into a bridal-style position to carry her.

Two of the Butterfly Mansion’s staff moved to help him stand, but Rengoku shrugged them off, surprising Shinobu as he managed to rise steadily to his feet, Y/N secured against his chest.

He looked at Shinobu expectantly and she began ushering him towards a secluded wing of the Manor, towards her private hall. Across from her personal office was a special infirmary room, walled off from the rest of the recovery ward.

Shinobu withdrew a ring of keys from her pocket and unlocked the heavy, wooden door.

“You two can stay in here until her body temperature returns to normal,” She said, as Rengoku made his way towards the recovery bed.

Shinobu watched as Rengoku, still wearing his zori and uniform pants, ever so gently lowered himself and Y/N down on the bed, repeating his earlier positioning of her between his thighs. He propped up one leg slightly to keep the Ice Pillar from slumping over, her back pressed to his bare chest. Rengoku leaned against the headboard so that Y/N’s head could rest against his clavicle, though it slumped instead towards her left shoulder.

Shinobu made to grab a blanket to throw over the two topless Hashira but stopped short as Rengoku made to move again.

He seemed to realize that Y/N, while also still in her torn uniform pants and zori, was still bare from the waist up, her body positioned towards the door. He frowned, his hand coming up to graze the side of her arm. He flinched slightly, no doubt at the persistent chill that lingered on her skin, and he moved both of his large hands down over the back of hers as they lay limply on either side of her thighs, intertwining their fingers.

Awestruck, Shinobu watched as Rengoku brought Y/N’s arms up to cross them over her chest, locking them in place by covering her arms with his own, as though wrapping her in a sweet embrace. Shinobu knew that he’d done so to avoid touching her bare breasts himself, or at least to do so as minimally as possible, while still providing her cover. And, due to the breadth of Rengoku’s muscled forearms, Y/N’s sensitive area was almost entirely obscured from view.

Rengoku had barely been clinging to consciousness himself, and once she was sufficiently hidden in his arms, his head dropped forward until his forehead came to a rest on Y/N’s shoulder, opposite of where she’d rolled her head.

To the unassuming eye, it would have appeared as though the pair of Hashira were simply engaged in an intimate moment, rather than one desperately trying to anchor the other to life.

Shinobu moved to place the blanket over the Pillars’ laps, before quietly exiting the private room.

“Seal this wing off entirely,” she murmured to Aoi, who had been waiting dutifully outside. “No one comes down here without my explicit permission.”

Aoi bowed to her before she ushered the other Kakushi out. Faintly, Shinobu heard the arriving shouts of the group bearing the Sound Pillar. She took a single deep breath, steeling herself once more, before moving to check on her incoming patient.

-------------------------------------------------------

Shinobu raised her chin, looking down her nose at him in disgust. “I’m waiting for the man who would have set the world ablaze to save Y/N to reappear.”

She cocked her head, narrowing her eyes at him. “I’m waiting for the man who used his own body as her lifeline, and who tried to smash open the infirmary door when he was delirious with fever because he thought that she had died while he was asleep.”

The Insect Pillar’s masked smile finally slipped from her face and her true rage towards the Flame Pillar shone through. “It is cruel to make her feel as though she’s done something wrong,” Shinobu’s arms folded across her chest. “And it is cruel to you both for you to pretend as though she does not mean anything to you. Haven’t you both been through enough? Are you not exhausted as well?”

A tortured look passed over Rengoku’s face. “It is better this way, Kocho. I do not want to be the cause of her pain, and I cannot survive going through what happened to her again.

“For all your talk about either of you dying, I’ve yet to hear you mention the equal alternative,” Shinobu sighed, gathering her papers and books. “The one where we win and you both live. What do you suppose happens then?”

Rengoku said nothing and so, Shinobu continued. “Suppose we emerge victorious – would you truly prefer for you and Y/N to go your separate ways – to never see one another again, or never acknowledge the bond the two of you share?”

“There is no guarantee that either of us survives, Kocho,” Rengoku said quietly, his eyes falling to his feet.

Shinobu smiled but it was no longer cruel or bitter; it was wistful. “And there is no guarantee that either of you die. That’s the fickle nature of humanity, is it not? The very reason we fight?”

The Insect Pillar gathered her papers and stacked them neatly on her shelf. “For the possibilities of it all.”

--------------------------------------------------------

The sun was high in the sky by the time Shinobu had a moment to check on the two unconscious pillars in the back room.

Uzui had required quite a bit of attention in order to stop the poison from becoming deadly, though the fact that her combination of the wisteria antidote with the amphetamine had been so effective on Y/N meant that Shinobu was able to administer the same to the Sound Pillar in half the time.

She was exhausted; the strain of the night’s events weighed heavily on her, but she had to check on Y/N’s temperature — if the Ice Pillar still had not recovered, she feared that hope was lost.

She pushed the door to the private infirmary room open and saw the two Hashira, still in the same position she’d left them in. Rengoku was deeply asleep, no doubt from the exhaustion wrought by his high fever.

Enclosed within his arms, Y/N remained unconscious but pink.

Shinobu felt the relief course through her, but she did not allow herself to relax until she reached out a hand to lightly pinch the Ice Pillar’s cheek.

It bloomed red beneath her fingers, and it was warm to the touch.

He’d done it. The Flame Pillar had staved off her hypothermia. Their only obstacle now lay in getting her to reawaken.

Shinobu laid her hand across Rengoku’s forehead, frowning at the scorching heat of his brow; his fever had worsened more than she’d anticipated, and he would need intervention soon. She turned to nod at the Kakushi who waited by the door to the recovery room, and the three of them moved to separate the Flame and Ice Pillars.

“Put him in one of the other single-recovery rooms. Tell Aoi to administer the fever medication I keep in my cabinet – it should dispel his fever within a few hours.” Shinobu ordered, as the Kakushi, with great effort, lifted the Flame Pillar from his position behind Y/N. Shinobu gently eased her friend down against the bed and pulled a blanket over her exposed torso. “I will also need a fresh hospital gown for Lady Y/L/N.”

The Kakushi nodded their assent and got to work, heaving the unconscious Flame Pillar towards the door when he awoke. At first, his eyes were dazed, and confused as they darted around him, but as he took in his surroundings, he began to struggle against the grip of the Kakushi.

“Please, Lord Rengoku, your fever is dangerously high! Allow us to help!” One of them cried, though his efforts to tug the Pillar away were futile. Shinobu supposed the only reason he had not yet succeeded in completely throwing them off was the fact that his fever had severely weakened him.

“Rengoku,” Shinobu said sternly, coming around from her position by Y/N to meet his eyes, though he only thrashed harder against the Kakushi as he began to mutter incoherently under his breath. “Rengoku, that’s enough. You’re safe. You’re in the Butterfly Mansion, and you have a high fever. Please, let the Kakushi do their job.”

But the Insect Pillar’s words fell on deaf ears as Rengoku began to hyperventilate, his muscles straining as he tried desperately to break free from the Kakushi’s hold. Shinobu was at a loss; her comrade did not merely look frantic – he looked terrified, desperate, and utterly beyond reproach or reason. His heart rate had spiked considerably, and his breath was jerky and uneven, as though he could not fully understand where he was or that he was amongst friends.

As she strained to make out what the Flame Pillar repeated, over and over, under his breath, Shinobu realized that his eyes were not unfocused at all; they were locked on the unconscious Ice Pillar in the bed behind her.

“I can still save her!” he roared.

It all made sense then.

Shinobu realized that he thought they were moving him not because he’d successfully thwarted her hypothermia, but because he had failed — and that she was now dead.

“Rengoku,” Shinobu said sharply, trying to force the irate and delirious Flame Pillar to meet her eyes. “Rengoku, Y/N is alive. Her body temperature has returned to normal. She is safe.”

But the Flame Pillar seemed not to hear her, as he only struggled harder against the Kakushi desperately trying to usher him out of Y/N’s room.

Rengoku was becoming more violent, even as the Kakushi finally managed to shove him through the doorway of Y/N’s room. Just before they’d managed to slam the door shut, Shinobu caught Aoi’s eye and nodded, the younger girl quickly disappeared into the Pillar’s office.

Shinobu watched in stunned silence as the Flame Pillar broke free from the Kakushi and began hurtling his body against the door, Y/N’s name falling from his lips in an anguished chant.

Rengoku was so delirious in his fevered panic that he did not notice Aoi slip behind him and plunge a syringe into his neck, depositing a thick stream of the clear liquid that Shinobu knew would have a near-instantaneous effect on his consciousness.

The Insect Pillar felt a strange sense of pity and remorse as she watched her friend slump to the floor outside of the infirmary room, a final cry out for the Ice Pillar falling from his lips before the sedative lulled him back to sleep.

-------------------------------------------------------

(Kyojuro’s POV – three days later)

He didn’t know why he’d returned to the Butterfly Mansion.

Kyojuro tried to convince himself that it was because he didn’t want to wait for his crow to return with Kocho’s salve, but he knew it was a pathetic excuse. He’d sworn to himself that he would leave Y/L/N alone after their last argument. He’d vowed that the door between them had been closed for good, and they would only ever be colleagues. Nothing more.

But he couldn’t stay away. Perhaps it was because he’d spent the last few days stewing over their last argument, and somewhere, amidst his endless supply of self-hatred, he’d also grown angry with the Ice Pillar.

Angry, because she had put herself in harm’s way when he’d specifically told her not to.

Angry because she’d nearly died, and she’d threatened to take the last vestiges of his sanity with her to the afterlife.

Angry that she insisted on remaining in the Demon Slayer Corps despite having given more than enough of herself to their cause; angry that she didn’t understand why he couldn’t yet do the same.

Angry because she didn’t seem to understand his feelings at all.

Perhaps in another life, they could have had each other. Had they both been born into a world without demons, then maybe they would have still found each other and maybe, just maybe, he would have been able to love her the way she deserved.

But for Kyojuro, their relationship would always be defined by a series of maybes, and nothing more.

--------------------------------------------------------

It would have been a lie for Kyojuro to say he’d not been struck dumb by her.

She was stretched out on the steps of Kocho’s engawa, legs dangling off the edge of the porch as she leaned back on her elbows, eyes closed dreamily as she kept her face tilted up towards the cooling night air.

Long, lean, bare legs, he realized, an uncomfortable heat creeping up his collar. He couldn’t help running his eyes up their length, fixating hard on the supple curves of her thighs.

Why were her legs bare?

She looked…so unguarded this way. Her haori was draped around her shoulders, one of its sleeves hanging loosely to the side and exposing her bare shoulder – how exposed was she, the idiot – and her hair was completely unbound, falling in a silken river to her waist.

It was a stark contrast to the braided crown she wore at the base of her neck. It hit him that, not counting the night she’d nearly died, he had not otherwise seen her with her hair down.

He liked it. A lot.

“I finally rid myself of one migraine only for another to appear,” Y/N’s lofty voice snapped him out of his reverence, as the Ice Pillar opened her eyes to glare at him. 

“If you’ve come for Shinobu, she is not here. She’s on an errand and will not be back until early morning.” Y/N turned her attention away from him and back towards the garden, her voice stony.

At that moment, there were a million things Kyojuro could have said to the Ice Pillar.  

How are you?

I missed the way you glare at me.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

Any of those options would have been far better than what came tumbling out of his mouth.

“I hadn’t realized you were indecent. My apologies.”

Y/N’s head snapped back to him, her eyes chips of ice. “Indecent?” She rose from her seat on the engawa and faced him fully, and Rengoku nearly groaned.

Indecent, indeed.

Y/N was showing more skin than Kanroji did on a regular day. As she stood, Rengoku saw that she was hardly wearing any clothing at all, save for the haori draped loosely around her frame.

The Ice Pillar wore no top but the bindings around her chest, leaving a sizeable swath of her midriff exposed to the summer air. Whatever she wore as bottoms could hardly be labeled as “pants,” given that their hem ended just short of the middle of her thigh, leaving the vast majority of her legs exposed to anyone who would happen to walk by.  

The Flame Pillar felt as though he were overheating, and he tugged uselessly at the collar of his uniform shirt. As he looked over the scowling Ice Pillar, Rengoku found himself unable to remember why he had come to the Mansion at all.  

------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N’s POV)

(Earlier that day)

“Ta-da!” Mitsuri sang as she pulled the small bundle from behind her, a grin wide on her face. “A gift from Shinobu and myself!”

Y/N peered down quizzically at the small, folded bunch of cloth in the Love Pillar’s hands. “What is it?”

“A new take on the Corps’ uniform,” Shinobu replied crisply, sitting down on the tatami floor of her office. “I designed it myself, and Mitsuri sewed it.”

“But what is it?” Y/N pressed.

Mitsuri joined Shinobu on the floor. “Your new training pants. Altered, so that you have more flexibility and less irritation against your wound.”

Y/N held up the tiny scrap of fabric between her index finger and thumb. “Are you telling me these are pants?”

Mitsuri and Shinobu nodded, smiling.

Y/N looked incredulously at the two women. “But where are the pants?”

Mitsuri laughed. “Think of it as a cross between the uniform skirt and pants, but more modified.”

Shinobu nodded. “I used the same material that our uniform is made out of but designed it in a way to be more flexible – it will mold to your body rather than require you to use a belt to keep it up.” Y/N unfurled the cloth and gaped down at it. “They likely aren’t suitable for public, but around here and during your training, they should be perfectly adequate.”

“Perfectly adequate?” Y/N repeated, turning the garment over in her hands. “Shinobu, these are underclothes! Not pants!” The Ice Pillar could not stop herself from giggling. “My legs will be entirely exposed!”

“Try them on!” Mitsuri urged. “Shinobu and I estimated they would hit around mid-thigh, so you’ll still have some coverage.” Mitsuri looked down at her own skirt in consideration. “Slightly more so than I do.”

Y/N groaned but removed her uniform pants and slid into her friends’ gift. She was surprised at how comfortable they felt; they had a similar feel to the chest bindings most of the women in the Corps wore, in terms of fit. The black bottoms had no true waistband, but fit snuggly at the dip of her waist, before hugging her hips and thighs until the hem cut right above the middle of her thigh.

“How do they feel?” Shinobu asked as Y/N inspected the new garment.

Y/N turned from side to side, testing their flexibility. “Good. They don’t seem to rub against the scar at all.” Y/N smiled devilishly at her friends. “Even if they do leave little to the imagination.”

MItsuri giggled. “I hadn’t noticed Y/N, but you have – oh, what did Uzui call it?” She scrunched her eyebrows in thought. “Oh! An ‘easy and deliverable type of butt!’” The three girls laughed, carefree as Y/N wiggled her hips suggestively in front of her friends, her heart warm at the care and consideration they had put into their gift.

------------------------------------------------------

Y/N mused that Mitsuri’s assessment of how she looked in the undershorts had been correct as Rengoku’s eyes raked over her as she stood tall before him, an unmistakable glint of hunger glowing in his amber pools.

Until they snagged on the thick, curved gash that extended from the band of her bottoms to just over her belly button.

In an instant, simmering fire of the Flame Pillar’s gaze had been snuffed out, something harder and colder taking over as he glared at where Upper Moon Six had buried his poisoned sickle within her.

Under any other circumstance, Y/N might have felt self-conscious at the mixture of frigid contempt that pulled on Rengoku’s face as he ran his eyes over her scar, but at that moment, it only made her blood boil.

“You should return to your room. You shouldn’t be out here exposed like this.” Rengoku said after a moment, his eyes moving away from her to stare over her shoulder, resolutely avoiding her gaze.

Y/N wondered briefly if it were possible to make someone combust with the fire of their stare. She was so tired and so angry at the way in which he demanded she stay at arm’s length yet felt utterly entitled to boss her around.

She decided then that she would not comply. Instead, Y/N took one step and then another, and again until she pushed past him, marching intently up the path she knew led away from the Butterfly Estate and to a secluded, grassy, hilled clifftop.

“Stop — Y/L/N” Rengoku growled, lunging after her, but Y/N, despite her injured state, was still faster than he, and she twisted out of his grasp before he could grab her and haul her back to the Mansion.

She probably looked insane, and maybe she was -- barely dressed, hair unbound, and striding towards that grassy hill up the winding path from Shinobu’s estate like she had any idea what she was doing.

The Flame Pillar followed.

—————————————————————--------

Apart from her close friendship with the Insect Pillar, there was another reason Y/N spent so much time in and around the Butterfly Mansion — its view.

Though she supposed this secret area she’d discovered couldn’t really be counted as part of Shinobu’s Estate — it was, after all, up a rather steep and twisting climb from the western-most point of her friend’s manor, and one could scarcely see the lights of the house once they ascended the small cliff.

Her thighs ached after nearly two months of disuse as she stormed up the steep incline, narrowly avoiding the sharp, twisting branches of the ancient trees that had concaved over the beaten path, forming a tunnel of gnarled wood that forced her to duck her head to navigate.

Y/N’s chest tightened as she neared the end of the path, the steady beat of the Flame Pillar’s footsteps trailing closely behind her.

When she finally emerged from the thicket of branches, she felt as though she could breathe again.

The path had given way to a cliff-top clearing. Soft, emerald grass covered the earthen floor, peppered with various wildflowers in vibrant hues of periwinkle, white, and pink. Towards the center was a thick, ancient oak tree, with a trunk as wide as a small hut, Its leaves ruffled lazily in the slight summer breeze. Fat hotaru floated idly above the grass while the crickets hummed.

The clearing extended to a point before dropping into a rocky cliff. Had it been a night of a new moon, Y/N would never risk coming out here for fear of stumbling too close to the cliff’s edge. But that night, the moon was full and its silver light was so bright that Y/N could see all the way to the opposite of the clearing, down to the summer irises swaying in the warm night air.

It was a pity that instead of feeling the warm serenity she normally had when she came out to her little hideaway, she felt nothing but boiling anger and a growing headache.

“You need to go back inside,” Rengoku said from behind her. Y/N ground her teeth, turning sharply on her heel to face him.

“Why do you care — I thought you only did that when I’m unconscious.” She bit back, and it felt good to see him be the one who flinched for once. “Or maybe it’s when you think I’m dying?”

She laughed, derisively. “You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve long since forgotten the rules of your game. You change them so often, you see.”

“Go back to the Butterfly Mansion, Y/L/N. You shouldn’t be out here. Not in your current state.” He said, voice as hard and unforgiving as stone.

“I’ve told you already that you are not in a position to order me around!” Y/N snapped, her words and her eyes chips of ice as she glared at him.

He was so infuriating — he had told her, in so many ways, that she meant nothing to him, and yet here he was, glowering at her as though her very existence incensed him.

“You’ve been nothing but unkind to me since I awoke, and you’ve given me no explanation!” She took a step towards him.

“Stop,” the Flame Pillar bit out, barely concealing the way he trembled with rage. “Do not take another step. Turn around and go back inside.”

If Y/N had looked pissed before, she looked downright furious now.

“Why did you come to see me while I was unconscious?” Y/N demanded, shaking. “You came every day, yet the second I wake up, you stop?”

His refusal to answer her, to even look at her, only made her seethe.

“You’re a coward, Rengoku.”

Rengoku’s teeth gnashed together, his fists balling tightly by his sides as he drew upon every ounce last shred of sanity, of restraint, left within him.

“Go. In. Side.” He ground out dangerously, his voice dropping into a growl on the last syllable.

But the Ice Pillar took another step towards him, her eyes blazing with a fire that could outburn his own.

“No.”

Rengoku’s jaw flexed. “Y/L/N-“

“I said no, Rengoku.” She was now within arm’s reach of the rigid Flame Pillar.

His eyes met hers, cold and hard, but she did not balk. She went in for the kill. “You have no say over my choices when my life is meaningless to you.”

Y/N watched the blow land, and land hard.

“Meaningless?” Rengoku looked at her and there was a new fire in his gaze, a hot, angry fire that threatened to burn the grassy overlook around them to cinders. “You believe I think your life is meaningless?”

This time, it was Rengoku who advanced towards her, bringing her within an arm’s length, and forcing her to tilt her head up to hold his raging stare.

“Do you have any idea — any at all — what it was like to see you, half dead in Uzui’s arms?” Rengoku’s voice dark, and harsh as he narrowed his eyes at her. “Or what it was like to have to carry you to Kocho, not knowing whether your heart would give out before I could get you there?”

Y/N refused to cower beneath the intensity of his gaze, her chin lifting defiantly. “Do I know what it was like?” She hissed; hackles raised.

“Thank you Rengoku, truly — thank you.” Y/N laughed, but it was devoid of any humor. “I am so glad that you’ve finally given me something to work with — so those are your rules, are they?”  She was toe to toe with the Flame Hashira, glowering down at her.

“Well since we’re keeping score, Rengoku, do you know what it was like to see you broken and bleeding out on Kocho’s table after the incident on the train?”

“That’s not the same thing,” Rengoku shot back bitterly.

“How the fuck is it not-?”

“Because it wasn’t your mission to take!” Rengoku finally broke, his voice rising to a shout. He could not stop himself as his hands shot out and gripped Y/N’s shoulders, shaking her lightly in his torment.

“You have no idea how it felt to know that you had died — no matter how briefly — because you went on a mission in my place!”

“To know that — that you could still die because I had been too weak on that fucking train. Your death would have been my fault, Y/N!”

----------------------------------------------------

(Kyojuro’s POV)

And there it was: the truth that he had tried so hard to suppress, laid flat out in the open.

Everything that had happened to Y/N, the whole entire mess — had been entirely his fault.

His fault because he had been too weak to finish off Upper Moon Three, too weak to do anything but let the demon’s punch a hole through his chest like it was nothing.

Y/L/N and Uzui had saved themselves in the end; they’d completed their mission, defeating not just one, but two upper ranks. They hadn’t succumbed to their injuries until after they’d fulfilled their duties.

But him? He’d only been saved by the grace of the sun and the tireless efforts of the Kakushi.

He’d nearly lost his life and he had nothing to show for it. Rather than do anything to further the Corp’s ultimate goals, he’d only set them back, and nearly cost them something priceless in return — their Ice Pillar.

The woman he loved.

He had no right to love her, of course — not when his reprehensible weakness had forced her to be offered up to two upper moon demons on a silver platter.

She’d been there, the morning he awoke from his three-week-long coma. She’d been right by his bedside, a sob choking from her throat as she’d called for Kocho to come quick!

At first, he’d been confused, because he hadn’t understood why she was crying. He’d tried to reach for her, to wipe the tears spilling down her cheeks when the pain had slammed into him, causing him to seize, arm suspended in mid-air.

Never before had he not been in control of his body; it had sent him into a panic.

“No, Kyojuro, please don’t move!” Y/N had cried, calling him, for the first time, by his given name. a warm hand wrapping around the one he’d stretched out towards her, lowering it gently down to the bed. “Your injuries are too grave!”

He didn’t remember much after that, only what Kocho had filled him in on later — namely, that he’d begun to panic, his breathing flaring out of control as he’d tried to fight off Y/L/N, a Kakushi, and the Insect Pillar.

His recovery had been long and slow. His wounds from the Upper Three demon had resulted in significant muscle damage that had required weeks of intensive care and training in order to build it back up again.

Those long days spent at the Butterfly Mansion had given him time to stew; to rage against himself. He’d been frustrated, so unbelievably frustrated over his inability to swing his own sword for more than five minutes that he almost considered giving in and retiring.

And then Uzui arrived, and he’d mentioned an upcoming mission to the Entertainment District, that they had discussed prior to Kyojuro leaving for the damned train, and the Sound Pillar revealed that his intel suggested the possible presence of an Upper Rank.

Kyojuro had promised to accompany him, and then he’d woken up in Kocho’s hospital, and that mission had been taken off the table and given to her.

The panic he had felt had been indescribable; he had narrowly survived an encounter with an Upper Rank, but then he was forced to watch the woman he loved walk straight into the wolf's den, and he had been incapable of convincing her to stay behind.

While she had been gone, he had railed against and prayed to and cursed at the gods, begging them to bring her home, to let her come back to him alive and whole.

Instead, they’d sent her back as a near-corpse and had laughed at his pitiful attempts to save her.

And then, she had straddled that narrow divide between life and death for nearly two months, and he had been as helpless as a cat chasing a string — his desire forever in sight yet somehow always just beyond his reach.

After his brush with death, he’d made a commitment to himself not to think of his battle with the Upper Three demon, to not waste his skill and energy on the past, but rather focus his fury on ensuring that when they did meet again, he would emerge victorious. He’d certainly not given any thought to the demon’s slime-tongued words.

He’d been disgusted when the demon had propositioned turning him into its like — and outright offended that those creatures could ever compare to the beautiful transience of humanity.

But then he’d cradled Y/N, broken and dying in his arms, and for the first time, Kyojuro had understood the appeal of the Upper Three’s offer.

Because he would rather have lived in a world in which Y/N had been turned into his enemy than in one in which she did not exist at all.

The very thought had shaken him to his core; because it meant he was not fully dedicated to their cause. He had no right to call himself a Hashira; nor did he have any right to claim to love Y/L/N. Not when he’d so easily damn her out of his own selfishness. So he had run.

A coward, after all.

--------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N’s POV)

Y/N was panting, her fury rippling off her in near-tangible waves.

“So, this whole thing,” she seethed, her voice shaking. “Your whole fucking attitude — has been because you’ve had your head so far up your ass, that you thought my injuries were your fault?”

It was unbelievable. It was ridiculous. And yet it was so Rengoku that it made her ears ring, made her see red as she tried to keep herself from imploding.

Rengoku said nothing, but she could see the way his eyes shuttered closed, his walls flying back up as he remained intent on keeping her out. He turned and began walking back towards the path back to the Estates.

“I was right — you ARE a coward!” She shrieked after him.

He froze. She stood there, heaving, daring him to turn around, to face her.

“Do not call me a coward again,” he said quietly, his back still to her, but his shoulders tensed, his fists balling once more at his sides.

Y/N smiled ruefully. “Then exactly what would you call what you’re doing now?.” Her lip curled into a sneer. “Run away, Rengoku. It’s what you do best.”

A flash of orange and white clouded her vision as Rengoku turned on his heel and closed the distance between them before she could draw another breath.

Y/N did not have time to react before his hands gripped either side of her jaw as he slammed his mouth down against hers, furious and heated.

It was not gentle; it was an angry clash of lips and teeth, but it also stoked a fire so hot in Y/N’s belly that she did not care, and she fully gave herself over to the bruising press of his lips against hers. She gladly opened up to him so that his tongue could slide into her mouth as one of his hands snaked behind her head to press her harder to him, demanding that she let him take and take until he was sated.

As quickly as it had begun, it was over. They broke apart with a gasp, leaping back from one another as though burned. Their chests heaved as they stared at one another.

There was a line drawn in the sand between them. If either of them crossed it, there would be no going back.

He was a coward, but she wasn’t. And she’d grown tired of this tedious dance of theirs.

Yet it surprised her all the same that he reached for her at the same time she moved for him, the two of them colliding like magnets as their mouths clashed together once more.

Rengoku kissed her like he was drowning, and she was his lifeline.

Y/N threw her arms around his neck and tugged him down closer to her, determined to take from him as much as he wanted to take from her.

The pair of them stumbled back against the ancient oak tree that sat back from the grassy cliff, Y/N caged against its bark by the Flame Pillar.

His hands gripped fistfuls of her haori as though he couldn’t decide whether to pull her closer or tug her away. His lips devoured each breathy moan he pulled from her as one hand tangled in her hair and pulled, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

She ran her hands through the fiery strands of his hair, gripping and tugging it as he explored her mouth was his demanding tongue. Y/N, emboldened by the way his fingers dug into her haori, let her hands roam from his hair and to his neck, and then to the rocky planes of his broad chest before settling on his hips as she tugged him flush against her. 

His control was slipping, and fast. “Y/L/N, I can’t- I won’t be able to hold back.” Rengoku moaned into her mouth, his hands scrunching the fabric of her haori, his fingers desperately seeking to hold her closer to him. “Tell me to stop, Y/L/N.”

Y/N’s hands only buried deeper into his hair, tugging him harder against her as she slid her tongue into his waiting mouth.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered against his mouth between breaks for oxygen. “Never stop, Rengoku.”

Y/N pulled back from him, just enough to unlatch his hands from where they were buried in the back of her haori, and moved them inside its folds, right on her bare waist.

The burning weight of his hands felt exquisite.

Rengoku shuddered as he felt the smooth, soft dips of Y/N’s waist, his fingers digging into her flesh as he sought to touch more of her, his hands running across every inch that was not covered by her bindings or those glorious undershorts.

Lips still moving furiously against hers, Rengoku bent slightly to run his hands down the silken expanse of her thighs, gripping under her knees before hoisting her up to carry her away from the tree and lay her down in the velvety grass below.

Y/N felt as though she were on fire. The ache between her legs was almost maddening, and she was desperate to have the Flame Pillar sheathe himself inside her, to make her forget even her own name.

If she could not have his love, she could at least have this.

Her hands dragged down Rengoku’s front, coming to a rest at his belt before she began fumbling with the clasp. Y/N had just managed to undo it when Rengoku’s hands — large, warm, and much stronger than her own, wrapped around her wrists, stilling her.

“Not yet, you impatient woman,” he smirked against her mouth. He moved one wrist to join the other in his left hand before bringing her arms up over her head, pinning her to the ground.

Y/N whimpered and rolled her hips against his, impatient and demanding, wanting desperately to feel some relief as her core clenched wildly around nothing.

Rengoku chuckled darkly, the rich timbre of his voice causing her blood to nearly boil with her want, as he made his way down her body with his lips.

He first came to her chest bindings, growling in impatience as he nipped at one breast over the tightly wound fabric.

His fingers brushed against her sternum as he ripped her bindings straight down the middle, Y/N shuddering as the warm summer night’s air caressed her sensitive skin, her nipples pebbling at the change in temperature.

She waited for him to lavish her soft mounds, but the Flame Pillar paused, eyes narrowed on the valley between her breasts, right on the pale, lilac mark where he’d plunged Shinobu’s antidote into her heart.

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat. He’d reacted poorly to the ribboned scar on her lower belly already, and now her once chance to finally have Rengoku in the way she’d so desperately longed to have him was about to be ruined.

But instead of pulling away from her in disgust, he leaned forward and pressed his lips softly against it the healed wound.

“I hadn’t realized I wounded you,” he murmured softly, reverently as he kissed it again. Y/N watched in bewilderment as he pressed his ear against her chest, letting his head rest there for a moment.

Listening to her heart hammer against her sternum.

“The sweetest music,” he whispered, pulling away to look at her not with lust but with unbounded tenderness.

Don’t look at me like that, she silently begged, don’t give me hope.

But as quickly as the moment had come, it passed and the esurient flame in Rengoku’s eyes flickered back to life. His lips continued down her abdomen, hot and needy until he reached the source of her near-fatal injury.

His mouth paused at the scar left by Upper Moon Six, the one he’d so callously glared at not even an hour before. This time, he ran his tongue along it, from the top to its base near her hipbone, pressing a fierce kiss against its end before continuing his descent.

“I will either have to thank my old Tsugoku the next time I see her,” Rengoku whispered darkly as he pulled at the soft waistband of Y/N’s undershorts with his teeth. “Or I shall have to burn her sewing room to cinders.” Rengoku’s fingers slid beneath the short hem of her bottoms, pulling them down inch by inch to expose her sensitive flesh.

Rengoku groaned when he saw Y/N was not wearing anything else beneath her scandalous bottoms. “Definitely burning.” His hands, so large and warm ran up the outer curve of her thighs, marveling at the silky smoothness of her skin. “Because you are far too tempting when wearing them.”

The Flame Pillar looked wild as he leaned forward, pressing his lips against the lower indent between Y/N’s hipbones as he kissed his way down to where she ached the most.

He ducked around the center of her desire in favor of sucking softly on her inner thigh. Y/N’s chest heaved as her hands flailed next to her, desperately seeking purchase, until the Flame Hashira caught them in his hands, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on her palms as their fingers interlaced.

“Rengoku - just fuck me already,” Y/N groaned as the Flame Pillar’s face settled between her thighs, his hot breath against her bare cunt causing her legs to attempt to clench shut.

“Well now, that won’t do,” Rengoku tutted, his hands withdrawing from hers as he wound his arms underneath both of her thighs, spreading them as wide as he could to expose her core to his heady gaze.

Rengoku leaned forward and lightly traced up her damp slit with the tip of his tongue. His amber irises which had been locked on hers, rolled back into his head as he groaned at her taste.

“I’m going to take my time with you. I’ve been dreaming of this for a long time, Y/N.” He warned, hands tightening around her thighs as he pressed a light kiss against her slit, teasing her.

In the back of her mind, Y/N registered that he’d used her first name. But the graze of his lips against her most sensitive flesh had her crying out his name, high-pitched and breathy, and she watched helplessly as the sound made Rengoku’s eyes turn black.

In an instant, he was upon her, and he was ravenous.

His mouth latched to her center as though she was an oasis in the middle of a blazing desert, and he was a man dying of thirst.

The way Rengoku’s teeth grazed her sensitive nub made her abdomen clench, and she fought against his ironclad grip on her thighs as they spasmed, desperate to clench around his head.

Y/N moaned, head thrown back into the soft summer grass as she felt herself grow wetter and wetter beneath the Flame Pillar, her hands desperately tugging and pinching at her breasts in an effort to feel more pleasure.

Y/N felt as though she was hurtling towards a cliff that she could not stop herself from tumbling over as Rengoku increased the intensity of his ministrations against her needy cunt.

“You taste,” he ground out through harsh drags of his tongue up her drenched folds, “like fucking paradise.”

His mouth latched around her clit, giving it a sharp suck that had Y/N seeing stars. She barely had time to recover, to acknowledge that she was at her tipping point when Rengoku thrust his tongue into her core and began to fuck her.

Y/N came apart the moment she felt his tongue enter her, a rush of her juices spilling over his relentless maw, but he held her hips down and continued his feast. His teeth grazed her clit over and over while his tongue pumped steadily in and out of her, and Y/N was close to sobbing at the overstimulation.

The Flame Pillar kept his eyes locked on hers the entire time, the amber orbs glowing almost ominously in the indigo night.

“I- fuck.” Y/N breathed, grinding unrestrainedly against the blonde’s greedy mouth. “Rengoku!”

The Ice Pillar tried to sit up, tried to grab her comrade’s hair to tell him that she couldn’t take it anymore, that she needed him, but Rengoku was faster. Unfurling a steely arm from where it had been locked around her thigh to hold her open to him, he reached up her torso, his large hand splaying across her upper abdomen to restrain her.

“Sit down,” he growled between thrusts of his tongue into her aching cunt, nipping harshly at her inner thigh. “I am not finished.”

Y/N whimpered beneath the weight of his hand holding her down against the earth and the nearly painful ecstasy that Rengoku bestowed upon her between her legs.

Whether it was in praise for her obedience or a further act of torture, Rengoku then pressed his face flush against her core and rocked it harshly from side to side, his nose and the burgeoning stubble along his jaw scraping against her overstimulated and sensitive flesh.

Y/N slapped her hand against her mouth to stifle the howl that tore from her throat. Rengoku repeated the movement; it felt wonderful. It felt obscene. It made Y/N’s thighs contract around his head as her stomach dipped inward and a gush of her juices spilled out of her, more powerful than before, dampening the collar of the Flame Pillar’s haori.

For a breath, Y/N thought she would die of embarrassment until she felt Rengoku’s mouth vibrate against her from his groan of satisfaction. His tongue thrust once, twice more into her aching core before he withdrew completely, satisfaction tugging at the corners of his smirking lips.

But Rengoku looked nowhere near sated as he gazed down hungrily at her, wantonly spread out against the grass, the shredded pieces of her training attire strewn about, save for her haori.

“I will give you one last chance to end this now,” Rengoku whispered, kneeling above her but no longer touching her. “Tell me to stop, and I will. I will walk away, and no one will know.”

Though her body already ached from the intensity of Rengoku’s mouth upon her, she could not fathom stopping here, not when she’d barely begun to taste him herself. The thought of rolling aside to pull on the tattered remains of her clothing, to return to her estate and awake tomorrow as though he had not melted every icy reservation she’d held with his touch, was enough to make her want to cry.

Though her limbs felt boneless, she summoned all her strength to reach toward the Flame Hashira, to beckon him to return to her.

“I want you, Rengoku,” Y/N said, her voice a breathy whisper as tears clung to her eyelashes. “Please.”

Rengoku’s pupils exploded, his eyes darkening as he covered her nude body with his own. Y/N nearly sobbed in relief as his lips roughly caught hers, one hand coming up to cradle her face while the other snaked beneath her head, tilting it to the side so he could deepen his claim over her mouth.

Y/N’s hands rose, shakily, to pull at the buttons of his uniform top, desperate to feel his skin burn against hers.

“On one condition,” Rengoku said, moving his lips from hers to press against her ear, Y/N shivering. “You must call me by my name,”

“Rengoku?” Y/N questioned her mind too fogged by her own desire.

He nipped lightly under her jaw before pulling his face back from hers, smirking slightly at the way she whined when avoided her attempt to kiss him again.

“My true name.”

With clarity, Y/N realized what he desired. But he had teased her far too much already, and she yearned to return the favor.

So she looked up at him through her eyelashes, teeth sinking into her lower lip in such a way that made the Flame Hashira’s eyes darken.

“Please, please, Kyojuro,” she whispered, lancing a hand up his bicep. “Take me.”

The growl that clawed its way out of the heaving chest of the Flame Pillar made Y//N’s thighs clamp together. Rengoku — Kyojuro — pounced on her, and Y/N summoned all her residual strength to rip his uniform shirt open.

Kyojuro moaned into her neck as his shirt gave way and Y/N’s hands came to rest against his bare skin, her nails raking down his taut pectorals to the rigid planes of his chiseled abdomen.

Her lips began descending the path carved by her nails when she drew short at the dark, thick starburst-shaped scar that covered his shoulder and left pectoral. Kyojuro’s breath seized as she pressed her lips ever so softly against it, turning so she could look up at him from beneath her lashes.

Kyojuro was panting as she nuzzled against his scar, kissing it once more before gently gliding her hand over his heart and resting it there, letting herself savor the strong, sturdy beat from within his chest.

Just as he did before, she resumed her trail down his body, her lips coming to the edge of his pants when his hands wound themselves in her hair, every nerve in his body alight as she licked her way up the small happy trail that stopped just below his belly button.

As much as he wanted to feel her mouth around him, Kyojuro had been driven to the brink of insanity by Y/N’s touch, and his resolve was quickly dwindling.

“Y/N — my flame — I can’t wait,” Kyojuro said by way of apology, as he covered her hands with his own to still them on his belt. He slipped his hands down to grip her wrists, bringing them together in one hand and moving her arms up over her head, pinning them against the grasp. With his free hand, Kyojuro loosened his belt and his pants, and shimmied them down, kicking them off behind him. Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight of his proud length as it bounced against his belly button.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She was no stranger to the male body, but this – she’d never had anyone compare to Kyojuro’s size or girth.

Kyojuro noticed her hesitation. “Is this – have you ever --?” Kyojuro breathed, hovering above her. It did not matter to him whether she had or had not, but he wanted to ensure that he did not hurt her.

Y/N shook her head. “No, it’s not my first time – but you are the first one to be so…well endowed.” Y/N flushed as Kyojuro laughed softly above her, and she felt his lips graze hers.

He pulled back slightly, reaching to grip the base of his aching cock tapping it against her soaked cunt in a warning and in permission.

Y/N seized beneath him at the spark of hot pleasure that was sent crackling up her spine as he rubbed his velvety head against the most sensitive part of her core. “Kyojuro,” she hissed through clenched teeth, rolling her hips impatiently towards him.

The mushroomed tip of his cock pushed into her entrance and Y/N felt herself go cross-eyed. It was heaven; pure, unadulterated, blissful heaven.

He was insistent on easing his thick length into her, but the throbbing between Y/N’s legs had grown nearly unbearable. He still wasn’t close enough, not nearly as much as she needed him to be.

Boldly, Y/N locked her ankles against Kyojuro’s backside, and with all her might, hauled him into her in a single stroke.

“Fuck!” he yelled, unable to restrain his volume as Y/N forced him to become fully seated within her. Her core was impossibly tight and so fucking warm and wet that it had been a true exercise of self-restraint not to spill himself inside her right then.

Y/N nearly screamed in pleasured relief at the way her body burned and stretched around Kyojuro’s considerable length, his base pressed flush against her sensitive clit as she began to grind furiously against him, desperate to relieve the friction that made her ache.

Kyojuro was still panting from the way Y/N had slammed him into her, nearly trembling with restraint as he willed himself not to finish before they’d truly begun.

Once certain that he would not climax like some green boy, he laughed quietly under his breath. The dark sound caused Y/N’s eyes to fly open, and her stomach flipped at the wicked glint in his eyes as he stared at her like a hunter stalking its prey.

Kyojuro leaned forward and took one of her breasts, harshly into his mouth, grazing his teeth over her nipple hard enough to make Y/N cry out in slight pain before he lapped at it soothingly with his tongue.

“You want me to fuck you, is that it?” He murmured between his ministrations, leaving fresh marks all over aching mounds.

Y/N could hardly make a sound as Kyojuro withdrew almost completely from her heat before slamming into her once, the Ice Pillar nearly choking on the breath that flew from her chest with his force.

Desperately — pathetically — Y/N nodded, whimpering.

“If that’s how you want it,” Kyojuro growled against her breast, giving her nipple one harsh nip with his teeth before pulling himself off her.

He sat on his knees, back straight as he began to pound relentlessly into her, his hands gripping her backside and holding her flush against his strong thighs. Y/N’s head remained thrown back against the earth, her fingers tearing at the soft grass beneath her.

Rengoku’s movements were just like those he wielded in battle — powerful; all-consuming; relentless; and unforgiving.

Y/N had never considered herself to be a particularly vocal person when engaged in carnal activities, but the way that Rengoku’s cock hammered into her spasming core over and over had reduced her to a moaning and whimpering mess. The only intelligible thing that fell from her lips was his name — Kyojuro.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this,” Kyojuro grunted out between forceful snaps of his hips against hers, the night air alive with the lewd squelching of Y/N’s dripping cunt as he pistoned into her.

Y/N looked to see the Flame Pillar’s eyes locked on her breasts as they bounced with the force of his thrusts. Between the moans and whimpers he pulled from her with every punishing thrust of his hips against hers, she lightly dragged her fingers from their place in the grass to her hipbone, and then up to trace teasingly around her peaked breast.

Kyojuro’s eyes followed every move, his thrusts hardening as she pinched her nipple and let out a breathy little scream, her walls pulsing around his aching length.

“Fuck,” Kyojuro grit, feeling himself twitch within her as he watched Y/N play with herself, spurring him to go faster, deeper within her.

He moved his hand under one of her knees and lifted her leg over his shoulder, allowing him to plunge deeper into her silken heat, and he teasingly drew his fingers up and down her outer thigh.

At that moment, as Kyojuro was poised against the silhouette of the moon, his amber eyes glowing as he watched where he appeared and disappeared inside her, the realization hit Y/N like a storm, and it knocked her entirely off her axis.

She was in love with Kyojuro.

Who else could make her feel so sacred and yet so angry? Who else had been capable of slipping past every wall she’d built within herself, capable of getting her to let her guard down before consuming her so furiously she had not realized she’d ever been in danger?

He was fire, she was ice. One of them had to give to the other. She’d just always thought it would be him giving into her.

Yet there, beneath the moonlight, her climax rising above her like a tidal wave, Y/N realized that she was powerless against the waves that rose to pull her under, to never again let her up for air.

Distantly, Y/N felt the Flame Pillar’s callused thumb find her clit and her climax slammed into her, and she succumbed to the endless sea called Kyojuro.

--------------------------------------------------------

As Y/N broke apart around him, Kyojuro swore he’d never seen anything as beautiful in his entire life.

She shattered over him with the prettiest scream he’d ever heard, and he could barely make out the drawn-out syllables of his name as her hips jerked up against his while her inner walls threatened to squeeze the life from him.

Y/N finally collapsed back against the ground, her body limp from the exhaustion of her pleasure. Kyojuro then moved in chase of his own release, his hips pressed solidly against hers as he rutted his cock deep within her.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hands tightening around Y/N’s waist. The familiar electricity of impending release tingled at the base of Kyojuro’s spine, and his stomach began to clench as he began his ascent to his climax.  “Y/N — I am going to finish soon,” his head was thrown back, and his groans were loud enough to alert anyone nearby of exactly what was transpiring between the two Hashira. “Please — tell me where--”

“Inside,” Y/N gasped, her legs tightening around Kyojuro’s hips in a feeble attempt to keep him within her, to ensure that he wouldn’t yet leave her. “Please, Kyojuro, stay.”

Kyojuro was a rational man, and he knew of one major reason not to allow his seed to spill inside Y/N’s heavenly body. But all those rationalities flew out the window at the sound of her wanton and needy whimpers and the way her heat fluttered around him and Kyojuro did not think he could pull out of her if he wanted to.

Kyojuro’s thrusts became more and more frenzied and bruising, with the Flame Hashira hardly dragging his twitching length out of her as he neared his own climax.

“Hold onto me,” he panted, falling forward so that his chest was pressed flush against Y/N’s, one arm going to wrap around her waist while the other snaked over to where her arm lay in the grass, gripping her wrist to pin it up over her head as his fingers interlocked tightly with hers.

Y/N hiked her legs higher up his waist, crossing them at her shins so that he was buried deep within her. Her free arm looped under the one he had braced above her head to wrap around his back, her fingers digging into the rippling muscle and scarred skin that littered his shoulders.

“Make me yours, Kyojuro,” she whispered against his neck, squeezing his hips with her thighs.

Y/N felt his entire body tense at her words and Kyojuro’s moans turned into shouts as he gave one final, deep thrust within her before he exploded. His hand tightened fiercely around hers with the force of his climax,

The pleasure that surged up his spine had been white hot as he pushed himself as deeply as he could possibly go within Y/N’s vice-like core. Kyojuro was not a novice to pleasure, but he had never finished as hard or as much as he did buried within her.

Kyojuro canted his hips, prolonging his release as he continued to empty himself into her, coming down from his earth-shattering high. Y/N mewled against his throat, her lips brushing against his sensitive pulse point as her legs spasmed. once more around his hips.

He finally stilled within her, arms shaking as he braced himself above her, to keep from crushing the exhausted woman beneath him.

He lowered his head down to her level. “Are you all right, my flame?” He panted, pressing a kiss between her brows before he rested his forehead heavily against hers.

She looked up at him from under her eyelashes and nodded shakily.

He no longer could keep himself from collapsing against Y/N, but as he fell forward, he gripped her and rolled, pulling her to his chest with his leaking cock still nestled deeply between her legs.  

“I don’t want to push you away,” Kyojuro murmured softly after a moment, his chest finally easing as his breathing slowed.

Y/N made a show of looking down to where they were still joined, the Flame Pillar’s pearly seed slowly leaking out of her and onto the grass below them. “I think I’m about as close to you as physically possible, Rengoku.”

Kyojuro rolled his eyes and ground his hips slightly into her, causing Y/N to squeak against him.

“Quiet, woman, I’m trying to apologize to you.” He trailed his fingers up and down her spine as she nestled back against his chest, chin perched on his pectoral as she waited for him to continue.

“I was just so angry. After the incident on the train, when I woke up in Kocho’s hospital — I was furious. With myself.” Amber eyes met hers and softened to pools of melted honey. “It was never you I was angry with.”

Y/N held his gaze evenly, her voice firm. “But you took it out on me all the same.” It wasn’t an angry accusation — it was the truth; ugly and sharp. But it was real, and so was the tentative, knowing hope in her eyes.

“Yes,” Kyojuro breathed. “Yes, I did. And I am so sorry for it, Y/N.” His hand reached up to gently cup the side of her face, thumb smoothing over the soft expanse of her cheek. “May I ask for your forgiveness?”

Y/N leaned her head into his warm palm, and smiled, softly.

“You may ask, Kyojuro.”

He brushed his thumb along her lower lip. “Can you forgive me, Y/N?”

Y/N threw a leg out over his other hip, straddling him beneath her, though moving so fluidly that they remained connected at their base.

She rolled her hips against his, and he felt himself begin to harden within her once more. Kyojuro moaned softly, head falling back against the earth as he brought his hands up to steady her, fingers digging gently into her hips as she repeated the movement, again and again, until he’d fully stiffened within her.

“Yes Kyojuro,” she sighed, hands coming to brace themselves against his abdomen as she began to ride him. “I forgive you.”

Kyojuro groaned, his head thrown back as he began to gently grind up into her, goosebumps erupting over his flesh as she lightly raked her nails over his pectorals and the hard ridges of his abdomen.

He wanted so very badly to lose himself within his pleasure, to allow Y/N to consume him whole and never let him go again, but his atonement was not complete.

Because Y/N had given him every opportunity to confess to her before, and he had been careless with them; she would not open that door herself again.

So he would.

“And may I give you my heart, Y/N?” He asked, his hands gliding sensually up from her hips to brace themselves on either side of her sensitive waist, squeezing her firmly.

Her pace had stuttered slightly once his words registered, eyes widening as she looked down at him, and Kyojuro hated that he was the reason the shadow of doubt lingered in her eyes.

“Is it truly mine?” She breathed, resuming the intoxicating rise and fall and push and grind of her hips, breasts beginning to bounce as she picked up her pace.

Kyojuro’s mouth watered, but he restrained himself, holding her gaze. “It was only ever yours, Y/N.”

Y/N cried out then, her hips beginning to drop and roll into his with urgency. By the way her damp heat began to pulse and constrict around him, Kyojuro knew that she was barreling towards her release once more.

One hand left its searing position at her waist to drift down to where they were connected, his rough thumb toying with the sensitive nub that had her heavenly cunt squeezing him for dear life.

“My beautiful flame,” he moaned, “how lucky I am to have such a darling god be the keeper of my heart.”

Kyojuro rolled into her from below again, the hand still braced on her waist guiding himself to push deeper into her, as his thumb began to press harder into the apex of her thighs.

“Sweet tempest, please,” Kyojuro panted, the relentless squeeze of Y/N’s walls around his aching length beginning to drive him to the point of madness. “Please, may I have your love?”

Y/N’s moans were piercing as she half-sobbed above him, head thrown back into the night sky, the hoary glow of the moon making her look like a celestial deity given human form as she writhed above him.

“Yes!” Y/N cried, “Yes Kyojuro, you have always had my love!”

The moment the words fell from her lips, Kyojuro jolted upright, coming into a sitting position as Y/N’s legs instantly wrapped around him. He wound one arm around her waist to bounce her in his lap, the other moving to circle his fingers around her nub.

Kyojuro nuzzled her nose with his own, his lips mere centimeters from hers as he pressed his forehead against her and held her eyes. “Then come for me, Y/N,” he murmured, his breath tickling her lips as he nuzzled her again. “Come for me, my love.”

Y/N seized around him like a vice, her head falling back as she unleashed a euphoric cry.

The force of her climax had caused her to arch backward in Kyojuro’s lap, thrusting her breasts up and forward, and Kyojuro bent to suck one into his greedy mouth, his own release imminent. The warm sticky rush of her pleasure combined with the way her velvety, molten walls constricted around him had Kyojuro seeing stars as his seed shot into her, hot and fast, his strangled groan muffled only by the soft plush of Y/N’s breast as he filled her to her brim for the second time that night.

For a long moment, neither Pillar said anything as they came down from their mutual highs, Y/N’s head pressed against Kyojuro’s shoulder while the Flame Pillar kept his arms firmly around her waist, his fingers trailing up and down her spine.

“Y/N, are you all right?” He murmured into her ear, still buried deep within her heat.

Y/N nodded sleepily against his skin, savoring how full and complete she felt perched in his lap.

“I love you, Kyojuro.” She said so softly that the Flame Pillar thought his heart might break. Kyojuro pulled away slightly to bring his fingers beneath her chin where she lay against his shoulder. Gently, he tilted her face towards his and captured her lips with his own.  

“My darling flame,” He murmured against her lips as they broke apart, his eyes sweeping over her face, committing every detail of her beauty to memory. “Thank you.”

Y/N gave him a lazy smile. “I cannot be your flame, Kyojuro,” she teased, “Not when I am made of ice.”

Kyojuro flipped her back beneath him and danced his lips teasingly across the bridge of her nose. “Don’t you know, my beautiful foil, that ice can burn just as well as flame?” He pressed a feather-light kiss against her lips. “And I have been consumed by your silvery fire since I first laid eyes on you at Final Selection.”

Y/N looked up at him in wonder, her hand coming to rest against his face as she adoringly caressed his cheek.

“I love you, Y/N. I am so sorry it took me until now to say it.”

-------------------------------------------------—

Epilogue

Y/N made back it into her room, sight unseen, just as dawn had crept over the horizon.

Feet bare, she padded softly over to her waiting bed, shrugging out of Kyojuro’s uniform shirt and falling into her blankets, not caring at the growing discomfort she felt as the Flame Pillar’s seed dried in her undershorts.

She just wanted to sleep.

Y/N and Kyojuro had come together twice more before the pair realized that morning was imminent, and they needed to return to their respective dwellings before anyone noticed they were gone.

Y/N had lamented that Kyojuro had shredded her chest bindings beyond salvation and had worried she’d be forced to sneak back into the Butterfly Mansion with nothing but her haori to cover her bare chest when Kyojuro slid his uniform shirt over her shoulders.

“No one will think twice if they see me bare,” he’d said by way of explanation, gaze dropping momentarily to appreciate the marks he had left dotted across her breasts before rising back to her face. “I would like to keep you hidden, however.”

Kyojuro then fastened each button one by one, beginning from the bottom as he kissed his way up Y/N’s torso until his lips found the sensitive spot beneath her jaw, which he’d nipped.

It had taken everything in her not to throw him down and have him for the fifth time.

Kyojuro had walked with her as far as the edge of the path back to Shinobu’s before parting her with a sweet kiss and a promise to return to her later in the morning. He had also mentioned, somewhat mischievously, that he would be inquiring into when Y/N could expect to be discharged from the Butterfly Mansion and return to her own Estate.

Her empty, person-free estate.

Y/N collapsed into her bed, ready to sleep for a precious few hours before her training would begin anew.

“So, do you mind sharing where you’ve been all night?” A dangerously sweet voice chirped from over by the door.

Y/N shot up out of her bed, stomach falling out of her ass, as she faced the smiling, enraged Insect Pillar seated primly atop her wooden stool opposite of her.

“I was quite worried, you know,” Shinobu tutted, the honey of her smile poisoned by the violence in her eyes.

Y/N had never been one to be at a loss for words, a quick comment, or a snappy retort always on hand when the situation called for it.

But to her horror, her mind had gone dreadfully blank, and her tongue was swollen stupid in her mouth.

Shinobu smiled like she knew, eyes slowly looking her over, and Y/N was left with the uncomfortable feeling that her friend could see every way she’d allowed Kyojuro to utterly defile her.

“Will you be in need of a contraceptive?” Shinobu asked lightly, and Y/N felt like she would drop dead right then and there.

“…Yes, please.” She managed to squeak, and the Insect Pillar turned to leave.

“I will bring it with your breakfast.” Her hand closed around the doorknob but stilled.

“And Y/N?”

The Ice Pillar whimpered as her friend turned to look back at her, all smiles and throbbing forehead veins.

“If you ever keep the younger girls awake from the sounds of your activities with the Flame Pillar again, I will poison you both.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Please, Please, Please

Summary: A lot can change in two years, but will your husband be able to gain back your trust?

Pairing: past (?) Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 3k

Rating: T

Warnings: angst, talk about past shitty behaviour, moving on, feelings and their denial, more feelings, earning back trust, eventual forgiveness, flashbacks, maybe... a kiss???!

A/N: This is it! The last part of yet another series that started out as a very angsty one shot I had no real intention of writing more parts of. I hope you like this last part. Now all I need is to finish my long neglected Joel Soulmate series....

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

part five of invisible string

Christmas was approaching. 

The second Christmas you and your family would be spending in Jackson. 

And with it a long to do list to make the holiday as perfect as it was possible in these times. The plan today was to prepare everything for the cookie bake session the next day at the community hall. Your alarm bleeped early and you reached over it blindly with a long groan that turned into a cough that shook your whole body. 

Groaning you turned to lay on your back, your eyes blinking open. 

Trying to take a deep breath through your nose gave you another cough attack, your throat hurting, your nose stuck. 

„Fuck,“ you sighed, eyes closing. 

„Mommy?“ There was a knock on the door. It was Ana. 

„Mhhhhh?“ You sighed and the door opened. Your heard her footsteps coming to the side of your bed, your eyes opening. Smiling softly at her wearing the Christmas jumper Tommy had gotten for her and her brother only the week before. Patrol having found five boxes in the corner of an old store a couple weeks ago. 

Her lips turned down as she looked at you. 

„Are you okay Mom?“ She asked, frowning. 

„I think I’m a little bit sick,“ you coughed, voice hoarse. 

„Oh nooo,“ she said, about to crawl into bed with you when you heard the door downstairs open and Joel calling a loud Good Morning into the house. 

„Daddy’s here,“ she cried out happily before she turned around, about to run out of your room, stopping at the door, looking at you. 

„Get better soon,“ she smiled before she turned around and ran down the hallway, leaving you chuckling to yourself. 

You must have fallen asleep again at some point, the sun already high up in the sky when your eyes blinked open the next time. You tried to take a deep breath which only ended in another coughing fit. 

You looked around the room, surprised when you found a full bottle of water on your bedside table. Next to it was one of those herbal scent candles lighted you knew one of the nurses from the clinic made in her free time and you think you could scent the eucalyptus. But maybe that was just wishful thinking.

„You’re awake,“ you were startled, your head turning towards the voice, finding Joel leaning in the doorway. 

„Barely,“ you croaked and he hummed. 

„I got the kids to school and I shovelled the snow in front of the house. I also started some chicken soup downstairs and Tommy will get some honey so I can make you your favourite tea,“ he said and a small smile sneaked to your face. 

„You remember my favourite tea?“ You asked and he looked almost insulted. 

„With the amount of times you asked me to keep an eye out for honey and lemon? You bet I do,“ he winked.

You still did not know how to react to him causally mentioning things like these. 

The last almost two years had been a constant back and forth on your journey to learning to trust Joel again. And he was working hard to get you to trust him again. 

You had talked. A lot. 

Which was so unlike the Joel you had married in Boston. He answered every question you had and apologised over and over again until you told him to stop. 

Deep down you had forgiven him a long time ago, and you told him so. Because it was hard to hold a grudge over someone who had such a big part in your life.

But that did not mean things could just go back to the way they were before. 

Something he agreed on. He did not want to get back to how things were. Because the way he treated you was not how a husband should treat his wife. And if you’d give him a chance to show him how he wanted to treat you if you’d let him, he’d love to have one. 

That was how family dinner started. 

Once per week in your house. 

Once in his house. 

And occasionally at Tommy and Maria’s.

In the beginning your brother joined the dinners too, still not trusting Joel completely, at least not with you and his family. 

Outside of that they became quite the patrol team, becoming partners. Calvin trusted Joel to have his back and vice versa. But it took longer to gain that trust when it came to you and the kids. 

You actually had one of your biggest fights with your brother when you wanted to tell Ana and Leo that Joel was their father. 

It was almost a year ago. 

You could see the longing in Joel’s eyes every time he was looking at the two children.

And even though it scared the shit out of you to tell them the truth and let Joel into your life like that, you knew your kids life would be better with Joel as their father. 

Because above all, Joel was a Dad. 

He had spoken a lot to you about Sarah and how losing her made him lose the part of himself that kept him going. That kept him human. 

He told you that he felt a little like that again when he met you, when you were together. But so many things had happened that made him fear for what would happen if you were taken from him too, that he always kept you at arms length. Even though all he wanted was to just love on you.

That part of him had died, or so he thought. 

Loosing you for real had made him spiral so badly, he had woken up in the FEDRA hospital with no recollection of how he got there. 

Apparently while drinking himself into a coma his heart had given out and he had a heart attack. 

If it wasn’t for Tess coming to pick him up for a drop he would have died. 

And it was only after then that he realised how much he was the problem in the situation he was in. 

Which apparently did not mean he wanted to change. 

No, things got even worse before they got better, but Joel did not want to go into detail about that. 

It was only after he was tasked with taking Ellie to the fireflies, you knew she was immune by now, that he felt like he was starting to heal. It was her that did it, and he told you that he was sorry he could not do it for you. That you had to live with a shell of a man. 

More than once he asked you how you could ever have fallen in love with him in the first place to which you only said

„The moment I first saw you I knew that you would be it for me. It was you or no one, Joel.“

And so, a week before Joel’s birthday you had sat him down and told him that you wanted to tell Ana and Leo that he was their father.

A news that was taken with big eyes and excited shouts of „I always wanted a Daddy!“ by both of your kids when you finally told them. 

Yet when a month after Ana and Leo asked you if they could have a sleepover at their Daddy’s place you found yourself agreeing only reluctantly. Frankly, you did not know what to do with yourself when your kids weren’t around. Because ever since you had given birth to them, you were never apart for more than a couple of hours. 

This would be two days.

You think it was the panic of being completely alone in your house that made you agree to meet up for dinner with Nick, Jackson’s dentist. 

He was in his late forties and had been in Jackson for the last five years. 

And it was only after almost an hour into the dinner that you realised that he thought this was a date. A date you had said yes to. 

Internally panicking you had excused yourself with a very much not existent headache, making your way to Maria and Tommy’s where you and Maria had a glass of Jackson’s first red wine and a much needed talk which made you come to the realisation that the thought of dating, let alone being together with anyone other than Joel was so foreign to you that for some reason you let Maria talk you into an actual date with Nick. 

It seemed logical to you after two glasses of wine.

Something you regretted by the time the date ended and you had allowed Nick to kiss you. 

You felt absolutely nothing.

Thankfully he felt the same way.

What you did not know was that Joel had seen the two of you kiss. He had been on his way to the Bison to pick up leftover cake for the kids, Ellie was at home with Ana and Leo. 

It was only when Tommy walked by, watching Joel stare at the spot you and Nick had long been gone from that Joel snapped out of his trance, the cake long forgotten as he walked back to his house. 

He had asked you about it the next morning, wanting to know if he still had a chance to make things right with you. 

And seeing him like that, almost desperate at the thought of having lost you for good, stirred something in you. 

So in a move neither you or him had seen coming, you had kissed him. 

It was just a quick peck, so quick you did not even realise it happened until after when you saw Joel’s surprised expression. He just looked down at you, his lips parted in surprise. You were torn if you wanted to run out for the door or if you wanted more. So you didn’t fight him when he pulled you closer, his arm hesitantly coming to wrap around your body, his face lowering to catch your lips in a kiss that would be consuming your every waking thought in the near future. 

He kissed you like you were his oxygen, and it stirred something inside of you, you thought you had forgotten. 

Joel moaned when you let your fingers scratch through his hair, his whole body seemingly jumping in surprise. 

Parting from your lips, he rested his forehead against yours. 

A tear slipped down his cheek as he smiled at you. 

„I gotta pick up the kids from school,“ he whispered and you took a deep breath. 

„I know,“ you whispered back. 

He pecked your lips again, before he very reluctantly let go of you. 

„See you at my place for family dinner later?“ He asked, to which you only nodded. He smiled, making you laugh when he walked straight into the wall behind him, cursing under his breath. 

That day was three months ago.

And while you haven’t kissed since then, you and Joel got closer. As close as possible without actually being together. 

Because there was a tiny part of your brain who was still wondering if the old Joel is lurking somewhere. If he would end up hurting you again once something happened that he could not deal with. If he would lash out like a wounded animal just to push you away again. 

Though deep down the last almost two years had shown you that he had changed. He was…. Content. Happy even at times. Mostly when he was with you and the kids. 

Ana and Leo asking if their Daddy could live with you was not helping either. 

Because you craved it. 

You craved having some… domestic normalcy in this crazy world. You wanted to come home to Joel. To have dinner with him and the kids every single day. You wanted to fall asleep in his arms. You wanted to wake up with him. 

You just wanted to be with him. 

The tiny part in your brain just needed to shut up and let you do your thing. 

When you woke up the next time to a coughing fit, the sun was setting outside. Taking a deep breath, or as deep as you could manage, you sat yourself up with a groan. You went in the bathroom to do your business before you grabbed your fluffy bathrobe, Joels birthday gift to you, and slowly made your way downstairs. 

You could hear Leo asking something when you made it down the stairs. Following his voice you walked towards the kitchen, a smile sneaking to your lips at the picture that you walked into. 

Joel was sitting at the kitchen table together with Leo, Ana on his lap. He had his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, as he helped Ana use one of the cookie cutters to make the perfect cookie, a big sheet of dough on the table. 

Looking through the kitchen you could see that he must have prepared the whole dough that you had intended to make for the baking session tomorrow. There was a big pot on the stove which probably would be the chicken soup he mentioned earlier. And to top it all off it looked like he had fixed the blinds of the kitchen window. 

„Mommy is awake,“ you heard Joel say and you looked back at your little family, sitting at the table. 

Leo and Ana were grinning at you, just like Joel, all three showing the dimple in their cheeks. 

„Are you feeling better mommy?“ Ana asked and you nodded. 

„A little. I might feel even better after I eat something,“ you said and she nodded. 

„You should have some of the soup Dad made. It’s super yummy,“ Leo perked up and you smiled. 

„I think I will,“ you said, walking over. You were about to grab a bowl to put some soup in when you heard Joel get up. 

„Sit. I’ll bring you some,“ he whispered as he walked by, his hand coming to rest on your hip as he did. You nodded, too tired to fight him before you walked and sat down at the table. 

„Daddy made so much dough, we can make our own cookies,“ Ana said, carefully picking up the cookie she had just cut out, setting it down on the baking sheet. 

„I didn’t even know Daddy could make dough. Or…. Cook anything really,“ you said.

„I have some hidden talents you do not know about,“ Joel winked as he sat a bowl of soup down you wish you could smell. It looked delicious and you gave him a small smile. 

„You gotta tell me about those hidden talents some time,“ you said and he nodded with a mischievous grin. 

„Will do. Now eat. You gotta get better,“ he said before he sat back down to make some more cookies. 

This is what you wanted. 

You wanted to have everyone you loved under one roof. You wanted Joel to never leave. 

You were back in bed after dinner, reading your book when you heard a soft knock on your opened bedroom door. Looking up you found Joel there, looking at you.

„Kids are in bed. I’m gonna get them tomorrow morning too, so try to sleep the cold off and get better quickly. Wouldn’t want you to miss Christmas over this,“ he said.

You nodded softly.

„Okay. Then…. Good night,“ he said, about to leave.

„Joel?“ You asked and he stopped and looked at you.

„Yeah?“

„Would you… Would you mind staying?“ You asked quietly.

Concern washed over his face immediately, walking towards you. 

„Are you feeling worse?“ He asked. He knelt down beside the bed with a groan, his hand coming to rest on your forehead. You shook your head, your hand taking his and pulling it down to rest against your cheek. 

„I want…. I want you to stay. Here. With me. With us. I want us to be a real family. I want to fall asleep next to you every night. I… want you to be my husband. For real this time. Because I finally feel like I know you. All of you. And I… I love you,“ you said.

Joel just looked at you. 

And when he didn’t say anything you were afraid you had waited for too long to completely forgive him. Your face fell and you were about to pull away when he kissed you, surprising you. 

„I love you,“ he mumbled against your lips and you sighed relieved. 

„I love you so much,“ he said and you carefully pushed him away.

„You gonna get sick,“ you warned and he huffed a teary laugh.

„I don’t care. Through sickness and in health, remember baby?“ He asked.

„We actually never said those vows,“ you reminded him and he hummed. 

„That’s why I’m gonna ask you to marry me. For real this time. But not now,“ he said and your eyes widened, your head shaking. 

„We are already married Joel. You don’t have to ask me.“

„Oh but I do. Because if we do this, I want to do this right. Fresh start. I wanna speak my vows in front of everyone who wants to listen because I will spend the rest of my life loving you the way I should have from the start,“ he said and you felt yourself tear up. 

„But not now. Now I want you to get better so I can take you out to show you the surprise I’ve been working on,“ he said and you smiled. 

„Surprise?“ You asked, he nodded. 

„I have been working on a surprise for you and the kids, and it’s finally ready,“ he brushed his hand over your cheek.

„Now I wanna knowwww,“ you pouted and he smiled.

„You will,“ he promised.

„Joel?“

„Yeah?“

„Will you hold me?“ You whispered and his expression softened before he nodded. 

Minutes later you were laying in bed, Joel behind you, his arms around you. 

„Thank you for giving me another chance at loving you,“ he whispered against your ear. 

„Don’t waste it,“ you hummed, already half asleep. 

„I won’t,“ he promised before you both fell asleep. 

[lyjen]

I Called | Part 2

Summary: When (Y/n) goes out to do a business check on a Self Storage building, she ends up getting attacked. Due to a technical difficulty the radio of (Y/n) remains on, so everyone including her boyfriend and brother can hear what is happening.

Request by: @shauna-carsley

<< Previous Chapter | 9-1-1 Masterlist

Taglist: I was thinking of starting a taglist, so if you want to be tagged leave a comment or tell me in “Ask me a question”! ( @oliviah-25 )

______

*

The attacker grabs (Y/n)’s arm and snaps it backwards. An ear deafening scream sounds through the building as she literally hears the bone snap. She feels how the bottom of the attacker’s shoe connected with the back of her knee as he kicked it. She lost balance on her right leg, so she tumbled to the ground and a loud cry fell from her lips.

Her body gets forced onto the ground by the power of his hands. (Y/n) falls face down onto the floor. In panic she starts touching the floor, looking for her gun with her only available hand that was working.

She could feel the man’s body standing over her. “Not this time.” she heard a low voice speak. (Y/n) turned around, so she was not on her stomach anymore, but facing the man with her back pressed to the ground, as she started crawling backwards. Trying to get away from the man.

The gun she was looking for, he was holding it right now, aiming at her. Her breathing became faster, her heart was racing, like it was trying to break free from her ribcage. “bye bye” he spoke as he pulled the trigger.

*

(Y/n)’s body flinched as he pulled the trigger, and within a second she was sitting right up in bed. Her body was drenched in sweat, she was on Evan’s side of the bed. That was the only place she would be able to fall asleep when her boyfriend was on a 24 hour shift and wouldn’t be back until the next day that afternoon.

She planted her head down on her hands, which were leaning down into her thighs as she tried to catch her breath. Tear after tear slowly made its way down her face. Her own scream is still audible in the back of her head, along with the sound of his fists touching her body and her bone snapping.

Why was she still having these dreams? It was like she had a dozen of these dreams, for weeks she had to relive the same dream. And now, she was dreaming of different kinds of scenarios. Of how it could’ve ended. “For fuck sake” she mumbled as she sniffled and wiped her hands underneath her eyes so she could wipe away her tears she shed.

She sighed as she tapped her phone on, three in the morning. Nice. Secretly she would’ve hoped Evan could walk into his apartment any minute, and to tell her that she would be okay, or to just put his arms around her, and hold her.

Part of her wanted to text Evan or her brother. But, they were on shift. They had more important things to do than to listen to her crying, telling the same dream. They couldn’t magically fix this, she knew that. But it was nice to know that somebody was listening to her. It was better than keeping it to herself, right?

“Get out of my head” she cried as loud as she could. But she could still hear her own scream echoing in the back of her mind, from that day. She wanted to shut out the sounds of her trauma, but she couldn’t. Her fingertips into her hair, it was like she was turning into a crazy person. She squeezed her eyes closed, as hard as she could when the sound in the back of her mind became louder, and louder.

Her breathing started to fasten, she had just calmed herself down and now her mind was doing this to her? Her heartbeat was starting to race again. “Oh god” she panted through her breaths as the tears started to stream over her cheeks again.

She threw off the sheets that were still covering her legs as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and ran towards the bathroom downstairs. She grabbed the sides of the sink as tightly as she could. Her face was above the sink as she was gasping for air, choking on her own cries.

“Just s-shut up!” she gasped, trying to stop her mind from playing the sounds that were going on inside of her head. Her eyes opened as she looked at herself in the mirror, she flinched at the view she got as a loud scream fell from her lips.

He was there. Her attacker was right behind her, in the mirror. Without thinking, she turned around. There was nothing to be seen. (Y/n) grabbed the thing closest to her, a full bottle of shampoo, and threw it against the mirror which was attached to the wall.

The mirror on the wall broke into a hundred little pieces of glass, as she let her back fall against the wall of the bathroom and slid down the wall.

“Dispatch to 118”

Bobby’s hand reached out for his radio as he was sitting in his team to go back to the station. “Go for captain Nash” he pressed the button.

“Please proceed to Nova Passage Apartments. A neighbor called because of noise complaints, but mentioned that she heard stuff breaking and screaming. Victim may be in need of medical attention.”

Multiple faces in the rig were pointed at Evan now. “Copy that dispatch, 118 enroute.” Bobby called over the radio and turned on the sirens of the truck. “Isn’t that..-” Chimney started. “..My apartment building.” Evan continued as his eyebrows furrowed. This was just a coincidence right?

Evan reached into his pocket as he slid out his phone and unlocked his phone. He quickly swiped to his text messages, there was only a goodnight message of (Y/n) from a few hours ago on which he replied but she didn’t read it yet. That was a good sign, or not? That could mean she was still peacefully asleep in bed and someone else was in need of help.

He swiped the messages app away and tapped onto the phone icon. Should he call her? What if she was finally asleep without having any nightmares and he interrupted it by being worried. “Buck? You coming?” Eddie’s voice asked Evan as he kept on staring at his thumb hovering over the phone icon.

Evan’s stomach turned as he realized the truck had already pulled to a stop and he was the only one still sitting in the rig. “Yeah, I’m coming.” Evan said as he threw off his headphone, basically jumped down the truck and closed the door behind him.

Eddie closed the hatch of the truck as he grabbed a halligan out of it, just in case. The team followed after Bobby, but as soon as they reached the floor of Evan’s apartment and he saw officers in front of it, he knew his gut feelings were right. The officers were banging on his apartment door, asking if someone was home. But no one answered.

Evan carried his house keys in case of emergencies with him, he felt in his pockets, trying to find the keys while his breath started to fasten. He had to know if (Y/n) was okay, in the stress. He couldn’t find the spare key to his house.

He shook his head, this wasn’t happening to him. Meanwhile Bobby was in conversation with the officers, collecting information about the call. Evan stopped searching for his key, as he walked towards the door.

“Hey (Y/n)... It’s me… I’m coming in okay. Stay away from the door.” Evan spoke through the still closed front door. He took a step back as he for a millisecond closed his eyes and yanked his shoulder into the door.

The door flung open as he quickly scanned his house with his eyes.

“(Y/n)?” He called out through the house, as he continued his way into the room. Everything seemed as perfect as he had left it that morning.

“Buck!” Hen called out as she was standing in the doorframe of the bathroom. Evan quickly made his way towards the bathroom, and his eyes fell on (Y/n) broken down onto the floor, curled up like a ball against the wall, with Eddie to her side.

Evan kneeled in front of her, pressing one of his hands onto her left shoulder and the other one resting on her arm. Her brother’s hand was lying on her right shoulder, trying to give her some comfort.

Her knees were pressed to her chest, with her arm secured around them and her head was hanging in the space between her knees and her chest. Quiet sobs are leaving her mouth. “Hey.. what’s wrong?” Evan asked when he reassuringly rubbed his thumb over her arm, just to let her know he was here with her.

She continued crying. “Did something happen?” Evan asked her. He knew something had happened, otherwise his bathroom mirror wouldn’t be destroyed like this.

When Evan didn’t receive an answer, “Baby.. can you please look at me?” he quietly asked her. Her breathing was trembling, as if she had trouble with taking a proper breath. But her head slowly came back up, as her red, wet, broken eyes met his.

It looked like she was looking right through him, she was that broken. “Good.. you’re doing great, baby.” He supported her. “Can you please tell me what happened here?” he calmly asked her.

Evan knew he needed to give her some time to react. “H-he.. w-was here” she stuttered as a single tear fell down her cheek. Evan’s eyes locked with Eddie as he continued rubbing his thumb over her arm. His eyes wandered back to her “The guy who attacked you in the storage unit?” Eddie mingled into the conversation as Evan didn’t know what to ask or say.

She nodded as her eyes focussed themselves on the broken pieces of glass, shattered down the bathroom floor. “”I-In.. the m-mirror.” she gasped through her breaths. Evan’s hands rubbed up and down her arms as he took a look over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry” she softly spoke with a trembling voice as she shook her head and moved her head so she was now looking at the ceiling. Evan’s head shot back to his girlfriend, who was still frightened sitting down on the floor. “The v-voices inside my head.. I can’t stop them. They’re c-constantly screaming.” she cries as her breathing starts to fasten again.

“Hey, hey, hey! It’s okay.” Evan says as his hands slid from her upper arms down to her hands. “Look at me.” he said. (Y/n)’s eyes squeezed shut as she gasped for air and pressed her nails into Evan’s skin. “Please.” He begged. He helped her out of previous panic attacks, but this one sounded different. He had never seen her so scared, so broken. Eddie’s hand pushed down onto Evan’s shoulder, as a sign to let him try and help his sister out.

Eddie kneeled down onto his knees, as he took Evan’s place and Evan himself switched to Eddie’s place. “(Y/n). Please, listen to me. You’re having a panic attack.” Eddie’s voice sounded calm, his hand was still on her right shoulder. “Just breathe okay? Breathe from your abdomen, not your chest.” he continued as (Y/n) was still gasping for more and more air.

Evan could hear (Y/n) trying to fight herself, trying to fight the attack she was having. “Just sh-” she cries as she could hear more voices, and more. “I need you to touch four things okay.” Eddie commanded her as she tried to fight. “Please! I can’t-” yelped through her sobs.

She placed her hand onto the floor, and the other one against the wall. “F-floor. W-w-wall.” Her eyes scanned the room, and she placed her hand down to the medic bag which was between Eddie and Evan, and she touched the radio. ”B-bag. Radio” she gasped.

“Okay. Now, three things you hear. Just listen.” Eddie went on as (Y/n) grabbed her brother’s wrist and Evan’s upper arm to steady herself. “I hear y-your voice. m-my breathing. And peop-ple on the hallway.” she stuttered over her words. “Good. Now two things you smell” Eddie continued when she answered his command.

“S-shampoo. And cologne.”

“And last one, one thing you can taste.” Eddie could see the pain in her eyes as she quietly said the word: “Fear.” She bit down onto her lower lip when it started trembling and more tears were streaming down her face. As if she didn’t shed enough tears already. “You’ll be alright.” Eddie said as his sister pulled herself into his chest. His hand tried to give her some comfort by softly and slowly up and down her back.

Evan kissed the top of her head as he tried to keep it together himself. “We’ll work this out.” he mumbled against the top of her head.

______

After months of therapy, and recovery, (Y/n) had finally been cleared to go back to work.

But not like she wanted to. She has been put on desk duty.

(Y/n) has been working on filling in some papers, until she feels a hand touching her shoulder. (Y/n) felt herself flinching at the touch, but as soon as her eyes met two familiar ones she knew it was alright. “Oh my god.. Athena, you scared me.”

Her hand went up towards her left part of the chest. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to scare you like that.” Athena apologized. “How are you holding up?” Athena asked when (Y/n) pinned files together and closed the file she was working on. She took a deep breath, “Taking it day by day.” (Y/n) nodded.

A smile appeared on Athena’s face as she recognized the look she had in her eyes. “You can’t wait to get out there again, do you?” she softly laughed. (Y/n) looked down at her own hands as she started to fidget with her fingers and pick her skin. She nodded at Athena’s conclusion. “I understand. Working behind the desk wasn’t for me either.” Athena admitted.

(Y/n) softly smiled at Athena. “Yeah, but maybe it’s for the better that I'm on desk duty instead of out there.” she sighed. She missed the adrenaline, god she actually missed turning on that siren and stepping on the gas. “I’m not sure if I'd be ready to get out there again.” she continued and grabbed a new case file.

Athena nodded, understanding what she was saying, but she could see the urge to go back out there in her eyes.

“You know what.. Let's go for a ride hmm?” Athena’s voice spoke as she patted (Y/n) on the shoulder and started to walk away from the desk. (Y/n)’s head shot up at the sudden request from the sergeant. “But sergea-” (Y/n) didn’t even get the chance to end her sentence as Athena turned around in her tracks, and basically started walking backwards. “It’s already taken care of!”

She turned back around as she continued walking in her tracks. “You coming?” Athena called over her shoulder. A sound of doubt and hesitation fell off (Y/n)’s lips as she looked after Athena. What did she have to lose? She slid the chair backwards and hastily followed Athena.

“Where are we going?” (Y/n) asked as she was in the passenger seat of the police cruiser, with Athena behind the wheel. “You’ll see.” Athena spoke as she steered the wheel to the left to make another turn.

The car ride was silent, not awkwardly silent, but comfortable. (Y/n) watched trees, buildings and streets flashing by every second. Until the car pulled to a stop.

Athena put the car in park, as she unbuckled her seatbelt. “Athena.. What are we doing here?” her voice asked, disappointed. “We’re going back to the place it all began.” Athena said as she opened her own side of the door and shut it close.

(Y/n) fidgeted with her fingers as she saw Athena walking through the window towards the entrance of the building. She felt her heart race in her chest, and swallowed loudly. Her throat suddenly felt dry, and she took a deep breath.

Her hand unbuckled her seatbelt, and she slowly opened the passenger door of the police car she was in. (Y/n) could feel her legs almost caving in underneath her as she walked to stand next to Athena, who was in front of the large opening of the studio self storage.

“Why did you bring me here?” (Y/n) asked as she stared in front of her. She could feel the adrenaline rushing through her veins. “To overcome your fear, you first have to face it.” Athena spoke loud and clear. “So I brought you back to the place where it all began.” she continued.

A moment of silence fell between the two of them.

“Look. I know how hard it is to go back on the job after a horrible accident. Trust me, I’ve been there. And if there is one way to go back and get back your confidence, this is the way.” Athena said as she pointed at the building.

Her hands were pressed into fists, (Y/n) could feel her nails cutting through her skin as she anxiously looked at the garage door frame on the outside of the building. “You’re not alone sweetheart.” Athena spoke as she looked into her eyes and squeezed (Y/n)’s upper arm.

She felt another hand press onto her shoulder, when she looked over her shoulder it revealed her boyfriend touching her shoulder and his team right behind them. “That’s what happens if you call for backup.” Athena says.

(Y/n) sighed as she nodded at the studio self storage, “Let’s do this.”

Evan’s hand slid off her shoulder as she stepped forward, and made her way onto the concrete stairs.

She looked up at the dark night sky, as she let her eyes wander over the building. She let oxygen enter her airways as she took a deep breath. It was time to face her inner demons. Her nightmares had finally stopped, and the screaming inside her head had faded away.

Her foot stepped over the threshold, as she followed the hallway inside. She slid her flashlight out of her belt and switched it on as she made her way through the halls. The deep, dark, creepy halls that had haunted her day after day.

After a while, of making her way through the building, she turned to the left. This was it. This is where the nightmare began. Some garage doors had been dented by the pressure that the attacker had on her body. Her body was slammed into multiple of these doors.

She shone her flashlight on the dents that were left on the doors and traced her fingers over it. A scream roared through the back of her mind. (Y/n) aimed her flashlight down to the ground as she kneeled down and inspected the little old blood spot that they missed when they cleaned the scene. A groan from her lips and gunshot rang through her ears, as a high frequency tone slowly faded out of her hearing.

(Y/n) clicked her spine back in place as she stood back up again, and nodded at the scene. She finally made peace with what happened in here.

When (Y/n)’s face was lit up by the light of the moon, a smile appeared on her face as she heard the sound of people clapping and cheering. They knew, she had overcome her fears and she wasn’t afraid. Not anymore.

She felt a hand slid down her waist as she gets pulled into her boyfriend’s chest. His warm breath hoovered over her ear, “I’m so proud of you.”

<< Previous Chapter | 9-1-1 Masterlist

[ieatgoldfishy]

Please - Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader

Cw: switch Miguel, switch y/n, begging, rough sex, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, hair pulling, overstimulation, pussy drunk! Miguel, cock drunk! Y/n, name calling (baby, Amor, etc), size difference/kink, man handling.

(First post wow. Idk why i didn’t write smut for him sooner.

Pls request shit, I have nothing to do in the summer.)

_______________________________________________

It had been about a week since you had figured out that Miguel O’Hara, your boyfriend, was Spider-Man. You were so angry, he’d leave you in the middle of the night to go fight crime and wouldn’t be back until 6am in the morning.

He’d come home bruised and limping and never told you why. He had you worried day and night he was getting himself into trouble. You hadn’t talked to him since you found out. You could see the desperation in his eyes any time he’d try and talk to you but was turned down immediately.

You were In the kitchen, cooking dinner when you heard the door open. Miguel didn’t get off work until 9:00pm so you wondered who it was. You walked to the door expecting an intruder, but low and behold, it was your boyfriend.

You turned back around and walked to the kitchen. “Amor, please! Talk to me!” He cried. “Why would I?” You asked him. “You waited till now to tell me that you of all people are Spider-Man! You left me in the middle of the night with no explanation. I was so fucking worried about you when you came home with bruises all over you!”

“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to leave!” He was behind you at this point. He put his bulky arms around your waist and lowered his head to you neck. “Is there any way I can make it up to you? I’ll do anything.” He whispered into your neck.

You could feel yourself growing hot at the contact, along with not talking, you two also haven’t had sex in a week. It was brutal. “What do you think you can do for me?” You asked him, still stirring the pot of soup your making.

He was silent for a minute until he finally said something, “please let me eat you out, please” he whined in your ear. “I’ll do anything, please let me do this” your cunt felt hot, so hot.

You turned off the heat for the soup and turned to look at him. You have him a look of ‘follow me’ and walked to the bedroom. He followed happily behind you.

You walked into the room and took your shorts off and crawled onto the bed. You leaned your back on the stacked pillows and put your knees in the air, spreading your legs for Miguel’s view.

Miguel looked at you like a man starved, he looked like he was ready to pounce onto you. Instead, he crawled to in between your legs and looked at you. “Go ahead” you told him.

Without a second to waste, you panties were ripped off and he was attacking your clit. His tongue was so skilled. The stimulation sent bolts of pleasure through your entire body.

You were so lost in the pleasure that you didn’t notice his hand creeping up to your cunt. Before you knew it, he had two fingers up your cunt while sucking on your clit.

Your hands flew to his hair, gripping it like you were going to rip it out. Miguel let out a moan directly onto your clit, vibrating it for a second. You grabbed his hair harder and he moaned again.

He added another finger into you, finger fucking your with three now. You could feel yourself growing close. Your were getting so loud, the neighbors definitely hated you by now.

“Miguel I’m gonna-” you were cut off by him going faster, sucking and licking your clit harder. Your were screaming. Your orgasm hit you like a truck. You expected him to stop but he kept his hard and fast pace.

He was overstimulating you to the point your screaming his name and mindless babble. Your entire sense shrunk down to his tongue and fingers. You could feel your second orgasm building.

“Fuck Miguel!” You moaned out. You started grinding your pussy onto his face, trying to make your orgasm come quicker. Your were so close to cumming, you and Miguel knew it. He kept at it until you came a second. This one better than the last.

Your thighs wrapped around his head as he walked you through your orgasm. Once your climax finished, he pushed your thighs off you his head and sat up on his knees. “Miguel..” he looked at you, “please Miguel, fuck me” you told him.

“How badly do you want me too?” He asked. “Please Miguel, I need you to fuck my pussy into mush. Fuck me so hard I don’t even know my own name. Destroy my fucking legs, please.” You looked down at his sick and saw him so hard his was almost busting through his pants.

You ran your hand over his clothed cock and he whined at the contact. “D-don’t do that, y/n.” He told you. “Why not?” You asked him, a cocky tone in your voice.

Without saying a word, he flipped you onto your stomach, putting a pillow underneath your hips, leaving your bare ass in the air. He pressed his bulge onto you Ass and moaned.

“Because I can’t hold back” you heard him stand up and take off his clothes. The only thing you had on currently was one of his baggy t-shirts with not bra underneath.

He got back on the bed and lined himself up with your pussy. In an instant, he shoved his cock inside you with no warning. You screamed out, “Miguel! Fuck!”

He began pounding into you at a fast pace, fucking you into the bed. He put his hands by your head. You were still sensitive from your first two highs your could barely think.

You were grabbing the pillow in front of you for dear life. Your knuckles turning white. He was going so fast your couldn’t think. The only thing your could tell, was that he was holding back.

“How’s that for you?” He asked. “Don’t….” You barely get words out. “Don’t restrain yourself….” You whined out. He was quiet for a second. Then you felt him go impossibly faster. He was so deep in your cunt your couldn’t even think.

He was getting close and you could tell, his dick twitching inside of you. “Mi amor.. please, let me cum inside, I need to” he moaned out. You couldn’t form words anymore so you just nodded. He threw his head back and moaned.

“I’m fucking a baby into you, fuck, I need to, Need to cum deep inside you” he whispered. You could only moan in response. Both of you were almost there, almost to your breaking points.

His thrusts were getting uncoordinated and sloppy. He brought a hand down to rub your clit, making you squeeze around him. That was enough to send both of you to the edge.

He moaned into your ear as he came, still shallow thrusting inside of you. He eventually pulled out and watched his cum drip out. He pushed it all back in with his fingers.

He went into the bathroom and go a wet towel to clean you and him off. After that, he laid down next to you. “I’m sorry I-” you cut him off and kissed him. “I love you” you told him.

“I love you too” he said back