#from awhile ago so i lost them

[wyrmofworms]

it’s on sight you aubergine punching bag

[devilishdelights]

obey me groupchat? Obey me groupchat babe. Obey me discord babe invite me invite me please pleas

[carryonmylovelies]

omg hey hotties 😭😭 im back !

[slasher-male-wife]

Horror characters seeing their s/o covered in blood

Happy Halloween everyone. I did a poll awhile ago on what I should post for Halloween and this won. So I'm here to deliver what y'all voted on. I included a lot of characters in this just for fun. Disclaimer I haven't written for some of these characters in awhile or that much at all, so sorry if some of these are ooc.

Includes: Amanda Young, Michael Myers, Otis Driftwood, The Lost Boys, Candyman, Doomhead, Patrick Bateman, Severen Van Sickle, Pyramid Head, and The Sinclair brothers

Warnings: Mentions of real and fake blood, slightly suggestive content, gn reader, talk of drinking blood in The Lost Boys and Severen's section, violence, murder

Amanda Young

You weren't supposed to find out about what Amanda did. She wanted to keep you separate from the gore of her apprentice work. But accidents happen and somehow you get to where a trap had happened.

You were in the where-house when you slipped on a puddle of blood and got your entire front half covered in it. You screamed out and Amanda quickly came rushing in.

You standing there covered in blood made something tick inside of Amanda. Something she knows she shouldn't feel seeing you covered in blood.

But she pushes this aside and quickly assures you it's fake blood that happened to spill all over the ground. She can't stop herself from giving you a quick kiss before helping you leave.

She'll get you all cleaned up back at home but she won't be able to stop thinking about seeing you covered in blood.

Michael Myers

Michael was out while you were getting ready for a Halloween party. A part of your costume involved you getting drenched in fake blood. After pouring the fake blood all over yourself in your bathtub you let it dry and step out.

You're downstairs, gathering up your things for the party when you notice the feeling that you're being watched. You turn around and spot Michael watching you.

Michael knows what real blood looks like and considering you're pretty calm he knows this is for your costume. But something inside of him is yelling at him. Not in the usual 'kill someone' way, but in a 'get them and try not to hurt them' way.

You're going to be late to that Halloween party. Michael is going to stand there and make you spin around for him so he can watch you move while you're covered in blood. You know he's getting some kind of kick out of this, so who are you to stop his fun.

After this Michael will try to hint at you to get covered in blood more often. He'll even offer to get the blood this time, but it wouldn't be fake if he got it. He'll keep thinking about you covered in blood and won't be forgetting how it made him feel anytime soon.

Otis Driftwood

You walked in on him at a bad time. While you've grown to accept what your boyfriend does, you don't like partaking in his torture of other people. But when you walked into the wrong room at the wrong time you got sprayed all over with blood.

It coats your face, hair and chest. You thankfully didn't get any in your eyes or mouth. You do let out a scream of surprise but you're not too grossed out by the blood, living with the Firefly family for as long as you have will do that.

Otis takes a good long few moments to just stare at you. You're hot enough as it is, but seeing you all covered in blood like this? Otis is going to have to go take a long cold shower.

"Well isn't this my lucky day." He'll say before walking over to you, completely ignoring the victim now. He'll take all of you in and won't let you wash it off so quickly.

"I just wanna take a couple pictures of ya darlin'." He'll quickly get his camera out and have you pose for him while you're still covered in blood. This will come in handy when he's having art block or he just needs to have some 'personal time'.

The Lost boys

It's your first time feeding and it ended up getting really messy for you, considering you've never done it before. So you got just as much blood all over yourself as you did in your mouth.

Dwayne is the first to notice and he's smirking a little to himself as he watches your blood covered body move. He's committing this sight to memory and he'll probably find a way to get you covered in blood again.

David is the next to notice. He'll smile wider than Dwayne and make some comments about how messy eating can get at times. But he'll also talk about how hot you look covered in blood.

Marko doesn't even make a comment, he just straight up lunges and kisses you right then and there, fangs still out and everything. Seeing you all vamped out and covered in blood really got to him, making him loose all self composer that he has.

Paul also joins in on kissing you, but he'll opt for your neck since your mouth is taken. I can see him licking some blood off of you, but not too much because he loves the sight of you drenched in blood. But the boys will agree to try and get you that messy again the next time you feed.

Candyman

You didn't want to go with him. You summoned him and when he showed you how devoted he is to you, you didn't want to go. So he had no other option than to make you go by force.

You're entering your apartment after going to a Halloween party. Your costume was something you put together quickly and involved you pouring fake blood all over your front half. As you walk further into your apartment you get a strange feeling.

You try to ignore it as you walk to your bathroom to wash off the fake blood. Before you can do that you hear something moving in your medicine cabinet. You open it and after a few moments a hook jumps through it. You obviously scream and run out of your bathroom.

You're in your kitchen, picking up your phone when you see him again. He's looking at you with that same adoration in his eye from the first time you met him. He's looking you up and down. You're frozen again as he watches you.

"You're even more desirable covered in blood," He says in his sultry voice. You shed a couple tears as you try to move, but you're unable to. "I'll have to remember this the next time I see you my love. I'll never be able to forget this."

Doomhead

He knew you were going to a Halloween party, but what he didn't know was that you were going to be covered in blood when you came home. He knows real blood from fake blood and when he sees you he can't help but chuckle.

31 is coming up and he's always tried to keep you separate from it. Seeing you covered in blood is a bit of a double edged sword for him. On one hand he loves seeing you covered in blood, but he also can't stop thinking about 31, and what would happen if you got caught in it.

"Ok so I got a little too close to one of the decorations and I accidentally got covered in fake blood." You explain, taking off your shoes, "I should probably shower all of this off."

"Well I was hoping to get a better look at you like this." He says with a Cheshire grin. You roll your eyes but smile and walk over to him. He spins you around a bit, taking a good look at all of the blood on you.

He knows he'll have to tell you about 31 eventually, and that he'll always keep you away from it. But for right now he can enjoy watching his s/o look stunning while covered in blood.

Patrick Bateman

He got a little too careless and right as he was killing someone you walked in, getting covered in blood from the victim. You of course start to scream and he quickly covers your mouth.

He's so angry with you for interrupting this, but something about seeing your face and body covered with blood, excites him. "I can explain this. Calm down and listen to me." He says, trying to keep his voice calm. His anger starts to mix with arousal as he slowly slides his hand away from your mouth.

"Oh my god Patrick what happened? Who is this?" You ask, holding back tears. His attraction to you is starting to get a bit too much for him. He'll find a way to explain this murder, just like he'll find a way to explain why he wants to do it while you're covered in blood.

"He broke in and attacked me. I had to fight him off and I went a bit too hard I think. We can't tell anyone about this alright?" He says, trying his best to keep a calm, in control voice, "But right now we need to get to the bedroom.

Murder's don't get him as excited as seeing you covered in blood got him. He'll have to go out and buy some fake blood and recreate this with you again. He's glad he has such an understanding s/o.

Severen Van Sickle

It's been awhile since your last feed and when you finally got someone you could barely hold back from drinking as quickly as possible. Because you were so worried about eating as much as you could as quickly as possible you got yourself covered in blood.

After you pushed the body away Severen took notice of your blood soaked clothes. He couldn't stop himself from smiling and taking a good long look at you. He knows you'll be too full to do anything after feeding that much so he'll have to commit this sight to memory, just for some fun activities later.

You wipe your mouth and smear more blood over your face and Severen can barely contain himself at this point. He'll have to quickly ask you if you're up to help him, or if he should do it alone.

Either way he doesn't want you cleaning yourself up anytime soon. Even after his issue is taken care of he just wants to see you covered in blood. He loves how it looks in general but also aesthetically. If he has a camera on hand he's taking a picture of you.

He will try to recreate this later. Next time you're feeding he'll try to get blood all over you. I can see him filling up his mouth with blood and just spitting it on you because let's be honest, he's very dirty and probably has as many diseases as a stray cat.

Pyramid Head

You're walking around Silent Hill, trying to find some more food to stock up on when you come across one of Pyramid Head's recent kills. You don't notice and you slip on the puddle of blood.

You're used to the blood and gore of living with Pyramid Head in Silent Hill so slipping on blood and getting it all over your clothes is more of an inconvenience than scary. You groan and stand up, looking at blood slightly dripping off your clothes.

You turn around and find him standing near you. "I just slipped on some blood. It's not mine and I'm not hurt." You say. You can never really tell what he's feeling or his emotions but you can sense he's feeling a certain way about you being covered in blood.

You two just stand there while Pyramid Head is thinking about smearing more blood all over you. Seeing you covered in blood is doing something to him. So he walks over, get's blood on his hands and rubs it over your face and clothes.

He'll follow you around and just keep watching you while you're covered in blood. He'll be thinking about this for awhile, and he'll try to recreate it whenever there's free time or he just needs to see you covered in blood.

Bo Sinclair

You were busy going after a victim and it got a bit messy. You got yourself covered in blood. By the time you get the body back to the House of Wax the blood that's on your hair and face has dripped down to soak your clothes even more.

You hand it off to Vincent and when Bo sees you he pauses for a moment before he chuckles. "I like yer new look darlin'." He says teasingly. But he's using that teasing to mask how damn hot you are covered in blood.

You're able to pick up on this and you know a great way to get him back for making you chase down someone and kill them.

"Oh I know. I love this look too." You say teasingly back to him, moving your hands up and rubbing your hand over your face and neck, getting a good amount of blood on it. You walk over to Bo and smear the blood on his shirt before you step back.

"Too bad I'm about to wash it off." You say before you dodge Bo trying to grab you, "If you catch me before we get to the house I'll let you wash it off." You say before running out of the house, Bo follows behind quickly.

Lester Sinclair

You're helping Lester out by picking up a deer from the road. You're in the middle of lifting it into the truck when something happens and you get covered in deer blood.

Lester quickly rushes over to you and lifts the deer into the back of the truck. He's looking you over and making sure that you're ok. You'll have to assure him at least ten times that you're perfectly ok and that the deer just got blood all over you.

Now knowing that you're ok he does kind of realize that, you look good covered in blood. Lester loves when you get a bit dirty in general, but blood has him feeling a bit more excited than normal.

He'll zone out a bit for awhile until you bring him back and he acts like everything is good and he's totally not obsessing over the look of you covered in blood.

He'll keep this to himself until it starts to boil over and he admits to you that he hasn't stopped thinking about you being covered in blood. If you suggest the idea of getting covered in blood again he'll be all over that idea.

Vincent Sinclair

When you offered to model for Vincent's study you didn't expect to get covered in fake blood. But Vincent wanted you covered in blood and you didn't really mind so that's what the two of you do.

You stay still the entire time but you notice Vincent staring more than he is drawing. But once he notices you noticing him he gets back to drawing you.

He takes his damn well time to draw you and at one point he stands up and walks over to you. He starts to pose you in a different way and it's totally not an excuse to touch you and see you covered in blood up close.

He'll put you in so many different positions and will keep pouring blood on you. He's honestly memorized by you standing there covered in blood. At one point he'll bust out the camera and ask if he can film.

He sees you being covered in blood in a more romantic, artistic way that makes his heart beat faster. He'll have to get you covered in blood more often so he can draw, paint, photograph, etc you.

[pinejayy]

hi . i have a request

what if muzan wife had been reborn and he saw her by accident how would he reacts? . sorry for any mistakes English isn't my first language

sure thing!! I hope you enjoy this uwu

trigger warnings: mentions of death, a bit of yandere

here's part 2

I'll make you remember me (Muzan Kibustsuji x F!Reader)

It's been years since Muzan has lost you and it has broken him, he had lost you his wife. The Demon King truly missed you, he misses your smile and he misses how kind you were towards him. But everything was taking away from him after you were killed by some humans. They found out about your relationship with the Demon and since you were human it was just against their laws that a human and a demon could love each other. But he made sure to kill those humans who took you away.

But that was about 30 years ago, and Muzan has pushed those feelings down deep inside of him.

Tonight was a peaceful night, he was walking around the small village, as people were walking past him he couldn't help but growl to himself, he hated humans. He hated how they took you away from him. But the Demon needed a break from his work and the Upper Moons, they all get on his nerves. He just sighed to himself, as he was walking hearing the humans walk around and speak to each other but a voice caught his attention, it sounded like your voice. No that can't be right? You were long gone and 6 feet under.

"Fresh Noodles right here! Come buy them as their fresh!"

Yes that sounded like your voice, he decided to follow the voice, as he walked he seemed to be getting nervous. As he walked towards the voice he saw you? Standing by a small Noodle shop. You were smiling and waving at people walking by. Was it really you, Muzan walked towards you. Was this reincarnation? Did the universe send you back to him?

"Hello sir, would you like to buy some noodles." You say with a smile.

Muzan couldn't help but smile as he heard your voice and he just nodded. To which you just nodded, both of you walked into the shop. He looked around there was a few people. He sat down by a table that was away from everyone else.

"What can I get you today sir?"

He looked at you, it seemed like you don't remember him. "Y/N you don't remember me? It's me Muzan your husband." To which you looked at him confused.

"Oh I'm sorry sir, it seems like you have the wrong person." You say. "But would you like to hear about the specials today?"

Muzan looked at you, so you really don't remember him? He was heart broken. He just looked down. "Please Y/N...we were married. You were my wife...You were Mine." He hissed softly, looking at you. Muzan looked around the small shop and it seemed to be empty now. "You we're my Wife! They took you away from me!" He said. Standing up. He looked down at you. Seeing your eye color. They still looked beautiful.

" Oh sir...I don't know what you're talking about..Please leave now!" You say, taking a step back. And this just made Muzan even more upset. How dare you tell him to leave.

He looked at you one last time before leaving you alone at the shop. He was going to get you back and he was going to make you remember him and your past life.

After awhile, you were closing up for the night. Cleaning up everything, you sigh and thought about that odd man. He did seem familiar, and his voice you also recognized. But nothing came to mind. As you were getting ready to leave, you heard something behind you, and before you could turn around you felt a arm wrap around you. And a cold hand over your mouth, you tried to struggle. But whoever was holding you had a strong grip.

"Shh don't make this harder for me my queen."

Hearing the voice of the man from awhile ago. Struggling more, this made Muzan growl softly and he tighten his grip against you. "Stop moving Y/N." He said removing the hand he had over your mouth. and he started dragged a nail against your cheek.

"Please sir.." You started to cry out. "I don't know you."

He snarled and with that he turned you around so you were facing him. He grabbed your face quite harshly and forced you to look him in the eyes. "YES YOU DO, WHY CAN'T YOU REMEMBER ME Y/N! I LOVED YOU! YOU WERE TAKEN AWAY FROM ME!."

You whimper softly, and started to tear up. This made Muzan softly. He loosen his grip but didn't let you go. "I'm sorry my love, it's just been so many years without you and I deeply miss you."

You just stand there looking at the man's eyes. His pink oddly familiar eyes... "Please...let me go."

Muzan didn't want to force you out of here but if he has too then he will. He smirked, looking down at you. Placing a hand around your neck and bringing you closer to him, he placed his lips against yours. Oh how much he misses your lips.

You just stand there shocked, and of course you didn't return the kiss. Muzan pulled away and smiled at you.

"Don't worry my love, I'll make you remember me." He said and with a quick motion he hit you across the head. You fell to the floor. Out cold, Muzan just sighed and picked up your body and he threw you over his shoudler.

"You're going to remember me Y/N. I'll make sure of it."

[measuredingold]

you right

authors note: hello hello ! two weekends in a row ? i am on fire lol I’ve been working on this piece for awhile and finally got around to finishing it. inspired loosely by you right by doja cat. feedback is always appreciated and i hope you all enjoy !

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

cross posted on ao3

word count: 2.3k

cw/tw: infidelity, p in v ( be like them and wear protection! ), slight…angst?, noah sebastian is bad at feelings, slight hurt ig?, situationship lol, toxic relationship, 18+ mdni

Your breath hitches when Noah's hand runs up the back of your thigh, hiking your leg up against his hip. His lips brush over yours to muffle the noise you make when his hip rolls into yours, pressing you flush against the wall.

"Shit." He groans, pulling back to drop his head down to your chest, lips attaching to your exposed skin.

Your shirt was lost about five minutes ago, along with your bra, and your skirt was now bunched up around your waist. You knew it was a sight to see, Noah attached to you with your head thrown back against the wall, his lips wrapping around your hardening bud. Your hand moves to his hair, fingers twisting in his dark locks and tugging ever so slightly, and the vibration of his moan against your skin has your back arching.

The disappointment that was settling in your stomach was still there, fading, but still there nonetheless. You should be disgusted, ashamed for letting yourself get into this situation again but you're not surprised anymore. Noah was an enigma, pulling you to him whenever he could even if you tried to fight it. You couldn’t help that you wanted him, could never get enough of him. Constantly always craving to feel his lips against yours, to feel his hands caress your body, to feel his hips pressed flush against yours.

He was something you always wanted, needed, and you don't think you'll ever get tired of it soon.

Which you should. It'll never go further than this. Sex. That's all it is, all it'll ever be. Two people too stubborn to address their feelings for one another, instead hide it with casual sex. It's sad, and borderline pathetic, but that's how it's always been with him.

And how it always will be.

You thought you got over it. You met someone a few months ago, had a nice thing going. They were nice and treated you well. You thought the hold Noah had on you was finally over, you've moved on. Though, the second your eyes met his across the room tonight, celebrating a mutual friends birthday, you knew that it was a fucking lie.

You're not over him. You never were.

"Noah..." Another tug at his hair has his hips pressing into yours again, causing a moan to slip from your lips.

"Missed this." You hear him mumble, lips trailing up your chest to your neck. "Missed you."

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, the weight of it slamming into your chest. Missed you. That's the most vulnerable thing he's said to you in... ever. Your hips stutter for just a moment, eyes fluttering open to find that he's pulled back, already staring at you.

"Yeah? You missed me?" You hum out, your grip on his hair loosening.

"Of course I did." He pauses, tongue darting out to swipe across his bottom lip, eyes dropping from yours to drag down your body. "Did you miss me?"

When his eyes find yours again you notice the grin tugging at his lips because he knows you did. If you didn't you wouldn't be here right now, his hips flushed against yours with your back against the wall. You roll your eyes, but you know your cheeks are flushing.

"Maybe."

"Don't be like that." His head dips down again, lips brushing against the base of your neck and you can't help but shudder, your fingers in his hair tightening their hold yet again. "Say it."

"...Say what?" You sound breathless, eyes fluttering shut as Noah's teeth grazed over your skin.

"That you missed me." You don't even bother stopping the whine that slips from you when he pulls away, but he doesn't go far. His lips are barely brushing against yours now, forehead pressed firmly against yours. "Say it. Please."

"...I always miss you, Noah."

There's a split second of silence before Noah's surging forward, lips pressing into yours with such force you wouldn't be surprised if you woke up with a bruise on your lips. It moves quickly after that, your underwear being lost somewhere in the dimly lit room with your shirt, and then the sound of his rustling belt as he shoves his jeans down. He pulls away to flip you around, your cheek now pressed against the wall.

Big hands sprawl against your backside, gripping, and the groan Noah lets out from behind you has your core aching.

"Fuck. Look at you..." You hear him shuffling behind you and then the sound of the condom wrapper ripping, and for a second your stomach drops.

He was prepared, which isn't shocking to you, but he couldn't have known you were going to be here tonight. He acted shocked when he saw you, even telling you that he didn't think you'd make it. Had he planned on hooking up with someone else tonight? You don't get to dwell on it for too long, or the way it makes your blood boil from jealousy, because his tip is pressing into your entrance.

"Oh fuck." Your eyes squeeze shut and you reach back blindly, his hand finding yours immediately.

"So fucking tight." He grits out.

Your fingers lace with his and you squeeze hard, because the stretch is almost too much. Almost. You can't lie to yourself and say you hate it, because you don't. You loved the stretch, the burn of it all, because it was a sore reminder the next day that he was yours for a moment. His hand that wasn't laced with yours gripped your hip, his thumb sliding across your bare skin in a comforting manner.

"Always take me so well," He exhales, voice teetering on a whine, and he leans his forehead against your shoulder. "So good."

You just whimper in response, squeezing his hand again. The both of you moan in unison when he finally bottoms out, hips pressed flush against together. He lifts his head before you feel his lips ghost over your shoulder.

"You okay?"

You nod, teeth digging into your bottom lip to try and keep your noises at bay, mind already racing at how fucking delicious he feels inside. You never understood how he always felt so good, snug deep inside you, like he was meant to be there. He presses another kiss to your shoulder before unlacing your fingers, letting both of his hands now grip your hip as he slowly starts to move.

The drag of his cock has your eyes rolling back, mouth dropping open as he pushed back in, hips snapping against yours. The gentle demeanor is now gone because he knows your time is limited so he doesn't waste it, rocking into you with such force that has you seeing fucking stars. Pleasure courses through your body as the head of his cock slams into that spot over and over, your body shuddering against the wall.

"Noah..."

"What is it, baby?"

"I... I need..." You don't even know what you need and find yourself grinding back against Noah, pushing his cock deeper inside you.

“What do you need?” You only whine at his words, grinding back against him again. You feel one of his hands slide from your hip and down to where the two of you meet, his fingers brushing against your swollen clit. Your body shudders again, a broken moan leaving your parted lips. “Oh? Is this what you need, sweetheart?”

You nod, cheek still pressed against the wall as your eyes squeeze shut. “Yes. Fuck, yes. Noah, baby, please.”

He shushes you, fingers pressing against your clit and rubbing in time with his thrusts. “I got you. Don’t worry. Gonna give you what you want.”

You hear him grunt behind you as your cunt clenched around his cock at his words. It was all becoming so much so quickly, if you were more coherent you’d be sad at how little time you actually had left with him, but you can’t even think of that. No, you’re too focused on how fucking good his fingers feel, rubbing circles against your sensitive clit. His thrusts don’t let up either, his pace quickening and the drag of his cock has a fire building in the pit of your stomach.

“Shit.” He whines out, giving you one hard thrust before grinding himself against your ass. “Does he fuck you like this, baby?”

You choke on a sob, pussy clenching around his cock and you hear him groan.

“No, he doesn’t. Poor baby was begging me to fuck her.” His face buries against the back of your neck, his thrusts picking up again. “But it’s okay, you don’t need him… because you know all you need is me, right? I’ll always give it to you the way you like.”

He sounds drunk, words slurring in between his moans as he thrusts into you again. Your cheek is starting to hurt with how hard it’s pressed against the wall but you don’t care, chanting Noah’s name over and over again. The fire in the pit of your stomach keeps growing and you blink away the tears that are burning at your eyes.

It’s so good, feels so fucking good but so wrong at the same time. He wasn’t lying. Your sex life with your current partner was fine but nowhere near compared to this. Noah knew your body better than you did and knew exactly what you needed every damn time.

“Noah, I’m…” Your eyes burned and you choked on another moan. The hand between your thighs never let up, and his other hand comes up to wrap around your throat gently.

“Gonna come?” You try to nod in his hold, but his grip on your neck tightens slightly making it difficult. “Yeah? Go ahead. You can come, pretty girl.”

And that does it, the coil in the deepest pit of your stomach undoing. Your vision blurs and if it wasn’t for the grip on your neck, you’re sure your moans would be so loud the entire house would’ve heard you. You don’t even fucking care at this point, too lost in the pleasure that’s coursing through you, and the way Noah continues to pound into you to reach his own high.

“That’s it, fuck. Come all over my cock, baby.” He groans behind you, face burying against your shoulder to muffle his own noises.

Your body convulses with aftershocks of your orgasm, whimpering in over sensitivity. It doesn’t take much longer for Noah to find his own release, hips stilling against your ass as he whined out your name. His hold on your neck releases but he doesn’t move from you.

The two of you stay tangled in each other for a few moments longer, trying to catch your breaths. The reality of what just happened settles over you but for some reason you feel… content. The guilt and disappointment was no longer lingering over you.

“Fuck.” Noah chuckles behind you, lifting his head from your shoulder just a bit to scatter a few kisses where his forehead had been. You preen at the affection. “That was…”

“Yeah.” You say breathlessly, groaning quietly when you feel him shift behind you, cock still buried inside you.

The two of you both whine at the feeling of him slipping out and you couldn’t help but feel sad at the emptiness it left behind. You hear him shuffle around behind you, probably to throw away the condom and to hopefully look for something to clean you off with, and when your felt him settle behind you, the gentle touch of a cotton between your legs has you melting against the wall.

“Sorry to whoever shirt this is.” Noah mumbles, chuckling quietly.

You only hum in response, eyes fluttering closed as the exhaustion enters your body. Noah takes his time and even places another kiss against your shoulder, whispering to you that he was done and that you could get dressed now.

Something shifted in the air after that, the moment much more intimate than the other times you had spent together. But you nod, humming in response again before turning to find your clothes. You find your clothes with ease, Noah's words lingering in your head.

Because you know all you need is me.

The truth in those words makes your throat close up and you try swallowing whatever it is you're feeling away, pulling your underwear up and under your skirt that was still bunched up around your waist. You smooth it down before reaching for your shirt, slipping your arms through the holes. The weight in your chest returns, just like it had when Noah mentioned that he had missed you, the first admission of its kind.

Maybe there was some truth behind that for him, as well. Maybe all he needed was you, too. Your stomach turns at the thought as you begin to button your shirt up with shaky fingers, hearing Noah shuffling behind you in silence.

You begin to wonder what he must be thinking and a part of you is hoping he's thinking the same thing. It's foolish believing, you know it is, but you can't help it. Maybe you two had finally gotten over that unspoken rule that was set in place to where all feelings were avoided? Maybe it was time you two faced the music and admitted to whatever the fuck was going on?

You shouldn't want this. You should let it go. Yet, your mind is racing with all the possibilities and what if's, and you find yourself speaking before you can double down on it.

"Noah, I..."

You finished buttoning your shirt, turning around to finally face the male but find him nowhere to be found. Your heart drops, sinking so low into the deepest pit of your stomach. He's gone. He left you here without even an utter of a goodbye. Your eyes burn and there's a sour taste in the back of your throat, building up slowly as the realization dawns on you.

[neuvistar]

Can i ask for Welt with breeding kink? Yk i am OBSESSED with that dilf😻

BABY-MAKING!

— featuring ┊welt yang x fem!reader

— warnings / content warnings ┊cw: breeding kink??, multiple orgasms, belly bulge??, uhm uhm hes a lil messy n rough w it! welt being a needy lil bitch, pussy so good bro kept cumming inside, use of nicknames, this mf is so filthy when it comes to breeding u like it isn’t even him anymore bro /j, overall suggestive themes || 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

— a/n ┊i’m so sorry this has been sitting in my drafts for awhile but jesus i love that dilf too hes so fine, he’s expiring a bit like i said but it’s alright! i think he can handle it!

WELT YANG has a breeding kink. and he knows it. he’s always been so obvious about it, always asking you what your thoughts were on having children, if you were okay with those thoughts, asking you about pregnancy, blah blah blah! but you never took the hint, so you were just there and thought how sweet your husband was asking you about future plans between the two of you. it all came down one night when he absolutely lost it, letting his mind wander and take over him once and for all.

you decided it was a good idea to tease him one day, wearing some crappy old top you bought years ago. little did you know, it got.. a lot more smaller as your body grew. you tried pulling down your shirt, trying to cover yourself from welt hoping he wouldn’t notice. from time to time, welt would notice you clutch your shirt tighter each second, pulling them down to cover yourself. he couldn’t help but stare at how hot you look in that top.. he couldn’t help but just stare intensely at how your nipples grew harder by the second, poking out of your thin cotton top with a deep red hue on your face. were you doing this on purpose? he swallowed the lump in his throat as his eyes wandered from your thighs, to your face, then lastly to your chest, gulping at the sight of how well your shirt shaped your breasts, wondering how well it would fit if your breasts were swollen with milk for your baby, oh.. what a sight to behold that would be.

welt licked his lips at the thought, feeling your presence beside him as you had your hand on his thigh nuzzling against his shoulder, unknowingly rubbing your breasts against his biceps. “aren’t you tired of doing all that work, baby? ‘s too much.” you cooed, rubbing his thigh with your thumb in a circular motion.

“not really, no. i still have a few things to do. it’s late, run along and get some rest. i’ll join you for bed later.” he pushed up his glasses, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. but he just.. can’t help but notice how your nipples were poking out your shirt, how your shorts barely covered your plushy thighs.. he couldn’t take this for much longer.

“welt, i’ve been thinking.” you heard him hum, eyes still on his laptop as you shifted closer to his body, feeling his warmth against yours. “i’ve been thinking about how.. i think i’m ready.”

“ready for what?”

“for a baby.”

he froze in place, did you really just say that? he felt the blazing lust he was struggling to hold back wash over him, you leaned over to kiss his neck and before you know it, two hands grabbed your wrist pinning you down, knocking the air from your lungs as welt took off his glasses looking at you with such lust you’d never seen before.

“don’t play games with me, [name]. are you dead serious?”

“i’ve never been more serious in my life. i want a baby, welt. i want you to make me a mommy.”

well. that escalated quickly.

in a blink of in eye, you both were in the bedroom. back pressed against the soft mattress of the bed as welt hoisted your legs up around his waist, raising a brow at you in which you responded with a nod. he eagerly interlocked his lips against yours. his hands would slide under your shirt, taking your breast in his hand as he pinched your hardened nipples, twisting and tugging at them. “you want me to make you a mommy, hm? i’ll fulfill that wish of yours over and over again.. as much as i want.” you whined at his words, feeling his huge cock rubbing against the slit of your wet pussy. “y-you sure that’d fit?” you had your hand on his pelvis, holding him back before he leaned over to your ear, bring his voice down to a whisper. “i’ll make sure to stretch you out, don’t worry.”

he aligned his his erected cock with your soaking hole, slamming himself inside throwing his head back at the euphoric feeling of his dick inside of you “shit..” welt mumbled a few curses under his breath as he begin to move, raising your hips with your eyes sealed shut as “yeah.. that’s it. you’re doing great, sweetheart. you want a baby? s-shit.. i’ll fucking give you one.“ he rammed his cock inside, wrapping one arm around your waist pulling your bodies close together as he abused your needy hole with his dick. “you look absolutely ravishing, sweetheart. look at how good i’m fucking you.” you could feel your tight walls clench around him each hard thrust, he grabbed your hips and angled your body a certain way, making his cock brush against spots you never knew could feel so good. your body shook as you came on his cock the first time. “hm.. you liked that, huh? did that feel good?”

your moans and cries only grew louder, welt’s lips tracing down along the flesh of your neck, pounding into your sweet spot over and over again, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix. he was so rough with you.. you even asked yourself if this was really your husband, ramming into you over and over again. but you didn’t mind. really. welt’s dick was coated with a thick halo of white as you reached your second orgasm, whining at the continuous roughness of his harsh thrusts, one hand pinning your wrists above your head while the other squeezes your throat, applying enough pressure to force out a choked moan out of your lips. “gonna breed you so good, sweetheart. gonna breed you til i make you a mommy, you want that?” his hands reached down to caress your stomach, feeling him slide in and out of you, his lips curved into a smirk. “fuckin’ you s’ good that i can even see myself fucking you. look.” you hesitantly stared down at your stomach, seeing a deep bulge as you could see his cock thrusting inside you through your stomach, he grunted as he reached his climax, cumming inside.

“one more, baby. one more f’me.” you squirmed under his touch, mouth hung open as welt licked his lips, lifting your knees, pushing them down against the mattress as this position felt a little new to you, thrusting himself inside once more. “that’s it, pretty girl. take it all, mhm? ‘gonna fill you up until this pretty pussy has milked my cock to the brim.” you couldn’t do it anymore, you were a lot more sensitive than you usually are, even the thought of your beloved husband putting a baby in you was enough to make you go crazy. welt desperately wanted was to caress your stomach, caress it knowing he was the one who got you pregnant, and you were bound to have his child. he wanted more of you and it showed.

“take it.. take it all. take it like the good girl you are..” welt slowed his pace down, slowly but steadily, making sure not to miss a single beat. he was getting desperate.. you could tell. he wanted to get you pregnant already, he wanted to see your belly grow with his seed, he wanted to see it for himself. “keep clenching around me like that, princess.” he whispered lowly, voice filled with ecstasy as you felt his dick slide deeper and deeper inside of your abused little hole, stretching you out just like how he wanted.

“so tight.. you feel so fuckin’ good..” welt used all strength left in his body as he thrusted deep inside you, making sure not to miss any spot leaving no part untouched. “c—cummin’.. m’ cumming..” you whined, holding onto his arms before you squirted on his cock one final time as he came inside you too, streams of his load inside, coating the soft walls of your cunt.

“..was i too rough on you, sweetheart? are you alright?” the brunette panted, planting a kiss on the temple of your forehead as a way to say sorry, before you wrapped your arms around his neck. “n-not really.“

he grinned, spreading your legs apart as he went on to lick the mess he created in your pussy, licking it clean. “lemme clean you up, alright? stay still.”

-

long story short, he was not licking you clean, instead he made things more messier than it was.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Construction Dog Co.

Each one of these dumb brutes belongs to me! They once had their own lives and careers, but I replaced all that with the blind obedience of a dog. My words dictate their reality, so they'll believe anything I say. That's why it seems perfectly normal for them to wait like this every morning. They'd kneel there all day if I let them, but they need to work eventually!

"Get off your knees, dogs! Hop to work! It's the only thing you're good for!" I yell it with venom, but I relish seeing my words soaking in into their minds. With just a simple command, I've convinced them all that they are animals, good only for hard work and manual labor.

The men rush to their feet, scrambling to pick up where they'd left off yesterday. I don't bother understanding the minor details of their day to day responsibilities. I have different boys programmed to manage all that crap for me. I really only bother watching them sweat their days away.

Being the supervisor can get a bit boring, especially after hearing, "Thank you, boss. I love you, boss," for like the seventh time in a day. It kind of loses it's meaning after awhile.

That's why I often use them for entertainment. Watch this!

"Hey, you two!" I call, pointing at two sweaty workers nearby, "You're in love with each other. Make out!"

Despite being hot and exhausted, the two men drop their tools and perk up. When they meet each other's eyes it's like they're seeing one another for the first time. They practically slam their bodies together in a race to each other's throat, and within seconds the two guys are lost in a world of dirt, saliva, and lust.

I do this with my men often, but who could blame me! I handpicked each one of them because they were strong and hot. If they're going to be hypnotized work slaves, then I need to enjoy how they look.

"You too aren't doing anything else but each other for the rest of the day," I command with a laugh, "Got it?"

"Yes, sir," their replies are moaned out between breaths.

A lot of my laborers were straight before they met me, but these two were creeps about it. I think I found them at the gym, hitting on girls between every set. I obviously enjoyed erasing their raunchy personalities. I find it even more enjoyable watching them grope and slobber over each other, knowing that those bodies would've never done that before I came along.

Those jagoffs are just the beginning of my day! I leave them after they've tumbled to the ground, humping each other like the dumb animals they are.

"You there!" I point to a different guy, quietly stacking blocks nearby, "Get over here and clean the floor as I walk. These Timberlands are brand new and I don't want mud on them."

"Yes, sir," the worker answers and rushes over, throwing himself to the ground before me.

I chuckle and study the poor loser in front of me. With just a few short words, I have him scrubbing a place for me to walk like I'm his king. I scoff in disbelief when I finally recognize who the guy was.

"Wait, are you that jerk from the bank?"

"Yes, sir," he admits quietly, keeping his head lowered towards his work.

"Well shit, you've come a long way! Can you believe that a week ago you were some fancy banker who tried to deny me a loan?" I give his head a little nudge with the toe of my shoe, "This is a much better place for you...uh... Robert...or was it Roger?"

"Reggie, sir," he quickly corrects me.

"Well, it doesn't matter anymore," I scowl at him, "Forget your name. You're just a construction dog, now. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Who are you?"

"I'm...I'm just a construction dog." I can tell he believes it now, too. I'm probably the only one here that knows his real name, and I'll definitely forget it within a few days.

"Good boy," I pat him on the head, "Now, you're going to stay ahead of me and keep clearing the floor for me to walk."

Reggie mumbles "Yes, sir," and crawls forward to scrub away the dirt in my immediate vicinity. Continuing on my tour, the poor guy struggles to keep up on all-fours, but a good work animal must get used to that position.

By the end of the day, my entire pack of men is sweaty and exhausted. I usually make them all work the maximum shift with no breaks, so it makes sense for them to be tired. Still, they are programmed to come and kneel before me, waiting to be dismissed. They're all a bit antsy for a rest, but I like to test their patience.

"Alright, boys. You're dismissed for the night."

With a collective groan, they climb back to their feet, marching off to the bunk house.

The bunk house is where I keep them when they aren't working. It might seem tight but each guy has enough room to sleep; although, I make them share because I don't want to purchase anymore bunk spaces. I don't really like to spend any money on them. They have access to the porta-john out back, but otherwise they aren't allowed to go anywhere else. I also only gave them the clothes they work in, so they sleep in them too.

Needless to say, it stinks in there. Between the heat, body odor, unwashed clothes, and lack of showers, they've created quite the stench. I avoid their home as much as I can, but sometimes my curiosity gets the best of me. This is the first time I've seen it in weeks.

"Come on boys, don't look so glum!" I chastise them, "Smile! Act like you're happy to see me!"

I watch as a switch goes in each of their minds. Slowly, they snap out of their foggy eyed depression, and light up. The energy of the room transforms as reassuring smiles spread across each of their manly faces.

"That's better! You boys are a tight-knit team! You love each other!" I add, "You don't mind the back-breaking work, or the smell, or anything as long as you're together."

The men become even more at ease, relaxing into the arms of their coworkers. My heart is warmed a little, seeing them getting along with each other so well. They're acting like energetic little puppies now.

I'm ready to leave them for the night. It's time for me to return to my luxury condo down the street, but before I do, I catch sight of one of my workers. An idea springs into my head.

"You, there. Come with me."

"Yes, sir," he answers, though he seems genuinely disappointed to be leaving his buddies.

I lead him outside and hose him off to remove at least some of the mud and sweat. We walk all the way to my apartment. Luckily, he's mostly dry by then so I take him inside.

"Is this going to take awhile, sir?" he asks nervously, "I'm pretty tired and my bedmate is going to sleep soon."

"Shut up and get on the bed," I command.

His mouth snaps shut and he obediently approaches my soft king bed, crawling onto it like I told him to. I sigh when I notice that the stupid oaf still tracked a lot of mud in. I'll have to make him clean it all up later.

"Now, you aren't going to speak or move unless I tell you too," I instruct, "But you will realize that anything I do will be exactly what you want: no matter what I do..."

He gazes back at me numbly.

"Tell me you understand."

"I understand, sir," he instantly repeats.

Tonight is going to be a long night for him. Too bad he still has to wake up early and report to work. I'm already planning on sleeping in. I don't mind keeping my workers waiting for a few hours while I rest. It's my company after all, and they're just dogs for labor...

[creepswrites]

TIRED OF RUNNING | Sinclairs x Reader

YET ANOTHER REWRITE i have no idea why Tired of Running is so popular but i've always been proud of it :) the original can be read here but i will be rewriting all existing chapters to finish it!!

SINCLAIR BROTHERS x GN!READER (they/them)

SUMMARY: "We got a visitor, Vince." Bo said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, watching Vincent work. The latest sculpture was of a woman in a flapper dress, perfect for the House of Wax. He nodded, assuming it was just Lester. Though he didn't see a reason why Bo would bother him just for that. So, regrettably, he looked up from his work. "They got kids."

WARNING: mentioned child abuse

Sighing, you hit your head on the wheel with an exhausted groan. The Louisiana heat had been suffocating you ever since the AC sputtered to nothing a few hours ago. You'd left the windows open to prevent frying the inside of the car but it was still too hot. Even after living here for a few years, you never got used to the heat. It was fall for god's sake…

You lifted your head and tried to blink back the drowsiness aching behind your eyes. Driving for a week now had exhausted you and the heat wasn't doing you any favors. Everything felt warm and sleepy, making it difficult to focus on the road. A glance at your gas tank only made you groan. Nearly empty tank with no cell phone reception and two kids to take care of.

Speaking of kids, you glanced at the rearview mirror. Your twin boys - Peter and Michael - were passed out in their carseats and dead to the world. They were good kids, rarely fussy, and full of energy. They were why you'd been on the road for so long. You'd fled home with whatever belongings you could pack in your car and never looked back. Seeing their peaceful faces reminded you that it had been the right decision. Watching your ex husband strike Mikey for "misbehaving" had been your last straw. They were only two years old and he expected them to just simply know what behaviors were acceptable without teaching them anything.

He'd been the one who wanted kids yet showed no real interest in parenting. That had all been on you.

Which led you to where you were: off a dirt backroad in the middle of nowhere with the sun setting in an hour. If it had just been you, you would have sucked it up and walked to the nearest town in search of help. But with two toddlers, the feat seemed impossible. You didn't want them getting lost or hurt in the dark with no way of you helping them.

You got out of the car to survey your situation. The road you were on was mainly dirt and not well traveled. You hadn't even been certain they were roads if not for the signs just before you'd turned. Grass grew in wild, untamed patches and stretched out into a field to your left while the forest was close to your right. The trees offered minimal shade but were better than nothing. At least it was cooler under them instead of your hot car. But the prospect of sleeping in the dirt didn't sit well with you. Who knows what animals were even out there.

You pressed the heel of your hands to your eyes and tried not to cry. This was absolutely the worst possible thing that could have happened. If your husband was following you, which he most certainly was, then it was only a matter of time until he found you.

So you slid down the side of your car to sit against the wheel and curl in on yourself. It had been awhile since you cried since your husband would slap you for it, threatening to give you something to really cry about. You'd only withstood the abuse for so long because you didn't want Peter and Mikey to grow up in broken homes. But after you noticed they were being hit, you couldn't stay still. It had still been hard and you kept second guessing yourself all week if you were doing the right thing.

Hopefully you were.

A few hours passed before your luck changed. The sun had just begun to set, painting the skies in pinks and purples like a beautiful watercolor painting. It was finally cooler out now too, the breeze brushing your arms and face periodically. You'd just finished feeding the boys whatever food you had left in the duffle bags still and had decided to let them play in the little clearing nearby. You'd all been cooped up in your tiny car for days and you could tell they needed a break. They promised to stay close to you, running around nearby with sticks and their toys. Peter roared, running up to you with a tiny blue T-rex in hand. "'m gon' eat you!" He giggled.

You scooped him up and held him in your lap, watching his brother poking at the dirt with a stick. "Mikey, don't wander too far okay?" 

Mikey didn't answer and you sighed. He always had problems listening, always content to drift off in his own world without a second thought. You'd read a book about childhood trauma and worried about Mikey sometimes. You stood up and were about to approach him when you heard the sound of a car rumbling. You'd never understood the phrase "your life flashes before your eyes" but in that moment you did. "Mikey!" You shouted, white-hot horror shooting through you. "Peter, get in the car!" 

As soon as Peter squirmed out of your arms, you shot off like a rocket towards Mikey. His wide, terrified eyes were trained on the car headlights, which felt like a spotlight as you picked him up. The ground was illuminated with bright white light, making it impossible to hide from whoever this was. You practically threw Mikey into the car, slamming the door behind him and locking them inside.

The truck came to a stop and you faced it, squeezed your eyes tight, and prepared for the worst.

You heard the sound of the car door open and you turned to face the figure. When he finally stepped into the light, you nearly cried from relief. It wasn't your ex nor any of his friends. You felt your knees give out as a sob wracked your body, the adrenaline crash hitting you hard.

"Woah, woah!" The guy said, hurrying over and crouching in front of you. "Hey, it's alrigh', I ain't gon' hurt'cha." His voice was calm, the southern drawl making your eyes feel heavy. The headlights obscured a lot of your vision but you could make out his face. He was a little scruffy, covered in dirt, and looking at you with more concern than anyone had looked at you with in quite some time. "Shh, it's alrigh', you're okay…" You could tell he was scrambling, unsure how to help you but desperate to do so.

"S-sorry," you babbled through broken sobs. You didn't know what else to say and you couldn't stop the tears. "I- I thought you were- I'm sorry, my ex, he-"

He took you in his arms, hugging you to his chest. He was warm and smelt of dirt and rot but you didn't even care. You couldn't remember the last time you'd been hugged. Over the years, your ex had isolated you from your friends and most of your family so you knew it had likely been a good few years. So you wrapped your arms around his neck and sobbed.

But he didn't falter. "Shh, 's okay, you're okay. I gotcha." He rubbed slow circles in your back and smiled down at you, like an angel come to save you. "Y'ain't gotta 'pologize. I ain't mad."

You sniffed, wiping your eyes and leaning back slightly to look at him better. Definitely scruffy but charming in his own way. The look on his face was impossibly soft, so unfamiliar to you yet you craved that gentleness. "Sorry, I, um, I'm on the run. My ex, he, uh… Well, doesn't matter now. I got myself and my boys out 'n that's what matters."

The stranger's eyes widened slightly. Bright and pretty and you felt safe under his gaze, for some reason. "Your boys?"

You nodded and started to stand. He didn't hesitate to offer his arm, letting you steady yourself on him when you felt your head swim. "Yeah, they're in the car. Probably scared 'em shitless with my screaming." Your legs felt unsteady when you walked and you didn't miss the way the guy hovered, like he was braced to catch you if you fell. It was sweet.

You swung your car door open and the boys peered up at you, scrambling to try and hide their animal crackers. "Boys," you sighed, "What did I say about desserts?"

"To ask." Peter said plainly, too distracted by the stranger. "You're dirty, mister."

"Peter-!" You gasped, ready to apologize on his behalf.

But the man just laughed, clapping his hands together in his amusement. "Yeah, yeah, y'ain't wrong lil guy. Been workin' all day, hauling dead stuff 'round."

Peter looked morbidly intrigued, scooting closer to whisper like the two of them were sharing a secret. "Like… dead people?"

"Nah, nah, nothin' like that." The guy knelt down to talk with him easier, lowering his voice as well. "Animals who, uh, get hit by cars. Ain't got anyone to take care'a them, ain't like pets. So I come 'round 'n clean 'em up off the road."

Nodding slowly, Peter reached behind him and held out one of his dinosaur toys. "Have ya seen one'a these?"

The man seemed bewildered but offered him a sincere smile. "Nah, but, uh, if I do, I'll let'cha know, 'kay?"

Peter seemed satisfied with that answer and went back to his crackers. "I never got your name." You said as the man stood back up.

"Name's Lester." He gave you a gap-toothed grin, tilting his cap in a greeting. "Was headin' back home 'n saw yer car. Figured I'd come check on ya."

You smiled, hugging yourself shyly. "I, uh, ran outta gas. And with the boys, I can't exactly walk for help. No cell service either."

Lester frowned, scratching at his face as he seemed to think it over. He surveyed the three of you before looking out towards the setting sun. "Well, I ain't usually do this," he drawled slowly, "But there's a town nearby. 's called Ambrose. Could drive ya there so y'all could sleep for the night. An' in the mornin', we can swing by the gas station 'n get some gas for yer car."

"Really?" You stared at him with your mouth agape. "You- You'd help? Wh-what's the catch?" You couldn't accept he'd do this for nothing. If being with your ex taught you anything it's that no one was good for no good reason.

He smiled again, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Ain't no catch, honest. Jus' breaks my heart to see ya so freaked out."

You rubbed your arms nervously. "Sorry. I, um, thought you were my ex…"

Lester's face screwed up. "Well, whoever he is, hope he goes to hell if he'd scare ya that badly, sweetpea." 

Sweetpea was new. You felt your face warm up and you looked away shyly. He seemed trustworthy and he was cute, in a scruffy boyish way. You liked him. "I- I really appreciate it, Lester."

"'Course. Got two brothers'a my own so I get it." He watched you open your trunk and shuffle the bags around. "They ain't as well behaved as yer boys though."

Shouldering two of the bags, you snorted. "Yeah, you see 'em when its bathtime, then talk to me 'bout behaving."

The two of you were able to move most of your belongings along with the boy's car seats without issue. The truck smelt of rot and you scrunched your nose up when you spotted the dead deer in the back. "Sorry," Lester said, noticing your gaze. "Was workin' when I caught'cha. I promise everythin' in the car is clean though."

"It's okay." The smile you gave him was genuine even if he seemed surprised by it. "You're helping me. I ain't gonna shame you for your work. 'sides, someone's gotta do it, y'know?"

Lester, incredibly, gave you a surprised little smile as he watched you round up the boys. "Yeah. Yeah. You get it."

"The car smells weird." Peter said bluntly as you fastened him into his seat. Mikey had gone quietly, only squirming a little to voice his discomfort at being buckled in. He never liked confined spaces.

"Be nice, Peter." You shot him a look. "Lester's being kind to us, be kind to him, yeah?"

Peter glanced over at the man and smiled, all gap toothed and sweet. "Thank you for helpin' Mr Lester."

"'Course, lil man." Lester said, climbing into the front seat and rooting around in the glovebox. "Always happy to help." 

You climbed into the passenger seat beside Lester and felt the truck rumble to life. The truck was clearly old but you could tell Lester loved it dearly and took good care of it. Even if the engine shook the whole frame. The homemade charms littered with bones and feathers rattled like raindrops and he let out a little cheer. From out of the glovebox, he pulled out an old air freshener that smelt of disgustingly fake pine and strung it over the rearview mirror. "Best I got for the smell, sorry." He said with a sideways smile.

Your heart clenched. He was so kind to you for no reason and you almost teared up from the sweet gesture alone. "Thank you."

The truck rattled and the skull sitting on the dashboard unnerved you but you brushed it off. He worked with dead animals, something about it all just made sense. The boys didn't seem to care too much, happily nodding off only ten minutes into your drive.

"So how old're they?" Lester asked in a hushed voice, trying to not wake them.

"Just turned two a few months back. Twins, if you can believe it." You chuckled, sparing the boys a glance. They weren't identical in the slightest which you were slightly grateful for. You didn't want to be one of those parents who dressed their twins to look even more the same. "But, um, I guess they got to be too much for my ex. Managed to get out 'bout a week ago and we've been on the road since."

You felt Lester glance at you, giving you a once over. Unlike with most men, you didn't find yourself repulsed by his gaze. "He put his hands on ya?"

Shrugging, you turned your attention to the window to watch the trees. The sky was slowly getting darker, making them look like just black voids. At that moment, you became hyper aware of the ring still on your finger. The compulsion to throw it out the window was strong. "Yeah. A few times." You confessed quietly, closing your eyes to keep yourself from crying again. "More the boys than me, which kills me."

You didn't miss the way Lester's hands clutched the wheel tighter. "Well, there's a special place in hell for people like that. 's fuckin' repulsive." He grumbled that last part, like he didn't want the boys to hear it.

It made you laugh though. "You're right… It's just refreshing to hear." You tried to swallow around a lump in your throat. "All his friends were the only friends I had. Was allowed to have. And none of them were interested in helping me, much less believe me."

Lester scoffed. "Scumbags, the lotta'em. What happened ain't your fault, sweetpea don't let any of 'em get in your pretty lil' head that you did anythin' wrong." He paused, chewing on his lip before sighing. "My dad, he wasn't always the kindest to my brother. An' don't go telling this to nobody, ya hear? But I always hated folks who can jus' hurt their loved ones and keep goin' 'bout their damn business. Like it ain't botherin' em."

You knew he was right. It still brought tears to your eyes to have someone believe you. Someone who had no idea what your situation was and he was still defending you. Like your ex had no reason good enough for Lester to even ask about.

You definitely liked Lester.

"Town's just up this way," he said softly. The sight of streetlights was almost relieving to you after a long day of being on the road, hopping from gas station to gas station and only stopping at motels long enough to sleep. "Might get a lil' bit bumpy." 

Bumpy was an understatement. You almost thought you'd crashed as you felt the wheels bounce against rocks, shaking the car so violently you felt sick. Your arm shot out to try and catch your balance against the window and you only let out a breath when the truck came to a complete stop.

You and Lester shared a wide-eyed look. "Forgot to lay the planks down." 

Nothing about it was funny. But after the evening you had, you couldn't help but laugh. A genuine laugh. Something you hadn't done in a long time.

When Mikey began to cry from being woken up so violently, Lester got to him before you could. "Shh, s'alright lil' man, go back to sleep, shhh." He reached behind his seat to brush at his knee. "Sorry, almost there bud, jus' a bit further."

Eventually, Mikey settled back down, sniffling until he fell back asleep. When Lester sat back in his seat, he noticed your staring. "You have kids of your own or something? You're a natural at that."

He looked embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck with a shy chuckle. "Nah, but, uh, used to babysit 'round here. Was always good with kids, I s'pose."

With the car on paved roads now, the drive up to the town was smooth. As expected of a tiny town, nobody was outside. The lights in the little shops were out and the houses were all dark. Except one house atop a hill, lit up like a lighthouse in a sea of darkness. Lester drove towards it and pulled to a stop just outside. It was a modest house, paint peeling off in places along the outside and cobwebs in high places of the awning over the door. "What's this place?" You asked as you quickly followed Lester out of the car. You were incredibly appreciative of Lester’s good deed but his car did smell like rotten meat. 

Hopefully he wouldn’t be too offended.

"Family home. Inn's prolly closed for the night but I betcha my brothers'll let ya stay for the night." Lester said as he opened the backseat and began to undo the straps of Mikey's car seat.

You were struck silent. "I- Lester I can't impose on your-"

There wasn't any time to protest as the front door swung open. A large man stood there, dressed in a mechanics jumpsuit and wearing a hat over thin curly hair. "Les? The hell's this?"

Lester smiled all innocently, like this was a perfectly normal thing for him to do. "Heya Bo. Brought guests."

Bo stared you both down before running a hand over his face in exasperation. "When I toldja to come by for dinner, I ain't meaning to bring your pretty lil' girlfriend with ya."

You blushed and stammered but Lester spoke up, lifting a sleeping Mikey into his arms like he was a precious artifact. Bo took notice and his eyes widened at the sight. "I, uh," he stammered inelegantly. "What's with the, uh…"

"His name's Mikey." You mumbled, suddenly feeling unwelcome. It wasn't uncommon for people to look at you strangely for the twins, like they were some curse. Or maybe it was just your exes friends who felt like that.

Bo nodded slowly. "Mikey. Right." He looked at Lester and stepped aside, letting him pass into the house with your baby. "Well then. You folks like lasagna?" 

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Whenever Les comes to visit for the eve, Vince always makes lasagna. Easy for him to take home 'n whatnot." Bo gave you a warm smile as he approached you slowly, like he was afraid you'd bolt. "If my lil' brother thinks you're good people… Well, I'm obliged to trust him. He ain't ever been wrong."

You watched Bo grab the bags you brought, only hesitating when he saw Peter, also fast asleep. "Sorry, um, I can-" You stuttered, reaching for the bags in Bo's hands.

He held onto them though, tilting his head towards Peter. "Don't even think 'bout it. You just bring your lil' one in. The gentlemanly thing to do is carry the bags." Bo gave you a flirtatious wink and went back inside.

You were left standing in the chilly, night air. The only light came from the inside of the house, which bathed the front porch and gravel walkway in warm, yellow light. You were cold and confused and absolutely exhausted. A part of you screamed against all instinct to accept their help, to trust these strangers. It had been so long since you'd trusted anyone, after all. You were desperate.

So you did.

Peter was already blinking awake from his short nap when you pushed the screen door open more and took in the house. It was a comfortable state of disarray. Throw pillows were propped against the couch at odd angles, family photographs decorated the walls in mismatched frames, and the room smelt of meat, cheese, and marinara sauce.

Lester and Bo's heads snapped to look at you. They'd clearly been whispering but they both smiled at you when you entered. Mikey was sitting on the couch, still a little bleary eyed, curled up against one of the velvety throw pillows that looked rustic and homemade. You sat Peter down beside him, brushing hair from their sleepy faces, and tried to ignore the brothers whispering. "Sorry," you mumbled as you approached them.

They both seemed surprised. "Why're you sorry?" Bo asked with a frown. "Y'ain't got nothin' to be sorry 'bout."

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, hung head low like a child being scolded. Fawn, your brain screamed. Fawn and they won't hurt you. "'m intruding with two kids, I- I know I'm not supposed to have come here, I just- Lester said the inn was closed, I didn't know where else to go, my car broke down-"

Lester cut your spiraling off by taking your hand and squeezing gently, grounding you. "Hey, hey, sweetpea," he kept his voice low and soothing, "We're happy to have ya. All three'a ya. Honest."

Bo nodded along, frowning at how quickly you retreated inwards. Lester had mentioned to him very briefly while you were outside about how your ex laid hands on you and the boys. It was what got him fully on board with offering you help. So seeing you like this broke his heart just that little bit more.

"I'm gonna go talk to Vince, let him know we got guests." Bo said as he swung open the basement door. "Les, make sure our guests are comfortable, yeah?"

Lester nodded, humming his agreement as he pulled you to his chest for a hug. You went willingly, your hands curled up in the fabric of his shirt as he hooked his arms around your shoulders. "Yeah, I got 'em." He said, shooting his brother a smile as he hugged you.

Bo nodded and descended to the basement.

Vincent hated to be disturbed while working. His brothers especially knew how entranced he'd get in a project, focused on perfecting every piece. Their mother had made him an incredible artist, which often meant he'd neglect everything, even himself, for the sake of his work. Oftentimes, Lester or Bo had to come downstairs to make sure he didn't collapse from exhaustion or dehydration. Especially when summer hit and the basement's heat was suffocating.

So Vincent didn't even lift his head when Bo came to a stop in the entryway, too focused on mending a crack in the cheek of his sculpture. "We got a visitor, Vince." Bo said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, watching Vincent work. The latest sculpture was of a woman in a flapper dress, perfect for the House of Wax. 

He nodded, assuming it was just Lester. Though he didn't see a reason why Bo would bother him just for that. So, regrettably, he looked up from his work.

"They got kids."

And that made Vincent straighten up. "Kids?" He signed slowly, like he wasn't sure he heard him right.

"Yeah." Bo said through a sigh. "Two lil' guys. Too old for breastfeedin' but too young for preschool. Hard to say though, been awhile since any of us were that old." He chucked humorlessly.

Vincent looked towards the wax figure slowly. "We promised Lester we wouldn't hurt children."

Bo nodded, looking annoyed. "Yeah, yeah, I know. They're a pretty lil' thing too. Would be perfect for the museum, but, of course, Lester found 'em first."

"They can't see me," Vincent suddenly became frantic. "The children will be afraid."

The other man winced, hissing through his teeth. "Sorry bro, already promised your cookin' tonight." But Bo didn't seem that remorseful, even when his twin leveled him with an unimpressed look. "When's dinner, by the way?"

"What time is it?" Vincent signed, finally aware of the passage of time. It was easy to get lost in his work, though he promised himself he'd only come down for a few minutes to double check something. But it was easy for him to get lost.

"'s only quarter past 9. Why?"

Vincent finally moved, hurrying past. Bo was only able to make out "oven" before his brother was out of sight.

Thankfully, nothing was burnt. Vincent hadn't even spared you a glance yet, too focused on not burning the house down. Once the food was set atop the stove to cool down, he turned around to face you.

You were sat on the couch with Lester and the boys, who were trying their best to stay awake. "You must be Vincent," you said with a sniff. You knew your eyes were red from crying. Lester had sat with you, holding you while you wept. It was hard, feeling cared for. Especially by strangers.

Pain was familiar. This kindness overwhelmed you.

Vincent became shy when you addressed him, hiding behind long hair and doing his best to keep out of your sight. But Bo, never one to let his twin have peace, grabbed his arm to keep him from hiding. "Yep, managed to finally pull 'im outta that basement for dinner. Whaddya say, Vinny? You up for a proper meal with our guests?"

If looks could kill, Bo would have erupted into flames, reduced to ashes on the carpet. "Do I have a choice?" Vincent signed, managing to look annoyed even behind his mask.

"Nah." Bo smiled, all teeth and no kindness. "You set the table, I'll get enough chairs ready."

Lester turned to you, brushing stray tears away. His heart hurt when you'd started bawling after Bo left, babbling to him that you felt horrible for intruding and forcing his family to help you just because of the kids. He swore if he ever got his hands on your ex, they'd wish Vince or Bo had gotten to them first. "You okay?" He asked you gently, giving you what he hoped was a sincere smile.

You nodded, sniffing once. "Yeah, um, sorry for-"

"If you 'pologize to me for cryin', I'mma beat the ever lovin' shit outta your ex, sweetpea." Lester said, relishing in your chuckle. "We're happy to help ya, really."

Sniffing again, you nodded and wiped your eyes. "I really appreciate it. More than I think you know."

The look he gave you was impossibly soft. Like you were something precious. Lester's hand cupped your face as he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, making your mouth fall open in surprise. "You deserve it, sweetpea. Y'really do." 

Bo coughed, making Lester roll his eyes. The two shared pointed looks before Bo turned to you. "Your lil' ones need high chairs or, uh, somethin'?"

You glanced down at the boys and sighed. "I think they're down for the count."

"You can use my room upstairs." Lester said. "I ain't sleep there much anymore so it oughta be clean." Before you could even think to protest, he tapped your nose. "And don't you get all apologetic on me. I wouldn't offer it if it weren't alright."

Honestly, you were a bit relieved to get to sleep in a real bed. So you thanked them quietly, gathered the boys up in your arms, and carried them upstairs. "Second door on the right," Bo called up after you.

As soon as your footsteps couldn't be heard on the creaky wooden stairs anymore, Lester was the first to speak. "I hope you two ain't forgotten your promise."

"Lester, I toldja to find someone for the museum-" Bo hissed, anger sharp on his face.

But the younger Sinclair didn't back down. "If Mama knew you two'd killed two lil' boys, whaddya think she'd do? She'd say somethin' 'bout how if someone took y'all from her, she'd raise hell."

"Don't bring Mama into this." Bo glared daggers at Lester.

Vincent knocked on the countertop to get their attention. "He's right. We made a promise."

"We can't fuckin' keep 'em here!" Bo said, careful to keep his voice down.

"Don't gotta." Lester said, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. "They ran outta gas. Let 'em stay the night, drop 'em back off at their car, they'll go on. Ain't no trouble."

Bo groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. "Why do you even care so bad?"

Lester flushed, blotchy pink spots on his cheeks, and shrugged. "They're nice. 'n I feel bad. Their ex laid hands on those lil' babies an' I'd do anything to get five minutes alone with that sonuvabitch."

Vincent's eyes widened. "You didn't mention that!" He signed harshly at Bo.

"Didn't exactly have a moment to tell ya." He sighed with obvious frustration. "Fine, alright, we keep 'em for one night. They're gone in the mornin', ya hear?"

The three of them were quiet for awhile, listening to your footsteps overhead as you set the boys up in Lester's old room. "Swear on Mama," Lester said, keeping his voice low, "That I ain't gonna be seein' any lil' boy statues."

"Lester-!" Bo hissed.

"Swear!" Lester shot back. The two were up in each other's faces at this point.

Vincent, ever the peacemaker, knocked on the counter again. "We swear on Mama."

"Don't fuckin' speak for me, freak!" Bo huffed. But Vincent fixed him with a glare and he sighed in defeat. "Fine. Swear on Mama. Ain't nothin' gonna happen to those three."

The youngest seemed satisfied. At that moment, you came back down the stairs, frowning slightly when you noticed them. "Everything okay?" You asked as though sensing the tension in the room.

"Yep!" Lester said with a wide grin. "Hungry?"

"Starving." You smiled back. 

Dinner was awkward at first, especially since you struggled to understand Vincent. But Bo and Lester happily translated and conversation began to flow easier, which you were grateful for.

"So, how long has it just been the three of you?" You asked as you took a bite out of the lasagna. Warm and cheesy and exactly what you needed after a week of gas station food.

Bo hummed as he swallowed. "'Bout ten years now. Went by in a blip, feels like."

"Oh," you frowned, "What happened? If, um, I can ask."

Vincent nodded, still nervously picking at his food. You'd noticed he only ate when you weren't looking so he could lift the mask, which saddened you. He seemed like a nice guy and you wondered what happened in the past to make him hide his face. But you did your best to look away periodically to give him a chance to eat and hopefully let him know it was fine. He probably got enough grief for it as is, you didn't need to add on.

Judging by the slowly disappearing food on his plate, you figured that was the right thing to do.

"Mama got sick. Real sick." Bo sighed sadly. "She was a really great artist, losing her hit the town hard."

"I'm sorry." You said gently. But Lester was the only one of the brothers who seemed sad. Something about that confused you. Why wouldn't they miss their parents?

You took a bite of the food. That wasn't your business.

Vincent began talking about his art then. Bo seemed to roll his eyes and ignored his signing, uninterested in translating. But Lester picked it up in his place, helping his brother talk about his art. He enjoyed painting in his free time but he primarily sculpted with wax.

Your eyes widened in surprise. "You sculpt?"

"Vinny's the main artist in the House of Wax down the street." Bo nodded, answering for him. "Maybe t'morrow we'll take you 'n the boys to see it."

Vincent fidgeted with the ends of his hair, clearly embarrassed. You shot him a warm smile. "I'm sure Vincent's art is great. I look forward to it."

Once dinner was over, Bo and Lester disappeared into the living room with a couple of beers so you and Vince had the chance to wash dishes. The peaceful white noise of the running water and the simple swirling of washing dishes was nice after a long day. Vincent helped, taking whatever dish you passed him and drying it, setting it aside on the nearby dishrack.

He seemed to appreciate the silence. You almost wished you knew sign language so you could talk to him beyond yes or no questions. But you tried to ignore the shock you felt when your fingers brushed sometimes.

If he noticed, he didn't bring it up.

The soft sound of crying alarmed you. You spun around and saw Mikey standing in the doorway of the kitchen, sniffing and sobbing silently. He cried for you and ran towards you, wailing for comfort. You'd barely dried your hands before you were reaching down, scooping him up into your arms. "Shhh, it's okay," you soothed him gently, Mikey had always been the more sensitive one. Waking up in a new, unfamiliar place must have startled him, you thought to yourself as you swayed with him gently.

He nodded, whimpering. "Scared."

"I can imagine." You kissed his cheek gently, rocking him like you'd done when he was an infant, needing to be settled before bed. "It's okay baby, you're alright," you repeated the mantra over and over as you heard Vincent turn off the water behind you.

Hearing his heavy footsteps behind you, you turned to face him and shifted Peter so he could see him. The tall man blinked slowly at Peter, tilting his head curiously at your son. "Mikey,, this is Vincent. He and his brothers are letting us spend the night so you and Peter can sleep in a bed." 

Mikey seemed to consider this before reaching up to try and touch Vincent's face. "Hi," he whispered.

Vincent flinched slightly but didn't step back. Instead, he offered his hand for the young boy to grab at. Mikey giggled as he grabbed at Vincent's fingers and hand, seemingly satisfied. "Did you wake your brother?" You asked after a moment and winced when your son nodded. "Where did he wander off to?"

"Over here," You turned your head to see Peter half asleep slumped against Bo, barely even keeping his eyes open. Neither of the men seemed bothered though. Bo even raised his beer bottle jokingly, "Seems he's ready to get drinkin' already." He teased and you snorted.

"God I wish they'd just stay small forever. I can't even imagine them starting school yet, much less drinking." You paled at the mere thought. It seemed like only yesterday they were just born and now you felt nauseous whenever you think about them starting kindergarten. Being away from your kids for extended periods of time felt terrifying.

You were pulled from your thoughts by Vincent signing something to you. Shit. Luckily, Lester translated from his seat on the couch, "He's askin' if ya want help bringin' em upstairs?"

Blinking a few times, you nodded at Vincent with a smile. "Yeah, I'd appreciate it! Here," you adjusted Mikey before passing the toddler into Vincent's arms carefully, "just support him here," you guided his arms to the right spaces and ignored the way your heart melted seeing him asleep in someone's arms. Reminded you of easier times before you and your partner split. "Lemme grab Peter and we can head upstairs." Vincent nodded to you and waited patiently by the stairs as you stole Peter back from Bo.

You felt the pair's eyes on you as you wished them goodnight from over your shoulder and headed upstairs with Vincent trailing behind. He carried Mikey like he was fragile, breakable, and you found it incredibly endearing. You set Peter down onto the bed, nestled back in the little blanket fort to prevent them from rolling off the bed, kissing him softly goodnight. Vincent mirrored your actions with Mikey and just stroked his cheek with his thumb in lieu of a kiss. "Thanks for your help. All three of you," you whispered to him. Vincent looked at you, shadows hiding his eyes from you. "It means the world to me that you're all willing to help. I know the boys appreciate it too." You smiled at him as you stood quietly. "I should get to bed," you trailed off and Vincent nodded but didn't leave the room.

Instead, he reached his hand out towards you before tilting his head, asking permission. You gave him a curious nod and felt his hand touch your cheek, stroking under your eye like he'd done to Mikey. "Night Vincent," you whispered and ignored how your face warmed up.

He shut the door as he stepped out of the room,padding down to rejoin his brothers in the living room. None of them said a word to each other but they all had the same thought: they wanted you to stay.

The next morning, Bo collected your car and brought it to the gas station to fill back up. You'd chatted about your plans to keep going west when he'd mentioned missing you. "Place jus' feels more lively with you 'round, s'all." He'd shrugged, feigning nonchalance. 

You'd gestured to the empty streets before climbing into the passenger's seat. "You sure that ain't just because this town is quiet as is?"

Bo just gave you a smile. 

When you tried to start your car, it seemed to spur, dead. "What the-?"

"Everythin' alright?" He asked, leaning against the window frame.

"It sounds like the battery's dead?" You frowned, trying again to start the car.

Bo jerked his head, urging you to follow him. "Lemme take a look." You followed him around to the hood of your car and he flipped it open. He hummed as he looked around, face screwing up in surprise. "Your fan belt tore."

"My what?" You blinked owlishly at him. He gave you a look of bewilderment and you just sighed. "You definitely know more about cars than me."

He snorted at you and slammed the hood closed. "I don't think I got any in the shop but I could order one for ya and have it in a few days."

That wouldn't do. "I- I need to get back on the road soon." Panic began to rise in your chest and tighten your throat. "If we're found here, then I'd have to…" You didn't want to think about it, you said to yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut. Obviously you had a plan if you got caught but you really, really, didn't want it to come to that.

Bo nudged you gently and gave you a warm smile. "Hey, we'll look out for ya. Ain't no one gonna hurt'cha here in Ambrose. Not get many tourists anywhere, doubt they'd think to look for ya here."

You sighed. You didn't exactly have much of a choice. If your car wouldn't start, you'd just have to wait.

The two of you were walking back to the house and you felt Bo kept glancing at you. Right before you were going to ask about it, he spoke up. "I know ya wanna go see the House of Wax. Which is all fine 'n good, but ya gotta know somethin' 'fore you go there."

"Sure..?" You said plainly.

Bo sighed loudly, rubbing his hand over his mouth. "So, when Mama got sick, Vince had been away at a real good art college." You nodded along to show you were listening. Bo looked guilty. "When she got worse, I needed help takin' care'a her. Lester and I were away workin' and she needed someone at home. So, uh, near her end…" He sighed again. "I called him back home. It's, uh, still a sore spot. Wasn't able to go back, since he got in on scholarships. An' we didn't have the funds anyway, her bills were too much."

The silence was deafening. "I'm sorry." You said, at a loss for words. "I- I won't bring it up then."

"I 'preciate it. He an' I don't talk 'bout it anymore. If he goes with ya, just don't ask."

You nodded, giving Bo a small smile. "I'm sure he doesn't blame you for it."

The man smiled back at you but you could see it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah. Maybe."

Taking a small sidestep, you bumped your shoulders together. "I know so."

Later that night, things changed.

You'd gone to bed after showering and bathing the boys, the three of you all fast asleep in the bedroom. Vincent and Bo had gone to their own rooms while Lester slept on the couch. None of you heard the two cars that pulled into the town, driving slowly down the streets looking for any sign of life. After no luck at the first few houses, a small group of people approached the Sinclair's house, heavy footfalls making the little porch staircase creak under the stress.

They knocked on the front door and a dog could be heard barking in the backyard.

Lester had stumbled awake in surprise, his brain taking a minute to catch up. No one should be at the door because nobody else was alive in Ambrose. He still went to the door, opening it with a tired yawn. "Yeah?"

A man smiled at him, an acidic look that made bile burn the back of Lester's throat. "I'm looking for someone. Do you happen to know if there's been someone visiting your town?"

Freezing, Lester immediately recognized the man. Even though they'd never met face to face, he knew everything about this man. All child abusers look the same, Lester thought as he recalled his father. They all look like scum.

"Well, I ain't too sure. I work the night shift, I jus' got home. But my brother Bo might'a seen 'em. He works down at the autoshop." He said through a yawn. 

"I'd hope so. Considering their car is in his shop." The man smiled, trying to force his way into the door, calling your name.

Lester shoved him back, slamming the door and locking it with a loud thud. He ignored your ex's screaming as he ran up the stairs. 

Bo was opening his door before Lester could even knock. "The hell're you-?!"

"Guests." Lester panted, frozen in place as he kept an ear out in case your door opened. "Their ex is here."

His brother's eyes widened and he stormed to Vincent's door, knocking once before opening. He tore the blankets off Vincent and shook him viciously. "Get up, get the knives, we got intruders."

Vincent snapped awake, blinking through sleep-mussed hair. "Mm?" He said around his exhausted yawn.

"Intruders! Vince! Now!" Bo snapped. "I'll get my shotgun. You helpin' out, Les?"

Lester huffed, thinking it over. "Y'know I ain't a killer, right?"

Bo didn't have time for this. "You helpin' or NOT, Les?"

The younger brother sighed. "Does dad still keep a spare gun in his office?"

"Did he ever stop?" Bo said with a smirk, pulling his boots on his feet.

Vincent stumbled to his feet, putting his own boots on to sneak back down into the basement. If he went down and through the House of Wax, they could pin the group down. Bo'd meet them head on while Lester slipped around the side of the house to catch the strays. They vowed to make quick work of all of them but save your ex for last.

The Sinclair brothers were going to protect you. No matter what.

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

GUILTY AS SIN...? - PART II

summary: one summer with the man you can't have, but can't stop thinking about.

pairing: cillian murphy x popstar!reader

word count: 9.1k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). explicit sex. angst. cussing, slight age gap, mentions of alcohol and divorce. no use of y/n, heavily inspired by ts and ttpd. if i missed something please let me know. (also this is a work of fiction, none of it reflects how i feel about the people mentioned in this, most importantly cillian's wife, who im sure is a sweetheart irl. it's fiction, just relax and enjoy it, and if not, move along, friends.)

a/n: hi everyone! here's the second part, finally. i had lots of fun writing this one, happy reading <3

part one

After staying at Cillian's for awhile, you decided to go to the place you had rented. The truth is, you didn't want to leave, but you had already extended your stay longer than planned, and you wanted to give him space with his kids. And you also wanted to give him time to process the event that took place four nights ago in his bathroom. Or you wanted to give yourself time to process it.

At this point, you weren't sure who needed the space more.

It was all very confusing because, yes, you've had feelings for him for God knows how long, but you've squashed them down like a stubborn bug for the sake of your friendship and, most importantly, his family. Those two things were always at the forefront of your mind, guiding every action and decision. But now that his family is no longer a factor and the two of you almost crossed a line, it's hard to ignore those feelings.

Those feelings that crawl up your spine every time he smiles at you or brushes against your hand accidentally. Those feelings also make you feel like the worst person in the world, as if you're betraying his ex-wife and their children by even entertaining the idea of something more with him.

It's all so delicate.

The cottage is nestled between rolling green hills and the glimmering blue of a distant sea. The place is like a warm embrace. The floors are laid with wide, honey-colored wooden planks, their surface worn smooth by generations of footsteps. Exposed wooden beams crisscross the ceiling, their rich, dark wood adding a sense of history and sturdiness to the space. The walls are painted in a soft, creamy white. The master bedroom is a haven of tranquility, with white linen curtains billowing softly in the breeze from the open window. The bed, with its wrought iron frame, is piled high with quilts and pillows in soft shades of blue and green. It's the best sleep you've had in months.

It rained earlier today. You've stayed inside all day, not wanting to venture out into the wet weather. The gentle pitter-patter of raindrops against the window was a soothing backdrop to your day, but it stopped around mid-afternoon, leaving behind a fresh, clean scent in the air.

Now you’re sitting at the rustic wooden table beneath the pergola, one leg tucked under you, grapevines overhead casting dappled shadows on the weathered wood. The garden around you is alive with color—wildflowers in every shade imaginable sway gently in the soft breeze, and the lavender and rosemary release their fragrant scent into the air.

Bon Iver’s voice drifts softly from your phone, which lies next to your notepad on the table. The music is haunting, its melancholy tones matching the weight in your chest. You’ve been here for hours, or maybe it’s only been minutes—time seems to blur together lately.

The notepad lies open beside you, filled with half-written lyrics, fragments of thoughts and emotions that you can’t quite bring yourself to finish. The pages are messy, scribbled lines crossed out, some words barely legible, as if your hand couldn’t keep up with the rush of thoughts.

You’ve been chasing this dream for so long—touring, recording, performing in front of thousands of people—but somewhere along the way, you’ve lost sight of why you started. The music that once brought you so much joy now feels like a burden; the words that once flowed effortlessly are now tangled up in doubt and frustration. The applause, the fame, the success—it’s all there, but it feels hollow. It feels lonely.

The sun is beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the water, but you’re too tired to move. You prop one leg up the chair and rest your chin on your hand. You focus on the water, trying to find some solace in its steady flow. But all you can feel is a deep, gnawing sense of unfulfillment, a yearning for something you can’t even name.

How pathetic.

You’re tired, so tired, and the dream that once seemed so bright now feels like a chore.

The door creaks open behind you, and you catch the faint sound of footsteps on the stone path. You don’t need to turn around to know it’s him. Cillian moves with a certain quietness, a soft presence that you’ve come to recognize. The footsteps grow closer until they stop just to your left.

"You should lock your door," he says, his voice low, carrying a hint of amusement but also concern.

You let out a small, tired laugh, not bothering to look up. "Didn’t think anyone would come by," you reply, your gaze still fixed on the stream; its gentle flow is the only thing that seems to make sense right now.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just stands there, his shadow blending with yours. Then he pulls out the chair next to you, the wood scraping softly against the stone, and sits down. You can feel his eyes on you, but he doesn’t press, just lets the silence settle around you both.

You hear him shift beside you, and from the corner of your eye, you see him glance down at the notepad on the table. His gaze lingers on the unfinished words, but he doesn’t say anything about them. Instead, he just leans back in his chair, looking out at the water with you.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally speaks, his voice softer, almost reflective. "I know that look. The one that says you’re miles away, stuck in your own head."

You don't respond, knowing that he understands you more than most people. The music on your phone shifts to another Bon Iver song, this time Beach Baby.

He continues. "You know, sometimes I think about all of it—this life, the fame, the roles I play. It’s bizarre, isn’t it? I spend so much time being someone else, living in someone else’s skin, that it’s easy to forget who I am when the cameras stop rolling."

His words hang in the air, and you turn your head slightly to look at him. His expression is thoughtful, his blue eyes distant, like he’s lost in his own memories. "It’s like… sometimes, I feel more like myself when I’m acting, when I’m being someone else. That's what made me fall in love with it in the first place. I just loved being somebody else. It’s easier, somehow. But then there are those moments, when the lights go out, and I’m just… me. And that’s when the loneliness creeps in."

You nod, understanding more than you’d like to admit. "It’s the same with music, I guess," you say quietly. "There’s this rush, this high, when you’re on stage, when everyone’s looking at you and you’re giving them everything you’ve got. But then it’s over, and you’re left with the silence, the emptiness. It’s like… who am I when it stops?"

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and you can see the shared understanding in his eyes. It’s a strange comfort knowing that someone else gets it, that you’re not alone in this feeling of being lost.

You take a deep breath, the weight of the words you’ve been holding back suddenly becomes too heavy to keep inside. "I guess that's why I'm here. To escape. To escape the pressure, the expectations and…just be," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Everything is a performance. Everything. When we're out in the world, we're expected to act a certain way, to fit into a mold. We have to edit ourselves. As honest as we try to be, there's always a part of us that remains hidden. And it's exhausting."

Cillian nods, his gaze never leaving yours. "And when you’re alone, you can let go of that and let your mind just be still," he says, his voice carrying the weight of someone who’s thought about this a lot. "It’s quite peaceful, isn’t it? But it’s also… terrifying. Being alone with your thoughts, with no distractions, no one to perform for. It’s like staring into a void sometimes."

You swallow hard, the truth of his words hitting you square in the chest. "Yeah, it is. But it’s also when I feel the most myself. When it’s just me, and I don’t have to be anything for anyone. Just… here, in the quiet, letting my mind rest."

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The garden around you is alive with the soft sounds of nature—the rustling of leaves, the gentle murmur of the stream, the distant call of a bird. Bon Iver’s music still plays from your phone—Holocene.

You break the silence. "Sometimes I think about it. I think about letting go of it." It's a terrifying thought but also strangely liberating. You don't know what it means completely yet, but just saying it out loud brings relief. Cillian just looks at you, his eyes reflecting understanding and empathy.

It was so easy, existing with him.

In this moment, you feel a little less lost, a little more understood. And as the sun dips lower in the sky, a mix of orange and pink hues, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re not as alone as you thought.

The next day dawns softer, brighter. You wake up with a sense of calm that had been missing for a while. There’s a lingering warmth from yesterday, the conversation with Cillian still playing in the back of your mind. As you sat at the same wooden table this morning, you found yourself scribbling lyrics that flowed easier, more naturally. They’re different—slower, more deliberate. There’s a depth to them that feels right, as if you’re finally tapping into something real, something honest.

Last night had ended quietly. After that heavy talk in the garden, Cillian stayed for dinner. The two of you kept the conversation light, avoiding the unspoken tension. It was there, hovering between you, but neither of you brought it up. Instead, you talked about mundane things and watched Punch-Drunk Love in the quaint living room. He pointed out every little detail he liked in it, and you listened, soaking in the emotion in his voice.

When the movie ended, he promised to see you the next day, and you reassured him it was fine, that you understood his absence. You meant it, even though a part of you always ached for more of his presence.

Today, with that newfound energy, you decided to venture out. An early morning walk turned into a drive to the nearby town. You pulled on a cap and sunglasses—a funny and somewhat ineffective disguise, but it was something. The town was charming, with narrow cobblestone streets, quaint shops, and a relaxed pace. Most people didn’t give you a second glance, and for that you were grateful. It was nice to blend in, to be just another person out enjoying the day.

You wandered through the market, admired the local crafts, and even picked up a few things—a handmade bracelet, a small painting of the Irish countryside. Lunch was at a cozy little café, tucked away from the main street. You ordered a hearty bowl of seafood chowder, rich and warming, with fresh bread on the side. As you sat there savoring the meal, your phone buzzed. It was Cillian, asking if you wanted to grab drinks tonight. You hesitated, your mind running through a dozen reasons to say no, but in the end, you agreed. You wanted to see him again, even if you couldn’t quite admit how much.

Back at the cottage, you took your time getting ready. You set the atmosphere, lighting a few candles, playing some soft music in the background. It felt good to take care of yourself and put a little effort into how you looked. You chose a pair of jeans that fit just right, a black top, and your favorite leather jacket. Casual but confident. A swipe of red lipstick added a touch of boldness.

You didn’t know where the night would take you, but you felt ready.

Cillian arrived right on time, his car rolling up the gravel drive just as you slipped on your jacket. When you stepped outside, he was already out of the car, leaning casually against the door. He smiled when he saw you—a warm, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“Ready?” he asked, his eyes flicking over your outfit with an appreciative glance.

“As I’ll ever be,” you replied, a hint of nerves bubbling up but quickly pushed aside.

The drive to the pub was easy, the conversation flowing effortlessly. You talked about your day, the town, the little things you’d picked up. He told you about his new movie coming out later this year, based on a novella set in the mid-1980s in a small Irish village. There was a comfort in the exchange, in the way your words mingled with the sound of the tires on the road.

When he pulled up outside the pub, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight. It was a small, unassuming place, the kind of spot that felt like a well-kept secret. The sign above the door was weathered, the windows glowing warmly from the inside. It looked cozy, inviting.

“Do I need to bring out my disguise?” you asked, amused, as you glanced at him.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, you’re safe here. No one’s going to bother us. I’ve been coming here for years. They don't give a shit about me.”

He was right. The pub was perfect—dimly lit, with a mix of old and new music playing in the background. The crowd was relaxed, more interested in their conversations than in who might be sitting at the next table. You found two empty stools at the bar and settled in.

Close to the drinks. Perfect.

You ordered beers—the kind that tasted awful but somehow fit the atmosphere. Cillian took a sip of his beer, and the reaction was immediate. He groaned, his head falling back as if in defeat, eyes closed as he savored—or perhaps endured—the taste. The dim light from the pub’s old-fashioned fixtures cast a warm glow on his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jawline and the shadow of stubble that had begun to form. His lips, still wet from the beer, parted in a wry smile that spoke volumes of his disdain for the drink. His brow furrowed slightly as he kept his eyes closed, letting out a deep, exaggerated sigh as if the beer was the worst thing he’d ever tasted.

It was a dramatic performance, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how absurdly handsome he looked even in that moment. There was something endearing about it—the way he could make something so ordinary seem so intense. His dark hair, slightly tousled, fell over his forehead, and you found yourself staring longer than you meant to.

“Bloody hell, that’s awful,” he muttered, finally opening his eyes and giving you a side glance. His blue eyes sparkled with trouble, the corners crinkling as he caught the expression on your face. “You should’ve seen yourself, though. Looked like you were trying to swallow glass.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, please. You looked like you were about to keel over from one sip,” you shot back, sarcasm lacing your voice.

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, and the amusement in his eyes deepened. “Can’t argue with that,” he admitted, taking another sip with a grimace. “Piss beer, this is. I’d almost prefer water.”

“Almost,” you teased, lifting your glass to take another drink. The foam clung to the rim as you sipped, and you made a point to keep your expression neutral, though you could feel the bitterness spreading across your tongue.

Cillian leaned in a bit closer, his Irish accent growing thicker with each drink. “But then, what would we have to complain about, eh? I think the shite beer is half the charm of this place.” His voice was smoother, more relaxed, and you noticed the way his words seemed to roll off his tongue, rich with the lilting cadence of his heritage. It was endearing, undeniably so, and you found it increasingly hard to focus on anything else.

“Is that what they call charm here? I must’ve missed the memo,” you quipped, smirking as you met his gaze. The clever back-and-forth felt natural, easy, and it warmed you more than the alcohol ever could.

“You’re lucky I’m here to explain it to ya,” he said, leaning in just a bit more, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “Otherwise, you might’ve gone your whole life without knowing the joys of terrible Irish beer.”

“Oh, I’m so grateful,” you shot back, sarcasm dripping from your words, but your smile gave you away. “I’ll add it to the list of things you’ve taught me.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying the banter, and you noticed how close he had gotten. His arm was now resting casually on the back of your seat, and every so often, your knees would brush, those accidental touches sending a small, electric thrill through you. The pub’s atmosphere, once filled with distant conversations and the clinking of glasses, now seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. The world outside the booth blurred away, and all that was left was Cillian’s presence, the sound of his voice, and the faint, intoxicating scent of him that mixed with the pub’s woody, earthy aroma.

The more you drank, the closer you both seemed to get, each sip loosening the barriers that had been in place. His laughter grew louder, more infectious, and his accent, more pronounced with every word, sent a shiver down your spine. It was more than just the alcohol—there was an ease between you that you hadn’t felt before, a sense of connection that went beyond the usual playful exchanges.

“Y’know,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he leaned in even closer. “I think I’m starting to like this beer.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curving into a smirk, feeling a little more brave. “Is that so? Or is it just the company?”

He chuckled, his breath warm against your ear as he replied, “Maybe a bit of both.”

A familiar flutter stirred in your chest—the undeniable pull that you’d been trying to ignore for days. But tonight, in this pub, with its terrible beer and terrible lighting, you decided you didn’t want to fight it anymore. Not here, not with him.

You moved on to something stronger, whiskey that burned going down but left a warmth spreading through your chest that felt as intoxicating as the alcohol itself. With each sip, the edges of your nerves smoothed out, and you felt looser, braver, and a little sexier. You sat on the bar stool with your body angled slightly toward Cillian. The leather of your jacket creaked as you shifted, the red of your lipstick standing out against the dim light. You felt his gaze on you, not just looking, but really seeing you, his eyes tracing the curve of your neck down to where your top dipped, lingering just a moment longer than usual.

His look was hungry, but it wasn’t just that—it was curious, intrigued. He rested his elbow on the bar, leaning closer, his knee brushing against yours as he picked up his glass, watching you over the rim as he took a sip. The whiskey seemed to bring out the blue in his eyes, making them sharp and piercing, but there was softness there too, an openness that had grown.

“You know,” you began, a small, knowing smile playing on your lips. “I was just thinking about the first time we met.”

His eyebrow arched in curiosity, and he leaned in a little closer, his interest piqued. “Oh yeah? That was… what, 7 years ago? At the Globes, wasn’t it?”

You nodded, taking another sip of your drink, the liquid courage giving you the confidence to broach the subject. “Yeah, that’s right. And you… well, let’s just say you weren’t exactly my biggest fan.”

Cillian looked taken aback, a surprised smile curving his lips. “What? I don’t remember it like that.”

“Oh, come on, Cill,” you said, playfully nudging his shoulder. “You kind of hated me."

He laughed, shaking his head. “I didn’t hate you. I just… I guess I had some preconceived notions about you."

“Preconceived notions?” you asked, a teasing glint in your eyes.

He hesitated, looking almost sheepish as he ran a hand through his hair. “Honestly? I thought you were this… I don’t know, shallow, self-absorbed person. Just someone who was there for the attention, you know?”

You let out a mock gasp, placing a hand over your heart in faux offense. “I’m wounded! I can’t believe you thought that about me, really.”

He chuckled, but there was a hint of regret in his voice as he added, “But I was wrong. I figured that out pretty quickly.”

“Oh, really?” you asked, leaning in a little closer, your voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper. “When exactly did you figure that out?”

“The first time we really talked,” he said, his voice equally soft, the words carrying a weight they hadn’t before. “After I saw you in the hall, crying. I don't know. You were so real, and I realized you weren’t what I thought. Not even close.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Wow, so I had to have a full-on breakdown just to convince you I wasn’t a shallow, self-absorbed diva? Good to know, Cill. I’ll make sure to cry more often around you.”

He laughed, bringing his fingertips to his lips, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Not quite what I meant, but I guess it did the trick, didn’t it?”

You remembered that night vividly, how everything had seemed to spiral downward so quickly. “I was having the worst night,” you said laughing, a slight bitterness creeping into your tone as the memories resurfaced. “I’d just been dumped by the world’s biggest asshole that morning, and then there you were, tearing down everything I said with some esoteric joke.”

Cillian winced slightly, the regret more pronounced now. “Yeah… I wasn’t exactly charming, was I?”

“You were a bit of a jerk,” you admitted, but there was no malice in your words. “But you made up for it with that burger offer.”

A grin spread across his face as he remembered. “I wasn’t sure you’d say yes.”

“Well, I figured a burger with you was better than sulking alone,” you replied, smiling at the memory. “And it was. I didn’t realize it at the time, but it was exactly what I needed.”

His expression softened. “I’m glad I asked, then.”

The bartender interrupted your conversation to ask if you wanted another round, and without a second thought, you both nodded in agreement. It seemed neither of you were ready to call it a night. The place was warmer now. As you waited for your drinks, your eyes drifted to the ceiling. Neil Young's "Harvest Moon" played softly in the background, the gentle melody weaving through the low murmur of conversation.

You glanced over your shoulder and noticed that a few couples had begun to dance, swaying gently to the music. There was something so natural, so easy about it, that you couldn’t resist the urge that bubbled up inside you. Turning back to Cillian, who was taking a sip of his drink, you couldn’t help but smile. “Come on,” you said, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Dance with me.”

Cillian raised an eyebrow, looking at you with a mix of amusement and skepticism. He muttered something in reply but you couldn’t quite make it out. It only made you more determined.

“I didn’t catch that,” you teased, leaning in closer as if trying to decipher his words. “But I know what you’re going to say.”

“Oh, do you, piano woman?” he shot back, his tone light but with a challenging edge.

“Yes,” you said, grinning. “You’re going to say that you don’t dance.”

Cillian chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “You’re right about that. I don’t.”

You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a low, persuasive tone. “I know, but you’ll indulge me anyway.”

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if weighing his options. Then, with a small, resigned sigh, he downed the rest of his drink in one go and set the glass back on the bar with a decisive thud. Before you could react, he grabbed your hand and stood up, pulling you along with him.

It caught you by surprise, the suddenness of it, especially considering he had just insisted he wasn’t the dancing type. As he led you toward the makeshift dance floor, he leaned in and said with a grin, “You’re lucky I like you.”

You laughed, a loud, genuine sound that felt as freeing as the night itself. “Oh, am I now?”

He smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, because otherwise, there’s no way I’d be making a fool of myself like this.”

You shot back with a playful, “Well, let’s see just how much of a fool you really are, then.”

As you reached the space where others were already swaying to the music, Cillian took your hand and pulled you in close. You could feel the warmth of his body, the solidity of his frame as he moved with you, the two of you finding a rhythm that was surprisingly in sync. It wasn’t anything fancy—just simple, slow movements to match the easy tempo of the song—but it felt intimate, like you were the only two people in the room.

Cillian leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Did you know I'm a failed musician?”

You couldn’t help but smirk, the alcohol loosening your tongue.

“Failed, huh? So, what happened? Couldn’t hack it with the rest of us rockstars?”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich, sending a shiver down your spine. "Something like that. I was in a band, actually."

You leaned back slightly, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief. “You? In a band? Color me shocked.”

It was kind of hot, imagining him on stage with a guitar in hand.

"We even had a record deal and everything."

"What happened?"

Cillian’s expression softened as he spoke, his voice carrying the weight of nostalgia. “My brother was still in school at the time, and my parents basically told me I could fuck up my life if I wanted, but I couldn’t take him down with me. So, it fell through.”

As you continued to sway together, the story of his past unraveled between you, each word carrying a hint of regret mixed with fond memories. “Those were great times, though,” he continued, his eyes distant as if he were seeing it all again. “I’d be out late, drinking, playing music in small pubs, thinking we were going to make it big. It was a bit of a rush, you know?”

You could imagine him there, young and reckless, with that same intensity in his eyes that he carried now, but wilder, untamed by the years. “So music was your first love, then?” you asked, your voice soft, genuinely curious.

He nodded, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, I suppose it was. I had been playing instruments since I was little. There’s something about it that just… gets into your blood. But then, acting came along."

“When exactly did you know that's what you wanted?” you asked, wanting to peel back more layers of him.

His smile turned almost bashful, as if recalling a secret he hadn’t shared in a while. “There was this guy who ran the Cork theater company—had a huge man crush on him. He was brilliant, and I ended up doing a workshop with him. After that, I just pestered him for an audition until he gave in.”

You chuckled softly at the thought of a young Cillian, determined and probably a bit of a nuisance, chasing after something he wanted so badly. “And that was it?”

“Well, there was a drama module in school when I was about 16, 17—during the transition year. That’s when I first got the bug. Ended up starring in A Clockwork Orange. It was sexy, dangerous, unlike anything I’d ever seen. I loved playing someone else, losing myself in the character.”

He paused, then flashed a self-deprecating grin. “There’s not much to look at, but if you give me a minute…"

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his modesty. “You’re selling yourself short,” you teased, leaning in closer, your bodies moving in sync to the music. "Cill, you literally have an Oscar."

“Ah, the Oscar... just a glorified doorstop, really,” he quipped, his tone light but with that familiar undercurrent of humility.

"It's the work that matters, blah blah blah," you joked, rolling your eyes playfully. His eyes were crinkling at the corners with genuine amusement. "Exactly," he agreed, before pulling you into a twirl.

"Do you miss it? you ask, hands circling his neck as you sway. "Music, I mean."

Cillian blew out a slow breath, his eyes growing thoughtful as he considered your question. “Sometimes,” he admitted. "But life has a way of taking you where you need to be, not where you want to be.”

His words settled over you like a blanket, warm and heavy, as you mulled them over. Is this where I need to be? The question echoed in your mind, reverberating through the deeper corners of your thoughts. You weren’t sure you had an answer. You were a successful artist, living the dream so many could only imagine, but there was always that lingering sense of something missing, a quiet ache that you couldn’t quite place.

Where do I need to be?

The thought spiraled, unfurling like an endless thread, pulling at the edges of your consciousness. You started questioning everything—your choices, your path, the very essence of who you were. Those words seemed to tap into something deep inside, a reservoir of doubts and desires that you hadn’t fully acknowledged until now.

“Yeah,” you replied softly, almost like you were talking to yourself more than to him.

You rested your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around you, swaying slowly. See, this is the thing about Cillian, he had a way of making you feel seen and understood, even when you didn't fully understand yourself, even without saying a single word.

The warmth of Cillian's arm around you, the subtle way he moved—it all felt so natural, like this was where you were supposed to be. But then, the memory of four nights ago crept in—the way his breath had hitched as you said you weren't going to stop him from going further, the tension that crackled between you both like a live wire.

The room suddenly felt too small, too warm. Heat flushed through your body, a dizzying sensation that made it hard to focus on anything other than the way he was looking at you. A knot formed in your throat, and you swallowed hard, trying to steady your racing pulse.

The memory was like a current running through you, making you hyper-aware of every point of contact with him. The room suddenly felt too small, too warm. Your mind was swirling with thoughts, the alcohol making you bolder, more aware of the things left unsaid.

"I can't stop thinking about what almost happened the other day."

“What almost happened?”

He let out a low, almost inaudible chuckle, his lips dangerously nuzzled in your hair. “Don’t play coy with me, love. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach, the way your body reacted to his nearness. “I’ve tried to stop thinking about it,” he continued, his voice a hushed murmur that only you could hear, “but I can’t.”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken desire. You wanted to let go of the restraint you’d been holding onto all night, but you were still aware of where you were, of the people around you—even if they weren’t paying you any attention. The thought of crossing that line, right here in the middle of the pub, was both thrilling and terrifying.

But Cillian, sensing your hesitation, didn’t push.

Finally, he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his expression serious but laced with that familiar smirk. “Wanna head out of here?” he asked, his voice low but with a note of urgency.

You didn’t need to think twice. “Yes,” you breathed, the word escaping your lips before you could stop it.

The night air hit you like a shock to the system as you stepped outside, the cool breeze carrying with it the faint scent of rain. The streets were quieter now, the lively noise of the pub fading into the background. You were drunk, the world tilting slightly with each step, and neither of you could drive.

Cillian pulled out his phone, his fingers deftly dialing the number for a cab. You watched him as he made the call, the way his jaw tensed slightly as he spoke, his voice low and calm despite the alcohol humming through his veins. There was something undeniably attractive about the way he carried himself, even in this moment of mundane practicality.

“What about your car?” you asked, your words slightly slurred but still coherent.

He glanced over at you, a small, reassuring smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll pick it up in the morning,” he replied smoothly, his accent curling around the words in that familiar, endearing way. “Don’t worry, love.”

The cab arrived not long after, the headlights cutting through the night as it pulled up to the curb. Cillian opened the door for you, and the two of you slid into the backseat, sitting close together but not touching. Not yet. The space between you crackled with unspoken tension, the thrill of anticipation hanging heavy in the air.

You found yourself playing with your ring-clad fingers, the cool metal a small distraction as the silence stretched out between you. The driver turned up the music a bit, and the opening chords of Inhaler’s "Dublin in Ecstasy" filled the car. The song was somehow fitting, its pulsing beat and haunting lyrics adding to the electric atmosphere.

It started to rain, the droplets tapping against the windows and turning them foggy, adding a sense of intimacy to the small, enclosed space. The outside world became a blur of lights and shadows, the city fading away as the cab sped through the streets. You could feel Cillian’s gaze on you, the weight of it almost tangible as you sat there, both of you lost in your own thoughts.

You turned to look at him, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The music became more intoxicating, the beat syncing with the rapid thudding of your heart. He noticed you bopping your head slightly to the rhythm, and a small, surprised smile crossed his face.

“You know this?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

You smirked, leaning back against the seat as you replied with playful confidence, “I know every song ever made, actually.”

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Is that so? A human jukebox, then?”

“Something like that,” you teased, the conversation light but charged with something more, something neither of you could ignore any longer.

The cab’s interior felt smaller, more suffocating as you neared your destination. When you finally arrived at his place, Cillian paid the driver, and the two of you got out, raising your jackets over your heads to shield from the rain, which had grown heavier. You both ran to the entrance, your footsteps echoing in the quiet night as you giggled like teenagers, the spontaneity of it all making you feel light, carefree.

He fumbled with his keys for a moment, the sound of metal clinking against metal filling the air before he managed to unlock the door. You stepped inside, the warmth of the house a stark contrast to the chill of the rain outside. The living room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the faint glow of the night sky through the large windows. The shadows played across the walls, casting everything in a soft, almost ethereal light.

You tossed off your jacket, letting it fall to the floor, your clothes clinging to your skin from the rain. You could feel the fabric sticking to your body, the dampness making you shiver slightly, but the heat in the room—and the heat between the two of you—kept you from feeling cold. Cillian wandered off somewhere for a moment, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited, the anticipation almost unbearable.

When he returned, his eyes locked onto yours, a predatory glint in his gaze that made your breath hitch. He took a step closer, the distance between you shrinking to almost nothing as he asked, his voice low and laced with a hint of something dangerous, “What should we do now?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with suggestion, and you felt a rush of heat flood through you, your pulse quickening. You moved toward him, your steps slow and deliberate, closing the gap until you were inches away. “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” you murmured, your voice trembling slightly despite the bravado in your words.

His hand reached up, fingers brushing against your cheek before trailing down to remove a stray piece of hair stuck to your face. His touch was light, almost reverent, but it sent sparks of electricity through your skin, making you feel like you were on fire. His hand continued its path down your arm, and you followed it with your eyes, watching as his fingers traced the outline of your veins, the simple action making your breath catch in your throat.

He moved his hand up to your shoulder, his fingers ghosting over the strap of your top before slowly sliding it down, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Your skin burned under his touch, a mix of desire and something else—something that felt like shame, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It felt too good, too right.

His hand slid up to your neck, his grip firm but not painful as he held you there, your breathing coming in short, ragged gasps. You clung to his black t-shirt, your fingers digging into the fabric as you tried to steady yourself, but the room seemed to spin around you, the intensity of the moment making you dizzy.

Cillian’s eyes bore into yours, his expression dark and filled with an unspoken promise as he whispered, his voice rough and filled with desire, “Tell me what you want.”

You wanted him—every part of him. You wanted to forget everything else, to lose yourself in this moment, to give in to the desire that had been simmering between you for days. And as his grip tightened slightly on your neck, pulling you closer until your lips were just a breath away from his, you knew there was no turning back.

"Kiss me," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

So he did. He kissed you, long and slow. His lips were soft yet urgent, and you melted into his touch. Your hands found their way to his damp hair, tangling in the strands as you deepened the kiss, savoring every moment. His breath mingled with yours, warm and laced with the faint taste of whiskey, his hands still cradling your face as if you were something fragile, something to be cherished.

But then the kiss deepened, the restraint unraveling as the need between you grew too powerful to contain. His hands slid from your face down to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. The kiss became more urgent, more demanding, as if he was trying to consume you, to lose himself in you. You responded in kind, your own hands gripping his t-shirt, pulling him closer, wanting more—needing more. The heat between you intensified, the tenderness giving way to something hotter, something that felt like it had been a long time coming.

The rain continued to patter softly against the windows, a distant sound that seemed to fade into the background as your focus narrowed to just him—to the way his hands gripped your waist, to the way his breath hitched when you bit down softly on his lower lip.

You started moving backward, the need to feel him against you overwhelming any thought of where this might be going. Your feet stumbled slightly as you both moved toward the couch, the dim light from the windows casting your entwined shadows across the floor. He guided you, his hands firm and sure, but there was a tenderness in the way he led you, as if he was still holding back, still trying to keep a grasp on the control that was slipping away.

You reached the edge of the couch, and he paused for a moment, his gaze intense as he looked at you, his chest heaving with the effort to catch his breath. “You're in control here,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, thick with the weight of the question, with the possibility of what was about to happen. "We stop whenever you want to, okay?"

Ever so polite, you thought. You answered him by pulling him down with you, your lips finding his again with a renewed urgency. The cushions gave way beneath you, the soft fabric enveloping you both as you sank into it. His body pressed against yours, the weight of him grounding you.

As the kiss deepened, became more frantic, more desperate, you could feel the tension in him—the barely restrained control he was struggling to maintain. His hands roamed over your body, landing on your jeans and slowly playing with the button, a silent request for permission.

"Don't stop now," you teased, your voice barely audible against his lips. He responded by deepening the kiss even further, his hands moving with purpose as he unbuttoned your jeans. He stopped for a moment, lowering himself to his knees in front of you, his hands taking off your shoes before sliding your jeans down your legs. He positioned himself between your legs once again, kissing you rough this time.

The couch was vast and soft underneath you as one of his hands traveled up your thigh—still not as high as you wanted it. You let out a needy moan, encouraging him. When his fingers brushed against the edge of your already wet panties, you couldn't help but arch your back in anticipation. He pushed them aside, his eyes never leaving yours. When his fingertips made contact with the wetness of your folds, he groaned too, in a way you found very satisfying.

"I've thought about this…a lot," he murmured, slipping a finger inside you, making you gasp with pleasure. "What you might sound like. What you might taste like. What you might feel like."

He pulled away from you swiftly, and you moaned at the loss. He kneeled down in front of you, his gaze intense as he leaned in to kiss your inner thigh, sending shivers down your spine. He pulled down your panties. You went stiff, suddenly aware of how exposed you were. He opened your thighs a little more, as if he wanted to see more. "I want to make you feel good," he whispered. "Let me taste you."

"Yes," you breathed out.

You couldn't stop looking at him as he pleasured you, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. Each flick of his tongue and gentle bite made you arch your back in ecstasy, completely lost in the moment. His hands tightened around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face. He groaned in pleasure, and you opened your thighs wider. His tongue was thorough and deliberate, exploring every inch of you with precision. Your hands grabbed the couch cushions, trying to ground yourself as you felt yourself spiraling into pure bliss. And just when you started to roll your hips, he slid two fingers inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made you gasp and moan uncontrollably.

It was too much. Pleasure consumed you as you arched your back violently against his touch and you moaned his name over and over again, letting go. You were drunk on him— his touch, his mouth, his scent—lost in the euphoria of the moment.

"Fuckin' incredible."

Well, yes, fucking incredible indeed. But not as incredible as it would feel to have him inside you completely, filling every inch of you. To reduce him to the whimpering mess he had just turned you into.

Before Cillian could do anything, you sat up and pushed him flat to the floor. You were both drunk and too eager to make it to the bedroom, so you might as well just do it right there on the living room rug.

He grunted in surprise, but his hands quickly found their way to your hips as you straddled him, pulling you closer. You removed your top, your breasts spilling out as you leaned down to capture his lips in a hungry kiss. His fingers gently tangle in your hair as you pull away from his mouth, pulling his black t-shirt over his head and tossing it aside.

He stopped breathing as you worked your way down his chest, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles until you reached the waistband of his jeans. Your hands made quick work of the button and zipper, and you eagerly slid them down his legs, revealing his growing arousal.

When your fingers wrapped around it—fuck—his skin felt hot and smooth against your touch, his breath hitching. You positioned yourself to take him in your mouth, savoring the taste of his desire as you licked a slow, teasing path along his cock. Cillian let out a ragged moan, his hands tangling in your hair.

You lifted your eyes. He had propped himself up on his elbows, watching you with his lips parted, pupils blown.

You had him.

You took him deeper, relishing the way he arched into your mouth, his groans spurring you on. With each flick of your tongue, you could feel him losing control, surrendering to the pleasure you were giving him. "Fuck, stop," he gasped, his voice strained with need. "I need to be inside you."

“Condom?” you asked, the question hanging in the thick air between you.

“Upstairs,” he said, his voice rough, almost pleading.

You hesitated for just a second. “I don’t mind… if you don’t.”

For a moment, he froze, his blue eyes darkening as they searched yours, as if to make sure he’d heard you right. Then, with a low growl that sent shivers down your spine, he nodded.

You released him with a smirk and sat up, swung over him. You positioned yourself so that his hands were on your hips, guiding you down onto him. The anticipation was electric, every nerve in your body alive with the need to be closer to him, to feel him, completely and without anything between you.

As you sank onto him, his eyes rolled back in ecstasy, a low moan escaping from both of you. The feeling of being filled by him sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire between you that burned hotter with each thrust. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you matched his rhythm, lost in the intensity of the moment.

This was going to end you.

His movements became more urgent, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered your name. The room was filled with the sound of your mingled gasps and moans, a symphony of pleasure that seemed to echo off the walls. He felt so good, so right. His thrusts became more deep and harsh—you wanted even more. As if he read your mind, he sat up against the couch and kissed you deeply, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"Bloody hell," he murmured against your lips, both his hands grabbed your face as he looked deeply into your eyes, and you circled your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and circling your hips in rhythm with his. Your breasts pressed against his chest, the heat between you both rising as your bodies moved in perfect synchronization. He was close—you were close. His hands roamed your back, your ass, and your breasts, and you threw your head back when his mouth found its way to your nipples.

"Oh fuck," you gasped, "Yes, oh—" you screamed as white-hot pleasure shot through your body, causing you both to reach the peak of ecstasy together. You felt his cock swell, filling you completely as he released with a guttural groan.

The intensity of the moment left you both breathless, bodies entwined in a tangled mess of limbs and sweat. He had leaned back to the floor, and you had gone with him. He was rubbing your back, and your face was pressed to his chest.

"You okay, love?" he asked softly, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin. You hummed, feeling content and safe in his arms, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure.

You stayed like that for a moment, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath you, the quiet rhythm of his breathing syncing with yours. His fingers kept tracing those gentle patterns on your back, grounding you, reminding you that you were still here, still connected. The afterglow wrapped around you both, a warmth that made you feel safe, cherished. You could still feel him inside you.

“How bad would it be if we just stayed here?” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the moment. There was a part of you that didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break the spell.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest, and you could feel the rumble against your cheek. “Well, love,” he said, his voice laced with amusement, “I’m not sure how comfortable the floor will be in about twenty minutes, but I’d say it’s worth a try if you are.”

You laughed, the sound light and free. “Fair point,” you conceded, shifting slightly to look up at him. His eyes were warm, a little teasing, but there was an underlying tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.

“Come on,” he said gently, his hands sliding down your sides as he carefully helped you up. “Let’s get cleaned up. I promise the bed is much more inviting.”

He rose to his feet, extending a hand to help you up. You accepted, your legs feeling a little shaky as you stood, still a bit lightheaded from everything that had just happened. His hands lingered on your hips, steadying you, and you couldn’t help but smile at the care in his touch.

Together, you made your way upstairs, his arm draped around your shoulders as he guided you toward his bedroom. The space was warm, cozy, with a lived-in feel that made it undeniably his. The bed was unmade, sheets rumpled, as if he’d just gotten out of it before coming to find you.

He led you to the bathroom, where the soft glow of a single light illuminated the space. He turned on the shower, testing the water temperature before gesturing for you to step inside. You did, letting the hot water cascade over you, washing away the remnants of the night, though the memory of it clung to your skin. He joined you a moment later, his hands gentle as he helped you rinse off, his touch tender, almost reverent. You stood under the water together, letting the steam envelope you both.

When you were both clean, he handed you a towel, wrapping another around his waist. He left the bathroom for a moment and returned with a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, offering them to you.

“Here,” he said with a soft smile. “This will do.”

You took the clothes, slipping them on. The fabric was soft, worn in, and it smelled like him—woodsy, with a hint of something earthy and warm. You found yourself breathing it in, the scent comforting in a way you hadn’t expected.

When you were both dressed, he led you to the bed, pulling back the covers and slipping in beside you. He held the blanket up for you, and you slid in next to him, the cool sheets a welcome contrast to the warmth of his body. He immediately pulled you close, his arm wrapping around your waist as you nestled into his side, your head resting on his chest once more.

The room was dark, but the faint light from outside filtered in through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the walls. You could hear the rain still pattering against the window, a soothing backdrop to the quiet intimacy between you. His hand found yours under the covers, fingers intertwining as he held you close, his breath warm against your forehead. You could feel his heartbeat under your palm, steady and reassuring, and it lulled you into a state of deep relaxation.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard you. You don't know for what exactly you were thanking him, but it felt like the right thing to say in that moment.

He responded with a gentle squeeze of your hand, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your hair.

You didn’t need to say anything more. The silence between you was comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding. You both knew that tonight had changed something between you, something profound and unnameable, but for now, it was enough to just be here, together.

a/n: there you have it, i hope you guys liked it!! please like, reblog and comment. i wanna hear your thoughts! and as always, thank you for the support <3

[lees-chaotic-brain]

How would jjk men react to reader being pregnant with quadruplets?

Feat. Gojo, Yuta, Inumaki, Nanami, Megumi, Itadori (all characters are aged up)

Note: I did headcanons for this request because there were so many characters I wanted to include, and it would get a little boring to write the same scenario out in a full fledged fic like seven times. However, if there are one or two that you want me to turn into proper fics lmk!! I had to do research on pregnancy for this bc it's been awhile since my high school health class

CW: pregnancy, implied thoughts of abortion ig, mentions of fear regarding labor, AFAB reader bc, yk, pregnancy, one singular swear word

Word Count: 1.2k

JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

Gojo

I feel like Gojo would think you were joking at first, and wouldn’t believe you until you got frustrated and he finally realized you were being for real. He would have mixed emotions. On one hand, he was excited to have a big family and a house full of laughter and love. On the other hand, he was afraid, because more babies meant more defenseless mini-people for him to protect.

He had only known that he was going to be a father of quadruplets a few minutes ago, but he already knew that it would destroy him if he ever lost one of them. That he would gladly give his life for them. And then there was the matter of you. He already knew that childbirth was difficult for women, but quadruplets?? Childbirth was something that even he couldn’t protect you from and that terrified him. 

After a serious discussion in which he made sure you were okay with the added risks and you continuously reassured him that this was what you wanted, he settled down and began imagining a future for your family. Until he realized that he would have to share your love with four little gremlins who would surely take after their clingy father. Then it suddenly seemed less appealing.

Yuta

Baby boy would be shooketh. Because he’s sorry please don’t be mad at him and oh you’re not mad at him and the two of you are having quadruplets well technically you are but he’s the dad and oh god what if he’s not good at being a dad and-

You would have to calm him down as he fell into a downward spiral. Once you had properly reassured him, and he had fully absorbed the information he was ecstatic. He has always wanted a big family, and together the two of you were making that dream come true. Cuddling up to you he would thank you for loving him and gifting him with the many kids he had always dreamed of having.

He for sure would be the type to rub your stomach and whisper sweet nothings to the growing babies in your womb, telling them how much daddy loves them and how excited he is to meet them.

He would also start baby-proofing every square inch of your house before you had even started your second trimester.

Inumaki

He would be in shock. Because he put- wait how many??? babies in you. There was no way he heard you right. There was no way that you were pregnant with quadruplets. Because, wait, he didn't sign up for this! Yeah, he wanted tons of kids, but four babies at a time was a lot. And the strain it would have on your body was concerning as well. 

After he stopped opening and closing his mouth as he gaped at you, he managed to organize his thoughts. First he wanted to make sure you even wanted that many kids because, well, it wouldn’t be easy to give birth to or take care of that many. Once you had reassured him that you were, in fact, sure that you wanted to go through with the pregnancy and that you were prepared for whatever the future held for your not-so-little family he took a moment to process his own emotions.

At first he was conflicted. Sure he was excited, but he held his own private reservations. What if something went wrong during labor? What if he wasn’t cut out to be the parent of one kid, let alone four. But as the months sped by and your stomach grew, the anticipation grew, until one day he let go of any and all trepidation and allowed himself to be optimistic.

He also bought tons of matching onesies for the whole family.

Nanami

Ever the responsible adult and caring husband, first he sat you down and had a serious discussion about the pros and cons of having quadruplets, and whether or not the risks were worth it. Deep down he was thrilled, but he wanted to make sure the two of you were on the same page and understood what continuing meant.

Once the two of you had established you were going to see this through, and it was something the two of you wanted his planning would begin. First came the research. He thoroughly educated himself on everything regarding pregnancy, learning everything he needed to do to ensure your comfort and the healthy birth of his children.

Expect a special diet plan that fulfills the needs of you and your unborn children in the healthiest way possible, essential oil massages, weekly check-ups starting your second trimester, vitamin gummies and more.

He also would begin saving up because raising four children would be expensive. Would for sure have a whole financial plan set up and college savings accounts set up for each of his children within a week of his learning.

Megumi

Honestly, he wouldn’t have super strong feelings about it. He wanted to be a dad, but he didn’t care if it was one, four, or one hundred. He just wanted to have kids with you, and beyond that as long as you were happy he was too. 

So when you told him, his only response was asking you what you thought about it. When you told him you were excited, he was excited too. He had wanted to build his own family for as long as he could remember, and you were helping him reach his dream. What more could he ask for? The only other thing that mattered to him was that his children had siblings. As a kid he had resented Tsumiki, but as an adult he couldn’t imagine the loneliness he would have experienced growing up without her. So yeah. If you were happy, and his children would have siblings so they would never have to walk through life alone, he was content.

There was nothing more he wanted in life than your love and a family with you.

Itadori

Kids!!! He had wanted a ton of kids, so this was perfect! You were happy with it, so even better! He sees it as a four-in-one deal, and is over the moon. His golden retriever personality becomes even worse when you’re pregnant. Like, this man is at your side 24/7.

Constantly following you around, looking at you with big pleading eyes as he begs to cuddle in bed with you so he can talk to your stomach.

Oh my god talking to your stomach. This man would talk to your stomach more than he talks to you. Asking what your kids want to be named. Telling your unborn babies about his day. That he loves them and can’t wait to meet them. Describes all the fun things the six of you are going to do once they’re born. Definitely tries cuddling your stomach because he ‘wants to know what it feels like to hold his children.’

Also is a little shit that constantly asks ‘are they coming yet? Why not??’

[voxlvrr]

˚₊‧꒰ა Adam with a work!alcoholic reader ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

`` ~ ୨ A/n : thank you all for 100 followers ! <333 also this is genuinely just pure fluff, may be a bit ooc ! ୧ ♡ ·

ꕥ ; Adam HATES your bad working habit, you’ll stay cooped up in your room for literal hours and days! you never take your eyes off the papers on your desk. the only time you actually come out just get coffee. Adam will use every excuse he can in the book so you’ll actually stop overworking yourself and come to bed with him or just eat something. but usually he’ll barge in with food he bought and set it on your desk, and use the time to spend time with you for awhile. but once he genuinely gets fed up with it he’ll just go behind your desk and snatch you up from your chair while obviously ignoring your protests. he’ll honestly straight up tell you that you need to stop your bad habits and that it’s actually starting to “piss him off” but later he’ll mumble that he actually cares about you just wants you stop. and once you promise that you’ll stop he’ll end up dragging you to bed with him cause he knows how many nights and mornings you’ve stayed up. but before you do that he’ll let you take care of yourself, like taking a shower, getting a change your clothes and brushing your hair. once that’s all taken care of he’ll literally never let you leave the bed all night, he genuinely couldn’t sleep at night when you weren’t with him. Often also leaving him restless like you. hell! even lute noticed how he isn’t like his usual self cause Adam genuinely missed your presence and he’s so glad that you’re finally back in his arms <3

ꕥ ; also Adam will try to make sera not give you so much work, which she’ll probably agree too. and once she does, he’ll probably start trying to convince you to take a break for once in awhile, or he’ll just take you out for awhile knowing that you’re stressed about all the work you’ve been given for the last couple of weeks. he’ll get you whatever you want! food?, already bought!,you want new outfits? He’ll buy it for you! literally whatever you want, just don’t stress about work <3

A little one shot under the cut here :)

ꕥ ; it was maybe 3:00 am or 4:00am..? damn it you lost track of time already. you’ve been overworking yourself even more lately since sera decided to move down the stupid extermination day. and now while that’s happening you have to approve some other rules for heaven and other shit that you genuinely don’t care about, as you looked at the window from your pitch black office only some moonlight shining in you could see some early risers up and about in the city. but mostly it’s peaceful and quiet which youre glad about. as you turn your head away from the window.

you then see Adam right in front of you, which scares the LIVING. shit out of you which you almost screamed but you were very. tired to scream you noticed that Adams mask was sitting right on your desk which was piled in reports and other things you forgot about hours ago, Adam then spoke “can’t you just hold off the work for the night? It’s literally fucking almost 4:00am, cmon! just come to bed alreadyyy!” You sighed profusely before you spoke in a low tired voice “listen - Adam. you know how i have to finish these reports and documents so I can bring them all to sera tomorrow, I can’t come to bed with you yet.” you responded before looking down at the papers before you and when you tried to reach the pen across the desk - Adam then snatched it and threw it somewhere across the room and before you could protest - Adam then gently took your wrist bringing you around from the table and towards his chest and then wrapped his soft wings around your figure. which made you even more tired than before. you then started drifting off until you fully fell asleep in his arms..

`` ~ ୨ this is was probably the longest fanfic I’ve made ! ^^ hope you all enjoyed

[hueshy]

pair: hueningkai x f! reader

warnings: drinking, reader is kind of stupid, overthinking, not proofread.. thats all, if i missed one or two lmk

genres: fluff, reader gets cute aggression because of kai, bad angst cause i don't know how to write it

you and the members are doing your daily hangout on fridays, playing videogames and laugh at the one who lost, drink until nobody knows where they are or what they’re talking about.

but today, something feels off

every one is bickering as usual but kai, you couldn’t help but notice at the way he's unusually quiet. hiding his mouth with his sweaterpaws, shy, quiet responses while his cheeks are naturally colored

dear god

you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, biting your lip whenever he speaks and pinching the pillow on your lap when his bangs slightly cover his eyes. ever since you sat on this couch you had the strongest desire to hug him tightly while you squealed on how adorable he is

if you did just that, he wouldn’t be weirded out right? he would receive the hug happily and giggle along with you, you think

soobin has noticed you staring at kai for awhile now, giggling on how mesmerized you look at the sight of kai and also how obvious you are, obvious to everyone but kai himself.

he approaches you and says,

“you’re clear as a crystal you know,” you hear a deep voice next to you, it’s soobin, you stare at him like he has grown two heads “what do you mean?”

he stares at kai who’s sat in the couch playing games with beomgyu then back at you, “do you like him?”

“…what?” he shrugs, “just curious”

you scoff and playfully roll your eyes, slowly mouthing a ‘no’ before going back to the couch to sit next to kai “who’s winning?” asking the two but eyes only looking at him. kai suddenly goes silent, you furrow your eyebrows and open your mouth to voice your worry but beomgyu beats you to it. “what’s wrong huening? why are you so suddenly quiet? you were so talkative just now" red cheeks, eyes staring down at the controller in his hands, everything but you, red ears.. oh? " don’t tell me—“ beomgyu looks at you for a second, “shut up!” “oh it is, isn’t it?” he teases, smirking. “what? what’s wrong? tell me!” you whine, desperate to know what’s up so suddenly.

“nothing! beomgyu-hyung is just being annoying” kai answers, irritated

you hum, furrowing your eyebrows once again, “is he really? c’mon tell me beomgyu!” as soon as you glare at him he nonchalantly shrugs, the dimple on his cheek appearing as he was smilling too hard

“ugh i was planning to share my chips with you beomgyu but not anymore traitor”

although he looked absolutely endearing when 'shy', you didn't like how quiet he is whenever you're around. he was practically ignoring you, but why? 'does he hate me now? what did i do? why is he barely speaking to me? we we're just fine 4 days ago..'

'is this the thing him and beomgyu didn't want to tell me? then why was beomgyu so chill and smilling about it?' negative thoughts ran through your mind back and forth, your heart starts to hurt.

"are you okay?" a soft, husky voice greets your ear, a whisper of an angel..

your dear friend, how could you forget he was next to you?

"i'm fine, not in the best mood" you hear a weak hum and a small, 'is that so?'

you continue watching the screen infront of you, you totally forgot you and the others were watching a movie but soon all of them fellasleep but you and kai

a finger taps your shoulder

"..would a hug from hueningie cheer you up?" he opens wide his arms while smiling softly, bangs now swept to the side, exposing his forehead, is this heaven?

the smile on his face fades seeing your hesitance, arms not as widespread as before

you feel horrible

you wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him, a sweet scent of vanilla drown your senses “..i’m sorry” he whispers into your ear, warm breath hits your cold skin, “it’s my fault right?” you nod against his shoulder, you gulp before saying “you hate me”

“no, no, you got it wrong! it’s just..” he whines and hides his face in your hair, your tummy fills up with butterflies at the action “i.. i recently figured out something, n-not something negative, well.. depends on how you take it” you feel his shaking fingers play with the ends of your hair

you stay in silence, waiting for him to speak up, you hear a shaky breath above you “i think i like you— no, i’m inlove with you, ..i, the way you make me feel, i didn’t know the exact name for it but now i do, y/n.. if you don’t feel the same way please—”

"you're not lying to me right?" kai's eyes widen "no of course not! i would never—" you take his face in your hands, closing the gap between you and him by bit, "then, would you kiss me?" he finds himself nodding uncontrollably, repeating 'yes' over and over again. "yes, yes.. would.. would you.. let me?" he stutters, you could feel the way his cheeks were burning hot, so cute, why would you say no?

"of course"

he kisses you, tangling his fingers on your hair and bringing you closer to him, he backs up for air then smashes his lips on yours

"you're so— desesperate to kiss me aren't you?" you laugh

"yes.. yes i think ive liked you for so long but i didn't realize until now” sighing he leans closer to you, foreheads kissing. “we.. are a couple now, right?” you hum and shrug after, “obviously, we just kissed”

“..good to know, question.. can we do it again?—“

"eww what the fuck! yn and kai are making out on my couch!" an annoying voice says behind you, you roll your eyes

“beomgyu!”

[vampiree-555]

"She a good girl but for me she a slut."

cw: established relationship , bf!matt , fem!reader , oral m!receiving , filming , softdom!matt , sub!reader , smut , pet names , praising , use of y/n

matt - blue

you - pink

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

i laid on the far too comfortable couch that was placed strategically in the triplets house. my boyfriend, Matt, sat right next to me with my legs laid out on his lap, his own hand massaging my calf. across the couch sat Chris, and on the other side of me was Nick, my boyfriends triplet brothers. the three boys paid close attention to the movie that was playing on the tv in front of us. all three of them seemed to be lost in a trance to the scene though i had gotten bored of the movie awhile ago. i mainly just scrolled on my phone until i got tired. i looked around at all the boys and scoffed. i peered over to my boyfriend. i wanted to get his attention. i grabbed the blanket that was bundled under my head that i was using as a pillow and threw it over mine and my boyfriend's laps. i lifted my leg up just enough to where my foot sat on Matt's crotch. he quickly whipped his head around to glare at me. i still question how he didn't get whiplash. i shrugged my shoulders and gave him an innocent smile. i sat up from my place and scooted closer to Matt. i noticed how he watched me carefully. as if he was daring me to make one wrong move. i caught my bottom lip between my teeth to stifle a small chuckle. i paid attention to the flashing screen in front of us though that's not what my mind was fixated on. Matt moved his own attention back to the movie. i snaked my hand underneath the blanket and rubbed my hand on his hardening crotch. i noticed how he flared his nostrils and his breathing became slightly heavier at my touch. i giggled into my hand at his reaction. i glanced at the two other boys before placing a gentle kiss on Matt's neck, ensuring they didn't see. i pretended to act tired and rubbed my eyes before fake yawning. i threw the blanket off of me and stood up from my comfortable position.

"im going to bed ya'll. goodnight" i said quietly before waving my goodbyes. the other boys spoke their goodnights as well except for Matt.

"ill join you soon. im pretty tired too." the two brothers looked at the similar brown haired boy before cocking their heads. Matt usually went to bed super late at night/early in the morning, so hearing that he was tired at 12am was a little odd to them. they thankfully shrugged it off, also saying their goodnights.

i waltzed to the bedroom Matt and i shared, Matt following shortly behind me. i opened the door and jumped into our bed while Matt shut the door behind us. i crawled under the covers and pretended not to notice my boyfriends intense gaze. i pretended to scroll on my phone trying my best not to burst out laughing.

"y/n..." i moved my phone out my face so i could see Matt's face. i hummed a quick "yeah?" at him while looking at him with my best puppy dog eyes.

"y/n." his voice was much more low than before. as if he was begging. i licked my teeth and caught my bottom lip. i got out from underneath the warm blanket and crawled to the end of the bed to meet with my boyfriend. i couldnt help but look at the tent in his pants that met perfectly with my eye line. my cheeks blushed as he looked down at me. Matt pinched my chin between his thumb and pointer finger before using his thumb to pull on my bottom lip. i looked at him through my eyelashes and giggled softly.

"c'mon doll... dont start what you cant finish." before i could make any movement or say anything, matt pulled down his own pants and boxers. his cock sprung out, hitting his abdomen. i sat on my knees in front of him and watched, entranced, as he fisted his own cock. he peered down at me as i just watched. eventually after watching him move painfully slowly, i took his cock in my smaller hand and kitten licked his leaking tip. i wrapped my lips around his pink tip while also pumping him with my hand. i pulled his cock out with a small 'pop' which elicited a soft groan from the taller. i licked my lips before taking him in my mouth again, this time bobbing my head. i moved at a painfully slow pace, slightly teasing the older. before i knew it, Matt grabbed a handful of my hair into a makeshift ponytail and began thrusting into my mouth. with each thrust he hit the back of my throat making me gag. soft curses left his lips as he continued his motions. i had begun to match Matts pace, and he stopped his own thrusts. tears began pricking my eyes as i continued. i pulled off his cock and a long string of saliva formed, connecting my lips to his member. spit pooled at the base of his cock and dripped down my chin. my breathing was uneven and i let out a cough before continuing my same motions, this time more desperate. i had become obsessed with his taste. the feeling of him filling my mouth was overwhelming but i loved it. my taller let out soft groans and curses while i moved at an extreme pace. Matt placed his hand on my cheek, stopping my movements and lifted my head up so i could meet his eyes. my mouth was agape and my eyes droopy. spit covered my chin and lips and my cheeks were a burning red. he smirked at me and let a soft chuckle escape his lips. matt quickly pulled out his phone and took a quick picture with the flash on. he usually did this. while we were fucking he always took a picture in the middle of it. i furrowed my eyebrows and he quickly shrugged as he looked back at the picture.

"i like seeing you all desperate for me." i didnt say anything and slapped his hand off my cheek. his phone was still in his hand as i wrapped my lips back around his cock. he threw his head back and let a moan escape. i noticed matt still on his phone yet i didnt pay attention to it. matt turned on his flash and filmed the sight in front of him. his dick covered in spit and my head bobbing at a fast and desperate pace. i looked at the camera through my teary eyes and saw Matt smirk behind his phone. he eventually threw his phone on the bed and gripped my hair once more. i felt his dick twitch in my mouth indicating he was close. i went all the way down and let my nose hit the base of his abdomen. i let a soft sound leave my lips and the vibrations sent matt over the edge. his warm liquids hit the back of my throat and i swallowed them all. i loved the taste of him. i pulled off of him and let my back hit the bed.

"you did so so good sweetheart." matt crawled on top of me and wrapped his arms around my waist as he laid his head on my chest. i let my hand comb through his hair and twirl little strands around my finger.

"thank you baby..." i spoke quietly. i was tired at this point. i noticed matt grab for his phone and go to tiktok. i tilted my head when he searched for this one audio. he clicked the sound and the "use sound" button. he went to his camera roll and picked the most recent video from only moments before. the audio played "she a good girl but for me she a slut" with the video of us from only a few seconds ago. matt and i both giggled as we watched the video. he clicked the next button and went to put it in his drafts but accidentally clicked 'post' instead

"OH SHI-"

[yuyu1024]

Babe

Pairings: S.coups × y/n

Genre/tags: protective/possessive bf

Warning: 🔞🔞🔞 fluff but smut, unprotected sex, pet names, cursing, semi public, handjob

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 3k

Disclaimers:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N: looong time no post. ✨️I was away... got sick and mentally not doing okay... and I dont think im 100% okay yet...Its been hard but still trying my best :)

i might be coming back to writing here and there... but not consistent. Hopefully you understand...

meaning, i will be a 🐌 in updating nor posting and won't be online mostly. 🖤

(i cant promise i can jump back to the Yoongi/Suga series yet also sorry 😭 hopefully one day but not soon.)

Me writing... is depending if im okay.

Also, Thank you for the kind messages in DMs. I really do appreciate them...even tho i don't reply 🖤 pls know its very helpful.

Thank you.

P.S its been a long time since i wrote anything so.... rusty.🥲 this is my just trying to get back to it.

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

Seungcheol, your boyfriend, texted you to meet him at school. Which surprised you the second you read it because it has been weeks since he went to school.

He has been doing special online classes these past weeks as he can't walk. Yet. He slipped while playing soccer with the boys two months ago causing an injury on his left leg. It was very painful to watch him yell in pain during that game. It was supposed to be just a fun game with his friends and you and their other friends watching but yeah, accidents happen.

"What are you doing here?" You gasp the second you enter the University clinic and saw your boyfriend sitting and chatting with the school doctor.

"Babe." He smiles and opens his arm, asking for a welcome hug

"Babe!" You squeal and immediately run and hugged him tightly.

"I missed you." He mumbles lightly lifting you off the floor even he's sitting on the clinic's bed.

He never lost his strength.

"Ditto." You say and kissed him on his cheek before letting go. "Wait... why are you here?" You ask again. "He can go back to school now?" You turn to ask the doctor behind you

"He can. But I still suggest no." He folds the folder his holding and sits down on his desk. "He can walk now with crutches easily yes... but... going up and down... walking building to building to classes...." doctor shakes his head

"I'm just here to visit, babe." Cheolie says caressing your back. "To report my health to him... to let know the team..."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry..." he press his lips together and giving you an apologetic look.

"I'll leave you two to talk... I have to go on a meeting now in the faculty. Just let the nurse know when you leave okay? So she can assist you with the wheel chair."

"Okay, doc. Thank you."

And as soon as the doctor leaves and shut the door close behind him, Seungcheol immediately grabs you by the waist, pull you close to his body and leans in to fully kiss you.

It feels rushed at the beginning but as soon as you find the perfect spot to lean your body weight to his, it felt smooth and just sensational. You even opened your mouth completely to let his tongue explore you.

You two haven't kissed for awhile. The rent is due.

"I missed you so much." He whisper as he pulls away to take a breather.

"This is the longest we've been away from each other..." you say as you straighten your stand

"Yeah... I got busy healing..."

"And I got busy at school... and at home..." you answer as you sit down beside him. "How are you feeling at the moment?"

"Good....well.. better now that I've kissed you." He smirks and plants a tiny kiss on your temple

"Babe..." you lean on his shoulder

"You know you always make me feel good..." he chuckles. "Also... Doc said my leg is healing pretty good..."

"That's good to hear..." you stand up once again. "So... can I--"

And before you could ask him another question about visiting him soon at home Seungcheol kisses you on your cheek and then on the back of your hand.

"Thank you for always calling me... every night... making sure to check on me... give me updates at school and being an understanding girlfriend. Even though you are tired yourself."

"I didn't do that much." You say holding his hand. "If only I could visit you personally I would..."

But you couldn't. It's not like he leaves far away from you. It's just that you wanted him to just rest. You know how he is when he sees you. He gets excited and acts everything is fine even though he is in pain.

He would probably force himself to get up when you visit him. It's kind og his thing to show off he is strong. Especially to you. He is your alpha lover.

"No...babe. just you calling has saved me from a lot of bad moods and not doing my therapies because... I'm not in the mood." He kisses your hand again.

"Well I'm glad... I could help..." you say smiling.

"And also..." he then bites his lower lip whilst smiling. You already know what he's about to say with those cheeky smirks.

"Hush..." you cover his mouth with your hand, scared that he might say it outloud and the nurse from behind the door might hear. "That's for us only..." you whisper.

He is referring to the video call sessions you do every now and then. To help him when he is... sad and horny.

"You promised... no one should know..."

"Of course..." he murmurs, his mouth is still covered by your hand. "The images are for my eyes to see and for my dick to feel only." He adds and then playfully licks your palm, making you jump a little.

"Hey!" You slap him on his shoulder

He is grinning so much. He is enjoying your reactions. "You're so adorable being shy..." he puts his arm around your waist, securing you between his legs. "My shy little fairy..." he mumbles just before he kisses you again.

You don't deny him of any sort of making out. Even at the clinic. Why woulf you? You missed him so bad too.

So bad that even his hands is skimming your body and even lifting your short A-Line skirt, exposing your bum, just to squeeze it is fine. Perfectly fine.

"Wait." He pauses and looks you in the eyes. "You are wearing a skirt this short... with no protective shorts under?"

"Hmm?" You look at him, confused for a second. "Oh."

He is yout alpha, yes. And one trait of him that is very dominant is him being protective of you. He does not like anyone hurting you, being mean to you and most especially drooling over you. You are his and only his.

"What you mean oh?" He raises a brow. "Well? Why aren't you wearing one?"

You don't have a good excuse. You just forgot. Well... you have been forgetting since he have been away.

"Y/N..."

"You're now calling me by name...." you move back away a little. "I'm sorry... I have no excuse..."

"What if some maniac sees you? When you go up stairs? Or the elevator in the media building? You know its glass right? They can see... what if wind blows and..." he sighs, frustrated. "You know how most guys are."

"I know... I'm really sorry." You pout. "I didn't purposely forget it..."

You see the change in his mood. He is very possessive of you so you know that just the idea of any guy looking at you because they find you cute or have interest of being close to you and whatever, he's already on guard.

He sighs again and also he's already grabbing his crutches.

"Leaving already?" You say in the softes tone.

"Yeah..." he stands up and calls on the nurse for assistance.

"Okay..." you lower your gaze.

You are not sure how to tame your boyfriend since this time you know you are at fault for forgetting and breaking a promise you told him after he was told to stay at home.

You stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "Just... call me when you get home."

"I will not call you." He says as he sits down on the wheel chair. "You're coming home with me."

"Wait. What?" You ask

The nurse enters the room and greets the two of you.

"Ready to go home?" The nurse asks

"Yes." Seungcheol smiles at her. "I have a scheduled therapy this afternoon..."

"Oh... I see... goodluck then." She says as she helps to push your boyfriend

"Y/N..." he calls your name out again.

This is the second time he called you by name. He is clearly not okay with the skirt situation. This never happened before.

***

You both arrived at his parent's house. They welcomed you and hugged you even. They thanked you for being a support system for their son even though physically you can't come because, well, they know how their son acts around you.

It's not a secret that their son is so in love with you that he's very clingy and trying to act cool and such.

"I already made food for the two of you so just reheat it if you decide to eat later."

"Oh. Thank you Mrs. Choi." You say

"It's nothing dear... also... thank you for being his care taker for tonight... we will enjoy our night on out staycation at the city." His mother says

You are stunned to hear what Mrs. Choi just said. You can't react beside just smiling and nodding. "Ah... ahm... don't worry about us... I'm going to take good care of him."

"Thank you, again." Mr. Choi says.

"We'll get going now... see you tomorrow afternoon, dear." She says to her son who is sitting in the sofa drinking his cola.

"Have fun, Mom and Dad!" He waves at them

And as soon the door shuts and you hear the car engine from outside.

"What the fuck was that?" You stomp you way towards him. "Care taker... tonight?? Babe?"

Nonchalantly he answers. "You will be staying for the night here with me... until tomorrow..."

"Why?"

"Why not?" He looks at you with a coldest stare. "Do you have any other plans? Are you meeting with anyone?"

"No..."

"And then... stay...."

"But... my parents..."

"I already told them... they are fine with it."

"When?"

"I called them earlier... before I texted you to come to the clinic."

You are in complete shock. "Cheolie..." you whine

"Now, you're calling me by name?" He raises a brow. "Why are you acting like that? It's like you don't want to stay with me."

"That's not it."

"Then what?"

You sigh. You are lost for words.

Yes you should be happy you are spending time with your boyfriend but he could've told you. You would say yes if he asked or told you.

You are just stunned maybe or confused with him doing this too since he's been being snappy at you since earlier.

"Whatever." You mumble throwing your bag to the floor and just sitting down at the chair opposite of where he's sitting.

Now you are the one in the bad mood.

"I still have the clothes and undergarments you left from last time..." he then says in a much calmer tone.

"Okay." You answer not looking at him.

You are not mad at him. You are just not happy with what he did. He probably wanted to surprise you with the idea earlier but since it got ruined during your clinic make out session. Now things are...

"Babe." He calls you

You turn your head to look at him. He looks serene now.

"Can you please come here..." he says

You get up and make your way to him, to sit down beside him.

"Not there." He says holding on to your wrist and leading you to move somewhere else. "Here..." he gestures for you to sit on top of him.

"But... your leg..."

"I can manage..." he breathes and then tugs you down so he could kiss you, cupping your face with one hand.

Your hands are now on his chest for balance support. You tried pulling away from the kiss but

"Sit..." he says in between the kiss.

And you do as he says. Kneeling down on the sofa, legs spread between his thighs, you sit down on him and slowly put your arms around his neck.

"Cheolie..." your lips part ways as you spoke and he tries to chase the kiss again but you bite your lips together. "Wait..."

"Why...?" He pouts

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" He runs his hands from your legs to your thighs and then underneath your skirt.

"You were just so cold to me... not even talking to me like I'm your girlfriend... and now you're kissing me and touching me..."

He throws his head back for a second and then sighs. "Babe, I'm sorry.... I was... well..."

"I said I'm sorry about the skirt... Don't worry. I will just wear pants starting on monday...."

"You sure?"

"Yeah... I promise." You kiss the tip of his nose. "I will just wear skirts when I'm with you."

"Really?" He raises a brow with matching smirk, biting his lower lip.

"Yeah..." you move your hips forward knowing what this tiny move will do to him. "I know you like to have easy access with me when we're together..." you softly say

He grunts as he feel you move a bit more. Rocking your hips over his erection that's sort of protected by his black jogging pants.

"I know what you're doing..." he hums

"And I know you like... what I'm doing..."

His smile goes ear to ear. "You're lucky I can't stand on my own yet... If I could..."

"What will you do?"

"Carry you over my shoulders and spread you on top of my bed..."

"And...?" You put your forehead to his.

"And...fuck you 'till dawn..."

Just the thought made you horny and wanting him. But since he can't do what he usually does to you, you decide to handle this on your own.

"You can still fuck me..." you say, grinning. "We have all night till tomorrow to find a way... a position you want me to be in."

"Fucking hell, babe." He grunts, sounding excited and turned on.

You adjust your position, making sure you can access him easily. Him meaning his long veiny length that's already leaking.

"Shit! Ah!" His mouth drops the second you hold onto him. His eyebrows is showing how he's loving the way you stroke and pump him. "Babe..." he moans. "Babe... aaaaahhh..." he throws his head back, his hands on his hair, trying to hold on to reality coz he is floating in heaven right now.

"Should I... let the tip touch me?"

"Touch... you?" He looks at you, brows furrowed from the high.

You already removed your panties off without him noticing.

"Yes... like this...." you then adjust your position back on top of him and lowered yourself just enough for the tip of his dick feel your entrance.

"Babe, fuck!" He snarls throwing his head back. "Your so damn wet already..."

You let him feel the wetness for awhile before you ease him in you.

"Holy... shiiiiit!"

"Ngggeeeaaah..." you breathe in as you suck him in whole.

"You're doing great babe." He pushes the hair off your face. "Don't rush it... just... feel it... feel me..."

When he's completely in you, you didn't move. You just hugged your man and took a breather.

"I can't believe my little fairy is being so daring..."

"Because I want to give you what you want... what you need..." you mumble on his neck.

"Babe, you know I can wait till I'm healed and ready to fuck you..."

"I know..." you look him in his eyes, "but I miss it too..."

"You do?"

You nod. "Us video calling... while we... you know... is not enough... I thought it was enough... but when I saw you earlier... I really did missed you more than I can imagine."

"You miss my dick?" He tease

"Babe!" You hide your face on his neck again.

"Ugh..." he suddenly moans. "Wow. I didn't know you get tigher when I tease you."

Seungcheol starts to move his hips a little, to ease dipper into you.

"Ah..." you exhale shakily. "Cheolie...hmmm...."

"You like that?"

"I do."

Then you start to move yourself.

You leaned back a little, pushing forward and pulling backward in motion to meet his slow but deep thrusting.

"Cheolie..." you cry his name as you feel like reaching your climax.

"Just let it go..."

"Fuck!" You throw your head back, panting and shaking. "Come with me..." you say, "come....with me..." you clentch more down there, making him feel the tightness.

"But babe..." biting on his lips, hissing and trying to control himself. "We don't have condoms."

"I don't care." You lean in for a sloppy kiss. "Come with me. I need to see you... melt with me..."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Babe..."

"Please..." you beg, "I want to feel it..."

"Fuck it!" He snarls as he goes to squeeze your ass under your skirt as he picks up the pace with you

It's amazing how strong he is. Even with an injured leg he could lift his hips to meet yours.

"Aaah!!" You moan as loudly as you can as you felt something in you pop.

He growls as soon as feel his length starts to release and feel the warmth in you.

"Fuck babe..." he is panting. "Our first time you being on top..."

Embarassed after your orgasm, you hug your man and hide your face again. "I only did what I know and can..."

"You did amazing... your handjob is what I needed to get me into the a frenzy." Then he kisses the top of your head. "I fucking love you... whatever you do... makes me love you even more..."

"I love you too..." you go for a kiss again. But then burst into a giggle when you felt him move. "You are still in me... I can feel you."

A smile spread over his lips, "Maybe we should continue this on my bed. I can do other positions and pump more in you if you want."

You grin, blushing. "I'd love to."

[woso-fan13]

Comfortember 2023: 2 (Barca)

2. Sweater Weather

“Nene,” Alexia said, frustration and pleading evident in her voice, “please. It’s cold out.”

“I’m fine Ale, I promise. I’m not going to get cold,” you insist. 

Alexia groans at your stubbornness. The woman had been trying to convince you to put a sweater on for the better part of 10 minutes and you had yet to be convinced. 

“Fine, be cold.”

You weren’t going to get cold. 

—-

You were cold. But you couldn’t admit that, lest Alexia is proven right. So you bite the inside of your cheek to keep your teeth from chattering as you continue with the group. Your fingers lost sensation awhile ago, the pockets you shoved them into doing nothing. But Alexia couldn’t know. 

“Y/N, ven aquí,” she calls. 

You hurry over to her, hoping the movement will warm you up. She doesn’t say anything to you, simply giving you a stern look. It’s clear she knows. 

But you still try to remain strong, refusing to admit that you had been wrong. You’re tensing all of your muscles to keep from shivering in front of her.

It’s a silent stare down until Alexia finally breaks down. Reaching into her bag, she pulls out an extra sweater. Wordlessly, she bunches it up before putting the thick material over your head. Her hands tug at the bottom hem. 

Not done yet, she pulls you into her arms. Wrapping you up tightly, she tries to pass you some of her body heat. You lean into her, attracted to the warmth. 

“I was right.”