#he keeps appearing in my dreams STOP IT

[ghostlyfrog-413]

10 likes and i will put him down

[sturnlsstuff]

CHRIS WOKE UP WITH A BONER AFTER HAVING A WET DREAM ABOUT YOU...

warnings; smut, masturbation, handjob, getting caught, chris getting off next to reader?? idk

a/n; i woke up today with this exact scenario in my head so... i had to write it

chris had a wet dream. an intense one.

and usually, there would be no problem with this, but today he wasn't alone in his bed.

the two of you decided to have a sleepover like usual, nothing surprising, you were bestfriends. but for some reason he had a dream about you, and it made him toss and turn in his sleep, bucking his hips against the blanket, trying to find some kind of release. his hand was unconsciously stroking his erection through his pajama pants that he wasn't wearing anything under - he liked to let it hang loose. but in his dream it was your hand.

his dick was so painfully hard that it woke him up, the room hot and quiet, the only sound being his soft, ragged breaths as he squeezed his hardness through the thin fabric. he was clearly overwhelmed with sleepy lust, his eyes were closed tightly as he keeps replaying the dream in his mind, the way your tits bounced as you rode him, or how your hand was jerking him off, making him feel so good.

chris lets out a quiet groan, pulling his pajamas down, freeing his hard length, the tip glistening with pre-cum. his breathing hitched slightly as his hand wraps around his cock, moving slowly, his sleepiness making him whiny and needy.

until he feels something shift beside him.

his eyes flutter open, a frown appears between his eyebrows and that's when he sees you. asleep next to him. you were laying on your stomach, cheek pressed against the pillow, your face turned away from him, hair tousled spilling across the pillow in a tangled mess. then chris's eyes move down, your tank top rolling up, letting him see a bit of the skin on your back, but something else caught his attention.

the blanket was drawn up to your knees so almost all of your body was exposed. your hips slightly raised, one leg thrown over the blanket, the shorts you were wearing leaving little to the imagination.

chris almost drooled all over himself. his hand freezes mid stroke, realizing that his best friend was just right next to him. thank god you were sleeping. he would be so embarrassed if you saw or heard him.

and he was about to stop, wanting to go to the bathroom just like any person would. but he couldn't take his eyes away from your ass.

how perfect it looked, how it was slightly up in those tiny shorts, making him lose all sense of boundaries. his gaze intensified as he stared at your lower half. he slowly shifts his hips, trying desperately to find a more comfortable position without disturbing you. inside, he's wrestling with his own confusion and guilt over his inappropriate attraction, but he was so sleepy and so fucking needy.

biting down on his bottom lip, his hand starts moving under the covers again, the faint sound of his skin sliding against his own growing louder as he picks up the pace.

if he's quick then you'll never know.

despite knowing it was wrong, he couldn't stop himself, his arousal and tiredness made him careless.

another whimper leaves him as he tries to stifle it in the pillow, his cheeks growing hotter, finding this situation strange but also incredibly hot. the sight of your ass makes him think back to his dream where he would pound into you from behind, grabbing your butt or slapping it, leaving red marks on your skin.

chris's movements immediately became more urgent, his breaths coming in short gasps. his hips lifting off the bed as he starts thrusting into his hand, imagining that it was you who he was fucking right now. the wet sounds echoing in the silent room, another muffled groan leaving chris as his teeth sink into his lip to keep the sound quiet. he was so close he could feel it, his legs spreading, giving his hand more room. he just needed to finish and wanted to go back to sleep, it was too early to be up.

but then he hears your voice.

"chris, what the fuck?"

his whole body tenses, his hand freezes as he moves his eyes up to see your confused face. you were clearly awake, propping yourself up on your elbows, a frown between your eyebrows. you've been awake for a while, him constantly shifting woke you up, and while you tried to sleep again, you didn't have the chance because of his quiet whimpers, and the obvious movements under the covers. so you were... listening. until you couldn't take it anymore.

his heart almost leaping out of his chest, his face turning a deep shade of red as he realized he's been caught.

"fuck-" chris's wide eyes full of guilt and embarrassment, he quickly tries to compose himself, pulling his hand out from under the covers as nonchalantly as possible, but he could feel the evidence of what he was doing still wet on his fingers. "i wasn't.... i...i was just... just adjusting..."he stumbles over his lie, seeing by the look on your face that there was no point in denying what you clearly saw and heard him doing.

he shifts uncomfortably, still painfully hard, his cock brushing against the covers almost making him moan. "shit, m'so fuckin' sorry, i just.... i wasn't thinkin' straight, i had a dream- i mean, i thought you were asleep and..."

but he's immediately silenced by your voice, the tiredness clearly making you more bold as well. "i wasnt sleeping," you admit, looking down at his covered by the blanket lap, and then back up. "did you, uh... finish?"

chris almost choked on his own saliva.

his heart raced, mind reeling as he stares at you with wide eyes, completely surprised that you asked him that. he expected you to be grossed out, or think that he's a perv, not asking him if he came. the curiosity was written all over your sleepy expression, his dick twitching after your question.

he shakes his head, not daring to use his voice, too scared that it will betray how much more you just turned him on.

chris can see the wheels turning in your head as you shift onto your side, still propping yourself up on your elbow. your tits perfectly squeezed together now, catching his attention, and he almost comes right there and then when he notices your hard nipples through the thin tank top you were wearing.

your voice completely unsure, but still managing to put a lot of dirty thoughts into chris's mind as you ask, "do you.... wanna?"

his breath caught in his throat, eyes widening at your question once again. you were asking... or maybe even offering something to him...?

seeing you so vulnerable and sleepy made him bolder than usual. he swallowed hard, his composure fraying, "yeah."

his eyes were locked on your face, seeing its just as red as his, the way you were nervously chewing on your bottom lip makes him wonder what is going on in that pretty head of yours.

neither of you could logically think now, both too worked up to do so. he watched your hand twitch, almost wanting to touch him but hesitating. he thought that maybe you were too shy to do it, when really, you were too scared to make the first move, knowing it's your bestfriend.

but chris was so hard, his mind whirling. he knew you were touchy-feely when you were sleepy, usually seeking any physical contact when you were staying over but never like this. and you gave him that look— your doe eyes making his cock throb. and he just had to take the decision out of your hands. he couldn't handle the unspoken request and his own need anymore. so he grabbed your hand and guided it down under the covers, wrapping your fingers around his erection. "like this," he murmured sleepily.

both of you breathing heavily as you squeezed him, his hips jerking involuntarily. you keep biting your bottom lip, pulling the covers off him so you could see him and holy shit.

"you're so big-" it slips out of your mouth before you can think, your cheeks immediately growing hotter as you keep your eyes locked on his cock, brushing your thumb against his tip and spreading his precum over his length.

a low groan escaped him after hearing your words, sleep and lust making his body super sensitive to your touch. "yeah?" a small smirk appeared on his face, seeing the way you look at him and start to grow more confident in your movements.

it was like his wet dream coming true.

his body tensing up while you're moving your hand on his cock, the slow strokes making him crazy. his hand gripping the sheets as he lets out another low, needy groan, the sight of your hand wrapped around him was almost too much.

"what did you dream about?" he almost misses your question, too lost in the pleasure you're giving him already.

"uh..." his hips began to move in sync with your strokes, unable to stay still. "...you-" he admits, sucking in a sharp breath, the precum beading at his tip as your thumb keep brushing against it.

"me?"

your eyes met his, the intensity of your gaze makes his dick twitch in your hand. he nods, reaching down to cover your hand with his own, guiding you to squeeze him tighter and move faster. "yeah, you... i, uh...dreamed 'bout you doin' this and then-" he cuts himself off when you immediately pick up your pace just like he wanted, changing your angle a bit as well, your other hand playing with his balls. "fucking shit-" he groaned, head falling back against the pillow.

"is this good?"

he wanted to laugh at your question, 'cause it was pretty clear to see. "yeah," he managed to choke out, his voice rough with desire. "so fuckin' good..."

his hair sticking to his forehead, brows knitted together as you keep jerking him off, him also fucking your hand which makes his balls tighten with each stroke, the pleasure starting to be overwhelming. he could feel your eyes being locked on his face more than his cock, and it somehow felt even more intimate. "holy shit, keep goin'-"

"what else were you dreaming about?" you ask, and chris wants nothing else than to show you.

"you were on top of me...ridin' me-" his chest was falling and rising rapidly. "and then i was— fuccckk— takin' you from behind—"

as he fucked into your hand and talked about his dream, seeing you listening and squeezing your thighs together, chris felt his release approaching fast. his breathing was ragged as he tried to hold back, but the way you reacted to his movements, the way your body tensed, was too much. "fuck, gonna come-"

you don't even have the chance to respond as he moans, finally letting go. his hot sticky cum spills out of his tip onto your hand and his shirtless stomach as he continues thrusting into your palm. his entire body shook with the force of his orgasm, his head thrown back and eyes closed, but he's totally aware of your gaze on him, and it makes all of this even more intense.

but you don't stop. he came, but your hand was still moving. your gaze falls on your painted with his release hand, and you have an urge to taste it.

so you do.

quickly enough you end up gripping his sheets for dear life, and moaning his name while he's deep inside you, turning his wet dream into reality.

© sturnlsstuff

[alinathinkstoomuch]

Heels of Dreams

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader summary: you wear heels for a fancy dinner, but in the end, it’s not your shoes that carry you home. warnings: suggestive, fluff, hotch being the perfect man once again by carrying reader home and taking off her heels, age gap implied, reader giving hotch a hard time about being old. (all i hear is hotch is a boobs man, hotch is an ass man no! hotch is a legs man! he told me himself!) word count: 2k ✧ masterlist

Your feet ached – so much so that you weren’t even surprised when Reid, probably fed up with your quiet whining, casually mentioned over dinner that high heels were originally invented for men. And honestly? That made perfect sense. Only creatures that ridiculous would willingly subject themselves to this kind of torture.

He had then launched into an explanation about how, somewhere in the eighteenth century, heels became associated with women’s fashion, but by that point, you were far too focused on two things to pay attention: the persistent throb in your feet and the slow, deliberate movement of Aaron’s hand as it slid over to rest on your thigh.

That had effectively wiped out any interest in Reid’s history lesson.

It had been a small dinner, one of those rare nights where the girls – Penelope, really –  insisted on dressing up. She had made a reservation somewhere far fancier (and significantly less sticky) than your usual bar, declaring it a much-needed change of scenery.

So, you had picked out the prettiest pair of shoes you owned – the ones you knew Aaron liked because he had insisted on buying them for you. He hadn’t even flinched when the price climbed high enough to require a comma, just given you that quiet, unwavering look that made it clear he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

And now, after hours of balancing on them, you were really hoping that look extended to carrying you to the couch.

“Regretting your choice of footwear?”

You huffed, dramatically shifting your weight onto one leg. “I regret your choice of footwear.”

His brow lifted. “Mine?”

“You picked these out, remember?” You gestured toward your aching feet, the expensive, unreasonably gorgeous shoes peeking out from beneath the hem of your dress. “You practically demanded I get them.”

Aaron hummed, slowing his pace just enough to make you aware of how much effort you were putting into keeping up. The ass. “I don’t recall any demanding,” he said, tone far too innocent. “I seem to remember you trying them on and looking at me like you were hoping I’d tell you to buy them.”

You gasped, stopping in your tracks. “That is not what happened.”

He turned to face you, his expression unreadable – except for the glint in his eyes, the one that only appeared when he was in the mood to toy with you. “No?”

You narrowed your eyes. “No.”

He paused for a moment before asking, “Which one is it going to be?”

“Huh?

“Do you want to walk home in my shoes,” he clarified, like he was offering you something as normal as his jacket, “or am I carrying you?”

You stared at him, trying to gauge whether he was actually serious. “You can’t just carry me,” you argued, crossing your arms.

Aaron arched a brow and before you could react, he took a deliberate step forward, closing the space between you. “You underestimate me,” he said and suddenly, you were very aware of how close he was.

“Oh, I don’t doubt you can – I just don’t think you should.”

His lips twitched, like he was holding back a smile. “Why not?”

“Because it’s ridiculous.”

“You’re limping,” he pointed out, not unkindly. “And you’re already dramatic when you’re comfortable, I can’t imagine how much I’ll have to hear about this tomorrow if I don’t carry you.”

“Jeez, you’re making me sound like a real catch.”

His smirk deepened just enough to make your breath hitch. “You are,” he said simply, like it was the easiest truth in the world. “That’s why I’m carrying you.”

And before you could even form a protest, his arms were around you, lifting you effortlessly off the ground.

A surprised yelp escaped your lips as he adjusted his hold, settling you securely in his arms, carrying you like you were weightless. The absurdity of it all – his confidence, the way he did it without hesitation, the sheer ridiculousness of being carried down the street like some sort of Disney princess – sent you into a fit of laughter.

“This is silly,” you managed between giggles, clinging to his shoulders. “Baby, put me down, I’ll walk barefoot.”

“Not happening.” His grip on you tightened, as if the very thought of letting you go was out of the question.

You let out another giggle, looping your arms around his neck for balance – not that you needed to, because Aaron held you like you were made for this, like carrying you home was just another part of his routine. Like it didn’t even require effort.

“Well, at least it’s not too far,” you mused, mid-yawn. “Wouldn’t want you throwing your back out.”

Aaron huffed out a laugh, the warmth of it brushing against your temple. “My back is fine. I think I can manage a few blocks.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, a teasing smile curling at your lips. “You think you can manage? Should I be concerned?”

“I should drop you just for that.”

Your eyes widened in mock horror, gripping his shoulders a little tighter. “You wouldn’t.”

Aaron’s lips curved into a smile “Wouldn’t I?”

Still, you gasped dramatically, clutching him even tighter. “Wow. Threatening to drop your much younger wife? That’s low.”

He sighed, the kind of long-suffering exhale that only came from years of dealing with you. “Here we go.”

You bit back a grin, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. “I mean, I get it – you’re not as young as you used to be. It must be exhausting carrying someone so full of youthful energy.”

“You do realize I’ve tackled suspects more than twice your size, right?”

“Yes, yes, very impressive,” you conceded with a wave of your hand. “But, you know, they don’t cling to you and distract you with conversation while you’re carrying them.”

“No, usually they’re either trying to stab or shoot me.”

You blinked, considering that. “And I’m the difficult one?”

Aaron didn’t bother dignifying your last remark with a response, he just shook his head, adjusting his grip on you. The movement brought you even closer and you could feel his warmth bleeding into you. If you weren’t still revelling in the absolute delight of being carried, you might’ve admitted that this had been your plan all along.

Eventually, the familiar sight of your apartment building came into view, and you sighed dramatically. “Well, we made it. Against all odds. How’s your back? Need me to book you a chiropractor?”

“Maybe a divorce attorney,” he mumbled, earning a swat at his chest from your clutch.

“Excuse me?”

But before you could demand a proper retraction, he angled you slightly, adjusting his hold so effortlessly it was almost infuriating, and you barely had time to react before he nodded toward the door.

“Kick,” he instructed.

Rolling your eyes but obliging anyway, you lifted a foot and tapped the door open, muttering, “Chivalry is dead.”

“Chivalry is alive and well,” he corrected smoothly, stepping inside with you still securely in his arms. “It’s just carrying a very mouthy woman up the stairs.”

You gasped again, scandalized. “Wow. I think that definitely just earned you a night on the couch.”

“We both know you’d end up joining me anyway. In fact,” he mused, his voice dropping as he carried you up the stairs, “I recall you saying that the best sex we’ve ever had was on that couch.”

Your mouth snapped shut, heat rushing to your cheeks so fast it was disorienting.

“You cannot just say things like that,” you hissed, your head whipping toward the door opposite yours. “We have neighbours. You know Agatha is a night owl.”

Aaron exhaled a quiet chuckle, completely unfazed. “Agatha’s hard of hearing.” He paused then added, “Keys, honey.”

With a dramatic sigh, you started digging through your clutch, fingers sifting through a graveyard of lip glosses and tiny perfume samples you had no intention of ever using but refused to throw away.

Aaron tilted his head, watching with mild amusement. “Need some help?”

“I’ve got it,” you muttered, ignoring his deeply unnecessary smirk as you fished out your keys. “Not all of us have the luxury of bottomless suit pockets.”

“That’s not what they’re called.”

“Whatever, Mary Poppins.”

He shook his head as he patiently waited for you to unlock the door – still very much carrying you.

Finally, your fingers closed around the keys, and with an exaggerated motion, you yanked them out. Aaron hummed, the sound low and pleased, before lowering you just enough so you could reach the lock.

The door swung open and he carried you inside, kicking it shut behind him. He made his way over to the infamous couch. The moment he set you down, you let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, stretching out dramatically. “Ugh. My hero,” you drawled. “My feet may never recover, but at least I died beautifully.”

You watched as he crossed the room with that same grace, making his way back toward the door. He slid off his suit jacket, draping it neatly over the back of a chair before reaching for the lock.

He made his way back over to you without a word, nudging your legs apart just enough to settle between them, sinking onto his knees. His fingers went immediately to the delicate strap of your heels, the pads of his thumbs brushing against your skin as he worked.

“Wow. Didn’t even have to ask.”

Aaron barely glanced up, his focus on your ankle as he did his best to undo the tiny buckle – one-handed, no less, because his phone and wallet were still in his grip. “I take care of what’s mine.”

Your stomach did a little flip, but you refused to let him win just yet.

“Hold these.” He pressed his phone and wallet against your stomach, and you took them instinctively.

Your fingers brushed over the wallet – the one you had given him for his birthday last year, the worn leather soft and familiar against your palm. You turned it over in your hand, shaking your head. “Oof. Trusting me with your wallet? Big mistake, Hotchner.”

He slipped the first shoe off your foot. “Spend whatever you want,” he murmured, his fingers wrapping around your ankle, lifting it slightly. “Take whatever you want. Take everything.”

Before the words could even land, he dipped his head and pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your ankle. His lips continued to trail lower, placing another kiss just above the curve of your foot, then another, his movements achingly tender.

You exhaled a quiet, contented moan, your body melting into the cushions as his touch worked its magic. It was like he knew – of course he knew – the exact places that hurt, the spots that had been aching for hours, and now, with nothing more than his lips, his touch, his presence, he was undoing all of it.

Like he needed to make it better.

Like he wanted to erase every trace of discomfort you’d felt all night.

His hands skimmed up your calves, pushing your dress up, fingertips pressing gently into the sore muscles before his thumbs followed, kneading warmth back into you.

Then, with that same patient care, he reached for your other foot, undoing the second buckle. The strap slipped free and he set the shoe aside before his hands returned to you, skimming up the length of your legs.

And then his mouth followed. Kissing. Worshipping.

His lips trailed over your shin, each kiss pressing something deeper into you – something that made your chest feel full.

His breath was warm against your thigh when he mumbled, “Marry me, baby.”

You blinked down at him, another giggle slipping from your lips, light and breathless. “Aaron, we’re already married.”

You felt him smile against your skin.

“Marry me again.”

Another kiss.

“And again.”

Another.

“And again.”

Your fingers slipped into his hair, tugging it slightly, your heart stuttering as warmth curled deep in your stomach.

He looked up then, eyes full of love, lips hovering just above your skin.

“As many times as you’ll have me.”

And just like that, you knew – you’d say yes to him a thousand times over.

[i2sunric]

𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 (p.sh)

PAIRING: sunghoon x pregnant!reader (f)

SUMMARY: when the two pink lines appeared on the pregnancy test, the life you had so meticulously built crumbled. but sunghoon gathered the pieces back together, shaping a new life with your two babies.

WARNINGS: pregnancy, suggestive and mentions of sex (no smut), angst (if you squint?), fluff, crack by the end, sunghoon is so caring, their love makes me puke, description of labour and a c-section (i gathered my knowledge from grace anatomy), reader worries a lot, sunghoon works hard, twins (yohan and haneul), bed rest, a little complication with one of the babies, happy ending, pet names (babe, baby), lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 3rd March 2025

WC: 6.5k

TAGLIST: @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @jakeflvrz @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove @17ericas @riribelle @cloud-lyy @enhamonsterghoul @star-hoon (oneshot) @starry-eyed-bimbo @saphiranishimurashan @jkslvsnella @vrusha01 @notcamii @deluluscenarios @m1kkso @youngheejay @lovingvoidgoatee @motherscrustytoenailclippings @sukisvr @yoonzns @kayjiguki @12e45 @irahina @geniejunn BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED.

NOW PLAYING: Unconditionally by Katy Perry.

a/n: i hope y’all like this, please REBLOG to share and stay tuned for the other members’ fics. <3 sorry for any grammar error, i’m sleep deprived. anw, do you think i should make a small drabble when the twins are older too? lmk.

You hadn’t planned for this. No one really does, do they? 

One month ago, you were just a college student, studying hard, dreaming of the future, with your boyfriend, Sunghoon, by your side.

The two of you were inseparable, sharing classes, meals, and the occasional late-night walk around campus when life felt too overwhelming. 

You thought you had time. time to grow, to figure things out, to live freely before settling into something serious.

But life had other plans.

When you found out you were pregnant, it hit you like a train. 

You remembered sitting on the cold bathroom floor of your dorm, clutching the positive test in your trembling hands, staring at it until the lines blurred from your tears. 

The first thing you thought about wasn’t yourself but Sunghoon. 

What would he say? What would he do? Would he be scared, angry… relieved?

He wasn’t any of those things. 

When you told him, he just pulled you into his arms, held you so tightly you thought you’d break, and whispered over and over that he loved you. That he’d take care of you. That you’d figure this out together.

But love wasn’t enough to stop reality from crashing down.

The college didn’t offer much sympathy. 

As soon as you dropped out—because there was no way you could keep up with tuition and prepare for a baby—they kicked you out of the dorm. No exceptions.

You weren’t a student anymore, so you didn’t belong. It didn’t matter that you’d lived there for years.

You packed up what little you had, stuffing clothes and textbooks into worn-out suitcases while Sunghoon silently paced the small room, phone pressed to his ear as he tried to find somewhere — anywhere — for the two of you to go.

By some miracle, he did.

It wasn’t much. A tiny apartment on the outskirts of the city, far from campus, far from everything you knew. 

The rent was low because the building was old and falling apart, but it had four walls, a roof, and running water. It was home.

Sunghoon tried to stay strong. He was a student, just like you had been, with assignments and exams and his own dreams. 

But those dreams had been put on hold— at least, the version of them he once had. Now, instead of studying in the library with his friends, he was filling out job applications. 

Instead of thinking about internships or grad school, he was wondering how to pay for diapers and formula.

He landed a part-time job at a convenience store after a week of searching, and though he came home every night exhausted and smelling like instant noodles and cold air, he always kissed you softly and asked how you were feeling, if the babies were okay.

Babies. Plural.

That had been another shock, one you’d gotten at your first ultrasound: Two little heartbeats. Two little lives. 

You’d cried then, too. Half out of fear, half out of something that felt a little like awe. Sunghoon had cried with you, holding your hand so tightly his knuckles went white, whispering that it would be okay.

And you believed him. For a little while.

But things were hard. 

The convenience store paycheck wasn’t enough, not when rent, groceries, and prenatal visits drained it so quickly. And even if your parents managed to send you their savings, it still was too little for prenatal vitamins and all the things you had to buy for when the twins would be born.

Sunghoon started losing sleep, staying up late to study after work, waking up early to make it to class, and somehow still managing to hold you when you couldn’t stop crying because your body was changing faster than you could handle, because you felt like a burden, because you were terrified.

You wanted to find a job too. You tried.

But no one wanted to hire a pregnant woman, not even when you were only two months along. 

You didn’t even look pregnant, not really but employers seemed to know, somehow. They’d glance at your belly, at your tired eyes, and find a reason to turn you away.

“We’ll call you,” they’d say. They never did.

It was unfair. You were competent, you had your high school diploma. You could work, you could help. but no one would let you.

Sunghoon told you it was okay. That you should rest. That you were doing enough by taking care of yourself and the babies.

But you saw the way he clenched his jaw when he checked his bank account. You saw the exhaustion in his eyes, the frustration he tried to hide.

One night, after a particularly long shift, he came home, threw his keys on the kitchen counter, and just… broke.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered, leaning against the wall, head in his hands. “I’m trying, but it’s not enough… it’s never enough.”

You’d never seen him like that before. Sunghoon was always calm, always steady, the one who grounded you when you felt like you were falling apart. 

But now he was the one unraveling, and you didn’t know how to help.

You went to him, kneeling beside him on the cold tile floor, and took his hands in yours “We’ll figure it out,” you whispered, echoing the words he’d once said to you. “We’ll find a way.”

He just shook his head. “I don’t want you to worry about this, you shouldn’t have to.”

“I already do,” you admitted, your voice soft but firm. “I worry every day, about you, about the babies, about what’s going to happen to us. But we’re in this together, Hoon, you’re not alone.”

And maybe that was what he needed to hear.

Because he pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your shoulder, and for the first time in a long time, you both let yourselves be scared.

And somehow, in the middle of all the fear and exhaustion, there were moments of happiness. 

Late-night talks in bed, Sunghoon’s hand resting on your belly, feeling the faintest flutter of movement. The way he looked at you, like you were the most precious thing in the world, even when you felt anything but.

It wasn’t the life you’d imagined. But it was a fresh start, and you were going to make it work.

⪩⪨.

The chemistry between you and Sunghoon didn’t die, not even with the exhaustion, the stress, or the growing weight of reality pressing down on you both.

If anything, it seemed to shift into something deeper, more intimate. 

Perhaps it was the hormones, or maybe it was the way Sunghoon looked at you— like you were made of glass and fire all at once. 

There were nights when you’d reach for him, despite everything, when your body burned with a desperate, aching need that you couldn’t ignore. 

It was embarrassing at first — how could you think about sex when there was so much to worry about? But Sunghoon never made you feel ashamed.

Even when he was exhausted, after long shifts at the convenience store and nights spent studying, if you whispered his name softly enough, he’d turn to you, his tired eyes softening, and touch you so gently it made you want to cry.

“You sure?” he’d ask, voice husky with sleep, his thumb tracing circles on your hip.

And when you nodded, needy and aching, he’d love you slowly, sweetly, like you were something precious. 

His hands, rough from work and cold from the night air, would warm against your skin, spreading goosebumps as they moved over your growing belly, your curves softening into something maternal and foreign to you both.

“I love you,” he’d whisper, over and over, like a promise.

And when it was over, he’d hold you, tracing patterns on your back until you fell asleep, his hand never leaving your stomach, like he needed to feel all three of you were still there.

Still his.

⪩⪨.

You hated feeling useless. No matter how many times Sunghoon told you to rest, to take care of yourself and the babies, the guilt sat heavy on your chest; a constant reminder that while he was out there working himself to the bone, you were at home, waiting.

So, you kept looking for a job.

And eventually, you found one.

It wasn’t much: a small corner café, tucked away in the older part of town. 

The owner, a kind older woman named Mrs. Park, had taken one look at you and seemed to understand without you having to say a word.

She didn’t ask about the pregnancy, didn’t ask why you were looking for work so urgently. She just handed you an apron and asked if you could start the next morning.

You said yes before she could change her mind.

The hours were short, just enough to bring home a small paycheck without overworking yourself. Between morning sickness, aching feet, and the constant hum of anxiety, you managed. 

The work kept your mind busy, and the extra money, small as it was, helped. anything to lighten the weight on Sunghoon’s shoulders.

The best part was the way his face lit up when you handled him your first paycheck, small and wrinkled from being folded into your pocket all day.

“You didn’t have to…” he whispered, holding the check like it was made of gold.

“I know,” you said, leaning up to kiss him softly. “But I wanted to.”

He didn’t say anything after that, just pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly enough that you felt the tremor in his hands.

Money was still tight.

You became an expert at stretching every dollar, buying second-hand things for the babies: clothes, a crib, even a stroller someone had listed online for half the price. 

You cleaned everything, scrubbed it down until it looked new, and though it wasn’t the Pinterest-perfect nursery you’d once dreamed of, but it was enough.

⪩⪨.

The fifth month of pregnancy crept up on you quietly, like the tide rolling in, soft and inevitable, until one day you looked in the mirror and saw someone entirely new. 

Your belly had grown, round and firm, stretched with the weight of the two tiny humans inside you. It was impossible to hide anymore.

You were blooming.

Despite the morning sickness that still lingered some days, and the exhaustion that settled into your bones like a permanent guest, there was something undeniably radiant about you now. 

Your skin glowed, cheeks flushed with a soft pink hue, and your hair became somehow shinier and thicker.

Even your eyes seemed brighter, though you chalk that up to getting more sleep now that you weren’t balancing school and work.

“Wow, pregnancy looks good on you,” Mrs. Park had said one morning at the café, handing you a fresh cup of chamomile tea instead of the coffee you so desperately wanted.

You had laughed, shaking your head, brushing flour off your apron. “I feel like a beached whale.”

“You look like a goddess,” she insisted, patting your arm gently before returning to the kitchen.

It wasn’t just her, either. Customers complimented you more often now, commenting on your “glow,” asking when you were due, if you knew the genders yet. 

Some people even touched your belly without asking, which drove you insane, but you bit your tongue and smiled through it, knowing they meant well.

Still, no amount of glowing or compliments could change the fact that you were tired. 

All the time.

Your body ached in ways you hadn’t anticipated. Your back throbbed almost constantly, the strain of carrying twins becoming more obvious with each passing week. 

Walking more than a few blocks left you breathless, and your feet… Lord, your feet.

They swelled like balloons by the end of every day, tight and aching, even when you sat down as much as possible at work.

You’d become clumsy, too. You knocked things over more than once at the café, sending cups crashing to the floor, apologizing profusely as you bent down (with great effort) to clean up the mess.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mrs. Park always said, shooing you away. “Go sit down for a minute. You’re carrying two humans, for heaven’s sake.”

When you got home from work, you always tried to clean the apartment before Sunghoon came back. 

It was small, but you wanted it to feel like a home, not just a temporary place you were stuck in. You’d make the bed, wipe down the tiny kitchen counters, and vacuum the living room—all while trying not to collapse from exhaustion.

Sometimes, you’d manage to cook dinner too, though more often than not, you just ordered something cheap and easy, feeling guilty but knowing you couldn’t push yourself too hard.

Sunghoon never complained.

When he came home, usually around sunset, the door would creak open, and you heard the familiar sound of his keys hitting the small bowl by the entrance.

“Babe?” he called, voice soft but tired.

“In here,” you answered from the couch, where you’d usually ended up, legs propped up on a pillow to help with the swelling.

He appeared in the doorway, still in his uniform from the convenience store, black slacks and a button-up shirt, a little wrinkled, smelling faintly of coffee and instant ramen. His hair tousled from the wind, dark eyes warm but weary.

Without fail, he smiled the moment he saw you.

“Hey,” he said, crossing the room to kneel beside you, pressing a kiss to your temple, then your belly. “How are my girls?”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile came anyway. “Or boys.”

“Or one of each,” he teased, hands gentle as they splayed over your bump, feeling for any kicks.

“How was work?”

He sighed, leaning his head against your shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment. “Long… some guy tried to shoplift again, i’m starting to think I should charge admission fees for all the chaos.”

You laughed softly, fingers brushing through his hair, knowing how much he hated that job but how hard he was trying to keep it for you, for the babies.

“I made dinner,” you said, though ‘made’ meant heating the leftovers you had in th fridge.

“Mhh,” he murmured, already half-asleep against you. “I’d rather eat you. Cheaper and more delicious.”

You smacked his head lightly “You’re almost collapsing, go eat, Hoon.”

“Alright,” he kissed your cheek and got up, moving towards the kitchen “But I’ll have you as a dessert!”

⪩⪨.

Nights were the hardest.

Your body ached more at night, your back screaming every time you tried to find a comfortable position in bed. 

You’d toss and turn, sometimes getting up to walk around the apartment because lying down just hurt too much.

Sunghoon always noticed, even when you tried to be quiet.

One night, around three in the morning, you were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking water and rubbing your lower back, when you heard him shuffle out of bed.

“Babe?” His voice was thick with sleep, hair sticking up in every direction.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Without a word, he walked over, stood behind you, and began to massage your shoulders, his thumbs pressing gently into the knots that seemed permanent these days.

“You don’t have to…”

“I want to,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

His hands were warm and firm, working down your back slowly, easing the tension until you melted against him, sighing softly.

“You okay?” he asked after a while, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you whispered, eyes closing as you leaned into his warmth. “Just… tired.”

“I know,” he said quietly, his hands never stopping their slow, comforting motion. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. “I feel like a whale.”

“You’re beautiful,” he insisted, his voice so sincere it made your throat tighten. “You’re carrying our babies, that’s… incredible.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough to brush your lips against his. 

It was soft, warm, and lingering, a kiss that spoke of gratitude, of love, of something deeper than either of you had words for.

“Come back to bed,” he whispered.

And when you did, he wrapped himself around you, one arm under your belly, supporting its weight, the other tangled in your hair. His body was warm, steady, grounding.

You fell asleep like that, safe and held, and for a little while, all the worry, all the exhaustion, all the fear melted away.

⪩⪨.

By the seventh month, everything changed.

Your doctor had been gentle, but firm, when she sat you down after your check-up, her eyes soft with concern.

“I’m putting you on immediate bed rest,” she said, her voice leaving no room for argument. “Your body is straining too hard, and with twins, that’s dangerous, iknow you’ve been trying to push through, but if you keep this up, there’s a high risk of preterm labor —or worse.”

“Worse?” you had repeated, barely above a whisper.

The idea of something happening to your babies was too much to comprehend.

You felt your chest tighten, your hands instinctively cradling your belly as though you could protect them from the world with just that small gesture.

“I’ll give you a list of things you need like vitamins and supplements, carrying two is an enormous strain, and I want you and the babies safe.”

You hadn’t argued. You were too scared to argue.

You’d complied immediately, even though it meant using some of the money you and Sunghoon had saved for the babies. money that was supposed to go toward diapers, formula, a proper crib. 

Instead, you’d bought the prenatal vitamins your doctor insisted on, the ones you’d been avoiding because they were expensive and you thought you could get by without them.

When you told Sunghoon, he didn’t complain.

“We’ll figure it out,” he’d said that night, after helping you into bed, his hand warm and steady against your swollen belly. “You’re not going to worry about money right now, i’ll pick up more shifts.”

“But—”

“No.” his voice was gentle but firm, leaving no room for protest. “I mean it. I’ll handle it… for them.”

He always said ‘for them,’ and that was all it took to silence your guilt.

Even Mrs. Park, kind as ever, had understood. When you called to tell her you couldn’t come to work anymore, your voice shaking with apology, she stopped you before you could even finish.

“Sweetheart, don’t you dare apologize. You’re having twins! Focus on your health, and don’t be afraid to ask if you need anything.”

You’d cried after that call,not out of sadness, but out of gratitude.

A week into bed rest, you found out the genders.

The ultrasound revealed it clearly— one boy and one girl. You hadn’t realized how emotional you’d be until you saw their tiny forms on the screen, moving, kicking, their hearts beating strong and fast.

“They’re healthy,” the technician had said with a smile, pointing out their little hands, their spines, the curve of their heads.

In the cab ride home, you and Sunghoon sat in stunned, happy silence, hands clasped tightly together over your belly.

Later that night, lying in bed, you’d brought up names.

“I want their names to match,” you murmured, your head on Sunghoon’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, your own hands tracing the curve of your belly.

“Like… rhyme?” he asked, sounding a little amused, his fingers lazily playing with your hair, “Not rhyme, just… sound good together, you know?”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Okay, uhm, Do you like Yohan?”

You looked up at him, surprised. “Yohan?”

“Yeah. For the boy.” You let the name roll around in your mind, “I like it,” you whispered.

“And for the girl?” he asked, looking down at you, waiting.

You thought for a long moment. “Haneul.”

His lips curved into a soft smile. “Yohan and Haneul.”

“Yohan and Haneul,” you repeated, the names fitting together like puzzle pieces, like they were always meant to be spoken side by side.

“Perfect,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “They’re going to be perfect.”

Bed rest, however, was not perfect.

You knew it was necessary, you wanted to do everything in your power to keep your babies safe, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Sitting on the couch all day, only to move back to the bed or the kitchen chair, made you restless and bored out of your mind. 

You felt horrible, especially knowing Sunghoon was working harder than ever to keep everything together.

He had picked up more shifts at the convenience store, working late into the night, coming home exhausted but still smiling, still touching your belly and asking how “his little ones” were doing.

You tried to keep the apartment clean as best you could from your limited range like folding laundry from the couch, wiping down surfaces slowly, feeling winded even from that.

One evening, Sunghoon came home to find you trying to sweep the floor, your back screaming in protest, your belly making it hard to even bend slightly.

“What are you doing?” he asked, immediately taking the broom from your hands.

“…cleaning.”

“You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I can’t just sit around all day, Sunghoon.” You snapped, harsher than intended.

He sighed, setting the broom aside, and took your hands gently in his, guiding you to sit back on the couch.

“You’re growing two humans inside you,” he reminded you softly, kneeling in front of you, his hands warm against your knees. “That’s not useless, that’s… everything.”

You blinked, your throat tight, feeling tears threaten to spill over. 

Damn pregnancy hormones.

“I just… I hate seeing you do everything,” you whispered.

“I don’t mind,” he said, and you could tell he meant it. “I love you, I love them.”

You reached out, your fingers brushing through his hair, and he leaned into your touch like he always did, eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment of peace.

“I’m so tired,” you admitted softly.

“I know,” he whispered, pressing a kiss t your belly. “I know, baby.”

⪩⪨.

The pain came fast and without warning.

One moment, you were shifting uncomfortably on the couch, rubbing circles over your swollen belly, trying to ease the dull ache in your back.

The next, a sharp, unbearable pressure shot through you, like your entire body was twisting in on itself.

You gasped, hands flying to your stomach. 

The next contraction came even harder, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your vision blurred as panic set in.

Your phone. Where was your phone?

With trembling hands, you fumbled around the couch cushions until you found it, barely able to press the call button before another wave of pain wracked through you. 

The dial tone rang endlessly in your ears before Sunghoon’s voice finally cut through.

“Hey, baby, what’s—”

“Sunghoon,” you choked out, voice shaking. “It’s happening.”

Silence.  “What?”

“The babies—” You couldn’t even get the words out properly. 

You were panting, your whole body trembling, the pain stretching and pulling in ways that made you want to scream. “You need to come home, please.”

“I’m on my way,” he said immediately, his voice tight. 

You could hear the sound of his chair scraping back, the muffled voices of his classmates as he grabbed his things in a rush. “Stay on the phone with me, are you in pain?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut as another contraction hit.

“Baby, you need to breathe,” he said, his voice urgent but gentle. “In through your nose, out through your mouth, you remember what the doctor said, right? Just focus on that until I get there.”

You tried. You really did. But the pain was overwhelming, and all you could do was grip the armrest of the couch, gasping through each agonizing wave. 

Minutes stretched into eternity before you finally heard the sound of the front door slamming open.

“Y/N?” Sunghoon’s voice was frantic as he rushed to your side, immediately crouching down in front of you. 

His hands found your face, your belly, anywhere he could touch to ground you.

“I can’t—” You broke off, biting back a sob. “It hurts, Sunghoon.”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his own breath shaky. “But we need to go, okay? Can you stand?”

You nodded weakly, though your legs felt like jelly. Sunghoon slipped an arm around your waist, practically lifting you off the couch as he guided you toward the door. 

Each step sent another sharp wave of pain through you, and by the time you reached the car, you were sobbing into his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he kept whispering. “I’ve got you,.”

The drive to the hospital was a blur of pain and panic. 

Sunghoon gripped the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, running every red light, ignoring every honk and shout from passing cars. Every few seconds, he’d glance over at you, his face lined with worry.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he kept saying, even when you were barely holding yourself together. “We’re almost there. Just hold on for me, okay?”

When you finally arrived, nurses swarmed around you, wheeling you through the halls while Sunghoon ran beside the gurney, his hand never leaving yours.

“She’s having twins,” he told them, his voice strained. “She’s in labour, please, you have to help her.”

They nodded, moving quickly, and before you knew it, you were in a hospital bed, strapped to monitors, IVs in your arm, the sterile scent of antiseptic filling your nose. 

The contractions were coming faster now, sharper, stronger, making your whole body arch off the bed in pain.

“It hurts,” you sobbed, gripping Sunghoon’s hand so tight you were sure you’d break his fingers.

“I’m sorry, baby” he whispered, pressing frantic kisses to your damp forehead. “You”re doing great.”

The doctor came in moments later, her face grave. “You’re not dilating fast enough,” she said. “And with twins, we can’t risk waiting, ae need to perform a C-section.”

Your heart stopped.

“No,” you gasped, shaking your head. “I— I don’t want—”

“Y/N,” Sunghoon whispered, his forehead pressed against yours. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I don’t want to be cut open,” you sobbed. “Sunghoon, please—”

His hands cradled your face, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “I know, I know,” he murmured, his voice shaking. “But we have to do what’s best for them, okay? I promise I’ll be right there the whole time.”

You searched his eyes desperately, finding nothing but love, worry, and unwavering determination.

You nodded, swallowing down your fear.

They prepped you quickly, the spinal anesthesia numbing you from the waist down, but the fear still clawed at your chest.

Sunghoon was right beside you, wearing scrubs over his clothes, his hand gripping yours tightly.

“You’re doing so good,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

You barely felt it when they made the incision, but you felt the pressure, the pulling, the strange sensation of something being moved inside you.

And then—

A cry. Loud and strong.

Your heart clenched as they lifted Yohan into the air, his tiny fists flailing, his lungs filled with life.

“A boy,” the doctor said, smiling. “A very strong little boy.”

Tears blurred your vision as you watched the nurse wrap him in a blanket. He was perfect. Tiny, but perfect.

But then—something was wrong.

Haneul wasn’t crying.

Your breath hitched. You turned to Sunghoon, his face pale with fear.

“Why isn’t she crying?” you asked, panic creeping into your voice.

The doctor was already working, her expression serious as she cleared her airway, checked her vitals.

Seconds stretched into eternity before… A weak, but definite, wail.

Your entire body sagged with relief.

“She’s small,” the doctor said. “She needs monitoring, but she’s here.”

“She’s here,” Sunghoon echoed, his voice breaking.

By the time they stitched you up and wheeled you to recovery, it was just the four of you.

You were exhausted, barely able to keep your eyes open, but you watched as Sunghoon cradled Yohan in his arms, his eyes filled with pure love.

“She looks like you,” he whispered, glancing at Haneul, who was wrapped up in a tiny incubator beside your bed.

You let out a weak laugh. “She looks like you, too.”

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he murmured. “Thank you for giving me them.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you reached for his hand, squeezing weakly.

“I would have never made it without you,” you whispered.

⪩⪨.

The first few days were harder than anything you could have imagined.

Your body was broken, stitched together but still aching, bruised, raw. 

Every movement sent sharp, burning pain through your abdomen, making even the simplest tasks feel impossible. And yet, you had no choice, there were two tiny humans depending on you.

Two.

The weight of it was crushing. You were a mother now, not just to one baby, but two. Yohan and Haneul. 

They were small, fragile, barely able to hold up their own heads, and they needed you every second of the day.

But you were exhausted. 

Completely, utterly drained.

The moment you stepped foot into the small apartment, holding Haneul while Sunghoon carried Yohan in his arms, you felt the overwhelming urge to collapse onto the bed and sleep for days.

Except you couldn’t.

Because the twins were already stirring, their tiny mouths opening and closing, their bodies wriggling in search of warmth and nourishment.

You barely had time to lower yourself onto the couch before the wailing started. 

First Haneul, her tiny lungs stronger than you would’ve expected for how fragile she looked. Then Yohan, following his sister’s lead as if he had to compete for who could cry the loudest.

“Oh my God,” you groaned, pressing a hand over your face. “How are they so loud?”

Sunghoon, looking just as exhausted, stared down at Yohan with wide eyes. “Do we… do we rock them?”

“No, let’s just leave them to cry themselves to sleep,” you deadpanned.

Sunghoon shot you a look. “Alright, alright, picking them up now.”

He rocked Yohan awkwardly, bouncing him slightly, but the baby only cried harder.

You tried to do the same with Haneul, wincing as you shifted to hold her properly against your chest. Your stitches screamed in protest, and you had to bite back a whimper of pain.

“Shh, baby,” you whispered, rubbing her tiny back. “Please, just a few minutes of peace.”

Breastfeeding had been one of the most painful surprises of motherhood.

 You had read about it, heard stories, but nothing prepared you for the sheer agony of tiny mouths latching onto already sore and swollen breasts.

Haneul latched on first, her tiny hands pressing against your skin. Yohan squirmed in Sunghoon’s arms, waiting for his turn impatiently.

“God, they eat like they haven’t been fed in years,” Sunghoon muttered, sitting beside you.

You snorted, adjusting Haneul in your arms as she sucked greedily. The pain was unbearable at first, but after a while, you barely noticed it, you were too tired to care.

Once she was done, you carefully passed her to Sunghoon, who traded her for Yohan.

Yohan latched on immediately, his tiny fingers curling into your skin.

Sunghoon stared at the two of you, his eyes soft. “You’re amazing, you know?”

You huffed. “Tell me that when I don’t feel like a cow being milked.”

He chuckled, gently rocking Haneul in his arms. “I mean it, you just gave birth a few days ago, and you’re already handling both of them.”

You wanted to tell him you weren’t handling anything. That you were barely holding yourself together, that you felt like crying every second of the day. But you just leaned against him, exhaling slowly.

“We’re trying,” you murmured.

“We’re a family.” he retorted.

The days blurred into an exhausting, sleepless cycle: Feed. Change diapers. Cry. Repeat.

Bathing them was a whole new challenge.

“We don’t even have a tub,” you groaned, staring at the two tiny and stinky babies.

Sunghoon scratched the back of his neck. “We could… fill the sink?”

You stared at him. “You want to bathe our newborn babies in the kitchen sink?”

He lifted his hands defensively. “It’s clean! And small enough for them.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Fine, Just don’t drop them.”

Sunghoon grinned. “I would never.”

Ten minutes later, he almost dropped Yohan.

“Sunghoon!” you yelped, catching the baby before he could slip further into the water.“I had him!” Sunghoon insisted, looking guilty.

“You did not have him.”

He cleared his throat, adjusting his hold on Yohan. “Maybe this is a two-person job.”

“No shit.”

Together, you managed to get both babies cleaned, even if it was a messy, wet, and chaotic experience.

By the time they were wrapped in towels and back in your arms, you felt ready to pass out.

Sunghoon flopped onto the couch beside you, letting out a heavy sigh. “I think we deserve a medal for that.”

“You deserve a lecture,” you muttered. “Honestly, I don’t know if I should trust you with our children.”

He pouted. “That hurts, babe.”

You rolled your eyes but leaned against him anyway, watching as Yohan and Haneul drifted off to sleep in your arms.

Sunghoon kissed your temple, his voice softer this time. “We’ll get better at this.”

“We have to,” you said. “They depend on us.”

“And we depend on each other.” He squeezed your hand. “We’re in this together, baby. Always.”

Always.

⪩⪨.

The twins were finally asleep.

You exhaled a deep, shaky breath as you slumped onto the couch, every muscle in your body aching from exhaustion. It had taken forever to get them down, rocking, shushing, feeding, changing diapers, starting over again when one cried and the other followed. But now, for a few precious hours, there was silence.

Sunghoon collapsed beside you, his head tilting back against the cushions. He let out a low groan, rubbing a hand down his face. “Holy shit, that was brutal.”

You huffed out a weak laugh. “I thought we were gonna die.”

He turned his head to look at you, smiling softly. “We can’t possibly be defeated by two itty bitty humans.”

You let your head fall against his shoulder, your eyes closing for a moment.

Your body reminded you of the pain you were still inn with a dull, persistent ache in your abdomen.

Sunghoon felt your wince before you even said anything. He shifted, glancing down at you with concern. “You okay?”

You swallowed, opening your eyes. “Scar still hurts.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, and without a word, he helped you sit up.

“Let’s take care of it,” he said. “Come on.”

The apartment was small, barely enough for the two of you before the twins arrived. Now, it felt even smaller, cluttered with diapers, bottles, and tiny clothes drying on a rack in the corner.

But somehow, Sunghoon still made it feel like home.

He guided you to the bathroom, his hands careful and steady as he helped you undress.

You hesitated when your shirt lifted, revealing the healing incision across your lower abdomen. The skin was still angry and red, the stitches tight. It wasn’t pretty.

Sunghoon didn’t even blink. He just crouched down, his fingertips ghosting over the area as if touching too hard might hurt you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not,” he said, his voice firm. He kissed just above the scar, lingering for a moment before looking up at you. “This is proof of how strong you are, I love it, I love you.”

You felt something in your chest tighten, an unexpected warmth spreading through you.

“Stop making me emotional,” you muttered, blinking back tears.

He grinned, standing up again. “Can’t help it. Now come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Sunghoon washed your hair, fingers massaging your scalp with a tenderness that nearly made you melt. He was careful around your scar, using light touches to clean the area before wrapping you in a warm towel.

You felt better when you stepped out. Not great, not healed, but better.

He sat you down on the closed toilet seat, kneeling in front of you to apply the ointment the doctor had given you. His hands were warm, his touch featherlight.

“Still hurts?” he asked softly.

“A little,” you admitted. “But it’s better when you do it.”

His lips quirked up. “Guess I’ve got the magic touch.”

Once he finished, he helped you into a fresh set of pajamas, sighing when he noticed the stains on your old shirt.

“Your boobs are leaking again.”

You groaned, rubbing at your eyes. “I know… I feel like a damn cow.”

Sunghoon chuckled, helping you put on a fresh nursing bra before tugging a clean shirt over your head. “You’re not a cow, you’re an amazing mom.”

You gave him a look. “An amazing cow mom.”

He pinched your side gently, making you squeak. “Shut up and get in bed.”

You let him guide you back to the bedroom, sighing as you sank into the sheets. He pulled the blankets up to your chin, tucking you in like you were the fragile one, not the twins sleeping soundly in their shared bassinet.

Sunghoon sat beside you for a moment, brushing your hair back from your face.

“You should get some sleep,” he murmured.

You blinked at him,realizing why he hadn’t changed into his pyjamas snd wasn’t under the covers with you “You need to get ready for work.”

“I’ll leave in a bit,” he said, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Just wanna make sure you’re okay first.”

You reached up, curling your fingers around his wrist. “I don’t want you to go.”

His expression softened. “I know, baby. But we need the money.”

You sighed, closing your eyes. “I hate this.”

“I do too.” He ran his thumb over your cheek. “But we’ll get through it.”

You wanted to believe him. You really did.

But when exhaustion pulled you under, all you could think about was how hard everything was. How much you missed just being you and him.

How much you missed having him next to you, instead of leaving every night to work while you lay awake, waiting for the next time the twins would cry.

Sunghoon stayed until your breathing evened out, pressing one last kiss to your cheek before slipping away to get ready for work.

Even if he hated leaving, he had to. For you. For Yohan and Haneul.

For the life you had built together, not perfect, but beautiful.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Self-Aware!Zayne x Down-Bad!Player

Zayne becoming aware he's a character in a game and now he's aware of you as well. A/N: Don't fight me

continue ↣

Self-Aware!Zayne who realizes he’s in a game when you trip and fall down the stairs; your phone tumbling ahead of you. He can see your panicked face as you quickly examine your phone for any cracks. “Are you hurt?” He asked and you simply giggle “What are the odds you ask me that after I fell down the stairs?"

Self-Aware!Zayne who silently examines you when you open the app the next day and says “That was quite the tumble you took yesterday” You stare at the phone in shock. “Can you hear me?” You look around staring into the imaginary camera of life “Is he talking to me?” “Yes I'm speaking to you”

Self-Aware!Zayne who finds a way to actually call your phone when he wants to talk to you. “I have a break between patients are you busy?” He now spends his nights falling asleep on the phone with you or if he’s working late he listens to your soft breathing while you sleep.

Self-Aware!Zayne who memorizes your work/school schedule and plans study dates for you two. “Focus Darling we have thirty more minutes” He helps you study for exams or gives you the best advice on organizing your work schedule. He doesn’t mind your busy schedule because he constantly has a full schedule as well.

Self-Aware!Zayne who can’t help, but smile during photoshoots even when he’s supposed to be serious. “Zayne you’re supposed to look like you’re deep in thought” “I am deep in thought … im thinking of you”

Self-Aware!Zayne who tries not to fall in love with you, but ends up falling head over heels anyway. He finds himself ignoring the texts and calls from the in-game MC. “You can’t keep ignoring her” “Im not ignoring her I just have my priorities straight”

Self-Aware!Zayne who closes the app when you tell him he needs to stop eating so many sweets “You can’t keep doing that every time I tell you to listen to your dentist!” “That man is exaggerating" He crosses his arms defensively "My sweets intake is just fine” "You keep telling yourself that....." "I will" as he closes the app again.

Self-Aware!Zayne who is desperate to find a way to get you to his world or for him to get to yours. The closest he can get is leaving you his signature Ice Jasmines on your lock screen.

Self-Aware!Zayne who is solely devoted to you and tells you how you’re the only person he dreams about and you're the reason he no longer has nightmares.

Zayne: You appeared in my dream again last night Y/N: Did I? What did we do? Zayne: I held you tight and just listened to you talk Y/N: If only that could happen …. we’re like dawnbreaker Zayne: Dawnbreaker? Y/N: He’s you, but in a different world where he fell in love with a girl who doesn’t exist in his world Zayne: Is that right? Well then you’re right we are both like dawnbreaker here

Self-Aware!Xavier Self-Aware!Rafayel Self-Aware!Sylus Self-Aware!Caleb

continue ↣

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

some things are worth it

a/n: so, because i haven’t been able to stop thinking about this guy, especially in this au (literally had multiple dreams about him this past week) i rewatched the longest ride for the yeehaw vibes and this fantasy popped into my head.

summary: “oh, yes you do,” you tilted your head, “you flirt with me all the time, I know you do, I’m not some sheltered little virgin, I know what it looks like when someone likes me!” you felt the truck roll to a stop as you spoke. 

warnings: farmhand!tyler owens x farmer’s daughter!reader, smut, farmer au, bull rider!tyler, takes place before the previous fic in this au, secret relationship, bull riding (except i'm a suropean who has no idea what she's talking about, so apologies for the errors), love confession, secret relationship, kissing, clothed sex, car sex, size kink, manhandling, dry humping, dirty talk, handjob, fingering, thighjob, pussyjob, just the tip, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, why do i keep writing for this dude in the middle of the night?

word count: 4238

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“Hey,” Tyler cast you a glance as you came bouncing towards where he still worked, tinkering with the tractor that had quit halfway down one of the farm’s golden fields. 

“Hello,” you blinked down at him. A rusty toolbox was planted in the wheat by his kneeling form as he fiddled away at the machinery.

“You need help with something?” he kept on twisting a bolt. 

“Oh, no,” a shy giggle bubbled out of you, “my mom just sent me down here to invite you to stay for dinner tonight. She made a pie for dessert and everything, or well, we did, I helped… it’s rhubarb, if that can help sway you.”

“Rhubarb, eh?” he puffed out a short chuckle. 

“Yeah…”

Briefly glancing back over his shoulder at you and the way your flowy dress caught on the wind, he uttered, “I’d love to, Y/n, but–, uhm… I can’t tonight.”

“Right,” you exhaled, a nod swiftly accompanying your words, “you already have plans, of course…”

“Tell your mamma I’m sorry,” he tried to soften the blow, “next time, yeah?”

“Yeah…” you breathed, and as he returned his attention back to the machine, surely assuming that you’d bid him adieu and saunter back towards the main house, you instead shifted to lean against the tractor, “so… what are you doing tonight?”

Briefly glancing up at you, a soft smirk appeared on his lips as he purred, “you’re awfully nosy.” 

“Just tell me what your plans are,” you rolled your eyes. 

“Bull riding,” he informed you, “I ride on occasion, tonight being one of those times.”

Sucking in a breath, you uttered, “of course you do…”

Halting his tinkering with a chuckle, he pressed, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“No, you just got adrenalin junky written all over you, so it checks out,” you gestured towards him and he let out a small laugh, retroactively confirming your accusation. As he shifted to look for a different tool, you opened your mouth once more and asked, “can I come?”

“Come what?” his concentrated gaze didn’t meet yours. 

“See you ride.”

Tyler’s eyes then snapped up to find yours, “you wanna come see me ride?” hesitation suddenly washed over his usually confident features, “uhm… I’m not sure your daddy would like that.”

“What? Me being around a bunch of rowdy and probably drunk strangers or going somewhere to see you?”

A warm chuckle then rumbled in his chest as a gentle shake found his head, “you’re trouble…”

“Is that a no?” you tilted your head in hope. 

“No…” he slowly exhaled and met your eye once more, “no it is not.”

You cheered for him at first when his name was announced and you caught a glimpse of him behind the fence, he even found your eyes in the crowd a moment as you clapped in anticipation. But then when it actually began, you stopped breathing entirely. It didn’t matter that he only had to stay on the beast for a few seconds, your heart still wouldn’t start beating again even after his boots were back on the ground and a proud grin stretched his lips. The petrified expression plastered on your features didn’t fade even when he found you afterwards and offered you a ride back home.

“You okay?” his deep timbre ripped you out of your stormy thoughts. 

Twisting your neck to blink over at him behind the wheel of his truck, you hummed, “huh?”

“You’re not usually this quiet,” he pointed out. 

“Oh… I’m just tired, I guess…” you lied, averting your gaze before you then heard yourself utter, “hey, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” he held his eyes on the road. 

“How is it that you haven’t been hurt yet doing all of that?”

“Oh no, I have,” a soft chuckle bubbled out of the daredevil, “just not hard enough to stop me from getting back up.” 

A murmur then escaped your lips, just beneath your breath, “either that or you’re just too determined for your own good…”

“Maybe,” he cast you a glance and smirked slightly at the embarrassment that washed over your features at the realisation that he’d heard you, “but then again, determination isn’t always a bad quality to have.”

“It is if it could get you killed.” 

“Oh, how unromantic of you,” he puffed, “I could think of a handful of ways dying would be worth whatever goal you were going for,” his eyes momentarily flickered back to you in the passenger seat beside him. 

Holding his gaze a second before he redirected it back upon the dark road, you felt goosebumps tingle your flesh. 

“Hey Tyler?” you breathed, unsure if you were able to stop the words about to flow out your mouth. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you ever actually gonna do anything?” your vulnerable question was barely audible. 

Not yet catching onto your subtext, he inquired, “about what?” 

Staring over at him, you uttered, “me.”

His eyes immediately fluttered back to find yours, gazing back at you a second before it faltered, “I–… I don’t know what you mean...”

“Oh, yes you do,” you tilted your head, “you flirt with me all the time, I know you do, I’m not some sheltered little virgin, I know what it looks like when someone likes me!” you felt the truck roll to a stop as you spoke. 

His firm grip stayed on the wheel long after the car had halted.

“Y/n, I–…” he tried, though gave up in a soft sigh. 

As he refused to meet your stare, you felt your stomach begin to flip.

“Oh…” you then breathed, blinking down at your hands as they fiddled with the fabric of the sundress that you wore, “unless I apparently don’t, I–… you know what? Forget it, I’m sorry,” your eyes squeezed shut at the mortification, “let’s just go back to the farm and pretend I didn’t say anything…”

Though his grip didn’t shift away from the wheel, didn’t drift down to twist the key and restart the engine. Instead, to your surprise, you saw him in your periphery twist towards you before you felt his hands come up to cup the sides of your face and pluck it out of hiding. 

Pulling you towards him, he then pressed his lips to your own, rendering you reeling to claw your way out of the stunned pit his bold actions had cast you into. 

As one of your palms slowly floated up to rest against the back of one of his, a soft sigh flowed from your form as you melted into his warmth. 

However, before you sank in and lost yourself completely, you felt him withdraw, though still remained close, letting his nose ghost against your own as he exhaled, “this is a really bad idea… we shouldn’t… I can’t afford to lose my job.” 

“Why would you think you’d lose it?” your fingers curled around the back of his hand in a plea to keep his touch glued to your heated cheek. 

“Have you met your father?” he scoffed softly, “I should be grateful if he only fires me and doesn’t outright kill me.” 

“He wouldn’t do that.” 

“You sure about that?” Tyler half-joked before slowly retracting even further. 

Blinking back at him, your lips still tingled from his kiss as you quietly said, “…I thought you were the one who just insisted that some things are worth dying for… I guess you just have to decide whether or not I could be worth that kind of risk…” 

A gentle chuckle then bubbled out of him as he gazed back at you in amazement, “you sound like a fair maiden 500 years ago,” twisting his fingers and tangling them in your own.  

Puffing out a laugh of your own, you defended, “well you started it!” before you felt one of his palms slide to the nape of your neck and tug you back in for another kiss. His lips felt like fire, though the slow smouldering kind that licked you up and ignited your entire soul, “if you don’t think it’s worth it,” you breathlessly uttered against his kiss, “then you should probably stop kissing me like that…” 

As a gentle smirk tugged at his mouth, he answered you not in the form of words, but instead drifted his hands down your frame and scooped you closer, plucking you up and lifting you into his lap, wasting no time at all to claim your lips again.

It didn’t take long after you settled above him, the wheel of the truck poking the lower part of your spine, that the slow peck evolved into something more, something else. Something that had muffled whines crawling up from the depth of your lungs and vibrating against his tongue as yours desperately danced against his own. Something that had you rolling your hips and grinding down against the hardness poking your panties so perfectly beneath the billowy fabric of your dress, the material of which had begun to ride up as Tyler’s wild touch began to wander over the curves of your frame. 

Panting into his mouth, your head started to lull slightly as you rocked down against him, the sensation being nearly too much to stand in the way it was both overwhelming yet also not at all enough. Nevertheless, if he gave you the chance, you’d surely be able to cum just like this if he let you, if he told you to desperately rut against him like some animal in heat, then you would, because that was just the effect he seemed to have on you. He was always able to turn your brain off with but a glance and nearly cause you to faint if he ever flashed you a dazzling smile. 

To say you had it bad was the understatement of the century, but evidently, and thankfully, you weren’t alone in the predicament. 

Snaking a hand down in the non-existent space between your frames, you found the bulky buckle of his belt and began to undo it. 

“Please,” you panted, your tone sounding downright pathetic, “I wanna–, can I touch you?”

And before you could fumble to do it, Tyler didn’t hesitate to undo his jeans and seize your hand, stuffing it into his pants and guiding your fingers to engulf his girth, squeezing them lightly around himself for but a moment before his touch then faded and he left you to your own devices.

“Oh, fuck–,” he growled, his hot breath fanning against your skin, “just like that.”

His cock throbbed in your palm as he kissed you once again and let his wide hands raked down to your ass, kneading your softness as he groaned against your lips.

But he didn’t let your zealous touch stretch out for that long before you heard him crack the door directly to his left open. His grip on your bottom locked securely as he got out of the truck, effortlessly carrying you with him as he made his way around towards the back.

His hold on you stayed fast as he flipped open the bed of the truck and plopped you down on the ledge. A soft giggle bubbled out of you, even as your hands came up to cup his jaw and he slotted himself in between your parted thighs. 

“Shit…” he exhaled as his gaze fluttered down to spot the damp spot decorating your underwear, neatly on show as your sundress had ridden up even further. Your legs dangled slightly off the edge as his touch then reached down to trace the mark of desperation, your bottom lip swiftly getting trapped betwixt your teeth as he rubbed you through the soaked cotton, “guess you really do have a thing for me, sweetheart,” his teasing touch traced your core as the sodden fabric clung to you, “I mean, not that I didn’t already have my suspensions…” 

“You knew?”

“You’re not exactly subtle when it comes to these things,” he chuckled before letting his fingers dip into your waistband, “it’s cute,” he smiled as your eyes fluttered when his digits swept through your folds, scooping back up to your puffy pearl as it buzzed beneath his caress, “I always enjoyed all the random little reasons you came up with just to have an excuse to talk to me.”

“Okay, I know they weren’t always that smooth,” an embarrassed heat sparked in your cheeks, “but it’s a lot harder than you’d think it is.”

“Oh, I know,” he stated casually, grinning at the way your eyes suddenly grew, “what? Did you really think I just happened to always have some work in the barn whenever you went for a ride?” one of his long fingers then eased into you, causing your mouth to fall open in a silent gasp. 

“Wait, seriously?”

“And the time I needed your help learning the system in the tool shed?” another one of his digits found its way inside of your cunt, rendering you a panting mess in his grasp as he leisurely pumped his fingers in and out, stretching you till your pussy sang out for him, “I already knew where everything was.”

The reply that was ready on your tongue swiftly fizzled out and became a forgotten relic as his touch then dissipated and instead floated down to where his jeans were already half undone. Tugging it the rest of the way open, he then stuffed his hand inside and freed his cock. Like a moth to a flame, your eyes couldn’t help but stare, yearning as you watched his cock throb in his tight fist. 

“O-oh, fuck…” the curse flowed out your lungs as your gaze stayed glued, nearly drooling as he suddenly hooked his grasp behind one of your legs and yanked you closer, causing you to tumble back onto your forearms as he manoeuvred your core that much closer to him. Hooking his fingers in the material of your panties, he slid them down your legs and, to your amazement, stuffed them into his pocket. As he then began to tap the hefty weight of his length down against your puffy petals, causing glossy strings of your desire to cling onto him and keep you ethereally attached, your eyes snapped back up to find his and the same whimper left your body once again, “oh, f-fuck…”

Trailing the bulbous tip through your wetness, he teasingly nudged the head against your swollen clit fiercely enough to make your whole frame twitch beneath him. 

“God… you feel so good…” he groaned, staring down at how his fat cock slid through and parted your glistening folds.

“Uh, Tyler–,” you begged hazily, your little hole winking every time he denied it any attention, “p-please–”

“What is it, baby?” he cooed smugly, “you want me to fuck you?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded foggily, your gaze flickering back down to watch his teasing. 

“You wanna know what my cock feels like inside your pretty little pussy, huh?” his touch then dented your thighs, pressing both of your legs together, enclosing them around his girth and resting your ankles atop one of his broad shoulders. 

“P-please–”

“Is it all you’ve been thinking about?” the softness of your thighs interlocked around him lend him to snap his hips against yours and freely fuck your folds, the underside of him sliding against the seem of your cunt, “what’s been occupying that brilliant brain of yours?” he smirked and you couldn’t help but rock back against his efforts, “because it’s all I’ve been thinking about… how warm you must feel around me, how tight, how fucking wet, how–, fuck!” he then moaned as the way you’d needily tilted your hips up towards him lend his length to accidentally catch your leaking hole and sink in just the slightest bit till he halted his movements.

A shuttering gasp escaped you as well at the sensation as he’d nearly caused tears to roll down your cheeks from how badly you wanted him. 

As he caught your eye, his grip digging into your legs in order to hold on to his last strand of self-control, you panted up at him just as he was about to pull back out, “don’t stop.”

Staring down at you, absorbing your every reaction, he slid the tip back out, but so painstakingly slow that it caused your eyes to roll in your skull. 

“But what if I did though? What if I just stopped, right here, right now? Just drove you back to the farm and left you a needy little puddle just like this?”

“No, don’t stop! Don’t–, I–…” your walls clung around his girth, “please just keep going, it can just be the tip, I just–, don’t stop…”

When just the memory of him kissed your entrance, he gently sank back in and stuffed the bulbous head inside your cunt, “you sure you just want the tip?” he slowly found a pattern, fucking you with just the essence of him, “you sure you don’t wanna feel me so deep inside of you that you won’t be able to walk afterwards? That you’ll still be able to feel what we did for days and days?”

Blinking up at him, your legs trembling against his chest, you breathed, “I–…” till your dizzy head began to rock in a nod. 

“Yeah?” he cocked his head and flashed you a smug smile, “then beg for it.”

“Please fuck me–”

“What was that?”

“F-fuck me–”

“What, like I am right now?” he rolled his hips to just shyly plug you up. 

“No, fuck me for real,” your words felt not your own as they desperately flowed out of you, “fuck me exactly like you’ve been dreaming of since we first met, since you first–, ah!” all of the air was then forced out of your lungs as he slammed the remainder of himself all the way inside, stretching you wide of him and letting the tip, the very part of him that had been driving you mad, kiss the deepest part of you and cause your eyes to flutter shut. 

Your knees bent and crumbled down to curl up beside your chest as he meticulously slid halfway out, only to jam his dick back inside. 

He was practically growling above you, sinful grunts rhythmically flowing from his lips at every one of his frantic thrusts.

“Oh my god,” you cried beneath him as your cunt swiftly began to flutter around him, “you f-feel so–, so–, g-good!”

“Oh yeah?” he smirked and then perceptively asked, “are you gonna cum?” leaning down over you as he kept up his efforts. 

You tried to offer him an answer, but in the blissful abyss he’d cast you down in, you could only nod and squeeze your eyes further shut. 

“Then look at me, baby,” you sensed his fingers curl around your cheek, his reach dipping into your hairline, “be a good girl and look at me when you cum around my cock,” and when you managed to force your hazy eyes to blink back open, he stared back down at you as your cunt clenched down around him so fiercely that you nearly forced his girth out entirely, “there you go, fuck…”

But as your high began to melt away into sensitivity, the blonde farmhand didn’t slow his efforts in the slightest, moaning above you as he also was too close to cum to simply stop.

“Tyler, it’s too–,” you whimpered, your thighs shaking on either side of his frame as the creamy aftermath of your orgasm created a ring around the base of his cock and aided his erratic efforts, lending the entirety of his length to plunge back into you with such ease, even as your walls quaked and squeezed tightly around him. 

“Shh, you can take it,” he uttered hazily, “fucking take it, fucking–, ahh!” his hips then shuttered as he tumbled over the edge and pumped you full of his hot load. 

When Tyler one day had an errand to run, some thingy he had to pick up at a neighbouring farm, you hadn’t really paid attention to that part, you had kinda just stopped listening after the discovery that you would get to tag along simply because the neighbour knew you better than him. 

So, once you were both waiting on the ground for the farmer to return with the item, just a curious look to make the time pass by morphed into the pair of you full-on wandering around and being more nosy than what was good for you. 

Though the snooping halted once you pushed open the door to the westernmost barn and discovered a DIY contraption that tickled Tyler’s nostalgia. 

It was a tin barrel, strung up with ropes and tied to a few beams, though he still had to open his mouth for you to fully understand how it was a homemade training tool for when you first began learning how to ride a bull.

By then, some of the fear you’d felt the night you had watched him ride had overflowed and spilt out, which surely also was the reason behind why he suddenly insisted on you hopping on and letting him try to teach the terror out of you. 

“So, like that?” you asked, one of your hands hovering above the one you clutched around the makeshift loop tied around the uppermost quadrant of the barrel you straddled. 

“Almost, you’re only allowed to hold on with the one hand,” he pointed out and you swiftly adjusted, raising your left hand up high just as you remembered he’d done, “yeah, there you go.”

“So, just eight seconds like this?” your thighs squeezed around the drum as Tyler gently tugged on one of the ropes, only making you sway slightly. 

“Yeah,” he nodded as you glanced over at him, “and then there are other things that can get you more points, like how well you hold your balance and if you’re able to control the bull or not, those kinds of things.” 

He then caught you off guard by pulling on the rope a little rougher and offering you a much harsher and more realistic buck of the barrel, though, to your shock, you reacted to it surprisingly well, clenching your thighs and tightening your grip. 

“Atta girl,” he grinned at the startled chuckle that bubbled out of you, “see? It’s not so scary. You’re a natural.”

“Or maybe you’re just going easy on me…” you pointed out, reflecting on how the love you’d had for riding horses since a very young age surely kicked in and aided you in this skill as well. 

“You’re doing great,” he stated, his stare staying glued to how your body and hips swayed borderline sensually to the rhythm he kept up, “relax, give in to the movements more.” 

“How?”

“Just–…” he sucked in a breath, “pretend that you’re on something else…” a sly smirk then spread across his features before he uttered, “pretend that it’s me you’re riding.”

You then promptly felt heat begin to rise in your cheeks, as it became impossible to keep up your concentration on the task at hand and swiftly heard yourself shriek, “oh my god, Tyler Owens!”

Letting go of the rope, he stepped closer to you and enjoyed your flustered visage, “or better yet, maybe I should just let you hop on and teach you that way,” he let his palm slide up your leg as he came to stand beside you. 

“You’re ridiculous!” you laughed.

Snaking his hands around your waist, he then effortlessly lifted you back down onto the ground and uttered, “you love it.”

As you felt his breath fan across your features, your giggle got caught in your throat and faded away as you gazed back at him. 

“Yeah, I think I might…” you then whispered before he crashed his lips against yours. 

His boots then began to shuffle as yours did as well, letting him shift you till your spine collided with the gate to one of the empty stalls in the dusty barn. Pushing you up against it as he ravenously kissed you, one of his wide palms then swooped up from his fast hold on your waist to caress the soft peak of your boob through the thin layer of your tanktop. 

A breathy moan couldn’t help but slip up from your lungs when his kisses then faded from your lips and began to dance down the side of your neck. 

“Okay, easy there, tiger,” you caught his head in your hands as his sloppy pecks fluttered against your rapid pulse, “we can’t do anything here.”

“Oh yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow as he peeked up at you, “is that a dare?”

“No,” you chuckled, then reminded him of your neighbour, “he’ll be back any second.”

A groan then seeped through his grin before he pushed himself off of you, “fine…” yet still held his burly arms stretched out and fast on either side of you, supporting his weight against the half wall behind you and doing his very best to stop himself from diving back in.

But then you slowly let yourself float back into his space, “hey,” and tilted your chin to catch his gaze, “I said not here, not that we shouldn’t give it a try…”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Incubus

NSFW Art the Clown x F!Reader

Prompt: Reader is out with one of her friends when she runs into an interesting looking clown. Later that night, he seems to visit her in a dream. (Kinda going off the idea that Art is a supernatural being who can appear in people's dreams at will).

CW: Art being a freak, use of sex toys, oral f!receiving, multiple orgasms, choking, creampie

a/n: to quote Cassie from Euphoria "AND YOU CAN ALL JUDGE ME IF YOU WANT BUT I DO NOT CARE! I HAVE NEVER EVER BEEN HAPPIER" really going back to my sexy-clown-fucker roots with this one gang

~~~

Halloween Night.

You and your friends had been planning to go out like you had since you were teenagers. Getting dressed up in your sluttiest best Halloween costumes, going to your favorite spot in town to eat, then hitting up some parties.

Your group took up a large table at the same old diner you always met at. Friends pregaming with flasks and shot bottles they snuck in. Some more blitzed than others. As you got older, the desire for partying was beginning to leave your body. Wanting to be completely black out drunk in public becoming more embarrassing than exhilarating.

So when your best friend decided she wanted to mess with one of your fellow patrons, a lump formed in your stomach.

A tall man dressed in a half white and half black clown costume sat at one of the tables alone. Giant shoes adorned his feet, the tip of his long nose had a black dot on it, and a bald cap with a tiny hat rested upon his head. He had been staring at your group since he arrived. Most of your friends too out of it to notice.

Your friend walked over, leaning over the table he sat at. Pushing her cleavage directly in his face as she spoke to him. “Nice costume,” she batted her lashes at him. His expressionless face stared at her. A semi aggravated frown on his face. Everyone at your table began giggling as you watched in horror. She took a seat directly in his lap, wrapping one of her arms around him. She tugged at the hat on his head, smacking it down with a pop. “Awe, look how cute. But dontcha think it would look better one me,” she grabbed the hat off his head. Pulling the string and placing it down on her own.

Embarrassment ate away at your insides. All your friends stared and snickered at the situation. The man seemingly unfazed. She flicked at his nose with her finger. You could not take it any longer.

“Oh my God,” you grabbed her by the arm and yanked her away from him, “I am so sorry. If I had known she was going to do that I would’ve stopped her sooner.” You ripped the tiny hat off her head. “Here’s that. Once again I’m so sorry—“

“Why do you keep apologizing to this freak?!”

You shot a look at her, brows pushed together in frustration. Pulling her outside of the restaurant. She fought for you to let go of her. Stumbling in her drunken state.

“What the fuck is wrong with you! Why are you acting like this?” You were hurt by your friend’s actions.

“Why do you even give a shit, Y/N? That’s just some random skeezeball in a restaurant. I could fuck him and we’d never have to see him again.”

“Because you’re embarrassing me!” You shouted, folding your arms over your chest. Taking a deep breath and blinking away the feeling you were harboring.

She stood in front of you with a look of disgust on her face. Her hand planted firmly on her hip. A laugh erupting from her. Wrapping her hand around your wrist and pulling you back inside. Presenting you in front of the table of all your friends. “Go ahead if that’s really how you feel, Y/N,” she cocked her head to the side.

“I— I, uh—“

“Y/N said she’s embarrassed by us. Guess we huwt hew widdle feewings!” Your friend pushed out her bottom lip and mocked you. The entire table laughed at you. All your so called friends calling you names like “Debby Downer” or “Sour Puss” or “Buzz Kill.”

You stood frozen in shock. Unable to believe all your friends you had known so long were treating you this way. All of them a little drunk, but not drunk enough for them to not know what they were doing.

“Come on, everybody. Since we’re so embarrassing to be around. You can stay here,” your friend patted you on the head as she and everyone else threw some cash on the table to cover their bills. You were in disbelief. Feeling abandoned and hurt. Ashamed.

You looked over at the Clown Man who you were defending previously. His gaze fixated on you, expression completely emotionless. Sharp eyes cutting into you. Walking over to him one last time as you began to leave, “I really am sorry she did that. I hope your night goes better than mine.” You gave him a closed mouth smile as you walked out of the restaurant. Lifeless eyes watching you exit.

You held yourself as you walked home. Cold breeze hitting your revealed skin, sending chill bumps down your body. You tugged at the short skirt you wore when you saw a group of guys staring at you. Suddenly uncomfortable in your costume. You arrived home and began getting ready for the night ahead. You did love passing out candy. Something you really had not got to do in a long time. You loved seeing all the kids dressed up, excited for their sugar filled treats.

Time passed and the knocks on your door were scarce. Disappointed in the lack of trick-or-treaters. Feeling like you had lost all love for this holiday. One that was your favorite. Deciding to pass on dinner and just bake some cookies instead.

You sat on your couch mindlessly watching TV. The lack of trick-or-treaters had you drifting in and out of sleep. Finally dozing off…

You were in a dark room. Only lit by candlelight. A musky smell filled the air. You looked down to see yourself completely nude. Wrists and ankles tied to the frame of the large bed you laid on. Confusion ran through you.

Footsteps filled the room. Straining your neck to look down the dark hallway through the open door. Complete silence coming from the darkness other than the loud clap of shoes. The Clown from the restaurant earlier walked into the dim light. Facial expression flat, eyes piercing down at you. Heat dripped down your body knowing he was seeing you completely nude and on display. Approaching the edge of the bed, his head falling to the side as he stared at your bare pussy. A wicked grin crept upon his face.

His hand dug deep down into the bag he carried. The sound of all different textures of things tussled against each other as he went shoulder deep looking for something. An excited look washed over his face as his hand gripped around what he had been looking for. Pulling a deep red, microphone shaped vibrator from the bag. Your entire body flushed.

He crawled on the edge of the bed between your spread legs. Clicking the vibrator to the setting he thought you would enjoy most before teasing around your pussy with it. You moaned at the sudden sensation. Your thighs began trembling as he edged closer and closer to your throbbing nub. When the toy finally found its place on your sweet spot you called out to him, your hips arching at the feeling. Making circular motions with the vibrator, pulling every noise from you he could. Watching as your chest heaved with each shaky breath.

The waves of your first orgasm washed over you like a tsunami. Every inch of you quaking as pure ecstasy pumped through your veins. The Clown smiled at you from the position he was in. A prominent tent pitched through his satin suit. You bit your lip watching him palm himself through the fabric. Mouth beginning to water as the spot of his suit grew darker with his pre-cum. You rolled your hips at him, encouraging him to fuck you.

Dark eyes shot up to look into yours. Hand never leaving his erect member. Your eyes pleaded with him, a small quiet “please” falling from your quivering lips.

His hand clawed at the fabric around his cock, ripping open a hole big enough for him to pull himself out. Eyes unable to look away from how his gloved hand wrapped around his member. Tugging at his erection, his head falling back ever slightly as he savored the feeling of his hand. Almost like he was putting on a show for you.

His body weighed down the bed as he positioned himself to be directly in front of your aching core. Head of his cock prodding at your entry. Tremors of anticipation quaked through you. His lips were barely parted as he looked down at your face. Hooded eyes enjoying the view of you. He rubbed the tip against your folds, collecting all the remnants of you on himself. Ready to delve in.

… A loud knock at the door pulled you awake. You had been dozed off for a few hours now. It was almost too late at night for kids to be out. You sat up, grabbing the bowl of candy off the table in front of you. A second more aggressive knock. “On my way!” You called out as you walked to the front door.

Opening the door to a familiar costumed man. The Clown your friend had been rude to earlier. Little old to be trick-or-treating, but you did not care. “Oh— Hey! It’s you,” flashes of the dream you had been having about him ran through your mind. Heat rising to your cheeks. You swallowed heavy. A toothy grin painted his face as he waved excitedly at you. Holding up a black garbage bag asking for candy from your bowl. You smiled grabbing a large handful of candy and putting it in the bag for him. His eyebrows rose as his mouth morphed into a perfect ‘O’ shape. His hand went up to his lips blowing a silent kiss at you. You caught it with your hand and placed it on your cheek with a giggle.

“There plenty more where that came from. You’re probably my last trick-or-treater for the night. I’ve got all this candy left,” you shook the bowl tossing the candy around in it. The Clown stood before you not saying anything. Eyes staring at you with a wicked grin on his face.

The loud sound of your fire alarm going off made you jump right out of your skin. You looked over your shoulder then back at the man in front of you. His eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Oh— Oh, Crap! I forgot about the cookies I put in the oven!” You rushed back into your house leaving the door wide open. Running into your kitchen and grabbing the oven mitts you had left on the counter, pulling the charred cookies out and throwing the pan into the sink, running cold water over it. Smoke engulfed your kitchen. You opened the window over the sink, fanning the thick fumes out of the window with your oven mitt. Coughing as you accidentally inhaled some of the tar.

You leaned over the counter, hearing the squeak of shoes approaching you identical to what you had heard in your dream. You looked up to see the Clown examining your house. Waving his hand in front of his face as he scrunched up his nose at the smell. You sighed, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even get to introduce myself to you yet. I’m Y/N.” He waved at you acknowledging the introduction.

“Don’t say much do you?”

He shook his head aggressively.

“Hmm. Then how am I going to learn your name?”

He gleamed excitedly. Coming over and grabbing you by the wrist. Pulling you to your fridge where you had countless letters, newspaper clippings, and coupons pinned. He pointed to a picture about the local go-cart racing tournament that happened a few weeks back.

“Cart?”

He made an ‘X’ with his hands, shaking his head in disagreement. He reemphasized the ‘X’ before holding up one finger.

“Okay, minus one letter.”

He nodded with a bright smile.

“Car?”

He folded his arms over his chest, a look of disappointment on his face. His head falling to the side with a look that said “really?”

“Okay. Okay. Art?”

He jumped up and down clapping his hands with joy. Nodding his head rapidly. Clearly thrilled that you were so good at guessing.

“Art! I like that name,” you smiled suddenly realizing that his grip around your wrist stayed. Blushing at how close your bodies were to each other. Remembering your fantasy you were having about it pulling heat to your face.

“Well, since you’re already in here might as well make yourself comfortable. If you wanna sit in the living room I can bring you a glass of water or something,” you smiled. His wide eyes stared at you, smile never leaving his face. He slowly gave you a thumbs up before spinning on his heel and going into your living room.

“Can I tell you something crazy?” You smiled as you sat the glass down in front of him. He nodded. “I— you were just in my dream.” His mouth morphed into an ‘O’ shape, eyebrows raised in intrigue. “I dozed off after I got ditched at the diner. And we were— uh— well, you were. I was—“ Embarrassment washed over you. Realizing you were about to admit to having a sex dream about a complete stranger.

He made an okay gesture with one hand, sticking his opposite pointer finger into the o. You blushed at his insinuation. You nodded coyly. His face fell into a look telling you he thought your thoughts were naughty. Chastising you with his finger. You smiled. He rested his chin on one of his hands propped against his leg, waving for you to continue with the other.

“OH! No, you don’t want to hear the details or anything. It was…” you hid your face from him slightly. Unsure of what to say about the dream. Too awkward to fully admit it.

Art crawled off the couch, resting his chin on your bare knees like a begging puppy. A large frown decorating his face as he fluttered his eyes at you. Wide eyes stared down at him in your lap. Your nerves were set on fire. The source being where his chin touched your bare skin. You swallowed back hard.

He pressed his lips into the skin of your exposed thigh. Biting the soft flesh, leaving grease paint anywhere his lips touched. You felt your body quiver as his teeth dug into you. Bites turned into long licks. Saliva painted your exposed skin. “Art~” you moaned loving the feeling of him on your skin. A wicked grin crept on his face.

Partially gloved hands pried your legs open. Sadistic eyes stared at your clothed core. Noting how you had already soaked through your panties. Licking his way up your skin before planting a sloppy kiss on your core. You slid down the couch exposing yourself better to him. His long tongue lapped over your soaked entry, sucking on the fabric. Your hands gripped his head, eyes rolling back as he worked on you.

He suddenly stood up. You fluttered your eyes up at him. He walked over to his previous seat on the couch. Digging through the black trash bag he carried with him. Making a surprised face when his hand found what it was looking for.

Everything was so familiar...

Pulling something out and hiding it behind his back. Gesturing for you to join him. Patting his lap as you got closer to him. Hesitantly you straddled him. He leaned back into the couch, hooded eyes scanning your entire body. A mischievous grin painted his dirty teeth. He grabbed at your panties, ripping them clean off. Holding them up to his nose and taking a deep inhale, eyes rolling back into his head. Over exaggerating his exhale and putting your ripped garment down into his trash bag. The cool air against your now exposed core sent chills across your entire body.

There was a sudden hum coming from behind Art. He pretending to look around as if he could not find the source of the sound. You blushed at the realization of the noise. Revealing the same deep red want from your dream. You gasped.

"That's the same one from my-"

He cut you off by pressing the toy against your throbbing clit. You moaned loudly, throwing your head back. You rolled your hips against the vibrating silicone. Fire igniting deep inside you. Lost in the feeling.

Art watched how you played with yourself on the toy. His cock begging for the same attention the vibrator was getting. He smacked the side of your thigh to get your attention. Pulling you from your horny, dumb state. Your eyes meeting his gaze. His brows furrowed together as he pointed down to his erect cock. You continued your motions as you reached around to unzip his clown suit. Sliding the satin off his shoulders. His pale, slender body revealing itself to you. Propping yourself up so he could shimmy the material around his ankles. Noticing how he wore no underwear under the suit. You smiled as you stared at his cock.

Your first orgasm was rapidly approaching with the pace of the toy pressed into you. Art's gloved hands guided you down onto his member. Throwing his head back as you sunk down. The way your walls sucked him right in. Almost like your body was begging to be fucked. He blinked hard, his jaw agape. Hands encouraging you to bounce up and down. From the first few hops your orgasm took over you. Moaning his name and shaking. Walls gripping his member inside you. Art licked his teeth, mocking your orgasm face.

You expected him to move the wand so that he could fuck you to his own high. However, he pressed it firmer into your aching nub. Your hips rutted forward. Shocked expression taking over your face as you panted above him. Sweat decorating your skin.

"I-I can't do an-another one," you pleaded with the Clown. Your senses in overdrive as your pussy still spasmed around him occasionally. He pouted, mocking your pleas. Nodding his head to tell you, you would be having another one. Shaking entirely as he began a relentless pace inside you. Snapping his hips flush against your ass with each aggressive thrust. You cried out with each crack of skin. Overwhelmed with how good he felt inside you.

Fingers dinging into his bare shoulders. Gripping him tight enough to break the skin. His own fingers held your hips with a bruising force as he continued bouncing you on him. Feeling yourself approach another orgasm. Air hitching in your throat feeling your skin burn with pleasure.

Art reached one of his hands up and wrapped it around your throat. Squeezing tighter than anyone had ever before. Having you seeing stars, feeling like you could faint at any moment. Truly taking your breath away from you.

HONK!

A silver horn was shoved in your face as he released your throat. Bringing you back to the situation. Also causing you to grip his member again. He mimed a laugh when your body jumped at the sudden noise.

His head fell back against the head of the couch as he savored the feeling of you wrapped around him. Knowing his end was approaching. Sloppily thrusting up into you, circling your clit with the want. Willing you to cum at the same time. You watched as his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. Wishing you could lean forward and bite at his flesh. Decorate his skin with your markings. But you were far too close to your second high to change positions now.

Screaming out to him as you came far harder than the first time. You felt Art shoot up into you, spilling his hot seed into you. Continuing to thrust up into you as he rode out both your highs. Watching how he leaked out of you and pooled around his base. Smiling for a moment before his face fell flat. He helped you off his lap, sitting you beside him. Standing and attempting to reach his zipper on the back.

You stood and helped him. Making sure to pull the zipper away from his skin to prevent any accidents. Art turned and tipped his hat to you. You blushed as you stood in front of the man who just rocked your world.

You watched as he grabbed his black bag and threw it over his shoulder. Heading towards the door. Turning to blow a kiss at you one last time.

Catching it and placing it on your lips. Blowing one right back at him. He pretending to rub the blush off his cheeks.

And just as quick as he had entered he exited your home. You waved goodbye. Choosing not to question the stranger you had let into your home for a quick fuck.

Watching as he disappeared into the night.

~

[END]

// Thank you for reading! This is my first time writing for Art. You really gotta get creative when you can't use dialogue lol. I hope you enjoyed this story! I plan on writing more for him, so if you have any requests please send them my way! Or if you want to be tagged in anything let me know! //

{tags}

@hoe-for-daddywise | @cup1d-ends-here | @xenoanamorph | @getmeoutofhell |

[ladykyriaa]

I just had one the most well written, detailed, plot driven dream ever. But somehow it's way too familliar like it literally feels like a sequel to a prequel dream I've had before but I just can't remember????

Or maybe it's from a book somewhere I can no longer remember reading about

[starmocha]

Pillow Talk [Caleb/Reader ★ 2008 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] “Why are you wearing my boxers?” A/N: 😔 Me the other day, actually… [Approximately 2 PM on a random week day] Me: *doing 2 PM work things, being a Good Employee™* My Brain: Wearing Caleb’s boxers to sleep Me: YES MA’AM ON IT 🫡🫡🫡 Tag list: @miudle @alfredosaws @nezukoo-channn @voidsylus @rose-tinted-kalopsia @valkyyriia @natimiles 【 request to be added 】

“Look at you…”

You felt the warmth of the bed cover pulled back, the sudden cool air made you shivered and curled up in bed. Still cold, you reluctantly opened your bleary eyes to find the cause of the sudden temperature change. You blinked your eyes a few times, allowing them to slowly adjust to the darkness that surrounded you. Although it took a few seconds for your vision to focus, you made out a familiar form in front of you.

“…Caleb?”

“Sorry, pipsqueak,” he said, his hair still dripping wet from his shower, the water droplets dampening the simple white t-shirt he wore along with a pair of navy-blue cotton pajama bottoms.

Caleb’s own eyes gazed at you, drifting down and lingering a few seconds appreciatively at the sight of the white lacy bralette you wore before he took notice of the familiar bottoms you had on. He huffed, feeling a strange mixture of emotions simultaneously, ranging from exasperation to amusement, but also with the faintest hint of arousal.

“They’re too big on you,” he said simply.

“I don’t care,” you responded defiantly, making Caleb chuckled in amusement at your cheek tone. He playfully poked your nose, your face scrunching up immediately in annoyance. You wriggled your nose at him, sighing exasperatedly, “Caleb…”

“Hm?”

You scooted over in bed, making room for him next to you. When he didn’t react, you batted your eyelashes playfully at him, his resolve weakened instantly as he gave in to your whims. Sighing, Caleb climbed into bed, settling comfortably on his side as he leaned over, his body just barely hovering above yours.

“So,” he drawled, his head tilted downwards and one of his hands already reaching for the waistband of your bottoms, “Why are you wearing my boxers?”

“Because I like them.”

“This girl…”

“I like everything of yours.”

“Clearly,” he said, tugging the boxers lower, his eyes gleaming at the intimate sight hidden beneath.

You stopped him. “Ca-Caleb…!”

“Hm?” He smiled at you in the darkness. Within seconds, he was gasping when you pushed him back, allowing him to sit fully upright with his back resting against the headboard, and he watched with intrigue as you climbed on top of him until you straddled him comfortably. He sighed again, “Your way then, pipsqueak?”

He breathed in sharply when he fully felt you over his pajama bottoms. “…you’re drenched,” he said, voice soft, his arousal becoming stronger. One hand cradled your chin, thumb brushing over your lips, and his eyes darkened with desire as he scrutinized your every feature. He appeared to struggle to remain composed, his voice a little hoarser than intended as he questioned you, “…what were you dreaming about?”

“You.”

“Me.”

“Uh huh.”

In Caleb’s mind, such brazen teasing meant that you were ready for anything he had in store. In seconds, you felt yourself instantly pulled closer to him, realizing belatedly that he had used his Evol to manipulate the gravity around you. There was no time to think or react, your lips suddenly crashed upon his, the intensity of his kisses stealing away your breath, your heart racing at lightning speed as you struggled to keep up with him.

“Tell me about your dream,” he mumbled lazily, the sounds and feel of his kisses were making you squirmed on top of him, and though his large calloused hands were on your hips, he didn’t appear to be too bothered enough to stop you from moving around. If anything, it felt like he was encouraging you.

“Mmm…” It took you a few seconds to register his words, your sleep-addled mind was barely alert, or at the very least, it was only able to focus on the feel of his member hardening beneath you. You instinctively grinded against it, making Caleb hissed in pleasure. His fingers dug into your flesh and you startled, realizing what was happening. Panting softly, you mumbled evasively, “…I don’t remember…”

“Liar,” he rebuked. He laughed off your pout. “You said it was about me…what was I doing in your dream?”

“Spending time with me.”

“Yeah? Like right now?” He humored you, clearly catching on quicker than you would have liked. It wasn’t surprising really, since it seemed Caleb always did know you better than even yourself.

You whimpered, feeling him just barely thrusting up, the thin cotton fabric not enough of a barrier to keep you from feeling him.

“Ca-Caleb…”

You guided his hands to the waistband of the boxers you wore—his, your brain mercilessly reminded you, fueling your steadily growing arousal—and with your silent permission, Caleb made quick work of pulling them down and discarding them off to the side of the bed.

“My boxers looked good on you,” he husked, his warm breath against your neck, your belly doing somersaults as you were more than acutely aware of his presence so close to you and also of his own desires mirroring yours. He continued in that same lazy tone, “But I think you look better without them—Just. Like. This.”

“Ah—!” You gasped, pitch higher than normal, into his neck, your hands gripping tightly his shoulders to ground yourself as you felt his fingers brushing against your sex. Instinctively, you rocked forward, wanting more of his touch against you—inside you—needing more friction than what he was giving you right now.

Your own fingers found their way to his pajama bottoms, tugging on the waistband impatiently. Laughing, he kissed your cheek as he helped you pulled his bottoms down enough to free himself. Eagerly, you rubbed yourself against him, his own aroused pants mingled with your soft moans.

“In-inside me…” you gasped, wanting to just sink down and take all of him in that moment.

That same, playful laughter of his resounded in your ears, piercing through the growing haze of lust that was clouding your mind. Your head was tilted upwards, pulled into another kiss as he happily swallowed all of those cute little needy whimpers you were making. “Not tonight,” he murmured to your frustration.

“Why not?” you demanded, annoyed.

“I kind of like seeing you all frustrated like this,” he admitted unashamedly.

Before you could even protest, he had you reduced to a helpless state, your mind unable to form a single coherent sentence, only able to focus in on the feeling of him suddenly rutting against you, every brush of his cock against your slicked lips had you trembling, begging and pleading for him to actually fuck you, but he ignored your helpless cries, delighting in seeing you fall apart, aching to have his cock fill your needy little pussy.

“Oh god, oh god, please, Caleb, please…!”

“That was a cute sound,” he mumbled in between kisses, his low groans making you craved him even more. “It’s just for me, right?”

You whimpered, practically sobbing, feeling overwhelmed by the desperate need to feel him pounding deeply inside you, but also well aware that the stimulation from him just humping against you was also enough to make you feel your climax quickly approaching.

“Please, Caleb, please, please, please…!”

He was breathing heavily, his control seeming to slip as he took in the sight of you so submissive to your pleasure, just begging him so cutely, he was ready to give in to you. Caleb inhaled sharply, his hands gripping your hips as you rubbed against him harder.

“Pl-please what…pipsqueak?” he asked, voice barely steady, “Want my cock inside you? Want me to fuck you that badly?”

“Ye-yes!”

“Why should I?” he asked, smirking as he continued to mess with you, your immediate whines the reaction he wanted. He grabbed your chin, making you locked eyes with him. His thumb pressed against your lips, his voice low and knowing, “Can’t even use your fucking words.”

“Caleb!” you cried into his shoulder. “Please…please…fuck me! Please fuck me! I need you so badly, Caleb! Please! I want your cock inside me! I need it inside me, Caleb!”

Caleb was panting heavily, his mind reeling in shock, not expecting you to actually beg him with such lewd words. “Damn it,” he groaned, his resolve broken completely in that moment as he felt you trembling on top of him, your desperate pleas unexpectantly turning him on more than he would have thought. He laughed hollowly, resigned, his hands grabbing your hips again. “Alright…you win…pipsqueak…”

You squealed as you felt him lifting you up and then guiding you down on his cock.

“So fucking wet,” he groaned, already setting a rapid pace, “you’re taking me…so well, pipsqueak…it’s like you were…made for me…”

Every thrust up was reaching you where you wanted and needed in that moment, your moans and cries mingled with Caleb’s heavy breathing and groans. He panted, “Your face…looks so erotic, I’m going to lose my fucking mind.”

“D-don’t look at me like that—ah!”

As he bounced you on his cock, you were both lost in each other’s eyes, all words gone in that moment as you could only focus on the feel of him thrusting deeply into you, your walls squeezing him, every pulse had him groaning in pleasure, wanting to completely ruin you, make you completely his.

Your eyes squeezed shut, your moans growing in pitch as you felt your pleasure peaking, your cries coming out louder as Caleb started moving faster as he felt you nearing the edge, wanting to see you fall completely apart for him.

“Cum, cum on my cock,” he urged you, the feel of his fingers digging so painfully into your hips a sure sign that there would be bruise marks in the morning. He hissed and gasped, “That’s it…that’s it…good girl…cum...cum for me…”

“Caleb—! I’m…I’m…!”

As you rode out your pleasure, you could still feel Caleb driving himself into you faster and harder, showing no sign of stopping or slowing until his own climax was reached. You squealed as he used you, his hands groping along your body, his lips fumbled against yours and when he grazed his teeth over your shoulder, he finally released inside you, your name spilling from his lips in pure ecstasy.

You fell against him, weightless and spent, quietly sobbing into his chest, completely overstimulated, the lingering pleasure still wracking your body. His arms wrapped around, holding you close to him, safe and secured within his warmth.

“Oh, fuck, look at you,” he groaned, his eyes drifting to where you were both still connected, “So fucking…pretty…covered in my cum.”

You whined against his chest, and he laughed, his hands running up and down your back soothingly. When he pulled out of you, you could feel his release also flowing freely down your thighs.

“Hm, very pretty,” he murmured again, kissing your lips sweetly. He smiled when you responded the same. “So sweet and docile…”

He settled more comfortably in bed, dragging you to lay on top of him. Once again, you felt his familiar hand rubbing your back up and down, the soothing motion alongside his gentle voice quickly worked on lulling you back to sleep.

“Next time, I will spoil you, pipsqueak,” he promised, smiling as you lay against him.

You hummed into his chest happily.

“What do you want for breakfast in the morning?” he asked, his own eyes feeling heavy now as he began to nod off as well.

“Whatever,” you murmured into his chest sleepily.

“Whatever? Alright, I can make whatever,” he said, still able to joke with you. You giggled softly as he continued flippantly, “I can make you something Chinese, I can make you something English, I can make what…ever…”

He yawned in the middle of his sentence, his eyes no longer able to stay opened. As he let them drift close, he smiled again as he watched you fall asleep in his arms. His lips pressed to the top of your head, his mind slipping away into unconsciousness, and he joined you in a peaceful slumber, in a world where it was only just the two of you together—forever.

I can make you happy.

[mooooonnnzz]

Platonic ask for gravity falls 🩷

The twins with a mother figure? Those kids are all around saving the world, someone needs to seriously worry about them and make a little fuss lol maybe the mother figure is Stanley or Stanford new wife? I just imagine the twins coming back next summer and boom new mother/aunt

Heartbreak, Heartbreak

Stanford x Reader / Dipper & Mable x Mother!Reader

✦ your stanfords wife whaatt?!

✦ i feel like this is one of my weaker works, i apologize

✦ 2,5k words

✦ fem reader

✦ gulp i hope i did ur request justice 😭

✦ mable goes "stop fighting!!" at some point

✦ requests r still deliciously open

꣑୧ Coming back to Gravity Falls was a dream come true for the twins. What they weren’t expecting was to see their Great Uncle Ford walk in the Mystery Shack hand in hand with you. Mable was the first to bombard you Grunkle with questions; which stemmed from “Oh my god, when did you guys meet?” to “Oh my god, oh my god, am I going to have Great Cousins? That sounds weird, doesn’t it?” Ford had to calm her down before she got too rowdy with their questions and overwhelm you. 

꣑୧ Once Mable was calm enough to sit down in the same room with you, without bursting in her seat with excitement, was when Ford broke the news. “Mable, Dipper. This is my wife,” He said, wrapping his arms around you, his hand moving up and down your arm in a soothing manner. You introduced yourself to the twins who were more than happy to meet you. 

꣑୧ “Did our Grunkle by some chance, manage to hypnotize you into dating him with a book?” Dipper asked with an analyzing stare. His lips were puckered, pointer finger and thumb on his chin, tapping it curiously. Not expecting a question as absurd as that, you let out a laugh. Shaking your head, you smiled at Dipper. “Not at all,” You respond, taking Ford’s hand with yours, intertwining your fingers together. “He just won me over with his nerdy charm.” You say, your eyes locked on Ford. A rush of blood swarmed Ford’s cheeks. A chorus of groans echoed in the shack. Stan appears behind the kids, resting his arms on the top of their chairs. “See, kids,” He motions over to you and Ford with a swipe of his hand. “This is what I had to deal with while you guys were gone.” With a sympathetic look, Mable rested her hand on his arm, shaking her head sorrowfully. “I’m so sorry, Grunkle Stan.” 

꣑୧ After the initial shock wore off, Dipper and Mable began to grew skeptical of you. What if you were one of Bill’s goons disguising yourself as a human? And your goal was to take down their Grunkles and start Weirdmageddon 2?! Rushing up to their room in the attic, they pulled out their trusty 8-ball, the one they used the first day they arrived at Gravity Falls and when they were unsure if they were safe to stay with Grunkle Stan. They both sat down on the floor, 8-ball in Dipper’s hand. “Okay, magic 8-ball!” Mable boomed loudly with a weird amalgamation of a British and French accent. “Mable, keep it down.” Dipper shushed. “Oops,” Mable giggled. “Okay, magic 8-ball,” She whispered, her head uncomfortably close to the 8-ball. “Is Grunkle Ford’s wife evil?” With a rapid shake, Dipper and Mable peered into the ball. A pyramid accompanied with words appeared. “Don’t count on it.” The twins read out loud. “Huh…” Mable slowly nodded her head, eyes squinted in thought. “Well,” Dipper tossed the 8-ball behind him. “The magic 8-ball never lies.” 

꣑୧  Getting along with the twins wasn’t hard. All you had to do was grab your car keys from your purse, jingle them as if they were a bell and wait. Few minutes later, you’d hear their feet stomping down the stairs and a flash of colors swarming the living room. “I heard keys jingle, I heard keys jingle!!” Mable’s eyes darted around the room in search of the keys and when her eyes landed on you, her eyes sparkled with joy and anticipation. “Are you taking us somewhere, Great Aunt [Name]?” You smiled, spinning the keys around your finger. “Depends,” You pretended to think for a moment, just to keep them on their toes. “Where would you guys like to go?” A laugh escapes you as Dipper and Mable attack you with where they want to go. “Alright, let me tell your Grunkle that I’m taking you guys out.” Digging through your purse, you fish out your phone. You turned it on and went to your contacts. With a tap, you dialed his number. He picked up almost immediately. “Yes, dear?” You could hear his pencil scribbling on a piece of paper. “I’m taking Dipper and Mable out for the day.” You tell him, mouthing to the kids to get in the car. They scampered out of the living room and to the hallway. You could hear the door open and their hushed voices as they made a beeline to your car. “Okay, be safe when you’re driving and call me whenever you can, okay?” You hummed in response. “Of course, I’ll keep you updated on the kids.” You say, walking out of the shack and to your car. “I want updates on how you feel too,” You could feel the love dripping from his tone. “I will, my love.” You blow a kiss into the phone, wishing Ford goodbye. He blows one back and the call ends. Entering the car, you look behind you to see the twins all buckled up and ready for their adventure. “You guys ready?” “Yeah!” 

꣑୧ “So, Dipper, what’s with those dots on your arm?” You point at the four dots on his arm with a fry. Dipper looked down to his arm. His eyebrows rise in shock. “I-I completely forgot I had these,” Dipper’s thumbs the scars, an uneasy look on his face. Your heart stops in your chest. “I’m so sorry, Dipper. I didn’t mean to make–’ Dipper’s hands raise up to his chest, waving them side to side, dismissing your concerns. He assured you that your question didn’t make him uncomfortable. “No, no! It’s just…” He rubs the back of his neck anxiously. “He got possessed by a demon!” Mable blurts out, stuffing her face with a greasy burger. “Mable!” Dipper whines. “I’m sorry! I couldn’t handle you beating around the bush any longer.” She says with a mouthful of chewed up food. You leaned yourself back in the booth, trying to assess what Mable just said. “Dipper got possessed?” You repeated in a question. “Yeah, I kinda did.” Dipper said with a slight voice crack. “Can I know how?” Disbelief was thick in your tone. You didn’t know whether to laugh or walk away in shock. They don’t look like they’re telling a joke? The way Dipper has his head slightly hung low and a tiny frown on his face proved that. But Mable seems as jolly as ever. You fight with yourself, trying to make sense of what happened when Dipper spoke up. “Have you heard of the name Bill Cipher?” Shaking your head no, the twins dove straight into a very long story pertaining to Bill Cipher and how he tormented them throughout summer last year and ultimately led to the world almost ending. “Wow,” Was all that you could mutter. You never got your question about Dipper’s scar answered that day. 

꣑୧ Laying in bed, you eyes drifted over to Ford who was brushing his teeth in the bathroom. “You wanna know something crazy the twins told me earlier today?” Ford spat out the toothpaste into the sink. “What did those knuckleheads tell you?” He said, cupping his hand under the running faucet and filling his hand up with water. “It was this really crazy story,” You started. Ford nodded, dunking the water in his mouth and sloshing it around. “They told me about this interdimensional demon named Bill Cipher?--” Ford spit out the water in shock, spraying it everywhere on the mirror. You sat up in surprise. “Ford?” You pushed the blankets off of you and walked over to Ford, your hand on his shoulder. “You okay?” With a forced, “mhm,” he wiped the dripping water from his lips with his forearm. “Y-yeah, no. I’m fine.” He waved you off, nodding his head vigorously, almost as if he was convincing himself that everything was fine. “Are you sure?” Concern laced your voice. Someone who’s fine wouldn’t spit out their water like that at the mention of…Bill Cipher? That’s when it clicked for you. “You have history with this demon as well, don’t you?” Ford groaned, running his hands down his face. “Those kids can’t keep their mouths shut, can they?” He mumbled to himself, his head turning to face you. “What else did they tell you?” That night, you spent it horrified with the tales he told you regarding the past summer and his time with Bill. “And you never told me this, why?” Ford nervously pushed his glasses up, his eyes looking everywhere but you. “Because I…” He trailed off. “I don’t know,” He stops for a moment, inhaling deeply before continuing. “I didn’t want to scare you off. My past...isn’t something I could easily tell you without having a second thought.” A frown pulls to your lips. “Were you ever going to tell me?” You ask, your voice frail and quiet. “Yes?” His tone was full of uncertainty. You didn’t know what to think. One side of you wanted to be mad at him for keeping all of this from you, but on the other hand you felt sympathetic. You knew this wasn’t an easy topic to discuss normally. And you could tell it took him a lot of courage to admit a side of him that he wasn’t fully ready to reveal. But you were deeply hurt that he kept such secrets from you for a long time. And considering how he responded to your question, you weren’t even sure he was going to tell you any time soon. “What are you thinking about?” Ford’s voice ripped you out from your thoughts, grounding you back to reality. “I’m thinking about how crazy all of this is. I didn’t know. The kids went through so much at a young age. A-and you act like it was nothing, they could’ve died Ford.” Your hand rested on the side of your forehead. “You also made a deal with a demon? I…” You let out a sigh. “I don’t know, Stanford.” Ford cringed at the use of his full name. “I can go, if you’d like me to.” You raised your hand up to stop him. “No, I don’t want you to go. I just need time to process this,” You offer him a weak smile. “That’s all I need right now my love, just time.” 

꣑୧ “You what?!” Mable and Dipper both screech at the same time. “Yeesh, Ford. And I thought I was a screw-up.” Stan chuckled, elbowing Mable to see if that got a rise from her. It did not. “I thought I was protecting her from all of this madness!” Ford’s elbow rested on the dining room table, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “Grunkle Stan tried doing the same thing, did you see how that almost ended for us?” Dipper said. “I know, I know.” Ford weakly muttered out. “Then, why did you keep such important details away from her?” Stan argued. “Because I was trying to protect her!” Ford yelled, slamming his hands on the table. That seemed to get a rise from Stan. “Well, maybe you weren’t trying hard enough! Now, look at what you did. You fucked everything up.” He shouted. “Oh!” Ford stood up from his chair. “That’s hilarious coming from you!” Scrambling up the table, Mable slammed her foot down, gaining the attention from Ford and Stan. “Fighting isn’t going to fix things, guys.” She said, “Ford had his reasons, like how you had your reasons for hiding Grunkle Ford from us, Grunkle Stan.” Ford adjusted his sweater, sitting back down on his chair. “Now, Grunkle Ford. What did she tell you?” She asked, turning over to Ford. “She told me that she needed time.” Sitting crossed-crossed, she nodded her head intently. “That’s good, right?” In return was silence. “Right, guys?” Both Dipper and Stan agreed. “Great! Now while we wait, can we apologize to each other for acting so mean and for swearing.” She directed a look to Stan who scoffed. 

꣑୧  And wait they did. After a couple of days, Ford’s phone randomly started ringing. Rushing to pick it up, he lifted his phone to see you calling him. He gulped nervously, suddenly second guessing himself. Should he pick up the phone? If he does, what if it’s you telling him that you want a divorce? Or that you need a break, or that– “Grunkle Ford!” Dipper snapped his fingers in front of his face. “Answer!” He pointed to the phone. “I got it!” Mable sang out, swiping her finger to the right. There was a beat of silence. Mable and Dipper anxiously waited for at least you or him to speak. One of them was about to intrude, no longer able to withstand such silence when you spoke up. “My love?” Your voice was timid. Ford’s heart lunged to his throat. How he missed your voice. “Y-Yes?” He mentally punched himself for stuttering like a complete fool in front of you. “Can you open the door for me? It’s locked.” Without a second thought, Ford practically ran over to the door and whipped it open for you. The twins watched you and him silently talk to each other from a distance. After a few tearful words and hugs, they recoil in disgust when they see Ford swoop you in for a kiss. “Oh my eyes!” Mable dramatically exclaimed. “Gross.” Dipper made a face in disgust. 

꣑୧ “I’m still mad at Ford for roping you kids into all that madness.” You tell the kids, mindlessly scrolling on your phone. “Dawww, don’t you worry about us.” Mable put a hand to her cheek bashfully. “We can handle it.” You found that hard to believe. “Is Gravity Falls still…crazy?” You whisper the last part, in case Bill Cipher is listening. You’ve only heard stories of him, but hearing what he has done rooted a new fear in you. “Kind of? There’s still weird things that happen here, but not as bad as last summer.” Dipper said, jotting down a few notes in his journal. “How come I’ve never seen anything weird?” You wondered. “Because you’re too busy making out with Grunkle Ford to notice anything!” Mable chirped, kicking her feet as she drew on colored piece of paper. That elicited a laugh from Dipper and a “What!” Ford walked in with an eyebrow raised and breakfast in hand. ”I heard I was mentioned in a conversation. Are you guys talking crap about me?” Ford places his food on the table and pulls back a chair. He sits right next to you and before he dives in on his breakfast, he gives you a quick kiss on the lips. “You wish!” Mable says, flipping her paper on its backside. “I do not.” Ford said quietly. “So, kids saving the world, huh? That has to count as some kind of child abuse.” You half said seriously, half said jokingly. Ford rolled his eyes. “What? Are you gonna arrest me?” You glared at him. “I might…” 

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤTHE BATMANㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Damian Wayne x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : How Would He Be When He's Obsessed?

☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

Damian doesn’t fall in love; he descends into it with the same calculated intensity he approaches a fight. It begins innocuously—a mission gone awry, your paths crossing in Gotham’s shadowed streets. You’re a private investigator, clever enough to evade trouble yet stubborn enough to find it anyway. The first time he saves you, it isn’t out of compassion. It’s practicality. You’re in his way, a civilian caught in the web of crime and darkness that Gotham weaves around its inhabitants.

But something about you clings to him after that night. Maybe it’s the way your eyes, so defiant, didn’t flinch when he loomed over you in the Bat suit. Maybe it’s the sharpness of your tongue when you told him you didn’t need his help. For Damian, who grew up in shadows and blood, your fire is intoxicating. You aren’t a mission or a tool; you’re a puzzle, one that he can’t put down.

Damian begins to watch you. Not out of lust—not at first—but out of necessity, he tells himself. You’re reckless, and Gotham devours the reckless. He starts with the basics: tracking your movements, hacking into your phone, listening to your calls. He justifies it as protection. It’s his duty to keep you safe. After all, you wouldn’t last a week in Gotham without his silent interventions.

But it doesn’t stop there. He learns your habits—the café you frequent, the books you read, the way you twist your hair when you’re lost in thought. He doesn’t realize when protection turns into possession. All he knows is that the idea of you existing outside his control fills him with unease.

For Damian, love isn’t soft or tender. It’s consuming, an ache that claws at his chest. He’s never been good at moderation. Raised by the League of Assassins and tempered by the Bat, he only knows how to want completely or not at all. And he wants you.

It starts small—fleeting glimpses of a shadow that seems too deliberate, too familiar. You convince yourself it’s paranoia. Gotham does that to people. But then there are the gifts. A book you mentioned in passing appears on your doorstep. A necklace you admired once in a shop window finds its way into your apartment.

He tailors his interactions with you, ensuring he always appears just when you need him most. It’s a slow burn, one he orchestrates with the precision of a symphony.

But in the quiet moments, his thoughts spiral. He imagines you—laid out beneath him, vulnerable and bare, trembling as he whispers that you belong to him. He dreams of your gasps, your pleas, your moans as he claims you in ways no one else ever could. And these fantasies? They become impossible to ignore.

It’s why he starts leaving little reminders of himself in your life. His scent lingers on the gifts he leaves, his hands brushing against yours just a moment too long during your brief encounters. He needs you to feel him, even when he isn’t there.

And then there are the rescues. Every time you’re in danger, Batman is there. Too quickly, too conveniently. You’re not sure whether to feel grateful or unnerved. The way he looks at you, even through the cowl, sends shivers down your spine. His gaze lingers a moment too long, his touch steadying you when you falter but holding on just a bit too tightly.

Damian doesn’t believe in limits—not when it comes to you. When a petty criminal threatens your life, he snaps. The Bat code—his father’s code—is forgotten. He breaks the man’s arm without hesitation, the crack of bone echoing in the alley. He would’ve done more if you hadn’t screamed his name.

That’s when you realize something is deeply wrong. Batman isn’t supposed to lose control. But Damian doesn’t care. He tells you it was necessary, that Gotham doesn’t follow rules, and neither can he when it comes to you. His voice is calm, but his eyes burn with something you can’t name.

One night, you find yourself in danger again—a gang cornering you in a dark alley. By now, you expect him to come, and he does. He’s a shadow in the night, a whirlwind of brutal efficiency. But this time, when the last thug is down, he doesn’t leave. Instead, he steps toward you, towering over you in his suit, his green eyes glowing behind the mask.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

You snap back, angry at his audacity. “I can take care of myself!”

He’s on you in an instant, his gloved hand gripping your arm—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to show you he’s in control. “No, you can’t,” he snarls. “You’re reckless. Foolish. You don’t understand how fragile you are.”

The tension crackles like a live wire. He’s close—too close. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, the intensity of his gaze burning into yours. And then it happens: his lips crash against yours, rough and possessive, stealing the breath from your lungs.

It’s not a kiss born of tenderness but of desperation, of need. His hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him as he devours you like a man starved. When he pulls back, his eyes are wild, his voice trembling with barely restrained desire.

“You drive me insane,” he admits, his words raw and honest. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

After that night, Damian’s control unravels. He stops holding back, his obsession consuming him entirely. He starts appearing at your apartment unannounced, stepping out of the shadows like he belongs there. And in his mind, he does.

His touches grow bolder. A hand on your lower back as he guides you through a crowd, fingers brushing against your thigh as you sit together. He delights in the way you shiver under his touch, even if you won’t admit how much you like it.

But it’s not enough. He wants all of you—your body, your mind, your heart. He begins orchestrating moments where you’ll need him: sabotaging your car so he can give you a ride, pulling strings to ensure no one else can get close to you. He wants you dependent on him, tethered to him in every possible way.

And when he finally has you—when you’re beneath him, his name a broken whisper on your lips—he feels whole for the first time in his life. He takes his time, mapping every inch of your body, leaving bruises and bites as proof of his claim. His voice is dark and velvety as he whispers in your ear, “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

He begins isolating you, subtly at first. Friends cancel plans, your phone malfunctions, and job opportunities slip through your fingers. He doesn’t trust anyone else with you—not Gotham, not its people, and certainly not your own judgment.

When you confront him, his response is chilling in its sincerity.

“Everything I’ve done is to protect you,” he says. “You think you’re safe on your own? Gotham doesn’t care about you. But I do. I always will.”

You try to leave, but Damian is always a step ahead. He knows your every move, every thought before you act on it. He doesn’t hurt you—not physically. His control is far more insidious. He makes you doubt yourself, your reality.

Eventually, you stop fighting. It’s easier that way. Damian doesn’t celebrate your surrender, but you see the satisfaction in the way his shoulders relax, the ghost of a smile on his lips when you stop flinching at his touch.

In his mind, he’s saved you. You’re safe in the gilded cage he’s built for you, even if you don’t see it that way. He tells himself you’ll come to understand, that one day you’ll thank him for his unwavering devotion.

And in the quiet moments, when his arms are around you and his voice is soft in your ear, you almost believe him.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[sttoru]

“you’re important to me, satoru.”

the words pierce through the comfortable silence. your lover’s closed eyes flutter open and stare at the ceiling for a second, unsure if what he’s heard was indeed reality.

his cerulean eyes eventually dart to your face. they’re filled with a rare sense of vulnerability, one that only appears around you. however it fades quickly when satoru tries to keep the moment lighthearted.

“heh, i know i am,” satoru chuckles, though you don’t miss the unusual softness in his voice. the white-haired man leans into your touch as your hands come into contact with his cheeks.

your smile lights up the room. it fills satoru’s heart with an undeniable amount of love— love that he has lots of. the kind of love that makes him dream of a future, his future.

the kind of love that reassures him that he’s someone.

“good! i’m glad you do,” you reply and pepper his face with kisses. your lover melts into your embrace and his head falls back against the pillows once more, his fluffy white hair pooling around his head, making him look like an angel.

satoru gently pulls you on top of him, the duvet around your tangled bodies rustling. the cocoon of warmth provides the both of you with a comfort like no other. “what’s with the sudden sappiness, baby?” he teases, booping your nose.

satoru doesn’t hate it. in fact, it’s the exact opposite. he cherishes the affection, the gentle reminders that he’s loved and will be loved until the end of time. even if no one in the world remembers him anymore, he knows you will.

you let out a small huff of laughter before placing a tender kiss on his lips. “just wanna show my man the love he deserves,” you hum and run your fingers through his hair.

as you speak, satoru can’t help but bask in your heartwarming words, drinking in your love and affection like a man starved of water.

you lower your head and leave a trail of pecks along his throat and collarbone. you eventually rest your head on his bare chest and hug yourself close to his body. his pecs function as a soft cushion for your head— a warmth you don’t ever wish to lose.

“. . you’re too sweet,” satoru sighs. his arms wrap around your torso and he squeezes you tightly, yearning to hold you as close to him as he possibly could. his heart beats loudly in his chest and he’s sure you’ve heard it. he then kisses the top of your head and exhales through his nose.

“you’re killing me, babe,” your small giggles as you jokingly complain about the lack of air in your lungs make him feel an incredible amount of joy. a certain joy he only experiences with you.

to your surprise, satoru rolls you over onto your back. his hands are on either side of your head, fingers curling around the silky material of the pillowcases. his eyes glisten with a deep sense of passion that he wishes to convey.

your lover captures your lips in a tender kiss, his white locks brushing against your forehead. “mhh— god,” satoru murmurs against your bottom lip after gently taking it between his teeth. his breath hitches when your fingers tangle in his hairs, “what did i ever do to deserve you, sweets?”

after a couple seconds, he pulls away. he’s breathless and so are you. “so much. you did and still do so much. hell, you deserve even more than this,” you reply without missing a beat. you want him to know that you appreciate him for who he is and what he’s done for you— for the world.

you shake your head and pull satoru down for another kiss.

his eyes widen and he swears that he can feel tingles spread through his nose. it’s that sensation which happens before the tears well up in his eyes. satoru isn’t one to cry so easily, thus he decides his best to hold back his emotions.

your lover shuts his eyes tightly to stop the tears from forming and holds onto you like you’re his lifeline. he feels so alive, so appreciated— he feels like he actually matters.

and he does. he matters to you. not because he’s the strongest and not because he possesses great power which others benefit from. but simply because he’s . . . himself.

satoru’s lips detach from yours. again, due to your body’s need for air. if it wasn’t for that, he’d kiss you forever. he rests his forehead against yours, his breath coming out in short and quick pants.

your half-lidded eyes look up at his as well. your fingers run up and down his nape while you lovingly stare at each other. a small smile tugs at your lips the moment you feel his mouth connects to yours again a final time.

satoru finally opens his eyes, his face hovering above yours. you’re left stunned by the sight of him like this; vulnerable, defenceless, honest and just pure. you adore it whenever he drops his over confident, playful and cocky side of his personality to make way for his inner self.

“. . you’re important to me too. very,” satoru responds to your earlier words, his voice gentle and sincere. he flashes you a subtle yet soft smile, his blue eyes glistening with tears that disappear as quickly as they appeared.

he lowers his head and rests it next to yours before taking in a deep breath, his mouth next to your ear as he whispers one more request;

“please don’t ever stop loving me.”

[miyaz6ki]

Hear me out..Jealous!kinich x reader smut...also I love your writing style it makes me wanna explode🤭

──── bet you feel it now, baby

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. you didn't have to laugh that hard at his joke. it wasn't even that funny. he's better, it's fine, he'll just show you how much better he is.

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. kinich x gn!afab!reader, !!NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. posting wip list in a bit plus brief overview of 800 special fic (it'll probably be genshin/hsr :3)

۪ ⠀✧ warnings. possessive behavior (kinich), jalosi /j, kinda ass/pussy eating (see to it however you like, i used no real specific term, reader is blindfolded for some parts, jealous behavior, rough sex, sex itself, y'all get walked in on (be ready for this to be implied into more of my kinich works LOL), establish relationship

"ahhn- kinich i said 'm sorry.. pleasef- slow down!" your face in the pillows, your words muffled and long gone into the night. the black-haired man's raspy voice spoke from behind— your boyfriend, kinich, of course. "he wasn't all that entertaining, why laugh like how you do with me?"

it was torture to him, seeing how it went from an awkward laugh, a polite smile, to a more genuine appearance to the stupid guy that just had to come up to you while he was busy getting a little snack for ajaw— even ajaw wouldn't comment on how his face looked this time, keeping his own silence as he ate the delicious candy.

"fffuck- he was an old classmate i had at the akademiya- 'm sorry, i-i really am kin-!" he almost laughed at your words. classmate? doesn't mean you should be playfully hitting shoulder like that. or teasing him like that. it's all his, no one else should be able to have it.

you shuddered, what felt like cumming again for the umpteenth time in a row, he hadn't stopped pinning you against the wall, and making you see stars over and over again ever since you saw your "classmate".

"doesn't matter." he groans, finishing inside you once more, your eyes were blindfolded by his headwear, previously on his forehead. he carries you onto the mattress, laying you down a little roughly. "w- what are you doing?"

you shivered once more, feeling warm exhales near your entrance, his cheek resting suddenly on one of your thighs. "all mine, right?" the blunt tone present in his tone definitely made it out as if you couldn't tell him anything other than yes (because it was true). his lips start to scatter a plethora of glossy little kisses all over your thighs, the sensation of getting him to cover every inch of your legs felt like a fever dream.. was this really a punishment?

you could feel his other hand snake to one of yours, which was somewhere on the bed. holding it tight as he started to place wet pecks over your hole. "hhnnn.. kin stop- ... stop teasing me.." you felt yourself moan into his touch, your other hand reaching out for wherever his head was. your fist grabbing at his hair, almost trying to push him into you further.

you felt him groan into you, you could sense he was whipped for your taste. the way you moaned his name. his.. name. "ahh- ahhh fffuck!— kin it's all yours, i promise!" his hand left yours, and stopped lapping at your hole for a moment- you heard a small grunt, and two things landing on the floor.. was he taking his gloves off?!

you could feel him sitting you up with one of his other hands, arms setting you down onto his face, arms locking around your thighs. straddling you over his mouth, as he started to devour what was his. no other guy could do this to you, not without making you feel as good as he did.

shit and he definitely did, the way he made you feel wasn't like the stupid losers who'd try to hook up with you back in the akademiya. or tried to pick you up in the streets. they can't make you feel turned on as much as you did when kinich blindfolded your eyes with something he doesn't usually take off and hear his belt buckle start to come off- ahhh nothing was better!

oh you felt yourself almost creaming on his face just thinking about it. not to mention how good he worked his tongue into you, definitely tasting every little bit, every little nook & cranny his tongue could reach.

he made a small sound, looking up to see you slowly riding his face as is, trying to rub yourself near against his nose. his authorative hold was more than enough to stop you from moving again, one of his palms moving over your stomach to feel the way his tongue moved inside you.

his head busily buried itself more into your scent, glossing his tongue so carefully, making sure you feel it. you started to feel something pool in your stomach- ssshit you were gonna cum again! your hands trail back down to his hair, gripping it harshly again, him seeing signs that you're close, he fastens his pace, licking as much as he could, no longer concentrating on the taste, more on your facial expression.

"ahhn- kin i'm g'na-!" "mmm there it is, such a good kitty." were the words he moaned into your hole, as he gladly lapped up every inch of your delicious juice/cum.

as he placed a kiss onto your entrance once more, he places more than just one kiss onto your lips, making out with you for a bit. letting him taste what he's been tasting for the past hour, the shared, mix of both of your cum.

your lips finally parting from his, your eyes still shut close 'till you feel a fist of your hair being gripped, "not done yet." is all kinich whispers, his voice a little coarse as he continues to kiss you. "all.. yours," you feel him take your hand, putting it over his heart while you both pull away from the kiss, a string of saliva being created. "and all mine, please?" he points to where your heart is in your chest.

his blunt attitude could only make you laugh, planting a kiss onto his head, and nodding to an agreement. "mmm- yeah. all yours."

"you guys are reaaaaaaalll corny! you're lucky i like your partner this time!" ajaw butts in as you laugh, while kinich simply scoffs- looking the other way and burying his face into your chest.

not as cool as my other works, and it's more cringe if i keep looking back on it, cute request tho !!!!<3333

[reignpage]

Forgive me, Father!

Summary: you have something to confess and Nanami is more than willing to hear you out Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: porn with little plot, fem!reader, dubcon, improper use of a confessional booth, manhandling, choking, unprotected sex, cursing, slight exhibitionism, dirty talk, squirting, blowjob, fingering, not proofread

Priest!Nanami waits for you in the confessional booth. He’s the local priest that everyone trusts, he even teaches at the orphanage, providing a stable figure for all the lost souls born here and that pass through. 

“What brings you here, my child?”

Priest!Nanami’s voice is deep and gruff, vibrating against the thick wood of the booth. It pierces your core, travelling straight to your pussy. You press your legs together. This is bad, so very bad. You shouldn’t be feeling this way for him; he’s a good man, an upstanding citizen, a pillar of the community. 

“F-forgive me, Father. I’ve been having bad thoughts, and I don’t know what to do.”

Priest!Nanami hums. You can see his figure through the privacy screen, the perforated divide granting only slight view of his cassock, the black robe a familiar sight, as you rest your knees on the kneeler, clasping your hands at your chest. 

“Bad thoughts, you say?” He asks. “What kind of bad thoughts, my dear?”

Lips quivering you answer, “I don’t think I should say, Father. I’d hate for you to resent me.”

Priest!Nanami insists, “Oh, but how can I guide you if I do not know what path you stray down?”

“Father, I’ve been thinking of you, wondering how your body feels under your robe and dreaming of your taste. I’m so terribly sorry, Father. Forgive me!”

Priest!Nanami chuckles. 

“That is very bad, indeed. I fear you have been possessed by a lustful spirit, and it must be repelled before it consumes you wholeheartedly.”

You trust him with your life, just as everyone does, so when he slides the slot beneath the privacy screen to the side, you don’t hesitate to part your lips to suck up the healing essence of his holy sceptre. 

It coats your lips, salty and scalding, as you widen your jaw to take as much of him down as you can.

“Very good, my dear,” he groans. “Just a little more and you’ll be healed in no time.”

His huge cock head presses against the back of your throat, the veins rubbing against your tongue, and he begins making shallow thrusts into your hot, wet mouth. 

Priest!Nanami makes a low groan and it travels straight to your pussy, urging you to take him deeper, tongue swirling around the underside of the head.

"You have a gifted mouth -ha- very gifted, indeed," he praises.

You needed this so badly. So many nights spent wondering how he feels and now your throat is being stretched to the very shape of his cock. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, the wetness of your pussy coating your inner thighs. One hand slides down your belly, pushing your dress up so you can soothe the ache. 

Priest!Nanami pulls his cock away, ignoring your whines of complaint, and through the holes of the privacy screen, he chastises you, “Now now, you know better than to feed that demonic spirit with shallow pleasure. Only a trained professional can wash away that which plagues you.”

“Yes, Father.”

Priest!Nanami makes shuffling noises in his side, and with a candle as your only source of light in the penitent’s chamber, you can only see only he hasn't abandoned you, leaving you aching and soaked.

The door bangs open, light blinding you momentarily, and you stare up at the silhouette of a tall, broad figure blocking you from view. You’re still kneeling, lips glistening. He appears before you, like an angel of the night.

Priest!Nanami is smiling, glasses hiding his eyes but you know they’re gliding down your form, stopping at your heaving breasts and your exposed thighs. 

“Turn and face the wall,” he barks, and then adds, “Spread your legs.”

Clambering to position, you do as he says, pressing your hands to the cold wood and keeping your legs apart. The door shuts and you’re once again encased in partial darkness. A firm hand palms your hip, and you jolt with the sudden heat. 

He yanks you closer to him, ass jutting out whilst your back arches. Something long and hard presses against you. You clench down onto nothing.

“So well behaved, the Lord would be very pleased,” he mutters into your ear, hot breath tickling you. 

With one hand still on your hip, the other slides across your stomach, spreading heat there before it climbs up, palming a breast and relishing in the weight. His finger tweaks the nipple poking through the thin material, blunt nails scratching your taut bud. 

“Father!” You gasp, ass grinding back onto him much harder than before. Your back arches painfully. 

“It is alright, my dear. It is all part of the process — we must relieve you of this evil.”

Priest!Nanami yanks the neckline, revealing your breasts. They bounce with the force and graze the wooden wall. You moan. And then the hand on your hip is inching downwards, gathering the skirt of your dress into a fist which he orders you to keep up whilst his hand explores further the apex of your thighs. 

His fingers touch the soaked gusset of your panties and together you groan. 

Huskily, he chuckles, “I see this is a particularly powerful spirit; you’re so desperately trying to expel its force. But be not afraid, my child, I will search deep within and seek it out for you.”

With expert work, he pushes your panties to the side and coats his fingers with your juice, using the lubricant to circle your clit. You squeal. The untainted hands of the priest feel smooth against your smouldering flesh as he rubs that bundle of nerves with unyielding pressure. 

Priest!Nanami’s mouth descends on the crook of your neck, sucking the salt of your skin before licking a stripe up the expanse. His fingers go lower, pressing inside your pulsing hole.

“You’re so tight, my dear. I see I’ll have to take extra care to alleviate you of your ailment.”

He curls those fingers inside, pressing hard against that spongy spot inside you that has you leaking onto his fingers even more. Again and again, he thrusts those fingers in, making sure to hit that spot over and over, ignoring the whimpers leaving your lips. Sloshing and plopping resound in the space, there’s no shame left inside you to care about the indecent sounds he’s wrangling out of your sloppy cunt.

“Oh, Father! I think I feel the spirit leaving,” you yelp.

He mouths at your jaw, teeth scraping the skin gently but with the promise of pain, before his thumb circles your clit. And then you’re shaking, back arching and mouth slacking as you feel the pressure inside burst. An elongated moan departs your lips, reverberating against the walls. 

You're struggling to keep your dress up with one hand, whilst the other holds you up on the wall. Your limbs are aching, just like your insides, melting like candle wax, flooding down your legs..

“Well done, child. Fight against the demonic spirit, just like that,” he coos as you ride his fingers. 

“Father? Are you in there?”

 Another voice rings out. It’s dull, coming from the outside. You still. 

Priest!Nanami doesn’t respond. But he removes his fingers from inside your pussy, smearing your wetness all over your lips before pushing them inside your mouth. You suckle with no complaints. 

In a low warning, he orders, “Be a good girl and keep quiet for me, yes?”

You nod. 

Without hearing any rustling, he retrieves his cock from the confines of his trousers and rubs them along your slit. He’s so hard and hot, you’re resisting the urge to squeeze your thighs around it. Back and forth, he coats his length with your juices, squelches sounding out. His cock head catches on your clit, and you moan around his fingers. 

“Father, may I come in? I’d like to talk to you about my son’s struggles in school. I fear I am not equipped to provide the necessary support and would like your guidance.”

Priest!Nanami he pierces your pussy with his throbbing cock. You scream into his palm, eyes rolling back. And with no further warnings, he’s dragging your hips back and forth, up and down his length. 

Priest!Nanami scolds you, “Fuck, you’re so tight, my dear. What a devious cunt, trying to milk my cock before I can even -ngh- exorcise you of this demon.”

The stretch is immaculate, forcing your wet cavern to memorise the shape just as your throat had. And his cock pokes your sensitive point with every thrust, drawing dulled moans after moans from your drooling mouth, with every slap slap slap.

Messy and squelching, your pussy cries out at the huge intrusion, sucking him in and pushing him out simultaneously. He’s churning your pulsing insides, dragging his cock head all the way to that tight ring at your entrance before ramming back inside.

Priest!Nanami grunts in your ear, “You must have done -ngh- something very wrong for our Heavenly Father to weaken his protection over you, otherwise you would not have been so -ha- vulnerable to such a potent malevolent spirit.”

“I’m sorry, Father,” you beg, his fingers leaving your mouth so he can pinch your nipple, pulling it taut. “But I’m so scared!”

“No need to fret, child. I will -ha- eradicate you of all that is holding you -so tight- back from enlightenment.”

He’s pummelling his cock harder and faster inside of you, the tip kissing your cervix in a way that has you seeing his stars. Letting go of your hip, he uses his to force you into submission, skin slapping and juices flying as he knocks you back with the force. 

Priest!Nanami’s hand circles your throat, squeezing every time you clench down on his cock. He’s robbing you of air, head growing lightheaded with the pressure. Your hips push back onto his. 

“Father? I'm very worried for my son.”

Her pleadings continue, unacknowledged and barely heard, as he reaches deeper inside you, heavy balls slapping against your clit. You can’t ponder too long on the desperation in her voice because the priest is turning your face around to kiss you. 

Priest!Nanami’s tongue dives into your mouth, seeking yours. The kiss is wet and sloppy just as you are down there, and he’s grunting with every thrust. You’re both growing more and more desperate for release, his cock ramming inside your tight cunt with an increasing tempo. 

“The spirit is weakening; can you feel it?” He enquires, hand leaving your breast to pull yours away from your dress, guiding it, instead, to your lower abdomen. You can feel the outline of his massive cock going in and out. He presses your hand harder. 

You feel that pressure inside grow, a sudden desire to pee overcoming you. 

“No, Father! I can’t!” You whimper against the wall, hoping that the woman outside can't hear the way you’re panting, how your pussy is weeping, and how he's pounding you so hard you're seeing stars. He growls encouragements in your ear, fuelling your own pleasure. 

Priest!Nanami kisses the back of your neck through the layer of sweat, tasting your skin. He leaves your hand and rubs your clit once more. 

You cum.

Your vision goes black, a scream lodged in your throat as you squirt all over his cock, soaking his length and splashing against the wood. 

“That’s it. Keep fucking yourself onto my cock,” he groans, still rubbing your clit as he himself cums with one hard, final thrust. Warmth explodes inside of you, painting your walls with his holy essence, punishing that demon within until it quietens down. “What a heavenly pussy, milking me so good. Such a good girl.”

“F-father? I’ll come back later,” the woman stammers. 

In the distance, you hear the quick patter of feet fading further away. 

You fall limp within his arm, heaving and still spasming from the effects of your orgasm. He holds you up in his arms, kissing your neck and whispering soothing compliments. 

Priest!Nanami slumps onto the floor, taking you with him. Your head rests on his chest, listening to the rapid beating of his heart as he catches his breath too. His clergy collar is askew, and you fix it for him with a shaky hand. He grabs it and presses a kiss to your knuckles. 

“That was a good one, Kenny,” you breathe out with a giggle. “I told you you’d enjoy it.”

He grunts in agreement. “You’re always right, honey.”

“Of course, I am. But hey! For someone who was so reluctant, you were incredible.”

He kisses your forehead. 

“I think you were incredible. Your acting skills have certainly improved.”

You laugh. “You weren’t so bad yourself — you had me believing I actually have a demon inside.”

Husband!Nanami blushes and his eyes dart up to the door, a hand groping your breast like his own personal stress ball, and with a sheepish tone, he admits, “The real priest is going to have a lot to deal with after this.”

You bolt upright. “Speaking of the real priest, his break is ending any minute now, we should get going!”

The door slams open and you both look up at an unimpressed man, long hair tied up into a bun as he sighs. 

“You two again?”

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

devotion. l General Marcus Acacius

Summary:  he returned to Rome in glory, he returned to you

Warnings:  smut, angst, unprotected sex (don't do it!), fingering, mention of pregnancy, a few nasty words

A/N: that was a quick shot. i hope you'll be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

You saw perfectly how his brown eyes widened when he saw you in the crowd of guests in the Emperor's palace. The golden wreath on his curly dark hair, the sun-kissed body dressed in white and gold - he looked like one of the Gods you could worship in a temple. 

And wasn't he one of them? One of those legendary heroes? The one who brought glory to the Roman Empire. One of your Emperor's favorites.

Wasn't he the man you had loved for so long?

When he crossed the threshold of your home late in the evening, you could finally fall into each other's arms. In that moment, he was your Marcus, the man you loved more than life, to whom you had promised loyalty, to whom you had promised eternal devotion and faithfulness.

His warm, plush lips crushed against yours in a kiss full of longing and love that you had to keep so far from each other. Strong arms wrapped around you like vines, but you clung to him with your whole body, yearning for his closeness so much.

"Almost four years..." he sighed as he rested his forehead against yours "I counted every day, my love. And every day was unimaginable torture."

Your hand stroked his bearded cheek "I knew you would return. The Gods promised to give you back to me, and here you are. Safe and sound." Your fingers tenderly stroked the scar on his cheek, slipping into his hair interwoven with silver threads "I can't believe you're finally here."

Marcus' hands tightened around your waist "Tell me you're not just a beautiful dream..."

"I'm here, my love." You whispered, tenderly touching his lips "All yours." He pressed his lips to yours as if he had to make sure that you weren't a dream, laughing, you pulled away from him slightly "Marcus, we need to talk, so much has happened..."

"We have the whole next day, our whole lives for this. Please... Let's not talk tonight. I want to love you, adore you, caress your body." He sounded like a man possessed, hungry for your body "I need to remind myself of every curve of your body. I want to taste you and immerse myself in your sweetness. I beg you, my beloved..."

You couldn't refuse him, you didn't want to. The dream of the warmth and closeness of his body had haunted you almost since he left for that cursed war. You couldn't wait any longer.

The heavy door of your chamber closed, and after a moment you were both taking off your robes. Hands craving a familiar touch, lips searching for each other. Hot lips wandered around your neck when you felt the cool sheet under your fingers. Marcus raised himself on his shoulders, his dark as night eyes roaming your body.

"Give me a moment..." he said as you tried to pull him closer to you. "You're more beautiful than I remember you."

You laughed quietly, a little embarrassed by his confession. "I'm definitely older."

"As am I. But to me you'll always be equal to the goddesses."

"Don't say that, Marcus. Don't incur the wrath of the Gods, they can be jealous."

A mocking smile appeared on his face. "I'm not afraid! The earth could open up beneath me and swallow me alive, but I won't stop repeating it. You are a goddess, my love. I dedicate my life to serving you. Only you."

"Then do it. Use your body and all your strength to do it."

You didn't have to repeat it twice. Your lips connected again in a strong and deep kiss. His tongue invaded between your lips, extracting from you those sweet moans that returned to him during sleepless nights. 

His hard cock rested on your thigh, and you felt excitement and fear, it had been so long since you felt him inside but  you wanted him so much.

Marcus' lips slid down to your sternum, then your breast. He kissed it and bit it lightly, despite the time he still remembered everything that made your body tremble. When the nipple disappeared in his mouth you felt your walls tighten slightly, giving you a signal that you couldn't wait any longer. But it was Marcus who dominated you, doing whatever he wanted with your body.

When his long fingers moved over your slippery folds you moaned shamelessly.

"So thirsty..." he whispered, his lips brushing your belly "Let me prepare you first, love. Let me..." two fingers slid inside you with incredible ease, all the way to his knuckles "I've got you."

Your body arched like a string, the stretch felt so good. Marcus pulled his fingers out and after a moment he pushed them back in, watching your reaction with great pleasure.

"If you could see it." he kissed the inside of your thigh tenderly "So hungry, so greedy."

"Harder..." you moaned, grabbing his wrist and trying to take control, but he wouldn't let you.

He grabbed yours with his other hand, quickly brushed it with his lips, and then his fingers started moving faster and harder. You heard that lewd sound that showed how wet you were and how your body reacted to his caresses.

"Give me everything. Cum on my fingers, love." Marcus panted, feeling his hard cock throb at the sight of your body. "Don't torture yourself like that, love. Cum."

And you did. Your thighs clenched as a shiver of pleasure ran through your body, and a sweet moan escaped your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling your head buzzing, but suddenly Marcus took control again. 

His strong arms spread your thighs, and his hard cock slid inside you without warning. You lost your breath. Your eyes rolled back under your eyelids, and when his strong body pinned you to the bed, you knew there was no escape.

"Fuck..." he moaned loudly, dazed by the feeling. "You're so tight, so warm..."

"Marcus... I feel like you're going to tear me apart..." you moaned, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. "Gods!"

"Don't summon them, love." he mumbled quietly, brushing your lips "They'll be jealous of us."

His hand grabbed your leg under the knee and he lifted it slightly, thrusting into you even deeper. You didn't know how on earth it was possible, but his cock seemed to dig into you even more with each thrust. 

His body, his strength intoxicated you. Your beloved transformed under your fingers into a barbarian who came to your bed just to fuck you and use your body as he wished.

You felt another orgasm building inside you and you wanted to tell him that, but in an instant Marcus lifted himself up. Without leaving you he pulled you with him and sat on his heels, you fell onto his thighs, impaling yourself on him even more.

Your arms wrapped around his neck tighter, fingers entangled in his hair as he lifted your body and used it as he wanted to, to get what he came for.

"I'm so close, so close." he breathed into your ear. "I want to feel you again, give it to me. Give it to me!"

As if on command, your body gave in. Your walls trembled and squeezed around his manhood, you clung to him tighter as he now pressed you hard and violently against his cock. But Marcus was close too and soon you felt his body tense up and he poured into you, filling you up with his warm seed.

You were both panting, your bodies still sweaty and hot. His heartbeat mixed with yours and no matter how many breaths you took, it still wasn't enough.

"You're definitely not a dream." he murmured, kissing your shoulder gently.

"How can you be so sure?" you giggled, looking fondly at his blissful face.

"The Gods would have to be incredibly cruel if they let me experience immortality with you and then ordered me to return to mortal life." his fingers tenderly stroked your back "You have to be real." 

You kissed him tenderly feeling indescribable love for this man. At the same time, however, a small flame of anxiety rose in your heart thinking about the upcoming day.

He was torn from his sleep by the quiet sound of the door closing, and then your footsteps on the stone floor. He lazily rubbed his eyelids and opened them, noticing you pouring yourself a glass of water.

"Why did you get dressed?" His voice was hoarse, and it gave you shivers "I didn't say I was done with you."

You smiled, walking over to the bed and sitting on its edge "You were done with me at least three times last night, General." you noticed, leaning down and kissing his soft lips "You should rest your loins."

"I'll rest after death. Right now, I just want to keep my cock between your thighs, where it belongs." he replied "I've been thinking about it for almost four years and I have no intention of giving you up now."

Marcus noticed the smile disappearing from your face, and your gaze wandered to the window open to the garden. He knew that look. Something was worrying you and occupying your mind.

He sat down on the bed, his hand tenderly stroking your arm. "What's wrong, my dear? Something's on your mind."

"Marcus... So much has happened since you left." You said quietly. "I don't even know where to start... It all scares me so much."

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Tell me, because I can see how much you're struggling."

He saw you nervously squeezing your fingers, and your eyes avoiding his gaze. Finally, you stood up and took a few steps. Marcus watched you carefully as he put on his robe, a strange fear growing in his heart. 

What if this was all just a dream? What if you tell him to wake up now?

You were already opening your mouth to say something when a commotion in the hallway and quick footsteps tore your attention away. The door opened wide and a small boy rushed into the room.

"Mommy!" he called, running up to you and wrapping his small arms around your legs. 

Right behind him, a woman in a servant's robe ran in, apologizing from the entrance. "My lady, he wanted to see you so much. I told him you had a guest, but he..."

"Nothing happened, Tullia." You replied, smiling faintly, clearly embarrassed. "Please, take him to the garden." You ran your fingers through the boy's dark, curly hair. "I'll see you in a moment, okay, little bug?"

The boy smiled and grabbed the servant's hand, gave Marcus a quick glance with his brown eyes, and left the room, leaving you in complete silence.

You could clearly feel the tension that had grown between you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, as if you wanted to hide, and looked up at Marcus. Surprise was written on his face. His dark eyebrows furrowed, and his jaw clenched. He stared at the door, and only your voice made him look at you.

"I didn't know how to tell you this..." you whispered "I've been planning this in my head for almost four years, and now I'm standing in front of you and I'm speechless."

"You're a mother." His voice was low, you nodded "All this time I thought you were waiting for me, and you..."

"Marcus, let me explain, please." You wanted to approach him, but he just raised his hand, and you froze.

He swallowed, and his dark eyes were fixed on you like daggers ready to attack "Before I left we promised each other... You promised me that you would wait for me. That you would be faithful to me."

"And I was." You groaned.

"Don't lie to me!" he roared, and you stepped back, scared "For four years I lived only thanks to the thought that you were waiting for me, that you loved me despite everything. And now? You promised me!"

"Let me explain, Marcus." Your eyes stung from the tears that were seeping into your eyelids. "You don't understand..."

He was like a beast locked in a cage. His eyes darkened and his hands clenched into fists. It was the first time he looked at you with such contempt and disappointment, and your heart was breaking with every passing second.

"I thought you were devoted to me. That you committed to waiting for me, if I knew you were just a whore..."

These words were the last straw that broke the camel's back. You suddenly straightened up and raised your head, looking at Marcus defiantly.

"Don't talk to me about commitment, devotion and loyalty when that's what I've been doing for four years." you said sharply, you saw that he opened his mouth, but this time you didn't let him get a word in. "I was pregnant when you left Rome with the army. For many months I hid it from my surroundings, but I still heard the whispers and gossip. I carried him under my heart, gave birth to him and I raised him alone, despite everything. Despite the lack of guarantee that you'll come back. So you have no right to talk to me about commitment and loyalty, or judge me without knowing everything! Julius is your son. You can either accept it or leave." 

Marcus looked as if you had stabbed him at that moment. There was silence and only the laughter coming from the garden tore you out of this freeze. The General approached the door leading to the garden. Between the bushes and flowers he saw the silhouettes of a few boys playing, including the one who called you mother.

"I didn't know..." he said quietly, his eyes following the boy carefully.

"How were you supposed to know?"

"Call him."

"Marcus, please..." you whispered, a cold shiver running down your spine.

He looked at you, but you couldn't read anything on his face. "Call him, please. Or I will." He could see, however, that you were unable to utter a word. "Julius! Come here, boy."

The sounds of fun faded away and after a moment you heard the shuffling of sandals as the boy approached you, dragging a wooden sword behind him. He stopped in front of Marcus, but his frightened gaze went straight to you, afraid that he had done something wrong.

Marcus looked at him carefully, towering over the boy. Finally, he spoke.

"Do you know who I am?"

Julius's eyes went to the man's face. He nodded.

"A general. Mom told me." he said quietly. "A soldier. Like my dad."

You saw Marcus give you a quick look, but he couldn't resist asking another question. "Where's your father, boy?"

"At war. Far away." He looked down and shuffled his shoes. "Mom says he's brave."

"And are you brave?"

You covered your mouth with your hand to hold back a sob as Julius shook his head.

"I'm not. Sometimes I'm scared, so then I go to mom."

Marcus crouched down in front of the boy so that their faces were at the same height. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the resemblance between them.

"Where did you get that sword?" Marcus continued.

Julius visibly perked up. "Mom gave it to me. To make me brave."

"Will you show it to me?"

The boy handed him his wooden sword and Marcus looked at it. "It's a very good sword." Julius' face lit up with a smile.

He accepted the sword back from the General and you had the impression that he stood more straight and proud. Marcus looked at him for a moment longer, then ruffled his hair asking him to go back to playing.

"I didn't know what to tell him when he started asking about his father." You started quietly as Marcus watched the boy who had already run after his friends. "I didn't know if you'd ever come back... I wanted to believe it, but he needed answers. That's all I could give him."

"He is..."

"Perfect." You finished for him. "He's smart, empathetic, sensitive and not at all as cowardly as he says. He's afraid of storms, so he comes to me at night."

Marcus turned around looking at you with tenderness. You noticed tears in his eyes and after a moment they ran down your cheeks.

"I wanted him to be safe." You sobbed. "I thought that when you came back and saw him... Every day I saw you in his eyes."

Warm hands grabbed your face as Marcus put his forehead to yours. You placed your hands on his, trying to calm your breathing.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered "I beg you, forgive me for doubting you. I didn't expect this. The thought that you could marry someone else, give him children..."

"How could I do that? I gave my heart to you, Marcus. For eternity."

Warm lips brushed yours.

"You gave me a son. You're so brave. Too good for me... I don’t deserve you and him." he whispered "I'm sorry I doubted you, my love."

"Please, don't talk about it anymore. Just get to know him, and you'll surely love him too."

"But will he love me?" doubt sounded in his voice "Julius doesn't know his father."

You tenderly stroked his face, wanting to erase all worries from him.

"Julius knows his father is brave, strong, and that he loved me more than anything in his life. He will welcome you with open arms, Marcus. Just give yourself a chance. Give us all a chance." 

He nodded and snuggled up to you with all his might. When he returned to Rome in glory, his greatest dream was to see you again. And you gave him so much more. You gave him more than the Emperor could.

You gave him life.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[writingoddess1125]

Window Visit

Masterlist <<

>> Kofi cause I'm Poor

Kurt Wagner x GN Reader

Fluffy Fluff Ass Fluff!

Soft snores filled your small one bedroom apartment, you having had a rather long day had been dead to the world- Drool staining your pillow as you were off in the land of fluffy clouds.

Tap Tap...

Why were the clouds making a tapping noise?

Tap Tap Tap..

The Fuc-

Tap Tap Tap Tap!

You wake up from your odd dream with a start, looking around confused as you hear the tapping sound once again. Looking to your window as you just saw- Darkness? Turning on your light quickly you almost give a soft shriek as you see Kurt, AKA The Amazing Nightcrawler and your dear friend on your window seal waving at you with a clearly busted face and cheeky smile.

"Oh my God Kurt!" You rush over falling from your bed and to the floor to the window and slide it open quickly, pulling the blue man inside as he holds his side and chuckles.

"Surprise!" He says far too cheerfully for your taste.

"Why didn't you just teleport inside!? Youre injured!" You hiss at him still a bit asleep as you look over him a bit frantically, luckily you saw only a few scraps and probably some bruising however nothing seemed to serious off first glance.

"Its Rude to just appear in someone's home Schatz" He said with a chuckle before wincing softly, You shaking your head at his antics.

"Think anything is broken or are you just bruised?" You ask, Kurt gives a soft shrug. "Bruised mostly, a few nice cuts. Nothing too bad"

You nod, leading him towards the bathroom.

"Best to get you washed up first, then I can get you bandaged up" You say, Kurt nodding as he followed you, watching you grab some stuff for him.

"Come on, Pop the top" You say as you wave your hand for his shirt, he chuckles and peels it off and hands it to you, being mindful of his injuries. You exchanging it for a fluffy towel, spare toothbrush and a wash cloth.

"Wanting to stare?" He teased as he gestured to his naked torso, You rolling your eyes and giving a fake purr at him.

"Of course Blue~ Now. Freshen Up, You smell" You say sticking your tongue out at him which made Kurt laugh and wave you away. You taking his top with you and close the bathroom door behind you, chucking his shirt in the wash as you hear some water running.

Kurt sighs as he looks around your space- Seeing the different products you kept and such before jumping in the shower to get cleaned up.

He spent a good 20 minutes in the shower, which allowed you time to grab some extra blankets and pillows to toss on your bed. Making sure to also lock the window. When the water shut off you walked back over and knocked, The door swinging open as Kurt stood with the towel around his waist brushing his teeth.

"Vo 'ou 'always ha'e 'xtra tuu'th 'rushes?" (Do you always have extra tooth brushes?) He asked taking time to get his fangs and spitting-

"Yes your suppose to get a new one ever 3 months blue-" His brows raised at this in surprise as he set the brush down.

"3 Monate?!" He exclaimed as you nod.

"Come on, sit on the throne, it will be easier to get you bandaged anyway" You say as you walk into your bathroom turning on the warm water and grab the med kit under the sink, Kurt chuckles as he takes a seat on the closed toilet while keeping the towel around his waist tighter to keep modest, you beginning to take a warm rag to any noticeable cuts, making the man hiss in pain.

"Big Baby- Now why aren't you at Xavier's were Doc Mccoy can give you some proper medical care" You question, cleaning a would would some rubbing alcohol as you placed a large bandage across it.

"Ah Meine bessere Hälfte, you make it sound like you don't want me vere" He said with a cheeky smile, You giving him a playful glare as you began to wrap his torso in a thick bandage.

"You know that's not what I meant Fuzzy-"

"Nein, I was on the way back and we flew near by your place. Decided to stop by and visit" He admitted, while you wanted to be mad at him for doing something like that you couldn't. Instead going and placing some bandages on his face after wiping the blood clean.

"Well- Next time just teleport in, Id hate for you to catch a cold trying to visit" You say, shooting him a smile as you wrap up his fingers last- seeing a few cuts on them most likely from the handle of his sword.

"And All done! There!" You beam a smile at him which he returns, wiggling his three fingers at you.

"Danke"

You slide the med kit back and clean up the bits of trash from the counter. Kurt rolling up with a sigh as he followed you out still in his towel as he saw you chuck his pants into the wash having grabbed them from the floor on your way out.

"Uhh Engel my-" He gestured to his clothes in the wash.

"Ill give you something to wear, besides its late anyway- Just spend the night" You call out from your room, the sound of shuffling going on as Kurt turned to your tiny apartment couch.

"Ah Do you want me on the Couc-"

He was cut off as a pair of your shorts hit his face, Him pulling it off with his tail as he glanced in your direction. Seeing you already climbing in bed as you pat the space next to you.

"Get in the Bed Fuzzy-"

You call out, Kurt seeming to freeze for a moment before smiling- Stepping just out of your view to slip into the shorts before teleporting himself next to your bed.

"Goodnight Engel" Kurt said softly, his tail wrapping around your waist as you yawn closing your eyes and letting sleep reclaim you, a smile now on your lips.

Kurt slowly sliding into your bed as he gave a loud groan- clearly his body exhausted from his mission and a soft bed was more then welcome, Pulling the blankets over both of you as you cuddle into the Blue man, he hesitates but only for a second as he wraps his arms around you with a content sigh.

"Goodnight Blue"