#honestly I needed this today it's been a rough one <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[luveline]

could you write bau!reader x aaron, reader is pregnant and baby is so restless and kicking a lot as reader is at her desk working and aaron is the only one who can calm baby down

ty for requesting <3 pregnant!reader, 1k

“Woh,” you mumble, almost clipping your head on your desk as you lean forward. “Oh, my gosh.” 

“What’s wrong, mama?” 

You wave your free hand weakly at Derek, the other to your bump. “Nothing’s wrong, handsome.” 

Derek laughs warmly and stands from his chair. “I don’t believe you. Come on, tell me what’s wrong. Or I’ll go get the big man and he can force it out of you himself.” 

Hotch’s never forced anything out of you, but he has kissed a confession from you before. He could do it again easily. 

You right yourself as the baby’s rampant kicking makes you feel as though you’ll pee your pants. “Derek, there’s some crazy stuff happening inside of me right now.” 

He smiles at you fondly. “I bet there is.” 

“She’s kicking the shit out of me.” Sitting up, your back twinges and relaxes, the weight of your baby bump spreading out. You’re very pregnant and the baby is extremely active. She kicks pretty much 24/7 these last few days, and it’s driving you crazy. “Do you wanna feel?” 

Derek presents his hand for feeling. You stand up, and Derek lays a hand across your bump. You don’t have to move it anywhere: the second he touches you, he can no doubt feel the baby’s aggressiveness. She’s aiming her little feet almost like she knows where your most fragile organs are. 

One rough kick has Derek taking back his hand. “She’s beating you up, mama.” 

“She hates me.” 

“She doesn’t hate you,” Spencer says, twirling in his chair to give one of his innocuous tidbits of information, “babies kick for all sorts of reasons. They kick when they’re hungry, or after you’ve just eaten because of the extra glucose shared via the placenta. Sometimes they kick because they can feel sensation through your skin.” 

Spencer stands up. You raise your brows. “You wanna feel?” you ask. 

He grins and offers his hand. You take it and place it against the baby’s restless feet, smiling at Spencer’s smile, a little enchanted by how fascinated he seems. At Spencer’s touch, she starts to kick quickly like she had been with Derek, and eventually you have to move his hand in the hopes she’ll stop. She slows, but the occasional stretch pokes at your stomach. You can see the distension of her limb even through your shirt. 

“She’s really going for it today,” you say. “Maybe I had too much brown sugar in my oatmeal.” 

“You know babies can tell the difference between hands?” Spencer asks. 

“I sort of guessed,” you say distractedly, rubbing at the baby’s kicking with the crest of your palm. “She doesn’t act like this with Hotch.” 

“Good to know he has that effect on everyone,” Derek says with a laugh. 

“I might go and ask him to make her stop. I’m gonna need a change of clothes if she doesn’t.” 

Derek laughs again, full-bellied, his arm wrapping around your shoulders in a pitying hug. “Aw, sweetheart, you’ll be okay. Just two more months and this will all be over.” 

“Well, you never know. The longest overdue pregnancy in human history was almost a hundred days, that’s more than an extra three months.” 

“Spencer!” you say, not truly shouting, but your volume escaping you as the horror of a year long pregnancy sinks in. “Don’t jinx me.” 

Your loud voice, or perhaps Derek’s roaring laughter, draws the attention of JJ and Hotch, who appear from the depths of his office with matching curious expressions. JJ begins down the steps to the bullpen, while Hotch stays at the balcony waiting for an explanation. 

“Baby Hotchner’s giving it large,” Derek says, rubbing your upper arm. 

“She won’t stop,” you complain, relieved to see your stern husband. “Can you come and set her straight?” 

You aren’t always so quick to complain to him, but this is too much. It feels as though she’s about to start doing spin kinks against your spine —it’s honestly the most she’s ever moved. When you were just a few weeks pregnant you’d longed for her to wriggle and show you a sign that she could feel you, but now you’d appreciate a few minutes of calm. 

Hotch follows JJ down obligingly, and he, surrounded by your curious coworkers and colleagues, without any hesitation (but certainly some care), slips his hand under your blouse to feel at his baby’s sharp kicking. He presses against what might be a foot for a few moments, his smile barely hidden, his palm warm. 

“She really is giving it large,” he says, the deep softness of his voice like a signal. 

The baby’s kicks soften, until, barely ten seconds later, they stop. Your spine ceases vibrating, and you can finally stand there without having to press your thighs together. 

“Thank you,” you say, holding Hotch’s elbow. He’s well and truly saved you. 

He rubs your stomach with his thumb. His dark eyes stay set on your bump. “You’re welcome.” 

“I guess baby just missed her dad,” JJ says. 

You look at Spencer. He doesn’t say anything. “No correction?” you ask. 

“No,” he says, pouting that you’d ask. “Either she missed the sound of his voice, or your reaction to seeing him has calmed her down. That’s not a big difference.” 

“It’s both, I think,” you say, paused by a big yawn. 

“Are you tired?” Hotch asks. 

“Urgently.” You let yourself sag forward toward him, gesturing for Spencer, Derek and JJ to look away. “Thanks for your help, boys, but I need something no one else can give me.” You collapse into Hotch’s chest for a hug. 

The bump is very much in the way, but he reacts accordingly, ushering your chest to his, cheek pressed gently to your forehead. “She’s exhausted you,” he teases under his breath. 

“She really has.” 

“I love how she settles with me,” he says, rubbing your back for a long, slow handful of seconds, before he pulls away enough to grin at you. “But I suppose she gets that from her mother.” 

“You’re very calming.” 

“So I’ve been told.” 

[tpwk-formula1]

lando, gluten free, red sauce, onions, chicken, gouda cheese, mozzarella, pulled pork, kale with a sprite, black tea and green tea with dessert please <3

im imagining reader working for his team and they can't stand each other but always end up in each others beds somehow, he catches her flirting w another guy and although he usually wouldn't care for some reason he gets really jealous and has to remind her he's the only one that can have her ? do w this as you wish hehe

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

gluten-free enemies to lovers red sauce rough sex onions "I saw you being a little slut" chicken "Awe, you thought I'd let you cum that easy?" gouda “Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl” mozzarella “All you ever do is bitch and complain, just fucking take it” pulled pork "God, I love when I fuck the attitude out of you" kale "I love knowing I ruined you so good you can only cum when I make you" sprite size kink black tea choking green tea doggy dessert yes served by Lando Norris

Lando x fem! reader

TW - MEAN ASF Lando, crying, choking, 2 ass slaps, creampie, ROUGH sex, honestly just all the warnings :) MDNI 18+

WC 3000+ (sorry I got really into this one!)

Y/N POV

"Lando, you have filming for Quadrant today," I remind Lando softly making him roll his eyes.

"i know my own damn schedule," Lando snapped making me roll my eyes back at him.

"Then why do you need a fucking assistant," I say while throwing my hands up in defeat.

"I don't fucking know. I thought it would be a good idea, instead, I got stuck with you," Lando snapped back making me roll my eyes and get everything together that Lando would need for the Quadrant video.

"I love to see you try and live a week without me hounding on your ass," I snap back while placing Lando's backpack by the front door so he didn't forget it while also getting his lunch together knowing he would leave without eating if I didn't do it.

"I'm a grown man, I can take care of myself," Lando snapped back making me roll my eyes.

"Okay, give me the rest of the week off. I'll be back Monday morning and if you survived then I'll quit no questions asked, but if you don't then you will learn how to respect me and not be an absolute dick to me," I tell him while pulling his food back down onto the counter no longer preparing him food.

"Deal. It's Thursday which means I only have to survive 4 days, I can manage," Lando replied back making me smile and head to the front door to leave.

"Bye, don't be scared to call when you inevitably need help," I say while exiting and heading back to my own apartment.

I spent the rest of my day relaxing and enjoying my time away from Lando knowing tomorrow was gonna be a new day and he was probably gonna call tomorrow when he realized my job wasn't useless like he always liked to claim.

It was Friday at noon and by now I would normally be with Lando planning what his next week would look like but instead, I'm laying out on a yacht with Oscar.

Oscar and I had always been close. We both started the same year and both bonded over being so young working for McLaren and further bonded when I would rant to him about how Lando was treating me.

"Hold on I'm getting a call," I sit up softly picking up my phone to see who was calling.

I showed Oscar the caller ID making both of us smirk and laugh softly.

"Couldn't even go 24 hours," Oscar mutters making me laugh a little harder before I answer the call.

"Why are you with him," Lando seethed the second I answered my phone.

"Oh, quit it Lando. Do you need me or are you just interrupting my weekend off," I snap back at him having no patience for his jealous ass.

"Get your ass back to my apartment," Lando snapped back making me roll my eyes.

"Lando if this isn't for work related issues then I will not be coming over until I am done hanging out with my friend," I reply back emphasizing the word friend.

"Y/N I swear to God if you don't get you ass to my apartment in the next hour you will lose your job," Lando said back.

"And you're gonna tell Zak what exactly? 'I want her removed from my team cause she was hanging out with Oscar and I was a jealous twat who couldn't get my dick wet.' Sounds real mature Lando Norris. I will come over later tonight," I tell him finalizing my plan before hanging up on him before he could say anything else.

"I don't understand why you won't make it official," Oscar says with a raised brow making me raise my brow mirroring his actions.

"He's inmature and doesn't know what he wants," I tell Oscar softly climbing back onto the couch so Oscar and I can continue soaking up the sun.

"I just know he's call Max to use his yacht right now to track your ass down," Oscar says with a smirk making me laugh.

"Probably," I reply honestly.

"You ever gonna put him out of his misery and become his?" Oscar asks making me think hard before answering.

"I don't know. Definitely not until he starts respecting my work," I tell Oscar softly making him nod his head.

"I think that's fair. Maybe this weekend will open his eyes to realize how much you do for him. Going above and beyond what is in your job description," Oscar replies back making me smile, happy he understands.

"Hell, I too wouldn't want to share you if you prepared my lunches, made sure I had time allotted for a break, and spent the night in my bed," Oscar says smirking at the last part making me roll my eyes.

Oscar and I had a teasing relationship closer to siblings than lovers and it was refreshing to be close with someone in this crazy life we both live.

"You're an ass for that, Piastri," I say while laughing softly.

We spent the rest of the afternoon tanning and enjoying each others calm presence before we decided to dock and head back to our individual apartments.

"Better not find out I'm gonna be an uncle in 4 to 6 weeks," Oscar says with a smirk across his face making me roll my eyes and close the door to my apartment while Oscar walks the rest of the way to his.

Lando, Oscar and I all live in the same building making it easy to have group dinners or see each other when we are getting bored or lonely.

I hadn't even been back to my own room for 5 minutes when I hear a pounding on my front door making me roll my eyes knowing it could only be one person making such a scene.

"Open the door," I hear Lando say in a sing-song voice being far more menacing than I would prefer.

"What is your damn problem," I snap when I swing open the door making Lando shove his way through the door before taking my neck into his big hands and squeezing choking me slightly while he pushes me against the door.

"I saw you being a little slut. All cuddled up with Oscar in the middle of the water," Lando says getting closer to my face and showing me just how upset he is.

"You know damn well it's not like that," I snap back getting just as angry at him.

"Do I know that though? Cause between fans spying on yall and your own snap story it looks like you were dressed into next to nothing cuddled right up to Oscar's side," Lando scoffs back squeezing my throat a bit tighter making it more difficult to breathe.

"You're ridiculous you know that," I say while gripping his wrist trying to pry his grip off of me. Lando finally releases my neck but quickly grips my hard into a death grip and yanks me through my apartment where he dumps me near the bed.

I was on the floor when Lando situates me onto my knees before he quickly pulls his pants down with his briefs leaving his hard cock to bounce freely between us.

"Don't make me fucking tell you want to do," Lando snaps when I make no move to take him into my mouth,

"You're pathetic," I mutter softly before I take Lando into my mouth. I knew he heard me when his hands were on the back of my head again pushing his whole length into my throat making me gag and instantly start to tear up.

"I'm fucking pathetic? You're the one crying on my cock less than 10 seconds after giving it to you. Bet your fucking pussy is weeping too," Lando says while holding my head in place and brutally fucking into my mouth making me repetitively take him into my mouth. Once Lando has fucked my face for a few seconds he shoves his whole length into my mouth and holding me on his cock for several seconds making me gag and cry around his cock hitting his hips trying to get away from his brutal attack.

Once Lando pulls out of my mouth I yank my head away best as possible while I gasp and cough for air.

"Not so rough," I whisper softly through my hoarse voice.

Lando just pulls me back onto his cock and starts fucking my face again. Still rough but nowhere near as rough as he had been.

“All you ever do is bitch and complain, just fucking take it,” Lando grunts while still pumping his cock into my mouth. I can feel my tears have completely soaked my cheeks and my own spit in starting to trail down the front of my neck making me look like a proper used-up whore.

"God, I love destroying you," Lando says smirking when he pulled me off his cock leaving me to heave in heavy breaths while he stared down at my ruined face.

"Look most beautiful when you're wrapped around my cock," Lando whispers with a smirk before softly biting my earlobe making me whimper at the feeling.

Lando helps me to my feet where he quickly pulls the swim suit cover I was wear off leaving me in my bikini I had been wearing. I cringed slightly when Lando was eyeing my bikini.

"Turn around," Lando says roughly making me turn in curiousity. When Lando got a view of my ass he instantly slapped it leaving a large hand print behind.

"For someone who says Oscar and you aren't more than friends you're leaving far too little for his imagination. You think sweet little Oscar could destroy your pussy even half as good as me," Lando says stepping closer to my back making me rest softly against him.

"No Lando, only you. You literally fucking ruined me for anyone else," I cry out in confession. It had been true, ever since Lando and I got involved I hadn't been able to finish with anyone but Lando. Even my trusted vibrator was now useless.

"Oh is that true?" Lando says clearly a smirk laced in his voice.

"Yes, I literally can't even make myself cum anyone," I confess in pure annoyance at the situation.

"I love knowing I ruined you so good you can only cum when I make you," Lando says while turning me back around so I can see his face.

"I hate you," I whisper back.

"That's a fucking lie and we both know it," Lando whispered back getting closer to my mouth before finishing his sentence by kissing my lips.

I whimper into the rough kiss when I feel Lando start pulling at the strings of my bikini leaving me completely bare for Lando's rough hands to continue to explore my body.

When I feel Lando's large hands grip my ass I whimper out that quickly turns into a strangled cry when he roughly lands a slap on my ass.

"That side was jealous," Lando says smirking against my lips.

Lando roughly pulls his shirt off leaving him completely naked before he roughly throws me onto the bed where I bounce a couple times before Lando is gripping onto my foot and pulling me into him where he is kneeling on the ground next to the bed.

My pussy was now at face level with Lando who wastes absolutely no time to pull my clit into his mouth and start eating me out like a starved man.

"Oh fuck Lan," I moan softly when I feel Lando slowly slip two fingers into my pussy.

"Fuck, so fucking sweet," Lando groans before standing up and towering over my body and spitting into my mouth making me gasp in shock.

"Fuck I love when you're like this," Lando groans getting back onto his knees and continuing to eat my pussy out like a starved man. When he puts his fingers back into my pussy he's not nearly as gentle this time. He quickly shoves them in finding my G-spot with no trouble and attacking it.

"Oh my god Lando," I scream out and clench around him in preparation for the orgasm I can feel building in the pit of my stomach.

"Please Lan," I moan when I can feel myself on the edge of cumming. But instead of Lando giving me permission like I thought he would he rips his fingers and mouth away ripping my orgasm away with them.

"Lando what the actual fuck," I heave sitting up slightly only to be pushed back down.

"Awe, you thought I'd let you cum that easy?" Lando says with a smirk making me want to slap him across the face. Instead I just clench my hands at my side.

"Lando please," I finally beg out when I calmed down. Lando didn't say anything he just roughly flipped me onto my stomach before he pulled me onto all fours and pushed his dick into me.

Lando gave me no time to adjust, he just quickly started fucking into my tight pussy making me whimper.

"Too big," I gasp when I finally find my voice making Lando speed up his actions on my pussy.

"You can fucking take it," Lando says snapping his hips into mine making me whimper at the hard thrusts.

Lando pulls me up by me hair so he was still fucking into me but my back was now pressed against his chest where he moves his hand from my hair to my neck and giving it a hard squeeze making my eyes tear up again from the choking.

"Close," I gasp in a stranged moan not being able to breathe fully.

"Cum on my cock," Lando roughly states making me instatly start cumming all over his cock.

"Fuck Lando," I moan through my orgasm while Lando squeezes hard on my throat completely cutting my airflow off as I'm cumming only making it that much more intense. When my orgasm ended only then did Lando release my throat making me gasp for air.

"Lando," I scream when he continues to fuck into me as I fall out of his arms and back into doggy position.

"Please Lan, it's too much," I whine losing all fight I once had in my body.

"You can take it, love," Lando tells me softly while slowing his thrusts to let me catch my breath for a second.

"So pretty all fucked out," Lando mumbles before speeding his thrusts up and continuing to fuck into my overused pussy.

"Faster," I beg when I feel another orgasm starting to build up again. This one coming in far faster and stronger than the previous one.

"Cum for me," Lando grunts when he can feel my pussy clenching for another release. I instantly cum all over his cock again barely able to hold my body up anymore. I would have completely fallen into the bed had Lando not been holding me up by the hips.

Lando continues his hard and fast thrusts even after I have come down from my orgasm making me cry out again in overstimulation.

"Slow down," I scream out only making Lando speed up.

“Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl,” Lando grunts out before sending one final thrust into my pussy before I feel his hot cum start splashing my walls letting me know Lando was cumming deep into my pussy.

"Oh Lan," I gasp and fall half onto the bed while my legs dangle over the side. When Lando was slipping out of my pussy he made sure to pull out slowly to make sure to not overstimulate me further.

"Don't leave," I gasp when I watch Lando start retreating into the bathroom making him turn around and lock eyes with me.

"I'm gonna leave you. I'm just gonna grab something to clean you up," Lando tells me softly before disappearing into my bathroom and grabbing a rag before coming back into my room and cleaning my sore pussy up softly.

"Hurts Lan," I whine when he brushes against my sensitive clit with the rough rag.

"I'm sorry," Lando mumbles sheepishly.

I feel Lando observing me while I slowly climb into bed properly getting under my covers and pulling my blanket up to my chin as I watch Lando throw on his boxers before picking up his shirt and softly placing it on me.

"Thanks," I reply softly as Lando climbs into the bed next to me.

"God, I love when I fuck the attitude out of you. Now you're sitting here all pretty and blissed out," Lando tells me softly making me smile up at him.

"I don't like the way you dismiss my work," I tell him softly finally opening up about my feelings.

"I could barely survive today, please come to work with me tomorrow," Lando says turning his body towards me so I can look at him.

"Fine, but you better start having some respect for me all the time, not just during post nut clarity," I tell him back making him blush just thinking about what just transpired between us.

"And you owe me a plan B I promised Osc he wouldn't become an uncle in 4 to 6 weeks," I tell Lando making the both of us start laughing.

"Deal, and I promise from now on I promise I'll stop being condescending and undermining you. I realized how much you really do for me. I didn't eat until dinner cause I forgot about a meeting and had no time to grab anything," Lando confesses making me smile and laugh lightly.

"Didn't even realize I was such a pain that you were feeding me too," Lando admits hiding his face in my neck due to embarrassment.

"And I wanna work on us. I wanna build a better friendship between us so one day I can make you mine," Lando says once he pulls his face from my neck.

"I would like that Lando," I admit softly before pulling his face close to mine and giving him a soft kiss.

"I wanna keep doing this though and maybe sometimes not so rough," I tell Lando making him break out into a blushing smile.

"Deal. I would love to spend my time worshipping your body," Lando tells me softly making me turn red.

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

PAGES OF A HEART (M)

★  PAIRING: HockeyPlayer! Haechan x reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 9k

★ GENRE(S): strangers to lovers, Hate to love, Smut

☆ SUMMARY: You have been begging your campus librarian to let you join the staff for ages, but when she finally lets you on, you’re disappointed to find out that the campus’s star hockey player also joins. Can the two of you work things out after a rough start?

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Sexual intercourse, Unprotected sex, 

☆★ NOTES: Wrap it before you tap it. This was supposed to be fluff but I was weak and had to do hate to lovers. Like lol, I bet no one can guess my favorite trope! Bickering is my love language ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Leave nice comments, please <3 

Peace, escapism, and silence.

That is what you usually find when you go to the library. You love going to the library, whether it be to study, read or just get away from your normally hectic dorm. Today is different, though; today you will find all of those things and more. 

When you walk into the library, you greet Mrs. Lee as normal. She was the sole staff member of your college's small, cozy library. Mrs. Lee takes immense pride in her job and refuses to work with anyone else. She is very particular about the upkeep of the books, and honestly, you love her for that. The books stay in pristine condition thanks to her care. Even the dean has acknowledged her efforts. Ever since she took over the library, the campus has had to spend less money on maintenance, so he doesn't feel the need pressure her to hire more staff.

The only downside is that if Mrs. Lee gets sick, they’ll have to close the library since there is no one else to run it. Luckily, that hasn't happened yet, but you've made it your life mission to make sure it never does. You love going to the library, and you have been trying to convince her for months to let you join the staff. You weren't even asking for full-time, just maybe on the days she wanted to take some time off. You think you’re making progress; she gave you a “maybe” last week instead of a flat-out no.

You make your way to your favorite spot in the library before someone else gets to it. Normally, you arrive at the library as soon as it opens every day to secure your preferred spot. It's a little overkill because not many students wake up at 7 to make it to the library, but it was close to finals, so you wouldn't be surprised to see a few faces. Today you were only 5 minutes later than usual, but it seems that's all it took. 

Right there, sitting in the nook at the large window in the back corner of the library, is the prettiest man you have ever laid eyes on. The morning light shone over his tan skin like it was honey. His cute, plump lips blow at the messy hair that hangs in his eyes. He shifted his soft brown hair back with his hand before flipping to the next page in his book. 

Speechless.

You couldn't do anything but gawk at the man who sat in your designated seat. Normally, you would have passive-aggressively walked by the person, giving them an evil look, on your way to find somewhere else to sit, but you couldn't even manage that. You were expecting him to catch you with your mouth hanging open, but you caught yourself off guard with what you did next. 

He's struggling again to brush his hair out of his face, and you can't take it anymore. Your feet move before you can think and your hands are not to far behind as they dig in your bag for your spare headband. You kept one of those soft, stretchy headbands in your bag just in case you wanted to keep your hair out of your face.

In just a quick few steps, your standing in front of him, hand outstretched, offering up your headband. When he looks up at you, your breath almost catches. He is so freaking handsome. Before, it was impossible to notice, but his face and neck are covered in the most beautiful beauty marks, resembling stars. Up close, his lips appear soft, and he looks at you with the roundest doe eyes. You will not have this fine man thinking Your a weirdo So you force the air back into your lungs and speak to him.

“I'm sorry, I just thought you might want this... for your hair,” you say awkwardly. 

"Thank you; my coach keeps telling me I should cut it," he says with a soft smile, taking the headband from you. Placing the book down, he raises his hair out of his eyes with the headband. He had such a beautiful face that it should have been illegal for his hair to ever cover it up. You steal a quick peek at the book he was reading while he occupies himself with that. 

Oh Lord, you might actually be in love. He was reading a book by one of your favorite authors. The book he was reading was the final installment in a series you have been reading since high school. The book was actually just published a few months ago. You try so hard not to look like a fangirl, but you figure since he's reading it, he'll understand.

“Oh my God, is that midnight’s crossing? I just finished that book last week. The series is so good I love Vora; she's one of my favorite characters! She had such a well-written character arc in the second book.” You gush on about the book. You don't want to sound like your rambling so you cut your rant short. His soft smile makes you feel comfortable and you return it shyly.

“Yeah, I actually only just picked up the series recently. Normally, I don't have much time to read but I couldnt put the book down. I read the first three books in one month.” Clearly more interested in the conversation than you had initially assumed, he sits up a little straighter. “Vora was an alright character, but I think Theo is a more interesting character. I think that's why I'm really enjoying this book because it centers more on his backstory.” 

Theo!? Maybe your not so in love. Theo wasn't a terrible character, but he was definitely written to appeal to a male audience. Theo’s character was your typical macho man; you didn't really care that much for his story line. 

The poor guy doesn't even know his favorite character was going to get killed off in this book. One would think he would have noticed how strange it was that a minor supporting character would suddenly have a backstory in the series' final book. You had seen this pattern before, and it usually ended up in a character's death

“Theo’s alright,” you say. “He's gonna get a crazy fight sequence near the end.” 

His face lights up, and he shows you a beautiful, toothy grin. “really!? I can't wait; I've been waiting on them to give him a good fight!” 

You almost feel bad for…..”What was your name?”

“Haechan, and you?”

You tell him your name and let him get back to his book. He would soon find out that Theo's grand battle would be his last, and you did not want to stick around for that. It was a small prank in good fun. Sure, he was insanely handsome, but he stole your favorite spot. Not to mention, he thinks your favorite character is mid. You go find another corner and crack open your own book. You read for about 2 hours before you have to scurry off to your morning classes

Wood, leather, ink, and coffee

That's what you smell when you walk into the library saturday morning. You love the smell of the library. It's so earthy and cozy that you can't help but feel at home in the confines of its four walls. 

You got side tracked yesterday but today would be different. Today you were certain you would convince Mrs.Lee to let you check out books on the other side of the counter for once. You stroll in on time, no later than 7 a.m., and march your way over to her desk. 

Before you can even open your mouth to do your weekly pleading, she beats you to it.

“Yes! You can help out!” She huffs exasperatedly. “I only have so many years left to live, and each day you bother me, it's like I'm wasting my last precious moments.” 

Geez, you didn't think you got under Mrs. Lee’s skin that badly. Oh well, it paid off in the end! You were official! You were the only other staff member in the library. You felt so honored; you earned this!

“I would be more than happy, Mrs. Lee! I’ve been waiting for this for months. I won't let you down!” You beam.

Mrs. Lee gives you a warm smile and places a congratulatory hand on your shoulder. “I've been thinking about what you said, and you’re right. I can't stay cooped up in this library forever. I want to start a garden at home, but I’ve never had the time.” 

“That's great! I hope all goes well!” You encourage the older women. "So, when do I start?”

“In just a few moments, actually. I'll need to show you guys around the staff room and  how I like things organized,” she sighs, getting her pen and clipboard ready.

“You guys?” You question. You are praying you heard her incorrectly. Who else could Mrs. Lee trust enough to help run the library? Hell, as far as you knew, she only ever spoke to you! 

"Yes, we have another person joining us this morning. My grandson needs some extra credit, so I agreed to sign off on it if he helped out around here.” 

"So, where is he?” You ask

“Should be here soon; I told him I'd make his coach bench him if he were late,” she grits her teeth in annoyance. 

Like clockwork, the doors to the library open, and there he is, just a few feet away from the main desk.

“Theo!?” you say in shock

“Theo? No, That's my grandson” Mrs. Lee corrects 

“Its Haechan, and your a liar,” he corrects bitterly. 

Welp…It looks like He finished the book

“i didn't lie! He fought valiantly! ” You argue,

“He died!” he quips back, rolling his eyes as he makes his way to the counter. He slings his backpack on the surface and props himself up against it,leaning across to scowl in your face.

"Well, maybe if he—” you continue, but Mrs. Lee interrupts you.

“Children please! Goodness gracious, act your age and cut this out!” She exclaimed in disappointment. “We have far too many things to cover”

“Yes Mrs.lee”

“Yes grandma”

She gives him a stern look and he straightness himself immediately “Yes, mrs.lee”

Mrs. Lee showed you two around the library and the staff room before she went on a long-hour rant explaining exactly how she wanted the books to be organized and cared for. You listened intently and took notes. You would sneek peaks at Haechan from time to time, and he just stood there, nodding along to everything she said. No way was he listening! The stupid jock doesn't belong here! What sport did he even play? He was too handsome to be put out on a field! You were half way through cooking a plan to find his coach and giving them a piece of your mind for potentially ruining such a beautiful face, but then you realized you were supposed to be upset at him.

“are you even listening?” you whisper once Mrs Lee has her back turned. 

“Mind your business, Vora!” He says it with a lazy roll of his eyes. “You know, that's probably why you like her so much; she's so holier than thou. You must think your so righteous.” He slanders you.

Your forehead creases in aggravation. “Yeah, says the Theo simp! He's such a meathead; all he can think of is fighting, which is exactly why he ended up dead!” you spit back.

He opens his mouth to challenge you, but Mrs. Lee turns around before he can.

“Alright, I think that's everything, kids. Did I go to fast? Were you able to understand me? Maybe I should explain. It's one more time-”

“NO!” You both yell in unison.

“We got it, Mrs. Lee; seriously, I promise.” You smile confidently at her.

“ok then. Well, I'll head out early today and leave the rest up to you. I'll come back later to see how your doing.”

You try to stay positive. This wouldn't be so bad, right?

It's not that bad. If you call two hours of complete silence “not that bad,”

You did not expect your relationship with the cute boy who first caught your eye to turn out like this. You felt bad; Haechan did nothing wrong to you. His only crime was relating to a character that you were almost certain was written as satire. And trash-talk your favorite character. And stealing your favorite spot in the library that one time....ok maybe he had a few crimes under his belt, but they were nothing too serious.

Other than the egregious silence, things were going smoothly. You thought he wasn't paying attention, but you soon found out he was paying attention even more than you. You are honestly grateful that he was here; otherwise, you would have been stuck with a very angry Mrs. Lee lecturing you for two hours on not properly shelving the books. 

"Look, I'm sorry ok? This silence is driving me crazy. Can't we put this behind us?” You crack.

“You started it, princess.”

"Oh, that's really mature of you to point fingers,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“What, then is it my fault? I just wanted to enjoy my book.” Haechan glares at you.

He had a point. You two had started off fine until you started bagging on his favorite character. 

“Hey, I'm trying to do the mature thing and apologize; work with me here,” you say while organizing the checked-in books and preparing them for Haechan to shelve later. You figured he was a little better at that than you were, so you allowed him to fully take over the duty.

He looks up from his spot at the computer. He was fulfilling a request from a student to have a book ordered over from a different campus.

Haechan hits the submit button and sighs. “If we’re going to get through this, we're going to have to at least tolerate each other,” Haechan says.

“Fake besties in front of Mrs. Lee?” You suggest and hold a hand out in a truce.

He shakes your hand in return and gives you a devilish smile. “Don’t let me catch you on campus princess”

“Wouldn't count on it.” 

Sure, technically, you two didn't completely make up, but at least you made progress. At least the tension is alleviated. Sure, you could stick your nose in a book and ignore each other for your entire shift, but Mrs. Lee would kill you if she caught you slacking off. Making small talk with Haechan was the only way to make it through the day. Not to mention you enjoy watching the way he tilts his head in annoyance, tongue in cheek, when you ask him a million questions to pass the time.

“YOU GET TO SPEND TIME WITH THE LEE HAECHAN!? GOALIE OF THE NEO HOCKEY TEAM?” your roommate raves. “AND YOUR ONLY TELLING ME THIS NOW!”

“Jeez Rina I didn't think it was that big of a deal? Plus, it's only been a week,” you say. 

You were lounging around your dorm room when you explained your recent absence to your roommate. She was hounding you for details on where you had been. She assumed you were off sleeping around, but unfortunately for her and her everlasting need for drama, you've been spending time taking care of the library. You didn't think she would get that much entertainment out of it until you made the mistake of mentioning Haechan.

“Yea right! Every girl on campus has their eye on him! He's one of the star players! All he ever has time for is practice! and now apparently, library dates.” she adds.

“They are NOT dates. We can barely stand each other.” you argue. You lay on the old spring mattress and look up at the ceiling 

You didn't know he was such a big deal. Sure, he was handsome, so you assumed he was pretty popular, but this was a different ballpark. 

“I have seriously never seen him anywhere off the ice; how are you getting him all alone? Come on, tell me your secrets,” she pries. She probably thinks there's something going on, but you swear up and down there isn't.

“His grandma is making him help out around the library. Something about him needing extra credit or something? I don't know, but you're giving me a headache.” You didn't want to think about it. 

No wonder the man had such an ego. A Star hockey player? What was he even doing in the library? You had a million more questions you wanted to ask him next time you saw him

Today Haechan was forcing you to help him shelve the books. You usually just leave him to do it, but you guys had a few carts full of returned books that needed shelving. You two were towards the back of the library, finishing up the last of the books, when he decided to press your buttons. 

You see, you and Haechan were on better terms than when you first started, but you two are still at odds on occasion. There was definitely still tension as you went at each other's throats.

“Isn’t it kind of sad to spend all your time at the library? You don’t have any friends?” He says.

“This is fun for me,” you explain simply.

“This is fun?” He asks.

“What do you consider ‘fun’?” You ask. “Don’t you play sports? What's fun about chasing a ball?” You ask.

"Its hockey,” he corrects, shelving another book. 

“Oh? And somehow you can read?”

He turns to you slowly, and you can practically feel the frustration rolling off of him.

“I know your only friends are the characters in your little books, but real people have hobbies. Find one and leave me alone.” he says

You had about thirty minutes before Mrs. Lee came back to check on you two, and you had a few things you wanted to get off your chest.

“Yeah, like your real hobby isn’t getting a puck knocked into your numb skull? Tell me Haechan, what do your teammates think of you spending time with your nose stuck in a book instead of being on the ice?” 

“Go fuck Yourself”

“Only if you watch me” You grin back at him smugly.

He licks his teeth, sends you a devilish smile in disbelief, and leans down to meet your eyes.

“You are so lucky my grandma likes you.”

“Or what?” you ask, taking a teasing step back. You knew what game you wanted to play. You weren't just some bookworm; you were a cat, and Haechan was a mouse that you were dying to play with.

He takes another step towards you, almost closing the distance between you, but stops short when he hears the sharp click of heels walking towards you two.

“Smile and play nice,” he grits out with a plastic smile before turning to face his grandma.

“Oh my, nice work, you two! It looks like everything's been put up properly,” she says as she runs her hands along the spines of a few books, checking that the author's names are in alphabetical order. “You seem to be getting along just fine too! How sweet!” 

“Couldn't be any happier to work with uh��her” Haechan feigns like he forgot your name.

You know that Dipshit didn't forget your name; he just wanted to piss you off. Play nice, my ass.

"Yes, Mrs.Lee Haechan has been doing a wonderful job. I think he really deserves that extra credit.” 

He looks suspiciously at you.

“Oh yes, I think so too dear, but I wouldn't want to leave you here all day by yourself. We can still use him for a little while longer”

The realization hit him a beat later. You figured if you told his grandma how good he's doing, she would give him the extra credit already, and then he would have no reason to stick around. 

“I do wish I could tell his coach how well he's doing on his extra credit. I’ve just been so busy these days,” Mrs.Lee says.

It had taken some time, but you had finally put it together. He was doing this so he could play in the upcoming season! He must have been benched due to not passing a class; now he was stuck here doing extra credit. That explains the extra free time he has and why he's not on the ice as much.

No pass, no play.

"Well, Mrs. Lee, I can always send a message to his coach for you?” You offer.

"Well, that would be perfect, sweetheart. Here, I have some things in my office that I want you to take to him when you get a chance. Come now,” she waves you over as she shuffles excitedly to her office.

You follow behind her closely and send a quick grin over your shoulder at Haechan's stunned shock. You were playing a dangerous game with him. No one comes between him and the ice.

Did you want to end up in an all-out war with the Neo's goalie? Absolutely not, but that's exactly how the last few days have played out. Coach Choi wouldn’t be back on campus until Friday, so you had a few days to hang Haechan's fate over his head.

“Just wait until Mr. Choi finds out you called me a bitch” You would say when he was mean to you.

“You think Mr. Choi will let you play if he finds out your trying to skip out on library duty to go party?” You told him one day when he came to you asking to cover a shift for him.

If Haechan heard you say Mr. Choi one more time, he was going to lose it. First of all, it was Coach Choi, and he was sure his coach was still going to let him play; he was one of their star players. Haechan wasn't going to just sit back and let you bully him; he had a few tricks up his sleeves too.

“Grandma, I mean Mrs.Lee I brought you some fresh fruit; you can eat it with the tea I made you,” he says sweetly to his grandmother. 

“Oh, what a sweet boy! I knew working at this library would do you some good,” she gushes over him. 

She has been raving about her adorable grandson and how wonderful he was for the entire week. You knew it was all an act. He knew the most important thing to you was being Mrs. Lee's favorite.

For every “Mr.Choi” you threw at him, he would get a “sweet boy” from Mrs. Lee in return.

It didn't end there, though. Some of the Neo's are popping in more frequently now. It had been almost every day now that your favorite spot was occupied by some stupid, hocky jock with a pretty girl sitting on his lap. You had been looking forward to spending all day in your favorite nook after Mrs. Lee told you she only needed Haechan for the day. Now, as you shuffle around the tall bookcases of the library looking for a new spot, Haechan just smiles at you from over the counter.

Taking Mrs. Lee's praise was one thing, but desecrating your favorite spot with smelly hockey gear was another.

"Who stocked the books last?" Mrs. Lee calls out after doing her end-of-shift walk-through. She still didn't fully trust you and Haechan, so she would always walk through after you were done for the day.

"I just finished stocking them a few minutes ago," Haechan replies from the computer behind the counter. Somehow, he was able to run DOOM on the outdated computer system.

"I must be too lenient with you these days; you're making mistakes. I think you need more time with the book to learn their proper place!" She scolds

"What are you talking about I—"

"You shelved a book that hasn't been checked back in! I have been looking for this book all week! It was only thanks to Y/N that I found it" She finishes, waiving around a copy of Macbeth.

"I definitely checked that in!"

"No excuses! You're working the library all week by yourself if you still want that extra credit," she finalizes. All you can do is grin over her shoulder as he sends you a death glare.

Today was Friday meaning, all the fun was soon to be over. Haechan was let off easy, he was supposed to work today. Mrs. Lee wanted the library to herself today; she said she missed the smell of the books. You hope you didn't have to run into him, you had to focus on your meeting with Mr. Choi today.

It was midday when you decided to finally make your way over to the gym. You pull your jacket on, knowing it would be cold where you were going. As much as you tease him, you weren't actually going to say anything bad about Haechan to his coach. As much as you hate to admit it, you did believe he deserved that extra credit. He had been doing a really good job in the library. 

You finally reach your destination and push open the polished white doors to the gym. It was like the building was brand new; everything looked pristine. You were jealous that this was where all the school funding was going and not to the poor library, which could definitely use a remodeling. You shake the thought from your head and you walk further into the building.

In the center of the building was a huge ice rink, and surrounding it were cushined stands that almost reached the ceiling. Massive. That's all you could think of when you took in the scenery.

You snap out of your dazed state and scan the arena. You see movement on the ice and notice a blur of messy hair and tan skin effortlessly making its way across the ice. 

Haechan was running drills up and down the ice, maneuvering his puck in and out of obstacles cleanly. 

You make your way closer to him, and he's so focused that he doesn't notice you yet. Now that your up close, you can see the sweat as it glistens on his skin and drips down his neck. Man's was putting in work on that ice, and you immediately felt bad for trashing it before. This was Haechan's craft, and you could see just how much he cared for it. 

“I thought you were the goalie?” 

He skits to a stop and turns to your voice, confused. Once he realizes it's you, he squints his eyes suspiciously at you.

“Here to snitch to coach?”

“Humor me, and you’ll find out,” you smile.

He skates over to you and collides heavily with the barrier dividing you, making you jump. “I am the goalie; you know I'm the goalie.” He answers

“I thought you could only stay in the net, though?” You ask curiously 

"Technically, I can play outside of my net; I just can't cross the center line. "It would be stupid of me to play to far from the goal. These exercises are just for practice.”

"Where is everyone else?”

“Teams pissed I'm benched, so they won't play the ice with me until I'm officially back in the game,” he shrugs, but they can help him torment you throughout the week? Some team he's got.

"I don't understand men," you say, rolling your eyes.

“Its called tough love babe, you get it,” he teases. You fake punch him through the plexiglass, and he flinches jokingly. 

“You wish,” you mumble.

A comfortable silence settles as you just stare at each other with hesitant smiles gracing your lips, replacing the usual scowls.

“Why not help me out?”He asks

“With what?”

“Practice with me.”

“You want me?  on ice? I don't think so,” you laugh.

"Oh come on, Ice Princess afraid of a little cold? What happened to all that bite you had before? Afraid you'll lose some of the few brain cells you have?”

Oh he was so on.

He takes you into the storage room and helps you fit some spare skates onto your feet. He shoves a hockey stick into your arms and helps you back onto the ice. 

Oh it was so over

You felt ridiculous. You had no idea how to hold the hockey stick and you could barely stand on the ice. You figured Haechan must be getting a kick out of watching you struggle, but once you look up from watching your every step, you find nothing but worry in his eyes.

“Be careful not to fall; it's easy to bruise on the ice,” he warns gently as he skates circles around you, literally and hypothetically.

“I don't need your help; I can figure it out on my own,” you grumble And take a brave step forward. 

You knew the basics of ice skating, but that was just it; you knew it. Actually, putting it into action was a lot harder than you thought. You knew you were supposed to bend your knees, make a V shape with your feet, and lean forward slightly. That was the easy part, but actually moving? Not computing. 

You hear a soft chuckle behind you, and you throw a glare over your shoulder. 

“Let me help you,” Haechan laughs lightheartedly “can't help me practice if you can't skate dummy.” 

"This was your idea" You remind him

He glides over to you and hovers his hand on the middle of your back. Not fully touching you, but close enough, you know that he's there if you fall. You feel a bit more confident with him there, and you take your first step. You stumble immediately, but he's right there to catch you. He helps you right yourself and moves to skate in front of you. He grabs your hands and holds them steadily.

“The issue is that your taking steps; don't try to walk on the ice; push off and glide,” he explains. 

You follow his lead as he skates backwards. You stumble a few more times but your starting to find the rhythm to it. You can't help but smile excitedly at him. When you try to jump with joy, you immediately slip and fall. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the impact of the cold, wet ice, but instead collide with a firm chest. You had fallen forward into Haechan's arms, and when you lifted your head up, you found yourself a breath away from his face. You can literally see your breath mingling in the cold air of the rink.

Time is frozen, and neither of you moves as you watch each other, waiting for the other to make a move. You lick your lips, and you can feel his grasp on your waist tighten at the sight.  

“Can I ki-”

SLAM. The sound of a door echoes through the building as footsteps follow. You and Haechan part immediately, and you turned towards the source of the noise.

It was Mr. Choi, the exact reason you were here in the first place. It looked like he was leaving for the day. You really needed to talk to him and give him the things Mrs. Lee wanted you to.

“Oh! Mr. Choi, excuse me!” You call out to him and shuffle as best you can across the ice. Before you can even stumble, you feel an arm encircle your waist as they guide you across the ice, smoothly pulling you along. 

 You finally make it off the ice and waddle towards him. awkwardly hanging on to the  gaurd rail with the skates still on your feet. 

“Mr.choi Just. A moment.”

He finally turns to look at you and raises an eyebrow

“Mrs. Lee sent me; she wanted to go over Haechan’s progress with the extra credit but she's been too busy to come here herself,” you explain, a little out of breath.

The coach takes one look at your exhausted form and then at haechan before letting out a sigh.

“Follow me to my office,” he says, walking back the way he came.

You make your way to the nearest bench and down. You rid yourself of the deadly contraption on your feet. You grab your things and send Haechan a final smile. His eyes are glued to you as he circles the ice watching as you following Mr. Choi. You enter through the door you saw him walk through; it seems like the office is located in the locker room. You find the coach seated in his office, near the back of the locker room. As much as Haechan bothered you, he deserved his praise. You relay your report and don’t forget to give him the things Mrs. Lee had for him. 

“I'm happy to hear he's not causing any trouble for you”

“Of course not”

"please save me TT," you cry from inside.

"Well, keep me updated if anything changes; I know he can be a handful sometimes”

You smile at the comment and nod “I'll see you around, Mr.Choi.”

“Just call me Coach.” He corrects.

“Right,” you smile.

You stroll out and look over at the ice to find Haechan running his exercises again. He looks at you expectantly as he skates the ice skillfully.

“You'll find out soon,” you say, answering his silent question.

You heard the door open and close again, and Coach Choi appeared to have followed closely behind. Haechan gets called over, and you take this as your cue to leave the two alone. Hopefully he remembers your kindness and you can finally call a truce on this petty war.

Over next few days, things have been going great between you two. You were actually starting to enjoy Haechan's company. After giving good feedback to his coach, he decided you weren’t too bad. The time spent in the library together is filled with small laughs and light jokes at first, but as you two finally break from your apprehensive shell, you find yourselves completely opening up and letting your guard down.

Outside of the library, he's been teaching you how to skate, and you have been seeing more and more progress. You two even started buddy reading. This is how it should have been from the beginning. You didn't realize how much you wanted to get close to him until you finally did. 

You were currently on the rink with Haechan as you skated alongside him. You would follow behind him as he practiced and you would read aloud for him. Recently, he hadn't had time to read. His coach was pushing him to practice more as the season approached, so you read for him to ensure he didn't fall behind

You finish off a chapter and close the book. “how are we feeling about this chapter” 

“Too short; I feel like not much happened in this chapter,” he comments.

“I could read another if you like?” 

“Nah, I'm almost done,” he says as he comes to a stop to catch his breath. “lets wrap up”

You nod and make your way off the ice.

You busy yourself with untying your skates and haechan sits down next to you to untie his.

“when I'm back on the ice, are you gonna come watch me play?” he asks

Your wanted to answer right away but you find your mind wandering back to your conversation with your roommate all those weeks ago. Haechan was the hotshot player, who knew what kind of rumors would spread if you came to the game to support him

“I'm not really a hockey fan,” you say. It was true; you don't really follow sports.

“you wouldn't be my fan?” he teases

“especially not yours,” you joke back

“Seriously, it would mean a lot to me”

“when did you start caring about being seen with me?”

“since you stopped being annoying,”

Point taken.

“I'll think about it,” you say before you stand. Your make your way out and call over your shoulder, “don't fall behind on your chapters; I won't be able to read to you once they take you off the bench”

Mrs. Lee had finally concluded his extra credit, and once it was reported to his professor, his grade was updated, and he was good to play again. Of course, Mrs. Lee extended him the opportunity to continue working at the library, and when Haechan says he'll make time to stop by and see you, you believe him.

That was a mistake

It was stupid of you to think Haechan actually cared about spending time with you in the library. Once he was cleared to play, he put all his time back on the ice. 

If you crossed paths on campus, he would smile and wave, but there was nothing much outside of that. So what was all this for? Were you just there to help him kill time until he was back with his beloved team? You admit you started off really rocky, so you wouldn't put it past him, but lately you felt as though you really grew as friends. 

You knew how much the sport meant to him, but you couldn’t stop the hurt that followed. You were only human after all, and humans made stupid decisions.

It was finally the night of the first game of the season, and you sat in the stands as you watched the game unfold. Maybe Haechan was right to be cocky; he was really good at defending. You couldn't take your eyes off of him. The away team was down 15 points, and the game was coming to an end. If the team was good enough, they might have been able to turn the tables in the last quarter, but that doesn't happen as Haechan blocks almost every shot they attempt. He was quick and used his entire body to block his opponents shots. You had never seen him so focused before.

The buzzer sounds, and the crowd cheers. You come down the stands to give your congratulations. Haechan spots you as you approach and gives you a smile, opening his arms for a hug.

You weren't here for him.

You walk right past him and hug his teammate, Jeno. You had been getting closer with Jeno over the last few weeks. You had checked out a book for him one day and even helped him study it for his history class. You two have been talking ever since. Haechan's smile fell immediately. You wish you could have captured the look on his face. 

“Are you coming over to celebrate?” Jeno asks

“Of course I'll wait for you, ok?” You say and hug him tighter.

Haechan remains motionless, his face full of confusion and anger.

Jeno leaves you and heads back into the locker room.

Most of the team had started to head back already, and someone clapped a hand over Haechan's shoulder, dragging him back to the locker room and rambling in his ear about the amazing plays from that night's game. Haechan can't seem to pay attention, focusing solely on you and the sly smile that graces your lips.

You were honestly impressed by how quickly Haechan changed clothes. He was only in the locker room for about 5 minutes, and when he storms over to you, you can tell he skipped the shower.

“Jeno? Really? You're better than that,” he says, tongue in cheek. 

“Don't start; he's actually really sweet. What do you even care? You won the game, right? That's all you care about.” 

“I see what this is,” he says with a smile “your upset that I didn't make time for you and our little book dates, is that it?” 

“They were not dates,” you correct him 

“Could have fooled me. I see the way you watch me instead of the pages,” he counters

“Oh my god, you're so full of yourself." You say but don't deny his claims. "I thought we were past this.”

“You’re one to talk; your literally using Jeno to get back at me!”

“How can I get back at you if you don't like me? Why do you care so much?” You argue. “Admit it, you have a thing for me” 

He takes a step closer, invading on your personal space, and you can tell by the expression in his eye that he was about to say something devious, but Jeno interrupts you, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

"Nu-uh, she's mine tonight; back off,” Jeno jokes, whisking you away from the tension you and Haechan created. As you walk away with Jeno, you have a chance to look over your shoulder and catch Haechan's eyes. He gives you a look, but you're unsure what it reads as? You’re too far away to see, but it looks like hurt?

Jeno drives you back to his place; apparently,  the party was at the grand house that most of the team stays in. Most of the team stays together while others live on their own, but all the celebratory parties happen at the big house. You wonder if Haechan stayed here too? You shake the thought from your head. You would not think about him tonight; you had a point to prove.

Once you make it to the house, you notice most of the team is still setting up and getting ready. A few people were early, and they were mostly chatting out back on the deck. You follow Jeno up to his room and he changes into something more comfortable than the practice clothes he had thrown on after the game. You give your opinions on a few of the shirts he tries on and you find that its really easy to talk to him. He was super laid back and you could see yourself becoming really good friends with him.

“You and Haechan, huh?” He asks as he picks over a few chains to match his outfit.

“No, its not like that,” you say, rolling your eyes “Try that gold one on,” You point to the heavy chain sitting on his dresser. 

“The whole team knows something is up. You even practice with him sometimes.” Jeno says as he clips the chain behind his neck and adjusts it in a mirror. 

Your lying on his bed as you absent-mindedly scroll through your phone. "Hmm, not that one. I think silver would match better actually.” You avoid being put on the spot.

“Make up your mind,” Jeno groans, taking the chain off “I know your only here with me to make him jealous, so if you want my help, you could at least be honest.”

You look over his outfit again and give him a flirty smile “Who says I'm not? You look good. Maybe I want to try you?” 

He smirks and crawls over to you on the bed. He pins you down under him and kisses your neck. “You’re not fooling anyone, but who says we can't have a little fun” He teases and caresses your sides. You think he's going to take it farther, but he parts from you and goes back to his closet to find his shoes.

“Just kidding doll, he's my teammate. Even though you can’t see it, I do. He likes you,” he concludes.

You watch him put on his shoes and sigh. Haechan was ruining your chances of getting good dick now too? “You still gonna help me get back at him, right?” you ask.

“Oh definitely, he deserves a little tormenting,” Jeno says as he finishes putting together his outfit “He ate my leftover Kimchi Jjigae, so he's got it coming.”

You laugh and haul yourself from his sheets, joining his side as you both walk down to the party.

When you both enter the stairway, the music hits you, and you can practically feel the bass of the music shake your bones. Any more small talk was clearly out of the question, and you were grateful. You were not in the mood for any of Jeno's twenty-one questions regarding your feelings for Haechan. You doubted you would hear him even if he spoke right into your ear. He leads you to the main floor, and the house is packed. While he waves and greets a few of his friends, you rake your eyes across the crowd to see if you can find Haechan. There has been no sight of him so far. 

You make your way to the kitchen and find the drinks. You still hated the way hard  liquor burns as it goes down and settles for a mixed drink. You stick close to Jeno, hoping Haechan would find you hanging off his teammates shoulders, but you still haven't seen him.

It wasn't until about an hour into the party that you saw him. Honestly, after your second drink, you had already forgotten you were even looking for him as you began to have genuine fun with Jeno. He held you close as you danced on the floor. Although you were both past tipsy, you were not quite drunk. Jeno's chest was against your back as you rocked back and forth to the beat, his head nestled in your neck. 

Haechan had just come down the stairs; you figured he must have been hiding away in his room until this point. He locks eyes with you as your figure becomes entwined with Jeno's. Jeno peppers a few kisses against your skin, and you can practically see Haechan's breath catch in his throat as his face heats up in anger.

You smile in victory and you think he's seconds away from dragging you off the floor but he surprises you. He pushes through the crowd, but he doesn't come toward you at all. He angrily makes his way through the front door, slamming it behind him. 

You pull away from Jeno’s embrace, suddenly ashamed. "I don't think this is working” 

Jeno can't hear anything your saying, so he just screams, “HUH? WHAT?” loudly in your face. 

“I”M LEAVING,” you try to communicate through gestures.

“SHOULD I GO WITH YOU?” he asks, finally able to understand you

“NO IM FINE,” you make an x motion with your arms to tell him no and you point behind you, “GOTTA GO, BYE”  

You leave him in the crowd, and you figure he'll be okay because, when you turn around to spare him one last look, some other girl was quick to take your spot. 

You rush through the bodies of people and make it outside. There were a few people leaning against cars or huddled in groups chatting with friends, but they paid you no mind as you walked down the sidewalk, following a familiar figure that was a few meters ahead of you. 

He had his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he stormed ahead. No matter how much you pleaded for him to slow down, he kept walking. You had no idea where he was going until you spotted an old, run-down building. He was going to the library.

Once he got to the doors, he used his spare key to unlock it and rush inside. You follow after, finally being able to catch up

“Hey! Haechan, wait” You grab his arm, and he finally turns towards you.

“What! Isn't this what you wanted? To piss me off?” He asks in exasperation, his chest heaving in anger.

“Can we just be honest then! Why are you upset?” You challenge. 

“BECAUSE I LIKE YOU!” He yells in frustration, “I've liked you since the day you gave me your headband. I could have done anything else for extra credit You know why I chose the library? Because I knew you would be here!”

“You completely ditched me after!”

“I was busy!”

“Your insufferable is what you are!’

“You think you know it all, don't you!” 

"Well, I do!” You yell, “I know if you liked me, you should have acted like it!”

“Oh yea!?”

“Yea!”

With his lips pressed hungrily against yours, you found it impossible to think at all. Not with the way he pulled you closer to taste more of you. You could hardly keep up. One minute you’re at each other's throats, and the next his tongue is down yours.

He pushes you back against a bookshelf, knocking a few copies from their spot, and you pay them no mind as they clatter to the floor. You would have a lot to clean up afterwards.

“So annoying,” he mutters against your lips as he deepens the kiss.

You still can't keep up. All you can think about is the way his hands feel as they travel across the skin of your stomach. They were cool from the midnight air and you shivered under his touch. He backs away to let you catch his breath.

“Tell me you want it,” he says, a hair's breadth away from your neck. He gave you your moment to back out, to go back to whatever you guys were before, but you didn't take it.

“I need you, please,” you mutter as you bring your hands back up to his hair and pull him down for another kiss. 

You couldn't take another interruption; you needed all of him, and if you had to wait another second, you'd explode. He tried to pull away again for air, but you chased his lips, biting them in retaliation, and he whined.

“Not so tough now, are you” you joke, a bit out of breath.

He narrows his eyes and rests his hand against your neck “You need to be quiet; we’re in a library.” He tightens the hold on your neck and any rebuttal you had dies in your throat “another word and I'll leave you to finish by yourself and I don't think Edgar Allen Poe could turn you on more than I can” 

You raise an eyebrow and open your mouth to rasp out a response, but he has you facing the bookshelf, manhandling you before you can speak.

“Do not test me,” he says.

He has you pinned up against the shelves and undresses you. You want to complain about the amount of clothing he was wearing, but remind yourself of his earlier threat.

The library is dark and quiet; no one would be able to see your bodies dance in the dark. Your senses are heightened and they are all zeroed in on haechan. The warmth of his hands as they explore your body and tease you and the soft sounds that escape his mouth as he grinds his hips against your ass. 

For a second, you don't feel him pressing up against you anymore, and your protests die on your tongue as you feel him lick into your heat from behind. He’s grabbing at your cheeks, massaging them as he spreads them to make room for his face. He's so messy, and you can't help but blush at the amount of noise he's making. Your legs begin to shake as he sucks heavily on your clit. He pulls back and spits on your cunt, adding to the slickness, before inserting his fingers. As many days as you had worked with him, you didn't think it would ever end with him pushing you up against the bookcases and eating you out from the back. Just a few moments ago, he couldn't stand you; now he was on his knees, like he could worship your pussy for a lifetime. You would not be able to look at this library the same way again.

You could feel yourself getting closer, but you'd cry if you had to come around his fingers pathetically rather than wrap around his thick cock. You thread your fingers through his hair and grab hold. You almost don’t have the heart to pull him away, but you eventually find the strength. You pull him up from his knees and into another kiss, and you can instantly taste yourself coated on his tongue. 

“Fuck me already.” you say against his lips.

He groans and gets to work on taking off his pants. He doesn't part from you for even a second, and the death grip he has on your hips tells you he can barely keep it together. He slips inside and you both whimper at the feeling. He fucks you as intimately as someone can press up against a bookshelf in the middle of a library. All you can do is just grip the shelf. You could hardly keep yourself up after coming so close to the edge. 

He finally breaks the kiss, and you gasp for air. The lightheaded feeling makes you tighten around him. He's peppering kisses around your neck and down your back. 

“So good, babe;  you feel so good,” he mumbles. “We could have been doing this from the start but you just wanted to be a brat” He nips at your skin and lands a slap against your bare ass. 

“But all you needed was some dick. Now your so good for me, right baby,” he slows his thrusts down teasingly and presses another kiss to your temple.

His strokes are so deep and calculated you almost start crying. He doesn't like your lack of response so he snakes a hand in front of you and grabs onto your neck. “Answer me baby,” he threatens as he tightens his grip on your throat. His hips pick up at a brutal speed, and he's fucking you so hard that the bookshelf is shaking, causing more books to topple off.

“Yes! All yours! I'm your good girl” you really do cry this time. 

Haechan groans at the sight of the fresh tears that fall down your cheeks. He kisses them away, and he pulls your hips back to meet his thrust, driving deeper into your greedy hole. Your head is up in the clouds, and all you can make out is him whining “so good” and “just like that” into the crook of your neck. 

You cum hard and gush out all over his length. He thrusts into you a few more times before he finally releases deep inside. Your legs are shaking and you have no idea how your going to make it home. 

He pulls out of you and watches as his cum drips out of you. He did not feel like scrubbing his cum from the library floor, so he did the next best thing. He found his way down to his knees again and cleaned you up. You weakly push at his head, and you slump against the bookshelf. 

Haechan has to pull himself away before things get out of hand again. He helps you put your clothes back on and sits you on a nearby bench as he cleans up the mess you two made. He picks up the books and puts them back on their respective shelf.

“Mrs. Lee would kill us if she found out”

“Do not bring up my grandma right now” Haechan shudders at the thought in disgust.

Silence falls over you two as he continues to work. 

“Did you mean what you said earlier” you say, suddenly unable to meet his gaze, like he wasn't fucking the life out of you two minutes ago.

“Yes, I’m sorry for not being upfront with you. It was just so hard; it seemed like we  were always fighting,” he says as he shelves a copy of Huckleberry Finn.

“I'm sorry for the way I acted before,” you sigh “Can we start over...again...for real this time” you laugh.

Haechan finishes rearranging the books and sits next to you on the bench.

“Of course,” and he kisses you. 

This kiss was different from earlier; this one meant something and wasn't lust-filled like the other. This kiss was filled with secret promises and new adventures. When he pulled away and looked him in the eye, you knew things were going to be different.

[n0vazsq]

Way of the heart | OP81 x Reader

pairing . . . oscar piastri x racing!engineer!reader

summary . . . After a tough race, Oscar has nothing to look forward to more than spending time with (Y/n)

request . . . kind of?

word count . . . 1.1k

warnings . . . none!

alexavia yaps . . . i really hate this one for some reason like its not the best i could do but i wanted to write something so yeah!! the person who wanted this (im sorry i forgot your user), if you want another story i will totally write it!! tysm for asking <3

Oscar slumped into the chair in the back of the team garage, still in his racing suit, the helmet beside him on the floor. Today’s race had been brutal, everything going wrong until he finally crossed the finish line in a place he didn’t even want to remember. No matter how much he tried to forget it, the disappointment still clung to him.

As the crew packed up around him, you walked over, carrying a bottle of water and a quiet look of understanding. You’d worked with Oscar long enough to know when he needed a moment to think and when he needed someone to remind him he wasn’t alone. Today, he needed the latter.

“Rough day,” you said softly, offering him the bottle. He accepted it with a quick nod, cracking it open but not taking a sip.

“Understatement of the year,” he muttered, letting out a short, frustrated sigh. “Everything went wrong, didn’t it? Every call, every turn… feels like I let everyone down out there.”

You didn’t rush to disagree or to tell him it was all fine because you knew Oscar didn't want you to. Instead, you waited a bit, giving him the space to breathe.

“You know, racing’s a lot like life. Sometimes it’s out of our control, even when we do everything right. We all saw you fight today,” you said gently. “One tough race doesn’t define who you are as a driver.”

He glanced up, the frustration in his eyes softening as he met your steady gaze. “Thanks,” he said, managing a faint smile. “Not sure what I’d do without you, honestly.”

You laughed lightly, leaning against the wall beside him. “Lucky for you, I’m sticking around, win or lose.”

His smile widened a little, and after a few moments of quiet, he stood up, finally letting go of some of the weight he’d carried off the track. “Hey,” he said, glancing at his watch, “I know it’s late, but do you want to grab some food? Just… need to be somewhere that’s not here.”

The restaurant he picked was cozy, tucked away from the noise and chaos that followed you on racing weekends. He knew you’d love it, remembering how you mentioned your love for Italian food

When you walked in, his heart skipped a beat. You wore a smile that was both warm and teasing, the one that always seemed to make everything feel a little less overwhelming.

He stood, smiling sheepishly. “Hey, you look… great,” he said, his voice a little unsteady. The nerves of the race had melted away, replaced by a different kind of nervousness that he couldn’t ignore.

You grinned, taking a seat across from him. “Thanks, Piastri. It’s nice to see you in a non-race setting for once. And I have to say, you look pretty good.”

He laughed, glancing down at his simple outfit. “I tried, y’know, for you.”

The waiter took your orders, and as the evening went on, you two spoke about anything and everything but racing. The conversation drifted easily from favorite movies to random childhood memories. You two talked about wild stories and embarassing moments, laughing at every single thing.

But Oscar’s mind kept wandering back to you. How you’d been there every step of his career, how you’d seen him at his worst and still chose to believe in him. At one point, as you were laughing at a joke he’d told, he couldn’t help but stare a little, his heart pounding in a way that felt completely different from the adrenaline of racing.

The laughter quietened down, and a comfortable silence fell between you both. Oscar looked down at his hands, trying to think of what he wanted to say. “You know,” he began, a little quieter now, “you mean a lot to me. More than just… my engineer or friend.”

You looked up, your expression softening, and he felt his courage swell just a bit. “I think I realized that today, after everything went bad on the track. Just seeing you there, not judging me, not telling me what I should’ve done differently, just… being there. It made all the difference.”

You reached across the table, placing your hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’d be there no matter what, Oscar. You’re a brilliant driver and a good person. Bad race or not, that doesn’t change.”

His cheeks flushed, a warmth spreading through him. He turned his hand to hold yours, letting the silence speak for itself. And for a moment, all the disappointment and frustration faded, replaced by a quiet joy that he hadn’t expected to feel tonight.

Later, you walked together under the night sky, the cool breeze a welcome contrast to the warm evening inside. He found himself wishing the walk could last forever, just the two of you, away from the chaos of everything.

Eventually, you both settled on a bench with a view of a beautiful fountain. The sound of the water filled the quiet spaces between you, and he reached over, slipping his hand into yours again, holding it with a confidence he hadn’t felt earlier.

“This feels perfect,” you murmured, leaning against his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I wish every night could be like this.”

You let out a soft laugh, resting against him. “It’d be easier if we weren’t always at a race or in different cities every other week.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, looking out at the fountain. “But I think… I think it’s worth it.”

You turned to him, your gaze meeting his with a warmth that made his heart race. He took a deep breath, the words he’d been holding back finally finding their way out.

“Do you… maybe want to meet my family? Make it official?” he asked, his voice a little uncertain but hopeful.

You raised your eyebrows, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Oscar, I think we’re already there. You didn’t have to ask. And of course, I'd love to meet your family.”

He chuckled, feeling a weight lift as his heart swelled with happiness. “Then consider this official.” He leaned in, taking your lips in a kiss.

The kiss made butterflies fill your stomach, it was soft, but also made you crave more. It was something magical, like straight out of a movie. Oscar had his hands on your waist, and yours tangled in his hair. It somehow made it more intimate, more personal. You didn't want it to end.

When you finally pulled back, the smile on your face was everything Oscar ever wanted to see.

Hand in hand, you walked back to the car, and for the first time that night, Oscar felt a sense of peace, knowing that no matter what happened on the track, he’d always have you there, his biggest supporter, his steady presence.

And with you by his side, he knew he could face anything that came his way.

[tiredmamaissy]

Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode III

Calm After the Storm

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, rut cycle, heat cycle, extreme knotting, marking, scenting, territorial/possessive behaviour, breeding kink, p in v, mating/bonding, multiple climaxes, creampie, belly bulge, actual breeding, let me know if I forgot anything?

Word Count: 6.3k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Happy halloween guys! I know I literally fell off the face of the earth and I will make another post to address that. But I know I haven’t participated for @pandoraslxna ‘s kinktober event (I’m so sorry bby) but if I could only participate for one of the days it would be today for sure. So I definitely wanted to get this out before midnight. It’s not purely a/b/o but honestly entails all the aspects of it. I think we can all definitely tell who’s the alpha and omega here (Ralak is alpha material hands down, ofc). I hope you guys enjoy this one, and I apologize for such a wait <3 Also I feel like I’m a bit rusty, so apologies for any typos, errors, or just plain suckish writing.

ALSO a big happy birthday to my babe @neteyamsoare <3 love you and hope it was a good one!!

Synopsis: Your heat starts to subside, but Ralak’s rut is only getting stronger. What could possibly go wrong?

<- Previous -> Next

——

Only an hour has passed before you feel your not-so-gentle giant stirring behind you, waking you from your sleep. You’d both been on your sides for too long now and everywhere seems to ache. You whine when you feel his hips shift against you, tugging at the immense pressure between your hips. The bulge protruding from your lower abdomen has barely gone down and you feel almost as full as you did when he initially emptied his load inside you.

Silken strands of his hair fall onto your prickled skin as he props himself up on his elbow from behind you, perching his chin on your throbbing shoulder. He inhales deeply – longingly. His hot breath gently blows against your neck just as you feel his arm snake under your leg and yank it back in one rough tug.

“Ralak.” His name falls from your lips through a nearly inaudible croak. “‘m so full.” You barely mumble out, rolling your head to the side. Yet, the flame within you is without a doubt reigniting with a vengeance.

And he can sense it.

Simply by the way you push back into him, making that bulge in your belly protrude a little more. His large hand resting on your stomach can indubitably feel it. And the smile that it puts on his face is almost baleful, bearing his lengthy canines that yearn to sink deep into you once more. “Sorry, tìyawn [love].”

He just can’t help it.

No matter how hard he tried. The desire—no, the need—to fuck into you and claim you as his time and time again is… irrepressible. In this moment, nothing else felt better than your little, used cunt hugging his cock so tightly that it almost hurts. He yearns to fill you over and over. Again and again until your womb is overflowing with his seed. The mere thought has his balls pulling tight to his body, firming up by the second all just to flood your womb again.

“Muntxate [wife].” Ralak growls into your neck, sliding his hand down to your inner thigh. “I will try to be–” He groans slowly, his pointer finger now burrowing itself between your tied pelvises, “–flrr [gentle].”

The final accented word comes out roughly, and if it weren’t for his finger slipping past his knot and into your cunt, you would’ve probably heard it clearly. You yelp out when he traces his finger around his knot, stretching your already taut skin, attempting to work a little space to allow his bulge to slip out.

It's all consuming and you’re simply too overwhelmed with his size that you fail to realise how your body is synced with his and bearing down to push him out. All whilst he’s struggling to fight the snap of hips to avoid hurting you. But the tugging is nothing like you’ve felt before adn you can finally understand why he was so insistent in the first place.

ut there was no getting out of this now, not that you even wanted to.

“It–it’s…” You brace yourself by grabbing onto his forearm, “...t-too big.”

“Ngaytxoa [sorry]” He huffs out his fourth apology, losing himself once again as his hips finally jerk back out of his control.

Pop.

His knot slips out of you with such force that the squelch it makes is as loud as your whimper. It’s so wet and slippery that his cock follows behind his knot, sliding out of you effortlessly. He’s more than half-hard yet so heavy and hung it rests close to your knee. Then you feel it. His cum dribbling down your thigh, still warm and sticky as if he just filled you up seconds ago.

It’s such a conflicting feeling — a mixture of relief and pent up frustration. Your heat is still in full bloom, despite it being so quenched until you’re almost nauseated. It’s as if you were two pieces perfectly linked together, allowing nature to run its course with no second thought. He grunts when he feels the crisp night air against his groin, his cock now springing up to its full length in just a few seconds.

He, too, feels some sort of feverish way now. Itching to be back inside your warmth, enveloped by your gummy, slimy walls. He opts to pepper wet kisses along your neck, and then up to your jaw, lingering there as he tries to distract himself from the ache to shove it back inside you.

Until it becomes too much.

“Tanhì.” He moans into your ear, heavy lidded eyes struggling to stay open as his tongue trails the skin on the back of your neck. “Need you.” It’s his way of begging for permission. Permission to slam his cock back inside you and hammer into you until the annoying itch deep in his core goes away again. You were the only one to make it go away. To stop the hurt. “Please.” He whines out a plea of desperation, now gritting his teeth from the way his stomach is tensing. “Now.”

But that last plea wasn’t much of a question, no. It was more of a demand. A way of saying, ‘give it to me, or I’ll take you on my own terms’.

“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath, sliding your free hand down your side to hook it under your leg. You pull it back and reposition your hips to give him access to your cunt. “P-Put it in, ‘Lak.”

Ralak’s hips begin to stutter — the leaking, mushroomy tip of his cock now repeatedly prodding between your puffed up folds. His breath turns raggedy as he tries to guide himself back inside you handsfree. Your slick is overflowing, making it even more difficult for him to align himself with your entrance. The frustration brewing within him bubbles over when his cockhead glides past your swollen clit instead of sinking in your cunt. So he pulls back in one swift move and —

Thrust.

Your body jolts from how quickly he slams every inch of his cock inside you, forcing you split-open. Ralak huffs a shaky sigh of relief, his breathing growing a little steadier now that he’s deep inside his mate. Meanwhile, your mouth hangs agape yet no sound falls from your lips. Your eyes well up with tears and your ears lay flat against your skull. Your body is in complete submission to the beast dominating it and there’s nothing else you can do but give in to the pleasure.

“Your scent.” He whispers open-mouthed, tips of his canines grazing the nape of your neck. “It is driving me crazy.” You release the breath that you didn’t even realise you were holding. You didn’t even know what to say. Not like you could really say much right now anyways. You’re too lost in the fog of your own heat. For once, Ralak is doing most of the talking. “It makes me…” He snaps his hips back, only leaving half of his length inside you. “...lose myself completely.”

A deep roll of his hips.

A lewd moan dripping off your lips. 

“How do you do that?” He huffs, pressing his teeth against your neck. You don’t answer yet again. You just can’t find the words. Not right now. Not when he’s so deep inside you. “Hm?” A deep growl vibrates up his throat, his teeth just barely piercing the first layer of your silken skin.

“I—” You’re cut off by your own squeal when you feel the sting of his bite. Your breath catches in your throat and he immediately unlatches, lapping at the nicked skin to soothe it. “Sorry.” He whispers breathlessly, planting a quick kiss on each of your marks. “Sorry. Sorry.” A few more apologies flow from his mouth, as if he were drunk off of too much fermented fruit. Somewhat lucid but still so spaced. “I cannot —ngh— help myself.”

Thrust.

“‘M sorry.”

He knows he went a little too deep just now. But you feel so fucking good around his cock.

Chomp.

Another mark. Right on the bend of your shoulder, next to your first.

“Ngaytxoa [I’m sorry]”

A small cry from your quivering lips.

“S-Stop. No more apologies. I am yours to do what you p-please with.” You finally get out in one, weary breath.

Ralak’s languid, deep thrusts are laced with desperation. And with each stroke they become harsher and harsher. Faster and faster. Now he’s got your full permission he lets go once more, falling into the thick fog of his rut.

Within seconds his cock is pumping in and out of you, his half-deflated knot continuously prodding and poking at your entrance. The tip of his cock drags against your walls, putting an immense pressure right on your sweet spot. Yet still, sounds barely fall from your flushed lips. You’re too out of it. Too focused on the raw sensations rippling through you all at once. His overwhelming pheromones. His marking. His relentless pounding.

Rather, hot tears well over your eyes and stream down your face.

He can’t stop slamming himself inside you. He doesn’t want it to stop. It’s absolute rapture and he’s unapologetically drowning in it.

“Tanhì. Tanhì.” He groans needily. “y/n.”

He only says your name when he’s serious about something.

And hearing it drip from his tongue onto the nape of your neck has your hairs standing high and your clit throbbing.

“Eywa. Yes, ‘lak? T-Tell me what you need.” You blubber out, tightening your grip on his forearm.

“Haa — spread yourself.” He demands, prompting you to tuck your leg back as far as you can. His pace quickens, hips striking you with a sinful vengeance. But no matter how hard he fucks you, or how deep he buries himself inside you — its just not enough. He needs to be closer. To be deeper. To really be inside you. To knot you.

“More.” He grunts, slowing his thrusts into rocking, grinding himself inside your slippery, tight cunt.

You go to tug at your leg and meet nothing but resistance. “I-I’m trying.” You can feel it now. Perhaps it’s the bond or maybe it’s the way his knot is working you open but he’s growing more and more frustrated by the thrust.

“Mmmh. Wider.”

“I can’t. I can’t.” You’re quick to answer, feeling nothing but pressure from the way he’s trying to shove more of himself inside you.

“Agh.” He growls in frustration, pulling out of you and grabbing you by the ankle to flip you onto your back.

Ralak situates himself between your legs without hesitation and pushes them so far back your knees graze against the tips of your ears. You can barely breathe in this position and are having a hard time seeing anything else but his raging cock at your entrance. You can feel the burn in your thighs from how far back he’s shoving your knees but that sting is masked by the pleasure of him plunging himself back into your pussy.

The moan that rips from your lips is obscene and like no other. The crown of his cock is drilling itself directly into your sweet spot, causing it to swell with unadulterated pleasure. And each time he pulls out just to sink it back inside you he winds you in the process – making you sputter out absolute nonsense. Even he knows you're close, despite being in the thick of his rut.

But frankly, he doesn't care.

All he’s concerned about is satisfying his own urges.

“Not enough.” He grits through his teeth as his eyes shift to an even deeper shade of mauve. “‘ts not enough.” He pants, voice laced with something of worry. Panic that this feeling won’t go away. It makes you panic too, wondering if you’re doing enough for him. If he’s going to take even more from you. If you can manage it.

“You’re okay. Do what you need.” You try to reassure him, grasping your feet and holding them back–opening yourself up even more. But fuck, that only made things worst for you.

And by worst, you mean better. It feels like you’ll burst any second now, especially with how much pressure is on your bladder. “Fu-ck me. God, fuck–ahaa-fuck me.”

His brows bunch together as he peers down at you, beads of sweat rolling off his face to drip onto your chest. His jaw is so tense it looks as if it may fracture. He’s grunting with every push and huffing with every pull.

“Right there! Fuck. I’m close. I’m so fucking close. I-I need you to cum i-inside me. Oh—please ‘lak. Please!” Your cries are choked and muffled, breaths short and raggedy. The heat pooling in your core is unbearable. It needs out. Now.

Ralak swallows. Hard. Through his own haze he can see that you’re in need too. He shuffles closer to you, tucking his feet under him to assume a squatting position. Now he’s all but on top of you, folding you into a merciless mating press. This one shift in position has you coming undone on his cock, coating it in your thick slick as you sob from the white hot pleasure. The force of your climax has you pushing him out and only has him drilling himself further inside you. If it’s not for the way your pussy walls tighten around him surely his knot would have popped inside you by now.

He’s still fucking into you, right through your orgasm and towards his.

“Say what you need.” He panics through a tightened jaw, grinding himself inside you – pushing his knot against the resistance.

You know what he’s actually asking from you. To say something. Anything to tip him over the edge. To rid him of this maddening itch.

“Breed me.” You whisper, locking eyes with him. You watch as his pupils blow into thin rings and then constrict into nothing but dots. You try to swallow what spit you could, attempting to clear your throat. “Breed me. Please.”

“Then take it.” He lets loose a sinister growl, putting all his weight into his final push. For the first time, you feel his knot pop inside you, veiny and as thick as can be. You let out a high-pitched whimper, and feel your teeth begin to chatter. That doesn’t make him ease up, though. He continues to grind himself inside you until you feel the familiar, warm sensation of his sticky seed spraying inside you – filling your womb to the brim. His cock throbs wildly, in perfect synchrony with his own heartbeat, and soon yours too as the bond equilibrates your souls once more.

Strangely, you thought you’d be sore and overstimulated by now, but your body has never felt better. You’re full and content and more than satiated. Ralak heaves a sigh — one of pure relief. It’s glued to his face. All panic washes away and he’s feeling more at peace the longer he remains inside you. He’s rigid, firmly holding his position on top of you — ensuring he empties every single drop inside you. Yet, his heavy lidded eyes begin to close.

“I can’t breathe.” You mumble, snapping him out of his tranquil trance. His eyes meet yours and the corner of his mouth pulls into a little smirk. He exhales a breathy chuckle and carefully manoeuvres you both into a more comfortable position. He settles himself on his back and supports your body whilst positioning you on top of him.

“Better?” Ralak husks, drawing circles into your back with the tip of his finger.

You take a deep breath, filling your lungs to full capacity and then slowly release it. “Much.”

“Nga yawne lu oer [I love you]” His accented words slur together as he dozes off.

“Nga yawne lu oer, Ralak [I love you].”

——

Ralak woke repeatedly throughout the night for his fill. If it wasn’t him, it was you. Waking up in a clammy state, shaking and nuzzling into his chest from your heat. You honestly thought that the more time passed — the more rounds you went — the more he would calm down.

But, you thought wrong.

He’d start by leaving tender kisses wherever he could, whispering he’d do his best to be as gentle as he can be. Then, he’d slip a finger inside you, stretching you out in attempts to pull his knot out without hurting you. But it would always sting, even just a little bit. After that he’d beg. Pleading with you to let him back in, and apologize right after plunging inside you regardless of your answer—which was always yes.

At this point your own foggy haze would take over. Perhaps it was your body’s way of coping with the overstimulation, but you pined for every single second of it. Sometimes it would last for a few minutes. Where he’d be quick to fold you in two and growl in the shell of your ear, ‘you’re mine, haah — fuck, take me’. 

Sometimes it was closer to an hour. Where you’d both be so tired you’d take breaks, lazily taking turns fucking each other, telling him to ‘put it back in’ whenever he’d slip out. But one thing remained the same every time. You’d sob when you’d cum and then beg him to breed you. And he would, without a doubt, breed you.

Mercilessly.

And with each breeding, he’d lose himself a little deeper. Knotting you over and over. Marking you repeatedly until your body’s littered with bites. Until you were so fucked out you’d lost the feeling in your legs. Until your throat was so dry you could barely speak. Until you needed a break.

——

“Wait.” You crawl towards the bedside table with wobbly knees. “Just need some water, Lak.”

Ralak pounces on you, knocking you onto your stomach and pressing himself against you. You extend an arm out, fingers splayed out and shaking from you trying to reach the cup of water Ka’ani left there more than a day ago. Ralak grabs your hips and hoists you up onto your knees and elbows, and mounts you from behind.

“Water. Water, Lak.” You beg with a hoarse cry, only for him to line the crown of his cock up with your sopping cunt. He growls next to your ear as he stretches over you and reaches for the cup of water, filling his cheeks and putting it back down within a couple seconds. With a quick grip of your jaw, he turns your head and meets his lips with yours.

Before you can process what’s going on you’re gulping down water as fast as you can. And when he pulls away, you’re yet again met with the hazy eyes of his rut. That’s when it dawns on you that whilst your heat is coming to an end, his rut is only getting stronger.

Rather than looking away, he locks his gaze onto you, just so he can watch your face screw as he slams his cock inside of you in one, hard thrust. It works a sudden, breathy moan from your mouth, eyebrows pinching together from the stretch. He holds his position, basking in the warmth and tightness of your cunt as his breath goes shaky.

“Wait.” You mumble weakly, shoving a hand behind you to push against his lower stomach. “Please.”

For the first time, you were telling him to stop.

His jawbone flutters as his eyes search yours. Restraint plasters to his face, and the only audible thing is his heavy breathing. He nods. Just once. A firm and intentional nod. He swallows the residual water left in his mouth and tenderly pulls out of you. You hear the thud of his footsteps quiet down as he nears the marui door, and then the splash of the water when he dives into the rough sea.

It’s pouring outside.

Storming, actually. Thundering and lightning. Yet he feels this is the only way he’d be able to resist the urge to storm back in and fuck you. But the instinct to protect his mate, even if it’s from himself, is more than enough to give him the willpower to walk away.

You take this moment to just breathe, turning your head to face the plush bed beneath you as you gather your thoughts. Did he just show that much restraint? Enough to walk away from a female na’vi during her heat cycle… all whilst in the height of his own rut cycle?

“Lekye’ung [insane]” You mutter, using your trembling hand to grab and bring the cup to your lips. They, too, are sore and chapped. Having gone so many hours without any food or water, you knock it back, shaking the cup to get out every drop. Finished already? You think to yourself, looking inside the cup with hazed vision, confirming it’s indeed empty.

After setting it back down onto the table, you slump back into the bedhead, relaxing your body. You’re sore. Actually, sore is an understatement. Every single muscle and fiber in your body burns—and that isn’t entirely due to your heat either now that it’s finally subsiding. Perhaps you should be taking this time to have a look at your… condition, but you’re finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.

So you give in, sinking further and further into the bed as you doze off.

—

A few hours go by and Ralak returns with a net of fish thrown over his shoulder and a bucket of fresh water perched on his hip. He carefully sets down the bucket and rests the net next to the fire pit. He’s cautious not to wake you, nor come too close to you. Ralak ignites the fire and fans the flame. As quietly as possible, he prepares and cooks the fish, setting them aside to wrap in the leaves of a spartan tree.

Since coming to Awa’atltu, one of your biggest adjustments—despite the obvious—has been your change in diet. Fish weren’t uncommon back home, but they certainly weren’t the main source of food. You prefer the other foods here, your favourite being what you call ‘inland boar’, which is an animal that resembles what your father calls a ‘pig’ from his star.

But not even that, (boar) could smell better than this (fish).

The aroma alone rouses you from your sleep.

Your eyes open to a dark room and a glowing fire pit. The fire is out but the wood remains hot, shifting among different shades of orange and red. Ralak sits beside it, with his back leaning against the support beam of the pod. His arms are crossed over his chest and his knees are slightly bent. It’s hard to see more than just his silhouette with the lack of moonlight.

“That smells good.” You rasp. Ralak’s eyes fly open to reveal a familiar shade of deep blue. Like the sea. They glow and flicker before you, examining you now that you’re sitting up out of bed.

Crack.

A bolt of lightning strikes in the distance, illuminating the room. For a moment, you were able to see every single bike mark, scratch and bruise you’ve given him. It also reveals that he’s shaking. Trembling from being wet and cold, or possibly from the strain he was putting himself through from just being in the same room as you.

Ralak moves quickly, shuffling to his feet and going right for the leaf that holds a few sloppily rolled fish. He brings it to you, setting it slowly on your lap, being overly cautious not to touch you. Grabbing your cup on the table, he dunks it in the bucket and sets it beside you.

“Eat.” He whispers, backing away to sit next to the pit. You watch as he slides down the beam and into a sitting position, and then glance down at your food. Saliva pools in your mouth from the aroma wafting up your nose.

You’re hungry.

“Thank you.” You say quietly, hastily stuffing an entire roll into your mouth.

You moan as you chew, nodding your head from how good it tastes. It’s hard to swallow, given that you bit off more than you could chew—literally—but when it finally goesdown you feel your stomach grumble for more. Ralak watches you intently. A wince screwing his face with every swallow he witnesses. And when you finish, you chug down your water and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

Another crack of lightning strikes, and then a low, lengthy rumble of thunder follows.

“That was… one of the best you’ve made, lak.” You say with a wobbly smile, slowly getting on your feet to wash your hands. The bucket is nearby your mate, who is still fixed in position. Although he remains unmoving, his eyes follow your every move. You shake your hands to dry them and shuffle over to Ralak and sit next to him.

“so… how do you feel?” You ask quietly, raising your hand to check if he’s feverish. He turns his head before your hand can make contact with his skin and his gaze locks onto the charred wood in the fire pit. 

“Fine.” Ralak mutters.

Eyebrows pinching in confusion, you tilt your head to try and look him in the eye. Your brows relax when you come to the realisation that he’s already taken care of himself. And only Eywa knows how many times.

“You know, you didn’t have to do that. I would have—”

“Ma’ muntxate [my wife]”He croaks, swiftly turning his head to look directly into your eyes. “Oeru txoa livu [please forgive me].”

“Txoa? [forgive?] What for, ma’ muntxatan? [husband]”

“I have… neglected you.” He’s struggling to speak. You can hear it in the strain of his voice.

Regardless, none of his words are really making any sense to you right now. How has he been neglectful? Despite the circumstances, it’s obvious he’s been trying his hardest to be good to you. Somehow, even conjuring up the strength to pull out of you and walk away.

“Ralak. You have not. Please, I—”

“Look at yourself.” He snaps, taking a quick glance at your body before dropping his head in his hands.

Crack.

Conveniently, another strike of lightning and boom of thunder, revealing exactly what he’s talking about. For a few seconds, you’re met with the sight of your battered body—scabbed and bruised. You lift your head, staring at his shameful demeanour. But the more you stare, the more you see your own reflection.

“And have you looked at yourself?” Your words bounce as you shuffle closer to him. “I bet you can’t even feel all that damage I’ve done to you.” You coo, using your thumb to gently graze past an easy six-inch scratch mark on his bicep. “I haven’t been so gentle with you either.”

Ralak shakes his head, allowing it to sink further into his hands. “You were starved.” He mumbles into the palms of his hands.

You sigh, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin in the dip between them. Your eyes wander over to the fire pit, catching sight of the outline of a few fish rolls.

Has he really punished himself by not eating?

“Have you eaten?” You ask, resting a gentle hand on his back.

“No need.”

“You should, you know. Don’t want you starving on me, lak.” You say lightheartedly, allowing your hand to slide up his spine and to the base of his skull.

He lets loose a quiet groan, fighting the twitch of his ears. Your fingers smooth over the base of his kuru, playing with the braid encasing that covers it. “If you do that—”

“Do what?” You whisper coyly, quickly running your hand down the length of his kuru.

His spine immediately straightens, his head lifting from his hands. The tips of your fingers gently make their way to his tendrils, carefully teasing them as they try to wrap around your digits. He sucks in a sharp breath and closes his eyes, allowing a shiver to run through him. It feels like your fingers were inside his skull, tickling his brain in the best way possible. 

Reaching for your kuru with your free hand, you bring it up and over your shoulder. You lean into Ralak, your lips only inches away from his. You pull away your fingers to grip and pull his queue forth. The loss of contact has him sitting up straight, opening his eyes to look at you.

“I will not let you suffer alone.” You whisper, lessening the distance between the two of you, tilting your head to the side ever so slightly. He stills himself, even limiting his own breath so as not to make any sudden moves. “Okay?”

You wait for just a moment. For him to say something. To move away. But he remains stock-still, waiting for you to initiate this. You smile, your top teeth briefly rubbing against this lower lip, and lock your lips with his. He exhales through his nose, coming to life from your kiss and returning it full force. You take this as a good sign. A sign that you’ve broken through that wall once again, and bring your kurus together — making tsaheylu [the bond].

Both your eyes fly open, blown pupils staring into one another as your spirits unify. You both pull back, shoulders and chests heaving from your quick, unsteady breaths. You feel all that he feels – the frustration, the panic, the tension. It’s all fading, now finally nearing the end. He feels your subsiding heat, your soreness, your overpowering urge to care for him.

Before another second could pass, your lips crash into each other again—tongues intertwining as they explore one another’s mouth. Using his hand to support your upper back, he slowly lowers you onto the woven floor, parting your legs with his free hand. He situates himself between them, pressing his crotch firmly against yours. He’s warm, just like the toasty fire pit next to you.

I will try to be gentle. Ralak thinks to you, just like he’s been promising to be night after night.

I know you will. You smile, moving your kisses down his jawline as he slides his hands between your sticky pelvises.

——

It hasn’t even been two full weeks since the synchronous heat that had you and your mate locked away in your marui pod for a little over two days. Your back and thighs–and honestly everywhere else– still ache but outside of that, you feel like a brand new person. You weren’t able to confidently say that Ralak feels the same way, however.

Of course, he was adamant on limiting intimacy until you were ‘healed and recovered’. But, he had a bounce in his step. As if he were physically lighter. As if the weight of six years of pent up sexual frustration and self neglect melted off his back when you satiated the ‘insatiable’.

The constant aftercare was almost sickening. Even after most of your marks had faded he remained adamant on treating them with your own omaticayan herbs from back home. He praised them at every use, thanking your people for making such exceptional ’umtsa [medicine].

But as you entered the second week, after tons of reassurance, things dissipated and went back to normal. Ralak went back to his usual routine—fishing, hunting, responding to a few calls to Tonowari and your father. Ralak, without a doubt, made a vow to you and himself not to initiate anything until you were more than healed. But nonetheless clung to you in the nights.

He even, in fact, added a new step into your usual nighttime regimen. As usual, it began with the snuggles and tucking you under his arm just right, providing you with enough warmth to endure the cool night air. Then, he would release the perfect amount of pheromones to get you drowsy enough for bed.

But recently, he’s spent the past seven nights delaying the nightly routine until he’s had his fill of your scent. He’d lay himself down on your chest, nuzzling his face into your bosom and just breathe. You allowed it, thinking it was his own newfound way to wind down for bed.

Yet, the real reason was much different.

——

Right on the two week mark, Tsireya had roped you in with helping her with some of her Tsakrem duties. You were always happy to help her though, as it meant getting away from the marui pod for a little even if it meant being poked and prodded at.

And it certainly didn’t take long for that to happen.

Tsireya lets out a frustrated sigh and plops the medicinal pouch she’s weaving in her lap.  “I can no longer ignore it, y/n. You smell different.”

You lift your head, tearing your focus from your task of weaving and look at her with a puzzled expression on your face. You bring the end of your tail to your nose and sniff, but smell… nothing. “Like what?” Her brows lower and her eyes glisten with concern. She purses her lips and unsheathes the lengthy pin from its casing and grabs your hand. “Here we go.” You mutter to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as you anticipate the sting.

Prick.

“Sss—ah! You need to be careful with how deep you go with that, you know. You could really—” The tsahik in training puts the wooden stick to her tongue and stares at you wide eyed, mouth agape. It’s as if she wants to speak but the words are lodged in her throat. “What? What is it?”

“You—perhaps I am wrong.” She stutters, quickly sheathing the tool back into its casing. “You should see my mother, y/n.”

“What? Why? Just tell me.” The words come out in a haste, and your voice is laced with panic. Do you have some sort of disease of the sea? Is there a cure? 

“You — you are with child.” Her lips tremble as she says the words in an uncertain tone of voice.

“What?” You stare at her dumbfounded, a little caught off guard by her choice of words.

“Pregnant. You’re pregnant. But I am likely mistaken. I am only in training. Which is why I said you should see my moth—”

“Oh. No. You’re… you’re probably right, Tsireya.” You swallow the spit pooling in your cheeks, avoiding eye contact.

“H-How? I mean. I know how. But how? Surely Ralak knows not to do such a thing during your heat. He can control himself. R-Right?”

“Right. If I were the only one… in heat.” You say the last few words under your breath, fixing your shawl before picking back up your task.

“What do you mean?” Tsireya leans in with a tilted head, looking a little closer at your covered shoulder. “Did you help him with his rut?” Tsireya asks bluntly. “He’s been unmated for six years, y/n. Did you reall—”

“I am his mate. Of course I did.” You nearly snap, baffled by the tone she’s having with you.

“H-How did that even work?” Tsireya shakes her head, slowly raising her hand towards you.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You finally lift your head to shoot her a puzzled, yet offended stare. “It worked like it would for any other Na’vi.”

“Y/n…” Tsireya quickly grabs your shawl, pulling it off your shoulder to reveal a large, deep and scabbed up bite mark. It looks almost infected because of the strange omaticayan herbal concoction smeared over it. “You should have just let him ease you into it. Look at you, you’re all bruised and—”

“Tsireya.” You interject, “thank you for the concern, but—” you aggressively pull up your shawl, “I feel just fine. Besides, being in heat was the best way to ‘ease me into it’…He was as gentle as he could be.” You mutter, twiddling with the twine as you think back to the way he tried to handle you with care.

“By the looks of it, he was anything but gentle with you.” Tsireya seethes, angry that the man she grew up looking at like a brother would do something like this to you.

You wince at her words. They’re like a knife to the heart.

A long, awkward silence fills the space between you and Tsireya. She reflects on everything she’s said, realising that perhaps she was a little more harsh than needed. She softens her gaze, “I’m sorry. I should not have said that. I just hate seeing you hurt.”

“I get it. I know you’re just looking out for me. It’s alright, ‘reya.”

You exchange lighthearted smiles.

“You are definitely pregnant then. After six years, he must have really filled you—”

“Tsireya!” You laugh, giving her shoulder a light shove.

Tsireya’s grin morphs into a more serious expression. “See mother to make sure. Okay?”

Your smile also fades into something softer as you nod your head in agreement. “Okay.”

[lunasfics]

Ghost of You - Jason Todd

summary: In which Jason Todd does what he thinks is best, and you’re left to pick up the pieces he left behind.

pairings: Jason Todd x f!reader

warnings: mention of canon typical violence, angst, cursing

word count: 1k

a/n: i would like to apologize in advance for this one 😭😭 i was in an angst type of mood, i hope you like it!! - luna <3

reblogs are appreciated!!

You didn’t sleep most nights. 

Sometimes you felt the ghost of his fingers trailing lazy patterns on your arm the way he used to love to do. Sometimes you’d dream that you were in bed and he was there sleeping next to you. In those dreams you took the opportunity to watch him, memorizing every detail of his face. Every scar. The small movements of his nostrils as he breathed peacefully. You’d remember the feeling of his rough hands holding you so gently. Like he was terrified of breaking you. 

But then you’d wake up to the cold empty space beside you, nothing but unwashed linen sheets filling the space because you didn’t want to wash away the scent that remained. The scent of him. 

Sometimes, when you’d first wake up, still groggy from your slumber, you’d think Jason was in the kitchen fixing up your favorite breakfast. Like he always did on lazy mornings. Only he was never there. Not anymore.

It was stupid. It was so stupid. The way you still thought about him. The way he just gave up. The way he thought he had control over what was best for you. 

And you were heartbroken. But you were also angry. 

So, so angry. 

You’d told him. You’d told him over and over that being with him was your decision, that risking your safety was never even a question for you when it came to being with him. You knew you’d always turn out okay, as long as you had him by your side. 

Yet he never seemed to listen. 

It’s been two weeks. Two weeks of replaying that night over and over in your head. It was torture. 

“Jason-” 

“No. Do not even try to justify anything that just happened Y/n.” 

You paused. He never called you by your first name. Never.  You tried not to focus on it. “I’m not. But you need to know that it wasn’t your fault-” 

“Are you fucking kidding me? Of course it was my fault, do you honestly think Black Mask would just kidnap you for fun? Are you that naive to think that you were not put at risk today because your boyfriend is the fucking Red Hood?” He dragged a hand over his face, he was pacing. His hands were shaky. You could have died. It would have been his fault had he not arrived when he did. 

“I am not naive, Jason. I am a grown woman and I knew damn well what I signed up for when I fell in love with you. I’m not afraid of this. I’m not afraid of anything as long as I’m with you.” 

He laughed dryly, “Bravery and the power of love won't keep you alive, Y/n. I can’t lose you. I can’t be the reason you get hurt.” 

“You never have been and you never will be. Just– Please. I need you to understand that.” Your voice cracked, your eyes welling with tears, what he didn’t understand is it hurt you so, so much to see him in pain. You couldn’t lose him either. And he was constantly risking his life, you’d almost lost him far too many times. 

He turned away from you. He couldn’t see you cry right now. He needed the shred of strength he had left to protect you. For good. 

He turned to you, “I’ve been a selfish piece of shit my whole life. And I can’t– Fuck. I can’t keep putting how I feel first at the expense of your safety. You deserve a normal life. Not whatever the fuck I dragged you into.” 

“Jason. What the fuck are you saying right now.” You didn’t want to believe it. 

He didn’t look at you. He knew the moment he looked into your tear-filled eyes he’d take it back instantly. He’d apologize, bring you you to bed and hold you, peppering your face with sweet, gentle kisses. He’d drag you right back into the cycle he’d trapped you in.

You wished he would. 

“Jason.” 

“I’m leaving, Y/n. You need someone who can take care of you. Who can give you what you deserve. I have to let you go.” 

“Are you shitting me? I want you. No one else. This is not your decision to make.” 

He started walking towards the door. “I’m sorry.”  He refused to turn around, his eyes filling up with tears as he walked further towards the door, his hand on the doorknob. 

“I want you to know that right now, you, Jason Todd, are hurting me more than anyone else ever could.” 

There was a pause before he turned the doorknob, opening it and stepping out. “You’ll survive.” 

That was the last time you spoke to him. 

Over and over. The memory replayed in your mind. Every night you dreamed of him, you dreamed he never left, that he had put aside his own pride and just listened to you. That he had just let you be there for him. 

You had no idea where he was. You were constantly looking at your phone. Constantly. Waiting, hoping that you’d get a call from him, telling you he was sorry. That he wanted to come back to you. That you’d make it work.

But it never came. And deep down, you knew it wouldn’t. 

So every day you tormented yourself with dreams of him. Thoughts of him. Remembering the feeling of his arms snaking around your waist as you made your morning coffee. The feeling of him plopping his tired body onto yours after a long day, running your fingers through his hair as he laid his head on your chest. 

No thermal or weighted blanket provided the warmth and the security that he did. No pillow you hugged felt as comforting as hugging him did. No comedy you watched was as funny as when you watched it with him. No jacket you owned was as warm as the one he would drape over your shoulders while you were out together and it started to get cold. 

You lived with constant reminders that he was gone. Constant echoes of his previous presence. 

You could only hold on to the ghost of him that remained in your cold apartment. 

[jals-stuff]

just an assistant..?

Orter Madl x f!reader

Sure, being his assistant is great... but what if you could get more than that?

Warnings: nsfw! SMUT with female reader, flirty reader, kind of rough?, swearing, dom!orter, semi-public fornication, bossy orter.

MDNI please! Not cool :(

Note: again with no sleep. this has been stuck in my head all day. gods know I love this man. barely proofread, probably bad english (*apologises in french*).

Word count: 3k ish

hope you'll enjoy. (ps: to all of the orter simps who reblog my stuff, y'all hashtags are absolutely heartwarming and i tear up everytime. love you all xoxo <3)

Flirting was never your thing. 

You were a quite discrete young woman and your definition of a good way to flirt was to stare at the one you’re interested in, in hopes they would make the first move. But as years went on, you realised it probably wasn’t an efficient technique. Giving up on love forever had crossed your mind several times… or, well, that was until you met a certain workaholic man.

You had worked extra hard to earn a position as Orter’s assistant, and you were quite happy with it. Working around him was refreshing in a way that most of the things you had to do was bringing him coffee, delivering and bringing his paperwork (an impressive quantity of it, you would’ve never guessed the Bureau required so much of it) and reminding him of meetings and important appointments; simple tasks that didn’t require much effort.

Orter was never the kind of man to talk a lot about his feelings, or talk in general, but there was something you couldn’t quite pinpoint that gave him such an irresistible charisma. Was it his impeccable appearance on a daily basis, or maybe his flawless allure? Perhaps the authoritative voice and golden eyes were a part of it? It was hard to tell; but it was rather obvious that you liked him quite a lot.

This is when your personality shifted completely. You don’t get anything without trying, and you were definitely going to shoot your shot with him. How? …by flirting, of course! Sure, you were potentially awful at it, but he was rather dense when it came to this, so he probably wouldn’t know the difference.

However, most people would call it seduction rather than flirting, the way you bent over slightly more than necessary when picking something up, or how your hand brushed delicately against his own when you handed him documents, even the way you looked at him. Every single gesture was carefully calculated in order to make him see you as more than his assistant.

He was so hardworking and diligent, it was hard not to root for him. Besides, with the amount of effort he put into every single working day, the poor man was probably very stressed out, and quite honestly… the things you would do to him if only to allow him to… alleviate this stress was between you and the gods only. 

Today was a regular day and your shift had just started. You had brought him coffee, as usual, and were sitting in a corner of his office to arrange his meetings and appointments at reasonable hours and within convenient timings to try and make his life easier, but the schedule you had made for him required inspection, and so, you slowly stood up and graciously made your way to his chair, your hand softly reaching for his shoulder.

“Mr. Mádl,” you cooed, leaning a bit towards him, your voice just deep enough to hit these sultry notes. “Your schedule is complete, please do tell me if you see any… issues with it.” You trailed off, slowly brushing your hand off him. He gave it a quick glance, then looked up at you for a second, his expression unreadable, before reading the schedule you had handed him.

You leaned in a bit closer, your shoulder close to his now and your face too, your delicate fingers pointing out certain things that might still need approval on the other party or a few elements you’d change if he so desired. He simply gave a nod and handed it back to you, and you made sure that your soft hands would very faintly caress his own as you took the paper back. “Thank you, I’ll get your coffee now~” you purred with a slight chuckle, and at this point he was just feeling disoriented. 

“Don’t leave yet, I have questions.” His voice was, as per usual, unreadable; Orter always had this same flat tone and it was quite hard to discern his emotions. “You have been very… tactile, for a while now.” He crossed his arms softly and lowered his glasses a little bit, his eyes on you. “Care to explain?”

So he had noticed. What to do now? Should you come clean and confess that you’re intentionally flirting with him, or should you pretend you’re innocent and plead not guilty? The latter was probably safer if you wanted to keep your job, because openly flirting with your boss was a shitty idea from the start anyway, but you just couldn’t help it.

“Pray, tell, whatever are you talking about, Mr. Mádl?” You mused, your fingertips hiding your lips and this faint smile while your gentle eyes rested on his. “Is everything alright?” You faked concern, your eyes supposedly betraying a hint of worry, and he only gave a sigh and closed his eyes, sighing deeply.

“Miss (L/N), I may be dense, but I am no fool.” He started calmly, but anyone could’ve told he was running short on patience, and you were probably not going to help with this. “If you value your position at the Bureau, I would suggest you cooperate when I ask you a question.” Orter opened his eyes again, his doubtful gaze on your deceitful eyes.

“Oh, Mr. Mádl…” you sighed softly with a gentle smile as you took a few steps back towards his desk and softly put the schedule back on it, then slowly made your way to his chair, leaning forwards just enough so your cleavage was a tiny bit revealing. “Let a girl feel attractive, at least for herself~” you cooed again, and he seemed to lose patience even more.

You looked at his glasses on the tip of his nose, at his tie that was obviously too tight, at his shirt you would love to see on the floor, and at his hands, then his lips… before looking back into his eyes with sultry eyes and a gentle, polite smile. You couldn’t help but run your fingers against his forehead, brushing away his soft bangs, your hand then landing on his shoulder and softly caressing its way away from him.

“But I will admit…” You brought your fingertips to your lips again to conceal this faint, smug smile that was creeping up on your face now. “...I do enjoy being tactile around such a… handsome man.” A small giggle escaped your lips as you playfully stuck your tongue out to try and get a reaction out of him.

“You are infuriating, you know that?” He spat, his scolding glare on yours. You raised both eyebrows in surprise; seeing Orter speak his mind was very uncharacteristic and frankly enough, you didn’t expect him to feel this bothered with your behaviour. Were you going to stop teasing him though? Absolutely not. You gave a pout and pushed his glasses back into their spot and took a few steps back, making him angrier than he was before.

Your flirtatious personality was pissing him off more than anything else, but you couldn’t help it, he was just that irresistible. Even though you knew you would probably ruin your chances with him, deep inside, you knew he was just a man, and no matter how lawful he was, he would eventually give in. After all, he couldn’t resist his adorable assistant… right?

“Damn…” You trailed off, looking at him with a raised eyebrow and your arms crossed. “You look very sexy when you get angry.” Oh, the look he gave you was priceless. You could feel all the intensity of his golden eyes right into yours, and he stood up slowly, walking towards you. He stopped and looked down at your smug smile.

“You are insufferable— worse, even.” He sighed deeply, clenching his fists. “I’ll wipe that smirk off your face.” He grabbed you by the collar, his expression way more serious than you thought it would be. It wasn’t the playful argument you had hoped for; he was genuinely mad this time. It was quite a surprise to you, but his behaviour had finally changed and you could not let this opportunity slide.

“Do your worst, Mr. Sandman~!” You teased with a chuckle, and were only met with a low growl and a rough grab of your waist, pulling you closer to him, your face mere inches away from his. Your eyes travelled down to his lips and you were so, so tempted to kiss him right here, right now to taunt him more… and you did. A quick, gentle peck was all it took for him to run a hand over his desktop and throw all of his paperwork to the floor, pinning you down on your back against his desk.

“Oh I fucking will.”

Orter undid your waistcoat and ripped your buttons off, exposing your chest to his now hungry eyes. He grabbed you by the front of your bra and brought your chest closer to his, his hips pinning yours against the edge of his desk, and suddenly, you realised he was probably going to make you regret everything you’ve done so far. It started with him removing his belt with one hand and holding both of your cheeks with the other one.

He quickly wrapped his belt around your wrists and pinned you back down against the desk, his hand pressing against your belly just enough to keep you from squirming, and he slowly brought it up towards your bra, slipping a finger underneath it to tug a little bit on it. But that wasn’t nearly enough to quiet you down.

“Bit bold, aren’t we, Mr. Sandman?”

He didn’t reply, but instead decided to grab your bra with his fist, and you could feel the disaster happen as he ripped it completely, denying you of your only comfortable bra. A surprised yelp escaped your lips, and he finally started to look satisfied. “Bit shy, aren’t we, Miss assistant?” He asked with a chuckle, yet his face remained completely neutral.

You couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed as you didn’t expect him to actually expose you like this and forever ruin a piece of your clothing, but he didn’t stop here. He forcefully folded your arms behind your back, and if you weren’t so turned on by the situation, it would’ve probably hurt you a lot. Now that your hands were out of the way, he brought both hands to your breasts and started feeling them up, roughly pressing them into his calloused palms and fingers. 

Orter’s fingers tentatively rubbed against your hardened nipples, eliciting a quiet groan from you and a slight squirm of your hips, but he quickly held you in place with his own. “Stop squirming, you asked for it.” He grunted with another roll of his hips against your crotch, effectively silencing any protests you had, as they died with another lustful groan.

He could feel his pants becoming tighter and tighter from your sweet sweet voice, and obviously, his clothed boner rubbing underneath your skirt did not help; he could feel your moist panties through his clothing and it was driving him crazy.

“Someone’s enjoying a little discipline, mh?” He asked with a condescending tone, and you couldn’t do anything but nod quickly, your cheeks slightly flushed from how bold he had grown over the last few minutes. Everytime his erection pressed against your aching clit, it felt like you were getting wetter. Your cunt was clenching around nothing and you physically felt the need to have him inside of you.

Unfortunately, he seemed determined to tease you. His hand grabbed both of your cheeks again, making you look straight into his eyes as he leaned forwards and slipped his hand underneath your skirt, running his fingers against your damp panties, making you shiver in delight and sheer lust.

“A-ah, Orter—”

He pressed your cheeks harder in an urge to silence you again, not wanting to hear anything else than your needy groans and whimpers. He slipped his fingers inside your panties and straight-up pressed against your clit, looking into your eyes as you whined loudly, making him raise his eyebrows in a condescending fashion. “Oh~ is my little assistant enjoying her punishment?”

You nodded quickly again, making him bite his lip, his gaze shifting from condescending to lustful, and he couldn’t help but lean forwards, holding your face in place so he could look at you while you squirmed under his touch. He rubbed your sensitive clit harder and faster, listening to your whimpers as if they were a musical masterpiece, licking his lips in hunger at the feeling of your crotch getting wetter.

Orter’s eyes never left yours as he expertly stimulated you further, making your thighs and hips tremble, the feeling of this knot growing inside your stomach. As your trembling reached its peak and your moans got louder, he pulled his hand out of your panties and gave his finger a teasing lick, looking down on you with a mocking glare. 

“You didn’t think I’d let you off that easily, did you?”

It was frustrating, so frustrating, but at least you were about to get a real piece of him now. At least, that’s what you could make of it; you were panting and looking at the ceiling when you heard his pants’ zipper go down. He wasted no time and freed his cock from his boxers, immediately rubbing it inside your panties, collecting your juices.

The way his tip rubbed against your puffy clit again sent shocks down your spine and you couldn’t help but whine a bit louder in such a needy, pathetic way. You’d gotten so wet for him, and he was blissfully aware of that fact. He then pushed his tip slightly against your folds, but retracted it and, for the first time, smiled at you; a cruel, mocking smile.

“Beg.”

You couldn’t take it anymore and didn’t want to waste any more time, and so you did not hesitate. Your hips were already bucking into his unwillingly, your body practically physically aching at the lack of his dick.

“Please, please Orter. I’ve been really bad.. Please fuck me into discipline, pl—”

Your sentence did not entirely go through as he pushed forward, effectively filling you up with his large member, making you shakily whimper from the pleasure, as he grabbed both of your hips and started rutting into you like a madman. You couldn’t help but wonder if your coworkers (or anyone walking through the corridor at this very moment) would hear your pitiful cries of pleasure, and it seems he thought the same.

“That’s it, good girl. Let them know how you deserve to be treated.”

Not because he told you so though, but his words made you painfully tighten around his cock, crying out loud in sheer bliss from his rough thrusts and the way your body jolted up everytime he pushed forwards. Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes and you couldn’t even see him properly anymore.

Seeing you cry from the pleasure awakened something in him and he decided to make it even worse for you. One of his hands left your hips and moved to your crotch, his thumb teasingly rubbing your clit with the tip of his nail, making your legs tense up and close around his hips as they immediately raised up and he had to push you back down with the hand that was holding you back as you quite literally wailed from the stimulation.

You were sweaty, flushed, shaking in pleasure and it was clear the paperwork that was under your hips was ruined forever, but he didn’t seem bothered by it. Instead, he pressed his thumb more firmly against your needy clit and rubbed it more and more, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Your trembling cunt was clenching around his cock as he plummeted forwards with each movement of his hips, only to see you drool and cry more from his ministrations. He could feel himself get close as well, and decided that you’d be the first to go! What a gentleman.  And so, his thrusts grew in speed and force, and his thumb was practically crushing your clit, forcing loud shaky moans and whines out of your mouth. 

“Orter, ‘m… so close—”

He raised an eyebrow and his lips curved into a smirk as he eyed the way your breasts were bouncing with every slam of his hips into yours. He was also quite sweaty now and his clothes were sticking to his skin uncomfortably, but he needed this release more than anything else.

He kept on drilling into your needy pussy until you started shaking harder, convulsing almost, and your legs closed harshly around his hips, but he didn’t stop rubbing your clit nor thrusting, he only pushed you back down with his other hand as he hungrily grunted in pleasure. “C’mon… come for me, be a good, obedient girl…”

And you couldn’t hold it in anymore; you came and covered his desktop, pants, and carpet in your sweet juices, convulsing from the overstimulation he was giving you as his fingers never stopped rubbing you and he fucked you through your orgasm. It took every fibre of his being not to fill you up immediately as you tightened hard against his cock, and as soon as you were done, he gave one last thrust, holding himself nested deep inside of you, and grunted loudly as he gave you your reward on the spot.

You were softly trembling from the overstimulation, your face covered in sweat, drool and tears, as you found it quite difficult to catch your breath afterwards. He finally retrieved his belt and put his pants back on correctly, adjusting his glasses one more time before walking towards his closet to grab a large coat, and he tossed it at you.

He sighed, then sat back on his chair, crossing his legs, studying your fucked out expression, visibly pleased to see you flustered and blushing from the steamy interaction.  “Go and get me my coffee, miss assistant. And get one for yourself, too. I believe we have important matters to discuss today…”

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: Daddy!Dom!Johnny x sub!fem!Reader x sub!Taeyong

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Poly ilichil. Fingering. Unprotected vaginal sex. Morning sex. Praise kink. Degradation kink. Getting caught by Taeyong. Cock warming themes. Exhibitionism themes. Creampie. Fem!oral. Hands free male orgasm. MLM behavior.

| wc: 2.9k

aurora's note: prompted by this anon! <3 this ended up being WAY longer than intended lmao

Johnny was the first to wake up, his hands wandering around your body, pulling you closer to him so that your back was flush with his chest. You guys promised that you were going to fall asleep early last night. You’d been out late walking around the city while talking and enjoying each other’s company before he would have to leave for tour within the next few weeks, but he said that it was important to get to bed early and wake up early in order to do some work. He was his own worst enemy in that case. Every time you offered to walk back home, he kept going along the path you guys were on. When you did make it home, you tried to climb into bed almost immediately, but Johnny insisted on talking for another few hours while cuddling with you. So when it got too late to consider the idea of falling asleep early, Johnny promised that you two would get to sleep in at least. He also lied about that.

His wandering hands were enough to gently coo you awake. With a quiet, tired groan, you rolled your hips and opened your eyes, hoping that was enough to get Johnny to release you, but it had the opposite effect. Upon squirming in his grip, you felt Johnny’s morning wood pressing against your ass.

“You can’t be for real,” you grumbled into the pillows.

“Sorry, baby, you just look too cute…” His breath was hot on your ear while he grinded his erection into your body. “Can I?”

“What happened to needing to get to work early today?”

“Work can wait.”

Honestly, you didn’t need much more convincing than that. Ever since Johnny told you about tour, the two of you were fucking like a pair of rabbits, constantly touching each other, begging for each other no matter the situation. Even in public sometimes he would shoot you a look and then you’d end up bent over a bathroom sink with his cock pistoning in and out of you at a rough pace. So you obliged him, slowly hitching up your left leg in order to provide more space for Johnny to push the fabric of your shorts covering your pussy to the side, his index finger massaging your clit gently so that he could first get you as worked up as he was. It worked. You were exhausted, yes, but you could bear the thought of being his pillow princess for the morning, allowing him to use you however he wanted… so long as you didn’t have to roll over or move a single bit. If he wanted to get his dick wet so early in the morning, he needed to do the heavy lifting.

“Good girl,” he whispered in your ear. “Keep quiet for me, okay? Don’t want to wake the boys.”

You nodded vaguely just before he pressed his middle finger into you, all the way down to the bottom knuckle as a test to see if you were wet enough for him yet. You weren’t. But that wasn’t anything Johnny couldn’t remedy. His finger continued to slowly work its way in and out of your hole, his wrist twisting slightly so that he could roll his thumb over your clit.

“Such a good girl for me, baby.”

You mewled when he curled his finger into your sweet spot. “J…”

“I know, I know, just let me have my fun first.”

Johnny knew how to get your riled up. The praise in your ear, his lips drifting over your skin tantalizingly slow, his fingers pleasuring you so well that you had no choice than to hide your face in the pillows so that you could stay quiet like he said. The boys had a terrible habit of walking into rooms unannounced. It didn’t matter if they knew you were playing with one of them, or if they knew that the boys were playing with each other, they would walk in without a second thought, interrupting anything and everything just for fun, or due to their obliviousness. If you showed any signs of being awake, someone would likely come to bother you and Johnny.

“You ready for me, darling?”

“Stop teasing me,” you grumbled, fisting the sheets tightly.

“But it’s so fun.”

Despite the entertainment you were providing him, Johnny was just as eager to fuck you, so he finally gave you some reprive by pulling his finger out of you and using the wetness that came along with it to slicken up his hard cock as he fished it out of his pajama pants. Johnny then held your left leg steady while it was curled up towards your torso, and with a deep breath and a grunt, Johnny’s tip found your slick entrance almost immediately.

“Remember to be quiet, yeah?”

You nodded again— But right when you thought you were prepared, Johnny purposefully shoved his entire length into you with one smooth motion of his hips. You woke up completely. The moan you let out wasn’t into the pillows like it should have been, and you certainly weren’t quiet.

Johnny chuckled in your ear. “Sorry, princess, must’ve gotten ahead of myself.”

“F-fuck… Fuck…”

He thrusted in and out of you slowly about three times before stopping. “You’re too tight, baby, relax.”

It wasn’t for the lack of trying or anything! He was being a dick on purpose in order to wake up the whole house to the sound of you two fucking, and it only occurred to you after he started fucking you so deeply.

After Johnny released your leg so that you could loosen up, he continued fucking you. His hands moved to your hips to keep you steady. The pace was just fast enough to squeak the bed frame, but not so fast that either of you would get close to the edge just yet. It felt good to be filled by him, despite how sudden it had been and how tired you were, and you felt satisfied knowing that you’d get off and stay in bed all day while Johnny and the other boys had to go to work.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he complimented with a smug chuckle. “So fucking pretty. And my perfect girl who spreads her legs for me whenever I ask nicely.” He swiveled his hips to hit another sensitive spot. “Just like that—” He bit down on your shoulder. “Such a good girl for me.”

The sound of footsteps echoing throughout the second floor hallway caught your attention suddenly. It wasn’t your fault. Johnny was being loud with all his dirty talk in your ear, of course someone was curious about the creaking bed and the whispering coming from his bedroom. You hoped that he would’ve heard it too and stopped for just a moment in order to trick whoever it was wandering around that nothing was going on, that you two were still sleeping so they shouldn’t have tried opening the door. But no. Johnny continued to fuck you at a brutal pace, completely distracted by the tight grip of your walls around his length to think twice about the approaching footsteps.

“J, someone’s coming,” you warned him frantically.

“Pretend you’re asleep.”

“What!”

“Close your eyes.”

And right then, the door flew open and you squeezed your eyes shut. You prayed the reality of what was going on in the bed would go unnoticed by the intruder. You hoped that Johnny’s stupid act would actually work and you’d successfully not get teased for the rest of the day by the other boys.

“Johnny-hyung, do you want to get coffee before we—” Taeyong stopped in his tracks. “Oh,” he whispered nervously, realizing that he’d been too loud. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Johnny reassured him with a whisper. He was trying to keep up the appearance that you were asleep, but it was just downright corny to you. “You wanna get coffee before work?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure.” He slowly thrusted into you again, catching you off guard, nearly making you moan again. “Just give me a few minutes to finish fucking her.”

And then there was silence. What did he say? Did he actually… What was the point in making you stay quiet and pretend to be sleeping if he was just going to announce it like that? You kicked his ankles under the sheets. In retaliation, Johnny grabbed your hips and began fucking into you with short yet rough thrusts which took your breath away, forcing your eyes open while you grabbed onto his arm in a desperate attempt to escape him, but he was far too strong, and he was having a blast fucking you in front of Taeyong who was still standing in the doorway, speechless. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before. Hell, he’d participated before. The shock of knowing that Johnny had been lodged inside of you throughout their entire conversation meanwhile you were pretending to be asleep was so different from anything else Taeyong had accidentally walked in on before.

When he tried to back out to give you some privacy, Johnny told him, “Don’t stop watching.” Taeyong stayed. He bit his lip and trembled slightly while he watched Johnny rail you in bed, moans dripping from your tongue consistently, pleas for Johnny to slow down going ignored.

“Gonna cum inside of you,” he whispered only loud enough for you to hear, “then I’m gonna make him clean up my mess before we leave.”

You shivered at the thought. Your core tightened, a sudden urge to approach your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. Johnny hissed in response to your walls tightening around him.

“He’s hard for you, baby, look at him.”

Your gaze readjusted onto Taeyong once more to find him palming himself over his pants “inconspicuously” in the hopes that Johnny wouldn’t tell him to stop, which thankfully he didn’t, but he wasn’t allowed to fully touch himself either.

“Gonna fill you up… Fuck…” He kissed the sensitive spot just behind your ear while he picked up his pace.

His hand reached around your body to squeeze between your thighs so that his index and middle fingers could return to flicking your clit quickly. You threw your head back against his shoulder. There really wasn’t any point in trying to be quiet anymore. You’d been caught, the boys were likely to find out on their own even if Johnny didn’t immediately go to brag to them about it. So you let it all go. You moaned Johnny’s name loudly, clinging to him in the hopes that he’d fuck his cock deeper into you while he chased your orgasm and sent you spiraling into one of your own.

“Please, daddy, may I cum?”

“Dirty girl, princess. Cumming on my cock while our Taeyongie watches. You want him to eat you out that badly, baby? Overstimulating your swollen clit, fucking my cum back into you with his tongue…”

“Please, please, please—”

“Hold it.”

You gasped and hunched forward in his grasp, trying to get his fingers away from your clit because they were the main contributing factor to the orgasm in your stomach that you really, truly couldn’t hold back despite Johnny’s demands.

When Johnny’s thrusts became more sporadic and his fingers struggled to find a rhythm, you realized that he was close, too. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, fuck, fuck, fuck—” And with another few deep thrusts, Johnny came inside of you. “Cum, baby.”

You immediately let go with a satisfied moan while your legs tensed up and your whole body spasmed through a strong orgasm.

Johnny panted as he caught his breath. “Good girl…” And while he was still twitching inside of you, he grabbed a handful of your ass a bit possessively. When he was done, Johnny slowly pulled out of you, then he flipped the covers off your bodies, revealing how lazy the two of you really were by not even going through the trouble of removing your clothes before fucking so early in the morning. “Taeyongie,” he called out endearingly.

You rolled onto your back, also trying to catch your breath.

“Come here.”

Taeyong’s eyes flicked between you and Johnny, wondering if it was safe to approach or if he should have made a run for it. If he tried that, one of the Doms in the house would’ve gotten their hands on him regardless. So Taeyong stopped touching himself before warily approaching the bed. You spotted Johnny combing his long hair out of his face while sitting up, grinning at Taeyong who kneeled on the mattress.

“Clean her up for me while I get ready for work.”

Taeyong eyed you. “Can I—”

“No,” Johnny replied quickly. He wanted you clean, he didn’t want Taeyong to get off. If he was going to interrupt your morning, then he would get to suffer without an orgasm. “I'll be back.” Then oh-so-casually Johnny slid out of bed and strolled into the adjourning bathroom.

Taeyong got to work before you could brace yourself. What was it with the boys and wanting to surprise you all morning? He put his hands on both sides of your waist before pulling you towards him so that your head was no longer resting on the pillows and you couldn't escape to cover yourself with the sheets. Taeyong licked his fingers. The shower in the bathroom started running.

He regained your attention by collecting Johnny’s cum on the inside of your thighs on the tips of his fingers, then he pushed three of his fingers into you. Your back arched off the bed, hands immediately finding Taeyong’s long dyed hair, tugging on the strands to urge him forward so that his tongue could start lapping up the mixture of juices between your legs. He moaned at the taste. Your wetness, Johnny’s cum, your cum… It was all being cleaned up by Taeyong’s tongue laying flat against your skin, drifting inwards towards your entrance where his fingers were still forcing Johnny’s cum back into you. When everything was cleaned from your thighs, Taeyong began kitten licking your clit.

“Yongie—”

He groaned happily in response to the nickname and the tug in his hair.

“Too… Too sensitive… Fuck…”

But he was given a task that he couldn’t disobey, and he wanted to do such a good job, not just for Johnny but for you too. He loved the way you shook against him. Your legs closing in around his head, your fingers desperately playing with his hair, hips bucking around in a very desperate attempt to escape his overstimulating actions. That only encouraged him further. The light licks against your clit and the soft pushing of his fingers into your pussy alternated into his lips wrapping around the sensitive bud and sucking harshly on it while curling his fingers deep inside of you.

“Please,” you begged helplessly.

The shower shut off.

Taeyong’s efforts doubled in speed, hurtling you towards another orgasm. No, no, no, Johnny didn’t say anything about that— He wouldn’t be happy if he found you cumming on Taeyong’s tongue and fingers. But nothing deterred Taeyong. You watched him with pleading eyes as he focused on you while grinding his hips into the mattress, probably trying to get some kind of friction to alleviate his unbearable erection.

“Taeyong—”

“You better not be cumming.”

The tone of voice coming from the bathroom doorway halted his actions immediately and pulled away with a devastated moan that had you second guessing if Johnny was speaking to you or…

Taeyong’s face was so red.

You propped yourself up on your elbows to better gauge the situation. In front of you, Taeyong was adjusting his pants uncomfortably, his eyes crossed, and gentle moans falling from his lips. As your gaze dropped, you saw a wet spot forming in Taeyong’s pants. No… It wasn’t possible? Was it?

Johnny walked forward, a towel hanging low on his hips while his wet hair dripped water down his back and onto the wood floors. He tsked his tongue, disappointed. “Did I ruin your orgasm?”

Taeyong nodded silently.

You’d never seen Taeyong cum hands free before— Hell, no one had even mentioned it before, you didn’t know it was something he was capable of. Telling by the look on his face, he didn’t know either.

Johnny cupped his hand under Taeyong’s chin, forcing him to look up with shame and embarrassment radiating off of him. “Give me a taste.” He said it like it was an offer rather than a demand before he began kissing Taeyong passionately, swallowing all of Taeyong’s desperate moans and reveling in the way Taeyong kissed him harder and more passionately in the hopes of getting more relief following his ruined orgasm; However, Johnny pulled away with a grin, leaving Taeyong untouched. “You should go change. I’ll be ready in fifteen.”

You and Taeyong shared a quick glance, both of you disappointed in the fact that Johnny was purposefully ending your playful morning with Taeyong’s ruined orgasm and your edge, Johnny’s cum still seeping out of you. Reluctantly, Taeyong stood. His erection was still prominent in his pants, poor thing. You wanted to take pity on him and help him out, but Johnny was keeping a close eye on the two of you, making sure Taeyong left without stealing another taste of you or getting himself off. John smiled at you. You slumped back down on the bed, limbs sprawled out of exhaustion.

“Meanie,” you croaked.

Johnny chuckled while walking back into the bathroom. He was clearly enjoying the idea of having something new to tease Taeyong with.

[pleaktale]

aahh hello! i hope you're well ^^

ive been having a bit of a rough time personally, if you're comfortable with it could you write ekko (or hobie honestly i love them both) just. comforting a reader having issues with self worth/abandonment problems?

if not that's totally okay :0

I love this request so much AHHH!! Thank you anon, I hope this can bring some comfort to you, made it real sweet just in case <3 (chose Ekko because I was so excited to write something about him!!) Word count: 1.1k Warnings: Reader has low self steem, fear of abandonment, questionings Tags: Ekko x best friend!gn!Reader, hurt/comfort, Ekko being the best leader ever, fluff, tw self worth issues, tw death talks?, mention of Y/N once, Reader is described as shorter than Ekko, Reader and Ekko are adults in the Firelights Enjoy ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

Cleaning at the Firelights base was usually your thing, let it be dusting off the shelves of the small library, or organizing once again the plants around the area with the kids, you never really went out for the battles. You couldn’t for a couple of reasons, the number one being Ekko’s protective self scared of anything happening to you.

So you accepted your obligations at the place you now call home. It wasn’t bad, you always chatted with others, helped out with the food, took care of the children when needed, it was pretty much a peaceful life despite the moments you had to help out mending your people from the battles.

But something still gnawed at your soul. A feeling you tried to keep to yourself because it wasn’t really worth discussing it with others, they had bigger problems, right?

That may be true in a certain point of view, but Ekko could see right through you. Being friends for so long can give you that kind of power over the other. So his eyes kept glancing at you while you dusted off the new books he brought from the last patrol, noticing the tension on your shoulders.

“You’re not talkin’ today,” Ekko pointed out, taking a subtle glance at you before turning the page of the book he took to flip out. His voice echoing in the quiet place did have you opening your eyes a little more, pulling you out the train of thoughts you were currently drowning into.

“I thought you were reading,” you reply back, placing the book back on the shelf and turning to face him, his expression of “spill it” making your shoulders slump. “What now? Can’t have a quieter day any more?”

Ekko chuckles, watching you go back to your task, “Not when I’m here.” His boots clank into the hardwood floor as he walks towards you, taking the book from your hands and placing it at the higher shelf which you rolled your eyes at.

“You can’t keep doing this just because I’m the only other adult you’re taller than,” you huff out, which he smirks at before glancing back down at you, hands by his sides but gingerly making their way to yours. “Yes, I can. Now come on, I know the quiet you.”

You sigh, looking down at the book in your hands, a copy of a fairy tale. “It’s just…” your eyes try to avoid his, but a single glance and your courage is out of your lungs. “Sorry, I– I shouldn’t bother you with dumb things.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Ekko called out, pulling you back by the arm gently as you tried to sneak away from him, his caring eyes over you, “who said anything 'bout it being dumb? I asked you, not the other way around.”

You stare at him, big eyes trying to make sense of what he’s saying. Yes, it did make sense, but how can you change your mind in such a short time after thinking like this your whole life?

“Am I enough here, Ekko?” you ask quietly, eyes fluttering down, away from him. The question fell out of your lips like a fishbone being ripped out from your throat, but his warm hands in your arms brought you back to reality.

“You are more than enough, Y/N,” his fingers slid down until they reached your hand, intertwining with your fingers. “Why do you ask that?” he breathed out the question, not really understanding where did you come from with it, you were one of his foundations, being by his side since childhood. Even after everything that happened to your lives.

“It’s just that-” you stop yourself, gathering your thoughts before you become a rambling mess of unresolved feelings. You breathe in, and let it out, just like Ekko taught you before. “I’m just here, you know? Dusting off shelves, tending crops, looking out for the kids and so on… You do so much out there, risking your life, providing for us, what if one day you just-” you take your breath once again, fingers tightening around his. “What I do… Is this really enough?”

Ekko stares at you with wide eyes. How could you not see all that you do like he does?

“You could be at your house, reading books and baking cakes,” he starts, eyes softening as he gives a squeeze back to your hand, “it’d still be more than enough, alright?” You look back up at him, eyes glossy with the tears prickling the corner of your eyes, Ekko was quick to wipe them with his thumb. The act pulls out a small smile from you.

“And there’s not gonna be ‘one day that I just-’, understand?” he continues, your heart clenching inside your ribcage at the mere thought of it happening. Ekko pulls you in, hugging your form, a hand gliding through your hair. “Either it be me leaving, me dying, me turning into a purple rat,” you laugh into his chest at the thought of him as a rat, which he smiled proudly of his accomplishment.

“You’re enough,” he says and you hold in your tears, hugging him tighter, “and I’m not going anywhere.”

You take a shaky breath in, untangling yourself from his arms just enough to see his face, his hands already on the works to get the tear stains out of your face. His mocking pout makes you chortle, “Thank you,” you say it in a small voice, leaning into his palm.

Ekko gives you a quick kiss to the forehead, looking back at you. “I’m just bringin’ you back to reality, what you do here is fundamental for all of us. If you don’t tend the crops, if you don’t look out for the kids, me and the others wouldn’t be able to be patrolling while worrying about those things. You are fundamental.”

More tears stream down your face, but they’re quite happy now, his words bringing comfort to your worrying heart. “If you keep this up I’ll cry until night time and no one’s gonna get dinner,” you joke, a cracking chuckle leaving your lips which Ekko found endearing.

“Okay, enough of emotional words, I want your food,” he jokes back, wiping the remnants of your tears from your face. “But you understand, yeah? We’re on the same page here,” Ekko asks, leaning his forehead to yours and staring at your eyes with raised eyebrows, making you laugh at the view.

“I do.” Ekko makes a small commemoration with one hand, whispering ‘yessss’ to himself. You lean back laughing, thankful for having him in your life.

Maybe Ekko was right. There’s no such thing as not being enough. You are enough for something or someone, maybe even fundamental, you just can’t know sometimes. So you shove Ekko’s words into the depths of your mind, making roots out of it. Taking his hand in yours, you both head to the farm to grab things for dinner.

Maybe that’s enough of a life, too.

your honor I love him (•ᴖ•｡) hope you liked it, until next time <3

© pleaktale

divider credits goes to @/cafekitsune

[luveline]

hi jadeee!!! :D i read the fic abt poly!marauders with depressed reader and i was wondering if you could do one with aaron? for example r having trouble getting out of bed or doing small tasks and her mental health getting bad again, i don’t know if its just me but i rarely find these kind of fics <3

hi gorgeous i hope this is ok! fem, 1k

“How are you feeling?” Aaron asks, patting his face dry with a towel. 

You rub sleep from your eyes, catching Aaron's eyes in the mirror over his broad shoulders. You offer him a tired sort of smile.

“Come here,” he says. 

You do as he says. Aaron's getting dressed for work, and it's miraculous to have you up and out of bed before him considering how depressed you've been lately. Your abdomen presses to his.

“What are you going to do today?” he asks, wetting a washcloth in the sink. He feels the temperature of the water for a few seconds. 

“Um…” You close your eyes in preparation. “I have to shower. And I want to… make you dinner. So I'll do that.” He brings the washcloth to your face and rubs at your skin gently, little rivers of warm water creeping down your face and neck. “Is my appointment today?” 

“No, sweetheart. It's not until Tuesday.” He cleans your nose, your sleep-crusted lashes. “Why not have a bath? That way you can sit. You could bring your laptop in here and watch a movie.” 

“That…” You run out of steam as he wipes the last stretch of your cheek gently. 

If you can't manage a shower today, Aaron will help when he comes home. He never makes it seem like an obstacle or an imposition to help you through these things, treating it like any other hour of time spent together. “Dinner would be nice. But make sure you set the timer if you use the oven. I'll worry.” 

“Yeah.” 

He passes you your toothbrush and toothpaste. You squeeze it out onto the bristles as he sets about neatening your hair for the day, fingertips gentle on the soft skin of your hairline. You force the toothbrush into your mouth and start out slowly. You feel a disconnect between you and your actions, his touch the only tether, and every brush takes effort you don't have. 

“I didn't say good morning,” he says apologetically, rubbing your shoulders with some loving roughness. “How did you sleep?” 

Sleep is a big blob you don't have words for. “Good morning,” you say through toothpaste, leaning your face into his arm. 

He kisses whatever bit of your face he can reach. “Good morning.” 

“Sorry if I'm dirty.” 

“You aren't honey, you're fine. We just need to keep on top of it.” 

He pulls away to let you finish your half job, offering you a floss pick that you take on automatic but can't force yourself to use. It stays in your hand all the way to the breakfast table, where you get served sliced fruits and toast with chocolate spread. It's the kind with lots of calories, to keep you going if you can't manage your own lunch. Aaron makes you lunch most of the time if you can't do it yourself and leaves it in a tupperware in the fridge, but actually getting up to reheat it is another thing. You usually do it if your stomach aches but not otherwise. Already, you're wanting to go back to bed. Another day of letting him down. 

He gives you your medication divider, sipping at his own mug of coffee. “Jack's coming back tonight. Are you excited?” 

“So excited,” you say honestly. “Did he have a good time at, uh, Mason's?” 

“I think so. They went to Pizza Hut buffet. He said we have to go for his birthday.” He smiles at you from over the lip of his mug, eyes all manner of tender. “He asked if you're still sleeping.” 

“Don't let him worry about me,” you say, half-pleading. 

“No, I won't. You know I won't. He's just noticed you're not feeling your best, but it's not a bad thing. He wants to tuck you in.” 

“He said that?” 

Aaron nods with a smile. “He misses you when he doesn't see you.” 

“I miss him… I'm sorry. About all of this. I really…” You look down at your hands. Toast crumbs cling to your fingers, little white ants that catch hold when you attempt to shake them off. You wipe them in your pants. “I promise I'm trying.” 

He rounds the table. Takes your face into his hand, but doesn't force your head up. “That's not in question,” he says in his dulcet tone. “We want you to feel as good as you can. It doesn't matter how long it takes.” 

“I just want to be better.” I just want this feeling to be over. 

He hums into himself, his big hand a warm, steady thing where it covers your cheek. He's so solid. 

“Listen,” he says, bending to meet your eye. “Today, I only want you to do three things. Do you think you can do that? If you can't, I won't be mad, but I want you to try.” 

“Okay.” 

“Firstly, what you said about dinner? That sounds nice. Being active is good for you.” He measures your reaction. You've schooled your features into a determined seriousness that makes him smile. “Alright. Secondly, you take that nice long bath.” 

Your seriousness falters. “Sorry.” 

“No, no, don't be. It's not like that, sweetheart, I just want you to stay healthy, and to feel good about yourself. That's why I need you to eat lunch too.” 

“Is that the third thing?” 

“No, the third thing is to give me a kiss because I'm about to be late for work.” 

You tip your head up and he kisses you sweetly as always. You let him fawn and fret for a few minutes before he really has to leave, and then it's your fault he's late, calling him back in for a last hug. To be fair to you, it's a hug you really, really need. 

“Call me if you need to,” he says, his cheek against your temple. “I'll come home. I promise.” 

[wonysugar]

can u make a sunoo fic?

missed you | kim sunoo

synopsis : kim sunoo, your favorite stripper from the hybe boys establishment, started missing you after a while of you not showing up, so he had a lot of things to show you when you did come see him.<3

pairing : stripper!sunoo x rich!femreader

genre : smut :]

tags : sunoo is a male stripper, ricky from zb1 mentionned, jake from enha mentionned, reader is rich but it’s like not really relevant to the story, fingering (male receiving), biiiggg mommy kink, sub!sunoo, dom!femreader

warnings : none he’s just horny

word count : 1.5k

work was rough.

sure, going to work in itself wasn’t super difficult, but it was mostly the people working with you that made it unbearable. i mean, for god’s sake, you were a superior to the most of them, the least they could do was actually listen to you, and obey you when you gave orders.

which, they didn’t.

so naturally, you felt like going somewhere special, somewhere people knew their place and didn’t talk back to you during every second of the day.

immediately upon finishing your shift, your mind wandered to one place and one place only.

hybe boys.

-

you stepped foot into the establishment and was greeted by the comforting and familiar ambience, the music and lighting welcoming you with open arms.. you particularly noticed the usual customer seemingly going absolutely crazy over three of today’s boys, hoshi and jake. the third guy, whose name was apparently ricky has probably been staying for a short amount of time, due to him not being a employee you recognize, but it’s not like he was completely new either, since he clearly knew what he was doing. it takes someone with experience to grind on a pole like that with such a lustful expression. anywho, the said girl was having the time of her life and pushing everyone out of her way and honestly? who could blame her?

as cute as the boys were, though, you came for someone else. someone who caught your oh-so-precious attention since day one. to you. this whole strip club was like a restaurant, while he was both the main course and the dessert.

you spot him, kim sunoo, sitting down at the bar, probably on his break, talking to some seemingly older man as he’s being his very touchy self as usual. that quickly ceases once he sees you approaching him, immediately ignoring the other guy with a big cute grin on his face, as he clearly just saw that man as an opportunity to get more cute hand bags. that idea was quickly killed off by seeing you though. you always knew you were his favorite.

“y/nnnn, where have you been? it’s been soo long!” he says, clinging onto your arm and pulling himself in closer to you. you, in response pat the back of his head, returning the affection in your own way.

“work, baby. i’ve been super busy lately.. i barely have any time to see you anymore.”

he pouts, making your heart skip a beat. he always knew how to act adorable for you. “i missed you.. you could have told me, you do have my number, after all.”

you hum, wrapping your arm around his fairly skinny clothed waist, admiring his look for the night. you particularly noticed that he wore a piece of almost see-through lingerie that you bought him a few months back, probably walking around with it fully aware of how well it suits him and the impact it has on people.

despite how good it looked, though, you still felt the very intense urge to rip it off of him right at that moment. you knew you couldn’t though, not right now, at least.

“how much did you miss me, babyboy?” you whisper into his ear, careful not to let anyone near hear it. because yes, as hot as it probably looked, his regulars were pretty crazy about him, and his whole paycheck depended on them, so he kind of does need to act like he belongs to them. but really, you both knew that he belonged to you, and exclusively you.

“mmh, so much, mommy. i kept checking around the club every shift to see if you were here, but you never wereee.” he was already turning a little red, and his voice was getting higher and whinier with each word. the temptation to just cup his cute ass right then and there was strong, but you managed to contain it.

“you’re on break for another 30 minutes, right?” you asked, still whispering into his ear, his skin tingling in response to the warm breath it felt. he could only nod, poor baby was probably already so needy for you.

as to not waste any more time, you took his wrist and took him upstairs, where there were private rooms for “VIP lap dances”. now, let’s be realistic, as a regular, you knew that nobody ever used those rooms to get a personal show. while yes, this was technically a strip club, but it was also considered to basically be a brothel, too. not every employee here is comfortable to fuck clients, but most are. sunoo is one of the uncomfy ones when it comes to sex, but he seems to be way more than perfectly fine with it when it’s with you.

as soon as he closes and locks the door behind him, you take his lips in yours, immediately entering your tongue into his mouth, roaming the insides of it. cute whimpers coming out of him, you could clearly feel his hard-on as he lightly humped your clothed thigh, trying to make how horny he was not too obvious. he was failing miserably though, and viewing that sight made you chuckle involuntarily, voice low.

“so needy for me already, hm?” you teased.

“please fuck me mommy it’s been so long.. not even jerking off works anymore.. i - mmh oh my god - thinking about you while i jack myself off isn’t enough, i need your hands on me pleaseee.” he’s desperately whining and begging, being so good for you like this, you would just hate yourself if you couldn’t give him what he wanted. if you had known, you’d bring your strap-on if you were planning on staying for a long time, but.. fingers will do for tonight.

“then, sit on that chair for me, sunoo.” upon hearing his name, he immediately did as told, and even spread his legs so you could get better access. “so obedient for mommy, aren’t you? good boy.” you knew how desperate he’d act for praise, so he pouted and nodded eagerly, in hopes of making you understand that his dick was probably aching by now. he needed to feel your touch.

it didn’t take long before his cute cock was sticking out of his tight set, throbbing at the feeling of your thumb gently grazing its tip, teasing and feeling all of the precum leak from it. sunoo was a whining mess by this point, and he made it very well known that he wanted more, according to the bucking movements of his hips. his moans slowly becoming fuel for you, you progressively went faster, making sure to thoroughly stroke every inch of his adorable twitching dick. he was throbbing at each swift motion you made, his body shaking, already threatening to shoot his load all onto your hand.

not even 5 minutes went by before he started begging and calling out to you, mommys loudly spilling out of his mouth before a big amount of warm, white and thick liquid spurts out of his tip, most of it landing on your fingers and palm, the rest on the chair he’s sitting on. you loved the look he had on his face, everything about it drove you absolutely crazy. he was already far from being innocent, but you just wanted to corrupt him even further.

if you weren’t in a hurry, you would’ve started riding him a long time ago, taking all of his length and watching him squirm under you like he always did, moaning like a bitch at the feeling of his dick inside your tight pussy.

“f-fuck i missed you s-so mu-“

before he could even finish that sentence, you quickly grabbed him from the waist and turned him around on the soft chair, earning a small yelp as his soft ass was now facing you. you couldn’t bother to tease him, not when he was being this good for you. so, like anyone in this situation would, you spat on your fingers and gently rubbed them on his entrance, hearing how his whimpers and whines get higher.

“m-mommy, i just c-came - god - please..” he begged despite unconsciously arching his back so you could get better access. you chuckled at his poor attempt of not seeming like a desperate little puppy for you, he was so unintentionally adorable.. you just couldn’t wait to rim his ass roughly like he oh-so deserved.

inserting two fingers into his hole, his immediate response was to gasp and push himself deeper onto your digits, whining and sobbing at the pressure that was being applied.

pleads and begs for you to go faster escape his open mouth, “pleasepleaseplease”, “y/nnn” and “fuckk..” were the only things that could come out of his mouth, his drool slightly drooping out, just looking like a total slut from getting gently fucked by your fingers. if you knew he got like this desperate when overstimulated, you would’ve done it a lot more often.

“it f-feels so g-g-oodd momm-myy..” he moaned out shamelessly moments after, not giving a single fuck about somebody, anybody walking past and potentially hearing. his legs shaking uncontrollably at your digits. “didn’t you miss this, sunoo? didn’t you miss being fucked this good by mommy?”

poor baby could only nod his head, trying and barely succeeding in keeping his teary eyes open. he looked a mess, his cheeks all flushed, his messy and wet covering his sweat-coated forehead– fuck he looked so pretty. you were ravished by undoing him like this.

despite your inability to express it with words,

you missed him too, and that night,

you made sure to showcase it for hours to come.

[da-rulah]

Confessional - Cardinal Copia x F!Reader [Part 3]

Summary: At the request of Papa Emeritus III, you return to your duties around the Ministry, but when he reminds you of your absence from confessional in the past month, he asks you to return to where it all started...

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 12k (lol wtf sorry guys this one ran away from me...)

Warnings: Pillow Humping, cunnilingus, panty-sniffing kink (once again, the glove returns...), honestly Copia just gets more pathetic in this part, vaginal fingering, premature ejaculation, cum eating, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, dirty talk (a lot of it...), lots of feelings, idiots to lovers

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3

A/N: Guys... thank you all SO MUCH. The love for this fic has been bigger than I ever thought, and genuinely my heart is so full whenever I get a comment, a reblog, a message about it. I hope this is worth the wait, I know it's literally double the length of the other chapters but I really wanted you to enjoy and immerse yourself - there needed to be a decent enough pay-off after all the pining and angst 😂 Special thanks to @her-satanic-wiles for the beta reading and encouragement, and to @adinferix for their help with the Italian translation!

Copia had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t think of you today. Last night had been the last time. No, really.... He swore it. The moment he decided? When he’d woken up, face down in his pillows – after a night of self-indulgence that included another long-since dirtied and discarded pillow... - and realised that there was something stuck to his face.  

Your glove.     It had taken at least 25 minutes for the red imprint of that floral pattern to fade away from the pale skin across his cheek, and he’d been mortified - especially when brushing his teeth, having to stare at himself in the mirror with that pattern taunting him. He may as well have written “PERVERT” in sharpie across his cheek instead, for all the shame it brought him. 

That pattern was the reason for the Cardinal’s tardiness to his seminar that day, the man scurrying down the halls and checking his reflection in any and every passing surface possible to be sure that there was no longer an intrusive red flower burned into his pale skin.  

When he reached his classroom, everyone had taken to their seats already, some chattering away with each other as they waited, others impatiently tapping their feet or pencils with each passing second. Copia slunk into the classroom, muttering apologies with his eyes trained on the floor to avoid the death glares of the siblings who took their studies just a touch too seriously.  

Without further ado, the Cardinal began to make some notes on the chalkboard at the front of the classroom. The chalk squeaked against the board, some of the siblings in the room whining incredulously at the sound and the chatter ceasing as if he’d done it deliberately to shush them.  

“Okie dokie, we will look today to focus on Latin pronunciation, and-” the Cardinal froze as he turned back to the class, eyes settling on a figure in the back corner.  

He must have been dreaming...   

There you sat, in your most conservative habit possible – purposefully changing after your meeting with Terzo that morning, your guilt for derailing the Cardinal in the confessional booth forcing you out of your impressive ensemble meant to manipulate Papa. 

Coming to Copia’s seminar was not a choice; you just desperately didn’t want Papa to bring Sister Imperator into this or get yourself in any more trouble. Terzo had spared you a punishment and you weren’t to take this for granted. So, you’d made sure you arrived with a group of other siblings, pushing through into the seminar room and plonking yourself in the very back corner in the hope he wouldn’t see you. 

But of course, he saw you. As if his body was magnetically drawn towards you, you were the first he laid his eyes on.  

You avoided his gaze, scribbling something down on the paper in front of you to look busy. You hadn’t missed his cut off sentence as his eyes settled on you, nor the lingering silence as you scribbled.  

‘Say something, Cardinal... Please say something. I can’t bear this...’ you thought, the seconds ticking by.  

“Mi dispiace (I’m sorry), I lost my train of thought for a moment. Pronunciation, sì, that’s where we were. Okay...” he shook his head, returning his attention to the class. He couldn’t focus on you now, couldn’t jeopardise himself that way. One wrong move, and you may disappear for another four weeks, or worse, and Satanas, he’d never forgive himself. That was not the kind of hell he wished to endure.  

Throughout the seminar, he would steal quick glances in your direction, as if making sure you were indeed still there, that you were real. Trying to find you before now had been like trying to catch smoke... downright impossible. His guilt gnawed at him like an insect burrowing into his skin, shame creeping over him each time he saw you staring down at your page.  

You didn’t want to be here, that much was clear to him. He’d made you uncomfortable, avoiding him... It stung him more than it should. 

“I... I think we’re done for today, classe (class) . Good job, molto bene (very good),” he fussed over the book on his desk as the class rose from their seats, gathering their things and heading for the door. In a moment of what he would describe as idiocy, he called out, “Uh, Sorella ______? Could I just...”  

But you were gone.   

Copia felt like a moron, embarrassed and pining over you as he watched you leave so quickly, quite obviously running from him. All he wanted to do was to apologise, to make you feel like you didn’t have to hide from him anymore. But you were that repulsed by him that you fled at the first chance you could.  

He huffed, dropping into his chair at his desk as the room emptied. He thought it over for a moment – you didn’t want to be in his class, and yet you came anyway. Why?  

Terzo... He had noticed your absence, questioned the Cardinal over it... Perhaps he’d told you to return to your duties, punished you...   

And that was all his fault. He’d upset you so much you’d avoided your duties, hidden yourself away. You were so repulsed by him that you couldn’t even look at him anymore. His sweet, most innocent Sorella…  

The Sorella who used to smile at him in the hallways, no matter who she was walking with.   

The Sorella who never missed a seminar he was hosting.   

The Sorella who only ever confessed on a Thursday, during his duty.   

The Sorella who kept stealing glances at him as his brothers performed Black Mass.  

Not anymore.  

How silly of him to think there was ever any chance you might not hate him. How silly of him to think you might actually be attracted to him, that you could be at all interested in the blithering idiot Cardinale who still reads Beano comics and relaxes with a Juicebox and video games at the end of the working week.  

Copia was always brushed to the side, never good enough for a woman as wonderful as you, as beautiful as you.  

How daft he felt, and how sick he felt knowing how he had defiled your trust – and continued to do so every. fucking. night. Behind your back, in the shame of his private quarters. 

Perverted old Cardinale Copia...  

Those moans, oh how he could write a symphony with those moans. They sounded so visceral and somehow so melodic rolling from your tongue as his rolled against your heat. And Sathanas, the taste... he devoured that sweetness like it was his last meal on Death Row. Your hands clutching his hair scraped their nails against his scalp and he growled into your mound with a deep vibration that drew more sweet, sweet moans from your lips.   

With two gloved fingers, he breached your walls and with expert precision, he found the spot only you had found yourself – no previous lovers ever able to satiate you like he could. You were his.   

His his his.  

Even through the leather, he could feel your warmth on his fingers, hear the hungry slurps of your pussy drawing him back in over and over with every pump of his fingers inside you.   

“Cardinal... Cardinal....” you chanted like a mantra, eyes screwed shut and breath laboured as he drew you closer and closer to an end, more of your juices seeping out and dripping onto his eagerly lapping tongue, until...  

Until...  

Sweat beaded on Copia’s forehead as his eyes shot open, his chest rising and falling dramatically as he lay in bed, his skin hot to the touch in the dark around him. His head snapped to the side, seeing the glowing red of his digital alarm clock reading 3:09am.  

He rubbed at his paintless eyes, groaning into the dark at the sticky feeling all over his body, the sweat now cooling in the night air and chilling him.  

Just a fucking dream.   

He could still taste you, still feel you, still hear you... How could he stop this? How would he ever be able to move on from this fucking chokehold you had on him? Does time heal all wounds?     Copia sure hoped so.  

In the dark, he felt the familiar need in his groin – a stiffness he wouldn’t be able to shake so easily. He didn’t want to, not again. Already he felt like a total degenerate, jacking off to the smell of your used glove a nightly occurrence. But now he was dreaming of you?  

With reluctance, he shifted the sheets and let his naked form hit the cold air around him, thick cock standing to attention. He threw an arm over his eyes, his other reaching down until he could lazily stroke the shaft of his shame a few times.  

Here we go again, he thought to himself in disgust.  

But disgust wasn’t enough to quell the rising lust he felt, and his hand began to pump his length with vigour as he recounted the details of the dream that woke him.  

He whimpered into the night, the heavy arm across his eyes shielding himself from his own depravity only getting heavier. His hips started to roll against the mattress, meeting his fist over and over. He couldn’t take this, he wanted so badly to bury himself, to grind down, to feel pressure...   

He sat upright, reaching behind him for one of the silk pillows he lay on before. He got up onto his knees, folding the pillow in two to create a crease and pushed it into his mattress, lining his hips up with it.   

And like the dirty old cardinal he was, he pushed his cock into the crease, groaning into a tight fist as he did.  

He leaned his weight over onto the hand pinning the pillow down and began to roll his hips into the softness, his eyes squeezing shut in pleasure as images of you flashed in his mind. That dream, it had felt so... so real? As if he could taste you still, smell you still... 

And he could, of course, once his hand had snaked under the remaining pillows to retrieve that damned glove he was far too lazy to hide properly these days. He humped the pillow he buried his cock into like a horny teenager, holding that glove against his nose and mouth as he got faster and faster, inhaling.  

“Ohhh, cazzo... (fuck),” he groaned, picturing you beneath him, his cock pistoning in and out of you. How good you’d feel beneath him, how slick, and wet, and warm you’d be for him. The noises from the confessional booth still haunted him, ricocheting off the inside of his skull as he buried himself over and over.   

“Sorella... Hmmm,” he hummed, “______, merda (shit).” His hips stuttered, the silk dampened with precum giving just enough friction... He wished it was you so badly, your pussy enveloping him. He craved it, like he couldn’t bear to go on without having you, even if it were just once.  

He bit his lip as he growled, hunching over the pillow like an animal and spilling his cum into the crease. His hips slowed, lazily rocking back and forth as he milked the rest of his spend until he could take it not more, letting go of the silk and falling face first into the rest of his bedding, uncaring of the mess beneath him. 

Integrating yourself back into the Ministry life hadn’t been nearly as hard as you had thought, managing to avoid the Cardinal everywhere other than that damn seminar. You’d heard him call out to you as you were leaving, but it only made your feet carry you faster past your Siblings and out into the hall to escape. You knew it was cowardly, but you weren’t ready to have to explain yourself to him, to see the disappointment in his face or to chastise you for what you’d coerced him into doing.  

You knew today you could evade him, his schedule keeping him busy all day and out of your current hiding place; the library.  

You adored this library... The corridors were like a maze, easy enough to get lost in your pursuit of knowledge. In dark nooks, high back leather chairs to read in sat in dim lamplight. Artistic renditions of Satanic teachings littered the ceilings as they might in a Catholic church – except, it was Lucifer who danced through each scene instead of Jesus. Dark wooded desks for studying or translating lined up in the middle of the lobby, two grand staircases winding up the walls opposite each other to the second floor. In between the staircases, was the most beautiful part of all... 

On the floor sat a reversed Pentagram, carved into stone with pictures of Lucifer and his most feared animals painted into the ramp where the staircases met – goats, cats, owls, bats... the misunderstood creatures tied to him. Carved into the outer edge of the pentagram sat purple stained Atropa belladonna flowers and vines, and atop the raised pentagram sat a marble statue of a white snake winding around a black pedestal. In the mouth of the snake, stuck between the fangs, was the ripest red apple – a symbol of Lucifer’s temptation, his greatest triumph in the Garden of Eden.  

That statue always seemed to steal your breath away, as it did anyone who gazed upon it. The care and attention to detail, the way it always shined in the faux candlelight – real was too dangerous around the ancient texts and antique furniture throughout the library – it was just so spectacular.  

It was a beautiful place to spend your day, but it served a purpose today. You chose one of the leather high back chairs just off from the lobby to relax and catch up on some reading you’d neglected in your time spent hiding.   

As you neared the end of the book you were studying – an old Catholic tome you struggled to translate from the dusty pages – you decided to find the book that you knew countered the Catholic teachings, so you could cross reference and perhaps understand the old book better.  

You stood, taking the Catholic tome with you into the rows of tall bookshelves in search of the Satanic counterpart. It had to be up on the fourth shelf, just out of reach. Sighing dramatically in your own laziness, you reached for the running ladder at the end of the shelves, dragging it along its tracks to the spot you had been standing. You rested the book in your arms on a lower shelf, and starting to climb the rungs of the ladder.  

In your haste, the long skirt of your chosen conservative habit – the ones you had taken to wearing every day now that you were to be out and about around the Cardinal again – became trapped under your foot and naturally, you slipped from a few feet off the ground, losing your grip and balance.  

Two unassumingly strong arms stopped you before you could hit the marble flooring, wrapping around your waist and tugging you to a body behind you to stop you meeting a rather bruising conclusion.     “Careful, Sorella...” the chest you were pressed against vibrated with a deep chuckle. “Pretty girls should not be covered in accidental bruises, eh?”  

You stumbled to your feet, straightening out your habit and turning to see Terzo smirking at you, his ghostly eye somehow even more bewitching in the dim lamplight.     “Grazie (thank you), Papa... I slipped on...” 

“Sì, your habit,” his eyes raked over your form, confusion furrowing on his brow as he remembered the other morning in his office – you'd been wearing something much more to his liking. “I must say, I preferred the shorter one, mia cara . With the red stitching...” he winked.  

Your cheeks flushed with heat as you averted your eyes from his.  

“Did you only wear that for me, tesoro? ” he winked, taking a step towards you, “Thought it would get you out of trouble, eh?” His teasing flustered you, and you couldn’t string a full sentence together as your heart pounded in your ears, breathing irregular to compensate for the rush of oxygen to your brain. He laughed as you stuttered a denial. 

“Speaking of trouble, have you been attending your duties, sorella? Did you go to Copia’s seminar?” he stepped back again out of your personal space, allowing you to breathe normally once again. 

“Sì, Papa.” 

“And was he... happy to see you?” he asked, arching a brow. His tone confused you, like he expected a specific reaction. But Terzo was fishing... he suspected the Cardinal had a crush and was doing anything he could to put you in Copia’s way. He was making you dance around him, like the carrot on a string to tempt the donkey.... 

“Uh... I don’t know,” you thought back to the way his face fell when his eyes caught yours, the way his breath caught in his throat and the look of fear as his skin had paled to a grey colour. “Perhaps he was surprised.” 

Terzo’s face screwed up in confused annoyance. He’d expected better from the Cardinal, for him to be more welcoming when he so clearly had missed you around the Ministry. He’d asked Terzo to keep an eye out for you, to tell him immediately if he saw you, after all.  

“Well, I’m glad you’re back to your schedule, mia cara. But you know,” Terzo had a plan... He enjoyed meddling in the Cardinal’s affairs, and well, anyone’s ... “I must insist you attend confessional before today is out.” 

Your heart dropped in your chest. You fought to keep your face neutral, quelling every natural urge to look absolutely petrified of the thought. Because of course he would want you to attend confessional today.  

On a fucking Thursday.  

“It’s been a while, no? If you were gone for four weeks, you must be overdue?” he quizzed.  

“W-well, yes...”   

“We can’t have you falling behind, mia cara. I’m sure you have something to confess to the Dark Lord,” he turned on his expensive Cuban heels, “I must go, I have some uh... business to attend concerning a rather beautiful Librarian,” he began sauntering off into the bookshelves, “By tonight, per favore, sorella !” he called out behind him. 

Just as before, your shoes echoed on the Ministry floors as you walked to the Chapel. Except tonight, they felt louder and louder, ringing in your ears with each step. Your legs carried you on autopilot, unable to disobey a Papa’s direct instruction.  

Why did he choose tonight of all nights? It felt like returning to the scene of a crime... You didn’t know what you were going to say, what you could possibly confess to the Cardinal this evening that you’d done in the last few weeks when quite obviously you hadn’t done anything at all... 

The Chapel was steeped in dim candlelight, completely void of any signs of life. You stood in the doorway for a moment, staring like a deer caught in headlights at the booth at the other end of the room. A shiver ran over your spine, a nasty reminder that you were supposed to move, to go and sit in that infernal wooden box next to the source of your embarrassment, your fear... your lust.  

Because of course, despite your efforts to pretend he didn’t exist, your brain liked to remind you at night that he most certainly did. Except now, the grunts and groans of his pleasure were accurate, burned into your memory and used against you as a weapon as you slept.  

With a push, you entered the Chapel, somehow speed-walking to sit inside the booth beside the Cardinal who jumped at the sound of the door slamming shut a little too hard. You wasted no time.  

“Bless me, Cardinal, I have sinned,” you deadpanned.  

Beside you, the Cardinal sat bolt upright, eyes staring into his peripheral vision, afraid to make a move and look directly at the shadow beside him. If he made any sudden movements, perhaps you’d disappear in a puff of smoke... 

He cleared his throat quietly.     “Which of the sins have you committed, Sorella?” He stuck to his duty, as you stuck to yours. He wasn’t about to risk trying to have any other kind of conversation with you right now. Perhaps he could try after...  

But what the fuck would he even say to you? He wanted so desperately to apologise, but he couldn’t completely clear his conscience without admitting to everything that’s happened since the last time you sat beside each other in this damned booth. And there was no way he could do that, not without the promise that the ground would open up beneath his feet and plunge him into the deepest pit of hell the second he finished confessing. 

Beside him, you waited a moment, trying to think of something to confess to, but your mind was screaming the same thing at you.     Lust. Lust. Lust. Lust. LUST.  

“Sloth, Cardinal,” you huffed, “I’ve neglected my duties.” Coward, you scolded yourself. Not that it was a lie, of course. But... you couldn’t just own up to the worst of your sins. 

Copia’s shoulders relaxed next to him, a sigh leaving his lips. Part of him was terrified you might say lust again – he wasn’t sure he could take that torture. 

“Do you wish to elaborate, sorella? Is there a reason for your sloth?” he asked, as if he was trying to hurt himself further. He knew it was him – he was the reason. You were avoiding him, disgusted by him.  

“I did something terrible, and... I’ve been hiding,” you admitted. The cardinal was confused... What could you, his sweet sorella, have possibly done that was so terrible? Lucifer, you didn’t mean him? Were you that horrified by him?   

“Sorella, there’s no need to hide, you... uh...” he couldn’t think straight, his heartbeat rising in his chest as he panicked. He didn’t know what to say... Almost as if he were to absolve you of your sins but that wasn’t what confessional was for? But he wanted so badly to comfort you, to tell you it was okay, that he was so sorry... So very sorry for putting you in that position all those weeks ago.  

And on the other side of the lattice, there you sat, feeling sorry for ever entering the booth that night, for pushing him into such a situation with a member of his congregation, for defiling his position as Cardinal.  

Both two different sides of exactly the same coin. 

“I... I can’t do this, Cardinal. I’m sorry...” you rushed, pushing your way out of the booth and running through the Chapel. Copia sat for a moment, frozen in shock and disappointment when his body reacted before his mind could.   

He got up, and chased you. Out through the Chapel, down the hall where the clacking of your shoes was still echoing off the marble. But he kept running, desperately trying to find you without tripping on his cassock. He had to find you. He couldn’t let you stay like this, so angry and disgusted at him. He needed to apologise, even if that meant admitting to all the rest...    

“Sorella, wait!” he called, the halls empty for the time of evening it was. He was grateful, chasing a mere shadow through the halls like a predator on the hunt for his prey. Except that’s the last thing he wanted you to feel; hunted.  

You found it too difficult to run in your habit, far too long for you. You cursed as you stumbled, somehow managing to stay on your feet in the pursuit of your dorm but the Cardinal was faster than he looked, and before you knew what had happened you felt a grip on your arm dragging you into a nearby door, letting go as soon as you’d been almost flung into the room.   

The door slammed, and the Cardinal stood against it, breathless and looking distraught.  

“Cardinal, don’t make me s-” you wanted to apologise, to beg to spare you the shame of saying aloud what you’d been thinking since that first confessional... but he interrupted you.   “Sorella, mi dispiace if I frightened you, but I owe you an ap-” 

“Cardinal please, I can’t-”    “Mia cara, just listen...” he begged, but neither of you could get a word in edgeways.  

“I’m sorry, okay? I can’t help it, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable...” you cried, eyes filling with tears as you yelled your sorrows at him.     “What? What are you-” his confusion painted his features, hardened lines forming in his face.  

“Y-you’ve always been so good to me, and I don’t want to make you feel awkward or put you through that ever again. I should never have made you do that, I’m so ashamed of myself,” you rabbited on, wailing at him with four weeks of pent-up embarrassment spewing out your mouth. But the Cardinal stared at you as the cogs in his brain turned, realising what you were actually apologising for.  

“Are you sorry for your dream, mia cara?” he asked you softly, taking a step to stand of his own accord instead of leaning his back against the closed door.  

“Yes!” you yelled, “That and... well... what happened. It was too far, I put you in such an uncomfortable position and that’s not fair of me at all. Cardinal please forgive me, I’m trying not to have these thoughts-”     “You’re still having them?” his head cocked to the side, eyes squinting as he processed your rantings. 

“Well, um... I... yes, but I’m working on it, I’m trying to busy myself with other things and I thought that maybe if I hid for a while that I could stop it, not that I could look you in the eyes again anyway after what I did, and...��� 

Copia had heard enough. He strode towards you through the rows of desks and chairs surrounding him, pressing the palm of his glove to your mouth to quiet you and in turn, pushing you to lean back against the solid oak desk behind you.     “Sorella, please...” 

That moment, singularly, was the beginning of your downfall. When you felt the leather of his glove press against your lips, his body pressing against yours as you stumbled back, and you whined against his hand...  

Copia’s eyes widened, like he hadn’t expected that at all. His movements were not meant to be at all provocative in nature; he had simply panicked, needing you to hush so he could speak, to apologise and not knowing how else to do so. But now... Well, he could see the crimson colour of your cheeks under his glove, matched with the look of shock on your own face. That noise; it was completely involuntary. But it came from a place of lust...    Of submission. 

A beat of silence passed between you, the air appearing to be sucked out of the room completely, suffocating you both where you stood. Your screamed at yourself inside your head, cursing how pathetically easily you had succumbed to the slightest touch and showed your hand before any kind of game had truly even begun.  

“You must learn when to quiet this pretty mouth of yours and listen...” The cardinal tested his limits, watching your response. He noticed the way your chest rose and fell deeply and slowly beneath him, and how your eyes softened a little as they scanned his face and found no real anger there, only the hint of a smirk. “Now, give me a nod or a shake of your head, eh? I want to ask you a few things. Nod if you understand.”  

You nodded, his hand still pressed firmly to your mouth.  

“Are you still having these dreams, Sorella?” You shut your eyes now, embarrassed, and slowly nodded your head.     “And are you still... enjoying these dreams?” he spoke slowly, deliberately. You nodded again, hesitant. 

“And have you acted on these dreams since, tesoro?” You took a few deep breaths before answering again; a slow, ashamed, but deliberate nod.  

Copia sucked a lungful of oxygen in through his teeth, watching your eyes on him as he did. His head swam in a dizzying array of images; thoughts of the dream you had told him about in such detail, thoughts of you alone at night thinking of him, touching yourself for him. As he exhaled, he looked away from you, breaking the eye contact you held in fear and finally looking around the room.  

The seminar room...  

… from your dream.  

A wicked smirk spread across the Cardinal’s face, and as you followed his gaze around the room, you realised why. You dare not move, holding your breath as he turned back to you, his beautifully monochrome eyes hooded and boring down into yours. 

“It’s here, no?” he asked. You didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. “This is where your fantasia (fantasy) takes place, eh? Answer me, tesoro. ..”  

You nodded against his hand again, shame flooding your cheeks with warmth. The stirring in your abdomen was growing the longer he stood pressing you into the desk behind you. It was maddening.  

“I press you against this desk in that dream, hm?” he knocked on the wood you leaned on with his free hand, in turn pressing just a little tighter against you. You could feel his body heat through his cassock, and it served to focus your own heat between your legs... “Will you remind me, mia cara , what exactly did I do here?” 

Slowly, he removed his hand from your mouth to let you answer him with words – except, you could find none. You stuttered and fumbled as you stared into his eyes, his face so close to yours you could smell his cologne stronger than you ever had. It was utterly intoxicating, a sweet yet smoky aroma. 

“Come, now, dolcezza ... Don’t hold out on me now, hm?” The back of his fingers met your cheek, lightly grazing the blush soothingly. “What. Did. I. do?”  

There was no escaping this, not that you wanted to. You were so close, your dream practically coming true before you. You may not be able to forgive yourself for pushing your Cardinal over the lines of professionalism all those weeks ago, but here he was, quite obviously flirting with you, enticing you.  

Tempting you.  

And you would never forgive yourself for fumbling this, for running and hiding once again. And that guilt would be worse, embedded with more shame and embarrassment than ever before. 

“You... were kissing me...” you whispered. The Cardinal smiled – not the dirty little smirk from before, more of a satisfactory smile, sweeter.  

“Tesoro, I’ll only ask you once – and whatever the answer, I will respect it,” he began, some nerves starting to bubble up in his chest. He feared rejection more than anything, having been rejected his entire life. Could he take it if you rejected him too? He wasn’t sure, but he had to try...  “Would you like me to kiss you?” 

Your chest bloomed with warmth, eyes flickering down to his half-painted lips and back to his eyes, somehow looking more puppy-dog like as the seconds ticked by. You realised then, he was scared of you saying no. Scared...   

But you could never deny your Cardinal.  

Words had failed you, that much was clear. And so, you opted for almost involuntary action, slowly leaning forwards against him until your lips barely grazed his. Copia could have sworn he felt his lips tingle where they’d brushed with yours; such a fleeting touch, unsure of yourself but it was all the answer he needed.  

He leaned in again, pressing his lips to yours for a kiss that took your breath away... His lips melded into yours with such a longing, both of you easily losing yourself in the moment. Just as in your dream, you sank into him, your hands gripping onto his cassock as he deepened the kiss. His arms had snaked around your waist, pulling your hips flush against him as he hummed into your mouth. 

Just as you imagined every night, one of his hands came to remove your veil, letting your hair fall freely while he worked his way past your lips with his tongue, gently mixing with your own as you fell further into him. You whined at the sensation, feeling his hands regroup and tighten on your waist as you did.  

He pulled away from you breathless, the black paint of his top lip smudged slightly. He pressed his forehead to yours, searching your eyes for any sign you wanted to back out, but finding nothing.  

“You look so beautiful without your veil, dolcezza...” he whispered before he could stop himself. Mentally, he scolded himself for being such a lovesick idiota, but the way you looked into his eyes and smiled was everything he had hoped for. He twirled a strand of your hair in his fingers, watching it as he curled it around the leather. “I had no idea you had all this under there, eh?” he chuckled, “ bellissima (beautiful).”  

He dropped the strand and instead came to hold your chin between this thumb and finger.  

“Now tell me, what happens next in that dream of yours again?” Your heart pounded in your chest, threatening to punch straight through your ribs to get to him. This was happening. This wasn’t you pushing him into anything, you weren’t undermining his authority. He wanted this. He wanted you.   

“Your hands... they slide up my habit...” you muttered, shy.  

“Like this?” he narrated, crouching momentarily to hook his hand under your habit, trailing slowly up your leg until the skirt hung lopsided around your upper thigh. You nodded at him, watching as his eyes never left yours. “And do I touch you here, mia cara? ” His palm cupped your mound over your panties, and he could feel the searing heat emanating from your core through the leather of his glove.  

The noise you made was involuntary – a soft gasp that made his already half-hard length twitch with interest beneath the heavy wool of his clothes. He didn’t wait for you to answer him, his question more of a rhetorical tease. Instead, he slid his hand against you, pressing against your entrance while his palm sat heavy against your clitoris.  

“Cardinal...” you breathed, eyes fluttering shut and lips parting to a perfectly round ‘O’.  

He continued to tease for a moment, enjoying the soft mewls and sharp breaths you took each time he would alternate the pressure between his palm and his fingers. But he only had so much control, after weeks of pining, of dreaming of you, fucking his damn pillows to the memory and the scent of you. 

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down your legs and letting them hit the floor around your feet. Without wasting a second or daring to look away from the blissful expression on your face, he dipped his fingers between your folds, dragging them painfully slowly through the mess you had made for him. The choked moan you let out at the sensation of that damned glove sliding through rang out against the stone walls of the seminar room.  

Copia collected some of your mess on his glove, lifting his hand into the dim candlelight of the room to see the way it shined. It reminded him of the moment he’d found your sodden glove in the booth, how it left the darker wet marks where he’d held it. Except this time, he was blessed enough to have it right from the source.  

“ Splendido... (splendid)” he mumbled, before you opened your eyes to watch him bring his shimmering glove to his lips, tasting what he’d taken. The way he groaned at the sweetness had you clenching around nothing, fisting the cassock you still had such a tight grip on. “I can’t deny myself, dolcezza ... Not anymore.” 

Before you had time to linger on his words – not anymore... - he dropped to his knees in front of you, as if ready to worship. He adjusted the skirt of your habit for you to hold around your hips, still covering your modesty for now. Both his hands slid up your thighs, parting them as he slotted in-between, finally coming to uncover you for him. 

The way you glistened for him made his concealed erection throb, and as much as he wanted to dive in and devour you whole, he didn’t want to rush this. He’d waited too long to be sloppy here. Instead, he pressed his lips to your inner thighs, enjoying the way they trembled in anticipation. Slowly, he made his way up, his breath tickling and warming the trail of wet he’d left with his tongue.  

Finally, his lips pressed against your mound. As painful as it was to have him tease, to gently kiss you where you so desperately needed more, you were grateful for any contact at all after the weeks of anguish believing he held no feelings other than disappointment and disgust for you.  

When the Cardinal at your feet finally allowed his tongue to slip between your folds, you couldn’t help the hand that flew to knock his biretta off his head, grasping at the peppered grey hair that grew beneath it. He groaned against you; at your taste, at your heat, at your grip. It was all so wonderfully intoxicating.  

As he let himself bury his tongue in you, he lifted one of your thighs over his shoulder for better access for him, and stability for you. He wrapped his arm around that thigh, gripping on for dear life as if you’d disappear on him again. But you were going nowhere anytime soon... 

As he mouthed at your clit, he couldn’t help the grunts and groans that rumbled like thunder against you, vibrating through you. You threw your head back in pleasure, uncaring of how loud your moans and whimpers were.  

When Copia started to slide his middle finger through your folds below his tongue, you almost collapsed back onto the desk. He pressed against your entrance, slowly allowing his leather-clad finger to slide inside you. He never stopped his tongue, never came up for breath.  

When he had his ring finger join the other, you began to see stars. He filled you so well, scissoring inside you and curling up towards that glorious spot inside you that no other had ever found.  

“C-Cardinal... ahh,” you whimpered. It fuelled him further, hearing his title fall from your lips above him. It was all too much for him; your taste, your grip. And now that? Oh, how sinful it sounded, how beautiful, like the prettiest songbird singing its morning melody.  

He was ashamed to admit that what you were doing to him had such a tight grasp on his sanity, he was losing himself in his mind and his body was following suit. While he had no friction, no pressure, nothing to help the painful need in his crotch, he was so close...  

In his reverie, he lifted your other thigh over his shoulder, burying his face further into you as he continued using his fingers to bring you closer and closer to the edge. You had to grip the desk under you to steady yourself, allowing his animalistic urges to take total control of your body. This was nothing like your dream.  

This was so much better.  

His tongue lavished against your clit unforgivingly, lips circling and suckling from time to time as he drank you in.  

“F-fuck, Cardinal... I can’t,” you begged for nothing above him, so close to the edge, dangling by a splintering branch over a deep canyon that was ready to snap at any moment. You couldn’t help the way you bucked your hips anymore, or the way you ground your pussy down into his face, his nose becoming a tool for pleasure as much as his tongue, lips and chin.  

That splintering branch snapped clean off when he growled into you, and suddenly you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, back slamming down into the hard wood of the desk behind you. If you felt any pain at all, it didn’t show – you were too busy writhing and squeezing your thighs around poor Copia’s head.  

What you didn’t know, was that the growl that had pushed you into your earth-shattering orgasm had been a growl not only of lust, but of anger. At himself.  

Beneath you, Copia was squeezing your thigh with the hand that wasn’t buried inside you, desperately trying to stop himself... But his poor, untouched cock had violently flinched beneath his cassock before spilling a hot load of his seed. Copia had cum just from eating you out.  

If he didn’t feel like a pathetic pervert before tonight, he certainly did now. Who cums from just going down on a woman?  

Oh, but you were not just any woman, were you? Not to him. You were the woman he pined over, stressed over, cried over, came over every fucking night for four wretched weeks. What it was about you, he wasn’t sure, but the Cardinal had never been so besotted with a woman in his life. Dare he say it, it had started long before that night in the confessional booth... He had been drawn to you since the day you took your vows.  

And no, he just couldn’t help himself.  

You lay on the desk, catching your breath and waiting for your head to stop spinning as your limbs went lifeless around him, one slipping from his shoulder. He detached himself from your core and stood up, readjusting himself in his pants for a more comfortable position now that the wet patch in his underwear was beginning to seep through to bloom into a deep red stain on his cassock. But there was no getting comfortable with his softening cock confined and covered in his own spend.  

He stepped towards you, between your legs and reached for your hand with the glove that wasn’t still glistening with your arousal. He lifted it to his completely smudged lips, peppering the back of it with chaste kisses as you came to.  

“Mia cara... are you... okay?” he mumbled between kisses. You hummed an affirmative response back, your mind still foggy in post-orgasm haze.  

Copia continued peppering kisses to the back of your hand, to each fingertip, your wrist, a little way up your arm and back down as he waited patiently for you to come back around to him. Eventually, you sat up, pushing your habit down to cover your modesty once again. He held your hand in his, gazing up into your eyes with a soft expression you couldn’t quite read. 

When you really looked at him, you couldn’t help but giggle. His paint was smudged around his mouth, a grey hue painting him from his nose to his chin, and his hair was so dishevelled he looked as if he had been dragged through a hedge.  

“What’s so funny, cara ?” he smiled with you, the kind of smile you can’t keep off your face when someone you adore is laughing near you.  

“You look a mess,” you laughed, smoothing out the parts of his hair that were sticking up.  

“Ah, sì, you have quite a grip,” he chuckled, looking away for a moment, suddenly bashful. “I trust that was not so bad, eh?” he bit his lip as he waited for your response, a little smug smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. 

“Better than my dream, Cardinal,” you shyly admitted. “But um... my dream doesn’t end there...” 

Copia’s smile dropped, realising what you were hinting at. You weren’t done yet... You wanted more from him. But in order to perform, he would have to reveal what you so far had missed.  

Before he could protest, your hand was cupping his bulge under his cassock, but as you pressed your palm there, your eyes grew wide, and your gaze dropped to look at what you’d felt.  

Wet.   

“Uh... mi dispiace, sorella... (I’m sorry, sister...) I... I couldn’t, um...”  

Someone had stoked the dissipating fire inside you once again, and a flame began to burn. You weren’t sure if it was knowing that Copia had cum in his pants at the taste of you, or if it was his dumbstruck look as he tried to rectify the situation with words but knowing he had been so enamoured with you that he’d reached his end even whilst neglected... that was hotter than you could have ever imagined.  

“What was it, Cardinal?” you interrupted him. He silenced quickly, cocking his head in confusion. “Was it how I sounded?” You pressed your palm to the soft bulge beneath you, not at all bothered by the wet fabric. 

“Was it how I tasted?” you asked, your confidence growing as his eyes widened in shock.  

“Was it how I pulled your hair?” The heel of your palm dug into him, rotating in a small circle over his cock.  

“Was it, how my thighs tightened around your head?” You heard him moan softly as you stared into his eyes. His cock was beginning to twitch in interest again.  

“Or was it how my pussy clenched around your fingers?”   

That did it. Without a word, the man before you wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you to him to crash your lips together. You’d awoken something inside him, a beast that he’d been keeping tame until now. Between desperate clashes of lips and tongues, Copia began to tease you back. 

“You want to know what it was, tesoro?” he panted against your lips like a dog in heat, “it was the thought that not only did I have you right where I wanted you,” he paused for another heated kiss, “ finally tasting what I’ve been desiring for so long,” and another, “but that I had infiltrated this pretty little head of yours, corrupted the sweetest of all the sorelle... I got to make you, mine...”   

You whimpered at his words, knowing every single one was no lie. But hearing Copia call you his had you arching your back to press against him, your hips desperately seeking him out and your lips messily found his again.  

 Terzo yawned as he walked down the halls of the ministry, the days of solid paperwork and papal duties - not the mention his library rendezvous earlier that day... - catching up to him as he slogged back to his quarters. The halls were dark, silent. He didn’t rush – he didn’t have the energy to. His mind wandered as he dawdled, taking in the stained glass around him with every step he took.   

He rounded a corner, and thought he could hear shuffling coming from inside one of the seminar rooms. He rolled his eyes, annoyed at the thought of having to put on his big scary Papa voice and tell whoever was out of bounds this late to go back to their dorms. Why did they make him work so hard, eh?   

As he drew closer to the door of a room he presumed was the one inhabited, he heard voices. He reached for the doorknob, until the voices registered, and he realised... These were voices he recognised...  

“Uh... mi dispiace, sorella... (I’m sorry, sister...) I... I couldn’t, um...” Was that Cardinal Copia he heard stammering away in there like a moron? Well, as a higher up member of the clergy, he was okay to be out of bounds at this hour. Terzo shrugged to himself and started to turn away from the door – whatever the Cardinal was up to in there was his business. And frankly, Terzo was too tired to even realise he had been speaking to someone...    

“What was it, Cardinal?” Terzo stopped, his brows pulling together in thought. That had sounded like you, Sister _____?  What would she be doing alone with the Cardinal at this hour?   

Terzo was now intrigued, and hung around for a moment. 

“Was it how I sounded?” What on earth was she talking about?   

“Was it how I tasted?” Terzo’s eyes widened, his jaw falling open. Had he heard that right?  

“Was it how I pulled your hair?” This was not the same Sorella _____ he knew, surely not? Such filth spilling from her mouth... He almost felt a swell of pride in his chest. 

“Was it, how my thighs tightened around your head?” Terzo all but jumped with giddiness at the door, keeping himself as quiet as possible to not alert those inside. He heard the Cardinal moan the most pathetic little sound, and slapped his gloved hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. Oh, fratellino, you are down BAD...    

“Or was it how my pussy clenched around your fingers?”  

Terzo’s hand dropped when his jaw hit the floor, completely taken aback by your brazen use of such a sinful phrase. He’d clearly stumbled upon something already in motion... Suddenly, he heard a quick shuffle, followed by a suppressed moan from you and a hungry growl from the Cardinal. Terzo jumped away from the door as if it had burst into flames.  

Now, Terzo was certainly a pervert. But he was not about to eavesdrop on his brother fraternising with a sister of sin. He recoiled at the thought, shivering as he backed away to the far wall of the opposite corridor. He stood frozen for a moment, his body not reacting anywhere near fast enough.   

“You want to know what it was, tesoro?.... It was the thought that not only did I have you right where I wanted you... but I had infiltrated this pretty little head of yours, corrupted the sweetest of all the sorelle... I got to make you, mine...”  

That did it. Terzo turned and bolted down the corridor to get away from the lip-smacking sounds and the whines you let slip.  

As he rounded the corner and managed to get away from the noises that frankly would now haunt him in his dreams, he couldn’t help but feel a little... proud.    

That had been his doing. He’d pushed them together, forced them into each other’s presence knowing how absolutely pitiful and sciocco (foolish) the pair of you were being. Terzo certainly wasn’t blind – he'd seen the Cardinal’s affections, saw how your absence had affected him so. Now he was beginning to think your disappearance may even have had to do with him, in some way. Avoiding him, perhaps?  

Not that it mattered. For now, he was proud that his fratellino was making a move – however mentally scarring that move had been to overhear. 

And he told you that you were his, too. The meaning of that may have been lost in the moment, but it certainly wasn’t lost on Terzo. Copia meant that with every fibre of his being.  

He smiled to himself as he continued to walk to his chambers. For all the teasing and all the jokes Terzo made at Copia’s expense as they were growing up, he had to admit, he turned out alright in the end. His goofy little half-brother who kept his secret Beanos and drank his little juice boxes. He chuckled to himself – he certainly was proud of him. And finally, someone else saw him for more than a bumbling idiot. Someone finally didn’t underestimate him the way the rest of the ministry did.  

“Ben fatto (good job) , Terzo,” he smirked to himself. His little plan had worked; albeit, far sooner than expected, and just a little too well. 

He would be working hard this evening to forget what he’d just overheard...

Copia’s grip on your thighs around his hips tightened as he deepened your kiss, the leather of his gloves tightening and squeaking over his taught hands. You were sure he would leave bruises with how hard he held you, pulling you flush against him until your core pressed against his hardening length. You didn’t care though; any mark he left on you was like a badge of honour.  

“Dolcezza, what do you want from me, eh?” he pleaded, breathless as he trailed open mouthed kisses along your jaw and to your neck, never once disconnecting his lips along the way.   

“All of you, Cardinal...” you practically sang, “ please...”   

He hummed against your neck, lost entirely to his visceral need to devour you whole. You threaded your hands in his hair again, holding him tight to you as you let your head fall back, enjoying the kisses, the nips and bites, the suckling against your skin that bloomed in beautiful red and purple patches. 

Copia stood upright for a moment, biting at the leather on his right hand to free himself of his glove and spitting it to one side before he lay his palm on your cheek. He drank you in with his eyes, hooded and blown out with lust. You nuzzled into him instinctively searching out his touch, your lips finding his thumb to pepper kisses to the tip. It felt oddly intimate, more so than having his face buried between your thighs.  

No one ever saw the Cardinal – or any clergy member, for that matter – without their gloves. Their bare touch was saved for those they devoted it to, and here he was, baring himself to you . 

You pressed a final kiss to his thumb, before allowing your tongue to lave over the pad of it, your lips following to engulf his thumb in the warmth of your mouth. Copia hummed in front of you, his other hand squeezing your thigh tightly as he watched. 

“Cosa ho fatto per meritarti, tesoro? (What did I do to deserve you, sweetheart?)” he groaned, pushing his thumb to smear your spit over your lips, adoring the way they glistened for him in the low light. “I want to give you all of me,” he slid his hand to your neck, a wet trail left along your skin by the saliva still on his thumb, and gripped tight enough to send a wave of excitement through you. “Every last inch...” 

You whined for him again, as your body seemed to do of its own accord, and let him capture your lips in another kiss. You could no longer stand it – you needed him, like the moon needs the sun to glow brightly in the night.   

Hastily, you reached for the buttons of his cassock, making quick work of them until he could shrug out of the heavy red wool and let it fall to the floor. He helped you then, to remove his jacket underneath while you focussed on freeing his length.  

“A little messy, mi dispiace ,” he smirked, not sorry at all for the mess he’d made when he now knew how much that had turned you on. On another occasion, you would have liked to sink to your knees, clean him up and ready him for what came next but there was no time for that. Messy or not, you simply needed him.  

You didn’t even attempt to remove his pants, instead pushing them just a little further down his hips to allow you to reach into his underwear and take him in your hand. He hissed through his teeth like you’d scalded him, but instead rocking his hips to chase your touch. He had been correct, there was certainly a mess in there – one that coated your hand as you pulled his erection free and pumped along his length once, twice...  

“ Cazzo... (Fuck...)” he groaned.  

As your hand moved, you let your eyes wonder over his body, half exposed to you now. The physique you had dreamed of wasn’t far off, except he had a little more muscle definition than your imagination had given him credit for, particularly in the two lines that framed his abdomen, leading down to where your hand worked him over. But what caught your eye most of all, was the strange tattoo that sat over his heart, hidden by a thin layer of grey-speckled chest hair.  

Three 6’s, in a spiral, marked into his chest for eternity. Your free hand traced the black lines, fingertips grazing over it making him shiver at your touch. You didn’t ask about it, there was no need. He had kept it covered, hidden from knowledge of anyone else until right now – you were the only person he ever wanted to be this vulnerable to. Someday though, you might ask him about that...  

Copia moved to remove his other glove, letting it drop to the floor beside him with the rest of his garments. His red pants still clung to his thighs, and he struggled to draw his eyes away from where your hand stroked his cum-covered cock lazily.  

With one long, drawn out stroke back up his length, you lifted your hand – smeared in his mess – and pressed two of your fingers to your tongue, sucking the mess from them as you held his eye contact. His expression darkened, baring his teeth to you like an animal as he smirked, watching you lick and suck every last bit of his essence from your hand. A fire raged within you, like lava spewing through your veins at the quiet yet guttural groan he unleashed. 

In a flash, he was dragging you to the edge of the desk where you sat, both hands burrowing into the soft flesh of your hips. His hips slowly rocked against you, cock dragging through the plentiful juices you’d left for him. You hummed at the feeling of some contact, particularly the feeling of the veins and ridges of his hardness. You needed him inside you, filling you. You couldn’t drag this out anymore; it was like torture. Worse than torture.  

“Please, Cardinal...” you begged. And how could he deny you when you’d asked so nicely?  

“Kiss me, bella,” he huffed, his focus snatched away by the hypnotising sight of his cock sliding through your folds as he teased. It was as if he could only be diverted by your lips, that he couldn’t drag his attention away voluntarily.  

You grabbed him by the jaw with one hand, crushing your lips to his desperately. He growled again, the weeping head of his cock catching on your entrance and slowly, finally, he began to push inside...  

Your jaw went slack, kiss long forgotten as your eyes squeezed shut and you let out a staggered moan into his mouth.  

“ Sono qui, tesoro... (I’m here, sweetheart...)” he assured, holding your hips flush to him with a hand on the small of your back. He struggled to keep himself still, buried to the hilt and desperate to move, but you needed a moment. The feeling was overwhelming, stretched to the brink of pain and pleasure, dangling dangerously there as you got used to him.  

It was a true testament to his self-control and his character that he waited for you – as soon as his length had been buried in your tight, wet warmth he thought he was a goner. He figured that this was it – this was the glorious afterlife he’d been promised, that he prayed to Lucifer for day in, day out. 

Having you pressed against him grounded him as much as he needed. He watched the expression on your face, waiting for any sign of discomfort, of regret. He found none, because there was none to give. His lips hovered above yours, enjoying the warmth of your breath as you moaned for him.  

You were wearing too many clothes still for his liking; he wanted to be unbearably close to you, to feel the warmth of your skin on his, see you in all your glory. Still buried deep inside you, he used one of his hands to unbutton your habit, slowly revealing more flesh to him, kissing down your exposed chest until he could reach no further down.  

He was so gentle with you, so patient. He fought the urges to thrust into you, to take what he so desperately wanted from you. He simply wanted this to be perfect, and the thought had your eyes glazing with an adoration that went beyond a silly little wet dream. 

As your own way of signalling you were okay, you wanted more, you shimmied out of your now open habit, letting it pool around you where you sat, and pulled the straps of your bra down, unclipping it at the back.  

He watched your slow movements, tracing patterns on your skin with his fingertips. “ Più bella di quanto avrei mai potuto immaginare (more beautiful than I ever could have imagined),” he whispered, pressing his lips to your sternum, feeling your heart beating against him. If only he had known he felt this way, that it was more than just lust – if he had admitted that to himself... 

“ Copia ...” you whined, the first time you’d called him by his name all evening... His heart swelled, smiling against the swell of your breast between kisses. “ Per favore, h-ho bisogno d-di te... (Please, I need you...)” you stuttered in broken Italian, piecing together bits you had picked up in your time in the Ministry, but he knew – oh , he knew what you were saying.  

“ Qualsiasi cosa per te, amore mio (anything for you, my love),” he replied, sweetly pressing his lips to yours as he cradled your face in his hands. You wrapped your arms around his neck and sunk into him, only for him to begin moving his hips, slowly pulling back from where he had been buried deep within your warmth for a few minutes now at least... 

You mewled into his kiss, letting your tongues dance together so beautifully. It wasn’t until he had slid almost completely away from you that he pushed his way back in, gliding almost effortlessly in the slick you’d created for him. He built his movements over a few slow thrusts, gradually setting a pace that would never bring you to any kind of climax, but enough that the two of you were swirling in pleasure, able to enjoy your first moments anchored together.   

Copia’s lips never left yours, not to allow moans the freedom to escape or to allow his lungs the freedom to breathe. You were totally, utterly enamoured with each other.  

With every roll of his hips, you edged closer and closer to a point of begging for more, begging for a means to an end. He was struggling to keep himself composed, too scared to frighten you off if he unleashed what had built inside him for the last four weeks.  

“Copia, m-more... please...” you begged, finally separating the two of you to hazily look in his beautifully distinct eyes, show him the desperation in your own.  

“Amore, if I let go, I’m not sure I can control myself...” he warned, still forcing himself to stay at the pace he’d set.  

“Then lose yourself, Cardinal... Take me,” you offered yourself to him, trusting completely that he would never do anything you didn’t desperately want yourself.  

With no further encouragement needed, and a whisper of “ Cazzo, Sathanas perdonami ... (fuck, Sathanas forgive me...) ” he picked up his pace, effortlessly sliding into you over and over until the tops of his thighs were smacking into the underside of yours. The sounds ricocheted off the stone walls around you, a sinful mix of whines, pants, grunts and skin slapping on skin swirling in the air around you.  

The hands laying loose around his shoulders slid into his hair, pulling tight to press his forehead to yours. The desk beneath you groaned and creaked under the force, scraping along the floors with each hit. Your Cardinal’s cock filled you so deliciously, his hips angled to hit the back of your cervix and the top of your pussy where that tantalising sweet spot lay.  

“I wanted you for so long, amore mio...” he confessed, “so completely, like un patetico bastardo (a pathetic bastard).” He grit his teeth together, grunting like an animal as he fucked into you. He fought the urge to push you back down against the desk and lift your thighs up, spreading you open as much as possible for him, wanting to savour the closeness, the way he could feel your breath beading in condensation on his neck.  

“S-six months...” It was your turn to confess. “I’d b-been dreaming of... you... for six months...” you cried out as he slammed into you harder, fuelled by your admission.  

“ Bella , you’ll be the end of me, eh?” he chuckled between pants of breathlessness. “ Adesso sono tutto tuo (now I’m all yours...)”   

The coil in your abdomen wound impossibly tighter, threatening to fracture at any moment with the way he rolled his hips up into you, filling you deliciously with each pistoning motion. You felt the ripples from each violent thrust over and over against your clit where his body met yours, and the way his nails dug into your flesh, no doubt leaving bruises with deep crescent shapes imprinted in your skin.  

“C-can’t... hold...” you could barely string a sentence together in your current state, “ fuck...”   

“Cum for me, amore. Cum for your Cardinal, eh?” he roared. And well, you couldn’t stop yourself if you wanted to.  

Fire spread from your core through every nerve ending, spanning your entire body and you squealed and writhed against him. He never faltered, not missing a single beat as you shook and spilled around his cock. The way your walls fluttered around him, squeezed him impossibly tighter made every thrust a struggle, but he fought it – he couldn’t let you down now.  

He tensed his body, staving off another orgasm as long as he possibly could. He wanted you to revel in yours, wanted to watch you come undone on his cock like he’d dreamed of so many times. A litany of profanities and mumblings of his name spilled in incoherent babble as your limbs turned to jelly, barely clinging onto him to stay upright. If you were to fall back or forward, you were to choose forward, slumping against his sweaty chest, your head sitting where his neck met his shoulder.  

In your tired and overstimulated state, all you could do for him was mouth at the skin there, leaving sloppy kisses while your pussy continued to pulse around him until eventually, he gripped your chin tightly to lift your head and crash his lips to yours. He growled into your mouth, hips stuttering and slowing – he had cum inside you, needing to taste you again as he did so.  

With his final few thrusts, his spend leaked from around his cock, mixing with your own climax. He punctuated each thrust with a hum of satisfaction, until he couldn’t take the movement anymore, his cock too sensitive to continue. Still, he didn’t remove himself. Not yet...  

Somehow you both slumped together, keeping each other upright with your body weight alone. Your chests rose and fell together, trying to regulate your breathing to have an opportunity to speak at all. But honestly? The pair of you were happy in your blissful silence together for a moment. 

After a few minutes, it was you who spoke first. 

“I thought you would hate me...” you sighed against his shoulder. Copia’s brows furrowed together, and he stood himself up removing his softening length from you, holding you by your shoulders to get a good look at you.  

“Why would you ever think that, amore mio?” he asked, genuinely confused.  

“I thought I had overstepped, that night in the confessional. I thought you were ashamed, disgusted...” you drooped your head in sadness at the memory of him excusing you so abruptly that evening.  

“No... not with you, never you , tesoro,” he assured. “At myself, sì? I assumed you would despise how I took advant-” 

“Cardinal no, you didn’t... Sathanas, we’re both really stupid, aren’t we?” you chuckled, shaking your head at your antics.    “Idioti innamorati (idiots in love),” he laughed, until he realised what he’d actually just said – and then the colour drained from his face, his eyes blowing out wide in horror.  

You smiled softly, taking his hands from your shoulders and pulling him to take a step closer to you.     “Idioti innamorati,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to the end of his nose, still greyed from the smudging of his paints. Copia smiled sheepishly, a warmth spreading in his chest. He hadn’t felt like this before, much less ever had someone reciprocate his feelings. He felt strangely at peace, more so than he ever had.  

“Tesoro, promise me something, eh?” he asked. You nodded, willing him to continue. “Never hide from me again, okay? I damn near lost my mind.”  

You laughed at your idiocy. “I promise, Cardinal.” You leaned forward to press your lips against his, sweetly capturing the moment in a blissful kiss.  

When you pulled apart, he wordlessly helped to gather the garments that had been carelessly removed and dressed you again. You exchanged jokes about the messes you both were, how vile it felt to put your clothes back on with the feeling of your spend seeping from you and his still damp in his underwear... How truly ridiculous you both were.  

“Come, bella. I have a rather large shower cubicle I think we can both put to good use,” he flirted, pulling you to him by your waist now you were both fully dressed. You agreed, taking him by the hand and wondering through the corridors together back to the clergy suites.  

“Besides, I have something of yours I feel I must give back...” Copia laughed at himself, somehow no longer afraid to admit what he had been up to in your absence when he knew now just how depraved your own mind could be.  

Your mind ticked over at what on earth he could possibly mean, until it dawned on you... You had lost your fucking glove.  

“ You pervert!” you accused, smacking his chest playfully as you walked. “Maybe I don’t want it back, Lucifer knows what you’ve done with that thing...” The two of you giggled and flirted your way back, uncaring and unaware of any prying ears that may hear voices late into the night.  

And there were indeed prying ears, albeit accidentally, that perked up at the sound of voices outside his chambers... 

Terzo sat on his couch with a glass of vintage red in his hand, attempting to read a book to take his mind off the sinful noises he’d heard from his fratello earlier that evening. When he recognised the noises, he groaned to himself.  

‘Must they parade around to remind me of that?�� he thought to himself, rolling his eyes and standing to look through the peephole of his door. He saw the two of you waltzing through the dimly lit corridor, hand in hand like teenagers. The dopey look on his brother’s face was, to him, a wonderful sight; so hopelessly enamoured with you as you giggled and laughed together into the night.   

He had always hoped Copia would find someone like you – perhaps that’s why you were the one sister he never tried to bed, the one he felt was off limits to him. Maybe he had always known... but he was glad to see his fratellino acting like himself in your presence. Goofy, dopey Copia. Perhaps now, he could stop looking for approval from those he looked up to and looked down on him, and focus his efforts on simply being himself. After all, he had now found someone who liked him for who he was, not who he hoped to be .  

“Idioti innamorati,” he muttered to himself, chuckling at his win.  

Sì, his fratellino could be himself now – however pathetic he may be...   FIN

A/N: I hope you loved it as much as I loved writing this. This may be my first Ghost fic, but it will NOT be my last - so if you'd like to stick around for more, I'd be incredibly grateful. Send me some head canon requests or some drabble prompts - I'm MORE THAN HAPPY to do those for you. Endless love, Bee 🖤 TAG LIST: @melvilless @copiasprincipessa @siouxbauhaus @edensbuttercups @daughter0fcain @xnothingpersonalx @assassinprocrastinator @funfetti-furby @kadedoesthings @sunbleached-ghoul @gravehags @gbatesx @solluna00 @mae-mei-m @bolliancat @ghulehsin @socksandcr0cs @girlwithissuesworld @fallen-angelito @maccery @wjyndigo @thew0man @a-fools-circus @luxavier @saintedcooper @whatawonderfulexistence--blog @calamity-queen @eternaltiare @moongoore @wagooo @dolceterzo @emeritusing @letstalkstories @sacred-coffin @rainstorms-library @ryos-cruddy-side-blog @fruitmanstyles @relentlessmoon @cardinal-copingmechanism @werich @strawberriiblossoms @evepeve @portaltothevoid @casualghostfan @copias-juicebox @sl1psth3magg0t @enchantedbunny @pedro-pedrito-pascalito

[natti-ice]

Eddie Munson Blurb.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Warnings: just a few swears

Based on the line “This is not what I meant when I told you to fall for me”

Author’s Note: this is a reupload, I wrote this a while ago!

Reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated<3

You ran through the woods as fast as you could trying so hard not to get caught. You and Eddie were skipping 4th period and failed to hear the teacher walking down the hall, when you saw her you ran.

You and Eddie always seemed to get in trouble together, ever since you met you can't even count how many times you found yourself in the principals office.

Today you didn't want to get caught, your parents had been on your case about Eddie being a "bad influence" on you but you knew it wasn't true.

You and Eddie had been close since middle school, you did everything together. He was really the only person you could trust with your life.

Finally when you got far enough into the woods you stopped making sure you were in the clear.

"Man who knew English teachers could run so fast?" Eddie asked as he caught his breath

"Right" you agreed "you think he knew it was us?"

"Probably, I mean who else has this beautiful haircut" he said flipping his hair dramatically

"We're totally screwed" you laughed

"Yeah, but at least we can spend the afternoon together" Eddie said in a giddy voice

"Great" you faked annoyance

"C'mon there's a picnic table in here somewhere" he takes the lead but catch up quickly

The two of you walk in silence while in search of this picnic table, you two had such a strong bond that silence was never awkward. The only thing that could be heard was the leaves crunching under your shoes.

You walked in silence for a few more minutes before Eddie spoke up.

"So... did you think about what I told you?" He asked, a small amount of nervousness in his voice

"I have, honestly I don't know what to think, Eddie"

A week ago you two were hanging out at his house listening to music and just talking as usual. You were ranting about some upcoming assignment that you had to do and all the reasons you shouldn't do it.

Eddie was tentatively listening to you talk when he blurted it out

"You and I should fall in love" he immediately regretted saying it but it was too late

"What?" You didn't know whether or not he was joking

He wanted to play it off as a joke but he knew he had been holding this in for way too long.

"I mean, you and I are obviously perfect for each other. I honestly don't know how we're not together already" he nervously rubbed the back of his neck

This led to a long weird conversation about things you've never talked about, your real feelings for each other.

You always did have a special love for Eddie, he always knew what was wrong without you saying a word.

You told him that you need time to think about this, there were so many factors to this.

You hadn't discussed again till today.

"I honestly don't know why you're so scared, you know you love me" he teased

"Shut up" you playfully pushed him

"No" he pushed you back

You continued this back and forth, you two were always play fighting with each other. This time things got a little too rough.

He had got a way from you for a second and when you went to catch up, you tripped and fell over a fallen tree branch

"Shit" you said when you hit the ground

"Oh shit, Y/N are you okay?" Eddie asks as he ran over to help you up

"Yeah I'm fine, help me up please"

"This is not what I meant when I told you to fall for me" Eddie laughed as he pulled you up

"You're the worst" you joked

"You still love me though" he smirked putting his arm around you as you walked deeper into the woods.

One day you'll be able to tell him that you want to be together, but today is not that day.

[jhdyuiee]

Where are You?

✪ pairing: BIKER!yuta x GF!Y/N

✪ warnings/tags: smut!, angst, fluff, arguing/fighting (verbal not physical), make-up sex, name calling (brat, slut, baby, good girl, princess), breast play, oral (m & f receiving), multiple orgasms, riding & doggy, tit sex (?!), spanking, fingering, hair pulling, unprotected sex (only on pill), cum eating, rough yuta

✪ w.c: 2.4k

✪ a.n: hii!! this is 1 of 2 fics i release today 😆 ! yesterday was my sisters birthday so i wasnt able to upload but im back with 2 stories today yay! anyhow i hope yall enjoy this one && thank u all for the love and support on Mirrors 🤍

3:40 a.m

I turned to the clock once more, the minutes and hours passing with still no sign of him. Yuta promised to be home by midnight, but 3 hours later he’s still not here. His race should’ve finished by now. I tried calling and messaging him but no response. I was about to give him one last call, when the front door opened, keys dingling.

I rushed out and was met with the man. Yuta was taking off his leather jacket, his black tank underneath. His muscular body under the moonlight that shone from the windows made him look even more attractive.

“Where have you been?” I questioned.

He looked up, his eyes meeting mine. “Racing, where else?”

“I know that, but what took you so long? You said you would be back by midnight,” I said, slightly irritated.

“Johnny got into an altercation with the other team when they wouldn’t shut up about the win being rigged,” Yuta explained.

“Yet you couldn’t answer my messages or calls?”

“Look, Y/N I’m tired. Let’s talk tomorrow,” he said softly. However I wasn’t having it. Honestly, this wasn’t even the first time he’s ever done this. For the past months or so he’s been coming home late after his races. In which I have grown suspicious about.

I scoffed, “Sure you are.” Before he could let another word out, I went back to our bedroom. As much as I wanted to give him a peace of mind, I was too tired from staying up waiting for him.

“Y/N,” Yuta yelled when I sat down in the bed. He came storming in. The patience in him evaporated. “What the fuck is wrong, huh?”

I slightly flinched at his words. I looked up at him, “You, that’s what’s wrong.”

Yuta came closer, “Me? What the fuck have I done?”

“You never come home! You’re always back so late,” I said, my voice slightly rising.

He chuckled, “That’s it? Really?”

‘Why was he treating this as a joke? Laughing? Nothing was funny about this.’ I got up from the bed, “Yes, I’m your fucking girlfriend for fuck sakes and I barely even get to see your face nowadays.”

He took another step closer, “Sorry, I’ve been so busy I didn't know my girlfriend was lonely.” Yuta didn’t seem sorry at all. “Nice try at a lame apology,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Another step, “Why are you acting like such a brat right now?”

I didn’t respond, I couldn’t. Brat. The word sent a chill down my body, in a good way.

“Huh? What’s wrong now?” Step. “Oh, I got it now,” Yuta said with more enthusiasm. His face brightened up like everything clicked to his head.

He brought a hand down my body, placing it above the curve of my ass. I felt as he fondled it, until he went further down and cupped my sex. I gasp at the touch of his hand on my sex.

He leaned into my ear, “You’ve been needy haven’t you? Is that why you’re so upset?” His hand separated from me, he separated from me. He stood there looking at me as I began to lustfully yearn for his touch.

“Answer my question baby.”

Fuck. He was right. I missed his touch, his kisses, his praises, his cock, his entire being.

“Y-Yes. I missed you so much Yuta.”

He smirked, coming back to me. “Sorry for that princess, I’ve been rather neglectful of you. I’m sorry,” he said, kissing down my neck until he reached my mouth.

His tongue entered my mouth, playing with mine. Our kiss was intense, filled with want. This was something not only I, but what we both needed. Our kiss deepened even more until I ended up back on the bed on Yuta’s lap.

His hands roamed over my back in delicate touches, until they ended up back on my ass. I moaned into our kiss when he smacked it. Soon, Yuta pulled away from the kiss—our saliva connecting—and stared at me with lustful eyes, eyes of an animal ready to pounce on its prey.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded, and so I did. He began unbuckling his belt, his cock springing out. It was already hard, leaking with pre-cum. “Suck.”

I looked up, his hand reaching to grab my hair, pulling me closer to his cock. I sucked in a breath, I wanted nothing more but to get him inside my mouth.

“I don’t have all day,” he reminded me.

I started kissing his cock, tip to base. Then licking him as slowly as possible, making him year for more. “Fuck. You- take it like you always do slut.”

I decided to stop teasing him and took his cock inside my mouth. He’s too big. The tears pooled in my eyes quickly. “Shit. That’s my girl, taking me so well,” he groaned when he felt the sensation of my moans around his cock. His hand grabbed a fistful of my hair and started bobbing my head up and down until he relaxed his grip on my hair, allowing me to take him out. I went into a fit of coughing, and my jaw was starting to hurt.

“Done already?” Yuta teased. I glared at him, “You nearly choked me with your fucking dick.” He laughed at my statement. “Take off your clothes,” he said, when he finished laughing.

One by one my clothes were gone. His hands came in contact with my breast, fondling them and pinching my nipples.

“Such pretty tits,” he said. Then next thing I knew his cock laid rested in between them. He squeezed them together as he thrusted in between them, his pre-cum allowing easier movement. The more he thrusted, the harder and faster he went.

Yuta fucked my tits until the ropes of his cum painted my face and tits. He swiped a finger over some cum that splattered on my face, bringing it to my mouth. I swallowed every single drop he gave me.

“Open up your mouth princess,” he said, when I finished taking in his cum. I opened it, and even stuck my tongue out. With another movement his cock buried itself in my mouth again. This time though he didn’t move me, so I started bobbing my head up and down his shaft, my hand following along. I swirled my tongue around his tip, earning a moan from him.

“Just like that,” he said, stroking my hair. He was close again, so I continued my movements on his cock. Finally then he exploded inside my mouth, the white ropes of his cum filling up my mouth once more. He slid his cock out and gathered the cum that had slipped past my lips, and pushed it back in.

“Such a good girl,” he said proudly. “Swallowed every drop right?”

I nodded, “Please… I need you, I want to cum too.” I pleaded with the man, I was so soaked, I felt it on my legs and thighs.

“Come up here then baby, lay down for me,” he said, patting the bed. “I’ll take care of you.”

I did as he said, laying down while he got on top of me. He spread my legs apart, a smile appearing on his face. His fingers slid down my cunt at a slow pace. He then brought them to his mouth, licking them clean. Yuta let out a satisfied groan, “Always tasting so good.”

“Please,” I whimpered.

He looked at me, descending in between my legs. He spread them apart, and placed them on top of his shoulders. “Fuck, you’re leaking everywhere baby. Sorry, I neglected you for so long, but don’t worry because we’ll take care of this,” he said, kissing my clit.

His tongue then darted out, licking a strip up and down my cunt, repeating it over and over. I squirmed at his touch. He drank up all my juices like a starved man, a man deprived of water. I gripped onto his hair, pushing him a little further in.

“Fu-Fuck right there,” I moaned, when his wet muscle intruded inside my cunt. He added to the intensity when he brought his thumb and began circling my sensitive clit. I was close to cumming, just a little more. “I’m gonna cu-cum!”

Yuta’s tongue went out, causing the sensation to be lost. Fuck. “Then cum baby, you deserve it, don't ya?” Soon his fingers came to replace his tongue, plunging in and out of my cunt while his tongue now lapped and played around with my clit. Yes this was what I needed. A couple more thrusts from his fingers, and I came all over his arm. My chest heaving, trying to catch some oxygen. It was too good.

“Good job baby,” Yuta said, kissing my temple. “You ready now?” he asked.

“Ye-Yes please put it inside.”

“Get on all fours then,” he says. I flipped over, my hands and knees on the bed, awaiting him. I felt as his hand fondled the flesh of my ass, before he landed a hard smack on it. I yelped, not expecting that. I turned back, and was met with Yuta stroking his cock while looking at my drenched cunt. He moved in closer, I felt as his tip touched my cunt.

“So tight, so wet. You feel so fucking good,” Yuta muttered, as he pushed further inside me. I felt the delicious stretch of his cock inside my pussy, and how it reached me deeply inside.

Once he was all in he wasted no time. Yuta thrusted into me like a wild beast, going at an uncontrollable speed and pace. His cock was so deep within me that I felt so full already. The sound of our skin slapping and my moans echoed in the room. I turned my head back, and was met with Yuta’s lustful eyes. He looked so drunk of pleasure.

The grip on my hips was sure to show up bruised tomorrow. My eyes rolled back when his tip kissed my g-spot. We just started but I was already so close to cuming.

Suddenly Yuta’s hand tugged on my hair roughly as he continued his excruciating pace. My tongue lolled out, he took it as an opportunity to spit in my mouth. I swallowed it unconsciously, I was too high on the pleasure to comprehend what I was doing.

“Such a good slut,” he said, letting the grip on my hair go and thrusted even harder. His hand once again came in contact with my clit, pinching it until I finally came undone. My orgasm passed through me. I clenched around his cock, erupting in groans from him. “I’m cumming,” he said and unleashed once again. His hot white cum painting my walls white this time.

I barely had time to recover before he said, “Ride me.” I looked over and Yuta was already head against the headboard awaiting for me, his cock still hard. I weakly crawled over, placing myself on top of him. I grabbed his cock, and pushed myself down as his cock entered me once more.

Once I was in I began moving. Up and down, his hands guiding my hips. Slow, then fast, slow, then fast, slow, then fast. I kept this pace up, but it began to feel not enough. So I started bouncing on him even fast, my hands gripping his shoulders. I kissed his lips, melting into the pleasure he was giving me.

I didn’t stop, until I began growing tired. “Let me help you,” he says. Yuta took over, using the grip on my hips to plunge into me. My tits bounced all over his face, until he no longer could resist the temptation and took one in his mouth. He sucked on my breast, then swirled and flickered my nipple. I was approaching my next orgasm, and clenched around him. He detached himself from my nipple with a pop, “Cum for me baby.”

One thrust, then two, and three. The knot in my stomach unleashed, I came once again on his cock once more. But it didn’t stop there, Yuta had yet to cum. Luckily it didn’t take long. Yuta came after a few more thrusts, I probably milked him dry today.

We stayed in that position for a while, trying to catch our breaths. Yuta hugged and soothed me, gently kissing me. “Let’s get us cleaned up,” he said after a while. He walked us over to our bathroom, placing me on the tub as he ran the water. I was growing drowsy, the sex had tired me.

Once the water was done running, he placed me inside and joined in. I didn’t know what happened afterwards as my eyes shut closed, falling into a deep slumber.

the next morning.

I tried shuffling to turn the other way, but something heavy was preventing me from doing so. I stirred my eyes, trying to get them to focus. Once they came into focus the sight in front of me made me widen my eyes.

Yuta lying beside me…

Typically the guy would be gone by now. ‘Was he running late?’ I thought. I shook him lightly, softly repeating his name. His eyes stirred, until they finally opened. He smiled.

Yuta smiling in the morning?!

No yeah perhaps I was still dreaming. I pinched myself, and when I felt the pain I knew this wasn’t a dream.

I finally decided to speak up, “What are you doing here? You’re usually gone by now.

He looked at me, his face softened. “I’m sorry Y/N,” he said, pulling me even closer. His embrace felt so warm and comforting.

“I’m sorry I’ve been acting like an asshole lately. I should’ve been prioritizing you over anything, you didn’t deserve that baby.”

I looked at him, my eyes watering. “Don’t cry Y/N, it aches my heart,” he said, wiping the tears that had started falling down my face.

“I love you so much. You are the most beautiful woman in this world, and with the most beautiful soul too. I am so very lucky to have you Y/N.”

Oh fuck. His words made for more tears to come streaming down my face.

“I love you Yuta, I love you so very much. Thank you for your apology, Thank you for understanding. I love you,” I said, as I caressed his cheek.

“I love you so much more.”

© jhdyuiee

24.03.26

[jals-stuff]

OKOK i just wanted to make sure you didn’t have too many before requesting ^-^

Could you do an Orter one shot of him being caught showing affection to his lover, like maybe by his brother wirth :3 I just need soft Orter so bad!!

Of course, no worries~

I like angst better but a bit of fluff from time to time is definitely nice! There are a lot of requests going on right now for some reason

word count: 1.2k

note: not proofread and written with 0 hours of sleep, sorry about any typos and such, I hope you'll like it

Take a break!

It's been a week since Orter’s workload started skyrocketing and as much as he loved you, he also needed to take care of his work. Of course, being a Divine Visionary comes with intriguing, interesting missions, amazing adventures, new landscapes to explore… but good gods, the unending amount of paperwork...

He's been coming home late for a while now and there were even times when he slept in his office so he could start filling his workload first thing in the morning. Quite honestly, it pissed you off.

You weren't, per se, mad at Orter, but at the situation; he was just accepting it without any complaints and it made you sick to know that the love of your life was working himself to exhaustion everyday.

Plus you really missed him a lot. The only breaks he’d take during the day are the few minutes he gives himself to call you, check on you and apologise in advance for not coming home that night.

Since Orter wasn't going to come to you, you decided you'd come to him!

You entered the immense building and looked around the entrance hall for a minute before you were met with Ryoh’s usual sparkling expression and the Magia Lupus. You took a few steps towards him and gave a polite smile.

“Good day, Ryoh, what's happening here?”

“Oh, hello (Y/N), nothing much. Bless Minister just wants to see the Lang students who were involved in the puppets incident.”

He then eyed you for a second, taking note of the basket you were carrying and your worried expression. A chuckle escaped him and he waved at you to follow him.

“I’m guessing you came to see Orter, am I right? He's been working a lot,” Ryoh sighs as he leads you to your man’s office. “I hope you'll manage to help him take a break.”

You stood there for a bit before knocking on his door and entering when he allowed you to. He was still looking at his paperwork when you entered, and didn't notice who was paying him a visit.

You gently put the basket down on top of his desk and leaned forwards. “Special delivery today.”

He looked up and his expression immediately softened, though he did look kind of rough with such messy hair and dark undereyes. You walked around his desk and he stood up, his arms wrapping comfortably around your figure as he gave your forehead a kiss.

“What brings you here, darling? Is everything alright?”

You held him harder against you and sighed with a nod. Of course now it was fine, you had missed his embrace so so much, and you could tell he did too.

“Everything’s alright now. I just miss you a lot, you know?”

He gave a soft sigh as one of his hands came to caress the back of your head gently in an attempt to comfort you. Tightening his arms slightly around you, he leaned forwards and gave your lips a gentle kiss.

“I miss you too, dear, but I have a lot of work here as you can see.”

Disappointed but not surprised. You turned your mouth into a pout and groaned in frustration as you nuzzled your head against his chest. It wasn't his fault but… just… ugh! You pulled away from the hug and took a few biscuits and a warm thermos of coffee out of your basket, placing them in front of him.

“I know… but you need to take a little break now. Please, for me?”

He sighed with a very faint, barely visible smile. Had he not been your lover, you would've thought it was just his usual expression, but with time, you had learned to recognise the way he smiles. Orter couldn't say no to your plea and so he sat back down and allowed himself to stop working for a bit.

“May I stay with you while you work, love? I promise I won't interrupt.” You asked, looking at him like a lost puppy, begging to be taken home. Still sitting, he extended an arm for you to come closer to him, only to suddenly pull you in his lap when you did.

Your side was against his chest and he had one of his arms behind your back, gently caressing it as he pressed yet another kiss on your forehead. With a soft exhale, you nuzzled your face into his neck as he kept silently working and occasionally sipping on the coffee you'd brought him.

And just as you promised, you were silent, and didn't interrupt his work even once. He would occasionally look at your face and ask if you're comfortably seated, or rest his head against yours while he thinks.

He finished one of his unending files and closed it, stretching his arms and allowing himself to breathe for a little while, looking down at you with a soft, relaxed expression; a contrast to his exhausted appearance earlier.

“Aren't you exhausted?” You asked with a hint of worry as you ran your hand through his hair to try and make him look less feral. He placed his fingers on your cheek and raised his eyebrows at you.

“I am. But I have the best vitamins to keep me going.”

And without warning he just pressed his lips on yours, this time a little harder than before as you kissed back with your arms around his neck. As soon as the kiss was over, he gave you another one, and another one, and he kissed his way down your jaw while his hand affectionately rubbed your side.

You kissed back more passionately and sighed softly into his lips when his door shot open, a tall figure wearing a Lang coat barging in. Now of all times.

“I thought the puppet incident had been taken care of already, why am I still- what.”

You had nothing against Wirth; he was a rather kind young man when you weren't on his bad side, but right now you wanted to rip his head off. Orter’s lips left yours and it infuriated you. His brother was absolutely not used to this sort of display, and he stood there, flabbergasted.

Of course, it was just some innocent cuddling because you and him missed each other a lot when he was at work but from someone else's perspective… His hair was messy, his tie heavily needed to be fixed and his clothes hadn't been ironed in a while, so…

“I’ll just- um. Yeah.”

Wirth looked like he had seen a ghost and although it was obvious what he thought he had interrupted, Orter chose not to deny or explain.

“Yes, it would be preferable.” Orter said, not even sparing a glance at his brother, his eyes still deeply staring into yours. You would've thought he'd be embarrassed- and he was, but his physical need to hold you and cover you in kisses took over.

He brought your head closer to his and kissed you again, deeply as he sighed into your mouth and you couldn't help but absolutely fold and kiss back again. Wirth didn't know if he should be glad for him or terrified with how hungry his brother looked at the moment.

One thing was certain, he took the right decision when he left, because a few minutes later, you were laid on top of Orter's desk like some kind of homework he was just about to do.

[mixtape-racha]

YAYYYYYY 100 followersssss :) im so happy for youuuuu :)))))

okay, here is my request... hehe, im suchhh a sucker for hurt comfort and I loveeee fem 9th member au's. but like not smut or like fwb, just like a really juicy story y'know? I haven't been able to find any of those two categories combined tho, especially into like a longer fic, like it's always in the hundreds (I would love it if it was a little longer, no pressure tho :). literally, anything works, from some kinda mess up on stage to maybe you messing up a relationship w a member??? idk. I'm letting ur thoughts run wild here... THANK YOU AND CONGRATSSSS

(im sorry im really vague in requests lol)

YAYYYY THO IM LIKE REALLYYYY PROUD OF YOU<<<3333 LOV U BB KEEP DOING WHAT YOU DOOOO

thank you so much my lovely bae!! ilysm and i hope i did this request justice!! i kind of went off on a tangent and got carried away with the plot waaa &lt;3

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

sorry seems to be the hardest word

pairing: ot8 x fem!9th member!reader

warnings: angst, hurt comfort, reader snapping at the members, reader being physically unwell, fluff at the end

words: 2.29k

everything was going wrong today, and you truly meant every. fucking. thing.

somehow, you had managed to turn your alarm off the night before (probably because you fell asleep while on your phone, accidentally calling your mom in you sleep in the process), and none of the guys took the initiative to wake you up when they got up.

okay, sure, you couldn’t blame them entirely. you were a grown woman, and you could look after yourself. but weren’t you supposed to be a team? eight other people surrounding you, and none of them thought to check on you? especially when you were usually up and alert before they were? no, instead they were all out the door without even knocking to see if you were feeling okay. so much for being your brothers and best friends.

so god forbid, you were late this morning. you managed to turn up at the company for your vocal lessons only ten minute late, but it felt awful as you’d never been late before. you were so incredibly lucky to get the opportunity to debut with skz, especially joining the group later in their career and being the only girl. you wanted to do everything perfectly to show that you deserved to be where you were, and with the way today was shaping out you were so disappointed with yourself.

but then - it got worse. you, in your rush to leave the dorms, had forgotten your sheet music, leaving your vocal teacher to be short and snappy with you. yeah, you brought it up on your phone instead, but she was strict, and a firm believer in “good old-fashioned pen and paper over your silly little radio devices nowadays”. her attitude towards you for the remainder of your lesson affected you more than you liked to admit - excusing yourself to the bathroom to have a little cry before you headed to the studio.

for some reason, none of your schedules were properly coordinated today, leaving jisung to be the one in the studio with you - rather than chan, like usual -  while you recorded your lines for the demos to be sent to the company later in the month, when you’d decide the songs for the new album you had upcoming later in the year.

jisung was always the nicest to you, especially when he could tell you were having a rough day - you were both very alike in that sense, very attentive towards each other as if you could tell what the other was feeling. 

however, it seemed today that something had crawled up his ass and died. he was almost as snappy as your vocal teacher, and you were quite frankly sick of it. you kept messing up your lines; whether from the stress or the ache building in your throat (god you hoped you weren’t getting sick), you weren’t sure. but clearly, jisung wouldn’t stand for it.

“honestly, (y/n), you might as well just call it a day and come back to this with chan-hyung another day. i need to get on with other stuff.” he sighed, dismissively, as you bit back the tears fighting to escape your eyes. he wouldn’t even look at you, and your stomach was doing somersaults. was he really that mad? surely he could see how hard you were trying.

but instead of confronting him, you just grabbed your belongings and left after silently agreeing. no one answered your message on the group chat when you asked if anyone was down to get lunch together, even though you could see basically everyone had read it, so you retreated to the canteen alone before you had to go to practice with the boys.

as the ache in your throat spread to your joints, fatigue plaguing you, you trudged up to the practice room for rehearsals with the boys. you were learning a new dance - in fact, the already chosen title track for the new album, and deep down you were dreading it. it was more difficult than you had imagined, and definitely aimed more towards moves the boys could do compared to you. you loved the boys, but sometimes you felt like they forgot that men and women’s bodies worked differently.

surprisingly, you weren’t the last to arrive, squashing your fear of another thing going wrong.

but just as soon as practice began, your fear was reawakened. the ache in your joints was making the dance more difficult for you to execute, and you could feel the annoyance radiating off of minho’s body even if he wouldn’t admit it. you stumbled a few times, almost knocking into felix, who looked at you more frustrated than concerned.

“seriously, (n/n), what’s going on? it’s really not that hard. get your head in the game.”

you huffed, shaking out your limbs and telling minho to start the track again. maybe if you ignored your surroundings, ignored how you were feeling, then things would be easier. you could block out minho’s harsh criticisms - he was probably just tired. you could block out everything, knowing the boys were suffering just as much as you lately. but when the music stopped again, and everyone was talking at you, voice after voice lapping over each other you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“shut the fuck up! shut up, shut up, shut up! give me a fucking break, i’m trying my hardest!”

you honestly didn’t mean to snap, you were just so overwhelmed and couldn’t take anymore. when chan tried to put a comforting hand on your shoulder, you flung it off, all your annoyance and stress from the day building up at once.

“don’t fucking touch me. i don’t need your pity, i don’t need you to tell me that i don’t know how to do my job well enough. this is the fucking worst day of my life and you all keep making it worse!”

every fiber of your being was telling you to stop, to be reasonable, but it was like your mouth was making its own decisions. you couldn’t tell which member it was, but you were interrupting the gentle call of your name before you could even control it.

“and no, before any of you try to be funny, i’m not on my period,” you sneered, anger bubbling under your skin as you saw jisung look away sheepishly. “i’m just sick of feeling like i have to fight to prove i’m good enough, like i’m not one of you guys yet. we’re supposed to be a team, but all day i’ve been pushed to the side and treated like i don’t matter. i’m sick of it!”

you breathed heavily, grabbing your duffle bag from the side of the room and storming towards the door.

“i’m staying with yeji tonight, leave me the fuck alone.”

was all you said before leaving the boys stood in shock, confused as to why you were acting like you hated them.

regrettably, the minute you found yourself in yeji’s dorm and explained your day to her, you knew you were in the wrong. how could you let yourself treat your best friends that way? they didn’t deserve that, and you would be most understanding if they never forgave you. it was only when the throb in your head and ache in your joints became too much that you finally allowed yourself to sleep.

chan’s apology

luckily, you and the boys were granted a week off a while ago, and today marked the first day of that week. however, knowing chris he was probably still hauled up in the studio from the night before. it was around 3am (yeji shouldn’t have let you crash so early, your sleep schedule was going to be manic), so you pulled yourself together before making the decision to go visit him.

he may not even want to see you after your little outburst, but you could still try.

you stopped by the convenience store on your way to the studio, grabbing some snacks and some drinks just to be on the safe side. carefully checking the group chat, you saw that changbin was still in the studio with chan and you hoped you could get there before he left - it might be easier to kill two birds with one stone. you were just glad you bought way too much food for just two people.

you smiled politely, bowing at the security guard as he let you into the building, heart thumping in your ears as you carefully traced the steps to chan’s studio.

when you finally approached the door, you had to take a minute to prepare yourself to knock. you heard chan’s voice mumbling behind the door once you did, nervously waiting until he came and opened it.

he looked surprised to see you, frozen for a moment before quickly ushering you in and sitting you on the couch next to changbin. almost in instinct, changbin’s arm was slung around your shoulder - something he always did when you were close by, relishing in the fact he wasn’t the shortest in the group anymore.

you sheepishly held out the bag containing all the goodies you got at the convenience store to chan, a small smile on your face when he took it.

“got you some snacks.. kind of guessed you might have forgotten to eat.” your voice was quiet, ashamed. you just hoped they wouldn’t hold your outburst against you.

but when chan grinned, you knew he could never be mad at you for long.

“we were worried about you, y’know? that’s why jisung let you go early today - something seemed off and we didn’t want you to get too overwhelmed.” changbin said from next to you, the hand on your shoulder rubbing it comfortingly. 

you couldn’t stop the tears from welling up behind your eyes again, but bit them back in fear they’d think you were looking for sympathy.

“i– i’m so sorry. i’ve just had an awful day, and i feel like shit, but that doesn’t excuse my actions, and i shouldn’t have snapped at you all - you couldn’t have known, and its not your fault.”

you explained why your day had been so bad to them (after some pushing from chan), and how you were feeling physically, causing changbin to look at you with great worry.

they indulged in a small cuddle session, feasting on the snacks you provided while they tried to help cheer you up. and honestly, it worked, just talking through how you were feeling, and gettin constructive feedback rather than just a shoulder to lean on was relieving.

you couldn’t apologize to them more, feeling so ashamed of your actions, but they were quick to reassure you it was okay - everyone had bad days, you were only human after all. you just needed to work on your communication a little bit.

when you finally got ready to head back to the dorm at 5am, you felt better than you had in a long time, actually.

apology numbers one and two: complete.

but when you arrived back at the dorm, head peacefully resting on changbin’s shoulder, what you weren’t expecting to walk into was what you all called a “cuddle pool” - the sofa bed pulled out, covered with pillows and blankets - and a spot waiting for you between felix and seungmin.

your eyes watered at the expectant faces of your soul-brothers, small sobs leaving your lips as your shoulders shook. god, the day had taken a toll on you - you couldn’t remember the last time you cried in front of the boys.

it was only then that minho - who you hadn’t seen standing by the door - scooped you into a hug.

“oh, angel,” he frowned, a hand pressed to your forehead. “you’re burning up. is that why you felt so bad earlier?”

words seemed to fail you, and all you could do was nod as your grip on his sweater tightened. it certainly wouldn’t be the first time you got sick from stress, but you hated being sick. you hated feeling out of control in your own body, and despised being doted on like you were unable. however, this time… you think you could let it slide. you just needed your boys close by right now.

they seemed to enjoy looking after you, and you felt you owed them that after the situation in the practice room.

minho was quick to place on you on the couch, felix and seungmin suffocating you in a bone-crushing hug. jisung handed you the tv remote, saying you could choose to watch whatever you wanted, and that everyone would be having a slumber party in the living room until you felt better.

minho and chan had gone to make you some chicken noodle soup - using felix’s mom’s recipe, which was known for being a lifesaver in your dorm. jeongin was quick to grab you your comfort plushie, taking his place on the floor by your feet - the two of you were 100% keen on physical affection, but having him close by helped.

within merely an hour, all nine of you were curled up, an animated disney movie playing, with soup and mugs of tea being passed around the room. it was nice, and it felt so good to have your boys so close and willing to help you.

you definitely took on changbin’s mention of needing to improve on communication, wanting nothing more than to improve yourself for the little family you had build around you. and yeah you were sick, and they would probably get sick too by being in such close proximity to you, but that was a problem for another day. you’d just return the favor of looking after them.

you just knew you were lucky to have them.

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