#i did get a short nap this afternoon but it did not help much

[naomiknight-17]

It's 1 AM and it's been a long day and I'm tired but we had to clean the bedsheets after the dryer vent repair was done cuz they had to do work in the ceiling and we used my sheet as a dust cover to protect some stuff so. You know. It got dusty

I wanna go to bed, but I have to wait for my sheet to be cleaned and dry, and it is in the dryer rn

So I hope the dryer vent repair worked to make our slow-dryer (and other related problems) better so my sheet we had to use as a dust cover during the repair will dry quickly so I can go to bed because I have been up since 8 AM due to the dryer vent repair

[foxy-eva]

Afternoon Delight

Summary: You didn’t have sleep in mind when you asked Spencer to take a nap with you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Category: Smut, Fluff

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) Softdom!Spencer, praising, teasing, grinding, handjob, fingering, rough sex, unprotected penetrative sex

Word count: 2.1k

Masterlist

With a dramatic sigh you closed the laptop in front of you and stretched your arms over your head, announcing, “I need a break!”

Spencer looked up from his book to find your eyes. “Study breaks are very important. You’ll be able to focus a lot better afterwards,” he explained. “Do you want coffee?” 

“No,” you said with a smirk forming on your face. “I wanna go lie down with you.”

Spencer obviously did not get the hint and declined, “I’m not tired but you can take a nap if you want.” 

You got up from your desk to move over to the couch, sitting down right beside your boyfriend. In an instant you could feel the heat radiating from his body. It was almost ridiculous how much you craved his nearness, even after many months of spending most nights together. There was just something about him that almost drove you insane. 

“Did you know that short naps are highly efficient and can help improve productivity. You just have to make sure not to sleep for too long,” he explained in his usual rambling manner. He was still oblivious about your true intentions.

“Uh-huh,” you nodded and winked at him. “What if I took my clothes off for my nap?”

Spencer raised his eyebrows and thought about it for a split second. “Some studies suggest that sleeping naked can have a positive effect on your sleep quality. But knowing you, I’d assume you would get too cold to be comfortable.” 

“So, would you help me get warm?” You chirped, hoping that he’d finally understand what you wanted. 

His eyebrows furrowed at your question, obviously confused about what you were talking about. “I would,” he said, “but it’s probably easier if you just wore clothes, like you usually do when you sleep.”

Usually it didn’t take this long for Spencer to understand when you wanted him. He’d catch onto your playful tone or simply read your body language. He apparently really took your word for it when you told him earlier that you were determined to get your work done with zero distractions. 

But even being in the same room as Spencer was more distracting than you could have ever imagined. 

“Can I tell you a secret,” you snickered as you moved even closer to him. “I’m not really tired.”

The poor doctor looked at you more puzzled than ever. “Then why would you want to take a nap?”

There was barely any space between the two of you left at this point. It still took him a few more seconds to interpret your mischievous grin correctly. 

“Oh!” He laughed. “You want to sleep with me.”

“Wow, I really need to work on my seduction skills,” you giggled while climbing into Spencer’s lap. 

“You’re usually pretty good at it,” he chuckled.

He smiled against your lips when your mouths finally met. With more fervor than you had anticipated he started kissing you, while his hands pulled your hips even closer against his body. His tongue begged for entrance, joining yours in a dance that let heat rush through your entire body. 

It only took a few more moments until you felt a familiar hardness straining against his pants. 

You started to rock your hips ever so slightly while breathing against his lips, “Seems like it’s working.”

Your boyfriend leaned back to look at you. One of his hands found your face and his fingertips began tracing along your cheek. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he cooed. “How could I ever refuse you anything?” 

The hunger in his eyes only grew when a timid sigh fell from your lips. He watched intently as you kept grinding against him while the tension in your body only grew. His hardness twitched against your clothed core as you used his body for your own pleasure. 

“So needy,” he purred as he watched you moving in his lap.

The friction your motions created was making you desperate but it wasn’t enough for you. Spencer knew that, too. He still wanted to see how long it would take you to start begging for him. 

His fingertips were buried into the supple flesh of your hips, keeping you close to him as you started to struggle to keep moving. With your face buried into his neck, he could feel your hot, heavy breath against his skin. 

It was too much and not enough for you at the same time. The lace of your underwear was soaked with your essence at this point. You felt like you might combust if you didn’t find release anytime soon. 

“Please,” you finally whispered into his ear, desperate for him to take over. 

“What is it, my sweet girl?” He chuckled as he leaned back to find your eyes. “What do you need?”

The smirk on his face revealed that he knew exactly what you needed. He just wanted to hear you say it. 

“Please… I need you,” you begged. 

He found your lips in a kiss, soft and sweet like a silent promise to always take care of you. When he motioned for you to get off his lap, you whined at the loss of pressure against your center. 

“I know, love,” he cooed. “Just be patient for me.”

Your legs felt weak when you stood in front of him, waiting for his next move. He got up from the couch and took your hand, leading you to the bedroom, where he slowly began undressing you. The second your bra dropped to the floor, his fingers began toying with your nipples. His thumbs brushed over your hardened peaks while he kissed you again. 

You really tried to be good for him while he took care of you but it became almost too much. You took a few steps back to lean against the closest wall, your knees suddenly couldn’t be trusted to hold you upright anymore. Spencer followed without a comment, clearly enjoying witnessing your desperation. 

His hands were still on your breasts, caressing them just the way he knew you liked. When his palms finally descended further down your body, a relieved sigh fell from your lips. He removed the remaining pieces of clothing until you stood completely nude in front of him. 

“You’re such a good girl,” he murmured against your neck. “So patient with me.” 

Hearing his praise aroused you even more and you could feel your desire dripping down your inner thighs. You knew it wouldn’t be long now until he’d let you feel him. He took a step back to let his eyes roam over your body while he undid the buttons of his shirt. 

“You’re so handsome,” you mumbled and noticed a rosy shade spreading over his cheeks as he kept undressing.

When he finally revealed his body to you, you could barely take your eyes off him. Closing the distance once more, your hand dared to make contact with his cock. Spencer’s eyes widened at your touch and it became obvious that he struggled to keep up his demeanor. He would never admit it but he was just as desperate as you were. 

His hardness felt hot and heavy against your palm and his tip was already leaking when you began moving your hand. Spencer’s breath hitched right before a moan escaped his throat, a sound so sinful it almost drove you insane. He indulged in the sensation a few more moments before he took over the situation once more. 

“Get on the bed,” he demanded with a firm tone and you did as he said. 

However, when you lay down on the mattress he shook his head. “No, I want you on your knees.”

You didn’t need further instruction to know exactly how he wanted you. You turned around,  got on your knees and bent over, your forearms pressing into the mattress. Heat rushed to your face when you took in the position he wanted you in, aware of the view you gave him. 

He stood right behind you when he purred, “So pretty. I love seeing you like this.” 

His hand made contact with your backside, grabbing your flesh before descending down to your cunt. Your glistening folds were so sensitive that your entire body trembled at the sudden contact. He let his fingertips glide through your slit before focussing on your already swollen nub. 

“You’re dripping wet and I have barely touched you.”

You were already too far gone to even respond to that. A fit of moans fell from your lips and you buried your face into the sheets to stifle the sounds. Spencer’s free hand found your hair and gently tugged on it to turn your head. 

“Don’t hide those beautiful moans from me. I want to hear what I do to you.” 

When he finally entered you with two of his fingers, you couldn’t help but grind your hips back against his hand. He curled his digits inside you, pushing against your walls to finally help you fall over the edge. As much as you loved feeling his fingers inside of you, you were still desperate to feel more of him. 

You needed all of him. It was impossible to wait any longer. 

“Please,” you pleaded once more. “Please, Spencer.” 

“What do you need, my love?” This time his question seemed genuine. 

“I need you,” you mumbled. “Need you inside me.” 

“I am inside you,” he teased with a playful tone in his voice. 

“No,” you whined. “I need your cock!” 

The crudeness of your words shocked and excited the both of you at the same time. Spencer finally gave in, granting you what you had been begging for all along. He removed his hand and positioned himself behind you before he let his tip glide through your folds to cover himself with your arousal. 

Then, without another warning, he pushed into you with one swift motion. He didn’t give you time to adjust to the intrusion, instead he instantly began fucking you with a ruthless pace. His hands gripped your hips to keep you in place. His fingertips were buried into your skin so deeply, you were sure to find bruises tomorrow.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned. “Feels so good.” 

He gave you exactly what you needed, pushing into you over and over again until your mind was completely blank. You couldn’t think about anything but him, how he handled your body, how he filled you out so deliciously, how only him could make you feel so good. The pressure inside you grew as the room filled with your moans and the filthy sounds of your bodies colliding. 

“You love it when I take you from behind, don’t you my sweet girl?” 

“Yes!” you cried as you started dancing along the brink of euphoria. Even though you could barely take his forceful thrusts, you still wanted more. “Harder!” 

The entire bed shook under the force of his motions until he felt your walls tighten around him. With a few more skillful strokes he pushed you over the edge, feeling you pulsing around his erection as your orgasm washed over you. Spencer slowed down to let you ride out your high, watching how your entire body trembled with pleasure. 

When he slipped out of you, he was still painfully hard. As pleasurable as this position was for the both of you, he craved your nearness more than to find quick release. 

Spencer Reid was a romantic after all. 

“Can you turn around for me, please,” he cooed. 

You did as he said and welcomed your boyfriend on top of you. His demeanor had changed when he entered you again, his motions were slower but still purposeful. His facial features were soft and his eyes filled with adoration for you. You wrapped your legs and arms around him to keep him impossibly close before capturing his lips in a soft kiss. 

“I love you,” he breathed against your lips. 

“I love you more.”

It didn’t take long for Spencer’s movements to get erratic as he got close to his own climax. 

“I’m so close,” he sighed. “You feel so good.” 

You ground your hips against his, intensifying his thrusts. You kissed his lips once more before whispering, “Come inside me.”

That was all it took for him. His body began quivering as he throbbed inside you, sharing his warmth with you until he had nothing left to give. After he caught his breath, he gently moved a strand of hair out of your face before softly kissing your forehead, your nose, your cheeks and finally, your lips. 

You still held him close inside your arms, refusing to let him go just yet. Your bodies were still connected even after he had gone soft. Spencer tried to move but you didn’t let him, still craving to have him close.

“Just a little bit longer,” you sighed.

“I’ll stay for as long as you need me to.”

Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @castiels-majestic-wings @emiliaserpe @velvetthunder93 @saturnstringz @missabsey @spencerslove @guacam011y @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @hales-17 @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @super-nerd22 @pleasantwitchgarden @r-3dlips @evvy96 @torigorie @meyaareads @luvdella @luvley2k @bunnylovesani @spenciesslut

[sxswriter]

🔞 NSFW headcanon that you and Sylus are college roommates who share an apartment.

WC: 500+

One day, Sylus decides to hide one of your precious plushies to get under your skin, and for an entire week, he refuses to tell you where it is. Luckily, when he was out for his afternoon classes, you seized the opportunity to look through his room. After searching high and low in the apartment for the past couple of days, you were convinced that it had to be in his room.

You comb through every corner of his space, but after failing to find it, you finally set your sights on his closet as a last resort. Just as you’re about to start your search, he unexpectedly returns to the apartment much earlier than you anticipated. Not wanting to be discovered, you quietly slip into his closet, leaving a small crack to peek through, and decide to wait for him to drift into his usual afternoon nap.  

But imagine your surprise when you see him sitting on his bed, leaning back against the headboard, and pull his hard cock out, and start jerking off. Of course, you knew it was wrong to be practically spying on your roommate during such a private moment. But the way he tilted his head back, his cheeks flushed, his abs tensing, and the sounds he was making made it difficult to look away.

It didn’t help that your thoughts had spiraled into wild, suggestive fantasies. You bit your lip as you imagined how your lips would wrap around his cock, struggling to fit it all in– because he was huge. The way your tongue would trace every curve, making sure not a single spot went untouched. You imagined how he would look when he finally reached his peak.

Your thighs rubbed against each other but it did nothing to alleviate the growing ache inside your core. You struggled to stay silent when your hand slipped underneath your shorts to rub against your clothed core to possibly seek some relief. 

All your attempts to remain quiet vanished the moment you heard him groan your name. He was thinking of you. You cursed yourself internally as a soft gasp escaped your lips, causing him to halt and turn his head toward the closet. You stepped back, wishing you could blend in with the hanging clothes, silently praying he hadn’t noticed.

But of course, luck was usually never on your side.

As Sylus opened the closet door, he looked down at you with a mischievous smirk. “Enjoying the show, sweetie?”

You half-expected him to be angry about your invasion of his personal space, but he seemed more amused than anything.

“Not really,” you replied, matching his smirk. You’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he affected you. “I never got to see how it finished.”

You saw the way his eyes roamed over you, and you were certain he noticed how your thighs were pressed tightly together or the way your hardened peaks pressed against your top. Even in shorts and a loose t-shirt, you felt exposed as if he were undressing you with his gaze.

“I see,” He finally said. 

Your breath hitched as he stepped closer, closing the distance between you. Leaning down, Sylus whispered into your ear, “How about you help me finish, then?”

[thesunisatangerine]

playing for keeps – chapter three

alexia putellas x barçakeeper!childhoodfriend!reader

warnings: coarse language, light angst

(a/n in the tags) [chapters: one, two, three]

word count: 8.8k

[1]

Just before you turned thirteen your body, finally, began to change. 

While Alexia’d gone ahead of you a year prior—with her limbs now lanky and sinewy, and her muscles stretched close to the newly grown bones—you were left behind. She’d grown taller, yes; not by much but the two-inch difference (two and a half, as Alexia was always inclined to remind you) felt like a foot to you. So the change was welcome when it finally started, and more importantly, it happened to coincide with something that completely altered the trajectory of your life.

During the spring after your birthday, your father got a promotion at work. To celebrate this milestone, he took you and your mother for a trip around Europe. And as a gift for your hard work and for getting into La Masia with Alexia just a few months before, your parents surprised you with tickets to at least one game in the country, or area, you were visiting. 

In Gelsenkirchen, Germany, you found your destiny. 

Or at least that was how you liked to look at it. 

Before seeing the match between Schalke 04 against Stuttgart, the idea of keeping never entered your mind; you’d played forward your whole life, and you thought that would be the position you’d play in professionally. But as you saw Manuel Neuer controlling the outcome of the game with his hands, a spark ignited within you—this overwhelming surge—and right there and then, you were enlightened to the art of keeping. That spark returned home with you and, playing into the hands of fate, your journey to keeping began.

[2]

The crescendo of the cicadas’ song was this close to lulling you to sleep. It didn’t help that Alexia’d curled herself up beside you in your bed, her head on your lap while her math notebook laid forgotten at the foot of the bed, and her eyes already closed. It was a rare occurrence for the both of you and even more so for Alexia to ‘slack off’—if you were to put it as Alexia had—but this afternoon was a particularly hot one. Summer had practically bled into spring, and even someone like Alexia clearly wasn’t immune to its soporific effect. 

The numbers from the homework you were working on began to blur when you heard a knock downstairs. Out of curiosity or just surprise, you snapped awake. And so did Alexia, apparently.

“You expecting someone?” Alexia yawned, stretching out her long limbs before settling over to her other side. The movement made a lock of hair fall to her cheek which you brushed away with the back of your finger.

“No, it’s probably Mamá’s.” You hummed in answer, relaxing down on your pillow to finally chase that nap that continued to tempt you.

But then came your mother’s voice, “Guille! Hello, my boy! How are you?”

Alexia let out a startled yelp when you jumped out of the bed, now fully awake, tripping on the rug as you rushed into the closet. 

“What the hell? What are you doing?!” Alexia hissed with annoyance but you were too busy trying to get changed to address it. 

You snatched the closest pair of shorts and jersey shirt, and began to shed the ones you had on before you slipped the fresh ones on in quick succession. 

As you did, you began to explain, “I completely forgot! I was supposed to meet up with Guille today!”

When your head popped out of your shirt, you found a deep crease between Alexia’s brows. She was sitting in the middle of your bed, cross-legged, looking very much like a disgruntled cat woken from a nap with the way her hair stuck out in odd places. 

She looked adorable. 

You bit your tongue before you could say it.

Crossing her arms, Alexia retorted, “Why? It’s Saturday.” 

The tone she used made it seem that today being a Saturday was a valid enough reason for you to not go. 

“And it is because it’s Saturday—and no training, Alexia—that I can go with him.” 

At that, her frown only seemed to deepen. You had half a mind to tease her but you knew that’d probably just piss her off even more, although if you were being honest, you didn’t understand just why this seemed to bother Alexia so much.  So instead of teasing, you tried a placating tone, “You could come with if you want?”

Alexia opened her mouth, “I—”

Your mother’s shout cut through the air. 

“Honey? Guille is here for you!” 

You sent Alexia one last apologetic glance. 

“I’m really sorry! Please stay for dinner! I’ll be quick!” 

And with a quick hug goodbye, you rushed out of your room and practically flew down the stairs. At the bottom, you found Guille leaning against the bannister, hands in his short pockets, with a small rucksack on his back who, upon seeing you, gave you a bright smile.

“Hey! You look—” He began but then suddenly, his eyes darkened and the quirk of his lips turned upside down, his tone flattening, “Oh. You’re here.”

In the same second you noticed Alexia beside you, Alexia’d slung an arm over your shoulders.

“Lovely to see you as always, Guille. And I could say the same about you.” Alexia deadpanned, flashing Guille a smile full of teeth, her eyes void of any warmth as she stared at him down her nose. Then she turned to you, her face lighting up as she asked with a little too much excitement, “So, are we going or not?”

“Wait, she’s coming with us?” Guille blurted out, but before you could even answer, Alexia left your side and ran down the steps. 

“Of course, Guille! Come on, keep up!” Alexia exclaimed on her way out of the door, tapping Guille’s stomach as she did—not without force apparently with the way Guille expelled air out harshly. 

When you got to him, you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“Are you okay?”

He let out a strained, “Yes.”

You gave Guille an apologetic look, grabbing your ball bag. 

“I’m really sorry for the last minute change. I’ll make it up to you.”

Still clutching his stomach, he said, “Don’t worry about it.”

The three of you got to the field near your place—which you were glad to find empty—without any more incidents. You were faced with another problem as it was only after you’d begun warming up that you realized that in your haste to leave, you forgot to bring water with you. When you told Alexia, she offered to go to the nearest corner store to buy some.

You stretched as you waited for Alexia’s return when Guille suddenly said behind you.

“Here.”

Turning, you found him holding a paper parcel bag. You considered his outstretched hand with curiosity before you met his eyes, taking the bag from him slowly. “What’s this?”

“Just a little something to get you started,” he answered, scratching the back of his head. “You said you wanted to keep, so I thought you’d need them.”

Peering into the bag, you gasped at what you found inside. 

A new pair of keeper gloves.

“Guille, you didn’t have to!”

He shrugged, smiling, “Yeah, but I wanted to anyway.”

“Thank you! Come here, you big baby!” You laughed, throwing your arms around him. Unlike Alexia, Guille was only taller than you by mere centimeters so it was relatively easy to ruffle his hair as you pulled away. 

“Mess up my hair again and I won’t teach you anything,” He threatened with a faux glare as he swept his fingers through his curling locks in an attempt to tame them. 

You rolled your eyes, grinning at him. “Okay, Antonio Banderas. So, what are the basics?”

He imitated you, rolling his eyes before he shook his head slightly, his smile never leaving his lips. Then he pointed to a spot by the goal line. “Put your gloves on and stand right there.”

You did, noting the way your new gloves fit perfectly over your hands and fingers. It felt different—stuffy—and you could already feel your palms beginning to sweat from the trapped heat. When you stood where Guille pointed, he walked around you all the while he instructed you to correct your posture: he told you keep your feet shoulder-width apart, to bend your legs slightly so that your chest was just past your knees, and to hold your palms facing out. 

“The main thing to worry about starting out is your stance. It will take time to get the balance right but once you get it down, you’re set.”

“Is this alright?” 

Guille took a step back and he gripped his chin as he hummed. After a moment of scrutiny, he nudged you back suddenly. It wasn’t quite forceful but it made you tumble down on your rear all the same. 

You smiled at him sheepishly, getting up. “I guess that’s a no?”

“Yep. It looks like you keep your weight on your heels too much.” He crouched down at your feet, drawing a square over the front half of your foot. “Keep your weight spread out around here and you should—”

Guille scrambled back suddenly, yelping as a football went flying past where he was just a second ago and into the net. Turning to the direction where the ball came from with your mouth agape, you found Alexia there with water bottles clasped to her chest, an eyebrow raised, while one corner of her mouth was set in a bemused droop, another ball rolling beneath her left foot.

“What the hell was that for, asshole?!” Guille shouted as he stormed his way over to Alexia. He was in front of her now, looking up at her with flame in his eyes but Alexia remained unfazed. She put the water bottles down before she settled her hands on her hips, cocking her head slightly to the side. 

“I’m sorry, Guille. I didn’t see you.” Alexia said flatly, “And aren’t you supposed to be playing keeper?”

“Really. You didn’t see me? Besides—”

“Ale, I asked Guille to teach me.” You huffed, running in between them and separating them with your arms before things got out of hand—again. 

This wasn’t the first time this… row between them happened. In fact, you noticed it’s been occurring more frequently lately. For all their similarities—the main one being their short tempers—the two never got on well together for reasons you never really understood and the only thread that tied them together was you. 

They weren’t always like this though; they were nice with each other the first time they’d met. Guille transferred to your school not long after you’d joined Sabadell, and if you and Alexia were inseparable there, it was always you and Guille at school. And when an opportunity arose for your two favorite persons to meet, you took it. It went well; they were friendly with each other. You only noticed things had changed after you and Guille’s school team started playing against Alexia’s so you were never sure when this all started, and by that point, the friction between them was too great to smoothen out which both saddened and disappointed you.

And it wasn’t like you never tried to get to the bottom of it. You’d asked them what happened, they both gave similar answers. By that, you meant completely avoiding answering. 

Guille’d assured you, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, we’re friends? Don’t worry.” 

While Alexia’d said with a confused frown, “What do you mean? Nothing happened.” 

And when you pestered her, asked her if the reason was because she liked Guille as a joke, she looked at you without reply, and when next practice came, she made a nuisance of herself enough to let you know the answer to your question and more. 

And here you were again, with them acting like this–always at each other’s throats. 

At your answer, Alexia looked at you, confused. “Why would you ask him to teach you how to keep?”

Your gaze lanced away as you bit your lip.

Maybe you should’ve told her after all… 

Mustering up the courage to meet her eye again, you replied, low and serious. “I want to start playing keeper, Alexia.” 

Alexia blinked, and then she crossed her arms before she eyed Guille who was scowling at her in return. She looked at you again. 

“Have you told Alejandro about this?”

“Yes.” 

“Oh.” A pause. “What did he say?”

“I’ll still start as a forward. But he said he’ll put in some extra technical sessions for me starting next week which was why I asked Guille to help me get started. Alejandro said if I get good enough, he’ll see if I can start as keeper for the team.”

An uncomfortable silence settled over you three. 

You caught Guille’s eyes darting from you to Alexia and back again from the corner of your eyes but you remained focused on Alexia’s face. At a glance, Alexia might seem calm—impassive with the way all of her features remained flat. But her eyelids drooped just so they hid more than half of her pupils, how her lower lip was slightly concealed beneath the upper one; she was pissed and even worse, she was hurt. And knowing that you’d hurt her was enough to compel you to reach out and touch her arm, apologetic.

Alexia regarded you for a moment longer. Another word of apology was on the tip of your tongue when she finally sighed, the corner of her lips tilting up to a half-smile as she spoke softly. “Okay. How can I help?”

You couldn’t help yourself. You threw your arms around her and it felt like a weight was lifted from your chest upon hearing the chuckle she let out.

The next couple of hours were spent with the three of you working together: Guille by the goal who continuously gave you notes and instructions, while Alexia—upon Guille’s signal—would send some shots to the net so you could try and stop them. The first… fifty or so shots went right past you—going easy was never exactly Alexia’s strong suit—but the more you focused on getting the timing right and reading the language of Alexia’s body to anticipate the direction of the ball, you ended the session with a few decent saves. 

It was a rough start but you were satisfied with it.

You’d left to use the restroom but upon coming back, the two of them were bickering once more.

Oh, no. What was it now?

You heard more of their words the closer you got, but you didn’t have to move too close with the way they were shouting.

“Come on, dude! Please, don’t tell me you’re still pissed off about that? It was a fair match!”

“How was that fair, Alexia? The two of you playing together is never fair! You’re both in La Masia for crying out loud! And even more importantly, she was supposed to be on my team! That was the original plan, but you went ahead and took her away!”

“What made you think I took her away?” Alexia crossed her arms, scoffing. “Let’s face it. She likes to play with me more than you.”

“You don’t know that!”

That was the moment Alexia spotted you and before you could even get a word in, she said, “Why don’t we just ask her who she’d rather play with?”

Two sets of intense eyes looked your way and without meaning to, you gulped, taking a step back.

“So? Who would you rather play with: me or her?” Guille asked, eyes wide and pleading. 

Suddenly feeling like you were backed into a corner, you stammered in your panic, “Umm, I—”

[3]

Alexia stayed over for dinner that night. That was normal; what was unusual was she left you alone to do the dishes. You had a feeling where she might be, especially since she’d been mostly quiet throughout the whole evening.

After you put away the last dish in the cupboard, and when your arms were finally free from suds, you took a peek into the living room. She wasn’t there—a confirmation of her whereabouts.

Putting on your flip flops, you headed out of the back door. 

The light from the living room casted a faint glow that dissipated the darkness around the garden when you opened the door that led out to it, aiding you just enough to see Alexia on the swing, sitting still with her back hunched forward. Once you were just a few paces behind her, you saw the contours of her headset, but even with them on, there was no way she didn’t know you were there—the fact that your shadow stretched to reach her before you did was a dead give away. Yet still, she made no move to acknowledge your presence.

Okay. That was fair.

“Ale,” you said softly. 

She gave you a glance before she went back to looking down at her clasped hands. 

“Alexia, come on.” 

Still no response. You fiddled with your thumbs as the moment dragged on. 

You sighed, sitting down on your heels next to her.

“I should’ve told you about the keeper thing,” you muttered. “I wanted to get a feel for it first, to get a bit better at it before I told you. But I didn’t consider how that would make you feel… and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel that I didn’t want or need you by my side, Alexia. I wanted you to think I was good enough for this.” 

Finally, Alexia turned to you, taking her headset off, the movement barely above a whisper. And softly, she spoke, “What made you think that I’ll think you’re not good enough for anything?”

“I don’t know.” You admitted, pulling at the grass in front of you. Your mother would probably see the hole you’d made on the lawn and berate you for it in the morning but you needed something to keep your hands busy. “I just wanted to go through this without too many expectations. And it’s not like I don’t want to keep our dynamic going. I love playing forward with you, Alexia, but I think keeping is my calling, just like midfield is to you.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I completely understand. You didn’t want any added pressure. I’m not going to hold that against you.” 

“Thank you,” you smiled at her. Then, “So, tell me why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking!” Alexia huffed with indignation. Then she looked away again, working her lower lip between her teeth.

You put a hand on her knee. “Alexia, what is it?”

“I…” Alexia sighed, brushing the bridge of her nose with her thumb. You gave her another moment. She heaved another breath before she began.

“That thing you said… Did you really mean it when you said you’d rather play with him than me?”

Oh. So that was what this was about.

“Of course not. We both know it’s always going to be you, Alexia.”

“Then why did you tell him that?”

“I feel like if I didn’t, I’d lose him as a friend.”

“And you’re not worried about losing me?” Alexia cried out, her tone inflected while her eyes reflected her hurt.

You blinked at her. 

There were moments—just like now—where you’d feel a sudden urge to shake Alexia. For all her sharpness and unmatched awareness, she sometimes failed to see even the most obvious of things. Couldn’t she see that you loved her and that you’d follow her to the edge of the earth if she asked you to?

At the absurdity of her question, you really couldn’t help but laugh. You stood up and shuffled behind her before you threw your arms around Alexia’s neck, draping yourself over her broad back, which made the swing move forward. The dampness of her hair felt cool against your cheek, the scent of your shampoo that clung to them filled your senses as you chuckled into her ear. 

“Why are you laughing? I’m serious!”

“Because, Alexia, do you hear yourself? I love you, you idiot!” You giggled again. “I know our friendship isn’t that shallow that I’d lose you over this. Or am I wrong?”

Alexia turned her head and you saw a hint of a smile on her lips. “No, I suppose not.”

A pleasant silence blanketed you both. And then Alexia hummed.

“But if there was something that could break us, what do you think it would be?”

You stopped to ponder, twirling a lock of Alexia’s hair with your finger, noting her hair was nearly dry now. When your mind drew blank, you replied nonchalantly, “Honestly, I have no idea.”

“Good.” Alexia leaned away so she could give you a lopsided smile—an earnest one. “Because me neither.”

[4]

“—you okay?”

You blinked and turned to Alexia. “Hmm?”

She glanced at you for a moment before she turned back to what she was doing, sleeves rolled up as she scrubbed a plate in the soapy water in the sink.

“I said, are you okay? Is there something wrong? You’ve been out of it since practice.” When a moment of silence lapsed, Alexia added, “And don’t think I didn’t notice you on your swing the past few days, too, because I did.”

You looked out the window and watched how the rain sluiced down the glass pane. In the darkness behind the window, you saw glimpses of soaked, curly locks and heard the hasty confession all over again.

You sighed, blinking the memory away.

“Guille asked me out.”

The sound of glass shattering and metal clanging made you jump, and you watched as a casserole pot twirled like a top on the hard, kitchen floor, while fragments of a broken plate skittered out to different directions. 

“Oh, shit!” Alexia cursed, looking down at the mess, while a voice called out from the living room. 

“Alexia, is everything alright in there?'' Came Eli’s voice. A few seconds later, Jaume’s head popped into the kitchen. He glanced at you then his eyes settled on Alexia who was crouched down, looking up guiltily at her father.

“Are you okay, girls?”

“Yes, Papá. I just… dropped some stuff.” Alexia said. You crouched down, too, about to pick up a fragment when Jaume spoke.

“Don’t pick that up, love, you might cut yourself. I’ll do it.” 

Jaume shooed the two of you to a corner he deemed safe and the both of you watched as he picked up the pieces, throwing them in the bin by the back door. Afterwards, he gave Alexia a kiss on her temple, and you a hug and a ruffle to your hair, as he retired for the evening, leaving the two of you again in your own company. Alexia went back to the sink to finish up whatever was left, and you returned to your place on the counter beside her. 

The silence that intruded was cut short by Alexia when she cleared her throat, “So… what did you say?” 

“I haven’t said anything, yet,” you sighed again, looking back out the window, the questions coming back full force. In the eight years you’d known Guille, how long had he harbored those feelings for you? When did it happen? What did you do to make him feel that way?

“Do you like him?” Alexia’s question brought you back to the present.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want him?”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” You laughed slightly, glancing back at Alexia who shrugged her shoulders in answer.

“No, I don’t think so. Desire is a drive, like it makes you want to act. Attraction is just… I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s a weaker feeling. And they complement each other but they’re not the same.”

“And you know this how exactly?” You asked her teasingly, a brow raised.

Alexia averted her eyes, and shrugged your question off with a laugh.

In the moment of silence that followed, you traced Alexia’s profile, and your gaze ended at the elegant curve of the bow of her lips. She looked so pretty casted in the candescent glow of the kitchen light that it made your chest ache just by looking at her. You dropped your eyes to your feet as your mind ran faster than before this entire conversation happened.

Clutching your arms tightly across your chest, you muttered, “I don’t know what I want.” 

[5]

Maybe hoping it would all turn out fine was a bit naive because naturally, Guille didn’t take your rejection well. It was your fault really for expecting otherwise but nevertheless, the inevitable discomfort of disappointment settled like lead in your gut. 

The thing was, you were ready to give Guille the space he needed to accept your boundaries—friends, or nothing at all—and to heal. But accusing Alexia of making you turn against him? Now, that was something you couldn’t let pass. 

He knew he’d crossed a line, too, with the way he kept avoiding you. At first, the silence didn’t bother you; he was hurt, after all. But when the apology never came, you understood that you’d be going through your last year of high school without your closest friend there by your side.

A fortnight passed without any word from him so it surprised you when he showed up at the local meetup that the three of you used to go to. He refused to meet your eyes but he had no problem leveling with the glares Alexia kept giving him. And when you ended up in Alexia’s team, the only sign of his distaste about it was the way his lips flattened to a line. He looked like he was about to say something, but with a slight shake of his head, he turned around and made his way to his teammates.

With one last look at Guille’s retreating back, you tuned back in your team’s conversation.

“—doesn’t need to play keeper. We need her more in the offensive.” Alexia said evenly but when you met her eyes, there was a clear question in them. 

You gave her a slight nod to let her know you were okay. 

She nodded back.

“How will that work? She’s the better keeper.” And then Marco added, “No offense, Julia.” 

Julia only shrugged carelessly, a gesture of nonchalance.

“Julia is perfectly fine and besides, with you, Benji, and Carmen, our backline is already strong. The four of you together lessens our chance of conceding.” Alexia paused, looking over her shoulder to the other team before she faced you all again, continuing, “Our priority is the offensive. What good is a strong backline if we can’t counterattack? That’s why I’m suggesting she play as forward in the meantime, while Martina and I will play as interiors. Does that make sense?”

A collective nodding occurred.

“So just to clarify, we’re playing three–two–one?” Benji asked.

Alexia hummed, nodding her head. “Mostly. If we find the space and some opportunities, we can easily do three–one–two.”

“No pressure on us defenders, right?” Carmen said with a laugh, if not with a hint of nerve. 

Everyone laughed but at the end of it, Alexia placed a hand on Carmen’s shoulder. “No pressure because you guys, as I said, are very strong. You got this.”

Carmen smiled at Alexia at that, nodding before she finally moved to her spot. As you and Alexia moved towards the middle of the pitch, Guille was introduced to your line of sight, and a weight pressed in your gut. Disappointment? Perhaps. Or maybe you just actually missed talking and hanging out with him.

Alexia’s teasing tone pulled away your attention from Guille.  “I hope you haven’t forgotten how to play forward from all the keeping you’ve been doing.”

“Four years of keeping against the five years of playing forward? You need to brush up on your math ‘cause I think you’ve forgotten how to count.” You said dryly, giving her a look so dirty that had her throwing her head back in laughter.

Alexia leveled you with an unimpressed look but her tone remained playful. “You are such a bitch sometimes. You know that, right?”

“Thank you. I do try, you know. It’s my only defense against your smart-mouth.”

“Stop denying you don’t like my teasing.” Alexia waggled her brows as she smirked. The way she looked just then—with both hands on her hips, the ball beneath her left boot—your throat dried, heart racing; a sensation that’d familiarized itself to you during its recurrent visits over the past few weeks. Your mind blanked out, clear as the white of Alexia’s shirt, and when no words came to you to retort back, you shook your head and just laughed. By the time the game started—or maybe it was because it started—the feeling finally went away, replaced by the adrenaline that shot through your veins the moment Alexia kicked the ball to you.

It proved to be a tight game. The main strategy of the opposition seemed to be to mark and shut you and Alexia down whenever the ball so much turned your way. Alexia was right to trust your backline: any counterattack from the other team was dealt with immediately, and Julia only needed to save a handful of shots that passed through your defense, which she handled well.

At last, your team finally made a breakthrough.

Alexia cut a diagonal through the box, taking two of the defenders as she did, freeing up the space just behind her. You knew what she was doing so you faked a sidestep, turning quickly to lose your marker, before you sprinted in towards the middle of the box. And as you anticipated, Alexia sent the ball back to you with a flick of her heel. Now, if you could just—

The ground tilted, and there was a moment where the whole world suspended. It lasted for less than a breath before everything—the sensations and sounds—came rushing back in.

You slammed to the ground. 

Air was squeezed out of your lungs from the impact, while your skull and teeth rattled within the confines of your skin; the taste of green, earth, and copper spread on your tongue. Muffled shouts and grunts filtered past the ringing in your ear but when you cupped a hand over your tender ribs, your resulting groan was all you could hear.

When you finally came to, Alexia’s face was over you, the doubled image of her finally merging into one. Her wide, hazel eyes looked on you with worry and you felt the warmth of her fingers as they grazed over your face: from your temples down to your cheeks which she took in a gentle cradle.

“Alexia?” You let out another groan as you turned on your back while Alexia helped you.

“Tell me where it hurts.”

There was a tension that constricted around the front part of your head, but you could feel the blood pulsing most on the side that collided with the ground. “My head… it hurts.”

“Okay, okay. Just lay down for now, I’ll get you…”

You seemed to have passed out after that because one moment you were lying on the fields, and the next you were beside Alexia on her living room couch. You had a vague recollection of being carried on Alexia’s back, but the feel of the strong plane of her shoulder against your cheek remained there, warm and comforting. 

And only then, after Eli gave you ice for your head, did you see the bruise that bloomed deep in the skin of Alexia’s jaw, just below her left cheek, and the scuffed knuckles of her right hand which were splotched with deep reds and purples.

You took her hand onto your lap, gently running over the ice for your head over her knuckles, while you looked at Eli sitting on the opposite couch with Jaume beside her. Eli’s face burnt redder than you’d ever seen before, while Jaume held onto her hand, circling his thumb over the top of it in an attempt to calm her down.

Alexia remained quiet the whole time, eyes casted down as she took her mother’s reprimanding words. There was the unmistakable shine of shame in them, her guilt, but also an unwavering quality that stood for what she did. At the end of it, Eli and Jaume hugged the both of you before letting you retreat into Alexia’s room as you waited for your parents to arrive.

Instead of getting on her bed with you, Alexia plopped down on the floor just by the foot of the bed, her back against the wooden bedframe. You regarded the back of her head, her neck curved downwards, and you suddenly felt the need to be close to her so you shuffled off her sheets, and got down beside her. 

“Thank you, but your mother was right, you know? You shouldn’t have done it, Alexia.” You mumbled, unfurling her fingers to rest on your knee so you could access more of her knuckles that way. Gently, you placed ice over it, but she still hissed in pain. “You shouldn’t have punched him.”

“Why not? He deserved it.” Alexia said evenly as she stared at the far corner of the room. “And before you start defending him, you didn’t see what I saw—what the rest of us saw. He didn’t even touch the ball—it was all feet. He meant to trip you up.” 

Warmth bloomed in your chest at her words—at how her action showed just how much you meant to her—but the discomfort in your gut marred the surge of your affection for her. 

You took a deep breath, sighed it out, and it tasted like disappointment. 

“Alexia, I appreciate the gesture, I do. But you can’t just hurt people just because they did something to me.” 

Alexia puffed her chest and proclaimed, “I can.”

“Stop that nonsense, Alexia. I mean it.” Firmer now, you said, and there was a hint of desperation in the intonation of your words. There was an urgent need to make Alexia understand the gravity of what she did, what future implications it held if what Eli and you told her didn’t sink in now. “Actions like this can jeopardize you, Alexia, and all the things you worked hard for. Do you understand that? What will Alejandro say when he sees you all bruised up next practice? And if I get tackled dirty during a game and I get hurt, would you risk a red card, or suspension, for behaving like this?”

Alexia became silent, the muscle in her jaw working, and when she turned to you with her mouth open and you spotted a defiant crease in her brows, you were quick to stop her.

“If the answer to that question isn’t no, Ale, I don’t want to hear it.” The sound of teeth clattering filled the air. She casted her gaze aside again, her cheeks growing a shade deeper. “Look at me, Alexia.”

When she kept her eyes glued to the floor, you dropped the ice pack to take her face in your hands. She flinched from the coldness of your fingers but as you looked into her eyes, rimmed with redness and framed by drooping eyelids, you found exhaustion and the shine of apology. You brushed away a matted lock of hair from the tail end of her brow.

“You have a good heart, Alexia, but you have to promise me. Please don’t do something like this again. Ever.” 

Alexia looked into your eyes, deeply as if in contemplation, and then she closed them. A moment later, she sighed, sagging into your touch as if a weight had left her shoulders, before she opened them again. 

“I promise.” 

This time, you believed her.

Smiling softly at her, you whispered, while you placed a light kiss on her cheek. “Thank you.”

Settling into the moment, you rested your head against Alexia’s shoulder, her bruised hand in yours. In the brief silence before your father arrived to pick you up, Alexia spoke in an earnest tone that made your stomach flutter.

“I know you can handle yourself, but that won’t stop me from having your back.”

At her words, your heart felt like it would burst your chest open. And you should’ve known that this was where you’d end up—with her, it seemed inevitable anyway—because the years of you’d known Alexia flashed quickly before your eyes, and the memory stopped to this person beside you, haloed golden by the warm glow of her bedside lamp, and you were hit with a realization that took what little breath you had away.

You liked Alexia.

And, even more importantly, you want her.

[6]

When you got on the field in a Barça jersey for the first time after your return, you didn’t expect to be welcomed like you did. Jona subbed you on after the first half and as you left the tunnel, you heard the crowd chanting your name. The cheers made you feel excited, accepted and seen, but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t pressure you at all.

It was originally intended for you to come on during the last twenty minutes, but seeing as Caro, Patri, and Alexia gave the team a comfortable enough lead, Jona decided to sub you on ahead of schedule. You didn’t see much action on your end though, something that you didn’t mind at all—a quiet defensive-third was the best kind. The midfielders kept the midline high to sustain pressure in the offensive-third, while the defenders maintained such a tight backline that any loose through-balls sent to the opposing runners were called offside. Of course, there were a handful of times when you needed to get out of your box to ping the ball back into the offensive, but other than that, it was quiet. When the match ended, you were satisfied that Barça had another clean sheet and four goals to add to the season tally.

For the celebration, you moved with your teammates around Estadi Johan Cruyff, and during the procession, you spied your parents, Eli, and Alba who was talking to a raven-haired woman you’d never seen before, clapping and cheering. Warmth filled you upon seeing your family in the stands again—such a scene was a luxury when you were in the States because plane tickets weren’t exactly cheap—and when you felt the familiar weight of Alexia’s arm slung over your shoulders, the fabric of her captain armband against the skin of your neck, it felt like a perfect homecoming.

Well, almost.

After you’d showered and changed to your casuals, most of the crowd had gone while some lounged about, one of which was the raven-haired woman Alba was talking to. When Alexia took her hand, you knew instantly, and your heart—damn your heart—dropped.

“This is Diana,” Alexia said after the both of them made their way to you. And if it wasn’t their intertwined hands that revealed what they were to each other, their gaze—saccharine when they met—made it all the more clear the nature of their relationship long before Alexia said the words, “my girlfriend.”

Diana beamed up at Alexia, her cheeks deepening in color before she regarded you again, sticking her hand out towards you to shake. Preceding the intention, you took her hand and when you did, Diana placed her other hand over yours, clasping your hand between her warm palms.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. Alexia’s talked so much about you.” 

She did? Your eyes flitted to Alexia but when she shied away from that, you focused back on Diana’s face. She was stunning: with her high cheekbones carved to elegance, her brows following the perfect line of her temple, her full lips painted with a terracotta shade made deeper by the bronze of her skin, while her loose, straight, raven hair framed her face in such a way that accentuated the sharpness of her jaws. Her eyes were dark but still light enough to see the outline of her pupils, and they had an amiable shape that reflected her warm nature. And for some reason, her light brown eyes looked really familiar—

“Ah! My favorite cousin made it, after all! Although I’m not sure it was me you went to the game for!” Tori’s playful voice resonated in the near-barren corridor. Diana’s eyes flicked somewhere behind you—to Tori, you supposed.

“Don’t be like that, Tori, of course I came to see you, too!”

“Lies!”

Diana shook her head, laughing, as she took Tori in her arms. “Come here, you!”

In response, Tori said something in Portuguese that made Diana laugh. When they broke apart, Diana said, “Forget you? Never. Especially when I owe you one.”

“Owe her what?” Alexia asked with her brows creased with curiosity.

Diana took Alexia’s hand and squeezed it, looking up at Alexia with a gentle expression. “For giving us the chance to meet.”

“Damn right!” Tori exclaimed, putting both hands on her hips, as she grinned so wide that her dimple showed. Tori must’ve seen your confusion because she leaned in to whisper, “I brought Diana as my plus one for last year’s Ballon D’Or ceremony.”

You allowed your mouth to drop open before you smiled, letting out a small laugh that made your chest ache. “Ah, I see.”

“She kept complaining about going but now, aren’t you grateful I took you away from your precinct, Detective Beauregard?” Tori teased.

“She’s never going to let us live this down, will she?” Diana muttered dryly to Alexia but it was deliberately loud enough for all of you to hear. In response, Alexia threw her head back laughing. 

“You’re a detective? That’s amazing!” You said, impressed.

“Please, Tori’s exaggerating. I work in forensics. DNA analyst is the correct title.” Diana threw Tori a dirty look to which the other woman raised her shoulders in response. “It’s a whole different world compared to yours so—and please don’t let this get to your head, Tori—I am grateful I was able to step into it.”

Her eyes, still locked with Alexia’s, grew all the more soft.

“Get a room, you guys,” Tori said with a mock sound of disgust, and then she continued to mutter, “And to think that you’ve only been going out for four months… I don’t even want to think about how it will be like in another three months.”

At that, Alexia raised a brow and then, “Want to do some extra laps tomorrow?”

You and Tori knew Alexia was joking, but Tori being Tori, she spluttered, “That would be a hard no, Captain. I’ll just—Have a great night!” 

With that, she ran away, arms flailing behind her in an exaggerated manner as she hastily made her exit. The sight drew laughter from the three of you.

“We’re having dinner at Mamá’s, want to come over?” Alexia asked.

You shook your head, flashing a look at Diana, before you told Alexia,“Not tonight. I’m just about to head over to my parents’ as well.”

“Alright. But Alba’s going to ask about you, you know? I think she wants to hang  out with you.”

You laughed. “Tell her to text me. She’ll know what that means.”

“Is that something I should know about?” Alexia smirked.

Flatly, you retorted, “If it’s something that concerns you, I’d be telling you by now, right?” 

“You see what I have to deal with?” Alexia told Diana, almost whining.

Inching backwards, you said as dry as you could manage, “I’ll take that as my queue to leave, Alexia might start crying. She’s a crybaby, you know?” 

“Hey! I’m not—”

“No need to be embarrassed about it, Alexia. Be proud!”

Diana only laughed, saying, “Alright, kids, I think that’s enough for tonight.”

Nodding, you grinned at Alexia while she mouthed the word ‘bitch’ to you. In kind, you mouthed ‘smartmouth’ back. With a shake of her head and a smile, she gave you one last hug, and after a pleasant goodnight from Diana, the three of you parted ways.

You sent them a look over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the watch around Alexia’s left wrist. It glinted as they walked together down the corridor, hand in hand, looking as in love as any new couple would. 

The sight made you smile, but it felt heavy, and as if the universe wanted to rub salt to the wound, you found Patri outside the locker room when you turned around with a look akin to pity in her eyes.

[7]

The next day, Guille stopped by at your place. He’d given you notice a few days prior but even still, the moment you saw him behind the door, you squealed like you were ten again from your excitement. After you hugged him tight—he made a choking noise when you did to tease you—you held him at arm’s length to see what changes the last few months had done to him.

He looked different. Gone were the long, dark curls; now sheared close to his scalp that left only about an inch of length, his hair retained their luscious shine, their color still as dark as night. 

His scar—the one just by the tail end of his left brow—that used to see little light from the obstruction of his hair, now stood apparent and without meaning to, the day he got it came back to you: the bruised knuckles, ice-cold fingers, and the warm blush of a lamplight.

 And your chest ached a little.

Leading the conversation to the living room, the two of you ended up ordering takeaways—mostly for Guille’s benefit because you weren’t about to subject him to your football diet—and as you ate, the two of you caught up.

Guille was close to finishing his dissertation—the biomechanics of concussion in sport and its neurocognitive implications—and he was both excited and fearful about what would come next. He then talked about his girlfriend, Iris, smittenly if you might add. She was actually with him in the city, but his mother insisted she steal Iris for the day for some quality bonding, and you laughed at the repertoire of stories he’d relayed in great detail about his mother’s teasing of their relationship.

“When am I going to meet Iris?” You asked with a teasing tone.

He rolled his eyes, “Well, since you’re actually staying in Barcelona this time, we can arrange that.”

A pause, and then, “Is Alexia staying here, too, or are you here by yourself?”

“No, it’s just me here.”

“Oh. I thought the two of you’d be rooming again like—” Probably seeing your change in demeanor, Guille cleared his throat as he ate his pasta a bit too eagerly. “Speaking of, how is she?”

The question was casual but you knew it was anything but.

“She’s doing good, if not a little stressed. Our first Champions League game is just around the corner after all and it’s against Chelsea, so.” You shrugged to complete your thought. You knew what he was asking but you’d rather not talk about that.

His eyes could burn a hole on the side of your head by the way he stared at you in the silence that followed. Then he sighed deeply.

“She still doesn’t know.”

Tension filled every inch of your body and you shrank tight as a coiled spring. You stood up as you felt a sudden urge to get away from him, taking the used plates on the coffee table as a pretense to move from the couch to the sink.

“What’s it to you if she doesn’t know, Guille?” You asked flatly, rolling up your sleeves after you turned the tap on.

“I just want you to be happy. Is that so wrong?”

“And who says I’m not?” Your tone was flat and when you glanced at him over your shoulder, Guille only gave you a pointed look.

Then he said softly, “She could make you happier and you know it.”

And there it was again, that look in his eyes that you just couldn’t stand. Gritting your teeth, you gripped the edge of the sink and your voice quaked when you spoke. “Please stop talking like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like,” you tried to find the words but when they evaded you, you huffed and threw your hands up in the air. “Why are you making it sound like I have a chance?”

“Because you do! You’re the one who’s not giving Alexia a chance by not telling her.”

“Give me one good reason why I should.”

“She loves you.”

A pause.

“That’s bullshit.” You shook your head, letting out a small, disbelieving laugh. As much as your heart wanted that to be true, you knew otherwise.

“It’s really fucking not.” Guille countered.

“If she did, she wouldn’t have said what she did.” 

“People say stupid shit when they’re drunk.”

“That can go the other way, too. Alcohol has a way of loosening what’s been bottled.”

“Oh, come on!” Guille scoffed. “You’ve known her since you were eight. You’ve been through thick and thin together! Do you really think she wanted you to leave?”

With the reminder, the memory sprung up on you and you could hear Alexia’s voice, grating and wrenching your heart raw again when you heard the words from her lips. You whirled around to face him, eyes burning.

“You weren’t there when she told me, Guille!” You breathed out sharply and then you continued, in a lower tone filled with resignation, you whispered as you buried your face in your palms. “You didn’t hear the way she said it. You didn’t—”

You choked on your words. 

After all this time, it was still too painful.

Darkness filled your vision but the tears escaped nonetheless, branding tracks down your cheeks. You heard the rustling of clothes followed by soft footsteps. Before you knew it, Guille’s arms wrapped around your shoulders and his familiar, comforting scent made you sink into the embrace.

“You’re right. I wasn’t there. But if you could forgive me for being an asshole and what I did to you, why can’t you do the same with her?”

You didn’t say anything after that, only clutched at his shirt a little tighter.

Guille kept quiet, too.

The both of you knew just the reason why.

[8]

“Did you see the news?” Jona asked as he kept the door open for you to an empty meeting room, closing it as soon as you’d gone in. 

Sitting down on one of the cushioned chairs, you said, “I did.”

You saw it this morning and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t faze you. 

Jona nodded, taking the chair across the table from you. He put his clasped hands on the wooden surface and the way he tapped an erratic rhythm with his thumbs didn’t help your nerves.

“Lyon paid a hefty transfer fee for her and that makes me worried. I don’t know what Bompastor is planning to do with her but her transfer to the European league will be a concern for the club.” With a pensive crease appearing between his brows, he continued. “You probably know why I asked you to come in.”

“You want me to tell you what I know about her.”

He nodded, leaning forward as if to emphasize his point. “She’s a lethal forward and you’re the only one in the club who’s ever played with her. In fact, you two seemed very close during your time in Angel City.”

You crossed your arms, leaning back into your chair, frowning slightly. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

Jona blinked at you.

Then slowly, “Surely you must’ve trained closely together considering she’s a forward and you’re a keeper? Unless training was vastly different in Angel City, then I’m sorry for the assumption.”

“O–Oh, I thought you were implying—” You shook your head, uncrossing your arms as you waved the rest of your sentence away. “Never mind. But yes, that’s right.”

Jona gave you another questioning look before speaking again. 

“She’s going to be a big problem. And that’s why I’m going to change things up a bit. I want to put you in the starting lineup as soon as possible—put as many games with our current team under your belt. We’ll most likely face Lyon in the Quarters and that’s unfortunate but what is great is that you’re here: the best counter to what Lyon acquired. If we could eliminate Lyon early, we have a higher chance of winning this year’s Champions League. The question is, are you ready for it?”

“That’s what I’m here for, Jona.” You said seriously, ignoring the pressure that pressed in the periphery of your mind.

“Use me.”

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley starts building his daughter's playset with a little help from an unexpected visitor. He wants to finish all of his projects and take care of you and do as much as he can now that he's home. There's so much he wants to get done, it might be time to make a to-do list.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, swearing, oral, pregnancy, bit of angst

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley was up at the crack of dawn on Saturday. His afternoon nap the previous day turned into one that lasted into the evening when you got up with him and cooked him dinner before going back to bed. His plan was to come home and take care of everything so you didn't have to, but so far you made him homemade chicken fajitas and lulled him to sleep with your fingers in his hair, twice. 

But today, he was determined to return the favor. He wanted to get started on building the jungle gym, and he wanted to get in a few reps on his own workout equipment in the garage. He'd clean up the kitchen and take Tramp for a walk later, too. If he got started now, he might be able to build the entire jungle gym frame for his daughter. His daughter. He ran his hands over his face as you snoozed right next to him in bed. Would he ever stop being on the verge of tears when he thought about it?

There was a list of names he liked in the Nugget notebook which was still tucked away in his duffle bag. He had a favorite, but he didn't want to try to convince you that it was perfect until he heard which ones you liked. But he knew it would be perfect.

"Roo?"

He was just about to slip out of bed when you rolled toward him, reaching for him groggily like you couldn't quite believe he was really home. "There's my Baby Girl," he whispered, letting his hand settle on your belly now that you were awake. "And my Nugget."

In an instant, you pushed him onto his back, kissing him as he cradled you with both hands. Your bump wasn't very big yet, but it was noticeable, and he didn't want to hurt you. God he missed waking up next to you, and it was obvious you'd missed him, too. You deepened the kiss, your tongue dipping between his parted lips until you were tasting his mouth. He could feel your nipples harden against his chest through a layer of cotton as you dragged your fingers through his hair before letting them trail down his body to the waistband of the shorts he fell asleep in. 

"Okay," he grunted, already hard for you as you ran your index finger inside the elastic. "Take it easy, Sweetheart. Wanna make this last." He rolled you gently onto your back as you cupped him inside his shorts, your thumb stroking his length. You squeezed his balls gently, spreading your legs wide. He glanced down your body as you smirked at him. "If you're gonna show off that pretty pussy, I'll put my mouth all over it."

"Bradley," you moaned, turning your head to the side. How on earth that bashful smile could make him even wilder, he had no idea. But just when he ran his thumb along your wet slit and tickled your ear with his mustache, someone started pounding on the front door.

You squeaked and jolted beneath him, but not in the way he wanted. "What the fuck?" he growled, easing his body off of yours. Once he was standing, he tried to adjust himself in his shorts, but it was obvious he was hard. Then there was more pounding.

"It's your first weekend home. Did you seriously invite someone over here this early, Bradley?" you asked, squinting as you reached for your phone. "It's seven o'clock!"

"No," he grunted. "I didn't even talk to anyone! I just wanted to eat your pussy in peace."

He stormed out of the bedroom, adjusting himself as he went. Tramp was already pacing back and forth and whimpering at the front door when Bradley saw Jake's car parked in front of the house. "Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me." He wrenched the door open and found Jake standing there with some grocery bags and a box of donuts. "What do you want?" Bradley barked while Tramp started licking the unwanted visitor's leg.

Jake strolled inside like he wasn't interrupting Bradley's blissful weekend of giving his wife head and finding out his Nugget is a girl. "I brought all of the groceries and everything," Jake answered, heading for the kitchen, completely unfazed by Bradley in nothing but his compression shorts. "Welcome home, by the way. Looks like the perfect day to start on that playset."

Bradley didn't particularly want to jump down his throat, especially since Jake had been the one to promise to get the damn thing built for the baby if he didn't make it home in one piece. "Why are you here exactly?" he asked, and then he heard your voice from down the hallway.

"Is that Jake?"

"Yes," Bradley and Jake replied at the same time. And then you appeared wearing that old shirt and a pair of Bradley's gym shorts and your glasses, and he wanted to drag you back to bed and put his mouth everywhere.

"What the hell?" you asked, stomping right up to Jake, clearly annoyed that Bradley's face wasn't between your thighs. "You practically woke us up!"

"Well, that's not completely true," Bradley muttered with a smirk, earning a glare from you. 

Jake checked the clock on the microwave. "It's 7:18. When you texted me last night and said Rooster was home, you told me to come over around seven."

"I meant seven in the evening!" you said, flailing your arms. "Like a normal person!"

Jake just shrugged and bit into a donut. "I brought the groceries you asked for."

Bradley watched you and saw the exact moment you caved. The annoyance on your face melted away as you grabbed a cream donut from the box. "Wait, why did you ask Jake to bring groceries over?"

You nibbled on the donut and snuggled up against Bradley, looking up at him as you said, "I wanted to make Reuben his cookies today, but I didn't want to leave you to go to the store."

He kissed some powdered sugar from your lips and whispered, "You're the sweetest thing."

You pressed your cheek to his chest and said, "Since he's here, you might as well get Jake to help you with the pallets on the driveway since I can't lift anything that heavy."

Bradley cringed just thinking about it. "You will not be lifting a fucking finger, Sweetheart. I'll take care of everything." He looked at Jake over your head and asked, "Feel like helping me get started on the playset?"

He had half of a second donut in his mouth as he mumbled, "I thought that's why I was here."

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

Bradley didn't put any more clothing on, and that was a-okay with you. He just added his work boots to the mix. Those black compression shorts were working overtime as he and an equally shirtless Jake hauled everything from the driveway to the backyard. He already cleared out the area where the playset would go, framed it in with long wood planks and filled it with gravel, and today they would start assembling the frame.

Your plan to make five dozen cookies for Reuben kept getting derailed as you wandered over to the sliding glass door every five minutes or so. The yard wasn't very big, and now most of it would be taken up by the patio, shed and playset, but you'd let your husband build anything he wanted back there. He was so excited about the baby, it made you feel lightheaded. 

You were pregnant with a girl. Maybe she'd have Bradley's wavy hair. Maybe she would look just like him. You leaned against the open door frame and watched the guys as they argued about a drill bit setting and smiled. When you caught Bradley's eye, he shouted out, "I love you," before continuing with his discussion. He loved you so well, you already knew he'd be just as devoted to his daughter.

The oven started beeping, letting you know it had preheated. You ran your hand down your body and whispered, "Your father is going to spoil you rotten." Then you put the first tray of chocolate chip cookie dough in the oven, and within minutes your entire house smelled amazing. You baked so many cookies for Reuben, you didn't see how he would even be able to eat all of them before they got stale, so you shaped the last batch into little heart cookies with your fingers before tossing them in the oven.

Then when you took a bite out of one of the cookies that was cooling on the counter, you felt her. It was that same light, fluttering sensation as last time when you tried to eat a piece of candy on Halloween. "Hi," you whispered, voice laced with excitement. "Do you have a sweet tooth?" There was more fluttering, and you grabbed at the edge of the counter as you laughed. "You do! Are you going to eat everything I bake just like your dad?"

You closed your eyes and chewed the cookie slowly, letting yourself linger in the kitchen over the feel of your daughter doing some kind of a wild somersault for you. 

"It's getting hot out," came Bradley's voice through the open door. "Let's grab some drinks before we drill the brackets into place." Once he was inside with Jake, he started digging around in the refrigerator, retrieving two cans of beer and two water bottles. "You okay, Sweetheart?" he asked as he handed Jake a bottle and a can. He was eyeing you cautiously where you stood with your hand on your belly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you whispered, and now both men were looking at you. "The Nugget was just doing some backflips."

"She was?" Bradley asked in excitement, leaving his forgotten drinks on the counter next to the refrigerator. In an instant, he was on his knees in front of you, yanking your shirt up and kissing your belly button while his big, warm hands settled against you. "Is she still?"

"She?" Jake asked with a smile, and you smiled back while Bradley shushed him.

"I think it's still too early for you to feel anything this way," you whispered, tugging your fingers through Bradley's sweaty hair as his stubbled cheek came to rest on your bump.

"Hey, little Nugget," he murmured while Jake took his drinks and slipped back outside. "Can you let Daddy feel like one little thump?" You could feel her squirming around while he talked, but she was probably still too small for him to get what he wanted. "Please?"

You didn't rush him. Bradley just knelt there with his eyes closed for a few minutes while you played with his hair. Now that Jake knew you were having a girl, you may as well just call your parents this week and tell all of your friends as well.

Bradley groaned and hopped to his feet as soon as Jake started up one of his power tools on the patio. He kissed you, his sun-warmed torso pressed against you as he said, "I need to make sure he doesn't break anything." You were still laughing as he rushed outside.

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

The backyard was coming together nicely. After you fed Jake dinner and he finally left, Bradley undressed you and picked you up, setting you down on the edge of the counter where you could look out the window as the sky darkened. "You got a lot done today," you moaned while Bradley spread your legs and ate your pussy, picking up where he left off this morning. "Such a dedicated Daddy."

"Anything for the Nugget," he groaned before licking a long stripe up to your clit. His forehead bumped your growing belly which thrilled him as he slowly, meticulously brought you every bit of pleasure you should have had in bed earlier. His mind was swirling with all of the projects he had to do and the torn apart attic, and he was still exhausted from being away for so long. But he got lost in your taste and the sounds you were making as soon as he started sucking gently on your clit.

"You know what that fucking mustache does to me," you gasped while he tried not to grin. His fingers found your dainty tattoo, and he sucked on your clit a little harder until you were begging him to fuck you. He wanted to tell you no and draw your orgasm out of you on the kitchen counter, but then you demanded, "I want to come on your cock."

Carefully, so he didn't dare hurt you, he helped you slide off the counter and into his arms. "If this is uncomfortable for you, then you need to tell me, Baby Girl." But you were already spinning around and pressing your gorgeous ass back against him.

"Fuck me," you whined, and Bradley was more than happy to oblige.

He lined himself up with your slick entrance and pushed himself deep as he said, "I thought you told me you weren't as horny in the second trimester."

You were whimpering his name before you got control. "Well now that you're home, I guess I am."

"Music to my ears." 

He went slowly, making sure you felt everything, and he cupped your belly and your fucking delicious breasts while you held onto the counter. Your body felt different to him, but in so many ways it was exactly the same. Your response never changed; you always welcomed him knowing he'd get you there no matter what. And you gripped him tight, rolling your hips back to meet him, stroke for stroke. 

When he plucked at your nipples, you arched your back, and when he rolled your clit between his fingers, you started to come. He was right there, too, and you pushed him over the edge when you said, "Make a mess of my pussy, Roo."

"Damn it," he growled, lips pressed to your shoulder as he filled you up and kept himself thrust deep to enjoy the squeeze of your orgasm around him. When you straightened up but held him snug inside you, your head tipped back against his shoulder. "How was that, Sweetheart?" he crooned, and you moaned. Then your stomach growled loudly, and he chuckled. 

"I'm so hungry. Didn't we just eat dinner?"

"My little Nugget is growing," he whispered, letting his chin rest on your shoulder so he could look at your tits. He brought his hands up so he could swipe his thumbs along your nipples. "I swear these fucking thing are getting bigger by the day," he mused while you reached for the plastic container of chocolate chip cookies. You held it up and let him take a bite before finishing the rest of it yourself. "Weren't these supposed to be for Reuben?" he asked.

You pointed to the island where several gallon sized bags were filled with cookies. "His are regular. The little heart shaped ones in this container are for you."

Bradley could have stood there forever with his hands all over the front of you and his softening cock still inside your pussy while you fed him heart shaped cookies and told him the baby was moving around again. "I want to feel her," he whispered.

Your head tipped back again as you said, "I know, Roo. Pretty soon she'll be kicking up a storm, excited about meeting her dad." 

Then you started yawning and he finally took a reluctant step away from you. "It's time for bed," he said, patting your ass. "It was an early morning with Jake showing up and everything." He followed you to the bathroom and helped you clean up his cum from your legs, and then he waited until you were done washing your face and brushing your teeth to lead you to bed. He handed you a clean pair of his boxer briefs and watched you pull them up so the elastic sat just below your bump. He smiled, and before you could pull on his ancient UVA shirt, he pulled you closer.

"Can I help you with something?" you asked, giving him a coy look. "You ready to go for round two?"

He raised one eyebrow. "Are you ready to go for round two?" You were smiling but already stifling another yawn when he guided you toward the bed and tugged his shirt over your head. "You need to rest. I'll fuck you twice tomorrow."

You pulled the blanket up and whispered, "This is all Jake's fault."

Bradley snorted as he pulled the blanket back down, yanked up the shirt and leaned down to press his lips to your warm breasts. You whimpered as he kissed both nipples and ran his nose along your perfectly soft skin. "I can't get enough of these fucking things. My god, Sweetheart." He forced himself to pull the shirt back into place when you started to squirm, quickly kissing your bump first. After he removed your glasses and set them aside, he reached for the lamp on your nightstand.

"Aren't you getting in bed?"

He shook his head. "I'll clean the kitchen and let Tramp out first, and then I'll be in. I love you both."

"Love you, Roo," you curled up on your side, already falling asleep when you added, "You know what I'm hungry for?"

"What's that, Baby Girl?"

"Hot sauce."

He had to stifle his laughter as he whispered, "Finally. I'll take care of that tomorrow, too. I'll just add it to my list. Two rounds of sex, more playset building, and some hot sauce."

You were already sound asleep.

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

When you got up on Sunday morning, Bradley and Tramp were nowhere to be found, but both Broncos were in the driveway. "Roo?" You were met with silence as you made yourself some coffee and filled a glass with water. He had covered the refrigerator in rows of ultrasound photos, and you couldn't help but laugh at the way he used up all of the magnets. You picked up one of the now stale donuts that Jake left, and that's when you found a note from your husband.

Walking Tramp to the beach. Back soon. I have my phone. Tell the Nugget I love her.

You smiled, looked down at your belly and said, "Your Daddy loves you." The way she immediately started to squirm and flutter around had you reaching for the counter. "Feels like you love him, too." 

You moved his note to the side, and your fingers brushed a handwritten list, partially folded up and sitting on top of all of Bradley's unopened mail that you'd collected. The last time you went through his things, you ended up in a very dark place after you saw the results from the sperm test he took. You didn't want to do that again. You could just want until he got home. He wouldn't be long now. 

But you stood there and read the first two things written which weren't hidden from your view. Contact lawyer. Send check to Nicole.

Who was Nicole? And why was Bradley contacting a lawyer without you? Your skin prickled as you reached for the piece of paper before pushing it further away. You considered going to get your phone from the bedroom to call him and tell him to come home, but instead you stood there and got frustrated. You did not want to do this to yourself again.

When he walked inside a few minutes later wearing snug gym shorts and a white tank, he was all smiles as Tramp ran for his water bowl. "Morning," he rasped, yanking his aviators down lower on his nose as he hung up the leash. "You look cute."

You didn't though. You hadn't showered, and you didn't even brush your teeth yet. "Can we talk about what's on this list?"

His brow furrowed and he froze. "What list?"

"This one," you said as calmly as you could. "The one where you wrote about contacting a lawyer and someone named Nicole."

He made his way over to you and asked, "How much did you read?" as he tossed his sunglasses on the counter.

You crossed your arms over your bump and frowned. "That's all I read."

"Good." He snatched it up, unfolded it and handed it to you. "It's my list of things I want to take care of today or tomorrow."

You read the list from top to bottom.

Contact lawyer

Send check to Nicole for permit

Order album for ultrasounds

Call Bradley Ross

Hot sauce reservation for my Baby Girl

Text Reuben

Offer to babysit Jeremiah

Order a new drill bit to replace the one Jake broke

Decide on Thanksgiving plans

"Oh," you said, meeting his eyes as you handed it back to him. "Who's Bradley Ross?"

He folded up the list again as he said, "The contractor who is going to re-do our attic however you want it."

"Oh." You pressed your lips together before you asked, "Are you going to tell me why you want to talk to a lawyer and who Nicole is?"

"Come here," he rasped, and you tucked yourself into his arms, your lips brushing his paper airplane tattoo. "I want a lawyer to add the Nugget to my will. And I think you should come with me to make sure literally everything is in order. for yourself, too." You nodded against him, and then he added, "And I really don't want to tell you who Nicole is, because it will ruin the surprise. But I've never even met her, and I have no idea who she actually is."

"That sounds weird."

"It's not, I promise, Sweetheart."

You looked up into his eyes, his gaze soft as he ran his hand slowly up and down your back. You already felt better just talking to him. "Fine. Keep your secrets. But the surprise had better be a good one."

He nodded. "It's something for our anniversary. You'll love it. Now why don't you bring your coffee outside and keep me company while I work on the playset?"

You were starting to melt. "I could do that."

"Then we can take a shower together?" he asked hopefully. "You can wash my hair?"

You melted a little bit more. "I would love that."

"And then I'll take you out to dinner."

You sat out on the patio in the sun for a while, not doing much to help Bradley other than occasionally catcall and make sure he drank enough water. Then you took a luxurious shower, complete with hair washing and sex against the wall. He was taking you up to the hot sauce restaurant in Del Mar where you had your first date, and you squeezed yourself into the red dress you wore that night.

Bradley was acting like his brain was short circuiting, and maybe it was. "Holy fucking hell," he groaned, gripping the edge of the dresser when he came to check to see if you were ready to go. He was staring at you like he was in agony as he bit down on his knuckle. He let out a soft wheezing sound before he said, "You're pregnant. In your red dress."

You looked down at yourself; you didn't think it looked that bad. "Yes?"

He rushed forward and grabbed your hand. "That's so fucking sexy. We've gotta go. Now. Or else we'll never leave the house."

"Roo!" you laughed as he pulled you along. "I don't even have shoes on."

He threatened to carry you everywhere before you successfully put on a cute pair of shoes. Then you and he dropped the cookies off at Reuben's place, and you gave the other aviator a kiss on the cheek and thanked him for looking after Bradley. And then the two of you were back in the blue Bronco, winding up the coastal highway as the sun set over the ocean. It was nearly Thanksgiving. It was almost your first wedding anniversary. The Nugget was back to doing somersaults. And finally, you were craving hot sauce again.

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

This man already loves his kiddo. BG is about to have a do over for the steak dinner that got ruined when she was in Annapolis. I still don't know what they are doing for Thanksgiving (good thing it's on his to-do list), but they will definitely be celebrating their first anniversary very soon! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

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[roll-of-royces]

HC: The LaDS Find You as a Neko

This is a request I ran into by @chryssikyu and as I love a good Neko I had fun!

Xavier considers himself to be fairly prepared for the world at large. He's not so simple as most people seem to think he is, but this he did not expect. 

You are asleep, curled up on top of the covers instead of beneath them. That's not the unusual part, the two of you are avid nap takers. Many afternoons have been dedicated to curling up together and falling asleep in the sun. 

This is different. This is different for several reasons. One, you're napping in nothing but a thin white nightdress that barely comes to the mid-thigh. Two, you have two large fluffy looking cat ears. Three, those ears are accompanied by a lush tail that drapes over your thigh as you slumber. 

The fur has a soft pale white sheen. He has no idea how this could have happened, and he's seen so much in his life. Xavier approaches, steps light, as if he is approaching a threat instead of the light of his life. His hand reaches out, tentatively brushing the tip of your new ear. It twitches, not a trick. 

He can't help himself, he sinks onto the edge of the bed, you huff but don't awaken. Before he knows it he has his hand around your tail, dragging downward to feel the soft warmth. You open your eyes, and those too have changed. Your pupils are different, cat like, though still your color. 

"Do you understand me?" He asks carefully. 

You hum, yawn again, and rest your head on his lap, "Xavier." Your voice is the same, still rough with sleep. Still you, just you a little different. 

"What happened?" His hand comes to curl into your hair, it feels softer than it was before. It's nice.

"Dunno." You close your eyes, apparently content to go back to sleep. "Missed you." 

He smiles, because that never gets old to hear. You lean into his hand, arms curling around his waist. Well, he could nap. 

"Move over." He murmurs and you do as asked, knowing well enough he will join you. You'll figure this out in due time. For now he curls atop the bed, with you pressed along his side, tail twitching contentedly as he holds you to him. 

It's not entirely uncommon for Zayne to find you in his office, especially since the two of you started openly stating you're a couple. Sometimes you drop in to see him, sometimes you're only there long enough to leave take-out on his desk before you're gone again. 

Regardless seeing you is always a pleasant surprise. He says your name in greeting, but you keep looking out the window. You're in a hoodie, hood up. It might be Xaviers'. Zayne chews on the jealousy of that for a moment, before letting out a slow breath through his nose. 

You must have been cold. He'll give you his jacket to wear home. You don't look up when he enters, eyes still pinned on something out of the window. He takes another step and sees Clopidogrel hovering on the windowsill. "We should set out some more nuts for him." Zayne says conversationally, walking toward his desk to get the bag he has there for this very purpose. 

Once he's by his desk he gets a view of your face, somewhat shadowed by the hood. There is enough light to see your eyes, the unnatural shape of them. Zayne freezes, scanning you over for injuries. Bag forgotten he heads right for you, watching you track the resident squirrel. 

His hand comes to your chin, pulling your face up to look at him. A doctor's gaze that floods concern through him, he pushes the hood back and is met with twitching fluffy black ears. His thumb pulls your lip up to see the sharpness of some of your teeth. He's heard of this condition only vaguely. 

Harmless, short term. Like the common cold, the tightness in his shoulders relaxes. "Are you alright?" 

Your eyes continue to track the squirrel, "Yes." 

"You can't have him." Zayne informs you, amusement coloring his tone. He'll need to take the rest of the day off at least, make sure you're safe. Your impulsivity will be up, you're likely to do something foolish. 

"Want him." 

He reaches out and pets the top of your head, scratching at your scalp with his nails to distract you from the prey you are being denied. It works, your eyes slip closed, and you lean into his hand. 

"We'll get you some food on the way home." He promises. "Come on, kitten." 

It's the first time he's used the term of endearment but Zayne thinks it might stick. 

Rafayel juggles the bags over one arm as he pushes his studio door open with his foot, calling out as soon as he's through, "If only my bodyguard came with me today. These bags are so heavy!" He gets the door closed, frowning when you don't call out in reply or approach. 

Depositing the bags onto the kitchen counter Rafayel goes off in search of you. He doesn't expect what he finds. You're on the balcony outside of your shared bedroom, in nothing but one of his shirts. Which normally he would not mind, not one bit. 

However. You have a pair of purple ears and a tail to match, a tail that is moving on its own, flicking from side to side. Oh no, oh no. You've got that weird cat sickness. He's read about it, he even had a nightmare once. 

Rafayel rushes toward you, colliding with the balcony railing to look at you. And when you turn to him, ears pivoting, eyes strange he doesn't know what to do. "Are you ... are you alright?" 

You nod, and then step into his arms. He flounders momentarily before he remembers this is you, cat or not, this is you. And he is safe. He is safe. 

His arms wrap around you, as you tuck yourself against his chest. "Play with me, I'm bored." 

Rafayel relaxes further hearing you sound normal, if a bit needy. He likes when you're needy, he likes the fact you need him. "What do you want to do? Not eat me I hope." 

Your eyes spark with mirth, and then you sink your teeth into the side of his neck. He squeaks, but you let go and it didn't really hurt. 

"I'm not on the menu." He scolds. "Find another fish to chew on." 

[simpjaes]

speaking of hoon edging himself for days when you're not available, can you write a quick prompt about how he'd fill up and overflow all your holes when you get back. fuck, he'd be the type to go for ages even after you're all fucked out and overstimulated

reminder that I don't do requests but since you asked for a prompt, i'll write a lil somethin' somethin'.

christmas setting woohoo!

warnings: major edging, a billion orgasms, reader is smaller than him and can be lifted and held up.

wc: 1.4k

Sunghoon, your busy, busy boyfriend. Sunghoon, you're amazingly sweet, loving, and careful boyfriend. Sunghoon, your very, very horny boyfriend.

Honestly, he hates himself every time he does it. Sometimes it's intentional, but this time it wasn't entirely his fault.

It's the first time since you started dating him that you had to go home for a week during the holidays. Which is fine, you've only been dating him since the beginning of the year and it was somewhat expected that you wouldn't be spending christmas with him and him alone. After all, you expected him to go home too.

And he did, which arguably makes his situation worse.

Sunghoon, your needy, pathetic, and annoyed boyfriend.

What's worse is that edging is one thing, but this is just blatant torture. He thought it would be fun to be long-distance for a week. He wanted phone sex, he wanted to see you fuck yourself on camera for him, he wanted you to show him how much you missed him. And that's ultimately where he fucked up.

Because you can barely even respond to his text messages let alone call him for phone sex. Due to sharing a room with your cousin, due to constantly helping your family out with holiday preparations, due to-- doing stuff that doesn't involve helping him out.

You're entirely being distracted from him right now. Family, holiday tradition, and merry joy or whatever.

And you know, it wouldn't be that big of a deal if it weren't for the fact that his libido is far too high to have a girlfriend not on him every night. And by every night, it's really every night.

He's supposed to be distracted, though, with being home too and all. But he's entirely tuned into the fact that he's been so fucking hard since the day after you left. It's almost painful now, especially because something inside of him drives him to enjoy this torture. To try and hold off for the day you both eventually land back in the same city, and he can fuck all of this frustration out of himself and into you.

Plus, um, it's kind of hard to jerk off in his family home surrounded by said family. If anything, he should not be as horny as he is. He should be entirely turned off, and entirely tuned in to wrapping gifts and pretending santa is real.

Which, again, isn't working because with each day that passes, all he can think about is you and how you looked the last night you were together, all pretty with your lashes fluttering up at him. Pretty face, pretty mouth, pretty pussy.

Man, he's gonna fucking explode before this week is up.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Safe to say, Sunghoon did not explode.

But upon looking at him when he storms into your dorm room? He seems pretty fucking close to it. He looks sleepy, spent, and even exhausted.

You were half ready to offer your bed up for a nice little afternoon nap before he came up to you and immediately had his hand down your loose pajama shorts.

"Hoon?" You ask with a light chuckle.

"You couldn't even call me." He very nearly whined, which is kiiind of new to you.

Then it clicks. Right. Your boyfriend and his libido. His sex drive.

Oh my god, he must have been suffering.

"I'm so hard right now," He chokes out, rubbing himself against your thigh. "I've been so hard all week, babe, please."

And he doesn't really need to ask, but it's kind of cute that he does.

"Why didn't you take care of it?" You ask playfully, feeling his frantic fingers work you up so that you're ready to take whatever nightmare amount of cum he needs to give to you.

"Why didn't you take care of it?" He counters, fingers stopping for a moment before he shifts entirely, pulling his hand out of your pants and immediately shoving you back and against the small dorm kitchen counter.

You chuckle, because of course you do. You'll never get used to being needed or wanted so badly by someone, and it fills you with so much joy that he's really this desperate.

"I should maybe leave more often," You smile at him when he's slipping your pants off of you, hiking one of your legs up and against his waist before fumbling with his own pants. "Never seen you this horny--"

He shuts you up fast, your voice only working him up more and more with your stupid, stupid playful words. You're loving this, you must loooove to see him fucking suffer over you.

And then, the only sound that you can hear is the ringing in your ears as he plunges himself into you. Cock already hard and wet, pulsing with the need to fuck something. You, specifically.

It's like neither of you could speak if you wanted to, with his consistent groans and relieved sighs of feeling your pussy squeeze him like he missed so much.

"Missed you, fuck-" He manages to choke out, already nearing the point of orgasm before it slams into him without warning.

It's the first time he's ever come so fast, barely a full ten strokes into you before it happened, but you love it all the same. It felt somehow better than usual. After all, he could go for an hour or more when his sexual appetite is fed nearly every night by you.

Arguably, he appears to be able to go an hour or more now too, as your face falls into that of shock that his orgasm doesn't render him flaccid or spent.

He paused through his first orgasm, feeling it run through his body in a numbing way, only to immediately fuck up and into you harder once it's subsided. He knows he has more to give, so, so much more. A weeks worth of fucking you will be had now.

And man, you feel every inch of him, deeper and deeper until somehow he feels bigger than usual. Somehow he's splitting you open better than he ever has, and he's filling you up with orgasms that have never once lasted as long as the ones he's shaking through now.

A second orgasm comes in the form of him wrapping your other leg around his waist too, where he's essentially holding you up and against the counter absolutely railing your pussy until his legs nearly buckle.

And well, they do buckle. He's careful though, maintaining his balance before tapping your legs without a word and immediately pushing you to the floor. You stared in awe at how his cock is still working through the two orgasms, despite his brain clearly having gone blank the moment he said he missed you.

There, you give him a third orgasm with your throat. It took a little longer, and it only happened when he let it. Holding your head in place with both hands, fucking his hips into you just to feel your throat constrict and strangle his pathetic and still needy cock. You hear his brain start working again through this, and the only words he can mutter is, "it's like you're doing this on purpose, god, look at how you take it."

You take all of it and you taste all of it, again and again as he stumbled in front of you, angling his hips into your mouth to push it deeper, just to come to the point that you're choking. You wish you could have seen the way he chewed against his bottom lip and threw his head back as it happened.

You're so good to him though, letting him take it out on you like this. So, so good to him.

And it didn't stop. For hours he fucked himself into every part of you that you'd allow, offering you several orgasms in turn from sheer force and need alone. He didn't really even try, because for the first time with you, he was solely desperate to focus on himself. To empty his body of this buildup, and to fill you up with how frustrated he's managed to become.

By the next morning, you weren't the only one rendered unable to walk. His own legs felt weak, his head hurt, his eyes were strained at the morning light. But when he looked at you, smiling as if you really would leave more often just to have him lose his goddamn mind like that again, he immediately scolds.

"Why are you smiling like you're gonna do this shit to me again?"

And you'd just smile wider.

"Because I definitely will."

He rolls his strained eyes at you, thinking hard about the fact that as much as he hates not fucking you, he might kind of love the way you make it up to him.

[frannyzooey]

Short Days, Long Nights: 13

Joel Miller x f!reader

Series Masterlist

Rating: E (pregnancy sex, lactation, grief)

A/N: Thank you endlessly for being so patient with me while I've been on hiatus ❤ I'm gonna stay off for another couple weeks, but I didn't want to leave you hanging for too long. I appreciate every single person that has stuck with me on this! Thank you to @the-ginger-hedge-witch and @the-scandalorian for helping me with this one - you both are the biggest brains and the most wonderful writers and I am insanely lucky to have you on my team. Enjoy! ❤

--

Jackson. 

The image of the map is burned into Joel’s mind, always present. 

More concerned with your safety than anything, he knows you should leave, but as the weeks slip by, what picks at him more is that he didn’t have an answer to your question that day. 

“Where are we gonna go?”

He should be one step ahead. He should be on top of the potential outcomes. He should have a plan, since that’s always been his role. Stepped up with one when he had Sarah, took care of Tommy before the Outbreak, and after, led their way in the QZ. After Tommy left, he still did it, even if he was going through the motions more than anything. Doing it has always been second nature, a means to survive. 

You’d let his lack of answer drop because he knew you didn’t want to leave, and of course, he knew you shouldn’t. Not right now. But still - still - he should have had a plan for something he knew was bound to happen sometime. Blinded by the light of your fierce optimism and wanting so badly to believe in it, he simply…didn’t think about it. The first time that’s happened in decades. 

You’re depending on him, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t have an answer ready.

“Where are we gonna go?”

He doesn’t fucking know.  

Wood dust floats to settle on the floorboards around his boots, and he runs a piece of sandpaper over the beam of rough lumber that rests across his lap. The rhythmic sweeps soothe his nerves, and he tries to focus on how good it feels to do something useful with wood again. Something familiar, the dry grain sliding against his palms. A task done because he wants to, instead of as a means to get by like so much else in his life. 

This…this was for him, and for you. 

The late afternoon sun streams through the window in the shed, not quite enough to dissipate the chill. Crisp air breezes in through the open door, the sweet smell of damp leaves blending with the wood and the tips of his fingers are cold enough to stop, but he doesn’t. He has to make the most of your nap times if he wants to get this done before next week. 

Before Christmas - or the closest approximation to the date anyway, using your rudimentary calendar. Celebrating the holiday had been your idea, and like every other time when it came to something you asked for, he couldn’t say no. He said yes when you asked him to cut you a tree, nodded when you pointed to the one you wanted after a trek through the woods, helped you rip strips of red, moth bitten flannel that was worthless for clothing just to watch you tie bows to the end of the branches, as a means to decorate it. 

He was impressed by your constant resourcefulness and ingenuity when it came to the things you’d been given, and at night, when the lantern shone on it and bathed the living room in a cozy glow, it almost did feel like Christmas time. The closest thing to it that he’s felt in years, anyway. 

Placing the sandpaper on the floor and picking up a knife, his mind follows the trail marked on the map. Winding through woods and across open swathes of land, it passes right through your area and he knows it’s only a matter of time before someone else follows the first. He knows that man can’t have been the only one with a map. 

He frowns, gouging the wood a little more forcibly as he works through a knot, and he pictures the curve of your cheek, the delicate line of your neck, the bright happiness in your eyes here. That Christmas tree, in the front room. Torn between the idea of the unknown being just as unsafe as being a sitting duck at the cabin, he is restless with the need to move. The urge to keep you tucked away and protected from the world spreads beneath his skin and grows stronger every day, along with your stomach. 

It’s large enough that it strains against the shirts you’ve borrowed from him, and though you’ve started choosing large sweatshirts instead, it’s begun to push against those too. You’ve begun to sway when you stand in place, an unconscious rock as a means to relieve pressure on your lower back, and he pictures you doing the same with a baby in your arms as you stand next to the cradle that he’s been building.

When he thinks about leaving it behind only to gather dust as he drags you somewhere else, the image eats at him, reminding him too much of another room, left behind to rot. 

Another life, upended by abrupt violence. 

Guilt has always gnawed at him for so many things, and following the mental image of you holding a baby, he adds to the growing list: the idea of another child replacing the one he had. 

He fixates on all the things he couldn’t do for her on that last day but also the things time has robbed from him: the image of her face, the sound of her laugh. The books she liked, the order in which she lost her teeth, the weight of her infant body in his arms. How much of that time he spent without her while trying to provide for her, and how here, he’s got all the time in the world for this new child. His new child. 

More feelings; the knife gouging deeper. Looking forward to a holiday that can’t include her, nervously anticipating holding a baby that belongs to him, looking at you and what you’ve built together and being so fucking happy he missed his mark on that bleak day ten years ago. 

Is it betrayal to feel joy?

He’s not replacing her. He knows that. He knows, and yet the guilt never stops and so neither do his hands nor his mind, both working on fixing other problems that can be fixed. 

Jackson. 

A bed for the baby.

–

“I know it would be cold, but I think I’d rather have snow.”

You look out at the sodden garden, the neat, large borders that surround it blending in with the damp landscape. The fence that Joel built the only visual marker of where it’s at, it’s prepped for winter, buried in a dense layer of leaves and compost. You absentmindedly finger the leaf of a plant you brought inside with you, sheets of rain sliding down the window. 

“Not me,” he says. “Might look pretty, but it would be a whole lot more dangerous.”

The blurred, muted mash of colors outside all blend together, the world a canvas of dingy brown and bleak gray. Everything soggy and limp, everything saturated with wetness: at this very moment, you’d take danger over another day of this. 

Turning away from the depressing sight, you watch him sort through a pile of loose screws and nails on the coffee table. His head bent in his task, his shirt pulls tight across his shoulders as he hunches over and nudges each piece of metal with the tip of his finger, sorting them. Listening to the pleasant clink of them being dropped into glass jars, you go back to watering the plants. 

After a process that had you pouring over the gardening book for days, you left what you could in the garden in order to have a good base for the spring, but took the rest inside, to see if you could keep growing anything through the winter. 

Mismatched buckets and pots, an amalgamation of anything that would hold enough soil to plant a seed in, it was an experiment for sure. Enough was stored in the pantry to get you through the winter if you stayed lean enough about rations, and Joel had been pushing his portions upon you like there was no tomorrow, constantly assuring you that he had plenty. 

“What is this?”

Stopping to stretch his back with a groan, he’s picked up a loose, shapeless scrap of fabric off the couch. 

“Wait –” you protest, setting the watering can down. 

He frowns at it, turning it in his hands, and when you make a hasty grab for it, he keeps it out of your reach with a chuckle.

“This my present, honey?” His facial expression still puzzled, he tries to work out what it is. 

“It’s for the baby,” you explain. Coming to stand next to him, you turn it upright. “See? This is the neckhole, and the arms go here.”

“.......And the legs?”

“I’m not that good at sewing, okay?” you defend yourself with a laugh. “I thought maybe their legs could just hang out in this little…sack area.”

You make a self deprecating face, looking to him for a reaction, and he fingers the bottom of it. 

“That ain’t bad. You should see if you can tie up the bottom, you know, for a draft or somethin’.”

“I used all the spare laces on the pants. I tried to make some, but of course I don’t have elastic and I don’t know how big to make them around the waist for a button, so I thought I could just cut two holes and make like, a little belt so that it would grow with the baby and...”

Your words taper off when you realize he’s staring up at you with an amused expression and you let your shoulders drop in defeat. “This kid is gonna look like they’re from the eighteen hundreds, aren’t they.” 

“I guess you would know, with the books you’re always readin’,” he says with a grin, and the stack of historical fiction next to your side of the bed comes to mind. 

“Oh God,” you moan quietly to yourself. 

Standing with a soft grunt, he bends to press a kiss to the crown of your hair. 

“Don’t worry about it,  honey,” he murmurs. “You about ready for bed? I’m gonna go do a final lap.”

Checking the perimeter of the cabin while you bank the wood stove for the night, he eventually joins you in the bedroom, bringing in the smell of cool night air with him. Already in bed, you’re propped against the headboard with your book in hand, and you admire him as he gets ready for bed himself: the edges of his curling locks catching the light in a glowing chestnut, the warmth held in his tanned skin as he peels off his shirt, the soft give of his still trim stomach as he pads over to bed. He climbs in, adjusting the covers around the two of you. 

“What about Mae?” you ask absentmindedly, skimming the book in front of you. 

He shrugs. “Not bad.”

You make a face at the reception. “What about….Lauren?”

Stretching out on his side to face you, he rests his hand on your bump, smoothing the fabric of your sleep shirt down. A small movement nudges underneath his palm, and the corner of his mouth lifts. An intimate, quiet moment, you keep reading while he chases the constant movements with his touch, his fingers splayed wide, searching. 

“Always so squirrely at night,” he says, the words rounded with softness. 

“Tell me about it,” you sigh. 

You set your book to the side and slide down next to him as he reaches to turn off the lantern, and the two of you lay facing each other, your belly between the length of your bodies. His hand finds your stomach again, and you let yours rest over it, guiding his touch lower. Lower, until the tips of his fingers brush against the band of your underwear and also right where a set of feet (or hands) slide underneath your skin. The taut skin shifts with rapid movement, a sensation that never fails to mesmerize you, but it’s something else when he’s the one who gets to see it. Watching him experiencing it is your favorite. 

“What about Margaret? I’ve always liked that name.”

He makes a face, telling you all you need to know. “What makes you so sure it’s gonna be a girl?” 

You shrug, lifting the hem of your shirt so you can feel his skin on yours, and his hand slides right back into place. 

“Have you thought of any names?” you ask quietly.

“I, uh…I was sorta thinkin’ about June.” His dark eyes flit up to yours. “After June Carter Cash. Or Pearl, after –”

“You wanna name my baby after Pearl Jam?” your eyebrows raise. You’ve heard him humming “Future Days” while working outside, you know the band is a favorite of his. 

He grins at your reaction. “That a no?”

“I should have guessed it would be music related,” you tease with a smile, scooting closer. “I like June. It’s pretty.”

The gentle exploration of his touch soothes you, and you close your eyes to savor it. 

“What about boy names?” you ask. “I can’t really think of any. It’s actually what makes me think it’s a girl, like she’s trying to tell me something.”

“I haven’t thought of too many either. Thomas, for my brother, maybe?”

“That’s a good one.” You yawn, and sleep softly rounds the edges of your words. “Are you ready for next week?”

The preparation of his gift has your hands aching and grasping one with the other, you rub the tender knuckles, working some of the soreness out. Wordlessly, he reaches for your hand and takes it into his own, kneading the joints. 

“I think so. S’kinda nice, havin’ a Christmas.” His touch lingers on the tips of your fingers, warming them. “Too cold in here? I can put another log on if you want.”

“No, it’s just…they ache. They're so swollen they get stiff sometimes. I don’t think the damp is helping.”

You hear it now, peppering the window in the dark. The steady drum of rain on the window, the sound makes the room all the more inviting: warm and safe, his body heat radiating underneath the quilt. He keeps rubbing your fingers, his own larger hands cradling your smaller one, and akin to someone rubbing your back to sleep, the touch lulls you, your eyes fluttering shut. 

“This good?” His mouth brushes lightly against your knuckles, his lips pressing against your fingers before he breathes warm air on them. 

“Mmmm, yea.” Silent for a moment, you speak. “Joel?”

He hums in acknowledgement of his name, and you voice the nightly request you started asking him weeks ago. 

“Tell me what you know.”

A prompt he’s seemingly ready for, he shifts to get comfortable, letting out a sigh. The motion similar to someone getting ready to tell a bedtime story, your reaction to curl tight next to him is the same. 

The first time you asked him this, he barely remembered anything. Other memories taking their place, the finer details of pregnancy and birth were buried deep, most of them forgotten. He remembered the doctor's visits but not the frequency. The general concept of birth but not the stages. The pain, but as someone who didn’t go through it, he couldn’t tell you what labor actually felt like. 

All guesses and long ago recollections, you took them because they were better than nothing. Tonight, he tells you about the night feedings. 

“Babies, they uh…” he begins in his gravely, lowered voice, trying to speak softly in the darkness. “You know they eat every couple of hours or so for a while after they’re born. Weeks of it.”

You nod against his shoulder, listening to his deep drawl. 

“I don’t remember much because when you don’t get a lot of sleep it all tends to blur together, y’know? But I do remember some of them. Peaceful, sometimes. Everything is so quiet and still, and there ain’t nothin’ but you and them, sittin’ together.”

He stops, and you reach up to brush your fingers along the edge of his jaw, just enough to let him know you’re listening. He sighs, a heavy, contemplative thing. 

“They are so small in your hands. So small it’s scary. I remember bein’ so careful, always feelin’ like I was gonna accidentally hurt her, or –” his breath hitches, and he swallows hard. He’s silent for a moment, and your breath slows and evens out. “Anyway, they don’t let you get any sleep, not for a few months, but sometimes….sometimes, you don’t mind.”

Your body loose and relaxed next to his, you’re on the edge of sleep when the words tumble softly out of your mouth. 

“Joel?”

“Yea?” 

“I’m scared.” The confession is whispered into his bare skin, and you breathe in his comforting, familiar smell, the steady drum of his heart beating underneath your cheek. His hand is a weighty drag down the line of your spine, the feeling of it steadying you. 

The wind blows outside, rain pelting the glass. 

“I know, honey,” he answers. “Me too.”

–

Long after you’ve fallen asleep, he stays awake, his mind lost in a memory. 

Her tiny body rigid with deceiving strength, he struggles to force her arm into a small sleeve. His hand is huge compared to her fragile arm, her skin downy soft under his palm, and moonlight shines through the window in her bedroom just enough to light the features of her scrunched, upset face. A small wail pierces the darkness, and succeeding in dressing her, he lifts her up. 

One hand cupping her entire bottom with the other covering her back, he makes low shushing sounds with his mouth to soothe her, inhaling the milky sweet smell that clings to her skin. 

“Hey baby girl, shhh. I got you. I got you.”

Her tiny face burrows into his chest, her body squirming until she gets comfortable, and he keeps soothing with low hums, his hand rubbing a slow circle over her purple pajamas as she settles. 

Moving slowly so as not to disturb her, he sits down in the rocking chair and continues to hold her; the carpet plush under his bare foot that gently pushes off the floor. His sleep blurred eyes focus on the small turn of a glass butterfly that hangs from her window, the rounded curves catching the moonlight as she sleeps on his chest. 

He lets the unearthed, vivid memory wash over him as his chest constricts, the pain suffocating. Finding himself in this position more and more since you started asking him about what he remembers, he closes his eyes and succumbs to the pain: worth it, to see her face again. To remember things he’d thought he’d forgotten. 

The edges of the memory blur and crumble, his mind losing its focus on that purple room and on the cusp of sleep, he tries to grasp and hold on tight to the details until they fade away. 

–

“Keep your eyes closed, okay? Wasn’t much to wrap with.” 

Anticipation thrums through you, your features lax with fondness as you wait patiently on the living room floor with your eyes closed. A fire crackles in the wood stove next to you, shadows pooled in the corners of the living room where the light doesn’t reach, and you scoot a little closer to absorb more heat. 

Never one to linger in bed, he’s been up since dawn, and when you awoke alone, there was a  weighted, peaceful stillness in the air—a significance to the day that was at best, a guess. Still, you felt it all the same: through drinking tea with him on the back porch this morning, through reading on the couch this afternoon, through helping him prep the small feast you allowed yourselves for dinner. 

You hear and feel a shift in the air when he comes to sit in front of you, setting your present at your feet. 

“Okay, you can open ‘em.”

Laughter bubbles bright and loud when you see what it is.

“Joel Miller, you shouldn’t have.” Picking up the bottle of vinegar, you tilt it in the light to see how much is left: about half, which is a find indeed. “How long have you been hiding this?”

He shrugs, looking pleased with your reaction. “Not too long. I found it when I went to check out that last cabin. I know it’s not a lot, but I thought it would be useful.”

Vinegar means pickling, means cleaning, means acid for the soil of your plants that you moved inside for the winter, and even though the label is half peeled off and the contents might not be as potent as they once were, you have never been so happy to see a bottle of the stuff in your life. 

“Thank you,” you say softly, leaning forward as much as you can, presenting your lips for a kiss. He gives you one, and you pull back, your mouth twisted in an apologetic pout. “This is a way better gift than what I got you.”

“That’s not true,” he argues. “You fixed my favorite jacket. Feels brand new.”

After snagging it on a tree branch while hunting, he had been so disappointed when he inspected the size of the rip when he came home. Handing it to you, he had declared it no good anymore and told you to use it for something else, but knowing it was his favorite, you’d been mending it in secret while he went out for the day. Textiles being a scarcity aside, that jacket was also your favorite: it’s the one he’s been wearing since you first started out; the sight of it comforting to you. 

“I actually got you somethin’ else, but you’ll have to close your eyes again.”

You automatically squeeze your eyes shut, your hands playfully grabbing the air as you squirm on the floor, and the sound of his low chuckle makes you smile wider. Hearing the front door open and then close, you frown when the object he places at your feet sounds heavy.

“Okay, open em’ up.”

It’s immediate, the way your expression drops from delight into something more reverential. Your breath frozen in your lungs, you reach out and touch the smooth edges of the cradle. Tracing the perfectly fit together corners, you take in how small it is – so small - but perfect. 

Your eyes lift to meet his, tears blurring your vision. “Did you make this?”

“Yea,” he replies softly. “I kept in the shed, workin’ on it when you were napping. I knew we needed somewhere to put her, so I thought –”

“Her?” Your fingers brushing along the neat edges, you look up at him with a small, watery smile, and he matches it with a soft one of his own. 

“Sure, why not. You’ve convinced me.” Affection is open and obvious on his face, the lines that normally crease his forehead softened as he watches you look it over. 

“This is…so much, Joel. It’s beautiful. I don’t even know how…I was thinking we’d have to put her in a dresser drawer or something, and I –” Overwhelmed with his thoughtfulness, you’re at a loss for words. “Thank you,” you eventually settle on, hoping the sincereness in your words expresses everything you feel. 

“You look so surprised,” he says, teasing laced in his tone. “Did you really think I would get you just a half bottle of vinegar for Christmas?” 

“I don’t know!” you laugh, a hitch in your breathing as you settle your emotions. “We can’t exactly go Christmas shopping, so I figured you did the best you could.”

He reaches to swipe a tear from the round of your cheek, and you chase the heat of his palm, leaning into it. “It’s been so long since I gave anyone a Christmas present. Glad I’m not totally out of practice.”

Gently sliding the cradle out of the way, you rise to your knees to give him a kiss. 

“I love it.”

You kiss him again, his lips tinted red from the wine at dinner, and the bitterness sweeps through your mouth when he gifts you a slow slide of his tongue. The tentative heat held in his response passes to you, and swallowing his hunger, it spreads through your limbs to pool between your legs. Pressing forward, your hand reaches out for his shirt, and you deepen the kiss.

You hope it conveys everything you want to put into words but can’t: appreciation, love, gratitude. Keeping your mouth on his, you slip your hand around the back of his neck and threading your fingers up through his locks, you hold him in place, his hand grasping your elbow to steady you as a soft sound rumbles from his throat. 

“I guess you really liked it.”

You just nod, pulling him in for another kiss, his familiar taste and scent filling your senses as he presses himself closer, and when you let out the catch of a moan in your throat, he pulls back just far enough for you to see hooded want in his eyes.

“We done with the gift exchange?” He presses a kiss to your your throat, his lips warm and delicate over the skin he finds and you nod, letting him taste.

“Here,” he asks, his mouth moving just below your ear, “or in the bedroom?”

“Here,” you breathe, cupping his whiskered cheeks to pull his mouth back to yours. Your hand slips between his thighs, finding him half hard under his jeans, and groaning into your mouth, he shifts on the floor to kneel in front of you. Your fingers work the buttons of his flannel open, pushing it from his shoulders at the same time he grabs the hem of your shirt to work it over your head and off. Undoing your bra, you fling it onto the floor as his hand reaches back to tug his t-shirt off in a smooth, overhand motion, and your hands drop to his belt buckle, tugging it open.  

The back of your knuckles swipe through the line of coarse hair that leads under the waistband of his jeans, a slight shakiness to your movements betraying the need you feel, and it’s something he sees and rewards with another consuming kiss.

The rest of your clothes tugged off in a rush, he rests his back against the couch and guides you onto his lap, the soft inside of your thighs straddling the outside of his firmer ones. One of the only comfortable positions you’ve got left, it’s been your favorite because it gives him unfettered access to your breasts and when he palms them in appreciation, anticipation sends a warm thrill up your spine. 

Using both his hands, he cups the sides of your jaw to draw you in, holding you in place while he opens your mouth with his, his tongue sliding smoothly against yours. His fingertips dig into the nape of your neck, one hand dropping to palm the plush weight of your breast, and you kiss him back even harder while he delicately teases your nipple with his thumb. 

The calloused pad skims over the top of it, the contrast between the tender touch and the fierceness of his kisses making your head swim with arousal, and pulling back, he takes in your kiss-swollen mouth only for a moment before bending his attention to your breast. 

Using the cradle of his hold, he pushes it up to draw the peak of it into his mouth, and your head tips back, a broken cry coming from your throat. 

“Please. Please.”

He would give you anything – anything – you ask for, and this is no different. He laves his tongue over the peaked bud, dragging firm pressure over it as he draws it into his mouth, and when you dig your fingers into his hair and pull with a moan of pleasure, his hand cups the underside of your breast to push more in. Frenzied, rough, desperate for more, a deep groan slides out of his throat at the same moment you feel a strange, tingling sensation on your nipple. 

Surprise shows in his brown eyes when they flick up to yours, and pulling back, you both stop. 

“Was that –” you ask, and he looks down at your breast, his thumb dragging delicately along the peak. 

“Yea, I think it was,” he answers, slightly mesmerized. 

A drop of milky liquid hangs from the tip of your breast, and he wipes it away, smearing it on your soft skin. Another one takes its place, and his eyes flicker with interest. 

“Holy shit.” 

The words slip out faster than you can stop them, and the corresponding lift of his eyebrows makes you laugh, his own deeper chuckle joining your lighter one. He pulls you in for a kiss right as you’re leaning down for one, and you find there was no hunger lost while the moment was broken; instead it comes back even stronger as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and he holds onto your back with a splayed grip so fierce it makes you squirm. 

Unsure of when you started grinding your hips against his, you work them slightly faster. Spread and wet on his lap, you’re so achingly empty right over where you can feel the heft of him pressing between your bodies, and fire lights under your skin with how much you want him to just take. 

He’s been so careful with you, so considerate in his handling of your body these last few weeks. Always taking care of every need that you have, he’s done so with no less attentiveness, but you can tell that he’s been holding back—a telling rigidness to his muscles when he moves above you, a tightness to his strokes every time he fucks you as if he’s keeping his body  in check to make sure he doesn’t lose himself. Missing the sharp edges to his love, you kiss him harder, and he groans as if in pain, his tongue sliding deep into your mouth. His beard rubs your chin raw, the pressure of his response forcing your body to tip back slightly in his hold.

“Fuck me,” you whine, the words breathless against his lips, and he groans again, breaking your kiss. 

“Christ, honey, turn around.”

Desperate to follow anything he tells you to do, you grip his shoulder to steady yourself as you turn yourself around, your back to his front. His mouth is an immediate brush against the nape of your neck, a heady sensation that has you melting back into him, and his hands travel up your sides to cup your breasts, pulling at the peaks. 

Your ass grinds in his lap, the thick, stiff line of his cock trapped between your bodies, and when you arch your back and lean forward in a silent invitation, he reaches down to line himself up. Easing yourself back down, the stretch is delicious but so tight it’s almost unbearable. 

“Goddamn,” he groans over your breathless whine. 

Wrapping your smaller hands around his thick wrists for purchase, you pull at your bottom lip with your teeth as you sink all the way down to the base, and when he’s fully seated inside you, he bands his arms just under your breasts in a tight hold, keeping you in place. You can feel how hard he’s breathing between your shoulder blades, his beard rubbing against your skin, and squirming in his lap with a soft sound, you start to roll your hips. 

He’s so deep this way, so much deeper than he’s been in weeks, and taking a moment to get used to it with a couple of slick strokes down, you chase the thick, filling stretch of his cock. Leaning forward, you brace your hands on his knees, and the deep groan you hear from behind you makes you wetter; your body physically reacting to his wordless praise. 

“You feel so fucking good, honey. So good.”

His hands traverse your back—one splayed wide to drag heavily down your spine, the other curled around your hip to guide your movements–and when you bend forward as much as your stomach allows, his hand drops to your ass, spreading you from behind. 

“I wish you could see how wet my cock is. I want you to see how you’re soakin’ it.”

“I can feel it,” you moan, your hips working faster. 

You can: every down stroke is smooth and audible, the tight walls of your cunt stretching around him to take him perfect and fluid every single time, and when you start to pull him deeper, he sits forward with a cinch, pulling you back towards his body. The solid, warm wall of his chest cages you in, his arm looping around your hip so his hand can reach your clit, and when he finds it, everything spreads warm and thick from your center outwards, your head tipping back to rest against his shoulder. 

“There’s my girl,” he smiles when your body drapes pliant and loose against his, your hips chasing the pressure of his fingers. Forward into his touch and backwards onto his cock, you can hear him breathing heavy and low into your ear and your hands find his forearms to hold on tight, your nails digging into the thick muscles as you work yourself faster. 

He rubs your clit in quicker, more precise circles, just right with the firm slip of two calloused fingers, and your thighs tighten in their tremble, your release a bright, shining edge that beckons. 

When it happens, it breaks you – clamping tight around him as you’re suspended in a state of strained rapture, his hand comes up to cradle the base of your throat in a possessive hold while his other hand keeps working, and a second wave takes you by surprise, washing over your skin as you cry out. You can feel the wetness that soaks his fingers when he reaches down to feel where you’re stretched around him, letting out a groan against your skin. 

His hand smears damply across your hip as he lifts you from his lap, slipping out as he guides you on to your hands and knees, and loose and pliant, you let him position you anyway he wants. 

“Just a little more, honey. Just a little longer,” he coaxes. 

Resting your cheek on the floor, you arch your back to put yourself on display for him as you catch your breath, but it’s stolen just as quickly when he gives you a rough, open mouthed kiss to your cunt. He eats you like a man starved, the wet muscle of his tongue flattening against you as he keeps you open with his hands splayed on your ass, and a deep rumbled groan is felt against the inside of your thighs when you reach back to tug on his hair. 

His tongue dips deep inside you for a taste, and just when he pulls back, he goes in for more, like he’s changed his mind because he can’t get enough. Harder this time, more forceful, the action pushing your hips forward, and when you cry out, he’s dragging himself back, pulling away to position himself. 

The heat of his body radiates along the back of your thighs, the thick tip of his cock notched against the slick dip of your entrance only for the barest of moments before he pushes himself in with a stroke of his hips, and you hear a hiss behind you, one you almost don’t catch over the low moan that spills out of your mouth.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans, his hips fitting neatly along your ass. He slides out and then back in, giving you time to adjust to his size. “I want – Christ – I want…can you take it harder for me?”

“Yes. God yes. Please.”

He answers with a rougher slide in, an audible muted pound of his hips against your skin. “You tell me if it’s too much, honey, okay?”

After turning your head and nodding so he can see you, he gives you another rough, smooth stroke in and then another one, each one filling you until the air feels like it’s being pushed from your lungs, and then he picks up his pace, letting out a low, heavy breath for every thrust. It sounds obscene: his rumbled, low groans and grunts, but you can barely focus on it for how sensitive you are to his thickness. Everything tighter, the fit is a snug, slick slide in every time, and you squeeze around him, earning you another hiss of appreciation. 

“This pussy is gonna kill me,” he groans and then holds nothing back: his hips snapping against you with his hand resting flat on your tailbone, every jolt rocking your body forward. 

Exactly what you asked for and what you’ve been missing, you let him know. 

“It feels…it feels so good. God I’ve missed this.”

“Yea?” The word is a breathless growl, and you clench down on him again. “What about this? Did you miss this too?”

His hands wrapping around the inside of your elbows, he tugs you back and up until your back is arched with your ass in his lap and then he’s pounding into you. 

“Joel!” 

Faster and harder, his hips work ceaselessly behind you for a dozen strokes and when he comes, his fingers dig tight into your skin, your arms aching as he holds you in place to take every last drop. Panting behind you, his strokes slow into a rhythmic grind and sliding out, he eases you gently down onto the floor where you slump, your cheek resting on the fold of your arms.

Dazed and loose, with a content smile on your lips, you lay down on your side and he joins you, dropping to the floor. His arm slung over his eyes, you watch his pulse pound in his neck as he tries to catch his breath. 

“So…was that also a Christmas present, or….?” you tease, the question coming out slow and saturated with contentment, and he laughs, a breathless thing that’s carefree and deep. 

“Sure,” he answers, rolling onto his side. “Merry Christmas.”

The light of the flames dancing across your bare body, shadows slide over his tanned skin and the bluntness of his reply makes you laugh. 

The two of you look at each other for a moment, his hand coming up to brush away an errant lock of hair from your temple. His hand glides down the length of your torso, coming to rest on the swell of your stomach and leaning in, his mouth meets yours.  

Still smiling, you cup his cheek and with a slick slide leaking between your thighs, pull him closer to deepen the kiss.

[eras-mus]

hi can i request jamil with a scarabia first year (platonic and male reader) who is his iago. like the reader is a beastman bird or just wears feathered accessories, is brutally honest as it is to be comical to others, knows jamil's true nature and is his partner in crime.

Birds Of A Feather

Jamil Viper x Platonic! Macaw! Male Reader

Summary: Y/n was one of the most extravagant students in Scarabia, from his beautiful multi-colored wings to his elegant outfits. Everyone knew him. How could you not? He was loud, funny, and left a trail of feathers. He seemed to be the opposite of his best friend, Jamil Viper.

★I love this idea so much!!!

★Takes place during the 4th book

-

No one would have ever guessed Y/ns true intentions.

It just goes to show how misleading appearances are in this world.

At least that's what Yuu told themself as they walked back to the Scarabia dorm, sand in their shoes, betrayal lingering in the air.

"You look so beautiful all dressed up." That was the first thing Yuu ever told Y/n "Why are you dressed up?"

"I feel the most like myself when I'm dressed like this"

That moment would be the beginning of a friendship that was more valued by Yuu than Y/n.

As the group continued on their long walk back to the Scarabia dorms conversation of missed signs began.

"Kalim, did Jamil ever seem unhappy in your company?"

"How long had Jamil been working for your family?"

"How much work did he do?"

Most of these questions were answered by a sobbing Kalim, who had to take multiple breaths in-between each word, but there were some that Azul was able to answer, thanks to his extensive knowledge of every student on the campus.

"What about Y/n?" Yuu piped up; voice slightly cracking "Did he ever seem off?"

"And then Azul overblotted, because that's just the luck I have in this world-" Yuu sighed, recapping the events of winter break to Y/n. "And, like always, I had to take care of it myself because Crowley is never any help."

"I wish I could say I was surprised by Azul." Y/ns wings twitched slightly, a couple feathers falling stray. "He always seemed rather fragile, similar to Kalim in that sense."

Y/n had brought up his house-warden multiple times to Yuu. He would tell them how reckless and childish Kalim was, like a baby everyone had to walk on eggshells around. Yuu never saw the same dark look in Y/ns eyes like when he was talking about Kalim.

"Anyway-" Y/n spoke, switching back to his typical demeanor, "-What do you think of my hair, I wanted to try a new style to show off my new earrings!"

"I don't know Yuu, he and you were close, so wouldn't you know if there was something off." Azul made eye contact with Yuu, letting his words sink in.

"I can't recall..." Yuu replied, lying through their teeth. "He was always so honest."

"Well apparently he wasn't."

The group fell silent after that, soon everyone returned to their thoughts and reflections about the recent events.

It was a bright sunny afternoon, Y/n and Ruggie had decided to skip clubs to hang out with Yuu, Grim was taking a nap somewhere unknown. They were sitting in the shade of a tree near the Ramshackle dorm, laughing until they couldn't breathe.

"So, I was thinking about getting a haircut" Yuu started "Something super short, what do you think?"

"Maybe..." Ruggie trailed off.

"Absolutely not, no, never let that thought go through your mind again." Yuu's jaw dropped, while Y/n kept a straight face.

Ruggie burst out laughing, falling back, head landing on Y/ns lap. That moment was perfect in Yuu's mind. No stress. No Chaos. Just sweet bliss.

"I miss him" Yuu whispered to themself.

"Who? Y/n?" Kalim responded, appearing right next to them.

Yuu looked around to make sure no one else was listening before responding. "Yeah, Y/n."

"I miss Jamil..." Kalim sighed. "Ya know, him and Y/n were close?"

"Yeah, Y/n would always go to Jamil for help with schoolwork" Y/n laughed. "I always thought it was weird because he was a mediocre student, but he always promised that he was some sort of genius."

"I thought Jamil was my best friend" Kalim sobbed.

Yuu hugged him.

"I know how you feel." That was all Yuu could mutter out before crying with him.

[lanternadosafogados]

You're thinking about your home and feeling the weight of longing. What the Dorm Leaders would do to make you feel better?

Malleus Draconia

∆ Malleus understands you, somehow. Himself having passed for a situation where his heart felt heavy and hurt by this powerful feeling.

∆ He comes by your dorm, stopping at the usual spot and doesn't take much time for you to notice and go join him.

∆ He notices your reddened eyes, knowing you were crying. His right hand goes to your face, caressing your cheek while he looks at you with a soft expression.

∆ “Do you want to talk?” The question is made without words. And even if you say no he will stay with you until you feel better.

Leona Kingscholar

∆ Alright…. Maybe this man isn't the best with the sentimental thing. But let him cook.

∆ He invited you to his dorm to watch something or have a nap together. Even so he notices that your mind isn't with your body right now.

∆ He can be a little headstrong, but he knew you had been crying. And even more that you aren't done.

∆ A sharp sound of surprise escapes you when he evolves his arms around you to push you close to him. Your face is almost buried against his neck.

∆  “Do as you want and we don't have to talk about this.” His tone is harsh as usual, but it's clear that he's here for you.

Azul Ashengrotto

∆ Already talking about the elephant in the room: Azul isn't exactly good with his own feelings. But he's more than willing to put it aside and help you.

∆ You take a seat at the Octavinelle dorm bar, your fingers lazily contouring table decoration. Azul watches you as he, himself, prepares a drink for you.

∆ He can feel his stomach heavy with worry as he looks at you, red eyes and a gloomy aura. He wants to make you feel better somehow. His eyes then fall over the food section of the bar… maybe he has an idea.

∆ You look up at him when you notice his approach. “Here. This is on the house.” He's smiling as he serves you the drink and what seems to be a piece of cake with a little heart drawn on the top.

∆ The heart is a little crooked and Azul knows it by the way he's blushing. He didn't say anything, not wanting to pressure you, but this little gift brings a warm sensation to your chest.

Vil Schoenheit

∆ Vil noticed something was wrong the moment you two were chatting by messages. Your answers short and dry makes him feel a little worried and that's how you ended being invited to his room. 

∆ The way your eyes were red it was obvious you had been crying. Seeing you this way made Vil’s chest hurt in worry. “What's wrong dear? You don't look like yourself.”

∆ He listens to you venting about missing home. The things you used to do there, the people you used to share your life with. And the fear of not being able to go back to them, his hand never leaving yours.

∆ Then an idea crossed his mind and he excuses himself as he goes to his closet. You watch him with curiosity when he comes back with a well cared for shirt, only when it's in your hands you notice that the piece is old.

∆ He explains how this shirt gives him a feeling of comfort when he's feeling down. And now, he wants you to feel the same way because he is giving it to you.

Riddle Rosehearts

∆ Riddle invited you to an afternoon tea. And even if his attention is everywhere to make sure everything is going alright he still notices that you don't seem fine.

∆ “[Name]. I noticed that you seem a little distant. Did something happen?” You play with the handle of your cup before answering him and explain your worries of not coming back home and not seeing your family and friends again. He listens in silence, letting you vent.

∆ When you finish he gets up from his chair and approaches you while extending his hand for you to hold. And with your hand in his he leads you inside of his dorm building, taking you to his Room.

∆ Will you ever be surprised by how clean and organized his room is? But you don't have time to focus on that now as you two stop in front of his bookshelf. The bookshelf is higher than both of you and has more books than you've ever seen your classmates use.

∆ He invites you to choose one at the same time he picks some of his favorites and lends them to you. He enjoys reading, it is an activity that makes him feel better and helps to pass time. And If it's the same for you, the book you liked the most is now yours.

Idia Shroud

∆ Idia can be the personification of a gloomy aura. But he is still a person and cares deeply about you. Between his studies and responsibilities as  a dorm leader he makes sure to spend time with you, even if It's by a voice call.

∆ The way your voice is low and slurred, the way you get behind at the game you two are playing he's getting more and more worried. Biting his nails as he thinks about how to address the  situation.

∆ [N-Name]... Are you ok?” He finally asks and for a moment you don't say anything. He starts to think he upset you, but then you start talking about how you miss home and your family and friends back there. Worried that maybe you never see them again.

∆ He listens to you and, deep down, he kinda understands you. He also knows that he is not the best at giving advice or sweet words, but he wants to let you know he's here for you.

∆ He is sincere by saying that he can't make this feeling go away, nevertheless he wants to help you go through this. Then sends to you links for games and music playlists that makes him think about you to try to cheer you up.

Kalim Al-Asim

∆ Kalim comes to your dorm so you two can do homework together. And even if he's not the most studious in the school, he finds himself ahead of you in the alchemy essay. But don't underestimate him, he notices that.

∆ He looks at you with a worried expression, watching how you scribble in the corner of your notebook. “[Name]. You don't seem fine. Something happened?”

∆ You look at him, almost wanting to cry. You try your best to explain how you're missing home, missing your friends and family. And how not knowing If you'll ever come back makes you feel a little depressed.

∆ Kalim bites his bottom lip as he hears you, his arms involving your body almost naturally as he listens to you carefully. He wants to make you feel better and that's when he has an idea, telling you to come to his dorm in two hours.

∆ You do as he said, being received with a surprise. In the common area of the Scarabia dorm you see food, a lot of food and a smiling Kalim looking at you. A little party made only for you to try cheer you up.

Here i am with more Twisted Wonderland content. Hope you all like <33

[specialagentlokitty]

Aizawa x reader - home

A/N: This idea is from @nyxiethesimp thank you! 💜

Grinning from ear to ear, you planted your hands on your hips as you looked at the hero in front of you.

“Hi!”

“You’re not supposed to be on patrol.” He said.

You shrugged a little bit, walking over to stand next to him as he overlooked the ward from the building that he was stood on.

He sighed heavily, turning around to go back to overlooking the city with you.

“Why’re you on patrol Grim? You were told to be on bed rest for a month.”

“And it’s been a month Eraser, I’m good as new!”

He glanced over at you.

“Go home.”

“Come on, I’m already out, please!”

You grinned from ear to ear again, and he let out a heavy sigh, looking away from you.

“Fine, just don’t go getting into trouble again.”

“Deal!”

You happily carried on standing there with him, just enjoying his company.

Since you could never be sure who was listening or who was around, you guys didn’t talk much, and when the sun started to rise, wondered away, heading back home.

Getting changed into some shorts and an oversized hoodie, you made breakfast and had on the table ready when the door was opened again.

Aizawa came padded in, standing in front of you with his hands in his pockets and you laughed softly at him.

Reaching up, you unravelled his scarf carefully, and set it on the counter behind you.

Then you took his goggles off as well, setting that on the side as well before turning back to him.

“Coffee?”

He nodded his head, and you turned around to make his coffee for him, while you were doing that he stood behind you with his head in your shoulder.

Brining your hand up, you brushed some hair from your shoulder, resting your head on his as he set two cups of coffee down.

Aizawa reached around you for both the cups of coffee, then walked over to the table, setting them down, pulling your chair out for you.

You smiled at him, sitting down, letting him push your chair back in, kiss the top of your head, then took his own seat.

“You have an appointment this afternoon.” He said.

You hummed, nodding your head.

“Yeah, it’s just to make sure everything’s healing the way it should so it won’t be long.”

Aizawa got up, dragging his chair around and he tapped your leg, letting you know that he wanted it, so you put your legs in his lap.

He gently checked your right leg, examining over the surgical scars, making sure they looked alright.

“See, told you darling.”

“Yeah, you did.”

Grabbing his breakfast, you slid it over for him, then got up to carry on about your day.

When Aizawa went to sleep, you decided to take a small nap as well, only waking up when your alarm went off, and you rolled over to turn it off.

Aizawa reached out, reaching out, pulling you back into his chest and you laughed, rolling over.

You brushed some hair from his face, seeing he was awake.

“I have to go to my appointment.”

“You’ve got time.”

“Shota I love you, but I need to get up, come on.”

Leaning forward, you gave him a kiss, and he grinned a lazy grin, letting you go.

“Asshole.”

Getting changed, you walked around his side of the bed, kissing him once more as you grabbed his hoodie from the floor, pulling it on.

“I’ll come home soon, I love you.”

“Love you too.” He hummed.

You covered him back up with the quilt then left, making your way to your apartment.

Aizawa was supposed to go with you, but after being called out last night, you didn’t want to drag him out during the day.

You didn’t even make it to your appointment, when you were walking there you heard somebody cry out for help and without thinking you ran to go help.

You didn’t have your suit, or your weapon, but you had a duty to help people in need, so you dove into the action head first.

You quirk wasn’t supposed to be used in head on battle, so all you had was your own strength, trying to save as many people as you could from the villains.

Aizawa woke up to the sound of his phone ringing, and when he rolled over he answered it, thinking it was you.

“Hey…” he mumbled.

He sat up when he didn’t recognise the voice in the other end, and dropped his phone when he jumped out of bed.

Throwing on some clean clothes, he ran out of the apartment towards the car, heading straight to the hospital.

He ran into the reception, where he was led to a room and finally he was greeted by a doctor who wore a grim look on her face.

“I’m so sorry sir. We did everything we could but the damage it was just… it was too much…”

Aizawa threw the door open, walking over to the bed and the doctor pulled the sheet down from your face, leaving the room quietly.

Reaching out, he brushed some hair from your face, wiping a bit of dirt from under your eye with his thumb.

Walking over to the sink, he grabbed some tissue and put it under water, making his way back over to clean your face.

You never liked having a dirty face, you always had to clean it if you got even a little bit of dirt on it.

Once he was done, he sat next to you on the bed, holding your hand in his, slowly feeling the warmth drain from your body.

“You said you’d come home…” he muttered.

He stayed there for as long as they would let him, then when he had to leave, he got up, taking your necklace with him.

He never could find out what really happened that day, there was various reports saying different things, and the other heroes refused to tell him.

He never told anybody about your funeral, only a few close friends between you both, and he held it at night away from the press.

But he still did everything for two like he always did, when he made coffee, there was always a cup for you, there was always a plate for you.

It was habit, and he couldn’t stop, partly for doing it for so long, and partly because he didn’t want to stop because if he did he had to accept that you were actually gone.

You were never that far from him, wherever he went you always went with him.

He couldn’t see you, or hear you, but you stayed with him watching over him.

“Why do you watch him?”

You turned to the ghost next to you.

“I can’t return to my physical form yet, so I want to stay with him until I can.”

The lady sighed softly, giving you a sad smile.

“They all move on, it takes time but eventually he’ll move on as well. You going back might hurt him even more.”

“I… never thought about it that way.”

You looked back at Aizawa who was sitting down next to Hizashi in the staff room.

They were talking about students for the new semester of UA, and you sighed softly, looking as he turned to the photo of you on his next.

“(Y/N) would be proud you know.”

Aizawa didn’t say anything, he simply just got up and left the room.

“Maybe it would be better….”

You decided to stay away from him, going back to reassure new spirits, making it easier for them to adjust and pass into the next life.

Because of this you stopped seeing Aizawa, knowing that he was slowly moving on.

The thing about spirits was that they talked, so when they started saying about an incident going on at the USJ, you were immediately on high alert.

Your physical body had returned to you, it took time, but you kept yourself in your spiritual form, just to stay hidden, but it meant you now had your scythe and your costume back.

You wasted no time in running to the USJ, hearing whispering of eraser head and his students being in trouble.

It was the spirits warning you about it, telling you to go and help him, that’s exactly what you were going to do.

Running through the wall, you followed where the spirits were all pointing, and you yelled, swinging your scythe.

“Leave them alone!”

The blue haired man barely managed to dodge your attack, and you stood in front of him, looking at Aizawa behind him.

Returning to spiritual form, you swung your scythe for the Nomu pinning him to the ground, killing it with no hesitation.

You knelt over Aizawa in of protective manner, keeping a hand on his back.

The blue haired man charged for you, but froze when he realised his quirk wasn’t going to work, Aizawa was using his.

You weren’t focused on anything else but Aizawa and those students.

Thankfully the battle didnt last much longer, and when the villains left you knelt in front of Aizawa, hauling him into your arms, brushing his hair from his face.

“You’re not here…”

You smiled sadly, placing your hand over his heart.

“It’s not your time yet darling…”

He took a shaky breath.

“You left too soon…” he whispered.

“I’m so sorry…”

You helped him up, over to the green haired boy.

“Will you look after him?”

“Y..yes!”

You smiled softly, standing up, helping the green boy put Aizawa on his back, and you picked up your scythe.

“Who are you?” He asked.

You turned around, giving a sad smile.

“It’s not important.”

With that, you were gone from sight.

You thought Aizawa wouldn’t remember with being in the brink of death, but he did.

He remembered seeing you as clear as day, remember feeling you, feeling your hand on his chest and you holding him.

He thought maybe you’d show yourself, maybe you’d be there at home waiting but you weren’t.

Even the students confirmed seeing you, they’d asked him who you were, asking about a hero that looked like you.

Finally after searching everywhere else he went to the only other place he could think off.

He stood there at your headstone, staring down at your name, the he looked at the headstone.

“You know my quirk won’t work on you.”

There was a sigh, and your body shimmered into view, not quite in physical form, but not spiritual, in between which is what you did when you wanted to be seen but not touched.

He stared at you, eyes locked with yours before he turned around and walked away.

“Shota?”

“I just wanted to see if it was true.”

You walked in front of him, tears brimming your eyes as you looked at him.

“I thought it would be easier on you if I didn’t come back….”

He activated his quirk, cancelling yours, then he released his quirk, and you did the same.

“How long?”

“A few months…”

He slowly nodded his head.

“I’m so sorry…”

You sank to your knees, resting your head on the grass and began to cry into the grass.

You just kept saying how sorry you were, and Aizawa knelt down, placing his hand on your back.

You looked up, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his lap, letting you cry into his chest, and he buried his face into your shoulder.

“You idiot…”

You let out a strained laugh.

“Promise me you’ll never leave again…” he mumbled.

You sniffled a little bit, nodding your head.

“I promise…”

Aizawa stood up, lifting you up with him, and he set your feet down in the ground, and he walked in front of you, crouching down just a little.

“Let’s go home.” He said.

You nodded, climbing on his back, letting him carry you back out to the street, and you wrapped your arms over his shoulder, balling your hands into his scarf.

It wasn’t for you, but it was to reassure Aizawa that you were really there, that you were actually coming home with him this time.

You knew his was hurt, and angry.

When you got home he went straight to bed, so you decided to sleep on the couch instead, and what woke you up was someone laying over you.

Instinctively you wrapped your arms around around him, opening your eyes a little bit to see Aizawa tuck his head under your chin.

He didn’t say anything, and neither did you, but you held him with one arm, running your fingers through his hair with your other one.

You knew eventually you’ll have to actually to sit down and talk Aizawa about what happened, but right now wasn’t the time.

Now was the time for him to just bask in the fact that you were back with him, and he did that by laying over you, listening to your heartbeat and taking your necklace from his pocket, putting the ring back in your finger where it belonged.

He didn’t care who knew anymore, you were his and you were home and that’s all that mattered

[e-dubbc11]

Scars

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of childhood trauma, attempted kidnapping, fluff, smooches

Word Count: 1.8K-ish

Summary: Billy comes home while you’re taking a nap, he notices a scar on your ankle and wants to know the story of where it came from

A/N: I found this idea online somewhere. I needed a little help with new ideas and this caught my eye. I hope you like it!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The weather outside your window changed quickly from the early afternoon sun immersing the surrounding buildings in its warm light to it disappearing behind the fast moving gray clouds that swallowed up the bright blue sky.

“Where did the sunshine go?” You said out loud to yourself from your penthouse perch, gazing down at the busy city below.

This time of year could be quite unpredictable as far as the weather goes. Late summer was still very hot, sometimes less humid, and could get a little cool at night into the early morning. But also the sun could be blazing in the sky one minute and the next time you looked outside, your once blue sky was now fully covered in dull gray clouds, ready to rain down on top of you.

And then you heard it, the sound of light rain tapping against the window as you gathered everything you needed to give yourself a relaxing home pedicure. You had the bubbling and warming foot spa, the lavender bath salts, moisturizing lotion, and all of the tools you needed.

Soaking your feet after a long day at work felt wonderful. The hot water bubbled under the balls of your feet, massaging away the stress of your day. As you inhaled sharply and let out a forceful exhale, your shoulders relaxed and your eyes closed, tuning everything out except the rhythmic sound of your own heartbeat in your ears.

Hopefully, you will be finished before Billy comes home.

**********

Faintly, you could hear the rain drumming against the roof. Earlier, that sound had lulled you to sleep and it was also the first thing you heard as you were starting to stir. After painting your nails, you told yourself you were just going to close your eyes for a minute while they were drying.

An hour later, you didn’t even hear Billy come home.

The strong scent of nail polish hung in the air as he walked through the door. Billy called out to you but you didn’t hear him.

“Baby?” He said softly.

No answer.

Meticulously, Billy put his things away…his keys, jacket, gun. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt sleeves so he could roll them up to his elbows. He followed the scent of nail polish to your shared bedroom and paused in the doorway to briefly watch you while you slept.

Outside, the sky was gloomy and overcast but inside you were his bright spot. You were the warm afternoon sun that danced across his face and made him smile after his dismal ride home.

Billy carefully walked over to the bed, looked at your newly painted toes and smiled because you had painted them black, his favorite. They shined like patent leather even in the dimly lit room. Your hands were resting on your stomach and he watched as your chest rose and fell gently with every breath you took.

He committed to memory the way you looked at that moment, the soft comfortable shorts you were wearing, his hoodie that you constantly stole from him to keep your arms warm, and he loved the peaceful look you had on your face while you slept.

When he looked closely at your ankle, he spotted a triangle shaped scar that he had never noticed before. Billy thought he had memorized every inch of your body but he didn’t remember if you had ever mentioned how you got that one.

Reaching for you with his agile fingers, he lightly and slowly traced the outline of your scar, while desperately trying not to wake you. Billy had a very light touch but between the rain and the slight tickle you felt on your ankle, your eyes gradually fluttered open.

A sly smile stretched across your lips as you looked down and saw him tracing the scar on your ankle.

“Whatcha doin’, handsome?” You asked.

Before turning his head to look at you, Billy smiled and replied, “I was admiring your fresh pedicure when I noticed this scar and I don’t know what it’s from, I thought I knew every mark on your body. Why don’t I know about this one?”

Billy’s tone was somber and his lips pulled back over his teeth like he was upset that he didn’t know all about your scar.

“It’s just an old bicycle injury, Billy. It’s not a big deal.” You replied and shrugged at the same time as you tried to conceal how nervous you were.

Billy brought his gaze up to yours, his endless brown eyes looked like two black ink wells and the muscles in his jaw tensed when he asked about the scar.

“Tell me, my love.” He said with an uncomfortable smile, almost like he knew it wasn’t JUST an old bicycle injury.

“Billy, I don’t know—“ You had started to say before he interrupted you.

“Just tell me what happened, sweet girl.” He said calmly. “It’s ok.”

Trying to smile, you sat upright in bed with your back resting on the headboard. It had been a long time since you had thought about that day.

It was around this time of year, late summer, the sun was high in the sky so it had to have been around lunchtime or a little after when you were outside playing with your brother and your cousin. You were probably around 11 and the three of you were getting ready to ride your bikes back home from the park where you were playing.

You were the oldest, it was your job to watch out for the younger ones, so you let them ride up ahead of you. Once they had turned onto your street, you felt immense relief that you were almost home and that’s when you sensed a car slowly pull up behind you.

And then you heard that voice.

“Hey sweetheart, you lost? Anyone ever tell you how pretty you are?” He had said with an evil smile.

“Pretty…” Billy hated that word. As you looked over at him, he had clenched his fist, his face was flushed with rage, while he gripped the blanket on the bed so tight that you thought he may rip it.

You couldn’t recall what the man looked like when he called out to you but you do remember his voice. It sounded like he did nothing but smoke cigarettes all day, it was deep, scratchy and made your skin crawl, like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Nervously shaking your head, you said, “No, I’m fine.”

Your heart was leaping out of your chest and you felt the sweat on your brow about to trickle down your forehead when you decided to make a run for it. When you forcefully pushed down on the bike pedal, your foot slipped and you ended up slicing your ankle on the jagged teeth of the pedal which is when another man jumped from the car and tried to grab you.

But you managed to pedal as fast as you could to catch up to your brother and your cousin who were waiting for you around the corner from where the man tried to grab you.

They didn’t follow you and you never saw them again but the memory always came back when the scent of clove cigarettes was in the air, or heard a deep raspy male voice, or felt someone walking behind you.

It was something from your childhood that you never spoke of again until now, not even to your brother or your cousin who were with you that day. And you’ve been looking over your shoulder ever since.

Knowing what Billy had been through as a young child, your entire body tensed watching him seethe with anger. His cheeks were flushed and you could hear him grinding his teeth while still tightly gripping the blanket in between his fingers.

“Billy? Say something, please.” You said, breaking the silence.

He gently kissed the scar on your ankle and crawled from the foot of the bed up to you, pulled you into his chest and kissed the top of your head. His heartbeat pounded against your ear as you melted into his arms and closed your eyes.

“You don’t look over your shoulder when you’re with me, baby.” He said in a slightly confused tone.

You pulled away to snake your arms around his neck and look into his eyes.

With a warm smile, you replied, “Being with you is the ONLY time I don’t look over my shoulder, Billy. Because I know they’d have to get through you to get to me.”

Billy gently pressed his lips to yours which tasted like peppermint. His shoulders relaxed a little as he smiled back and said, “I’ll never let anything happen to you, sweet girl. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

After finally telling someone your secret, the weight of that secret had finally been removed from your chest and you could breathe a little easier now. Your terrifying childhood experience that had been kept inside all of these years was finally out in the open but you were ok with it.

“I love you.” You said in barely more than a whisper as your eyes welled up with tears. “So much, Billy.”

Billy just smiled, lightly brushed his knuckles against your cheek, and kissed you again before saying, “I love you too, sweet girl. And I’ll pay to have that scar removed, just say the word and it will be gone.”

In that moment, you felt so loved, so seen, and understood. All he wanted to do was make sure you were happy, that you were ok, and he would do anything for you to make that happen, even going as far as paying to have your scar removed.

“Oh Billy…that’s so sweet. But my bike probably saved my life, and yes, looking at that scar reminds me of that day but I’m very thankful for that bicycle and the mark it left on me…literally.” You said, trying to smile. “Thank you, my love.”

Although your experience wasn’t the same as Billy’s, he knew it could have been so much worse for you than it was but that didn’t make him any less angry about it. Your only wish was that he had been able to escape his worst nightmare also.

He knew what kind of real life monsters existed in this world and that he may never have had the chance to meet you if they had taken you. You were the person that understood him the most and loved him for exactly who he was. He didn’t even want to think about what his life would be like without you…but he’d never have to.

“Well, if you ever change your mind…” Said Billy, pulling you tight to his chest again.

You would always be there for each other, for love, comfort, or just to listen.

Relaxing into his embrace, you kissed him on the neck, and said with a smile, “I know, baby…I know.”

It felt good to finally let go.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @fakehappy27 @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @celestialend @nutmeg17 @k-marzolf @vaguekayla @rosaleenablack @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @aoi-targaryen @rachlovesactors @qu1etwolf

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso @colereads @ittybxttykxttytxtty

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[causeilikelix]

Rose Garden - Part One - Lee Know Smut

↳Pairing: Prince!Lee Know x Maid!afab reader

↳Words: 7,800

↳Warnings: SMUT 18+ only!!!!! Minors DNI!!!!!, Lee Know has a dirty mouth, unprotected sex (we all know the drill), inexperienced virgin!reader, Lee Know also might be a virgin but idk, pretty vanilla stuff, power dynamics, creampie, multiple orgasms, multiple (2) positions, semi-public sex, they almost get caught but aren't, angst, a mention of throwing up but no one does

↳Summery:  You are a maid for one of the ladies eligible for a chance to see if they are the prince's soulmate. You join your lady and attend the tea party but you grow bored and wander off. After a while, you stumble across a beautiful rose garden and an even more beautiful man- though he's not very nice.

TAGLIST: @ohmy-moonlightx , @junebug032 , @giyusatorou , @skzfelixlove , @kittkat44 , @nap-of-a-starr, @ventitto , @blankdyean , @lethallyprotected , @poisonivy21 , @nobody3210 , @chuuswifereal , @hisokasimp1

(Strikethrough means unable to tag)

↳Notes: Long story short, I work a lot and I'm tired but I'm trying to get these written!!!

↳Ready on my AO3: Here

Part One

“MOTHER!”  JOY COMPLAINED loudly, “Do I really have to go to this ridiculous ball?” 

“Yes, darling,” Joy’s mother, Mrs. Park, flitted around the room and checked each of the offerings of the maids, “Tonight is vital.  You must catch the eye of the Prince!”

“What if he's not my soulmate, though?”  Joy pouted, which you caught through her vanity mirror as you carefully curled her hair. 

“Darling, when you’re this high up in society you can’t be concerned about all of that soulmate dribble!  You are a lady!  You are out in society and your position matters!”  Mrs Park insisted.  She made her way over to the vanity and gestured for you to move aside. 

Wordlessly and obediently, you stepped aside to let Joy’s mother take over your task of doing Joy’s hair.  You backed away to stand with the other maids who were holding various jewelry options for this afternoon’s tea party.  

Joy looked absolutely stunning, which was truly no surprise.  As one of the higher ladies of the court, she had to be.  Whenever she went to these tea parties or balls, it was part of your job to make sure she looked her best.  You did her hair, helped her into whichever gown was chosen for the event, and applied the perfect amount of rouge to her cheeks.  As her dedicated ladies maid, you also had to cater to her every whim.  

Technically, you weren’t allowed to be friends with the lady you served but you and Joy had gotten rid of that ages ago.  As her mother rambled on about the importance of holding the family’s position in society, Joy locked eyes with you through the vanity mirror and rolled her eyes.  You had to stifle your giggle into your hand and pretend it was a sneeze in order for the other maids to ignore you. 

“Mother, the prince does absolutely nothing for me.  We would be an awful match!”  Joy whined. 

“Joy, I won’t keep telling you why you have to attend this event.  This is your last chance to catch the Queen’s eye.  If you don’t then they will choose a bride for him this evening at the ball.”

“But every eligible girl in society will also be peacocking around!  There’s no way I could ever stand out.”

“Joy!”  Mrs Park scolded with a light smack to her shoulder.  She moved away and gestured for you to continue your task.  “Ms. Y/N, please do your best work.  You are serving the potential future princess of our fine country!”

“Mother!”  Joy screeched, but Mrs Park made her way out of the room before Joy could whine much more.  “Y/N, you’d better make me look like a monster!”  

“Ma’am, I’ve heard that the Prince is a fine young man!”  You chimed in as you went back to putting small crystals into Joy’s dramatic updo.

“Oh, come on, please don’t call me that when mother isn’t around.  It makes me feel like an old maid.”  Joy pouted. 

“Of course.  Which jewelry set do you want to go with your dress?”  You waved over the other maids, who hurried over to present their offerings.  Joy perused them for a moment before pointing at a silver and blue set to complement the rich navy she had on.

“I don’t know why mother insists on jewel tones.”  Joy sighed, “She knows I prefer pastels.  All the other girls will be wearing pastels to tea!”

“Or maybe they won’t!  This is the last chance to impress the Queen before she makes the decision for him.”

“I hope she’s decided already.  I think I’d hate being married to a prince.  What if he’s dull?”  Joy sighed.

“Honestly, they probably chose his intended ages ago and they’re doing all this for the sake of some social events and entertainment,” You suggested innocently.  

Joy gasped in horror and turned to look at you.

“How dare you insult the royal family!”  She exclaimed.  Her eyebrows furrowed and your heart dropped into your stomach.  You hadn’t meant to-

Joy cracked a smile.  She giggled openly, which helped your muscles relax.  She was just joking.

“Don’t frighten me so!”

“I will never reprimand you for voicing your opinions, even about the royal family.  I believe we are well past that, don’t you?”  Joy turned back to the mirror and you got back to work on her hair. 

You were able to breathe a little better. 

Once Joy had her hair done and her jewels put on, she got up and started towards the door.  You bowed as she left and mentally ran through the list of duties you had to attend to once she left.  Tidy the closet, dust the shelves, make her bed, wash her pillow cases and-

“Oh,” Joy sighed, her hand on the doorknob, “I do wish you could come with me.  You make much better company than any of the other ladies.”

“I wish I could go too, Miss.”  The formality slipped out, but she allowed it. 

“Maybe you could go.”  Joy mused, “I could demand you accompany me in case I have a fainting spell or something.  I suddenly feel one coming on.”

She shot you a mischievous grin.  

“You just want to paint all afternoon."

For almost ten years she’d been faking fainting spells in order to either get out of an event or get you to go with her.  You were surprised that she hadn’t faked one today.  Despite the dramatic navy gown and the sparkly jewelry, Joy preferred to spend her days with you in the greenhouse painting away.  Each year for your birthday she gifted you a blank sketchbook and some pencils and often invited you to paint with her.  You weren’t nearly as good as her, but it allowed for you to have something to do together.  An even playing field.  No titles. 

“You caught me.  What can I say?  I prefer painting with my best and only friend in the ton over mingling and pretending to hope for the Queen’s approval.”  Joy mused for a few long moments.  Then, terrifyingly, her eyes lit up.  She opened the door and called out into the house.  “Mother! Y/N is joining us to the ball today!  I shall require her assistance changing into my other gown for the ball.”

“What?”  You gawked.

Joy closed the door and turned to you triumphantly.

“Crystal,”  Joy turned to one of the other maids, “Please prepare my pink and blue gown with the flowers and sapphires on the bodice for the palace with the fullest underskirt you can find.  Oh, and the pink set of jewelry that Papa gave me for Christmas!  Y/N, go prepare your best dress!  You’re going to the royal ball!”

~!~!~!~!~!~

Joy’s scheming got you right where she wanted you.  If you had the chance, you definitely would have stayed home but you were in no position to refuse her.  Joy’s mother wasn’t thrilled that you were there but at this point she knew that there were some battles you just don’t win.  

It wasn’t as if there was much for you to do at this party anyway.  Joy made you change into your event uniform, which was really just a cleaner black-and-white version of what you normally wore.  Today you wore a long black dress with a white lace apron layered over the skirt, with a white collar and cuffs.  

All well and good if the tea party wasn’t outdoors.

By all means, the temperature outside was quite pleasant unless you had to stand off to the side with the other ladies maids in direct sunlight.  All of you had delicate sheens of sweat along the backs of your necks as you waited to be summoned by your respective ladies.  Some of the maids you’d seen before and had decent friendships with.  The great part about being a maid is that almost all of them were into gossip, as if they were reading a dramatic-real life romance novel. 

“Ryujin, you’ll never believe it!”  Yuna exclaimed, “Mr Lee proposed to Lady Shim last week!  They had a few moments together in the garden and he got down on one knee and he had a ring prepared and everything!”

“How romantic!”  Ryujin squealed, “Did she accept?”

“Honestly, I’m in disbelief!  She didn’t refuse him but she said she needed time to think.  It’s possible that she’s hoping to be chosen by the Queen but she can’t be selected if she’s betrothed.”

“Have any of you actually seen Prince Minho?”  Ryujin sighed, “I mean, Mr Lee is a catch.  Why would she turn him down?”

“I saw the prince once!”  Lia, another maid into all the gossip, chimed in eagerly, “He is unbelievably handsome.”

“Oh, shove it.  You only saw the back of his head once.” Yuna rolled her eyes, “I saw him once a few weeks ago.  He is, without a doubt, one of the most handsome men I’ve ever set my eyes on!”

“What about you, Y/N, have you seen the prince?”  Ryujin turned the attention onto you.

“No, I’ve only heard about him from Lady Joy.  She has no interest in him.”

“Well, I think he actually plans on attending this event alongside the Queen, so hopefully we should get a glimpse of him soon!”

“Why aren’t they searching for his soulmate?  I heard that a soulmate match makes for more successful breeding.”  You asked.

“That was the purpose of these parties all month!  They’ve been bringing in all the ladies and the princesses of neighboring countries to each try their hand at being his soulmate but no one suitable has been found,” Ryujin explained, “If he doesn’t find his soulmate tonight then the Queen will choose one of the offers submitted by various other royal or noble families.”

“This is all so dull,” you sighed, “Who cares about soulmates and politics.  All we can do is watch!  At this rate I’ll die an old maid.”

“If you find your soulmate I’m sure your lady will let you marry!”  

“Only if he’s someone of my rank.”  You rolled your eyes, “It looks like Lady Joy is enjoying herself so I think I might go for a walk, care to join me?”

“Goodness, no.  I would get in trouble if I ever left my lady’s sight!”

“Well, tell her I had to find the servant’s quarters if she asks about me.” 

You didn’t know why Joy wanted you along so badly if she was only going to get caught up in the other ladies she was friends with.  You figured a turn around the gardens wouldn’t be such a bad thing, especially since no one was paying any attention to you.  Also, this might be the only chance you ever got to see the royal garden.  

Quietly, you slipped away from the other maids and turned to venture deeper in the gardens.  The party was relatively localized so there were acres of untouched flora to explore.  Maybe, if you were lucky, there would be a pond or a fountain to sit by and watch.  Something about water always fascinated you. 

The sun warmed your skin as you walked through the hedges and trees.  The cobblestone paths crunched delicately beneath your shoes.  Flowers and shrubs lined the path, allowing for a delicate floral scent to fill the air.  You sighed happily when a light breeze helped the aroma into your nose.  

By all means, this was the perfect day for a tea party.  The only thing missing was the tea.  The more you thought about it the more a cup of tea sounded wonderful, but you would have to wait for a cup until you got back to the house and put Joy to bed.

As you walked you occasionally passed by other maids or servants of the palace but they paid you no mind.  Your finer uniform gave the impression that you belonged within the palace walls, but you knew you did not.  Your family was intimately entwined with the Park family.  From birth you were predestined to be Joy’s lady's maid.  You feared that you would never do anything else. 

When you were a little girl you used to dream of entering the palace.  As a child, it was as a woman of nobility who got to wear all of the pretty dresses that Lady Joy got to wear and dance at all the balls.  However, as you got older you figured that the more realistic track would be for you to enter the kitchen and work as a servant.  There was little to no chance of changing rank and now that you were a proper soulmate-seeking adult, you had to accept your reality.  Nothing would ever change for you.

Then the gardens began to change. 

The standard hedges turned into lofty lattice structures.  The wood was painted white and the structures created square arches over the path.  Lattice fences lined the walkway as well.  Vines snaked up the structures and overhead, creating lovely shadows that helped to soothe the sweat pearling at the back of your neck.  The white gravel turned to cobblestones under your feet.

Soon, however, flowers began to appear on the vines.  As you ventured deeper into the garden, roses of every color began to decorate the lattice and the arches.  There were several stripes of color.  Several feet of white roses, then orange, then red, then purple.  The soft aroma of the roses wafted into your nose and you sighed happily.  The occasional iron bench lined the path and you had half a mind to sit down and take a rest for a while. 

“Goddamn it!”  A voice carried from a crevice in the hedges and you jumped.  The exclamation was soon followed by a loud thump and a groan of pain. 

On instinct, you gasped and went to find the source of the noise.  The second groan of pain helped you navigate the maze of lattice fences with roses on them.  The path curved into a generous arch before an opening into the center of the garden appeared.  You dipped through a circular hedge gate until you emerged into probably the most beautiful place you’d ever seen in your life. 

In the center of a generous opening was a stone gazebo with lattice fences lining it.  Those, of course, had large rose bushes wound throughout making the gazebo feel like a proper enclosed building.  A delicate trickling stone fountain of a woman pouring water into a basin sat in front.  A plethora of garden trimming tools like shears and a basket of weeds sat at the stone woman’s feet.  Along the back wall were more fences lined with roses so you supposed you shouldn’t have been surprised to see the man on the ground near them. 

The man wore a pair of brown trousers and a white flowy top that hung off his shoulders and showed off his milky collarbones.  He wore a pair of black boots that went up just below his knees.  You couldn’t see his full face but you knew only from his profile that he would be beautiful.  He groaned and wiped his hands on his pants before standing back up.  He sighed and fixed his cuffs before turning and seeing you at the entrance to the small garden.  Instantly, his face morphed into one of horror and he backed away from you slowly.

“Leave immediately!”  The man commanded in a sweet and melodic voice that was a strong contrast to his barked orders, “And tell no one what you saw!”

“I… I’m sorry!”  You dipped down into a low curtsey, even though you couldn’t tell who he was.  Judging from the dirt on his pants and the trimming shears on the ground by your feet, you had something of an idea. 

“Didn’t I tell you to go?”  He asked again after you hesitated to move. 

“I do apologize but… I appear to have lost my way and-”

“You lost your way?  Isn’t it required of the help to know their way around this oppressive castle?”  The man rolled his handsome cat-like eyes and he tossed a hand through his rich brown locks. 

“I… Well, I am just visiting.”  Your throat closed as you spoke.  He glared at you, making you feel small under his intense gaze. 

“Ah, you’re just visiting then?  For the party?  Well, that makes you forgiven for your presence here.  You shouldn’t be away from your post.”  The man scoffed, making you doubt that he was serious about his words. 

“Sir, I’m truly sorry.  I got lost.  If you could tell me the way out then I will-”

“I will tell you.”  The man sighed in defeat, “but only if you tell no one where you were or what you saw.”

“Sir, no one would believe me anyway.  If you wish to escape then it’s none of my business.”  

“You are just a ladies maid, I suppose.  Fine, if you go back through the arch and turn left then-”  the man paused.  

He finally looked up at you and straight into your eyes.  You were shocked by how strangely warm his eyes were, despite the neverending glare.  The sunlight was hitting them just right and making his eyes a swirling exhibit of chestnut and gold.  The crease between his eyebrows softened after a moment before his entire face relaxed and he sighed.  

“Sir?”

“Look, I’m…”  he winced before he forced out the next words, “I’m sorry.  I am under a lot of stress right now and I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

“What kind of stress?”  You blurted out your question before you could stop yourself.  You knew you had to get back to your duties but something about this man kept your feet glued to the ground. 

“Have you ever had a huge obligation?  Like, something that has been planned practically since your birth that you can’t get out of?”  He paused to gauge your reaction.  You shook your head.  “I suppose not.  Anyway, it’s like there’s all this theater to pretend like my life is up to me but I know that it’s not.  I will be the subject of command my entire life and I can’t take it anymore.  I need to get out of here before it’s too late.”

“And you’re trying to climb the rose bushes?”

“Not successfully, I might add.  Those bristles are sharp.  But it’s the only place in the garden that has any sort of structure that can get me out.”

“Do you need some assistance, sir?”  You took a bold step deeper into the garden and towards the beautiful man. 

“Assistance?”  he chuckled, “You mean you would help me try to get over this fence?”

“Well, if you truly don’t want the life that’s been planned for you, why go through with it?  I believe that everyone should have a chance to live the life they want.  Granted, that’s not completely realistic in this society…”  

“It’s not?”  The man blinked at you in surprise, as if he was genuinely learning of hierarchy for the first time.

“Well, no.  Everybody has their master.  There’s no room for dreaming.  So, I think that if you have the opportunity to escape and follow your dream then you should.  What is your dream, if not this?”  You gestured vaguely to the flowers.  

“I want to live a simple life.  I want to be in control of myself and who I love.  I don’t want anyone to decide for me who I’m supposed to be with.  I don’t want anyone looking over my shoulder all the time.”

“Then go!  I’m certainly not stopping you.  It looks like there’s a place to grip the fence up there, if you want me to give you a lift?”  You moved a little closer, tearing your eyes off of the beautiful stranger and up at the lattice fence.  

“You?  Want to give me a lift?  Are you sure you wouldn’t be crushed under my weight?”

“I am a ladies maid, sir, I would sooner be crushed under the laundry I must do after the ball this evening.”  

The man smiled at you.  The first warm gesture since you’d met.  For a moment, the smile almost seemed… endearing.  

You couldn’t deny that being under his gaze made you weak in the knees.  Whoever this escapist gardener was, he was handsome.  You enjoyed the sound of his voice as it wafted through the air.  It sounded sweeter than the scent of the bold blooms surrounding you.  Sunbeams that were cast through the flowers landed on his golden skin, making him practically glow.  Your time together was fleeting… and you wanted more of him.

“Come,”  he gestured with his hand for you to move closer.  You appreciated the contrast from only a few moments ago. 

You followed his command and floated closer to him.  Your feet practically moved on their own, as if you were being drawn to him like a magnet. 

“You’re so obedient when you want to be.”  He complimented.  He turned towards the wall and put his hands on his hips.  He scanned it until he found the patch of white wood that wasn’t covered in the thorny flowers or their leaves.  “I think that will work, like you said.  Why don’t you come stand right here and-”

He turned and suddenly put his hands on your shoulders.  You gasped at the contact but let him move you into position by the wall.  As he dropped his hands from your shoulders, the tips of his fingers grazed against the back of your hand.  The man stopped speaking at the skin-on-skin contact, but he also didn’t stop touching you.  His fingers lingered there for a few seconds before he pulled away entirely. 

“I’m sorry, do forgive me.  I know that was careless but-”  He began but he was cut short by a gasp.  

You both gasped at the same time when the tell-tale arousal ripped up your spine.  It was practically instantaneous how you went from completely normal to, in a matter of seconds, dripping and empty.  You watched as his trousers grew tighter as an erection swelled under the fabric.  Both of you stared at each other for a few horrible seconds.  Of all places to meet your soulmate, why here?  Why now?

Your gaze flickered from his eyes to his mouth and you almost audibly groaned.  His pretty pink lips were parted slightly and they looked shiny with spit.  All you wanted to do was taste him.  From the way his eyes flicked down to your lips, you could only assume he wanted the same.

“You?”  He breathed out. 

“I could go,” you offered, though you could barely recognize the sound of your own voice.  He stared at you for a few long seconds.

“Don’t you dare.”

Then his mouth was on yours.  No ceremony, no build-up, just pure urgency.  His hands circled your waist as he waited for you to respond to his kiss.  Your eyes were open for a second as you contemplated the new situation, but before you knew it your eyes closed and you kissed him back.  He wasted no time in twisting his head and deepening the kiss.  Your inexperience didn’t seem to bother him as he worked his mouth with yours.  

He kissed you as if his life was on the line, as if this was the last time you would ever see each other.  For a moment, you wondered if that was true.  

The thought left your mind the moment his tongue swiped at your lower lip, requesting entrance.  You wasted no time in parting your lips and pushing your tongue against his.  You wondered if he really did taste like honey or if that was the soulmate hormone talking.  Your hands curled into his hair and he moaned at the contact.  Gratefully, you swallowed every noise that came from him.  

“I need to have you now,” he mumbled against your lips, “Please, let me have you.”

“I’m yours for the taking.”  

He wasted no time at all.  

In an instant, he was pushing you into a corner of the rose garden that was just out of sight of the entrance.  There wasn’t a bench or anything to sit on and he didn’t have anything to cushion the ground, but it didn’t really matter to either of you.  The emptiness between your legs was probably going to kill you if you didn’t have him immediately, so you pulled him to the ground and straddled his lithe hips. 

He gasped in surprise when his back hit the ground, but he grinned at your enthusiasm.  The kiss broken, you worked together to get your skirts out of the way and he tugged at your undergarments.  He glared at them like they were offensive to him personally.  He shot you a quick smirk before the sound of tearing fabric met your ears.

“Hey!  I kind of need those.”  You protested.

“I want to see what’s mine.”  

He lifted his head off the ground to gaze at your dripping sex.  You wonder if he could tell how wet you were just by a little kissing.  He moved one of his hands towards your center, shooting you a quick glance as if to ask permission.  The moment you nodded, the tips of his fingers grazed your outer sex and you gasped at the touch.  The mere touch alone tasted sweet.  

His fingers explored further, slipping beneath your lips to prod at your drenched hole.  He sucked in a sharp breath when he pushed his index finger into the first knuckle. 

“Damn, angel, you’re so wet.  This is all for me, hm?”   He pulled his fingers away and you groaned at the lack of contact.  Your eyes widened when he slipped his pointer finger into his mouth and lapped at your essence.  His eyes rolled into the back of his head at your taste before he looked up at you with eyes clouded with lust.  “Angel, I wish we had time for you to sit on my face so I can drink you up but right now I think I’ll die if I’m not inside you soon.” 

Honestly, you shared the sentiment.  You reached for the laces on his britches and tugged at them.  He leaned back and watched you wrestle with his pants for a few minutes.  However, it didn’t take him long to get needy himself and soon his fingers were joining yours. 

Together, you freed the laces and pushed his pants down just enough for his cock to pop out and slap onto his lower belly.  You were thankful that his shirt had ridden up a little in your efforts.  His dick, while being the only real one you’d ever seen, looked perfect.  It was thick and long and the head was a gorgeous shape of pink that matched his kiss swollen lips.  Since turning twenty one and being told about some of what to do, you had an idea of what was about to happen.  

“Have you ever seen one before?”  He grasped his cock with one hand and stroked it a few times.  His other hand gripped your waist and maneuvered you into place above him. 

“No, I’ve only heard about them, sir.”  You gasped when something hot and wet glided through your lower lips.  

“They really don’t teach you girls anything, do they?”  He tsked and pressed the head against your dripping hole.  With how wet you were, it could have slipped right in with no resistance.  “I’m going to put it inside you now.  There might very well be some discomfort, but you’re so wet I think you’ll drown my cock, so I think you’ll be fine.”

“Please, put it in.”  You practically begged, lowering your hips and accepting him into you.

You let out an embarrassingly loud moan when the head breached your entrance and began pushing inside you.  Your swollen walls stretched to accommodate him readily.  Like he said, there was a little discomfort from the initial stretch but there was no pain.  He moved the hand that was on his dick to your waist and used both hands to help you descend onto him.  You squeezed your eyes shut and let it happen.

When your hips were flush with one another, your thighs were shaking with effort.  You dropped your hands to his chest and held on for stability.  You kept your weight off him as much as you could, aside from how your pussy was finally wrapped around his delicious cock.  

“Are you alright?”  His soft voice made your eyes snap open to look at him.  His eyebrows were furrowed in concern and his grip on you tightened.  “You need not hold yourself up.”

“I am quite heavy, sir.  I don't want to crush you.”

“Nonsense.”   He growled, pushing down on your hips hard enough for your legs to give out.  Your full weight descended onto his hips, shoving his cock deeper into you and causing you both to let out groans of satisfaction.  The pressure of him being fully sheathed inside you made you want to cry.  It was as if he’d split you open.

Instantly, he lifted a hand to press it over your mouth.  Effortlessly, he pushed his hips up, held you in the circle of his arms and rolled you so you were on your back.  He shifted his hips a little bit just to be sure he wouldn’t slip out of you while he changed your position.  Once he was over you, dick still lodged within your warm and wet walls, he leaned down to whisper against your ear. 

“We don’t want to get caught, do we?  Stay quiet while I ruin you, yeah?”  

He kept his hand across your mouth as he ground his hips into you.  You groaned against his skin as the friction sent sparks of pleasure up your spine.  All of the discomfort of being filled melted away until all you could feel was absolute pleasure.  His cock massaged your insides perfectly with every single thrust.  He was so deep you could practically feel him in the back of your throat.  

You gazed up at him through your eyelashes, watching his face as he fucked you.  Every time he pushed in, his face contorted into a beautiful picture of pleasure.  Droplets of sweat trickled down his face, giving his skin a glowing sheen.  He gazed right back down at you, locking your eyes together with every grind of his hips.  From this angle, his shirt dipped down and you could see the expanse of his collarbones and chest.  You wished you had a better angle without all these pesky clothes in the way so you could see his cock as it entered you.

You mumbled against his sweaty hand, tasting the addicting salt of him.  

“Can you stay quiet if I take my hand away, my angel?”  He moaned lowly as a particularly deep thrust made you clench around him.  You nodded rapidly and he slowly pulled his hand away.  “What is it?”

“Faster,”  you begged.  You slightly pulled your knees up and your skirts away to give him more room.  “Please, sir, want to feel you.”

“Do you think you can handle it, precious angel?”  He threw two quick, hard thrusts into your heat and you bit back a pitiful moan.  You nodded quickly at his question.

“Please, I want more.”  You parted your knees a little more and it was his turn to moan.  He buried his head in your neck so that he could not be heard outside of your bubble. 

“Since you asked so nicely,”  He groaned and he began to pick up the pace.  Each thrust made an audible noise as your skin collided.  The burn between your legs grew and you reveled in the feeling.  

“S-so good,”  you reached for him to tangle your fingers in his hair, desperate for something to hold onto, “Don’t stop, sir.”

“Never, Angel.  Never.  You feel so fucking good.  So wet and tight for me.   Just wanna be inside you all the time, never wanna pull out.  You’re mine, yeah?  All mine, just mine.”  

His hands were everywhere.  He grabbed at your neck, your chest, reached below your skirts to grab your thighs before circling up towards a distinct target.  You weren’t sure what he was doing until his fingertips were collecting your slick and circling up your slit.  You didn’t think it could get much better until he circled a spot that had you biting his shoulder to keep from moaning loudly.  He grinned and kept his efforts focused on that spot.  

The pleasure began to mount.  Something pulled taut in your stomach and your legs began to shake.  A string in your belly tensed.  Your pussy ached from his constant rough thrusting but it sent sparks of pleasure all the way down to your toes.  

“Sir, please… please it feels-”  You weren’t sure what you were begging for but your soulmate seemed to double his efforts.  He thrust harder and pressed a little more on the swollen bundle of nerves at your center.  

“It’s okay, angel.  Just lay back and feel.  Don’t think of anything else.  Cum for me,”  He peppered kisses on your sweaty neck and collarbones.  

You focused on the pleasure building within you.  The peak approached you quicker than you would have liked, but before you knew it something wondrous washed over you.  Your thighs clenched around him and a choked moan caught in your throat.  You grabbed onto his shoulders and dug your nails into his skin, desperate for something to hold onto as a powerful orgasm washed over you.  

Your soulmate kept pushing his thick cock into you, but he slowed down to help you ride out your orgasm without overwhelming you.  Something sticky slipped out of you and he was sure that you’d left a gorgeous white ring of cum at the base of his cock.  

His angel had given him a halo.

He moved his hand away from your clit and anchored his elbows by your head.  He landed several soft kisses on your cheeks and lips but you were too far gone to respond.  Your ears were ringing and all you could think about was the avalanche of pleasure between your legs.  Waves of your orgasm made your thighs quiver a little.  You stared at the leaves above you and the golden streaks of light that stole in from the gaps.  The world slowly formed around you.  When you met his eyes, he smiled warmly.

“There you are.”  He whispered.

“That was… amazing.”  You sighed, but it turned into a gasp as your soulmate rocked his hips into yours a few times. 

“Angel, I still need to cum, too.  We can stop if you want but I need to-”

“Yes!  Please, keep going.”  You begged suddenly.  Your walls ached from the exertion but you also craved the feeling of him inside you even more. 

“Yeah?”  He groaned lowly as he pushed into you again.  He moaned into your neck as his pace began to increase more and more.  “Good.  Fuck, angel, I can’t wait to cum inside you.  Please can I cum inside you?”

“Yes, please!”  You begged.  

You knew what could happen if he came in you and you didn’t really want that right now, but the desire and the need to feel his release inside of you overpowered every other thing in the world.  You probably wouldn’t have cared if the prince walked in on you at this point.  

Your soulmate’s thrusts began to pick up speed.  The overstimulation in your pussy stung but you gritted your teeth through it.  His moans got higher in pitch and he panted wetly against your neck.

“I’m getting close, angel.”  He grunted above you.

His thick cock speared into you over and over again.  His heavy balls slapped against your ass and you just knew that he would have a lot of cum to give you. 

Your assumption was proven right only moments later.  He groaned loudly, shoved himself as deep into you as he could go, and his milky release coated your insides.  The pressure and the warmth against your cervix made your skin tingle at the base of your spine and you figured you could probably cum again.  You reached down between your legs and gasped to find your center slick and messy.  You rubbed your fingertips around until you hit your clit.  

It only took a few short rubs before your cunt clamped onto him.  He moaned at the feeling.

He thrusted shallowly into you a few times to ride out his high and every push resulted in another generous spurt of cum inside you.  It was as if your orgasm triggered his to last longer.

Finally, he slumped against you.  He did his best to keep his full weight off you but at this angle it couldn’t be helped.  You didn’t mind.  Despite the warmth of the day and the fact that your skin was sweat slicked, you needed him close.  

Together, you laid on the ground in each other’s arms for a few seconds.  The afterglow began to set in.  You craved his body close.  It must have only been seconds because a loud voice boomed through the garden, startling you both back into the real world. 

“Where is he!  He is going to be late to his own party!  I don’t care what he wants!  He’ll be an embarrassment to the royal family if he doesn’t make an appearance!  Search the grounds, go!  Now!”  A stern voice barked.

“Oh, shit.”  Your soulmate muttered. 

In an instant, he slid out of you, stood up and worked on redoing the laces on his pants.  His nimble fingers got the job done in almost no time.  It left you to quickly gather yourself.  Your undergarments were ripped but you could tie the scraps a little to keep yourself somewhat decent.  You fixed your skirts and started to get up, but your soulmate spoke again.

“Let me.”  His soft voice sounded sweet, like the roses.

He offered you his hand and he helped you rise to your feet and brush off the leaves and petals from your skirt.  When you met his eyes, you were shocked by the grief swimming in them.

“Are you okay?”  You reached out to cup his cheek in your hand but he flinched away from your touch.

“I’m sorry, I must go.”  He turned on his heel and started out of the garden. 

“Wait… what?”  You gasped out and followed him a few steps. 

“I must go.  I’m sorry, I wish I could stay but… I’ve waited too long and duty calls.” 

“But… wait, shouldn’t we talk about this?”  You followed him to the archway that led into the garden.  He stopped abruptly, his back to you for a few seconds.  His breath heaved.  When he turned to face you, his eyebrows were hardset.

“No.  I’m sorry, this shouldn’t have happened.  You can’t be my soulmate.  They would never allow it.  Let’s try to forget this ever happened, okay?  It’s for the best.”  His hard voice sent a shock down your spine.

You stared at him in surprise.  He didn’t give you the time to retort before he was stalking away and disappearing into the green.  You hurried after him but quickly found that you had no idea where you were going.  The turns and the bushes all looked identical.  

Tears welled in your eyes.  The more you searched for him, the more lost you became.  You ran blindly through the garden, your dress swirling at your ankles.  The sun beat down on you and a bead of sweat dripped down your temple.  Was it sweat on your face, or tears?  Was it sweat dripping down your legs, or cum? 

You ran until you bumped into a palace maid.  Both of you cried out in surprise and fell back.  You were unable to stop yourself from crying.  The other maid scolded you for making her drop her washing, but she stopped after a moment when she noticed your hysterical state. 

“Are you alright?”  She asked tentatively. 

“I don’t know… I… my soulmate… the party!  I’m lost!  What if… my mistress… she needs me.”  You wailed, dropping your head into your hands. 

“Are you a ladies maid for one of the ladies at the party?” 

“Yes.  I only stepped away for a moment but I got lost!”

“It’s okay!  It’ll be okay, I promise.”  The maid soothingly rubbed your arm.  “Let’s get you back to the party, okay?  You’re not far.”

The maid led you through the garden.  You followed blindly, not really paying any attention to where you were going.  The garden didn’t hold as much beauty as it did a few minutes ago.  You kept your eyes peeled for the gardener.  Your soulmate.  

Like she said, it wasn’t long before soft music filled the air.  A harp, by the light, airy sound of it.  Then the murmur the guests followed.  Before anyone could come into sight, the maid turned around and stopped you. 

“You look a mess, my dear.  Let’s clean you up first.  You don’t want your lady to see you in this state, do we?”  The palace maid gently wiped away your tears and smoothed your hair.  She pulled a few leaves out of the tangled strands. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?”  You sniffled.  The maid smiled sadly. 

“My soulmate is above my standing, too, love.” 

“What?  No, it’s the gardener… he just ran off and-”

“There.”  The maid smoothed your hair one last time.  “Go on!  You don’t want to keep your lady waiting.”  

Before you could think to ask what she meant, the maid hurried back into the garden, leaving you alone with your thoughts.  

Only moments ago, you were with the person you were meant to be with but now you were alone.  Your body ached and your eyes burned from crying.  You needed a drink.  

Instead, you held your head high and ventured back into the garden where the party was in full swing.  So to speak.  A few women danced in a clearing next to the pavilion where the musicians played.  Mostly, people milled about, sipped on drinks, and snacked on hors d'Oeuvres.  The girls wore various lightly colored pastel dresses that glittered and shimmered in the sunlight.  If you were sweating in your dress, you were certain that the girls in attendance would be feeling faint.  Luckily, there were several open-air tents pitched around the garden where the girls who weren’t partaking in the festivities could rest. 

It came to no surprise to you that Joy had set up underneath one of the tents.  You made your way over to her and she waved at you the second she saw you weaving through the crowd.  You hurried to her side and you curtsied deeply in apology.

“Miss, I apologize for slipping away without saying anything first, I-”

“You what?”  Joy blinked at you in surprise.  “You know what, it’s okay.  It’s no matter.  I called you over because the prince is about to make his entrance!  I wanted you to get a good look at him.  There’s a tiny chance he’ll be my soulmate, afterall.”

“It might be nice to live at the palace.”  You cleared your throat, hoping that she wouldn’t catch on to the fact that tears still brimmed in your eyes. 

“It is quite pretty, isn’t it?  I’m not sure if I could stomach all of the royal duties.  Waving at crowds, kissing babies, the politics within the court.  How exhausting!  Maybe if he’s handsome then this wouldn’t be so bad.”  Joy sighed, “Y/N, how I wish you were a lady.  I would rather sit with you, gossip, and share this food with you.  Maybe I should have dressed you up in one of my gowns and pretended you were my cousin from out of town.”

“I’m afraid I’d be useless at one of these parties.” 

“Nonsense!  Didn’t I teach you to dance when we were teenagers?  You know all the steps.”  Something clicked in Joy’s head and she jumped.  “A-ha!  Y/N!  I had Crystal pack an extra gown and corset in case I spilled tea on this one.  After the party, let’s dress you in that!  You can attend the ball with me!  Not as a maid, but as a friend.”

“Miss!  I don’t think that would be proper.  I am only a maid and-”

“No one will recognize you!  Once you put on a gown, no one will be the wiser.  What do you say?” 

“I’m not sure if that’s wise-”

“ALL RISE.”  A voice boomed over the party. 

The music and the murmur of the crowd lulled and faded out.  A butler stood up a few stairs on a path towards the palace.  He stood tall and held a cone in his hand in order to amplify his voice.  Those who were seated scrambled to their feet, Joy included. 

“I am here to announce the entrance of the Royal Prince Lee Minho!  All bow!”  The butler screamed into the cone.  A few birds squawked and flew out of their nest that was in a tree along the back wall of the garden.

The musicians played a fanfare.  You joined in bowing with all of the guests and maids at the party.  The music swelled and you peeked up to see if you could catch a glimpse of the prince. 

His footsteps echoed on the stone path.  His pants were blindingly white but it was offset by a blood red officer's coat, adorned with a sash and multiple medals of honor.  A golden circlet crown sat atop his head.  His stoic face- wait.

That face. 

That gait. 

His cat-like eyes surveyed the crowd, taking in his subjects.  Prince Minho’s shoulders were set and broad.  There was no happiness in his face and, in fact, his eyes looked a little puffy as if he’d just woken up or if… he’d been crying.  

His face was one you knew well.  You’d know him anywhere.  It would be impossible to forget the man whose cum was currently dripping down your legs. 

Your stomach lurched and you could have sworn that you were going to throw up.  

“Lady Joy?”  You whispered. 

“Hm?”

“I’ll take you up on it.  I want to go to the ball.”  

You looked back up at the Prince to find him staring right back at you.  He showed no surprise on his face, only melancholy.  

Horror settled inside you when the realization washed over your senses.  Everything and nothing made sense all at once. 

Prince Minho was your soulmate.

Part Two ->

[opiopal]

a fic requested by anon and also my very first request!! and also a very silly request that makes me giggle, does this count as a crack fic? probably! (gn Mc as always ofc!) the idea was a demon rapper/singer constantly throwing shade at mc, why? cause they exist lol. (this does not properly fit into the timeline of the second session of the first OM game,)

.

after coming back to the devildom, Mc of course had plenty of catching up to do! they were gone for oh so long so of course all their attention was on their friends(and also their classes), so they were pretty occupied and whenever they were alone they were most likely just napping or doing homework. so they weren't aware of any new music or trends on the internet.

but, one afternoon they had gone out for some much needed alone time, just browsing shops and thinking about what to get for lunch or if it was even worth eating at the moment at all. eventually they decided to take a small break on a bench and pull out their phone to start playing one of the many mobile games levi suggested to them, though their focus was suddenly interrupted by a hand on their shoulder. which causes them to yell and nearly drop their phone as they whip their head around and see.. solomons stupidly happy face.

"STOP. sneaking up on me. you're going to give me a heart attack."

"ah, but i didn't!"

despite feeling a little annoyed by his giggles, mc of course invited him to sit with them and catch up, since they hadn't talked much since he had suddenly teleported them back to the devildom. after what feels like a very short thirty minute chat, he suddenly turns to completely face Mc.

"you know.. I'm surprised that you're so unbothered by the recent drama,"

"... huh?? what drama?"

his eyebrows raise in amusement,

"you really dont know? With the brothers I figured that you would have heard! here, pull out your D.D.D and go to deviltube"

"ok??"

doing what he intructed, Mc ends up finding themself on a profile for a singer they hadn't heard of before, though recognized a song title or two from internet trends and character edits. solomon instructs them to listen to a song and so they do.

"I mean- it sounds good- 'seven dicked sheep bitch' is kind of a weird lyriaaAAAAAA- WAIT."

they turn to look at him

"IS- IS THIS- ABOUT ME?? WHAT??"

they take at least a good hour listening to song after song, this guy even joked about mc being related to lilith! when did that even become public information?! by the end of it they felt so angry that they were certain satan would have been able to sense it. I mean- what did they ever do to this person??

"so what do you want to do about this? I've been keeping myself from sending a few curses their way before I got your opinion on it"

"NO. no. I mean- I appreciate it but- if I just let someone else deal with it then that would just prove points.."

it was silent for a good while before an idea dawned on them.

"I could write something back,"

"how so?"

"you know, make something and put it out, its not unheard of- ugh nevermind its a stupid idea- I dont even know anything about this guy-"

the sound of a loud 'aheam' cuts mc off and spooks them, they turn their head quickly to see- mephisto??

"WHY- are people just sneaking around today?! hi hello- do you need something?"

Mephisto clears his throat, glancing around for a moment before speaking,

"well. I couldn't help but overhear your conversation-

"you mean eavesdropping for the newspaper club?"

he stops and glares at solomon for both the interruption and the completely untrue accusation!

"I overheared. and I would like to offer my assistance."

silence falls over the two humans before Mc suddenly smiles brightly

"seriously?! i would love your help with this!! I knew you secretly liked me!!"

mephisto's face reddens slightly, probably both from embarrassment and Mc's excitement.

"NO. I- simply think this sort of drama would do well for the newspaper club. I have no interest in helping your pride recover in the slightest."

"mhm, okay, sure."

later on Mc ended up texting the HOL group chat to say that they were staying over at purgatory hall for dinner, though made sure to leave out the fact that mephisto and solomon were there to keep any of the brothers from showing up. unsurprisingly, Mephisto already knew a lot about the guy, and hardly even had to search far to find any more dirt on him. though solomon didn't have a clue on the technology, he surprisingly had some skill in the poetry department, probably due to his old age, so it went smoothly. and the last time mc had sang anything was in elementary school chior, so they surprised themself. all in all it was actually kind of fun, despite the fact that all they did was spend hours on end insulting and airing out a demons dirty laundry.

eventually Mc pointed out how late it was, and that they would sneak back into the HOL and post the music under a new account. but of course they didn't leave before Mephisto made both humans swear to never mention he had anything to do with this. ever. which they agree while giggling, and they all head out and Mc does exactly what they said they would.

and just like in most tv shows written by boomers who dont know how the internet works, it gained attention FAST. mainly because a lot of nocturnal demons had found it and spread it around like crazy.

out of everyone Levi was the very first to hear about it, since he was up into the late hours of the night, and had been tagged by one of his online friends asking "hey isnt this YOUR human lolol?" and he lost his mind, of course the moment he heard about it he was vibrating with amazement and excitement until breakfast, once he knew everyone was downstairs he rushed into the dining room- only to bump into asmo, who was also going to tell everyone the same thing. asmo had been tagged by one of his followers who realized the human artist that popped out of nowhere with ten distracks in one night was also the same human Asmo posted selfies with. once the two composed themselves they told the other five as Mc sat at their chair awkardly trying to eat their breakfast as they feel the brothers eyes slowly land on them one by one. lucifer, on the outside, seemed to be disappointed that mc didn't bring this issue up with them, but on the inside was proud of them for doing something that would surely embarrass the artist. mammon, after getting over the wave of pride he felt for his human, immediately turned and brought up how much money Mc could make off of this! but it was shut down by lucifer the moment it left his mouth. satan and beel both felt angry for a moment at how someone could just insult mc so carelessly, satan calmed down once he thought about how embarrassing it must feel for the artist to not only get such a harsh response, but also to get publicly shamed by other demons. beel only calmed down after Mc told him it was ok, but he was still bummed that someone could ever say anything nasty about Mc. Belphie simply chuckled, referred to the artist as an idiot, and laid his head back down on the table, though on the inside he thought the entire thing was hilarious.

once at RAD it was apparent that it was all that everyone was talking about, and unfortunately for the teachers it was all they would focus on as well. the first to approach mc about it during RAD was Simeon and Luke, Simeon was almost giggling as he asks "so is this what you three were up to last night? I just heard Asmodeus talking about it," which Mc explains that they just didn't want anyone else to handle it with violence or even the death of this demon. Luke, his little speciest self(/j), made it known how proud he was of them for standing up to a demon. Dia of course figures out whats happening as soon as possible once he realizes the entirety of RAD is out of focus, and laughs his ass off over it, of course Mc would do something so silly! humans are so odd!! barbatos of course also finds it funny, but not as much as Dia does. mephisto is questioned by other students on it at some point once they hear he's going to put it in the school news paper, the only thing he says is that mc must have gotten their information from a very reliable source. 13 also thought it was funny, and gloated to other demons about the fact that Mc did such a thing, though later on asked Mc why they would leave her out of something this fun!

at the end of the day multiple students were given detention for being focused on the situation, and the artist was fighting for their LIFE online trying to debunk or defend everything that was mentioned in Mc's tracks, though it didn't help.

(sorry abt the lack of Raphael, I wasn't sure of how to write him- also mb for this taking me so long lol, life got in the way and I got busy) ((and also my apologies if this seems out of character for anyone at all, the emperor's groove got thrown off:[ ))

[roosterforme]

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 24 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With just a few short days left in Hawaii, you and Bradley talk about a lot of important things and make some important plans. And when Bradley asks you what else you have in your special suitcase, you both end up getting more than you bargained for. 

Warnings: Fluff, smut, and swearing

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley woke up with you straddling his face. 

"Roo, please," you whined, pulling at his hair as your pussy skimmed along his rough chin. As soon as his lips parted and you felt the swipe of his tongue, you moaned in delight. 

Without a word, Bradley wrapped his hands around your hips and stroked your tattoo while you rode his face. His dick got harder as he looked up at you, brow scrunched up in determination as you bumped against his nose. He alternated between sucking on your clit and letting you grind against him as you got nice and loud.

"Are you gonna fuck me, Roo?" you asked, and even if you didn't mean it to sound dirty, it did. It really did. Your grunts paired with that filthy sentence had him determined to get you off like this. So instead of answering you immediately, he made you cum, and you gently squeezed around his tongue as your fingers relaxed in his hair.

"Yeah," he growled. "I'm gonna fuck you." He rolled you onto your belly and watched as the early dawn sunlight illuminated the villa. With your ass in the air and your cheek pinned to the bedding with his hand around the back of your neck, he filled you up.

You collapsed into a boneless heap as if you were ready to go back to sleep. "No, Baby Girl. It's time to get dressed. We have our boat outing this morning."

You whined and complained and didn't move from the bed while Bradley got dressed. "I changed my mind about riding the boat. I just want to ride your cock."

Bradley snorted as he scooped you out of bed and helped you get cleaned up. "Well, I need a little break."

Your eyes went wide with mischief. "You're such an old man."

"Listen," he growled as you got ready to go. "I can keep up just fine." But Bradley was honestly feeling all thirty six years old at the moment. You wanted him at least three times a day. He was currently living for those afternoon naps on the deck where you just wanted to snuggle up on his chest and relax. 

"Okay, old man Roo," you whispered, taking his hand and leading him outside. "I'll spend the afternoon feeding you fruit next to our pool and giving you a back rub. How does that sound?"

He laughed and helped you into the golf cart. "Sounds ideal."

After the two hour long boat tour, during which you snuggled up on Bradley's lap and played with his hair, you picked a restaurant for a late breakfast. Bradley ate with his arm around your shoulders as you told him in great detail how much you loved Hawaii and thought they should move here.

"The beaches, Bradley. So much better than San Diego. We could get stationed in Pearl Harbor. We could move into the villa."

He kissed your cheek. "If you thought the villa was expensive for ten days, let's stick with our craftsman."

"You need to let me start helping you pay the mortgage and the rest of our bills," you said, and when he opened his mouth, you smashed your palm against it. "I don't even want to hear you argue with me about this."

"Fine," he murmured, kissing your palm when you removed it. He thought he could hear his credit cards sigh in relief. 

"I have so much money saved since I stopped paying rent," you told him. "Definitely enough to redo one of the bedrooms into a nursery when the time comes."

He perked right up. "Airplane themed," he whispered, kissing your nose. "That's all I ask."

You laughed but agreed with him. "Airplane themed."

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

Bradley laid out the lounge chair cushions right on the deck and dozed off and on while you swam for the afternoon. Any time he woke up, you swam over to the edge of the pool and fed him a bite of food, just like you had promised you would. And then after he thanked you, he dozed off again. 

After a few hours, you climbed out of the pool to join him, and he wordlessly welcomed you as you curled up all wet on his chest. This was perfect. Ten days of this was not going to be enough. You were surprised you weren't missing work. But with 24/7 access to your husband, everything else seemed to pale in comparison. 

"Baby Girl?" Bradley asked after you heard his stomach growling. "What else is in that suitcase of yours?" he asked groggily. 

"I thought you'd never ask!" you said, popping up from his chest and giving him a kiss. Then you proceeded to stand up and remove your bathing suit, draping both pieces over a chair so they could finish drying in the late afternoon sunlight. "Come look."

Bradley followed your every movement as you strolled completely nude into the villa, and then he was stripping out of his shorts and rushing inside after you. "Show me," he whispered, letting his hands settle on your hips as he rested his chin on your shoulder. 

You turned to kiss his mustache as you procured a purple silicone toy from inside your lingerie filled suitcase and held it up. "Should I add this to my outfit when I get dressed for dinner?"

Bradley groaned and started kissing along your neck. "A vibrator? You're going to wear a vibrator to dinner?" His voice was laced with need and disbelief, and you giggled in response. 

"Yes. And you can control it on your phone."

"Fuck," he grunted, and you could feel his hard cock at your lower back.

"Get your phone, so we can download the app."

Bradley had never released your body from his grasp so quickly before, nearly sprinting away to get it. Within minutes, he had set up the app and was testing out your toy in his hand. And with a look of delight as the "U" shaped vibrator danced in his hand, he mused out loud, "I wonder if I can control this thing from the wifi on an aircraft carrier."

Your jaw dropped as you looked at him. "I would be more than willing to help you find out," you told him. "But let's see how well it works with the resort wifi first."

Bradley groaned, and you ran your fingers along his hardening cock. When he reached for you again, you deftly slipped away from him and grabbed your clothes. "Come back, Baby Girl," he rasped.

"Save it for dinner," you replied, heading for the bathroom to shower and get dressed. Once you were all made up and ready to go, you collected Bradley from the deck. He must have used the shower outside, because his hair was still damp and he smelled like the delicious hibiscus soap. 

He ran his fingers along the hem of your dress before he stood. "You look pretty," he whispered, letting his hand trail underneath your dress and up along your thigh as he pressed his body to yours. "How's that sweet pussy that I love so much? All dressed up for dinner as well?"

You hummed next to his ear as his fingers met the toy that was tucked inside you and touching your clit as well. "I'm ready to be teased."

"Well that's good, because my phone is at one hundred percent battery, and I love teasing you," he replied, leading you out to the golf cart with a noticeable erection in his white pants. You didn't even fucking care, and clearly neither did he. 

The toy was actually providing you with pleasure as you walked. It seemed to be rubbing a sweet spot inside of you while simultaneously gliding across your clit as your hips moved. "Bradley?" Your voice was breathy and needy, and the look he gave you was sinful as he held your hand while you climbed into the cart.

"Yes, my love?"

You reached up and ran your fingers along his scars before you kissed him. "You're the best."

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

With a hard dick and a fully charged phone, Bradley walked with you positioned in front of him as you were led across the soft sand to a table on the beach for dinner. The table was small with a bench on one side, and Bradley slid in next to you. When the waiter handed you both menus and then turned away, you pressed your lips to Bradley's ears and whined. "It's not even on yet, and I'm already going to lose my mind."

Coming to dinner was probably a poor decision. Room service would have been the way to go. But the way you were rubbing yourself against Bradley was making him lose his mind a little bit too. And now he was opening the app and holding up his phone for you to see him select the lowest setting, tapping it one time with his thumb.

"Oh, fuck!" you said quickly, squirming around next to him while the waiter returned with a bottle of wine. Bradley listened to you order dinner, each syllable coming out in a shaky, needy voice while you uncrossed and recrossed your legs. The waiter eyed you a little cautiously when you bit down on the tip of your index finger, but he didn't say anything else. 

"Make it two," Bradley said, unsure about what you had actually ordered, but happy to eat anything while you were softly moaning next to him with a look of aroused panic on your face. 

"Roo," you gasped. "This feels so good."

He kissed you hard in the twilight darkness while soft music played nearby. You kept moaning the word good in between kisses, and Bradley wanted to take you back to the villa so badly. But he also wanted to edge the hell out of you until you were practically in tears for him. 

As soon as he released your lips, he could feel your hand on his cock underneath the tablecloth. "What are you doing, Sweetheart?" he grunted as you unzipped his pants. 

"Making you feel good, too."

Bradley glanced around and relaxed a little as the beach grew darker, and he let himself enjoy this completely depraved dinner. He buttered some bread and poured himself a little more wine while you stroked your hand languidly up and down his length. Then he hand fed you while you moaned, nibbling on the bread with wide eyes. 

When you reached down to cup his balls and squeeze him gently, he kissed you. "I think you're ready for the moderate setting."

Bradley had to cut up your food and feed it to you while you rocked your hips slowly forward and backward. He was working hard to deny his own orgasm as you made soft, pornographic noises. You made it halfway through your dinner, still teasing his cock with your hand, when you whispered, "I'm going to cum."

"No," Bradley replied, shutting the vibrator off as you keened in displeasure. "Not yet."

"Roo!" you gasped, and he had to kiss you to keep you quiet as the waiter strolled back over.

"Behave," Bradley warned you. Luckily the handjob he was getting was hidden by the tablecloth, but his overstimulated wife was right out in the open, moaning about which dessert she wanted. Bradley grinned, because really, in the grand scheme of things, he was living a very charmed life when it came to you.

So he ordered his dessert as well as yours and asked the waiter to pack them to go. Then he turned to you, set the vibrator back to low, and said, "We can eat dessert back at the villa."

"Okay, Daddy!" you moaned so loudly, your hips rocking gently again as your nipples strained against your dress. And without any warning, you started jerking him off harder. 

"Shit," he groaned, because now you had him too close. He had convinced himself he could hold off until returning to the villa. He had been wrong. As you whined his name, he knew it was over, so he pulled his pants up over himself the best he could. 

And then Bradley was cumming in his pants like a teenager with his first girlfriend. And it felt so fucking good, too. Your hand was cum soaked and gliding over his skin while you started to grind on his thigh. He needed to get you out of here before you both got kicked out of the resort. 

"Where are we going?" you asked, making it really difficult for him to zip his pants while you sat in his lap and licked cum off your hand. 

"God damn it," he growled, shoving his tongue between your lips to taste himself there, and then he hoisted you up in his arms and carried you to the golf cart. "I'm taking you back to the villa. We can order dessert later. After I'm done with your pussy."

You were grinding against his abs, that vibrator still doing god's work, prepping you so well for him. Once he got you out on the secluded trail, Bradley pushed you up against a palm tree and sucked on your tits through your dress until you were really loud. Your sticky hand was wrapped around his neck, and he thought he was going to have to fuck you on the seat of the golf cart. Because by some miracle he was already hard again, and he fucking needed you.

"I need you to fuck me," you said abruptly. 

"It's literally the only thing I can think about, let me assure you."

"God, Roo! This toy is evil!" you squealed as he got you situated in the golf cart, turned the headlights on and started to drive. Bradley watched you grip the dashboard with both hands as your head tipped back in pleasure.

"Do not cum yet!" he scolded as he drove a little faster. 

You turned and glared at him in the dim light. "You're as evil as the toy!"

He laughed at you. He couldn't help it. "I'm about to treat you real sweet if you can just hold off a little longer, Baby Girl."

"Fine!" you shouted, pouting at him while he jerked the steering wheel around the last turn before the villa, lit up but lanterns on the porch, came into view. And then Bradley carried you inside, vibrating pussy and all.

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

You were lost somewhere close to euphoria as Bradley laid you gently on the bed and pushed your dress up to your waist. He spread your legs wide as you tried desperately to keep them together. You were ready to cum. This obscene little toy would be your undoing. 

"It's so pretty," Bradley whispered, running his thumb along the vibrator as he held you open wide with his body between your legs. "What a gorgeous pussy, soaking wet and filled up."

You were about to beg him to remove the toy when he pulled his phone from his pocket and took some pictures of you. "Please?"

He smirked at you. "Only because you asked so nicely." And then he cranked the app up to the high setting, and your hips shot right off the bed. "Bradley! No!" It was too much. You had been on the edge for too long, receiving pleasure both inside and against your clit. 

You wanted the familiar, loving feel of Bradley in and on you. He must have read it on your face or in your voice as he gently removed the vibrator and buried his face in your pussy. The feeling of relief was almost instantaneous. Stubble rubbed your sensitive parts as you wound your fingers in his hair. You felt your body going limp even before your orgasm fully hit. And somehow you just knew what was going to happen before it did.

You propped yourself up slightly, as well as you could, and you watched Bradley work his lips on your overstimulated pussy. And then when you came, you gushed all over his mustache and lips, a sound like a dying animal on your lips. Bradley went harder, lapping up every bit of the squirting mess you made. 

Your eyes closed and opened a few times, feeling numb now as you drew your legs together. "I made a mess," you whispered, slurring your words a bit as Bradley eased his body fully on top of yours. He kissed and positively worshipped you with his lips and wet mustache. He smelled like you. The whole room did. 

"You squirted, Baby Girl. Not a mess. Perfection. I love it," he whispered, stroking your neck with his thumb and pressing on your pulse point while your eyes closed again. You could feel how hard he was again. 

"Bradley?" you whispered, turning your head to the side as he sucked hard on your neck. He was grinding against your body, but you couldn't figure out what to do for him. You just wanted to make him feel good. 

"Please?" he rasped, his breath hot on your ear and your neck. "I wanna fuck you."

Silently you spread your legs open for him, and Bradley was thrusting his cock inside you with one hard snap after the next, fucking you into the bed. His lips were harsh on your nipples, and you could only manage to stroke your fingers through his hair softly. 

"You feel so good, you feel so fucking good," he grunted, voice shaking as he somehow got you to squeeze gently around his cock while you moaned softly. 

When he came, he filled you up, but you were almost asleep by the time he withdrew. "Sweetheart?" he asked, stroking your cheek and kissing your lips. "Are you okay?"

"I'm good," you promised, and he carefully scooped you up against his chest and cradled you in his arms. As you dozed against his chest, you could hear him pick up the phone and say, "Hi, this is the Bradshaws. We're going to need a piece of cheesecake and some clean bedding."

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

After Bradley drew a bath and got you situated in the tub with a bottle of water, he kissed you and pulled on some shorts. When the housekeeper arrived, he closed the bathroom door so you had some privacy. You'd never looked quite this spent before. 

You weren't wrong. That toy needed to be handled with caution. You had instructed him to wash it, put it back in its case, and send it to the bottom of your sinful suitcase. And now Bradley wasn't sure how soon he would see it again. 

Once the bedding was replaced and you were dried off, Bradley led you outside to the deck in your fluffy bathrobe. "Time for dessert," he whispered, and you sat on his thigh with your head on his shoulder. He fed you a bite of cheesecake every time you parted your lips, and when you were chewing, he took one for himself. "You did so good," he promised, kissing your hair and rubbing your thigh. "So so good. Squirted for me and let me cum in your pussy."

You parted your lips again, taking another bite of dessert from the fork as Bradley softly sang your praises with the sound of the waves breaking on the shore as a soundtrack.

When you fell asleep in bed, you were out cold until the morning. 

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

You only had two days left in Hawaii with Bradley. Your husband. Everything had been perfect. You only wanted to be around him nonstop, have him touching you and talking to you. You didn't know how you were going to be able to fall back into your previous routine when you had to return to San Diego. Because when you had to return to work in a few days, you wouldn't get to have sex every eight hours, and have Bradley feed you dessert, and walk around naked.

You sighed against his cheek. He was sound asleep on the lounge chair, and you carefully extracted your body from his, nearly falling into the pool in the process. With a grin on your face, you tied up your red bikini bottoms and adjusted your top. 

The other day, you had slept for twelve hours after Bradley had overstimulated you during dinner. Now it was his turn. He earned this nap. You'd kept him hard for an hour before finally letting him cum inside you. He was almost entirely unwilling to cum anywhere else at the moment, even when you mentioned your face as an example of a lovely place to do that.

You bent and kissed his cheek, and then you slid the deck partition open and took off toward the water. You walked up and down the long stretch of sand, occasionally stopping to wade in the ocean up to your knees. 

The north end of the resort where your villa was located was much quieter. You only ran into a handful of people as you searched for shells, which was fine with you. Somehow you hadn't thought to feel self conscious around Bradley during your honeymoon. You'd been strutting around naked or barely clothed and letting him touch you everywhere all the time. But truthfully, you had never really felt shy about your looks around him at all. He was always so excited to tell you what he thought about you physically, and it had always been very flattering. 

But now that you were out on the beach instead of just the private patio in your tiny red bathing suit, you were wishing you'd grabbed his floral print shirt from the deck chair. 

You washed off the collection of colorful shells you found in the calm, pristine water, and then turned back toward the villa. 

"You dropped this one."

You turned back toward the water and saw a guy holding out one of the larger shells you had found. "Thanks," you told him, holding out your hand for it. But with a grin on his face, he shook your hand instead.

"I'm Aaron," he told you, holding your hand expectantly. 

You laughed and told him your first name. "I was actually reaching out for the shell."

"I know," he told you with a nod and a laugh. "But the opportunity was too good to pass up."

Now you were holding out a grabby hand which made him laugh more, but he handed you the shell. "I like your tattoo. It's unique," he told you, his eyes dipping down your body. You froze immediately. This was the first time you could recall anyone other than Bradley or your friend Caleb laying eyes on your dainty rooster. 

"Thanks," you said, and the word sounded long and drawn out even to your own ears. "It's kind of new," you told him, still in a bit of a daze.

"It's some sort of bird?" he asked, grinning and taking a small step closer. "Are you a bird enthusiast?"

You almost snorted. "Well, I like roosters."

He was rambling on about birds now as his eyes were glued to your tattoo, and you were trying to find a good break in what he was saying to let him know you had to get back to your husband. And that's when you heard Bradley's voice.

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

Bradley mumbled your name as he woke up, but when he moved his left arm, you weren't there. The sun was warm on his skin now, and he felt like he had slept for days. You were a handful. You'd spent the last week continuously luring him to bed with you. Not that it was a difficult sell for him at all. He just really needed that nap.

He could hear the music still playing through his phone as he stretched and stood with a groan. It had to be close to dinnertime, and he was starving. But after calling your name and glancing around the villa, he decided to go in search of you before making any decisions about what to eat. 

He knelt next to the pool and splashed a little water on his face and ran his fingers through his hair. He really needed to shave, but you kept telling him you were enjoying the rough feel of his facial hair. Maybe he wouldn't shave for the few days both of you had off over the upcoming holidays. Maybe he could even stretch it to your birthday. 

How on Earth did he feel so needy for you at the moment? Probably because he'd been with you nonstop for days and days, and he was so used to the feeling of contentment that came when you were close by. He wanted you, so he set off to find you. 

Slipping through the open partition, Bradley started to stroll between palm trees and flowering plants and made his way toward the water. And when he glanced to his left, he spotted you right away. It would be impossible to miss you in that sinful little bikini. You told him you bought it in red because it's his favorite color, and that made him feel so smug.

But now some other random asshole was looking at you. In your red bikini. The one you bought to show off how good you looked and make Bradley hard. What the fuck?

Bradley started heading toward you. Now this guy was touching you, and now Bradley was getting pissed. He squinted to get a better look as he got closer, but he could tell his guy was eyeing you up.

"Jesus Christ," Bradley muttered, walking a little faster. He was pointing at your pussy, and Bradley saw him mouth the word 'tattoo' while he did so. 

That was for Bradley to look at. Only Bradley. Your husband.

"Oh no you don't," Bradley announced as he strolled up behind you. "This one is mine."

You spun to face him with a bright smile. "You're awake!"

But now this guy was looking at your ass as you wrapped your arms around Bradley's waist.

"Hey," Bradley barked, and the other man's eyes snapped up to meet his. "Give it a rest, man. She's got my rings on her finger, my tattoo by her pussy, and she's still full of my cum from earlier." 

"Bradley!" you said with a startled laugh, looking up at him with a thoroughly shocked expression. "Did you wake up on the wrong side of the lounge chair?"

"I did. The side where my wife wasn't there. Let's go."

You muttered an apology to that asshole, saying, "Sorry, he gets a little cranky. He probably needs to be fed."

"Wrong, Baby Girl," he growled, palming your ass and tossing you over his shoulder while you laughed and screeched. "I need to be fucked by my wife."

"Okay, Daddy," you muttered as he carried you back to the villa, stroking his fingers along your thighs. "I can take care of that for you."

Three minutes later, Bradley was splayed back on the lounge chair naked, and you were untying your bikini bottoms again. His hard cock jumped against his abs as the red fabric fell to the deck at your feet.

"Come here," he demanded softly, and you straddled his thighs so he could feel your wet pussy on his balls. "This is mine," he whispered, skimming his fingers along your tattoo as you nodded hungrily at him. "And this is mine." He ran his fingers through your pussy as you cried out in need. "And this is mine, too." He stroked your cheek with his wet fingers and then let you lick yourself from his hand. 

You were grinding against his cock, and he couldn't get himself inside you fast enough. "Roo!" you sang so prettily as you rode him. He gripped your hips, guiding you exactly where he wanted you as he covered your tattoo in your own wetness. 

"I love you so much," he promised, sliding your bathing suit top to expose both of your tits. He stroked your nipples softly as you bounced on him, then he pulled you closer to get his mouth on you. 

He sucked on your tits hard enough to leave bruises that you would feel the next day. And when you came on his cock, whining Daddy loud enough for anyone on the beach to hear, Bradley couldn't stop himself. With your nipple in his mouth, he bucked up into you until he filled you with even more of his cum. 

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

When you finally caught your breath, you were draped across Bradley with his dick still inside you and your lips on his neck. "Were you a little jealous of that guy on the beach, Roo?" you asked softly. 

He gently stroked his hand along your arm until he reached your hand. "He was looking at your tattoo. I was feeling a little territorial."

You laughed, your sticky body rubbing his. "I was feeling a little self conscious. I don't think this bathing suit was made for public consumption."

Bradley kissed your fingers. "It's definitely made for private consumption, Sweetheart. But you look so fucking hot in this tiny scrap of fabric, I can't even be mad that someone else was looking at you."

"You always make me feel good about myself," you whispered, and Bradley wrapped his arms around you. 

"Will you wear this in my next calendar?" he asked, and you started laughing again. 

"What makes you think you're getting another calendar?"

"I thought I was getting one every year for my birthday!" He'd been thinking about you in another set of calendar photos with a pregnant belly. It was almost too much. Then he'd have two versions of you to jerk off to.

"Mmm," you hummed. "If that's what you really want, I'll see what I can do. Come shower with me."

Bradley carefully washed your body, letting his hands enjoy the feel of all of your curves while you washed his hair. He was nearly panting with his eyes closed as your fingers worked into his scalp. It was just like the first night he ever spent with you. Bradley had known even then that he wanted to end up here with you today. 

"I love you, Baby Girl. More than anything."

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

Thanks so much for reading! The next chapter will be the end of this series as they return to San Diego. I have loved every minute it this adventure, and I hope you'll keep reading along with Roo and Baby Girl on their next adventure! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 25

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[silent-sanctum]

AHH i love your work!! ignore this if you don’t wanna write this but could i request a part 4 jotaro with a surgeon reader? like how they work around eachothers work schedule?

thqnk you!! have a good day/night!! <3

AHH thank you anon! 🥹💖 Lucky for you your request wasn't ignored because I have a cute lil short fic for you! Have a good day to you as well and hope you enjoy! ♡

Professional Love - Jotaro x Reader

word count: 1.8k

He always sort of knew that even if someone was able to succeed greatly in life, earn loads, and establish a famous reputation, there were always downsides to the many rewards hard work offered.

Such as not having enough time to spend with loved ones.

Ironically enough, as someone who likes the solitude of their alone times, Jotaro began to miss being around you. Whether it was because of him hitting adulthood that nostalgia decided to kick in, or some instinctual necessity ingrained deep in him, he’d do anything within plausibility just to talk to you like the old days.

Both you and he were married to each other and were successful doctors in their own fields- You as a literal licensed physician and skilled neurosurgeon, and Jotaro a well-known marine biologist and professor of an Ivy League university with a doctorate.

It was established early on from high school that the two of you had no problems being their own persons. Both of you were independent and had the tendency to keep themselves occupied with work, but never drowning in them too much that it stifled any romantic chemistry between you.

Well… at least that’s the case when they were still teenagers.

Now that they were professionals, work was always mandatory and couldn’t be excused like how a high school student would to homework. Both careers demanded their focus.

On average, you were off either doing rounds or surgery during the day sometimes even at night, while he had the morning and afternoon booked doing field study or teaching college students. At times, there were also the meetings held in other cities or countries that you had to attend to.

By some miracle despite with their hectic schedules, you still held onto the love you had for your husband even if you weren’t around him most of the time. In the hours Jotaro was able to sync up with yours, both of you swore to cherish that short amount of time.

A carefree conversation unrelated to work. Shared time for drinks and snacks. Napping in each others arms.

Anything. He just wanted to see you, hear you, feel you just so he’d have that one moment of intimacy where he’s able to relax and be Jotaro Kujo and not that rigid and stoic Head of Research image he’d put on in public.

This shouldn’t be a big deal for him.

And yet-

As he unlocked the front door to their home, Jotaro sighed as he shrugged off his coat and left it to hang on the nearby rack. He flicked the light switch on and the interior lit up to reveal an empty living room, devoid of anyone living here for hours. No sounds of dishes and utensils, no TV airing a favored show, not even the faintest steps of somebody roaming about.

Jotaro ignored this newfound feeling he’d recognize as “loneliness” and went about the rest of the night.

You were out of country to meet with a group of surgeons in Germany, discussing matters that were too technical and specific to the medical field that he couldn’t understand. You told him that the meeting would take at least a week to finish. Jotaro was in the 4th day and he’d begun to feel… pathetic? Was that the right word?

Getting glimpses of you or engaging with you for a minute to get through the busy day was one thing. Being left alone without receiving at least a single update was another.

He did what always does after a day’s work- Take a shower, prepare dinner, grade papers or review documents, and go to bed. But in the middle of his evening routine, his mind couldn’t help but wander off how tonight would’ve played out if you were here.

Would you greet him late in the dark and chat about your day about someone’s lobotomy? Would you help out in the kitchen and add in another meal for the both of them? Would you lie in bed with him and just sleep to their hearts’ content, hoping an emergency call wouldn't disrupt your slumber at dawn?

Jotaro shook his head and took a sip of his tea. “What are you thinking? You’re acting as if this trip lasts a year.” He scoffed at no one as he took his now empty plate and set it down in the sink for him to clean. “Honestly, why are you like this nowadays?”

As an answer to that, a younger version of himself would’ve denied it with lies and brush it off like as if it’s an intrusive thought, because being anything remotely sentimental would ruin his whole image. 28-year-old Jotaro knew better that the answer was simple- he just missed you. Even if it was just meeting one another at home before leaving for work again.

He sighed for the nth time and walked into his office, where stacks of folders and papers waited for him to go-over and process.

Nothing extraordinary happened the following hours. Just one man with his glasses and pen buried in piles of documents as usual. To spare him the monotony of his evening plus the strain in his eyes from overworking, on his table were 2 picture frames situated just beneath the monitor where he could drift his gaze to from time to time.

One was of him as a child with his mother carrying him with a big loving smile. The other was of the both of you taken during your wedding day- you in your pure white dress, your veil pulled back to show your blooming smile, and him in a crisp black tuxedo with a chrysanthemum brooch pinned to his left chest, a smile of his own clear on his face.

By the time Jotaro finished the last of the load, the only thing left for him to do was to sleep and let the next day arrive.

So he did just that- switched off the lights in his study, went to his room, and got into bed. A king-sized bed that’s supposed to be shared with you. His side of the bed was on the left where the bedside table was with the small lamp on top. Convenient for when he still needed to read a few more books before sleeping.

But in the darkness, he turned over to the empty side beside him. Your side.

Sure you sometimes came home late into the early morning and he had to sleep all by himself, but Jotaro liked waking up to find you next to him, snuggling close to him, tired from all those hours of surgery.

It’s the 4th night without you and he continued to sleep regardless.

Come next morning and the first thing he was able to perceive was the smell of bacon, eggs, and coffee in the air and the faint sizzling that came with it. Jotaro didn’t know how he wasn’t able to notice but maybe through his sleep-addled mind, he woke up as he would and trudged his way down the stairs to make breakfast.

Only by the time he stepped one foot down, he was met with a dining table already set with the morning meal and 2 cups of steaming coffee.

“What… is this?”

“Oh yeobo! You’re up!”

Jotaro paused upon hearing that voice coming in from the kitchen. Wait that couldn’t be right. You said the meeting lasted a week and it’s only the 5th day. How was this- He scoffed again, at himself for letting himself think too much of you that he started to hear hallucinations of your voice as early as 7 AM.

He ran his hand through his curly bed hair. “This can’t be happening. I can’t believe this is happening to me of all people.”

“Can’t believe what is happening of all people?”

A pair of arms wrapped themselves around Jotaro’s waist and he stilled. Is it really? He looked over his shoulder and in the warmly lit daylight, you were there behind him, smiling up at him with so much love in the world. Jotaro couldn’t believe it. “Good morning, love~”

“I thought you were supposed to be out for a week?”

“Oh about that,” you said. “The meeting didn’t take too long to finish as they had hoped. All we needed were 3 days and got everything settled.”

You pulled away and lead him to his spot by the head of the table with you sitting adjacent to him. “They suggested I take a look around the place for the meantime, you know enjoy the scenery and whatnot. But then I thought to myself,” you looked away momentarily. “I have a couple days free. Everyone in the hospitals I work at, know I’m booked during those weeks. So, unless it's really urgent, I'll just be here.”

“And I… missed being around my husband these couple days,” you said. “And I know you might be thinking I’m making a big deal of this whole “missing each other” schpill, but at the same time, it’s visceral and nagging to the point it’s bothering me even during work.”

“You’re not making anything a big deal when the feeling is mutual,” Jotaro replied without looking at you, feigning nonchalance. Though his cheeks heated and eyes squinting just a bit at the casual confession. That’s to say he’s still not used to being this open to expression. “It’s driving me nuts too.”

You chuckled. “I’m glad I’m not the only going crazy, but Jotaro-ssi?” He paused just as he was about to bite down onto a piece of bacon and you waved at him to you. “I have something to tell you.”

With no hesitation, Jotaro leaned over to you until he was inches away from your face. And in that moment, you cupped his cheek and pressed a soft kiss on his lips.

His heart skipped a beat or two and the warmth present in his cheeks flared up once more. You were always the teasing type that he got accustomed to.

You withdrew shortly after with a mischievous smirk on your face. “I missed doing these surprise kisses.”

He huffed. “Never failed to catch me off guard.”

“And since I’m free for the next 3 days, how about we do some stuff together?” You said. “Unless you still have work to accomplish-”

“My students are on their field trip this week with another professor and I’ve already made the necessary changes to the research team’s proposals so they can work on it.” Jotaro smiled. “Safe to say I’m free this week as well.”

Knowing that caused you to bloom on the spot- eyes beaming with joy and a blossoming grin showing itself for him to adore. “I can’t wait. Movie night?”

“Sure.”

“Genre? Snacks? Say the word so I can prepare. I want to make our first mini vacation perfect and-” He cut you off with a chaste kiss on your temple.

“Anything will do jagi.”