#i feel like the world just tilted a little

[connorsui]

"Talking about ...you"

“Do you see ...her?” he begins, his voice low, almost reverent, as if afraid his words might shatter the moment he gestures toward her, where she stands with her back to him, the soft curve of her shoulder catching the light. “Look at her. Everything she does—it’s not just living; it’s art.”

He exhales slowly, shaking his head as if the weight of his feelings is too much to hold inside. “You don’t get it. It’s not just about the way she looks, though God knows she’s breathtaking. It’s… everything. The way she tilts her head when she’s thinking, the way her laughter sounds like it was made just to pull me out of the darkest corners of myself. Every time she smiles, it’s like the world pauses—just for her.”

He glances at him then, his eyes bright, his tone more insistent. “I’ve memorized her, you know. Every little thing. The way she brushes her hair behind her ear, the way her hands move when she talks, the way she says my name. She doesn’t even realize the power she has over me. I crave her, not just physically, but... spiritually. Her existence—it’s everything. She could be across the room, or on the other side of the world, and I’d still feel her. Like she’s tethered to me, like every breath I take is because she’s somewhere out there, breathing too.”

He looks back at her, his expression softening, his voice quieter now. “You think I’m exaggerating? That I’ve just romanticized her into some unreachable thing? You’re wrong. She’s as real as it gets. Flawed, messy, and human—but that’s what makes her perfect. She’s not just someone I love. She’s the reason I believe love exists at all.”

He pauses, his jaw tightening slightly, his words filled with an almost desperate honesty. “I know it sounds like too much. Like no one could be that important. But when you find someone like her—someone whose very existence makes you feel like the luckiest man alive—how could you ever let that go? She’s everything I never knew I needed. And I’ll never stop craving her. Not in this lifetime. Not in the next.”

The man: Sylus, Ekko, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Nikto, Keegan, Nanami Kento, Higuruma Hiromi, Gojo Satoru, Erwin, Levi Ackerman, Zayne, Xavier, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Dabi, Katsuki, Halsin, Aemond Targaryen

[faebled-stories]

A Journey to Belong

Kinkvember Day 26: Collaring

LOONA/Lossemble Kim Hyunjin x Male reader

AN: Woke up this morning to see an anon sharing a picture that was absolutely perfect. I'm a little gutted I didn't think to use it first, but I'm swapping out the original because it fits so well. Shoutout to that anon!

Hyunjin used to wear her collar with pride. To her, it was more than just an accessory; it was a quiet proclamation of something deeper, something grounding. The soft leather always warmed against her skin, like a second pulse in tune with her own. She would touch it absentmindedly, her fingers brushing its edge when she was lost in thought or overwhelmed by emotion. It wasn’t just a tether—it was comfort, a mark of belonging, a secret she carried that only the two of you truly understood.

Sometimes, you’d catch her tracing its curve, her lips curling into a playful, knowing smile. She seemed to radiate joy in those moments, a quiet confidence that reflected her connection to you. When she laughed, her head tilted just enough for the light to catch its polished surface, creating a subtle gleam that felt like it winked just for you. That collar wasn’t just part of her identity—it was part of yours. A symbol that carried the weight of something words couldn’t touch, a connection that went deeper than mere appearance.

In the past, she treated it with reverence. Her hands would move with care as she adjusted it in the morning, her fingers slow and deliberate, as if the act were a ritual. When you fastened it around her neck, her posture straightened, her shoulders set, as though she were bearing the weight of something noble, something cherished. But lately, that reverence had begun to fade.

The world had grown heavier on her shoulders, its quiet burdens pressing into her with relentless persistence. It dulled the gleam in her eyes, dimming the light that once made them shine like distant stars. She moved slower now, less deliberate, her rhythm disrupted by the constant push and pull of responsibilities she could never quite shake. You saw it in the way her hand brushed the collar less often, in the way it hung around her neck without the same meaning. It had begun to feel like an afterthought—a once-sacred symbol reduced to just another thing she wore.

The rituals that once anchored her, those small acts that reminded her of who she was and what she meant to you, had grown scarce. The quiet moments where meaning was woven, thread by thread, had been replaced by silence. It wasn’t just the collar losing its weight—it was the spaces between you that felt heavier now, filled with an unspoken distance that you couldn’t quite bridge.

That evening, the house was quiet. The golden hues of sunset filtered through the curtains, pooling in soft puddles of light on the wooden floor. You stood in the bedroom doorway, your shadow stretching long across the room as you watched her. She was tucking her legs beneath the blanket, her movements slow, tired. Normally, this hour was sacred. She would kneel beside the bed, her posture straight, her head bowed, her breaths even as she let the weight of the day melt away. It was a small ritual that belonged to the two of you, a moment of balance in a chaotic world.

But tonight, she simply climbed into bed. Brushing a few stray strands of hair from her face, her expression was one of quiet resignation, as though that ritual were nothing more than a faint memory.

“Hyunjin,” you said softly, your voice steady but questioning.

She glanced up at you, her eyes heavy with exhaustion, faint shadows beneath them betraying just how long the day had been. “Hmm?”

“Your ritual,” you reminded her gently, careful to keep your tone light.

“Oh,” she murmured, shifting slightly as she pulled the blanket higher over her shoulders. “I’ll skip it tonight. I’m tired.”

The word hung in the air between you, cold and unyielding. It felt like the first crack in something you’d thought was unshakable. You wanted to press her, to remind her that it wasn’t just a routine but a connection—a space for her, for you, for what you’d built together. But something fragile lingered in her gaze, a weariness that ran deeper than physical fatigue. She looked like a bird perched precariously on a wire, ready to take flight at the slightest movement.

So instead, you nodded and stepped away, the sound of your footsteps fading into the quiet of the house. Still, the tightness in your chest lingered, an ache settling deep as you heard the soft creak of the bed springs signaling her restless sleep.

-----

A couple of mornings later, sunlight poured through the kitchen window, a golden warmth spilling across the tiled floor. Faint motes of dust swirled lazily in the still air, catching the light. The soft hum of the refrigerator was the only sound breaking the silence. You stood at the counter, the warmth of your coffee mug grounding you, your gaze fixed on the corner of the room.

It was the spot you’d asked her to clear days ago. Yet, it remained untouched, the clutter seeming to expand every time you looked at it. Books with dog-eared pages teetered in uneven stacks, half-empty mugs marked with faint coffee rings sat beside plates with crumbs still clinging to them. Papers—some folded, some crumpled—spilled across the surface, as though she’d abandoned them mid-thought. It wasn’t just a mess; it was her mess. Her habits left to fester, her tasks left undone, her things bleeding into the shared space as if their importance extended only as far as her immediate need for them.

You took a slow sip of your coffee, the bitter warmth grounding you as irritation flickered faintly in your chest. Turning toward the sound of soft footsteps, you saw Hyunjin shuffle into the room. Her hair was loosely gathered in a bun, messy strands framing her face, and her phone cast a pale glow across her features. Her thumb moved idly, scrolling with an almost hypnotic focus that made the rest of the world feel distant.

Without looking up, she moved toward the counter, her movements slow and distracted. You waited, letting the silence stretch for a moment, then finally spoke. “Hyunjin, why haven’t you cleaned the corner yet?”

She paused mid-step, her thumb hovering over her phone. For a fleeting second, she looked genuinely confused, like she wasn’t sure what you were talking about. Her eyes followed yours to the mess, and recognition flickered faintly across her face.

“Oh,” she said lightly, her tone casual, as if the neglected corner was an afterthought. “I haven't gotten to it yet.”

You set your coffee mug down carefully, keeping your voice calm but deliberate. “You didn’t get to it?”

“Yeah,” she replied, her tone dismissive, already brushing off the moment. “I’ll do it later. It’s not a big deal.”

Her hand waved vaguely toward the clutter, and she didn’t even glance up from her phone. Her thumb resumed its slow scrolling, her focus absorbed once again by the screen in her hand. The dismissiveness in her words stung more than you expected. It wasn’t the mess itself—it was the meaning behind it, the erosion of care, the growing distance her casual attitude revealed.

“Hyunjin,” you said, your voice tightening slightly. “When I ask you to do something, I expect it to be done.”

She didn’t even glance up, her gaze fixed firmly on her phone. “Okay, okay,” she mumbled, the words quick, automatic, more reflex than acknowledgment. As she turned slightly, she muttered under her breath, “Jeez.”

The word was quiet but sharp enough to cut. It hung in the air, a small jab that carried a weight far heavier than the sound should have. Your jaw tightened, the flicker of irritation blooming into something harder to ignore.

The warmth of the sunlight streaming through the window felt out of place now, incongruous against the tension crackling in the air. The room, once a peaceful haven, suddenly felt heavier. The silence was no longer soothing but charged with something unspoken. You turned back to the window, gripping your coffee mug a little tighter as you stared out at the trees swaying gently in the breeze.

It wasn’t about the mess, not really. It was about what it represented—the slow, creeping disconnection that seemed to settle in the spaces between these moments. You wondered how something so small, so seemingly insignificant, could feel so monumental. But the distance was there, undeniable, growing wider with every careless dismissal, every idle word. You stared out at the golden light playing across the trees and wondered when things had started to slip away.

-----

That evening, the restaurant was softly lit, the golden glow of candles casting flickering shadows across the table. The low hum of conversation mixed with the gentle clinking of silverware, creating an atmosphere that felt both intimate and alive. You and Hyunjin sat among her friends—Go Won, Yeojin, Hyeju, and Vivi—whose chatter flowed easily, punctuated by bursts of laughter that seemed to brighten the room. The five of them shared an easy rhythm, their teasing and playful banter weaving a language they all seemed to instinctively understand.

Hyunjin looked radiant tonight, her cheeks flushed from the warmth of the room and the laughter bubbling from her lips. She leaned forward as Yeojin said something outrageous, her eyes crinkling with genuine amusement, her smile wide and uninhibited. It was the kind of joy that drew you in, making the rest of the room blur around her. For a moment, you let yourself get lost in it, in the way her laughter lit up the space between you, in the quiet pride of seeing her so at ease.

Then, Go Won leaned forward, her grin mischievous, her tone teasing. “So,” she said, drawing out the word, her eyes glinting with barely contained glee, “is it true that Hyunjin’s partner is, like, totally in charge?”

Yeojin giggled, her eyes darting between you and Hyunjin, while Hyeju smirked knowingly. Vivi, who had been sipping her wine, set her glass down delicately and raised a curious eyebrow, her lips curving into a subtle smile. Their teasing filled the air with an electric anticipation, the kind that came before someone said something bold. All eyes turned to Hyunjin, waiting for her response.

Hyunjin laughed, but it wasn’t the soft, genuine sound you’d heard moments before. This laugh was sharp, cutting, her tone tinged with something defensive. “Yeah, right,” she said, flipping her hair with an exaggerated flourish. “He thinks he’s in charge? Oh please.”

The table erupted in laughter. Go Won clapped her hands while Yeojin practically doubled over, her giggles carrying across the room. Even Hyeju, who often played it cool, cracked a grin. Vivi, ever poised, hid her smirk behind her hand, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. You smiled along, but it felt stiff, a hollow gesture as her words sank in.

Beneath the table, you reached for her hand, a subtle gesture meant to ground the moment, to remind her of the connection that should have been there. But her hand shifted slightly, pulling away as if she hadn’t noticed—or perhaps as if she had and didn’t care.

“Hyunjin,” you said softly, leaning toward her so your words wouldn’t carry to the others. Your tone wasn’t angry, but there was a question in it—a quiet nudge toward something unspoken.

For a fleeting moment, her smile faltered. She glanced at you, her eyes flickering with something—hesitation, regret, a sliver of guilt—but it disappeared as quickly as it came. “What?” she said, her voice light, brushing off the moment. “It’s just a joke.”

Her words hit harder than you expected, their casual dismissal cutting deeper than they should have. The conversation rolled forward without missing a beat, the others picking up where they’d left off. Vivi leaned toward Go Won, quietly asking a question that made her laugh, her soft voice adding to the warm hum of the room. Hyunjin, meanwhile, turned back to Hyeju, her smile slipping back into place. On the surface, everything seemed normal, her laughter blending seamlessly into the rhythm of her friends’ banter.

But beneath that surface, her thoughts tumbled. She told herself it wasn’t a big deal—that it was better this way, keeping things light, keeping her independence in view for others to see. They didn’t need to understand everything. They didn’t need to see what happened between the two of you, the private bond that defined her. That was hers to guard. And yet, as she laughed, the thought settled heavily in her chest, an unease she couldn’t quite push away.

You leaned back slightly, withdrawing into the golden light of the restaurant. The room around you was alive with warmth and conversation, but it felt distant, as though it belonged to another world entirely. You watched her across the table, the way she tilted her head toward Hyeju, sharing a private joke, the corners of her lips lifting just enough. It should have been enough to warm you, but instead, a quiet ache gnawed at the space between you.

There was a disconnect now, sharp and unyielding, like an invisible chasm that had opened in the space of a few words. It wasn’t the laughter or even the teasing that stung. It was the way she pulled away—the way her words had drawn a line that neither the candlelight nor the soft hum of the restaurant could cross. The warmth of the evening felt muted, its glow unable to soften the weight of the unspoken distance. You sat back in silence, watching her laugh and smile, and wondered when the connection you shared had started to feel like a memory rather than something real.

The days had begun to blur together, the weight of unspoken tension threading through the quiet of the house. Little moments that once felt warm now felt distant, replaced by a growing disconnect that neither of you had yet acknowledged aloud. You found yourself noticing the small things more—the sound of her keys dropping onto the counter, the way her shoes landed haphazardly by the door, as if she no longer cared where they fell. It was as if the rhythm you once shared had gone slightly out of sync, a subtle discord that lingered in every interaction.

This evening was no different. The house was still, the muted hum of life outside barely audible through the windows. You sat on the couch, a reading lamp casting a soft glow over the book in your hands, the quiet, a fragile balm you hadn’t realized you needed. The words on the page barely registered, your mind wandering to the space between you and Hyunjin, to the way things had begun to fray. You turned the page absently, your focus more on the soft creak of the house settling than on the story in front of you.

The sudden slam of the front door shattered the stillness, the sharp crack slicing through the quiet like a thunderclap. Hyunjin stormed in, her movements hurried and agitated. Her bag slipped off her shoulder and hit the floor with a heavy thud, the sound reverberating in the space like a dropped weight. It landed crumpled and forgotten, a statement as loud as the door she had slammed behind her.

Tension radiated off her in waves, her presence electric, charged with barely contained frustration. She moved with a restlessness that seemed to fill the room, suffocating in its intensity. Her breathing was uneven, her fingers twitching as they reached up to push her hair back from her face, her movements sharp and unrelenting.

From your spot on the couch, you looked up, your grip tightening slightly on the book as the soft light from the lamp illuminated your face. You studied her, taking in the way she paced slightly, her gaze flickering over the space like she was searching for something to anchor her. The energy she brought into the room was undeniable, sharp and restless like the air before a downpour.

“Rough day?” you asked, your voice neutral, carefully measured as you closed the book and set it aside on the small table next to you.

“Don’t start,” she snapped, her voice taut and edged with irritation, each syllable cutting through the stillness like a blade. She kicked her shoes off with thoughtless movements, one landing askew near the door while the other slid across the hardwood with a soft scrape. Without so much as a glance in your direction, she headed toward the kitchen, her movements brisk and full of a frustration she seemed unable to contain.

You rose from the couch, moving calmly in her wake, each step deliberate and unhurried. The tension radiating from her seemed to fill the air, but you kept your own energy steady, refusing to be drawn into the storm she was carrying. “I’m not starting anything,” you said, your voice low and even. “I’m asking.”

“Then don’t!” she said, whirling around to face you, the sharpness in her tone reverberating between you. Her eyes burned with an emotion that went beyond anger—it was raw, layered with exhaustion and something deeper, something tangled and unspoken that caught you off guard. “God, you’re always hovering. Can’t you just give me some space?”

Her words lingered in the air like smoke, acrid and stinging. They cut through the fragile quiet that had filled the house before she arrived, leaving it broken and jagged in her wake. Her shoulders rose and fell with shallow breaths, her chest heaving slightly as though even the act of speaking had pulled something out of her. You took a small step closer, your movements measured, keeping your gaze steady as you tried to read the tension in her stance. Her posture was tight, defensive, her arms twitching slightly as though she wanted to cross them but couldn’t quite commit to the action.

“Hyunjin, come here,” you said softly. Your voice was calm but firm, a quiet invitation edged with a gravity that couldn’t be ignored. It wasn’t loud, but it carried weight, a steady anchor in the turbulence that crackled in the space between you.

Her jaw tightened, her teeth pressing together as she hesitated. For a moment, her arms wrapped around her chest defensively, her body closing off. Her eyes flickered with something between defiance and vulnerability—an emotion she seemed desperate to mask. “What now?” she muttered, her tone laced with sarcasm and exhaustion. “Another lecture? Another rule I’ve broken?”

You let the words hang in the air for a moment, refusing to take the bait. “Come here. Now,” you said again, sharper this time. The calm authority in your voice sliced cleanly through her deflection, leaving no room for argument.

Her body stiffened, her lips parting as if to fire back a retort, but the words caught in her throat. She froze, her arms tightening against her chest as she stared at you, her expression caught somewhere between rebellion and hesitation. The air between you felt impossibly heavy, thick with the weight of all the things left unsaid. Her defiance was still there, simmering just below the surface, but quieter now, edged with uncertainty.

Slowly, deliberately, you reached for the collar around her neck. The movement was calm, but its intent was unmistakable. Her breath hitched audibly, her eyes widening as your fingers brushed the soft leather, warm from her skin. The cool buckle under your touch seemed to amplify the tension, vibrating in the charged silence.

Her reaction was immediate. Her hands shot up, grasping yours with sudden urgency. Her palms pressed against the backs of your hands, trembling slightly as though to stop you—or at least to understand. The contact struck you both, heavier than the action itself, more intimate than any argument could ever be.

Her fingers curled lightly against yours, delicate but insistent, as if trying to cling to something intangible. She didn’t speak, but her eyes searched yours, wide and pleading. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, but the emotion in her gaze spoke louder than any words she could muster.

The buckle clicked open, the sound impossibly loud in the quiet. Her hands lingered on yours for a moment, trembling as though reluctant to let go. When the leather slipped free from her neck, her hands fell away slowly, brushing over her collarbone as if trying to feel the weight that was no longer there.

Her gaze darted downward, her expression shifting between shock and raw vulnerability. “What—what are you doing?” she stammered, her voice faltering, unsteady. Her fingers rose instinctively to the bare skin of her neck, searching for the familiar presence of the collar, now conspicuously absent.

You held the collar in your hands for a moment, its weight feeling heavier than it had ever been. The leather seemed darker under the dim light, more imposing in its absence from her neck. Without a word, you turned and walked toward the mantle, your footsteps deliberate, every step sinking into the silence like a nail into wood.

Carefully, almost ceremoniously, you placed the collar on the mantle. Its dark band stood out starkly against the pale wood, a silent reminder of what it represented. You let your hand linger for a moment before stepping back and turning to face her again.

“If you can’t respect what this collar means,” you said, your voice steady and measured, “then you don’t deserve to wear it.”

Her breath hitched audibly, sharp and hollow in the heavy silence. For a moment, she stared at you, her lips parting as if to argue, but no words came. Her shoulders sagged slightly, and she looked away, her hands twitching at her sides. Then, her gaze snapped back, flickering with faint resistance, though it was muted—more defense than defiance.

“That’s not—” she began, but her voice faltered, the words tapering off. She looked down, her fingers brushing her neck as though searching for the familiar weight that was no longer there. Her jaw tightened, and her voice came softer, almost subdued. “You’re… overthinking this,” she muttered. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

You stayed silent, your gaze steady, letting her words linger in the charged air. She shifted uncomfortably under your scrutiny, her hands falling away from her neck as she glanced toward the collar resting on the mantle. The sight of it made her flinch, her shoulders drawing inward, but she refused to let herself stay vulnerable for long.

“Whatever…It’s just a stupid collar,” she said finally, the words tumbling out too quickly, too defensively, as though trying to shield herself from the enormity of the moment.

Your expression didn’t waver, your silence speaking louder than any response could. Her dismissive tone lingered in the air, but it felt brittle, as though it could shatter under the weight of her unspoken emotions. The room settled into an oppressive stillness, the warmth of the house replaced by a cold tension that neither of you could escape.

Her gaze flicked back to you for a fleeting moment before dropping to the floor. She stood frozen, her fingers twitching at her sides, her vulnerability laid bare despite her words. And as the silence deepened, you wondered if she truly believed what she had just said—or if it was simply easier to say than to confront what the collar, and everything it represented, meant to her.

-----

The absence of the collar should have been no big deal. That’s what Hyunjin told herself that first night, staring at the faint shadows cast by the moonlight on the ceiling. The glow of the streetlights outside spilled through the curtains, painting shifting shapes that danced with the breeze. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, the cool air brushing against her bare neck—a subtle but insistent reminder of what wasn’t there. She pulled the blanket higher around her shoulders, seeking warmth, but it didn’t help. No matter how tightly she cocooned herself, the emptiness followed her, clinging like a shadow she couldn’t shake.

Her fingers fidgeted at her sides, brushing against her throat as though searching for something that wasn’t there. Each time they met bare skin, a pang of frustration mingled with something deeper—something she refused to name—flared in her chest. She shifted onto her side, then her back again, the rustle of the sheets doing little to calm the restless energy coiling within her. The room felt colder, quieter than it should have been, the stillness pressing down on her like a weight.

“It’s just a strip of leather,” she whispered into the dark, her voice barely audible. The words felt hollow even as they left her lips, a weak attempt to convince herself of something she didn’t truly believe. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

Saying it aloud should have helped. It should have silenced the thoughts, dulled the ache in her chest. But the words dissolved into the silence, weightless and meaningless, leaving behind only a sharper awareness of the void they couldn’t fill. She turned her face into the pillow, her fingers clutching the blanket as though holding onto something tangible could ground her. But even that felt futile, like trying to grasp smoke.

Sleep, when it finally came, was fractured and uneasy. Flickering images and sensations haunted her dreams, vague and ungraspable. The sound of your voice lingered in her subconscious—steady, grounding, sure. The firm yet comforting pressure of your hands left an imprint that refused to fade. And the collar—it haunted her, its weight vivid in her dreams, so real she could almost feel it pressing against her skin.

She woke several times throughout the night, her body restless, the blanket tangled around her legs. Each time, her hand instinctively reached for her neck, her fingers brushing the bare skin as though to confirm what her mind already knew. The absence felt like an accusation, a silent reminder of what she had dismissed too easily. By the time the faint light of dawn seeped through the curtains, her body was drained, but her thoughts were relentless, circling the same question: Why did it feel like so much more than just a collar?

-----

By the third day, the weight of the collar’s absence had become unbearable. The void it left consumed her thoughts, gnawing at her relentlessly, each quiet moment amplifying the ache. The collar sat on the mantle in the bedroom, unmoving yet commanding, its polished leather gleaming faintly in the soft light of flickering candles. It seemed so small, so unassuming, yet its presence loomed large, dominating not just the room but her every thought.

At first, she avoided looking at it directly, telling herself it didn’t matter, that it was better to stay busy and keep her focus elsewhere. But the effort was futile. Her eyes betrayed her, flickering back to it again and again, her chest tightening with each glance. The ache inside her grew sharper, more insistent. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her fingers twitching at her sides as though resisting the urge to reach out. It wasn’t just the object that unsettled her—it was the creeping realization of what it symbolized: trust, connection, submission, and the bond she had taken for granted.

She tried to leave the room, to find distraction in other parts of the house, but the bedroom pulled at her like a tide. Each step away felt heavier, harder, until she couldn’t bring herself to leave at all. By midmorning, she was back, sitting on the edge of the bed, her gaze fixed on the mantle. Hours stretched long and quiet around her as she lingered, her presence a silent acknowledgment of the tension she couldn’t escape.

By evening, Hyunjin’s resolve had crumbled entirely. She remained in the bedroom, the air thick with the faint scent of mint and the lingering trace of your cologne. The room seemed heavier than usual, as though the walls themselves were holding their breath, waiting for her to face what she had been avoiding all day.

Her gaze locked on the mantle once again, drawn to the collar as if by an invisible force. Its polished leather caught the flickering candlelight, the buckle gleaming faintly like a distant beacon. Her chest tightened with every passing second as she stared, her reflection faintly visible in the metal, distorted and fragile. Her breath grew shallow, her thoughts swirling into a chaotic storm of guilt, longing, and determination.

Unable to stand the weight of it any longer, she slowly sank to her knees. The wooden floor felt cold against her skin, grounding her trembling body as she settled into position. Her hands rested lightly on her thighs, but her fingers quivered, unable to stay still. She bowed her head, her breath uneven, as though the very act of submission was drawing the truth out of her.

The room pressed down on her in its quiet stillness. Each flicker of candlelight seemed to illuminate the depths of her turmoil, the flames dancing in time with the raw emotion that churned within her.

Her heart pounded steadily in her chest, her body aching from the strain of holding the position, but she refused to move. The act of kneeling felt like the only thing tethering her, a physical manifestation of the submission she had neglected.

She whispered to herself, soft and uncertain, the words carried by the silence. “It wasn’t just a stupid collar. It never was.”

The admission felt raw, vulnerable, but the weight of it didn’t lift. Her breaths came shallow and uneven as the minutes ticked by. Her muscles burned, her knees aching against the hard floor, but she stayed resolute, unwilling to let the discomfort deter her. This was where she belonged—waiting, asking without words for the chance to prove herself.

When the sound of the front door opening echoed through the quiet house, her heart leapt in her chest. Her body stiffened, the faint creak of your footsteps growing louder as you moved closer. She didn’t dare lift her head, the air around her thickening with anticipation. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her thighs, her breath catching as your familiar presence filled the doorway.

You stopped, your shadow falling over her as you took in the scene: Hyunjin kneeling at the foot of the mantle, her head bowed, her form trembling slightly with emotion. The flickering candlelight cast soft shadows across her figure, accentuating the strain in her shoulders, the tension in her hands. She didn’t look up, but the weight of your gaze pressed into her like a tangible force.

“Hyunjin,” you said, your voice low and steady, cutting through the quiet like a blade.

Her head lifted slightly at the sound of your voice, her eyes wide and glistening as they met yours. “Sir,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I… I know I wasn’t called here. But I needed to be here.”

You studied her, your expression unreadable, and she hurried to continue, her words spilling out in a rush. “I’ve been so foolish,” she admitted, her voice cracking slightly. “I thought I could brush it off, that it didn’t matter. But I was wrong. So wrong.”

Her fingers twitched against her thighs, her entire body trembling as she spoke. “I’ve learned… that submission isn’t automatic. It’s not something I can take for granted or expect without effort. It’s something I have to give—fully, every day. And I failed to do that, Sir. I failed to value you, to trust you, and to honor what this collar represents.”

Her voice broke, a sob catching in her throat. “I thought I could handle its absence. That it wouldn’t affect me. But it does, Sir. It does more than I ever imagined. Without it… without you, I feel so lost.”

Her head dipped lower, tears spilling over as her breath hitched audibly. “Please, Sir,” she whispered, desperation threading through every syllable. “I don’t deserve it yet, but I want to. I want to earn it back. I’ll do anything. Just… just let me prove myself.”

“Words are easy, Hyunjin,” you said, your tone calm but unyielding. “They don’t mean as much as action.”

Her breath hitched, and she quickly looked up, her wide eyes searching your face for any hint of mercy. “Please, Sir,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I’ll show you. I’ll prove it. Just… please, let me earn it back.”

“You’ve been working hard,” you acknowledged, stepping closer, the collar still in your hands. “But hard work isn’t enough. What makes you think you deserve this again?”

Her lips parted, trembling as she struggled to find the words. “Because I—I know what I lost,” she said finally, her voice trembling. “I know what it means now, Sir. I’ll do anything to earn it back. Please, don’t keep it from me.”

You took another step forward, looming over her. The weight of your presence made her lower her head again, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. “Anything?” you asked, your tone steady but sharp. “Because this collar isn’t just about obedience. It’s about trust. Commitment. Do you even understand what those mean?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said quickly, her voice rising in desperation. “I understand now, I swear. I didn’t before, but I do now. Please… let me prove it to you.”

Her hands twitched against her thighs, instinctively wanting to reach for you but staying frozen in place. The room fell silent again, the tension thick as her pleas hung in the air. You stayed quiet, letting her squirm under the weight of your gaze. Her breathing grew more frantic, her fingers curling into fists as her composure began to crack.

“Sir,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m begging you. Please… I need it.”

You crouched in front of her, the collar dangling from your fingers. Her eyes locked onto it instantly, her breath catching as if the air had been knocked from her lungs. But you didn’t move to put it on her. Instead, you leaned closer, your voice a low murmur. “Needing it isn’t enough. You’ll have to earn it, Hyunjin. Through action, not words. Can you do that?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, her voice trembling but resolute. “I’ll do anything. I’ll prove myself.”

“Then keep proving it,” you replied, your tone firm as you straightened again. Her body tensed, and for a moment, she thought you were going to walk away. The thought must have terrified her, because she moved without thinking, her hands clasping around your ankle.

“Please, Sir,” she begged again, her voice raw with emotion. “Please… I’m sorry for taking it for granted. I’ll never do it again, I swear. Just give me a chance.”

You watched her for another long moment, letting her desperation sink in. Finally, you knelt again, holding the collar at eye level. Her eyes widened, hope flickering across her face, but she stayed still, trembling as you leaned in.

“This collar is not just a decoration,” you said, your voice low but deliberate. “It is a gift. A privilege. And for it to stay on, you’ll need to show me that you understand that.”

Her breath hitched as you moved closer, the collar brushing against her neck. Slowly, with deliberate care, you fastened it around her throat. The soft click of the buckle echoed in the room, final and absolute, like a vow being made. Her chest rose sharply as the familiar weight settled back into place, grounding her once again.

Her fingers twitched again, instinctively wanting to reach for it, but she stopped herself. You tilted her chin up with a single finger, your gaze locking onto hers.

“To keep this collar,” you said, your tone soft but firm, “you will face tests. Challenges that show me you’re worthy of wearing it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly parted, and her wide eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Thank you, Sir. I won’t let you down. I promise.”

You let your hand linger on her chin for a moment longer before releasing her, your gaze steady as you straightened to your full height. Towering over her, your presence filled the space, commanding without a single word. She remained kneeling, her hands resting on her thighs, her posture perfect but trembling slightly as the weight of the moment settled over her.

“Good,” you said, your voice steady, firm. “Because this is your second chance. Don’t waste it.”

She swallowed hard, her breath shallow, her gaze flickering between your face and the collar now secure around her neck. The room seemed to hold its breath, the tension shifting into something heavier, warmer, charged with the quiet promise of something restored.

Slowly, you leaned down, your hand brushing her cheek as your lips met hers. The kiss began tentative, a gentle press of lips, testing the waters of the bond you were rebuilding. But it deepened quickly, fueled by the unspoken emotions of the past week. Her hands, still trembling, reached for your shoulders, clutching at you as though afraid you might pull away.

Your hand found the collar, your fingers curling around the leather as you tugged gently, pulling her closer. The sensation sent a visible shiver down her spine, her breath catching in her throat.

“You’ve missed this, haven’t you?” you murmured against her lips, your voice low and knowing.

“Yes,” she gasped, her voice trembling. “So much, Sir.”

A faint smile played across your lips as your grip on the collar tightened slightly, guiding her as the kiss deepened. The heat between you grew steadily, the air thick with the mingling scents of mint and her rising need. She pressed closer to you, her hands sliding down your chest, fingers clutching at your shirt as if anchoring herself in your presence. Each touch, each movement was an affirmation of the connection you had rebuilt, the trust slowly returning.

Her body leaned into yours instinctively, the energy between you palpable. You pulled back just enough to let her feel the tension lingering in the space between your bodies. Your hand, still curled around the collar, applied the slightest pressure, keeping her gaze locked on yours.

“Then show me ,” you said softly, your voice steady, deliberate.

Her breath hitched, her hands falling back to her thighs as she lowered her gaze slightly, the flush on her cheeks deepening. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her voice filled with reverence. The atmosphere between you was electric, charged with anticipation as she prepared to prove herself once more, piece by piece, rebuilding what had been fractured.

Hyunjin nodded, her body visibly tense with anticipation. Her fingers moved with care, unfastening the button on your pants and sliding the zipper down. The soft sound of fabric shifting against the leather chair seemed deafening in the silence. Her breath hitched as she tugged your pants and boxers down, her cheeks flushed as you were exposed to her fully.

Her wide eyes flickered upward, a mix of nervousness and need shining in them as she hesitated for a moment. You didn’t speak, letting her feel the weight of the moment, your hand moving to rest lightly on her head. That gentle guidance was all she needed to lean forward, her lips parting as she placed a soft, tentative kiss at the base of your length. Her warm breath brushed against you as she began, her tongue tracing a slow, deliberate path upward.

Her movements grew more confident as she worked, her lips wrapping around you, taking you deeper with each pass. The soft moans that escaped her vibrated against your skin, the sound sending a jolt of heat through your body. You threaded your fingers into her hair, your grip firm but not harsh, guiding her pace as she moved with increasing fervor.

“Good girl,” you murmured, your voice low and approving. She responded immediately, her pace quickening, her tongue and lips working in perfect harmony. But just as the tension in the room began to build, you tightened your grip in her hair, pulling her back sharply.

“Stop,” you said firmly.

Her lips slipped off you with an audible pop, her eyes snapping up to meet yours, wide and questioning. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, her hands still resting lightly on your thighs as she froze in place. The sight of her—lips glistening, cheeks flushed, her pupils blown wide with desire—sent a wave of satisfaction through you, but you held your expression steady.

“Look at it,” you commanded, your voice calm but unyielding. “Just look.”

She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to your length. Her hands twitched against your thighs, her lips parting slightly as she stared, her breathing ragged. The heat between you was palpable, thick in the air as the seconds stretched on.

“Sir,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“Not yet,” you replied, your tone firm. “You’ll wait until I say.”

Her fingers dug slightly into your thighs, her need evident in the way her body shifted, her legs pressing together subtly. The denial was working—her arousal was unmistakable, her lips trembling as she obeyed, her gaze fixed on you.

“Resume,” you said after a long moment, your hand loosening its grip on her hair.

She dove back eagerly, her mouth enveloping you with renewed fervor. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, her movements quicker, more precise. The warmth of her mouth, the slickness of her tongue, and the soft, muffled sounds she made sent sparks of pleasure through you.

Just as her pace became frantic, you tugged on her hair again, pulling her back abruptly. Her head tilted up, her lips red and swollen, her eyes glassy with desperation. A soft whimper escaped her as she looked at you, her need etched into every line of her face.

“Stop,” you said again, your voice sharp.

“Sir,” she whimpered, her voice breaking. “Please.”

You tilted your head slightly, observing her with quiet intensity. “Please, what?”

“Let me continue,” she begged, her voice trembling. “I need to, Sir. I need to.”

Your lips curled into a faint smile as you leaned forward slightly, your thumb brushing over her swollen lower lip. “You’ll wait,” you said, your tone commanding. “Until I’m ready.”

Her body visibly trembled, her arousal spilling over into every movement. Her thighs pressed together tighter, her hands clutching at the fabric of your pants as if anchoring herself. She was desperate, her need growing with every second you held her back.

Finally, you tugged her closer pulling her head down slightly. “Resume,” you said, your voice low and rough.

She whimpered softly, the sound drenched in need, her lips parting as she immediately obeyed. Her mouth found you again, her movements feverish, as if every second away had only amplified her desperation. Her tongue glided along your length with reverence, each flick and swirl precise, her lips sealing around you as her moans vibrated against your skin. Her soft, muffled sounds filled the room, fueling the intensity of the moment. Her submission was complete, every movement a display of her devotion and longing to please.

The tension inside you built higher with every stroke, every delicate movement of her lips, her frantic need feeding your own growing pleasure. Her breath came in quick huffs through her nose as she worked, her hands lightly gripping your thighs for stability. She was utterly lost in the moment, her entire focus on serving you, and it was intoxicating.

With a firm tug on the collar, you pulled her head back once more, her lips slipping off you with a soft, breathy whine of frustration. Her wide, pleading eyes locked onto yours, her need written plainly on her flushed face. Her breaths came in shallow, desperate gasps, her chest rising and falling as she tried to steady herself.

"Strip," you ordered, your voice steady and commanding.

Her trembling hands immediately moved to obey, her fingers fumbling slightly in her haste as she shed her clothes. The fabric slid from her body, pooling on the floor as she stood before you, bare and vulnerable. Her skin glowed in the flickering candlelight, every curve and line of her body laid out for your gaze. She shivered, a mix of anticipation and arousal coursing through her, but she didn’t waver, her eyes cast downward in submission.

“Now, get on the bed,” you said, your tone leaving no room for hesitation. “On all fours.”

She scrambled to comply, her movements quick but deliberate, the urgency in her actions undeniable. The mattress dipped slightly beneath her as she positioned herself, her knees sinking into the plush surface. Her back arched instinctively, her head bowing submissively, her hands gripping the sheets tightly as if anchoring herself. Her breath hitched audibly as you stepped behind her, the leash in your hand taut, its tension a constant reminder of your control.

Reaching for the leash attachment on the bedside table, you let the quiet sound of metal against wood fill the room. Her body tensed at the faint clink, her breath catching as she froze in place, her anticipation palpable. The polished attachment glinted in the candlelight as you clicked it into place on her collar, the sound sharp and commanding. A tremor ran through her as the leash went taut, and you gave it a testing tug, pulling her head back slightly.

“You’ve done well,” you murmured, your free hand trailing over the curve of her spine, feeling the way her body shivered beneath your touch. “But I’m not done testing you yet.”

Her whimper was soft, her voice barely audible over the quiet tension in the room. Her hips shifted instinctively, pressing back slightly, seeking more of your touch as though her body had a will of its own. The leash in your hand grew taut as you pulled her back, her movement halted with deliberate precision. A shiver ran through her, and the small sound that escaped her lips was almost a plea, fragile and raw.

You smirked at her eagerness, letting your hand slide to her hips, gripping them firmly to keep her still. “Desperate already?” you murmured, your tone edged with amusement. The heat of your palm against her skin only heightened the tension, her trembling body betraying the effort it took to remain obedient.

Slowly, you teased her, letting the tip of you brush against her entrance, the barest touch enough to make her tense and gasp. Her thighs quivered, her breath catching audibly as her body trembled with restrained anticipation. Her need was palpable, her entire form aching for more, yet she remained frozen, holding herself steady with a visible effort that only deepened your satisfaction.

“Patience,” you said sharply, your voice slicing through her whimper. The leash tightened slightly, a reminder of your control. “You’ll take what I give you. Nothing more.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her voice shaky yet obedient, her words punctuated by shallow, unsteady breaths.

You pressed forward just enough to enter her, your movements slow and deliberate, the sensation electric as her body responded instantly. Her muscles clenched tightly around you, a soft, broken cry escaping her lips as her fingers curled into the sheets. Her need was overwhelming, radiating from her trembling frame, yet she didn’t move, her submission absolute even as her desire consumed her.

“Don’t move,” you commanded, your tone low but firm.

“Yes, Sir,” she gasped, her voice filled with effort as she fought to remain still. Her fingers dug deeper into the sheets, her knuckles white as her body vibrated with barely restrained longing. Every breath was a struggle, her soft whimpers growing louder as you stayed motionless, letting the weight of the stillness press down on her.

But then, instinct betrayed her. Her hips shifted ever so slightly, seeking more of you, her desperation winning out for a fleeting moment. The rustle of the leash was sharp as you pulled it taut, her head jerking back as your hand came down sharply on her ass with a loud, resounding smack. She yelped, the sound a mix of pain and pleasure, her body jolting forward even as she froze in realization.

“What did I say?” you growled, your voice low and commanding, the leash a firm tether in your hand.

“Not to move,” she whimpered, her voice trembling with both need and apology.

“Then don’t,” you snapped, your tone sharp, leaving no room for argument.

“Yes, Sir,” she replied quickly, her words laced with desperation as she braced herself, her hands gripping the sheets tighter.

Leaning forward, you pressed in further, filling her slowly, deliberately, her sharp gasp echoing in the room as her body quivered around you. Her whimpers grew louder, her breaths shallow and uneven as her restraint began to unravel. The tension between you was palpable, the air charged with her aching desire and your unyielding control.

Again, she moved—a tiny, involuntary tilt of her hips, but it was enough. Without hesitation, you tugged the leash sharply, pulling her head back as your hand came down on her other cheek with another sharp smack. Her cry was louder this time, her body jolting beneath you as the sting radiated across her skin.

“You’ll wait until I allow it,” you said, your voice a growl. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her voice breaking, her body trembling as she tried to steady herself.

The leash tightened in your hand as you leaned over her, your lips brushing against her ear. “Good girl,” you murmured, the words low and deliberate, sending a shiver down her spine. “Now, let’s see if you can do better.”

You stayed still inside her, savoring the way her body clenched around you, her desperation growing with each passing second. Her soft, broken whimpers filled the room, every sound a testament to her struggle and her need. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the sheets, her entire body trembling with the effort to obey.

When she moved again—a subtle, instinctive tilt of her hips—you didn’t hesitate. The leash tightened sharply, pulling her head back as your hand came down once more with a sharp smack. The sound reverberated through the room, her cry echoing louder, her body jolting before falling still.

“Again?” you growled, your tone low and dangerous. “Have you not learned?”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she whimpered, her voice cracking, her words tumbling out quickly. “I’ll be good. I’ll be still.”

“Prove it,” you said sharply, your grip on the leash firm, holding her exactly where you wanted her. “Show me you deserve this.”

She nodded frantically, her breaths coming in soft, broken gasps as she fought to hold herself steady. Her body quivered beneath you, every inch of her radiating need, but she didn’t move again. The leash in your hand was a constant reminder of her submission, the tension pulling her further into the moment as her fingers gripped the sheets tightly, her knuckles white.

You pressed into her fully, slow and deliberate, filling her completely. Her sharp gasp echoed in the room, her body instinctively clenching around you as she felt the stretch of you inside her. But you didn’t move. You held her there, buried deep, the weight of the stillness pressing down on her.

“Do you want me to move?” you asked, your voice low, calm, and teasing.

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need. “Please.”

You stayed perfectly still as the tension built between you. Without warning, you twitched inside her, the subtle movement making her entire body jolt. A broken whimper spilled from her lips, her thighs trembling as she clenched around you again, her breath shaky.

“Is that what you wanted?” you asked, your tone almost mocking.

“More,” she whimpered, her voice cracking. “Please, Sir. Give me more.”

Another twitch. Her cry was louder this time, her back arching slightly as the sensation rippled through her. Her hands clutched at the sheets, her entire body quivering with desperation.

“Why should be so generous?” you murmured, your voice calm, almost curious. “Have you earned it?”

“I—I’ll earn it,” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a breathless rush. “Please, Sir, I’ll do anything. I’m sorry. Please.”

You leaned over her slightly, the leash in your hand taut as your free hand slid down her back, your touch soft, teasing. “Anything?” you asked, your lips brushing against her ear.

“Yes,” she gasped, her voice trembling. “Anything.”

Her body tensed as she waited, anticipation written in every trembling muscle. Then, you twitched again, the small, deliberate movement sending another jolt of sensation through her. Her cry was a mix of frustration and arousal, her thighs pressing together as she fought to stay still.

“Please,” she begged, her voice raw and desperate. “Please, Sir, I’ll be good. I won’t move. Just—please.”

Her desire was palpable, her submission complete as body trembled beneath you. You stayed still for a long moment, letting her desperation simmer, the leash pulling her head back slightly as a reminder of your control.

Finally, you pulled back all the way, the cool air brushing between you as her breath hitched, her body trembling with anticipation. Her hands gripped the sheets tighter, her entire form taut, waiting for your next move. Without warning, you thrust into her fully, your entire length filling her in one deliberate motion. A loud cry escaped her lips, raw and unrestrained, her body clenching tightly around you in response. But she stayed completely still, every muscle tense, holding herself in perfect submission despite the overwhelming sensation.

You stayed there, buried deep inside her, your hand trailing down her back in a slow, soothing motion. Her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, her entire body trembling with the effort to hold herself still. “Good girl,” you murmured, your voice low and warm, laced with pride. “You listened this time.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she whispered, her voice trembling but steady, filled with quiet gratitude. Her submission radiated from every inch of her body, her fingers gripping the sheets so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Slowly, you pulled back again, her breath catching as she braced herself. Then, without warning, you thrust into her a second time, your motion smooth and deliberate, your entire length filling her completely. Her cry was louder this time, her voice breaking as her body clenched around you again. But once more, she didn’t move. She held herself perfectly still, her submission unwavering, her breath shaky as she fought the overwhelming sensations.

The leash in your hand stayed taut, keeping her aligned with your control, her body bent to your will. You leaned forward slightly, your breath warm against the back of her neck as you murmured, “That’s what I wanted to see. You’re doing so well.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she gasped, her voice barely a whisper, trembling with relief and pride.

This time, you began to move, your pace slow and deliberate, the shift a clear and deliberate reward for her obedience. The relief in her voice was almost tangible, her muffled cries spilling out with each thrust, each sound a testament to the weight lifted from her desperation. Her body responded instinctively, perfectly aligned with your rhythm, the curve of her back arching as though offering herself entirely to you.

The leather leash in your hand stayed taut, a constant tether to her submission, its tension drawing her further into the moment. Each measured thrust pressed her hips forward, only for her to press back with a growing urgency, her movements eager yet restrained, still seeking your permission in every motion. The slick heat of her enveloped you completely, her body clinging with a fervent need that made the air between you crackle with intensity.

Her cries grew louder, each sound a mix of pleasure and surrender, her voice rising in raw emotion with every deliberate thrust. Your grip on the leash tightened, and you pulled her head back sharply, eliciting a sharp gasp from her lips. Her neck arched beautifully, her vulnerability on full display as she submitted to the pull of the leather.

In a fluid motion, you wrapped the supple leash around her head, positioning it snugly between her lips. The soft leather pressed firmly into her mouth, transforming her cries into muffled, broken sounds of pleasure and need. The gagged whimpers and desperate breaths filled the room, blending with the rhythmic sound of your movements. Her body trembled beneath you, every shudder and quiver a display of her surrender, her raw need laid bare.

"This," you murmured, your voice low and edged with a commanding roughness as you leaned in, your lips grazing the delicate curve of her ear. "This is who you truly are," you continued, your breath warm against her skin, each word sinking into her like a brand. "Your best self," you whispered, the possessiveness in your tone undeniable, each syllable deliberate, drawing her deeper into the moment. "Completely mine."

Her muffled response was unintelligible but filled with emotion, her entire body reacting to the weight of your claim. Her hands gripped the sheets with white-knuckled intensity, her nails scraping against the fabric as her body buckled beneath the steady, purposeful rhythm you set. The leather pressed into her lips, the tension in the leash anchoring her fully in the moment, as if nothing else in the world existed except your control and her submission.

Her cries reached a fever pitch as you slowed abruptly, pressing deep inside her and holding completely still. The sudden lack of motion made her freeze, her muffled whines of frustration breaking the quiet tension in the room. She clenched around you instinctively, her body desperate for the friction and release that had been so cruelly denied. Her desperation filled the air, thick and electric, as she quivered beneath you.

“You don’t get to cum until I give you permission,” you growled, your voice low and commanding. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whimpered, her voice shaky, her words muffled by the leash pressing against her lips. Her hands gripped the sheets tightly, her knuckles white as she fought to obey, every fiber of her being screaming for relief. Her body trembled violently, her thighs quivering as she remained perfectly still, holding herself together only through sheer willpower.

You began to move again, deliberately slow, each thrust measured and purposeful. Her muffled cries grew louder, her hips instinctively pressing back into you, desperate to match your rhythm, to take more of you. But each time her movements matched yours, you slowed again, the leash taut in your hand a constant reminder of her place.

"Patience," you said sharply, landing a firm slap on her ass. The sound echoed in the room, followed by a sharp gasp as she jolted slightly under your touch. Her body trembled, the sting blooming across her skin as a mix of pain and pleasure heightened her arousal.

You smirked at her reaction and spanked her again, your hand coming down with enough force to draw a muffled cry from her lips. Her muscles tightened around you, her body reacting instinctively as her breath hitched. “You take what I give you, nothing more, nothing less” you ordered, your voice a low growl. 

She nodded frantically, her breaths ragged as her body trembled with the effort to obey. Her submission sent a thrill through you, and you rewarded her with another deliberate spank, your palm landing squarely on her other cheek. Her cry was louder this time, her body jolting forward as the sensation spread through her.

“Good girl,” you murmured, your tone approving but firm. “I can feel how much you want it. Is this all it takes to make you fall apart?”

Her muffled cries grew more frantic as you thrust into her again, slow but deep, her body tensing with every motion. The deliberate pace was maddening, designed to keep her on edge without letting her tip over. You spanked her once more, the sound of the impact followed by a sharp whimper that was pure need.

Then, leaning over her, you tugged the leash tighter, tilting her head back. Your breath was warm against her ear as you growled, “Where do you deserve my cum?”

Her muffled response was immediate, frantic. “Inside, Sir,” she gasped, her voice trembling as her hips instinctively pressed back against you. “Please, Sir, inside. Fill me.”

You smirked, leaning closer, your voice low and teasing as you asked, “Do you think you’ve earned that?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whimpered, her voice cracking with desperation. “I’ll be good—I’ll do anything. Please, Sir, I need it.”

You spanked her again, the sharp smack drawing a broken cry from her lips. Her body jolted, her thighs trembling as she clenched tightly around you. “Then beg for it,” you commanded, your voice thick with authority.

“Please, Sir,” she sobbed, her voice trembling with emotion as she broke completely. “Please let me have it. I’ll do anything—I’m yours. Please let me feel it.”

Tightening your grip on the leash, you thrust into her slowly, deeply, savoring the way her body trembled beneath you. “Good girl,” you murmured, your voice a low rumble against her ear. “You’ve earned it.”

Your pace quickened, each thrust deliberate and deep as the tension between you reached its peak. Her muffled cries turned to sobs of relief and pleasure, her body responding instinctively as she gave herself over completely. The connection between you was electric, her submission feeding your control as the leash stayed taut in your hand, keeping her exactly where you wanted her.

Leaning closer, your voice dropping to a low growl. “Who do you belong to?” you demanded, the authority in your tone leaving no room for hesitation.

“You, Sir,” she gasped, her voice trembling but resolute, her entire body arching under your control.

You thrust harder, making her cry out as you repeated, “Say it again.”

“You, Sir! Only you!” she sobbed, her voice raw with submission as her body shuddered.

"Good," you murmured, your voice thick with satisfaction as you leaned in closer, tightening your grip on the leash-turned-gag. The leather pressed snugly between her lips, muffling her cries as her body quivered beneath you. "Never forget it."

You didn’t give her time to respond. Your hips began to move with unrelenting purpose, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. The room was filled with the rhythmic sound of your movements and her muffled cries, raw and desperate, vibrating through the leather gag. Her body arched beneath you, trembling with the effort to hold herself steady, her fingers clutching the sheets so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Her thighs quivered as she clenched around you, her body reacting instinctively to your relentless pace. Each sharp motion drew another muffled moan from her lips, her cries growing higher, more frantic, as her body teetered closer to the edge. The leash stayed taut in your hand, pulling her head back just enough to keep her perfectly aligned to your will.

Her entire form shook beneath you, her body taut with tension as the heat between you built to a fever pitch. Her muffled sounds became a pleading melody, her desperation spilling out with every motion as her submission deepened. You could feel the way she clenched tighter, her body begging for permission even without words, every inch of her crying out for release.

You pulled the leash back, the leather taut between your fingers, leaning into her ear as your voice dropped to a sharp, commanding growl. “Now. Cum for me.”

Her release was immediate, her body convulsing beneath you as a muffled scream tore from her lips, raw and unrestrained. Her walls clenched tightly around you, the intensity of her climax gripping you like a vice, pulling a guttural groan from your throat. Her limbs shook uncontrollably, her strength failing as her muscles gave out. Her body became weightless against the collar, her submission leaving her completely at your mercy.

The leash in your hand became a lifeline, pulling her back as her head tilted, her breath hitching in sobbing gasps. Each wave of her release rolled through her, leaving her trembling and arching into you, her body unable to do anything but feel. Her fingers clawed weakly at the sheets before falling away entirely, her arms limp, her legs shaking so violently they could no longer support her weight.

You didn’t let up, your thrusts deep and deliberate, each motion designed to draw every ounce of her climax from her quivering body. Her walls pulsed around you, the sensation almost too much as she squeezed tighter with every tremor, her body desperately holding onto you. The heat of her, the way her back arched instinctively, and the desperate, muffled cries that spilled from her lips pushed you closer to the edge.

“That’s it,” you growled, your voice low and rough, satisfaction lacing every word as her sobs softened, her trembling body still clenched tightly around you. Leaning over her, your breath brushed her ear, sending a shiver through her overstimulated form. “Take it all.”

Her submission fueled your own release, the way she surrendered entirely to the moment, her body collapsing beneath you. You thrust into her one final time, burying yourself as deep as possible as the pleasure surged through you, your groan low and primal as your release hit. The sensation of filling her completely, the warmth of it spreading between you, sent another shockwave through her. Her body tensed again, her climax reigniting in perfect rhythm with yours, her walls tightening and pulsing as if to draw every drop from you.

Her muffled cries broke into breathless sobs, her body trembling violently as the overwhelming sensation left her utterly undone. The collar pressed firmly against her neck, grounding her even as her limbs refused to obey her, her submission total. Each pulse of your release seemed to extend her own, the shared intensity forging a connection so powerful it felt as though the air around you crackled with it.

As the last tremors of your climax subsided, you stayed buried inside her, the weight of your body pressing her into the mattress. The leash remained taut in your hand, a steady reminder of her surrender, the collar snug against her flushed skin. Her body slowly relaxed, her trembling subsiding into soft, uneven breaths, her whimpers barely audible as her submission became absolute.

You leaned down, your lips brushing softly against the back of her neck, your breath warm and soothing as it ghosted over her flushed skin. “Good girl,” you murmured, your voice low and filled with satisfaction. “You took it so well.” The heat between you lingered, a tangible reminder of the bond you had just reaffirmed, the connection pulsing in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Her voice was a trembling whisper, filled with gratitude and exhaustion. “Thank you, Sir.”

You loosened your grip on the leash slightly, one hand sliding soothingly along her back as her breathing steadied. The quiet weight of the shared moment settled over both of you, a tangible understanding of control, devotion, and the bond that held you together. Her body relaxed beneath you, pliant and trusting, the tension of the night ebbing away.

As you moved to release the binding and settle beside her, she surprised you. Slowly, shakily, she pushed herself up, her limbs trembling with effort, and turned to face you. Her knees met the floor, her movements reverent despite her exhaustion. She knelt there, her gaze steady but soft, shining with unspoken emotion as she clasped her hands lightly in front of her.

“Thank you, Sir,” she said, her voice wavering but firm, her head bowing slightly in deference. “Thank you for giving me another chance. I promise I’ll never take it for granted again.”

The sincerity in her tone struck something deep within you, her submission layered with gratitude and determination. You reached out, cupping her face gently in your hand, tilting her chin so her eyes met yours. For a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you, the depth of her devotion reflected back in her gaze.

“I believe you,” you said softly, your thumb brushing over her cheek as her eyes glistened with unspoken emotion. “And I’ll hold you to that promise.”

The connection between you was palpable, the quiet intimacy of the moment settling like a balm over the intensity of everything that had come before. As she knelt there, a renewed sense of trust and devotion radiating from her, you felt the unbreakable bond between you solidify once more.

You reached down, your fingers brushing lightly against her chin as you guided her off her knees. Her body moved with a hesitant grace, her legs trembling slightly from the intensity of the moment. She followed your lead without question, her wide eyes flicking up to meet yours, silently searching for reassurance as you helped her onto the bed. The mattress dipped beneath her weight as she settled, her hands clutching the sheets tightly, knuckles whitening as though anchoring herself.

When you reached toward the collar around her neck, her breath hitched audibly, her entire body going rigid beneath your touch. “Sir…” she whispered, her voice trembling with uncertainty. “Please… don’t take it off. I’ll do better, I promise.”

Her plea was laced with desperation, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths as her gaze darted between your hands and your face, searching for any hint of mercy. A small, involuntary shiver ran through her, and her fingers twitched against the sheets, her need to hold onto the collar palpable.

You paused deliberately, your hand still resting against the cool leather. Leaning closer, you met her panicked gaze, your voice calm but firm, the tone leaving no room for argument. “This isn’t punishment,” you said, your breath warm as it ghosted over her cheek. “You’ve earned it back, but I need to take care of you first.”

The words hung in the air, steady and unyielding, and her resolve cracked just slightly. She nodded, swallowing hard, the submission in her posture softening into trust as she tilted her head, baring her neck for you. Even as she complied, her lips parted as though she wanted to speak again, but no words came. Her breathing quickened as the soft click of the buckle echoed in the room, impossibly loud against the quiet backdrop. You slipped the collar off carefully, her skin faintly red where the leather had rested. The collar felt heavier in your hand than usual as you set it on the bedside table, its presence a silent promise.

Her gaze followed the collar until it was out of sight, her trembling form still taut with unspoken emotion. Before she could voice any of it, you leaned in, your lips brushing against the now-bare skin of her neck. The first kiss was featherlight, your breath warm and soothing against her flushed skin, a deliberate reassurance. Her body shivered beneath you, a soft, involuntary sound escaping her lips as you began to trail kisses along the delicate curve of her neck.

Each kiss was purposeful, slow and deliberate, leaving a path of heat in their wake. You felt her breath catch, the tension in her shoulders melting under the tender press of your lips. When you reached the sensitive spot beneath her ear, you lingered, your teeth grazing her skin gently before sucking just enough to leave a faint mark. Her gasp was sharp, her hands tightening their grip on the sheets as a visible shudder ran through her.

“These,” you murmured against her skin, your voice low and possessive, “will be your substitute until tomorrow. A reminder of who you belong to.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling with emotion. Her body sank deeper into the bed as you continued, your mouth leaving faint marks that dotted her neck like a constellation of your claim. Each kiss was deliberate, your teeth grazing her skin just enough to send another wave of sensation coursing through her. By the time you finished, her breaths were shallow, her body completely relaxed, her submission absolute.

Satisfied, you reached for the lotion on the bedside table, the faint scent of vanilla filling the air as you warmed it between your palms. “Lift your chin,” you instructed gently, your tone soft but commanding. She obeyed instantly, her head tilting back to expose the expanse of her neck, her trust in you evident in the way she remained perfectly still.

The cool lotion met her heated skin, and she shivered under your touch, the contrast heightening her awareness of the care you were giving her. Your fingers moved slowly, deliberately, smoothing the lotion over the faint redness left by the collar. Each stroke was tender, soothing, a tactile affirmation of her worth and your devotion.

When you finished, you leaned in one last time, pressing a soft kiss to the base of her neck. “Tomorrow,” you promised, your voice steady, carrying the weight of your conviction. “You’ll wear it again.”

Her voice broke slightly as she whispered, “Thank you, Sir.”

You stayed close, your hands resting lightly on her shoulders as her breathing steadied. The room settled into a quiet hum of intimacy, the bond between you unspoken but profound. The collar rested nearby, waiting for its return, but the marks you left on her skin and the care you had shown were enough to remind her of everything she had earned.

[dark-and-kawaii]

Lovely Little Thing

Summary: You moaned as Sukuna’s cum pumped into your depths, the tip of his cock planted firmly against your cervix, not allowing a single drop to escape your rapidly swelling womb.

With one final thrust you slammed your hips down on Sukuna’s ridged fat cock, driving his cockhead against your cervix, “s’kuna~♡ mn’youre sho’ deep~ c-can feel you in m-my womb~♡” you mewled.

Sukuna just laid there on his back, two arms folded under his head, the other two holding your hips with a bruising grip. His head was tilted back slightly, but his eyes gazed up at you through hooded eyes. The king of curses gave a slight chuckle, a smug smirk pulling at his lips, “And how is this my fault, little lamb?”

Your cheeks flushed the prettiest of pink as your much smaller body continued riding him like a bitch in heat, your tits bouncing, jiggling, with each rise and fall of your hips. His massive, muscular body spread out under you, sweat glistening and muscles taut… he was the perfect picture of strength and power, and he was all yours.

“S’kuna~ bully my tummy~ mn’make me all mushy n’messy ♡“ you whined.

A large hand found its way to your tummy and pressed down, a lewd moan falling from your parted lips… you could feel his cock so perfectly against his hand, it was making you all dizzy.

Sukuna chuckled again, his thumb rubbing the small bulge his cock created, “Such a needy thing, so cute and pathetic, my little lamb, what am I to do with you hm? You want me to wreck you? Then let me see those delicious tears and fucked out smile.”

His grin was sharp, eyes wild… He wanted to break you, to make a blabbering mess of you until you were nothing more than his perfect little cocksleeve.

Keeping his hand pressed to your belly, feet firmly planted on the bed, Sukuna started snapping his hips up, his cock slamming into your cervix repeatedly, bullying that forbidden area until you were a sobbing mess on his lap.

Your eyes tear filled with pleasure, a dumb, fucked out smile on your face, your tongue lolled out, drool dribbling down your chin, “Ah-h-aah~♡ f-feels s-sogooood ♡♡ S-so big in m-me, f-feels like y-youre makin my t-tummy all swirlyyy ♡♡♡”

Sukuna’s thrusts didn't slow, in fact they got harder, his hips now a blur as his cock drove itself home with each snap of his hips. Your thighs trembled and shook, a tight heat coiling in your tummy, you could feel it, you were gonna cum, gonna cum from having the King of curses use you like a toy.

Your back arched, your eyes widened, your screams went silent, and your body spasmed uncontrollably. It felt as if only you and Sukuna existed in this world, your senses focusing on a white hot singularity of endless pleasure in your womb.

You nearly went limp, left weak by the intense climax, your muscles still spasming around the monster seated deep inside you.

Rope after rope of thick, white hot vitality deep into your spasming cunt, pumping straight into your womb. You moaned as Sukuna’s cum pumped into your depths, the tip of his cock planted firmly against your cervix, not allowing a single drop to escape your rapidly swelling womb.

When his last of his milky seed spilled into your needle little body, a warm, pleasant afterglow settled over his body. Opening his eyes, Sukuna saw that your once normal sized stomach was just perfectly bloated... Your overstuffed womb making you look as is you were already carrying his child.

With your body a wreck, you slumped forward resting on Sukuna's chest, your bloated tummy pressed against the warmth of his body lulling you to sleep, “S’k- s’kuna~luv you…” you slurred out.

Sukuna was caught off guard, he wasn't expecting such soft words, yet here you were, a soft smile on your pretty lips, telling him how much you loved him…

Raking his fingers through your hair, he gave a soft hum, a rare moment of tenderness, “Rest.”

The warmth and comfort of his muscular arms were like a castle made of skulls and bones, a comfort only you knew.

He looked down at your sleeping form, and a soft smirk pulled at his lips, “Love…” his eyes narrowed, “Such a human emotion,” his hand cupped your bloated belly, giving a slight push, drawing a sleepy moan from you, before settling his hand on the curve of your hip… it was such a pitiful emotion, but… it was one he may be willing to accept for you, his sweet little lamb.

[caitified]

Do a fic for when Kate discovered that her wife was pregnant and how she told everyone of the team, you could also talk about how was the pregnancy

positive

kate martin x reader

warnings: ivf and pregnancy! going back in time a bit for those who have read my other kate family stories.

kate’s hands trembled slightly as she held the test in front of her, her wide eyes darting between the little screen and your face. you couldn’t quite tell if the tears forming in her eyes were from joy, shock, or a mixture of both.

you had been waiting for her to get home from practice all day, your nerves building with each passing hour. the positive test had been sitting in your pocket, burning a hole through the fabric as you tried to focus on anything other than the massive news you were about to share.

kate had barely walked through the door when you blurted, “i need to tell you something.”

her forehead creased in concern as she kicked off her sneakers. “what’s wrong? are you okay?”

you shook your head quickly, stepping closer and pulling the test out of your pocket. “no, nothing’s wrong. actually, everything’s perfect.”

her eyes darted down to the object in your hand, and for a moment, she froze. “is that…?”

you nodded, unable to hold back the tears that welled in your eyes. “kate, we did it. i’m pregnant.”

kate’s jaw dropped, her bag slipping from her shoulder to the floor. “oh my god,” she whispered, reaching out to take the test from you, her fingers brushing yours.

“it’s real,” you murmured, your voice shaky but full of awe.

kate let out a breathless laugh, staring at the test as though it were the most precious thing in the world. then she dropped it onto the counter and pulled you into her arms, holding you as tightly as she could. she buried her face in the crook of your neck, her body shaking with a mixture of laughter and tears.

“we’re having a baby,” she mumbled, her voice muffled against your skin.

you felt tears prick at your own eyes as you clung to her. “we’re having a baby.”

it had been months of waiting, hoping, and holding your breath, and now it was real. you were pregnant with your daughter, a miracle born from countless doctor’s appointments, late-night conversations, and unwavering support from kate every step of the way.

kate finally pulled back to look at you, her face lit with a smile so bright it made your heart ache. “you’re incredible,” she said, cupping your face in her hands. “i don’t even know how to put into words how much i love you.”

“you don’t have to,” you replied, leaning into her touch. “just love our little girl as much as you love me.”

kate laughed, brushing her thumb over your cheek. “she’s already got my whole heart, just like her mom.”

you both stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other and the overwhelming joy of what was to come. when kate finally pulled you toward the couch, settling in with you wrapped in her arms, she tilted her head thoughtfully.

“we have to tell the team,” she said, with you curled up against her.

you groaned, hiding your face in her shoulder. “do we have to tell everyone? you know they’re never going to let us hear the end of it.”

kate chuckled, stroking your hair. “babe, they’re going to be so excited. plus, it’s going to get out eventually, and i’d rather they hear it from us than from some random gossip site.”

you sighed, knowing she was right. “fine. but you’re doing most of the talking.”

“deal,” kate agreed with a grin.

🫂🫂🫂

the next day, kate gathered her las vegas aces teammates at the team facility, promising there was “big news” to share. the group was buzzing with curiosity, and you could feel your nerves mounting as everyone settled in.

“alright, everyone,” kate started, standing at the front of the room with her arm around you. “we’ve got something pretty exciting to share.”

a’ja was the first to pipe up, her grin mischievous. “you two finally getting a dog?”

“better,” kate replied, her smile widening as she glanced at you.

the room went quiet, everyone hanging on her next words. kate took your hand, squeezing it gently.

“we’re having a baby.”

for a moment, the room was completely silent. then, chaos erupted.

cheers, squeals, and excited chatter filled the air as the team surged forward, wrapping the two of you in hugs and bombarding you with questions.

“when did you find out?” “how far along are you?” “oh my god, is it a boy or a girl?”

kate fielded the questions with ease, her hand never leaving yours as she proudly shared the news.

“it’s a girl,” she said, her voice full of pride. “our little girl.”

the team melted at that, and a’ja immediately started brainstorming baby names while kelsey demanded that she would be the cool aunt.

amidst all the excitement, you caught kate’s eye, and she gave you a look that said everything she didn’t need to say out loud.

thanks for reading! requests are open and feel free to give me ideas for their family.

[strnilolover]

Vampire!Matt isn’t afraid of a little blood …

This writing below the cut will contain the action of eating someone out while they’re on their period. If this idea disturbs you or is not your preferred writing then do not read or read at your own risk.

You were curled up on the bed, wrapped tightly in a thick blanket as if it could shield you from the world. Your legs were drawn to your chest, your fingers clutching the fabric in a death grip. Across from you, Matt sat perched on the edge of the bed, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

It was that stillness that unnerved you now. His gaze was unrelenting, burning with something you couldn’t quite name. Love, yes, but also something deeper — something primal and hungry that made your breath catch in your throat.

“You don’t have to stay,” you finally murmured, breaking the silence. Your voice was soft, almost lost beneath the sound of the storm outside, but you knew he heard you. He always did.

Matt tilted his head slightly, the corner of his lips quirking into a familiar smirk. It wasn’t mocking, but it held a knowing edge, as if he already anticipated every excuse you were about to give him.

“And why would I leave?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, one that left no room for argument.

You dropped your gaze, your cheeks flushing as you pulled the blanket tighter around yourself. “Because I’m not…feeling like myself tonight,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His smirk softened, though the intensity in his eyes didn’t waver. “Go on,” he urged, his tone coaxing.

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “I’m bloated, crampy, and just…gross,” you confessed, your voice shaking slightly. “And on top of that, I’m on my period, so I—”

“Ah,” he interrupted, leaning forward slightly. The candlelight caught the sharp angles of his face, highlighting his cheekbones and the faint curve of his lips. “And you think that’s a reason for me to walk away?”

Your cheeks burned hotter. “It’s messy,” you mumbled, unable to meet his eyes. “And I don’t feel attractive, Matt. I feel the opposite.”

Matt was silent for a long moment, but you felt his presence — his energy — surrounding you. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft but firm.

“Messy?” he repeated, his tone almost incredulous. He shifted closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. His cool touch sent a shiver through you, and his fingers lingered on your cheek, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “Sweetheart, there’s nothing about you that’s gross or unattractive.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest as you searched his face for any hint of insincerity. But there was none — only unwavering conviction in the way he looked at you, as though you were the most precious thing in the world.

“I’m a vampire,” he continued, his lips curving into a faint smile. “You think blood is going to scare me away? If anything…” His voice dropped lower, rougher. “It makes me want you more.”

Your breath hitched at the raw honesty in his tone, the heat in his gaze leaving you momentarily speechless.

“Matt,” you whispered, unsure whether it was a plea for him to stop or to keep going.

“Do you trust me?” he asked softly, his voice grounding and steady, cutting through your hesitation like a knife through fog.

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation, the word leaving your lips before you even realized you’d spoken.

“Then let me take care of you,” he murmured, leaning in closer until his cool breath ghosted over your lips.

Before you could respond, his mouth was on yours. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and consuming. His lips, cool and smooth, moved against yours with practiced ease, coaxing you to relax. His hand slid from your cheek to your neck, his thumb brushing over the sensitive skin just below your ear.

The kiss deepened, his tongue slipping past your lips to tangle with yours. It was intoxicating, and you found yourself leaning into him, your fingers tangling in the soft strands of his dark hair.

When he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes burned with an intensity that made your pulse race. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice rough and possessive. “Every part of you.”

His hands slid down to the edge of your blanket, his fingers curling into the fabric. “Can I?” he asked, his voice soft but filled with intention.

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding, your cheeks flushing as you let him pull the blanket away. The cool air kissed your exposed skin, and you shivered slightly, but it was nothing compared to the way Matt’s gaze roamed over you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, almost to himself, his voice thick with reverence. His hands found your thighs, his thumbs tracing slow, soothing circles along your skin as he knelt between your legs. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You squirmed under his intense gaze, your hands twitching as you fought the urge to cover yourself. “Matt, I—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, leaning down to press a kiss to your inner thigh. His lips were soft and cool, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “Let me show you.”

His hands slid down to the hem of your shorts, his fingers hooking into the waistband. He paused, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hesitation. When you gave a small nod, he tugged them down slowly, his movements deliberate as if savoring every second.

Then his lips were right back on you, working slowly, lips and tongue moving with deliberate care as he trailed kisses along your thighs. His hands gripped your hips gently but firmly, holding you in place as he worshipped every inch of you.

He moved his lips higher, placing kisses dangerously close to your aching pussy — you clenched around nothing, a mixture of arousal and blood seeping out of you. Matt’s eyes caught a glimpse of that, a smirk tugging at his lips as the sight of you and smell of you aroused him. Finally, his lips connected to your puffy clit.

And he didn’t hesitate, his tongue moving with precision as he worked you over with a devotion that left you trembling. The coolness of his touch contrasted sharply with the heat pooling in your core, the sensation overwhelming in the best way.

Your fingers reached down and tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as soft moans spilled from your lips. He growled softly against you, the sound vibrating through you and pulling another cry from your throat.

The worry of the mess and your nervous thoughts were completely disregarded, your mind slowly fogging with each swipe of his tongue and each suck to your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Matt,” you whimpered, your voice breathless and needy.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his lips stained crimson. “You taste divine,” he murmured, his voice low and rough before he delved back down, his tongue moving faster.

His hands moved down to grip your thighs tightly now, putting them over his shoulders and holding them wide open to get better access to your now sopping cunt. Your hands tugged his hair, earning another groan from his chest, the vibrations and the action of his nose bumping into your clit made you squeal.

Your head was thrown back against your pillow, your hips now grinding down against his face as the knot formed in your stomach. You desperately wanted to chase the release you now needed — and your actions made Matt speed up.

“I- o-oh fuck! Matt.. m-matt-“ you cried out, bucking your hips wildly against his face now. And he just smirked against your folds, his tongue continuing to move rapidly.

Your stomach was hot — and tight. The band threatening to snap at any moment. But with a few final nudges to your clit, you were gasping and shaking. “C-cum…cumming!” you squealed, thighs snapping shut around his head and your fingers pulled harshly at his locks.

Matt continued to move his tongue, slowing the movements as he collected every drop of your release. When you finally started to push at his head, shying your hips away — was when he pulled himself back. His face was coated with your release and blood.

Your cheeks flushed, your heart racing as he moved back up your body, his cool skin pressing against your warmth. He quickly cleaned his mouth before his lips found yours again, the faint metallic tang of your blood on his tongue only heightened the intimacy of the moment.

“Did so good pretty-” he muttered against your lips, praising you. He pulled away, resting his forehead against your own. “-never have to hide yourself or feel ashamed about this. Always love you — in every stage and form.” he said, and those words made you feel anything but flawed or imperfect.

You smiled sheepishly up at him. “Here — c’mon-“ he says, hand gently tapping the outside of your thigh. “-let’s get you into a warm bath okay? and then we can get your favorite food.”

© strnilolover

[abbyclypsie]

VOULEZ-VOUS! - 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐇 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍

WARNINGS: reader singer, a silly little thing made with love, english is not my first language!

It was a sunny morning in London, and Y/n and Leah Williamson's home was filled with an energy only a passionate singer could bring. Y/n, dressed in a sparkling outfit reminiscent of ABBA's iconic style, was bouncing around the room with a microphone in hand, belting out every note of "Voulez-Vous" with a passion that could ignite any stage.

"People everywhere, a sense of expectation hanging in the air!" Y/n sang, spinning in the middle of the room and dramatically pointing at Leah, who was sitting on the couch with her legs crossed, trying to read a book.

Leah, in her typical calm demeanor, sighed deeply and slowly closed her book. It was obvious her patience was wearing thin. She loved Y/n, but her love for ABBA was reaching its limit.

"Y/n..." Leah began in a calm but firm tone. "Yes, my love?" Y/n replied, still dancing as if she were at a live show. "Don't you think you've sung that song enough for today?"

Y/n stopped in the middle of a dramatic step, looking at Leah with eyes that sparkled with pure disbelief.

"Enough? Leah, it's Voulez-Vous! How can I stop when the spirit of the music lives within me?"

Leah rubbed her temples, trying to find the right words.

"Y/n, I love you and I support everything you do, but you've sung that song... like, ten times. Just today. I'm starting to dream about it." "That's great! It means you're feeling the magic of ABBA!"

Leah laughed humorlessly, throwing the book aside.

"No, it means I can't stand to hear 'Voulez-Vous' one more time. I was starting to like ABBA because of you, but now..."

Y/n put her hand on her heart, as if Leah had just stabbed a knife there.

"Are you saying I'm ruining ABBA for you? How is that possible? They're pure perfection, and I'm just spreading that perfection around the world!"

Leah stood up, walking over to Y/n, who was still holding the microphone like a weapon of defense.

"I don't want to ruin your passion, really. But... maybe you could sing something else? Anything else. Please."

Y/n narrowed her eyes, tilting her head dramatically.

"Are you suggesting I betray ABBA?" "No, I'm suggesting you give me a break. Just a break, Y/n. I need peace. I beg you."

Silence hung between the two for a moment, as S/n pondered. Finally, she lowered the microphone and sighed deeply.

"Alright, Leah. I won't sing ABBA... for now. But only because I love you."

Leah smiled, pulling Y/n into a tight hug.

"Thank you. And I love you too. Even when you're driving me crazy with Voulez-Vous."

Y/n laughed against Leah's shoulder but soon pulled away, raising an eyebrow with a mischievous smile.

"What if I sing Dancing Queen? It's softer." "Y/n!"

The two burst into laughter, with Leah shaking her head as Y/n took an exaggerated bow in the middle of the room. Despite their differences, that chaos was part of what made their relationship so unique. And Leah knew, deep down, that no matter how many times she heard ABBA, she could never stop loving Y/n... even if it was with earplugs.

[scoobydoodean]

Dean and Cas are very similar in that they both deal with significant self-worth issues, were treated as weapons for a lot of their lives and were raised like soldiers, and had their worth routinely tied to their ability to kill and defend their families. But their responses to making a mistake are so... very very different most of the time?

Cas fucks up and immediately begins looking for ways to prove himself again and get anyone he's let down to see that he cares about them and he can fix it. His belief that he can make things right is incredibly persistent and can even feel a little overbearing on occasion? Dean fucks up and despairs. He sees his mistakes as a death sentence—as something that completely condemns him. He makes a mistake and believes he can never atone and has no way of making it better. In the worst case, he thinks the best favor he could do the world around him is dying to rid the world of the stain of him. He's too accepting of being doomed by consequences. I think this makes Cas a really important foil for Dean and also probably lends to Dean's attraction to him.

Cas is the guy who tilts his head and says "You don't think you deserve to be saved?" Not just because he thinks Dean is a good person to the very core but because Cas believes you can fix anything, and as much as I think this difference creates conflict between the two of them on occasion, I also think that's an important and inspiring trait in a friend for someone with Dean's hangups.

[kr-starz]

Actually never gonna stop thinking about the cut out scene where Jinx and Ekko where they’re fucking painting on each other and then Ekko tells Jinx about the alt universe,

Like I genuinely can’t stop thinking about who marked who first, this was probably Jinx deciding that everything on that air ship needed some decoration, and that included her and Ekko.

Just imagining how Jinx probably marked Ekko first with her blue and Ekko retaliated, turning into a whole thing, just imagining the brush trailing down to her waist and she’s never been ticklish but it feels stupid to let someone get so close to her, but he’s so enamored with getting the strokes of paint right; he doesn’t look anything more than an artist fawning over the blank canvas he could create just about anything with.

Holy shit the fact Ekko’s wearing a crop 😞😞

The X’s on their chest were definitely them js marking their territory im so sorry, they really wanted to show people that they were together, either in a partner in crime, or friendship or romantic sense they wanted to show that they had the other in one way or another and I can just imagine the little details. Jinx smearing an X on Ekko’s chest, and he draws out a big X on her chest in return. They giggle, and the paint gets smudged. But that’s just all the more color.

I also can imagine just how the marking each other in the other’s colors would go, Ekko would talk about how even if she doesn’t think she is, she’s one of Ekko’s people now, which means he has to do everything to protect her; and they both kind if just settle into the fact that they’re something worth fighting for, their community and what the other stands for is worth fighting for. Ekko smears his signature green on her, and he says it’s to show that she’s just as much as his as he is her partner in this getaway.

Not to mention Ekko pierces his ears, after Ekko manages to slide in how he knew Jinx in another universe, a girl who was happy and content with what she had, she was beautiful and smart, and kind. And she wasn’t any more Powder, or Jinx than the girl in front of him right then an there.

And then the conversation shifts, after Jinx probably realizes that she’s capable of being kind, she had Isha, she knows how kind and caring she can be. He might mention how they were together in that universe, how so beautiful it was to simply love something. And Jinx probably grins, asking why in the world would she be with him. And he snickers, shaking his head not knowing why either, but he goes on to mention the little details like the way his ears are pierced, the way his hair was done differently, the way he was an inventor.

Jinx pops her head up, leaning in close and Ekko feels his breath leave his lungs. She says that he would look good with piercings. He tilts his head, asks if she’s just trying to flatter him. She’s not one to give compliments so she grins and tells him if she was trying to flatter him she’d already have him at that point. They both chuckle, and Jinx mentions how she could pierce his ears for him. Nervous, Ekko isn’t sure if that’s the safest option, yet he nods anyway.

He squirms like a little kid getting a shot, squeezing his eyes shut as he feels a pinch on his left, then another on his right, and before he knew it, there were pretty gems on both his ears. Jinx cheers, asking if he likes it, leaning on the back of the chair he’s sitting in, her grinning face peeking in through Ekko’s reflection and he feels himself smiling. He loves it.

[absolutebl]

GMMTV 2025 Line Up - My Totally Biased and Wildly Flawed Feels

This is the point where I remind you that GMMTV announced 16 BLs for 2024 and didn't actually release 4 of them in 2024: My Golden Blood, Ossan‘s Love, Sweet Tooth Good Dentist, and The Ex-Morning.

So despite the fact that these are from GMMTV 2025 line up, some of them will not happen until 2026, and some could get dropped entirely or have cast changes.

I'm not including the GLs, grab bags, or possible bromances. Confirmed full-tilt gay af only.

In order of ones I'm most excited about.

Dare You to Death

trailer

JoongDunk as police investigators in a mystery suspense thriller. Yes, I'm in. This is it. This it the one I wanted to instantly watch. Even though their's 20 BLs airing right now.

This is the only trailer I immediately rewatched.

Boys in Love

trailer

Our only true high school BL from GMMTV and it's fresh faces for the youths and old favs for the teachers. It's milk teeth Make it Right and that is perfectly fine with me! I like lotte milk. Also DIMPLES! Yay! I suspect they're using this one to test some new pairs for future seasons. Like a Project 101 Thai BL. (Honestly I just invented an amazing reality TV for you GMMTV, you're welcome.)

Like My School President was in 2023, this could be a major 2025 sleeper hit for me.

Memoir of Rati

trailer

Sing the praise song with me BLabies! GreatInn in a HISTORICAL with a class divide and everyone's favourite side couple! Be still my heart! I'm beyond pleased. (Also I got my boat in a lotus pond at last.) My only concern is this could end sad, it's in the title after all.

This is the only trailer that gave me chills.

My Magic Prophecy

trailer

Paranormal mystery with a fortune teller and a doctor. I'm in. I hope the script doesn't fail JimmySea again, they are such a great pair. I'm intrigued by this one but it felt the most formless of all the trailers, so I'm thinking we could see some significant tweaks.

Me and Thee

trailer

A photographer gets involved with the mafia? OMG is this a Thai dupe for Target the Finder? Only mixed with Cyrano? WILD. I mean to say, this one is wild WILD! Plus Est (my love) back in suits and ear dongles I see. Also GMMTV never gonna let us forget they bagged two of BL's best bods with PP, thanks all for the visuals.

Of course this is for me. I'm the shallowest, remember? Plus I love a BL that's just a little bit...... well...... stupid.

A Dog and A Plane

trailer

A prissy gay flight attendant in a push-pull relationship with an EMT dude-bro. Characters are a bit throwback to PeteKao (no bad thing) not to mention the looming shadow of What the Duck? (bad thing). But the side couple is the always appealing MarcPoon.

Okay GMMTV, surprise me, I'm game. And you know TayNew are my OG GMMTV pair du jour.

Cat for Cash

trailer

Finally something fluffy with a pair I like. Looks cute. I like cute. Yay for me! Adorable gay boys and cats.

This one is basically made to be a tumblr comfort meme meets thirst trap. I see what you're doing GMMTV and I applaud you. Carry on.

That Summer

trailer

The only side pair to seriously level up. Okay so amnesia is my least favourite trope, and I tend to not be wild about secret identity either, but I like both pairs in this one, so I'll watch.

My Romance Scammer

trailer

New couple! My boys Ohm and Fluke (no, not that Fluke, the one from My Ride). Honestly, Fluke has popped up as a side in a couple GMMTV shows I was wondering who they'd BL him with.

This could win. Prettiest human on earth paired with the world's most potent single dimple. Will I survive? I honestly don't know, because Ohm historically doesn't have much chemistry with anyone but the original Fluke so... Still I l do love JuniorMark and this as a really unique premise (gay Heartbreakers), so I'm game.

Head 2 Head

trailer

The Boo kids are back. I don't love this pair (I find their chemistry and acting awkward) or the main trope (E2L) but I do like the new sides and their trope (2nd chance is a fav of mine). So this one will depend on whether those are full side dishes or just crumbs.

Ticket To Heaven

trailer

GMMTV is doing Boy Foretold by Stars concept? Interesting, did not have religious boundary pushing and bildungsroman down on he Thai BL bingo card.

This isn't my thing but I think G4 are actually going to be amazing in it and I certainly look forward to them pushing their acting chops. Not to mention the discomfort something like this can cause in general/global viewership. I like it when BL makes people (who aren't me) uncomfortable.

Burnout Syndrome

trailer

GMMTV doing edgy is never a good thing IMHO, and in this one they're handling sex work. *shakes head* However, Not Me is the noted exception and this is that same pair with the same director. So I'm curious if not wild about the content.

That said, I'm delighted to see Gun with someone else (Dew is a stunning choice, thank you Casting) even if only for a love triangle moment. It's been a WHILE.

Melody of Secrets

trailer

Not wild about ForceBook, do like a mystery, don't like horror or psychological thrillers... not sure on this one.

I like BL pushing into new territory, even if it's not my territory, but this is defiantly not made for me, that's for damn sure.

And that's the end of my list.

"But wait," you cry. "P'ABL you're still missing some."

How Dare

Only Friends Dream On

trailer

Yeah, no fuckoff. I will not be watching this. I already marked it pink on the Spreadsheet of Doom. (Pink means CNF or an automatic no watch for me.)

But dude was it nice to see all those pairs busted. That's always a good time for me. Anyway, all you so-n-sos who gave the first one your eyeballs are to blame for this. Watch it n weep. Without me.

(Side note: I love it when a title reviews itself, Only Friends: Dream On, indeed. It's like media aptronym.)

and last and definately least......

Love You Teacher

trailer

no

no no

NO NO

NO!!!

I do like Perth & Santa (although I'm not sold on them as a pair). But words cannot describe how much I dislike this premise. SERIOUSLY? No thank you very much. I could, just maybe, hate watch Only Friends 2, but it's gonna be hard for me to even turn this on. Infantilization and people acting like children wigs me tf out. YKINMKBYKIOK of course, but not in my BL GMMTV. Stop it! (This one also got the dreaded pink of will not watch.)

More Disappointments

Thor didn't get the lead in anything. (Pouts in "but he so sexy.")

No major pairs were significantly busted.

Tonally it's gone darker than I expected. I prefer lighter fluffier BL so this tonal shift for GMMTV as a whole is not a win for me personally. Should be left to Japan IMHO.

That said, most of my favorite GMMTV pairs are in my top picks to watch as well, so I'm happy for that.

I'm Intrigued Despite Myself

My favorite trailer of all was actually Wu (red thread fated paranormals are my favoritest thing ever next to isekai) but that's not a branded pair so I'm not convinced it's BL. Hoping it is, but that happened in 2024 with these boys, so I'll leave it in the air for now.

I like that we're making push to leave uni and high school behind (don't worry, other Thai studios will fill the gap). I think GMMTV is doing this in order to

keep branded pairs together and

keep the actors of those pairs interested in the BL scripts.

As their major pairs age out of uni, GMMTV has to hand them more meaty and grown up stuff. I didn't think they would actually do this, so I'm pleased to see it happen. Even if it's all going darker than I like, at least it's different.

I don't really report on GL and I rarely have time to watch it these days. I thought the new MilkLove looked cute, but I'm still recovering from whatever happen in their last one. The Girl's Rules one looks like a light-weight L-Word. Still happy to see GMMTV move out of school for thier few GLs too.

(source)

[blackenedsnow]

ART X A SELF DOUBTING VAMPIRE READER PSLPLSPSLLS!! like they think they taste all rotten and nasty but art doesnt think sooo!

red as snow

WARNING: Self doubt

PAIRING: Art the Clown x Vampire! Reader

NOTE: Omg this is so fun to think about!! thanks for the ask <3 I ALWAYS love writing about vampires OHHHH MAN

SUMMARY: Art doesn’t mind what’s wrong with you. That’s the worst part, really. You can’t understand how someone so perfect in his brutality could ever want something so rotten.

The blood pools around your feet in lazy rivulets, stark and shining against the pale stretch of snow. It’s almost beautiful, in a grotesque sort of way – the kind of beauty you find in shattered glass or a body just before the life leaves it. Art would know what you mean.

He’s doing something behind you, a slow, lilting tune, soft as snowfall. He’s in his own little world, swaying slightly, his bloodied hands clasped behind his back. His clothes look filthy now, stained with deep red streaks.

You think he looks ridiculous. And perfect.

“Do you ever think,” you say quietly, your voice barely carrying over the winter hush, “that I might taste bad?”

Art stops. His head snaps toward you, and even though you know he doesn’t speak, you feel the weight of his question in the tilt of his head, the way his wide eyes narrow just slightly.

“You know,” you murmur, staring down at the corpse between you, “if someone tried to bite me. My blood’s probably awful. There’s something wrong with me.” you glance back at him, watching the way his grin widens like it’s some private joke only he gets. “You’d agree, wouldn’t you?”

You’re half-joking, but it still stings when he laughs – or whatever you’d call that silent, breathy wheeze of his. He’s doubled over, clutching his stomach like you’ve just told the funniest joke in the world.

“I’m serious,” you say, your voice sharper now, a little defensive. You fold your arms over your chest. “Why wouldn’t it be bad? I’m rotting from the inside out, Art. I can feel it. There’s no way it’d taste good.”

He straightens up, wiping at his face even though there’s no tears, no sign of any real laughter – just that grin of his, smeared with someone else’s blood. He takes a step closer, his boots crunching over the snow.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you mutter, turning away. “I mean it. It’s not romantic to drink from something dead.”

He’s behind you before you can finish the thought, his hands curling over your shoulders in a way that makes your skin crawl – and not because you don’t like it. You hate that you do. That you want him to hold you tighter, to crush you in that terrible grip of his.

“I mean, maybe it’s fitting,” you continue. “You’re a demon. I’m a vampire. We’re both monsters. But even monsters deserve something better than this, don’t you think?”

Art spins you around in one fluid movement, his hands dropping to your arms to hold you in place. You can feel the press of his fingers through your clothing, too strong, too insistent, but you don’t pull away. He’s tilting his head again, his grin growing impossibly wider, like he’s daring you to keep talking.

“You don’t believe me,” you say softly.

He shakes his head, slow and deliberate. Then, quick as a flash, his hand moves to his chest, dragging his fingers down like he’s unzipping it, miming something pulling at his heart.

You swallow hard. “You’re just saying that.”

He glares at you, his grin faltering for the first time. It’s subtle, just the faintest twitch at the corners of his mouth, but it’s enough to make your breath catch.

“Okay, okay,” you say quickly, raising your hands in surrender. “You love me. I get it. You don’t have to be so dramatic about it.”

He doesn’t let go. Instead, he leans in closer, his face inches from yours. You can smell the copper tang of blood on him, can see the splatters drying on his skin.

Maybe he doesn’t care what’s wrong with you, doesn’t care if your blood tastes like poison, if your body is too far gone to be anything worth having. He just loves you.

[elseishollow]

✶┈ GOOD GRIEF — FIYERO TIGELAAR

synopsis: fiyero seeks refuge from a rather dull event at Shiz, but you don’t find him charming, do you?

pairings: movie!fiyero tigelaar x gn!reader

warnings: nothing but fluff. relationship is… undefined? yeah, we’ll go with that. this is entirely going off the movie by the way. this was made on a whim and I had no idea where this was actually going, so be nice.

The room was alive with the sound of muffled chatter, the scrape of chairs on wood, and the faint clatter of cutlery. You stood at the far end of the hall, leaning against a tall window frame, fiddling idly with the stem of your glass. The evening sun painted the room in warm hues, but your peace was interrupted when you felt an unmistakable presence too close to your side.

“Ah, there you are,” Fiyero announced as if he’d been searching for hours, though he couldn’t have missed you. The room wasn’t that big. “I need your help. Immediate help. Dire circumstances.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Dire? What did you do this time?”

He stepped closer, his hands fluttering mid-air. “Absolutely nothing. Yet. Which is precisely the problem. I have no idea what they’re talking about at my table, but they keep looking at me as if I’m meant to contribute something… intellectual.”

You bit back a laugh, tucking it behind a smirk. “And you came to me because…?”

He tilted his head, feigning an innocent expression. “Because you’re clever. And you’ve got that look about you. People believe you when you talk.” His hand waved vaguely in the direction of your face, and his lips curled into a teasing grin. “You know, all… knowing and intimidating.”

You gave a dry laugh, shaking your head. “So, what? You want me to save you from the unbearable burden of conversation?”

“Exactly.” He stepped even closer, now entirely invading your space. He smelled faintly of warm spices and fresh air, like he’d been wandering outside before arriving. “Just say something about, I don’t know, books? Politics? Trees? I’ll nod along like I’ve had an epiphany, and they’ll think I’ve got layers.”

Your lips twitched. “You? Layers?”

“Rude.” He placed a hand dramatically over his heart, though his grin only widened. “I do have layers. You just need to dig. Maybe with a small shovel.”

You rolled your eyes, setting your glass down on the nearby table. “If I help you, will you stop hovering?”

“Am I hovering?” he asked, his voice drenched in mock confusion.

“Yes. Always.” You nudged him lightly in the chest with your hand, but he didn’t move back. Instead, he caught your wrist in his hand, a glint of mischief flickering in his eyes.

“See, that’s the problem with you,” he said, his thumb brushing against the inside of your wrist as if entirely unaware of the intimacy of the gesture. “You act all exasperated, but deep down, you like having me around. Admit it.”

“I will never admit that,” you shot back, yanking your wrist free, though your voice lacked conviction.

He laughed. a soft, rich sound that somehow made the world feel a little lighter. “That’s alright. I’ll stick around until you do.”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Fiyero, go back to your table before someone notices you’ve disappeared.”

“They probably think I’ve wandered off to study bark or something,” he said, shrugging. Then, leaning in, close enough that you could see the specks of gold in his eyes, he added, “Which, honestly, sounds far more interesting than this dinner.” His eyes flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes, a slight smile tugging at his mouth.

He was very close now, so close that you could feel the heat of him, his breath just barely brushing your skin. You weren’t sure if you wanted to look away or stay right where you are. And for a moment, you almost asked him what he meant. But before you could, he leaned back and straightened. Now fully smiling like knew exactly what he was doing and grabbed the glass you’d abandoned moments ago.

"Anyway," he said casually, “I’m stealing this,” raising it as if to toast you. “Because you’ve left me no choice.”

You blinked, lips parted slightly in disbelief and amusement, your hands unconsciously lifting as if to gesture at the entire situation.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, watching as he sauntered back to his table, moving through chairs with a lack of spatial awareness that made several people flinch and move their drinks out of harm’s way.

Just before he sat down, he turned and shot you a lopsided grin, raising your glass in a silent, triumphant toast.

And against your better judgment, you found yourself smiling back.

notes: i’ll try and go through my requests inbox as soon as I can!! thank u to those who left a few :)

[clare-875]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, and Law (separately) X Reader, and it's of them already in a relationship, and kind of based on the trend on TikTok, Reader calls them "Buddy, Pal, etc." to see their reaction?

New Names (Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Ace, Law)

_____ Pairings: Luffy x Reader; Sanji x Reader; Zoro x Reader; Ace x Reader; Law x Reader Summary: His reaction when you call him buddy, pal, etc. Warnings: Very little angst, mostly fluff, Female Reader A/N: I hope you like it! <3 [One Piece Masterlist] _____

- Luffy -

You faintly wonder if Luffy will even pick up on the difference in the name you call him, but after losing a bet with Ussop, you know you couldn't back out. You watch as said sniper discreetly looks at you encouragingly from a short distance away and you sigh, rolling your eyes. Why did you agree to this? When you turn your gaze once more, it is because your boyfriend is calling for you.

"Hey [y/n]!" He grins wide and you suddenly feel a slight tug in your heartstrings, hoping he either wouldn't notice or wouldn't be too hurt by this small prank. "Nami says we're good to go the island now! So let's go!" His eyes shine in his excitement for the prospect of new adventures and you give him a smile.

"Sure buddy, just give me a second."

You turn to reach for the small bag you had packed and try to play off your words as nothing major, but the sudden silence you hear makes you realise he must've noticed.

"Buddy?"

You turn around and you are met with Luffy looking at you blankly, a pout on his face as he tilts his head to the side. "That's what you call your friends, am I not your boyfriend anymore?" You see him utterly confused as his eyebrows pull together in objection. You try to stifle the smile that fights to make its way onto your face. He looks like he's in deep contemplation and trying to restrain his gloom.

"What do you mean, Luffy? I always call you that."

You shrug your shoulders as you walk by him, readying to leave the ship, but Luffy is quick on your heels, a frown deepening on his face. "No! You always call me baby, or Lu, or babe, or-" Luffy starts to list the reasons why you don't and shouldn't call him buddy, and he doesn't stop. You slowly start to feel yourself relent when his rambled words invade your ears. You observe the way his brain works hard to figure out what is going on, to the point where darkness looms over his head.

"Luffy," you say, finally cutting him off, lingering amusement in your tone. However, Luffy instantly pouts again, crossing his arms against his chest in denial. "No! Call me like you always do!" You sigh, seeing that his initial confusion has turned into dismay. "Okay, baby." Instantly, his features turn bright as you continue. "It was a prank, I didn't mean anything by it." Luffy stares blankly at you for a second, before a smile reaches his face, gaze churning in understanding.

"Oh! Why didn't you just say so!"

Luffy lets out a short laugh as he catches up to your side. Instantly his hand reaches for yours, and you let him envelop it. He grins wide at the contact. "You should really work on your pranks though [y/n]. Choose a funnier one next time!" You sigh at Luffys words and put a hand to your head; he truly was so simple and pure minded. Maybe he wouldn't understand the prank you just played on him fully, but you couldn't trade him for anything in the world.

- Sanji -

(A/N: This was kind of angsty for some reason?)

You knew going in, that this might end badly, but you didn't really register the depth of what would happen until you did. Nami had convinced you to play a small prank on your boyfriend, Sanji. "Come on [y/n], it'll be fun!" You faintly remember her murmured words and sigh as you find yourself going through with it. Honestly, it was more to get her off your back about it, but you would be lying to say you weren't a bit intrigued about the chef's reaction.

Sanji is in the kitchen when you decide to do it. He is tossing something in a pan, but his eyes enlighten immediately when he sees you enter. "Love! You're just in time, here, try this!" Sanji holds out a fork to you, and on it is a fragment of the dish he prepared for the crew's dinner. You walk over and smile up at him, letting him feed you the meal. Sanji's face flushes red at the action, and what fills your mouth is utter divinity. It was delicious, of course it was. However, you seem to break the wide smile on your boyfriend's face as you let your next words slip.

"Thanks, bro, that was so good!"

There is a prompt silence. What takes place in front of you then, is what can only be described as a hundred emotions flashing across your boyfriend's face, followed by his blank stare. "B-b-bro?" Sanji's hold on the fork he just held out for you goes limp, and the utensil clatters loudly on the ground. "Sanji?" You look on curiously at the utter dismay that clouds the cook's face, as he falls to his knees. Suddenly your boyfriend is grabbing your arms and looking up at you pleadingly. Tears are pouring comically from his eyes.

"My love, did I do something wrong?"

"Are you leaving me?"

"Have you found someone better?"

"Did I make a mistake?"

His words are uttered quickly to you and his hold on your hands only tightens in his sudden dismay. It breaks your heart. You have to stop his rambling before he falls into the cycle his mind seems to revolve in now. "Sanji!" He pauses as he looks at you like your next words could break him, and you smile gently realising that maybe this prank was too much for his kind heart. "I'm sorry, it was a prank. I could never leave you, I love you."

You don't know what to expect but Sanji suddenly relaxes his hold on you and his face morphs into one of utter relief. "Oh." He then suddenly moves, still on his knees as he envelops you in an embrace, and looks up at you. "I'm glad." You fight the frown on your face as sudden guilt fills you. You shuffle from his arms until you're on your knees too, and you engulf him in a warm hug that he instantly returns. "Sorry Love."

Of course, Sanji forgives you instantly, but you make sure to smother him with a bit more love for the rest of the afternoon.

- Zoro -

You grin as you see your boyfriend finally enter your shared bedroom after a rare shower. Water droplets still cling to his hair and his muscles glow under the low lights. He looks good, but you have to stop yourself and think clearly. Now's not the time. No, you had been planning to play a small prank on your boyfriend all day. It was mostly to get back at him for spending so much time in the crow's nest, but you would be lying to say you weren't a little curious about his reaction.

Zoro makes his way onto his side of the bed, before lying next to you and pecking your lips briefly. You smile at his soft gaze on yours, full of unusual vulnerability in the absence of prying eyes. "Hey, Babe." His words are softly murmured to you as you cuddle up to his side, pulling an arm into your embrace. You relish his warmth. But of course, you had to break the moment, because now was the perfect time.

"Hey dude, I missed you."

You have to force yourself not to laugh when you see how quickly Zoro's face goes from content to confused to bleak irritation. There is silence for a moment, and you think that he might let it go until he speaks up once more. "Babe?" His words are spoken low and in question but you try to play dumb. Looking up at him through your eyelashes you keep up a sleepy facade and hum in acknowledgement. But Zoro can see right through you.

"What was that?"

You tilt your head to the side briefly. "What do you mean?" Zoro looks deep into your gaze, eyebrows twitching in annoyance. "You called me dude." His face is dead serious as he looks at you but you only find amusement in his words. It was kind of sweet how the stoic swordsman cared so deeply about what you called him. "Hmm, did I?" You try playing it off, but Zoro hears clearly the teasing tone placed beneath your words.

"So you wanna play that game, huh?"

Zoro suddenly moves, making you have to release your hold on him; he turns so that his back is facing you. Despite the action, you can't help but stop a smile from reaching your face at his unusual pettiness. "Come on Zoro, you know it was a joke." However, Zoro doesn't give way and silence lingers on his behalf. Your amusement slowly turns to a pout as you start to miss his warmth. Maybe this wasn't the best time to try out this little prank.

"Babeee," Unbeknownst to you, Zoro smirks at the familiar nickname and the whine in your voice. He can feel your hands try to pry him back to you and into your embrace again. "I want my cuddles." He lets you whine and murmur to him and try to get him to budge. He remains still until he finally has enough of his fun and so relents. You grin wide when finally Zoro turns so that he is facing you, opening his arms despite the irritated frown on his face. "Don't call me that again." You grin, basically flinging yourself into him and he wraps his arms around you.

"Sure, pal."

He freezes and sighs. You are going to drive him insane.

- Ace -

"Just do it [y/n], otherwise he won't shut up about it-yoi." Marco flies in, landing by you and Thatch. He had been listening to your conversation about pranking Ace. Your crewmates had been trying to get back at him for ages, and finally realised the best way to do so is through you. You roll your eyes at the men that surround you nodding their heads in agreement. "Fine. But if something goes wrong, I'm blaming you." The two commanders and other division members grin as you sigh and go to approach your boyfriend who had finally made his way back to the ship.

He glances up as you approach, gaze instantly brightening and smile instantly widening at the sight of you. He immediately calls for you and gathers you in his arms, spinning you around and placing a kiss on your lips briefly. You giggle at his actions and relish his warmth, he looks at you fondly. "Missed you baby." He noses the skin on your neck and you smile wide as he breaks contact and looks to you again. It makes you want to back out, but you know you have to break the moment with the stupid prank.

"Really pal? It's only been like an hour."

What follows your words is an instant silence, and you feel Ace's arms freeze against your skin. Surprisingly, it is like his warmth that always lingers starts to fade, as he looks to you blankly.

"Ace?"

You call his name tentatively and wave a hand in front of his face when he doesn't seem to move for a while. "Earth to Ace?" You can hear your crewmates try to stifle their snickering in the background as they observe Ace's dumbfoundedness, all because you called him pal. You had such influence over him, it was unbelievable to them. You sneak a glare at them before turning to your boyfriend once more.

"Ace?"

When you call him once more, he finally moves, and he seems to shake himself free of his absent-minded thoughts.

"Babe," he says tentatively, "who's pal?"

You have to stop yourself from smiling at the sight of his hesitation, he was just too cute. But you know your crewmembers are yet to be satisfied, despite hearing their muffled laughs brim louder. "You." You reply, and his expression morphs into a pout as his eyebrows pull together.

"But I'm not pal, I'm supposed to be your baby."

You can hear your crewmate's laughter even louder now, but his crestfallen expression, and the way he tries to convince you to go back to calling him his pet name enamour you.

So, obviously, you break.

You smile, as you caress his hair gently and sigh. "Yeah... sorry baby, it was a prank." Instantly, Ace straightens but his gaze also wanders behind you to the crew that now mocks him lightheartedly. "But I'm supposed to be your baby~" "Babe, who's pal?" It is followed by their laughter.

Ace's form suddenly blazes and fire licks his skin.

"Did they-" He begins, and you follow his gaze, knowing he's figured it out. You sigh, but smile, looking into his eyes that crave revenge.

"Yep."

You grin when he instantly runs from you to your crewmates shouting absurdities as he chases them, all the while they still mock his prior words. You shake your head in amusement. Just what will you do with them?

- Law -

(A/N: The tiniest bit suggestive at the end)

You thought it would be a harmless prank, and in all honestly, it was. You would simply change the name you call him. What could possibly go wrong? Your crewmates had gathered in your boredom as all your tasks had been completed and time in the Polar Tang dragged on. It led to you all playing a game of truth or dare. A childish game, but it was something to do to pass the time. You had been given the task of seeking out your boyfriend who was supposedly in the kitchen and executing the dare you were given.

To your luck, you find him almost instantly, eating an onigiri while flicking through something; probably some sort of medical research, he never really knew how to rest. He looks up and you watch his gaze soften as you make your way to his side. "[y/n]-ya," he says as you grin and you peck his cheek lightly in greeting, leaning against the counter which he stood by. He observes your timidness curiously. Usually, you would start rambling on about your day or anything that caught your interest, so, he took your silence as being off. "What's wrong?" He asks, eying you in suspicion. You take the opportunity to carry out your dare.

"Nothing, I just missed you man. What are you up to?"

Law almost has to do a double take, but ultimately looks to you with a deadpan expression, clearly not amused. There is a tentative silence, as you try to act dumb, but of course, Law has none of it.

"Okay, what was that?"

You meet his dead-pan stare with your own blank stare, but you know you suck at acting and he sees right through you.

"What was what?"

"Don't play dumb [y/n]-ya. You just called me man." He grimaces as though disgusted by that fact. You stifle a grin.

"So? Aren't you my man?"

Law has to stop himself from smacking his head against the wall. He was wondering what the crew had been getting up to, but he sees now that as usual, you guys were up to no good. He almost instantly puts the dots together.

"This is a dare, isn't it, [y/n]-ya?"

You look up in wide surprise as he figures you out so quick, and his lips upturn at the expression on your face. You never really could get anything past him. Your surprise turns to a pout as you realise that of course he knows; of course, he noticed.

"No fair babe, you figure these things out too quickly."

A smirk grows on his face, as he observes your cute, pouting lips. Suddenly and before Law can stop himself, he reaches for your face and pulls you into a kiss. Your eyes widen in shock at his sudden movements. He usually wasn't so bold in places that people may see his outward affections. He places a teasing tone in his next words, as you feel yourself getting riled up by his proximity.

"You're just too easy to read, love."

Let's just say you soon forget about your failed dare, in fact, you don't return to your crewmates for a while after that.

[hoe4hotchner]

I know you are probably so tired of this but I NEED more smoker Hotch, I do know why but the pure thought of Aaron Hotchner smoking just does something to me, I also wanted to say thank you so much for all that you do for the Aaron hotchner fan base and even the criminal minds fandom ❤️

Bad habits | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader | WC: 0.7k | CW: Smoking cigarettes

A/N: I'm never tired of getting requests (cause let's be honest smoker!hotch is too hot for his own good) Thank you so much for the kind words. It means a lot to hear. 💕💕💕

The first time you caught Aaron smoking, it was in his garage, out of all places. He leaned against the back wall, one foot propped up against the wall, a lit cigarette dangling between his fingers. The faint glow from the overhead bulb cast shadows across his face, highlighting the tension etched into his features.

For a moment, you just stood there, frozen in the doorway, watching. This was Aaron Hotchner, your steadfast, composed partner. The man who was usually all discipline, who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders without ever letting it show. And yet, here he was, indulging in what could only be described as a private ritual.

You crossed your arms and leaned against the doorframe, breaking the silence. “I didn’t take you for a smoker.”

Aaron turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours. His expression didn’t shift much, but you could tell you’d caught him off guard. The hand holding the cigarette hovered near his side like he wasn’t sure whether to hide it or finish it.

“It’s... occasional,” he said after a pause, his voice gravelly, almost sheepish. “Stress, mostly.”

You raised an eyebrow, stepping further into the garage. “Stress? Really? You expect me to believe this is a spur-of-the-moment thing?”

The faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “You think I have a habit?”

“Oh, I know you do,” you shot back, your tone teasing. “You’ve clearly done this before. What, do you sneak out here after bad cases? After long nights at work?” You'd meant it as a joke, but deep down, you knew that some of it probably held truth to it.

He exhaled a thin stream of smoke, the tendrils curling lazily. “Something like that.”

You moved closer, the faint scent of smoke mixed with the familiar aroma of the garage. It should’ve been off-putting, but there was something about the way the cigarette looked in his hand that made your pulse quicken.

“You know, it’s terrible for you,” you said, tilting your head as you studied him.

His lips quirked into a smile, closing his eyes for a split second, more amusement than apology. “So I’ve heard.”

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence. You couldn’t stop watching him — the way his fingers held the cigarette, the way his jaw tightened as he brought it to his lips, and the way the soft glow of the embers lit his face up with each inhale.

It shouldn’t have been attractive. But it was.

“You’re staring,” Aaron said, breaking the spell.

You blinked, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Am not.”

“You are,” he replied. He held the cigarette out to you, his eyes studying your reaction. “Want to try?”

You frowned, narrowing your eyes. “Is this how you justify it? Getting me to join in so you feel less guilty?”

His smirk deepened, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of mischief in his gaze. “Maybe.”

Your lips twitched as you took the cigarette from his hand, your fingers brushing against his. The contact was brief but electric, and you had to steel yourself against the flutter it sent through your chest.

The cigarette felt foreign between your fingers, and you glanced at Aaron for guidance. He stepped closer, his presence steady and grounding.

“Breathe in slowly,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. “Not too deep. It’ll burn if you’re not used to it.”

You followed his instructions, the taste sharp and smoky as it filled your lungs. It wasn’t pleasant — not really — but the way Aaron watched you, his gaze steady and just a little amused, made the moment strangely intimate.

When you exhaled, you handed the cigarette back to him, coughing slightly. “That’s disgusting.”

Aaron chuckled softly. “I didn’t say it was enjoyable.”

“Then why do it?” you asked, crossing your arms.

He took one last drag, his eyes distant for a moment before killing the cigarette in the ashtray on the table next to him. “Because sometimes,” he said, his voice quieter now, “it’s the only thing that helps.”

Your heart twisted at the admission. He didn’t have to say what it was — you knew fully well what he meant, and you admired him for taking on that burden.

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his hand. “You know you don’t have to carry everything alone, right?”

“I know.”

And maybe he did. But as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss to your temple, you made a silent vow to remind him as often as he needed.

[meazalykov]

redirection XIII

esmee brugts x reader

last chapter - next chapter

summary: fomo was the least of your worries

you found out that you will be seated for four weeks. 

not longer, not shorter—four weeks exactly. the team doctor told you with a smile, clearly trying to cheer you up, but it felt like salt on a wound. just a month, but in your world, a month is an eternity. matches will be played, goals scored, chemistry built—and you’ll be stuck on the sidelines watching it all happen without you. 

“it could’ve been worse,” she said, trying to soften the blow. 

you nodded, swallowing your disappointment. “yeah, i guess so.” 

on the flight back to barcelona, your mind raced. your ankle throbbed dully under the brace, but the real pain was in your chest. football wasn’t just what you did; it was who you were. being forced to stop felt unnatural. 

you thought about the benfica match, replaying the moment over and over in your head where kika gave you that lazy tackle—the awkward step, the sharp pain, the immediate knowledge that something was wrong. 

you hated how vividly it replayed, like a loop you couldn’t turn off.

when you returned to camp nou, mapi was the first person waiting for you. “heard we’re gonna be cheerleaders together,” she joked, offering a light hug as you stepped off the team bus. her smile was easy, her tone playful, but there was a knowing in her eyes. she understood what it felt like to be stuck on the sidelines. 

“guess so,” you muttered, managing a small smile. 

“we should start making pom-poms.”

mapi laughed, clapping you on the shoulder. 

“maybe matching outfits too. we’ll be the most fashionable injured pair in la liga.” 

that was mapi—a natural at making people feel a little less miserable, even when she was dealing with her own challenges. her knee injury had taken her out months ago, and she wasn’t close to returning yet. now, with your ankle out of commission, you were joining her in the stands. 

the next game day arrived too quickly. you hated being here, on the sidelines, instead of warming up on the pitch with the team. at least mapi was beside you, her knee brace peeking out from under her wide-legged jeans. 

the two of you sat in the players' section, bundled against the crisp evening air. the roar of the crowd swirled around you as the game against sporting huelva kicked off.

“nice sweater,” mapi said, breaking the silence between you. she leaned over slightly, her eyes taking in the green-and-cream stripes of your knit sweater, the way it paired with your black bomber jacket and blue levi’s. 

“looking very good.”

you smirked, glancing at her. 

“thanks. you’re not looking too bad yourself.” 

mapi grinned, stretching out her legs. her beige trench coat framed her casually, a graphic tee peeking out beneath. 

“we’re really nailing the off-duty athlete look. injured but fashionable.”

“injured but fashionable,” you repeated with a laugh. “put that on a shirt.” 

as the game unfolded, you tried to focus on the play. alexia was everywhere, commanding the midfield as she always did, her movements fluid and precise. salma was a whirlwind up the wing, creating chances with her speed and creativity. 

you should’ve been absorbed in the action, but your mind kept wandering. you missed the feeling of the ball at your feet, the adrenaline of a perfectly timed pass. sitting here felt like punishment. 

mapi must have sensed your restlessness. “so,” she said, tilting her head toward you. “how’s esmee? you two still in the honeymoon phase?” 

you felt the warmth rise to your cheeks. “it’s going great,” you said, a bit more brightly than you intended. 

“good.” mapi’s smile was genuine. “she’s good for you, you know. you both seem happier these days.” 

you nodded, letting the thought sink in. esmee did make you happy—her laugh, her steady presence, the way she always seemed to know exactly what to say. as mapi turned her attention back to the match, a tiny voice in the back of your head whispered that happiness doesn’t mean invincibility. 

you weren’t aware, not yet, that a storm was brewing just beneath the surface.

“and you?” you asked, nudging mapi lightly. “how’s ingrid?”

mapi’s face softened instantly, her love for ingrid obvious in the way her expression warmed. 

“she’s good. carrying the back while i’m stuck here looking pretty.” 

“you’re so proud of her,” you teased.

“always,” mapi replied, her grin widening. 

“but she’s probably sick of me complaining about not playing.”

you snorted. “you? complaining? never.”

mapi laughed, the sound light and easy. “okay, maybe a little.” 

the two of you settled back into the rhythm of the game, watching as the team worked together to hold off huelva. after a while, mapi leaned closer, her voice low. 

“you know, we’re kind of like the injured girlfriends cheering on our healthy ones.”

you laughed, but it felt hollow. “yeah,” you said, glancing toward the pitch. “except i don’t feel much like cheering.” 

mapi frowned, her gaze shifting to you. “hey. you’ll be back soon. four weeks is nothing.”

you shrugged, trying to shake off the weight in your chest. 

“it feels like forever. and you’re out for way longer. i feel bad even complaining about it.” 

“don’t,” mapi said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. 

“injuries suck for everyone. just focus on healing, okay?”

you nodded, grateful for her words even if they didn’t fully ease the ache of being sidelined. 

in the second half, the energy on the pitch ramped up. the team was pressing hard, controlling the game, but then a scuffle broke out near the box. esmee was in the thick of it, challenging an opposing player for the ball. 

the ref’s whistle cut through the air, and both esmee and the other player were shown yellow cards.

you sat up straighter, watching as esmee stood there, her jaw tight, her unusual irritation clear. it only lasted a moment—she shook her head and jogged back into position—but you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of concern. 

“spicy,” mapi commented, raising an eyebrow. 

you smiled faintly, your eyes still on esmee. “she doesn’t usually get cards.” 

“she’s got fire in her, even if she tries to hide it,” mapi said with a shrug. 

“it’s part of why she’s so good.”

you nodded, but the image of esmee’s frustration lingered in your mind. 

after the final whistle blew, the team celebrated their victory, the energy on the pitch electric. you and mapi were allowed down to join them, weaving through the chaos of hugs and high-fives. 

alexia found you first, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“missed you out there,” she said, her voice muffled against your shoulder. 

“missed you too,” you replied, holding her just as tightly. 

“you played amazing.”

alexia pulled back slightly, her hands still on your shoulders. 

“it’s not the same without you.” 

you smiled, the sincerity in her words easing some of the tension in your chest. 

“i’ll be back soon. promise.”

“you better!” alexia points at you with a giggle.

salma appeared next, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “we need you back,” she said dramatically. “the pitch is boring without you.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “don’t worry. four weeks. i’ll be back.”

the celebrations swirled around you, but your attention drifted to esmee. she was near the coach, talking animatedly with jana. you started toward her, wanting to check in, but before you could get close, she looked at you before she turned and walked over to bruna instead.

the sting of being ignored was sharp, but you tried to push it down. vicky caught you before you could dwell on it too long, teasing you about your ankle boot. “looking stylish,” she said, smirking as she tapped your boot that definitely didn’t go with your dr.marten 8053s on your other foot. 

“jealous?” you shot back. 

“i can let you borrow it.”

“tempting,” she replied with a laugh. “but i think i’ll pass.”

the banter lifted your mood for a moment, but it didn’t last. esmee’s avoidance lingered in the back of your mind, a nagging ache you couldn’t ignore. 

you caught ingrid watching you from across the pitch, her expression thoughtful. she walked over, her hand resting gently on your shoulder. 

“es is upset about the yellow card,” ingrid said softly. 

“she’ll open up soon.”

you shook your head, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. 

“she seems fine with bruna and jana, but she won’t even look at me.”

ingrid opened her mouth to respond, but you didn’t wait to hear it. “i’m just gonna go,” you muttered, brushing past her and heading toward the tunnel. 

back in the lounge, you grabbed a bottle of water and sank into a chair, your thoughts swirling. the celebrations felt distant now, overshadowed by the uncertainty gnawing at your chest. 

you hated feeling this way—unsure, disconnected, like something was wrong but you couldn’t fix it. why is my girlfriend pushing me away? you overanalyzed. 

after a while, you decided to head to the locker room. the team was already inside, changing and chatting as the post-game energy began to fade. you didn’t bother changing, still comfortable in your outfit. instead, you stood by your locker, watching the others with a quiet sort of detachment. 

“i’m heading home,” you announced, your voice cutting through the chatter. 

“already?” vicky asked, frowning. 

you nodded, forcing a smile. “yeah. i’m tired. see you guys later.” 

you didn’t look at esmee as you left, but you felt her eyes on you, a confused sort of weight that followed you out the door. 

the night air was cool as you stepped outside, the streets of barcelona quieting as the city settled into the late hours. as you walked to your car, your thoughts drifted back to esmee—her avoidance, the tension you couldn’t quite name. 

you told yourself to give her space, to let her come to you when she was ready. as you drove home, the ache in your chest lingered, heavier than before. 

before you were able to park outside of your apartment complex, you got a text on your phone. 

esmee: can i come over? 

you look at it, yearning for your girlfriend who ignored you earlier. maybe she might explain herself if she came over, you knew that communication was important, even if esmee forgot earlier. 

y/n: yes. 

next chapter

[daisymbin]

11. "you remembered my favorite drink?"

17. "you forgot your umbrella, so i came to walk you home."

jun picking up reader from uni or work when it’s raining and then stopping by a cafe on their way home to order her favorite drink 🥰

omg this is so cute 🥺🥺🥺 thank you for requesting this anon!!

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // jun's m.list

fluff prompt #11: "you remembered my favourite drink?" +

fluff prompt #17: "you forgot your umbrella, so I came to walk you home."

the rain came down in sheets, tapping insistently against the windows of the lecture hall as you packed up your things. your umbrella, which you’d distinctly remembered grabbing this morning, was nowhere to be found.

you groaned softly, tugging your bag higher onto your shoulder. it was late, and the idea of waiting for the rain to let up wasn’t exactly appealing.

as you stepped outside, huddling under the awning for shelter, a familiar figure caught your eye. jun stood across the courtyard, holding a large, navy-blue umbrella. his gaze found yours almost instantly, and he waved.

“you forgot your umbrella, so i came to walk you home,” he called out, his voice carrying easily over the rain.

you blinked, surprised and a little touched. “jun? what are you doing here?”

he jogged over, the umbrella shielding him perfectly. when he reached you, he grinned, tilting the umbrella just enough to share. “like i said, i came to walk you home. i figured you might’ve left your umbrella behind.”

“how did you know?” you asked, though your tone was more curious than accusatory.

he shrugged, his free hand resting lightly on your shoulder to guide you toward the sidewalk. “you’re predictable. plus, you texted me this morning about rushing out the door.”

you laughed softly, shaking your head. “and here i thought you didn’t pay attention.”

“i always pay attention,” he said, his tone light but his words holding a quiet sincerity.

as the two of you walked, the rain continued to fall steadily, a soothing rhythm that made the world feel smaller and cozier under the shared umbrella. jun kept the umbrella tilted slightly more toward you, even though it left his shoulder damp.

“you’re going to get soaked,” you said, glancing at him.

“i’ll survive,” he replied with a grin. “besides, i’d rather you stay dry. your hair takes forever to fix after it gets wet.”

you elbowed him playfully, but your cheeks warmed at the thoughtfulness behind his teasing.

as you turned onto a quieter street, the warm glow of a small café caught your attention. jun noticed it, too, and tugged you gently toward the entrance.

“let’s stop here for a bit,” he said. “you look like you could use something warm.”

“jun, you don't have to—”

“i want to,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

inside, the air was warm and fragrant, filled with the comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods. jun nudged you toward a table by the window before heading to the counter to place an order.

when he returned, he set a steaming cup in front of you, the exact drink you always ordered from this café.

you blinked, looking from the cup to him. “you remembered my favorite drink?”

“of course,” he said, sliding into the seat across from you. “you get the same thing every time. it wasn’t hard to remember.”

“still,” you said softly, your hands wrapping around the cup for warmth. “it’s sweet of you.”

he smiled, resting his chin in his hand as he watched you take a sip. “you say that like it’s surprising. i’m always sweet.”

you rolled your eyes, but the corners of your lips tugged upward. “debatable.”

“i walked all the way here in the rain to make sure you didn’t get soaked, and i bought you your favorite drink. if that’s not sweet, i don’t know what is.”

“fine,” you conceded, a soft laugh escaping you. “you’re sweet. happy?”

“very,” he said, his grin widening.

the two of you sat there for a while, the rain creating a gentle soundtrack to your conversation. jun’s presence was steady and reassuring, a constant in your life that you realized you’d come to rely on more than you cared to admit.

as you finished your drink and prepared to leave, jun stood first, holding the umbrella ready for you.

“come on,” he said, offering his hand to help you up.

you took it, letting him guide you back outside. the rain had lessened slightly, but he still held the umbrella firmly above you, keeping you sheltered as you walked the rest of the way home.

“thanks, jun,” you said after a moment, your voice quiet but earnest.

his lips curved into a small, genuine smile. “you don’t have to thank me. i’ll always look out for you. you’re… important to me.”

your heart stuttered at his words, and for a moment, you weren’t sure what to say. but as you walked beside him, sharing the umbrella and the quiet comfort of his presence, you realized you didn’t need to say anything.

the rain had eased into a drizzle by the time you and jun reached your apartment, soft droplets creating patterns against the glow of the streetlights. jun still held the umbrella over you, despite the fact that his shoulder was completely soaked.

“jun, you’re dripping water everywhere,” you teased as he closed the umbrella and leaned it against the wall just inside the door.

“worth it,” he said easily, shaking out his damp hair like a golden retriever. “better me than you.”

you rolled your eyes, but your chest warmed at his nonchalant response. “you could’ve just told me to take care of myself instead of coming all the way to pick me up, you know.”

jun tilted his head, giving you a mock-serious look as he pulled off his wet jacket. “and miss the chance to be your knight in shining armor? no way.”

“knight in soggy armor, more like,” you shot back, heading toward the kitchen to grab some towels.

“but still, a knight,” he called after you, laughing softly.

when you returned with towels, jun was already sprawled on the couch, looking perfectly at ease despite his rain-drenched clothes.

“here,” you said, tossing one at him. “you’re going to catch a cold if you don’t dry off.”

“i knew you cared,” he said smugly, catching the towel with ease.

you smirked, plopping down on the couch next to him. “barely. i just don’t want to hear you whining about being sick.”

jun gave you an exaggerated gasp, clutching his chest like you’d wounded him. “you’re so mean to me.”

“you like it,” you quipped without thinking.

the words hung in the air for a moment, and you immediately felt your cheeks heat up.

jun’s lips quirked into a sly grin as he leaned closer, towel forgotten in his lap. “oh? do i?”

“don’t push your luck,” you muttered, focusing intently on wringing out the towel in your hands.

but jun didn’t let it drop. he leaned back, running the towel through his damp hair as he spoke, his voice quieter now. “you know, you say that, but you didn’t seem to mind when i showed up tonight. almost like… you were... expecting me to come."

you frowned slightly, glancing at him. “i didn’t expect you. i just… it was nice that you did.”

“so you admit it,” he said, the teasing lilt returning to his tone. “you liked having me there.”

you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “why do you have to make everything into a game?”

jun’s laughter softened, and when you peeked through your fingers, he was watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place.

“it’s not a game,” he said quietly. “not with you.”

your hands fell slowly, the weight of his words settling between you. “jun…”

“i’m serious,” he continued, his gaze steady. “if it were anyone else, i wouldn’t have gone out in the rain. wouldn’t have remembered their favorite drink, wouldn’t have cared so much about keeping them dry. but with you…”

his voice trailed off, and he ran a hand through his still-damp hair, looking almost shy for the first time. “with you, it’s different.”

your heart raced as you processed his words, your mind spinning with what they could mean.

he met your gaze, his usual playful confidence replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. “i’m saying that i’d walk through a hundred storms for you. no teasing, no games. just… because it’s you.”

you stared at him, the sincerity in his voice making your chest ache in the best way. “you really mean that?”

“have i ever lied to you?” he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips. “besides, if i’m going to be soaking wet for someone, it better be worth it.”

you laughed, the sound breaking the tension in the room. “so you’re saying i’m worth it?”

“more than worth it,” he said, his grin widening.

the warmth in his voice made your heart swell, and you reached out to lightly shove his shoulder. his eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and something deeper.

you shook your head, but you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face. “you know, if you wanted to tell me you like me, you could’ve just said it.”

jun’s grin softened into something gentler as he leaned a little closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. “i thought i already did.”

your breath caught, the closeness of him making your pulse race. but instead of pulling away, you smiled, your voice equally soft. “yeah, i guess you did.”

“so… is this the part where you tell me how you feel?” he asked, his tone light but his expression hopeful.

you bit your lip, pretending to think it over. “hmm, i don’t know. maybe i should make you wait a little longer, just to keep things interesting.”

jun groaned dramatically, throwing his head back against the couch. “you’re going to be the death of me, i swear.”

you laughed, leaning into his side as you finally let the words spill out. “i like you, too, you big idiot.”

his head snapped up, a wide grin breaking across his face. “you do?”

“i do,” you said, rolling your eyes at his excitement. “but if you tell anyone i said that, i’ll deny it.”

“your secret’s safe with me,” he promised, pulling you closer until your head rested against his shoulder.

outside, the rain continued to fall, but inside, everything felt warm and safe and just right. & you realised, jun’s actions spoke louder than words ever could.

[bullet-prooflove]

Baggage: Mike Franks x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @ilovemark1951 @love-affair-with-fandoms @clarasmoon @saturnsdevilz

Ties into GIbb's Ice Queen storyline:

Revelations - Gibbs is surprised to discover a connection between you and Mike Franks.

Haunted - Mike reflects on the aftermath of Violet's death.

Mike doesn’t realise he’s saying another woman’s name in his sleep, not until he wakes up to an empty bed at fuck knows what time on a Saturday morning. Things have been going well between the two of you since he put his cards on the table, you’ve been staying over, keeping stuff at his place. He thinks you’d move in if he asked you to and he’s been thinking about it, he just needs to bury this case first.

Once that’s over he can start looking to the future, one that starts with mornings going down on you and nights wrapped up in you.  

He finds you in the kitchen, hunched over the sink scrubbing the shit out of last night’s skillet. He leans in the doorway, appreciating you for a minute, drinking you in. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts, it barely covers your ass. Your hair is pulled up into a messy bun revealing that hickey he left on the back of your neck because he’d gotten a little carried away when he was fucking you from behind against the headboard. His gaze comes to rest back on that skillet, the ferocity of your cleaning and he knows that somewhere between making love to you last night and waking up this morning he's fucked up bad.

“What did I do?” He asks you, fiddling with the buttons of his open shirt.

You pause then, dropping the skillet back into the sink before you incline your head towards him. He can see the profile of your face in the light from the kitchen window and it almost takes his breath away. He has moments like this sometimes, ones where he gets a fierce rush of emotion when he sees you. He’s forgotten how intense it can be, falling in love again, the power you give the other person when you give them a part of yourself. Mike, he would walk through fire for you if you asked him to but you never will because love is about trust, about knowing the other person has your best interests at heart even when you lose sight of your own.

“Who is Violet?” You ask and the bottom just falls out of his entire world. “You’ve been saying her name in your sleep so she must be someone important.”

 “That’s a complicated answer.” He says finally because Mike he doesn’t like to go back to that place, not if he can help it.

“Oh.” You say, picking up a cloth to dry your hands as you turn to face him. There’s a hurt in your features, an anguish he feels deep down in the depths of this bones. “Well if it’s complicated, then let me uncomplicate it for you.”

You toss the cloth at him before you head towards the bedroom. He knows what you’re doing, you’re going to pack up your stuff, leave and part of him thinks he should let you because his baggage, it’s too fucking heavy to share with anyone else.

But then he remembers Maeve’s words from the night she patched him up back then and he realises maybe it's time to start talking about this shit.

“She died.” He says as you throw your holdall onto the bed. “Violet was my fiancée and she died.”

You freeze then and Mike waits for the words to filter through, his palm rubbing over the nape of his neck as you slowly sit down on the bed.

“It was a while back...” He tells you, tilting his head away because it’s easier to tell this story if he doesn’t have to look at you. “She was…”

He can’t quite find the words to describe Violet.

Vivacious, bubbly, the life and soul of the party.

None of them seem enough.

“I loved her, I loved who I was when I was with her.”

He’d been brighter back then, less cynical. The world, it hadn’t seemed like such a dark place. He comes to sit beside you on the bed, his palms rubbing over each other as he continues his story.

“One night she went for a run, didn’t come home. I was working a shift, didn’t realise until the military police turned up looking for me.” He looks up then, his eyes meeting yours. “He hadn’t just killed her, he brutalised her too. He took something from her that even if she had lived, she would never have been able to get back.”

He sees your understanding. As a female detective in the SDPD, cases that involve sex crimes usually get delegated to you. The consensus is it’s a woman crime therefore the women are better equipped to handle it. The illusion is the victim is the only one destroyed by the crime, but rape, it has a ripple effect, it invades everyone connected to that person, it changes them.

“I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you.” You say into the silence, your hand clasping his. Your touch, it’s a lifeline in that moment, it gives him the strength to push on, to divulge the rest of the sordid story.

“It broke me.” He reveals, his voice raw with emotion. “I was a mess for long time after that, drinking, fighting, I just had to much fucking rage and I had nowhere to focus it.”

“They didn’t catch the guy?”

“No.” Mike says as he rubs the back of his hand across his eyes. “But the probie decided to go digging through the file recently and it’s generated some leads, I think we’re close, real fucking close.”

You squeeze his hand gently.

“That’s what the life lessons are about aren’t they?” You say softly. “You’re trying to make sure if anything happens…”

You trail off then and Mike nods his agreement.

“Leigh.” He says, his calloused hands encompassing your face, cradling it between them. “You are the most important thing in this world to me. When we started, it was like something inside just sparked and the part of me that had died, it came back to life. I could laugh again, breath again and that’s because of you, because of the way that you loved me.”

His forehead comes to rest upon yours, his thumbs stroking tenderly over your cheeks.

“If something happened to you I wouldn’t survive.” He murmurs against your mouth. “If I lost you like that…”

He’d follow you right into the grave, he can guarantee it.

“You won’t.” You promise him, your lips brushing over his. “With everything you’ve taught me, you’ve made sure of that.”

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