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bastetwastaken · 1 year ago

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Happy Birthday @puzzl-d !

You deserve all the nice things my friend and nothing but happiness. I hope you have a day as wonderful and lovely as you are <3

Have a short fic inspired by your love for catboys as a gift <3 <3

His tail flicked impatiently as he waited for his boyfriends to come home. He looked at the pile of blankets and pillows on the floor once more then sank to his knees to rearrange them for the hundredth time.

He huffed out a breath as he sat back on his heels, looking around the room which he’d almost completely rearranged for this evening. The sofa had been pushed back against the wall of shelves, the armchair shoved into the corner, all of their cushions missing and now forming part of the huge pile in the middle of the room.

He’d taken care to include all of his boyfriends favourite things. He had Yami’s favourite furry blanket with its many holes draped over one side of the pile of cushions, Atems favourite plush and oversized hoody on the other. He even had the heating pad on to warm up the cushion pile for Atem too, mindful of his boyfriends eternal hatred of the cold but constant refusal to wear proper clothing.

Now all he had to do was wait, but for him, waiting was the hardest part.

He sighed and pushed himself up off the floor, the small bell jingling on his collar as he moved. It was originally just a joke, an offhand comment by Yami that he should wear a bell so they knew where he was in the house after too many occasions of him accidentally scaring his lovers but it had become part of his wardrobe now.

He loved the way Yami would smile when he saw it, and how Atem would playfully flick it with his fingers whenever boredom struck to make it ring.

As he crossed the room his ears flicked back toward the door, the sound of someone walking down the hall of their apartment complex drew his attention but the sound of the footsteps told him it was just their neighbour coming home.

He placed his hands on the window ledge and peered out of the glass, wondering where his lovers were.

They’d only gone out for snacks, Yami had insisted on joining Atem because Atem couldn’t possibly be trusted to get his favourite brand of chips or the right kind of ice cream. When Atem had suggested that Yami simply go instead of him, Yami had been offended at the very notion that he should set foot outside and have to socialise alone.

He smiled to himself as he looked down the street in the direction of the store he knew they’d gone to. They should be back any moment and Yugi was ready to surprise them with an evening of games, movies, snacking and hopefully cuddling.

They didn’t do this often enough with their busy work schedules and other commitments and he missed it. He missed feeling the heat of his boyfriends either side of him, to have his fur and skin warmed by theirs and be able to enjoy their company without any other distractions.

He turned away from the window, his long tail curled around his humanoid body instinctively. A nervous habit he had developed years ago when he had moved to the city.

He ran his hands over the soft fur aimlessly as he tried to be patient for his boyfriends return. It wasn’t that he minded being home alone, in fact, he actually liked it but after the week he’d had at work he just wanted some time with those who loved him most.

A chance to spoil his boyfriends, to show them how much he cared and reconnect with them in a way which they’d only ever done once before.

The large nest of pillows and blankets had warmed his heart to see that first time, when he’d come home to both of his boyfriends standing in the hallway, they’d taken his hands and pulled him into the living room faster than he could ask what was happening and dragged him onto the soft pile where they’d proceeded to do nothing but love him for the entire evening.

He wanted to return that favour and show them that he would do the same for them.

With a smile on his face, he turned on the TV, loaded up their favourite game and dropped the controllers onto the floor near their nest, making sure everything would be within reach and he wouldn’t have to get back up after they got comfortable unless it was absolutely necessary.

A key in the lock had him jumping to attention, tail fluffing in a defensive reaction to being so suddenly jerked out of his thoughts, ears back and heart beating faster.

“You have such little faith in me.” Atems warm voice soothed him and calmed his body’s reactions. “I would have done just fine on my own.”

Boots were kicked off, falling with soft thuds onto the mat near the door.

“You keep telling yourself that.” Yami’s teasing voice made him smile. “But without my help, you’d have been lost.”

“Hey, I’m capable of doing things.” Atem said, his tone suggesting he was wearing the adorable pout on his face which Yugi knew Yami would do anything to see. His voice became louder as they walked toward the room Yugi was standing in. “Yugi, my love, tell our darling Yami that I’m capable.”

“You’re proving my point by running to our love.” Yami said.

Atem entered the room first, saw Yugi standing in the centre over the next of pillows wearing his comfiest clothes and he paused, head tilted to the side, eyes wide and attentive. Yami had to step around him to see what had their boyfriend stuck.

“Oh.” Yami said, a smile slowly spread over his face, his large black ears standing to attention and tail curling at the end. “A surprise? For us?”

“Yep.” He smiled, tail flicking happily as he stepped toward his boyfriends. “I know we’ve all been so busy recently and I think we deserve a night off.”

Atem and Yami looked at each other, huge smiles on their faces as they turned back to him.

“I agree.” Atem said as he moved closer, dropping the paper bag onto the floor next to the nest then reaching for him. Yugi took his hand and held his other hand out to Yami. “You deserve a night like this.”

He blushed, his tail quivered excitedly as Atem pulled him closer. Yamis hand brushed through his hair slowly and down the back of his neck, the short fur there standing to attention as his boyfriend's hand passed.

“You do.” Yami said softly, leaning into him and nudging his head gently under Yugi's jaw, ears rubbing against his neck before he moved away and Atem repeated the gesture on his other side.

He laughed happily, pulling on his boyfriends hands as he stepped back into the room, the others following him eagerly.

“Go get changed, then we can get settled and not move for the rest of the night.” He said, dropping their hands and smiling at them.

There was no response but both of his boyfriends hurried out of the room toward their bedroom and Yugi waited patiently for their return, wondering who would get back to him soonest.

Atem was obviously the fastest, smiling at him as he stepped back into the room, loose comfy pants covering his legs but no shirt, as usual. His boyfriends body was always a welcome sight though, soft dark orange fur on his sides and lower back blended seamlessly with his brown skin.

He looked comfortable and at ease, but Yugi could tell he was cold.

The weather was turning after all, and despite them keeping their apartment warm, Atem was never warm enough.

He scooped up the hoody he’d laid out earlier and held it open for Atem who seemed ready to object but a shiver muted his words. Atem slid his arms into the hoody, a soft purr reached Yugi's keen ears and he laughed happily as Atem turned back to him.

When Atems arms opened for him he was already meeting him halfway, his hands slid into the open hoody and over Atems soft fur, reaching around to his back as he was pulled closer.

Atems purr rumbled quietly in his chest and Yugi felt it as if it was his own. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the side of Atems, his chin on his shoulder as he listened to his boyfriends content purrs.

“Ugh, I leave you two alone for a moment.” Yami’s voice was full of amusement even though he tried to hide it.

His eyes opened and he saw Yami standing in the doorway, an oversized and long-sleeved shirt hanging perfectly off him and a soft smile on his face.

“You’re always welcome to join us.” He said.

Yami smiled as he walked closer, his long fluffy tail swaying behind him with each step until he reached them. Yami leaned against Atems back and nudged his nose against Yugis lovingly, placing a gentle kiss to his lips before moving away and stepping around them.

“Come on you two.” Yami said. “Stop delaying the inevitable.”

“And what’s that?” Atem asked as he stepped away from him.

Yugi turned to find Yami sitting in the nest of pillows smiling smugly up at them, game controllers in his hands.

“Me beating you both.” Yami said.

“Oh, don’t make me have to take you down.” Atem said with a laugh as he took his place on the other side of the nest.

“You couldn’t even if you tried darling.” Yami said smugly.

“Relax you two.” Yugi said as he sat down between them, taking a controller from Yami and leaning back against the pillows behind him. “If anyone’ll be beating you, it’s me.”

“I love that confidence.” Atem said with a laugh, shuffling closer to him as he leaned back and looked up at the TV in front of them.

Yami laughed and settled on his other side, starting the game.

………..

The games had long since finished, all three of them more content to just lay together and do nothing instead of having to think.

Yugi wasn’t complaining.

He sighed happily as Yami brushed his face against his shoulder, a large black ear flicked him in the chin and he laughed. His hand slid down Atems hoody and under it, brushing through soft orange hued fur.

“This is nice.” He said softly. Yami hummed in agreement and Atem laughed, his lips brushing against the side of his neck.

“It is.” Atem said, a quick kiss was placed above his collar and he laughed. “You always take such good care of us.”

“I love you both.” He said, rubbing his head against Atem then turning to do the same to Yami. “So much.”

“We love you too.” Yami said happily, shuffling closer and rubbing his head under his jaw.

He knew what he was doing, as did Atem, but he also knew that Yami wouldn’t actually ask for what he wanted. He looked at Atem who smiled at him mischievously then they both moved at the same time.

Atem used his hold on Yamis hand to pull him over Yugi whilst he slid to the side fast enough for Yami to fall between him and Atem, his expression forced into one of shock but they both knew that Yami wasn’t really shocked at what they’d done.

He knew that Yami was right where he wanted to be.

With a laugh he curled around his boyfriend, his tail claiming one of Yamis legs just because he could. He rubbed his head against Yami, his ears brushed against his soft skin and through styled hair.

He knew Atem was doing the same and Yami tried to swat at them both but the deep rumbling purr he could hear and feel gave away just how much he enjoyed the attention.

Atem answered with a loud purr and small chirping sound which Yugi adored hearing. Yugi didn’t purr, he wasn’t sure he could, but he did answer his boyfriends sound with one of his own, smiling when Yami answered him too.

He smiled when he felt Atem take his hand which was resting over Yamis stomach, he looked up to find Atem smiling softly at him, his eyes closed in a slow blink which Yugi mirrored.

Yami laughed under them and nudged his head against Atems, demanding his attention and Yugi was only too happy to let Yami have this moment. He had all the love he needed after all just being here with these two people who had changed his life for the better.

He dropped his head to nuzzle against the soft black fur on the side of Yami’s neck, rubbing his face affectionately against his boyfriends and letting the resulting purr warm his heart whilst his boyfriends and the blanket nest around them warmed his body.

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If you guys like catboys, and boys having a good time, you should 100% go check out the wonderful Monarch fic Puzzle is writing at the moment- Strawberry

#mobiumshipping #atem #yugi mutou #yami yugi #fanfic #ygo dm #Happy birthday to a lovely and dear friend

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mischievouslittlecreature · 11 months ago

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Part 3: Bedside Manner

Fandom: The Dark Knight Trilogy

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x OC

Summary: He really does worry about her too much.

Word Count: 3,282

Notes: This is so goddamn fluffy and soft you guys I don’t even know what to say. Takes place after Jonathan and Vanessa have started working at Arkham. For those curious, the exact procedure Vanessa gets in this is a bilateral salpingectomy, which is a removal of the fallopian tubes, often as a method of permanent birth control. I am not a doctor, so apologies for any medical inaccuracies. Warnings for references to surgery and tokophobia.

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Jonathan kept an arm firmly around her as they walked up to their apartment building, being mindful of the small incisions in her stomach. Punching the button for the elevator, he rested a hand to her forehead, brows creased with worry.

“Relax, ‘m not gonna fall,” she mumbled, even as she leaned against him gratefully, still a little drowsy and wobbly on her feet from the anesthesia. He didn’t say a word, just pursed his lips and tightened his grip on her, ushering her into the elevator and pushing the number for their floor.

“Are you still dizzy?” he asked as they made their way down the hallway, pulling his keys from his pocket and unlocking the apartment door.

“A little,” she admitted. “Mostly just feel loopy, though.”

“Mm,” he locked the multiple locks on the door once they were inside and herded her towards the couch in the living room, helping her to settle against the cushions, reclining the seat for her and tucking a pillow under her head, grabbing the soft orange blanket folded over the back of the couch to wrap around her. “Are you hungry? Want me to get you something?”

“Not right now,” she yawned.

“Tea?”

She wasn’t really that thirsty either, but he seemed to need something to do, else he would begin fussing.

“Sure.”

Cuddling the worn blanket closer to her, she watched with quiet fondness as he rushed away into the kitchen, fumbling with the kettle. He really did worry about her too much.

The surgery really wasn’t that big of a deal; and it had been something that she’d wanted to have done for years. To rid herself of the increasing anxiety that came with being riddled with diagnosable tokophobia.

Good-bye, fallopian tubes. You will not be missed.

It had been a thorough pain in the ass convincing someone to actually give her the procedure, but her calculated and carefully curated friendship–okay, friendship was a rather generous term, more like friendly acquaintance–with one of the surgeons who she’d gone to college with had helped her jump the line.

She really was dead lucky. Most people had to wait until they were at least thirty for the doctors to agree to jettison their tubes. Having Jonathan stand sternly in the darkest corner of the room with his most serious face during her consultations had probably helped.

“Still feeling okay?” he asked, setting a mug of steaming tea carefully onto a coaster on the table next to her.

“Mhm. A little pain in my shoulders, but not too bad.”

“I could go get you a heating pad or something–” he made a move to head towards the hallway where the linen closet was, but she grabbed at the sleeve of his shirt before he could get too far away.

“What I want is to just lay here and nap and watch terrible sitcoms. I’m fine, okay? Don’t fuss. I know that you have work to do. If I need you, I’ll holler,” the office door was quite literally right there. She probably wouldn’t even need to actually yell for him to hear her. But still, Jonathan frowned, eyes looking her up and down. Vanessa sighed good naturedly. “Or, you could go get your work and come sit here next to me. If that would make you feel better.”

He stroked the back of his hand along her cheek. “Okay.”

She waited until he got settled beside her, case notes on his lap and pen in hand, before she pressed the play button on the remote, snuggling down into the couch.

She was asleep before even thirty minutes had passed.

∗ ∗ ∗

She woke up still on the couch. The television was on but outside it was dark. Her blanket was tucked up to her chin, and she was warm.

“Jonathan?” her eyesight was blurry, mind still half asleep. Curled up beside her, he stirred, immediately bending over her.

“You okay? Are you in pain?”

“No, ‘m okay,” she yawned. “A little hungry.”

“I’ll heat something up for you. What do you want?”

“We still have some of that chicken parm soup left?”

“I think so. You want that?”

“Yeah.”

He departed only briefly to get them both some soup, the microwave beeping and whirring as it worked. The soup steamed from the bowls, generous pieces of chicken and pasta floating in the watery red liquid.

“After you’ve eaten you can take your pain meds.”

“Okay,” she hadn’t even realized how ravenous she was until she scooped up the first mouthful, not even caring when she slightly burned her tongue. Her finished bowl was deposited onto the worn coffee table, swallowing her horse pills with a large gulp of water before curling back up onto the couch. Jonathan stretched out beside her.

“Do you want to go to bed?”

“Yeah,” she lifted a hand to cover a yawn, squeaking when in one fluid motion she was off of the couch and cradled securely in his arms, being carried bridal style towards the bedroom. “I can walk!” she laughed, arms looping around his neck.

He settled her down very, very carefully onto the bed, rummaging around, dresser drawers squeaking as he gathered up both of their sets of pajamas. She changed sluggishly, realizing with every required movement just how exhausted and weak she felt. But that was normal; they had told her before the surgery that the first three or so days would be the hardest. Still, the feeling of being so physically vulnerable made her more nervous than she’d care to admit, suddenly incredibly grateful that Jonathan had taken the next several days off of work to take care of her.

“If you’re not tired, or need to get more work done that’s okay…” she mumbled as she got herself situated on the pillows. Jonathan’s eyes narrowed stubbornly, climbing into his spot beside her, long limbs folding gracefully into the bed.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he tucked a lock of long black hair behind her ear.

“If you’re sure…” the words were spoken even as she inched closer to him, humming as his arm wrapped around her, being careful not to put any pressure on her incisions.

“Mhm,” he hummed in affirmation.

“Okay, then.”

∗ ∗ ∗

“Nessa?”

She whined, head between her knees, legs curled towards her chest. The tile of the bathroom where she was sitting beside the toilet was cold. Jonathan took another cautious step into the little room, kneeling down beside her and gingerly touching her knee. She felt bad for not waking him. It had probably scared him a little; to have woken up without her beside him.

“Nauseous?”

She just nodded, taking a deep breath, as if that would somehow help settle her stomach. “Haven’t actually been sick, though.”

Shifting so that he was sitting beside her, he rubbed her back. “Do you want me to call the doctor?”

“No. It’s not that bad,” squirming a bit, she groaned. “Shoulders hurt more this morning too.”

“I’m sorry.”

She just shrugged. These were all normal side effects, nothing to be too concerned about yet. But they still sucked.

Stretching his head around to check the time on the clock hanging from the wall, Jonathan huffed. “You can’t take your pain meds without eating something.”

She groaned softly at the suggestion of food, stomach writhing. Jonathan increased the circles he was rubbing into her back.

“Once you’re outside of the twenty-four hour window, the nausea should get better. Think you could handle some crackers?”

“I can try.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back,” he kissed her on the top of the head, disappearing in the kitchen and returning with a sleeve of saltines. Suppressing a gag, she took one from him, nibbling on it tentatively. He pressed his warm side up against hers, watching carefully as she slowly ate one cracker after another. The food seemed to actually help, the nausea abating, if only slightly.

They waited until they were confident that she wasn’t going to throw the crackers back up before she took her painkillers.

“Let’s go back to bed. It won’t be good for your pain to sit on the hard floor like this.”

“I might puke on you,” she warned, even as she let him pull her slowly to her feet and guide her back to the bedroom.

“That’s okay.”

She still insisted that he put a trash can next to her side of the bed. Just in case. It took her a long time to fall back to sleep, the nausea and persistent pain in her shoulders from the gas keeping her up. But Jonathan stayed up with her, rubbing her shoulders and kissing her temple until she finally dozed off.

When she woke up, she took one look at Jonathan, who was sitting up in bed beside her, one arm still around her while the other balanced a book in front of him, and promptly burst into tears.

“Vanessa?” the second he heard her sniffling the book was slammed shut and deposited on the bedside table, hand reaching for her as he tried to discern what was wrong. “Are you in pain?”

She just shook her head furiously, burying her head in her hands. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just–” she sniffled. “You’re always so nice to me!” she wailed finally, flinging her arms around his neck and burying her head in his chest. She felt Jonathan stiffen, probably in very much a ‘oh shit, she’s crying what do I do’ type of way, before hesitantly raising his arms to rub her back.

“Okay, um. That’s–uh…it’s no problem?” he stuttered, patting her head awkwardly. Pressing her forehead into his chest, she sniffled, once, taking in a deep, shaking breath–owwww, it hurt to do that–before pulling back enough that she could wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. As quick as the sudden bout of emotion had come it seemed to be gone.

“Sorry. I don’t–I don’t know where that came from.”

“It’s okay,” his hand was still resting warmly on her back. “Sure you’re alright?”

“Mhm,” blinking, she looked around the room in a daze. “Not nauseous anymore either.”

“That’s good.”

“Well,” she sighed–again, ow–and ran a hand through her hair. “That was weird.”

“Probably just post-op blues.”

“Probably.”

“How’s the pain?”

“More than yesterday, but not that bad.”

“Tomorrow it will likely be the worst.”

“Mm,” she laid her head on his chest. “More fun to look forward to. What were you reading?”

He lifted the book so that she could see the cover.

“Oooo. Nice.”

“Want me to read it to you?” he asked, opening it back up to his bookmark, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

“Actually, yeah.”

Cheek warm thanks to being pillowed against his chest, she let the sound of his voice settle her, working like a balm over her aching bones.

∗ ∗ ∗

Just as Jonathan had predicted, she woke up on the third day in agony.

“Jonathan,” she barely managed to get his name out, nearly doubling over. He was still asleep beside her. Whimpering, she pawed at his chest desperately. “Jonathan.”

He woke up fast, asleep one moment and all but shooting up, eyes open wide, in the next.

“What is it?” he bent over her, hands cupping her face.

“Hurts,” was all she managed to get out. He was up and out of bed in a second, rushing to the kitchen and returning with another sleeve of crackers, the bottle of painkillers, and a glass of water.

“Here,” he gave her the crackers first, shaking a pill out into his palm as she shoved a few in her mouth. While she swallowed it down he checked her incisions under her loose pajama shirt, then climbed back in beside her. “It’s okay,” he soothed, gathering her up into his chest, letting her cling to him as they both waited for the pain to subside. “It’s okay.”

But she could hear his heart hammering fast as a hummingbird’s wings in his chest, and she couldn’t help but wonder which of them in that moment was more scared.

∗ ∗ ∗

She managed to sleep through most of the third day, and woke up on the fourth feeling much better. And while Jonathan still insisted on doing most things for her–cooking food, fetching water, and god forbid he catch her trying to lift something even moderately heavy–she felt far more capable than she had the previous few days. The pain in her belly and shoulders was manageable, and even the feelings of exhaustion and weakness were starting to abate. A good thing, too, since once the weekend was over he would have to go back to work. She still had another week off to recover, but she would have to fend for herself while he was away during the day.

That shouldn’t be a problem, so long as she continued to improve.

∗ ∗ ∗

He was going to drive her insane.

Okay, more insane than she already was.

Because despite her consistent improvements each day that passed from the surgery, Jonathan wouldn’t let her do anything. No matter how much she insisted that she felt fine, he insisted on remaining close to her, checking her vitals regularly and fussing over every little thing.

“What are you doing up?”

Oh, come on.

“I was just getting a glass of water–”

“You’re supposed to be resting,” he swooped over, plucking the empty glass from her hands.

“I don’t think that walking the three steps from the living room to the kitchen is gonna cause me to keel over, babe.”

He pointed to the couch sternly. “Go lay back down.”

“Okay, okay, geez,” she shuffled back to the couch, plopping down and pouting. “Dr. Crane is mean.”

“He wouldn’t need to be if Dr. Sullivan wasn’t known for overexerting herself.”

“Oh my god, that was one time–”

“You tried to go to the kickboxing gym one day after you were diagnosed with a concussion.”

Huffing dramatically, she pulled her blanket back up to her chin. “Your bedside manner needs work.”

“My bedside manner is excellent.”

“Jonathan, we did our residencies together. I’ve seen you interact with difficult patients.”

He came over to the couch with her water. “Name one time that I was unreasonable when working with patients.”

“You prescribed high dosage sedatives for a woman because she kept flirting with you!”

“Nes, that was you.”

She blinked. “Oh, was it? Damn.”

He chuckled and kissed her forehead.

“Okay, but I know it was you who gave one of the patients a hallucinogen because he sneezed on you.”

Jonathan shrugged. “I was just teaching him basic manners. You cover your nose when you sneeze, everyone knows that.”

Vanessa snorted out a giggle, reaching back to cup his face and kiss him chastely on the lips. When they parted, she huffed, blowing a raspberry. He raised a questioning eyebrow. “I’m bored.”

“You have your book.”

“I finished it already,” she grumbled, glancing at the well loved copy of ‘Salem’s Lot on the coffee table. “I miss work.”

“You remember what the surgeon said…”

“Yeah, I know. I know,” she slumped back onto the couch, looking around her at the pile of finished books, her sketchbook open to a half finished, detailed still life drawing of a pumpkin, and the dozens of tiny little paper origami cranes, boats, and flowers scattered around her. Jonathan slipped carefully into the spot beside her on the couch, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. She snuggled into his side, pouting.

“Maybe…when I go back to the asylum, I can bring you some of your case notes to work on,” he suggested. Vanessa tilted her head up to look at him.

“Really?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

Stretching up, she pecked his cheek. “Thank you.”

He looked down, blushing and stuttering. It was cute how even after how long they’d been together, he still got so flustered sometimes when she showered him with her affection.

∗ ∗ ∗

The discomfort was mostly minimal now. She didn’t need the painkillers prescribed by the doctor anymore, ibuprofen more than sufficient in treating her pain. Assuming that everything remained fine, she would probably be able to return to work the next week.

Jonathan had gone back to work two days ago, confident enough that she could fend for herself for the hours he was gone without dying. Though he’d still been all nervous and jittery about leaving her alone the first day. Truth be told, she’d missed him when he was gone, insistent fussing and all.

He’d brought her some of her case notes to work on, finally providing a bit of relief from the boredom of being bound to the couch all hours of the day.

She had her legs curled up underneath her, pen twirling absentmindedly in her hand as she looked over the papers spread out in front of her. At the sound of keys sliding into the door her head perked up, lips tugging upwards as Jonathan pushed his way into the apartment, clicking the locks into place behind him and dropping his briefcase down by the door before coming over to the couch to kiss her.

“Hi.”

“Hey. Is it raining outside?” she asked, taking note of the slight dampness coating his hair.

“Only a little,” he lifted the bag he had dangling from one hand. “I brought food.”

Stacking her notes into a neat pile, she tossed them onto the coffee table. “I love you.”

Jonathan chuckled, placing another kiss to her cheek and leaving the food with her to be unwrapped as he shucked off his suit jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair, loosening his tie and tossing that away as well, rolling up his shirt sleeves to his elbows. Vanessa bit her lip, silently lamenting that she was banned from any funny business for at least another week or so.

As soon as he was on the couch, she handed him his food, settling her own container from the bag in her lap and scooting closer to him, cozying up to his side.

“I missed you,” her lips pressed insistently to his cheek, where a dimple sometimes appeared when he smiled. Jonathan shot her a look that she could only describe as soft, leaning into her touch.

“I missed you too,” his hand stroked over her thigh. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. Still a little tired, I guess.”

“Hm,” he hummed, reclining back against the couch, pulling her with him until she was nestled close to his side.

“How was work?” she asked around a mouthful of her pasta, twisting another helping carefully around her fork.

“Alright. A few people asked about you. Johnson had another episode and almost swallowed his own tongue. They’re keeping him in the infirmary for a while.”

“Oh, well. At least he didn’t die, the paperwork would have been a nightmare.”

His snicker sounded low and deep in his chest, hand stroking through the long, loose locks of her hair. They switched on the TV, eating in comfortable silence as they listened to the gentle hum of the voices from the speakers. Containers of food discarded, she ended up with her arms wrapped around his ribs, her head pillowed on his chest as they just lounged, eyelids growing heavy.

“Jonathan?” she poked him suddenly in the shoulder, rousing him from the slight doze he had slipped into.

“What?”

Tracing nonsense patterns into his chest, she shrugged. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

His thumb stroked along her jaw, tilting her head upwards so that he could peck her on the lips.

“Always.”

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Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

#not an update #vanessa sullivan #vanessa sullivan x jonathan crane #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x oc #the dark knight t #bedside manner #my ocs #my fanfiction

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outpost51 · 1 year ago

Note

💙 make'a my heart hurt a little

Snippet Asks

🫡 you got it, my dude.

💙share a snippet where a character falls out of love a little

from child of the stars:

After the adults helped them set up a big nest on the floor with pillows and blankets and couch cushions, and everyone had been tucked in and given good-night snuggles — which he definitely didn’t need, he was six, not three, but Mama needed them to sleep, and she had a very important job so she needed all the sleep she could get — someone tapped his nasal plates until he woke up.

“We missed you on Thessia,” Jane whispered.

He… didn’t know what to do with that.

“Tarquin said your mom said you were sick.”

“I was,” Garrus lied.

Jane’s teeth flashed in the dark. “You’re a bad liar, Garrus Vakarian.”

His neck heated.

It was hard to make out her expression in the dark, Garrus didn’t have his adult low-light vision yet, but her teeth vanished and a line appeared between the patches of baby-down on her face. “Did I scare you at the tide pool?”

“No,” he huffed. “I’m not scared of anything.”

“Are all turians this bad at fibbing, or just you?”

Jane’s voice took on the same lilt it did when she was teasing her brother. Her teeth didn’t come out, though, and the line between her down-patches deepened more the longer he went without answering.

Garrus reached out and carefully pressed the pad of his finger over the line, rubbing at it until it disappeared. He wasn’t sure why he did it. He certainly hadn’t asked to touch her, and Mama said to always ask before touching someone.

It was only fair, then, that he let her gently grab his mandibles and flap them in and out.

Her mouth curved upwards at the corners. He poked the little divots that formed on the sides of her face. “Dimples,” she whispered. When Garrus connected the divots with a few of the other spots dusted across her nose, she snorted. “Freckles.” Out of curiosity, he traced the down-patches above her eyes. “Eyebrows.”

Jane drew a stripe across his face with her finger, then one down each of his mandibles. “Why don’t you get to wear blue like your mom?”

“I haven’t earned it yet,” he whispered back. “I’ll get the paint when I come home from Basic.”

“Did Mr. Arterius go to Basic?”

Garrus lowered his browplates. “He’s a General, Jane, show some respect.”

She shook her head. “Not the big one,” she huffed. “The other one. The one that does magic like me.”

He froze.

The crease returned between her eyebrows.

Garrus rubbed at it again. Her smiling went away when the crease appeared. The crease meant the opposite of happy, and he didn’t like being the reason it was there, even if they were just at war. They weren’t soldiers yet. They didn’t have to hurt each other. “Agent Arterius?”

Jane shrugged. Her mouth curved down.

He poked at the spots where her dimples were. Maybe if he pressed in hard enough — but still gentle, humans were soft, Captain Victus had warned them not to tackle each other too hard — the smiling would come back, like a button on a remote. “He’s a Spectre,” Garrus explained. “Before that, he was a Cabal. I don’t think Cabals have Basic.”

“Is that why he doesn’t get to have stripes like General Arterius? Cap’n Victus said they’re brothers.”

It was Garrus’s turn to shrug. At least one gesture transcended species.

“What’s a Cabal?”

That one, he knew. “That’s where the biotics go. They’re too unpredictable. Dangerous.”

“Like Agent Arterius.”

“Like you.”

He shouldn’t have said that.

The crease came back.

She batted away his hand and rolled over.

#my fic #sneeps.txt #helix series

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tehuti88-heritage · 2 months ago

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My Dad, Part 12

(June 25, 2024)

While I was sitting in bed very early in the morning June 25 2023 (I'm a nightowl), before it was time for me to put out a bit more food & say goodnight to the black cat if it showed up, I thought I heard a noise from Dad's room. I'd taken to closing my door when going in my room so the noises I made wouldn't wake him if he managed to fall asleep, he was always getting up & going to bed so constantly. I opened my door & peeked out, reasoning that if he needed me he would whisper something, yet I heard nothing from his room, so went back into mine, shutting the door. Not long after I heard Ma go into his room & start talking, so looked out again. The light was on...Dad was lying half on the bed & half on the floor. His bed--a patched-together conglomeration of mattresses, pillows, cushions, blankets, foam pads, a wooden board--had fallen apart. I'd heard it, but not knowing what it was, went back in my room. -_-

While Dad was pulling himself back into bed following a bathroom trip, apparently the bed had slid apart like a loose sandwich, spilling its guts & him to the floor. Ma was trying to get him up. I felt so awful that I'd heard it but hadn't helped (why hadn't he called me?--even Ma heard him); I managed to climb over the mound of padding & help to get him upright. Ma helped him to the walker & out of the room to sit on the couch, then came back & we both looked at the confusing mess & set to work trying to put the bed back together the best we could.

It...wasn't easy, at all. No matter how we positioned anything there were awful lumps & bumps & how would he sleep on it with his sore back? We got hotter & more frustrated the more time went on though I remember my mother made a really weird comment: "Someday you can tell your kids about this." Weird, because I have never & will never have a relationship or kids.

I can only guess this was a strange attempt at humor in a frustrating situation.

She went out to ask Dad how he was holding up. He said he was doing okay, & it was all right if we didn't get the bed back together just right that night. We figured we'd have to fix it up better in coming days. I myself ended up getting so fed up I quit & went outside, later than planned, to feed the black cat. We got the bed somewhat back in order, Dad returned to bed, everyone went back to sleep. (Well, mostly.)

In the morning, Dad seemed to regain a bit of appetite--on one day he had me cut him up some celery stalks & get him some chocolate milk--though I noticed he ended up spitting out most of the celery after chewing it. He also barely touched a simple sandwich I made him. I started getting frustrated again with his lack of progress eating & drinking, how was he to get better if he didn't try harder?

He seemed to be in a lot of pain. Mostly his back. I thought perhaps the walker, which was made for me, was too short for him & he was slouching over it too much. Whatever the cause, I suspected it was making him too depressed to eat. And just as the previous day, he kept getting up & sitting back down. At night he kept going between the bedroom & the bathroom though he didn't seem to do much in the latter. He couldn't sleep. I finally offered him the Trazodone...as expected, he refused it.

I just can't understand a person who would prefer to put themselves--& their family--through such things, rather than just accept a bit of help. But then again that was how we'd gotten here in the first place. It was just too damn much to tell the doctor he still had that UTI. That he started feeling sick while mowing the lawn in the heat. So many chances to have avoided this, all missed.

Will share more as the days go on.

#grief #loss #death

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ayamturd · 4 years ago

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cuddles│technoblade

summary: you want cuddles, but techno’s busy; laughs turn insecure, yet love overpowers it all

prompt: “Why won’t you let me love you?”

warnings: none, only fluff

pairing: in-game c!technoblade

a/n: this is my entry for @mayasimagines‘ 600 writing event!! huge props and congratulatory once more, they’re such a talented and creative writer (pls go give them love!)

i was really tempted to make it angst, i won’t lie lol (also techno visual based off SAD-ist design cause pretty pig make yam go brrrr)

wc: (1.4k) - m.list

“Techno.”

Tilting his head to glance behind him, Technoblade’s ear twitched once spotting you. You were dressed comfortable from the cold weather despite the roaring fire besides him. Holding a pillow you carried from bed, you rested your chin above it while clutching the soft fabric close.

He turned back to his work before addressing you, mixing the most recent ingredients he gathered the same day in a small brewing pot. The potion glistened in the dark of the night, the concoction dyed a subtle grey as it was unfinished.

“What?”

You padded closer to him, and with him sat low at the work bench, you leaned onto him from behind, resting against his back while laying on his shoulder. He barely moved from your current position on him.

“Cuddle.” He gave a small noise to indicate that he heard you, but continued to stir his potion. Being the patient person you were, you waited until the color slowly shifted its hue as a sign it was finished. Setting the spoon aside, Techno grabbed the nearest rag and began cleaning his hand.

“I’m busy,” he murmured, still distracted as he looked back to his current elixir on the stand. You frowned from his words, and as if he could sense it, he tried to reassure you. “But I’ll try for later if I can.”

That wasn’t good enough, you thought. With the pillow trapped between the two of you, you moved your arms around him and held his torso, hooking your hands together to secure him.

“But… cuddles?”

In spite of your attempts, Techno disregarded the small and childlike tone you used. You started to pout from his lack of response and narrowed your eyes in annoyance. Moments passed without an answer, and you lifted your head back up the stairs while still settled close to his neck, the idea of going to bed alone making you discourage to make the trek back.

With a slight sigh, you let go of him completely and hugged the pillow again, gathering yourself before heading towards the fireplace. Picking up the disregarded throw blanket on the armchair, you dropped the pillow close to the fire and plopped yourself on it, crossing your legs while wrapping the blanket around you comfortably.

The warmth from the fire would have to do in place of Technoblade’s body heat, and with your backed turned towards it, you leaned onto your placed palms to observe him.

After a few minutes, Techno couldn’t ignore your staring any longer, sighing and turning towards you. He had his hand against his knee with the other rested on his table, twisting his body.

“What are you doin’?”

Slightly smirking from his question, you took his appearance, it being the first time you could fully saw him with his attention on you for the first time that day. His hair was disheveled, yet fluffy as it encompassed his face, like a halo to emphasize his handsome features.

Though white and sometimes argued empty, you loved staring into his eyes. They always expressed more than what he was willing to voice, and although they currently were squinted from confusion, they were filled with a charm most wouldn’t see from him.

You looked him up and down, noting his casual wear and the way he rolled his sleeves up, before concentrating on his face again.

“I wanna be near you, you’ve been busy all day.”

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head and shifting his body completely to face you, resting his elbows on both his knees and tilting his head down at you.

“You sure are bein’ clingy, huh?” Your dazed grin dropped immediately from his teasing, and the action made Techno laugh loudly, it devolving to his classic snickering.

Reaching behind you, you snatched the chair cushion and chucked it his way. Technoblade obviously caught the aimed projectile mid throw but was weak to his current laughing fit.

You pushed yourself promptly off the ground, and with a roll of your eyes, began walking away. Techno reached out to grab you, his laugh fading with a big smile.

“Wait, wait-” You stepped back before his hand could nab you, and crossed your arms at him.

“No, leave me alone. You’re being mean.”

He chuckled, and stood up, his height in full as he towered over you. Shrieking from his playful glare, he bounded for you while you tried to run. You were quickly caught and yelled loudly once picked up off the ground.

With his hands on your waist, he spun you fast, laughing with you and pulling you close to him. His breath tickled your neck while his tusks rubbed gently against your hair. He continued to spin you relentlessly, your feet pathetically dangling helplessly below.

Eventually you grew tired and dizzy from the notion, shouting out in giggles for him to stop. He paused from your protests, and without warning, threw you up in the air.

You gasped from the unexpected action, voice caught in your throat from the sudden motion and the fear that gripped you. Before you knew what was happening, you were back in his arms, instead held bridal style within his arms.

Gripping onto his dress shirt and with wide eyes, you looked up at his proud grin. What a show off.

You smacked him, though not hard, and he laughed again. Wrapping your arms his neck, you laughed with him, smothering yourself into his chest and breathing in his scent. You really did miss him today, and with his hands holding you, you melted from the close contact.

While your laughing waned, his did not. You stared up at him like before, watching how beautiful he was in the dim lighting against the crackling fire and the open starry darkness of the night in contrast. You adored him for his openness with you, you loved him for being him around you.

Tenderly, you put a hand on his cheek, turning his focus onto you. You lifted yourself up in his arms, and ever so slowly, leaned up to kiss him. Before you could, however, he turned his head away, the action small yet noticeable to your acute senses and knowing eyes.

You pouted lightheartedly, hanging your head back dramatically as a joke.

“Why won’t you let me love you?”

Techno became silent, swallowing a harsh inhale from the innocent and obviously meaningless tease. Despite the previous laughs, the room’s atmosphere changed, a now empty and tense space.

Your feigned heartbreak-act softened, though the frown remained in place. You knew what he was doing; he was going too deep in thought and over analyzing, letting the voices reign control over insecurities and fear. No matter how strong or vicious he may seem to others, you knew him and that essentially, he was a man who was too anxious and too doubtful of himself for his own good.

With a comforting smile, you called his name, bringing him back after briefly falling into the void.

“Hey love?”

Blinking repeatedly to regain control, Techno snapped his head at you, your voice calm and firm in spite all that he was forced to hear. He hummed as to answer, and you cupped his cheeks before he could escape your attempted kiss again.

He was still for a few seconds, before becoming undone and lifting you closer towards his lips, fingers curling tightly on you as to express the uproar of emotions he held for you.

You pulled yourself up, hand reaching into his hair while the other remained kindly to his light stubble. Techno supported you further by shifting you, his arm now against your back that cradled you into a sitting position.

The kiss was tender and passionate, yet more gentle than one would assume. All you could feel was him and him alone, nothing breaking the pure moment of bliss and true pleasure between the two of you.

You pulled away suddenly, while fast, but to express anything left unsaid between your shared acts.

“Love you,” you whispered, still out of breath from the loss of air. Techno couldn’t help the adoring gaze he showed for you, his own voice bright from the high of your taste. He met your forehead halfway, and closed his eyes while speaking so closely to you.

“Heh, and I you, darlin’.”

“Cuddles now?”

Techno nodded, using his hands to carry your thighs as they moved to wrap around his torso instead. He walked you both towards the stairway to your bedroom, his hold on you never faltering against him.

“Yeah, cuddles now.”

#technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #technoblade x gn!reader #technoblade imagines #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #dream smp x reader #dream smp x you #dreamsmp x reader #dsmp x reader

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aiiwa · 3 years ago

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KISS FOR ME — YELENA AND PIECK.

— yelena x reader x pieck.

genre: smut, 18+.

warnings: vagina having reader, no pronouns used for reader, scissoring, slight overstimulation, squirting, exhibitionism, yelena calls herself ‘owner’ at the end. if i miss anything please let me know.

word count: 1.6k.

— a/n: first ever fic for aot and it’s brought from me wanting to ✂️ pieck heheheh. be nice to me please 😫🙏🏽. reblogs are always apreciated. thank you to my precious besties @jeanbeaux n @asahiswrld for beta-ing for me <3333.

yelena’s hooded gaze was gluttonous in the way she drank in the sight of her dolls, sitting bare and pretty just for her.

dark eyes burned a trail down your skin. it started from your nape, lingering on the curve of your breasts before sliding down the valley; admiring your tummy, the dip of your waist, the slope of your hips. once her stare settled between the plush of your thighs, your skin lit ablaze, heat shooting straight down to your aching cunt - a silver string of your slick dripping onto the dampened bed sheet.

the corner of her thin lips pull upward in a smirk.

beside you was pieck, who fared no better than you under the power of yelena. you could almost see the small goosebumps prickling her pale skin; the warmth of her small shoulder brushing against yours was familiar and comforting.

“babies.” yelena cooed, calling for you and pieck’s attention. “my pretty babies.”

she makes a show of stripping off her suit jacket, hanging it over the back of the crimson love seat, before haphazardly dropping onto the cushion. spreading her long legs wide, your breath hitches at the way her beige pants tighten around her strong thighs, defining the shape of her taut muscles. everything about her demeanour is calm, casual in the way her fingers undo the first few buttons of her white shirt.

“why don’t you give each other a kiss for me?” the lilt in her tone covers her command as a suggestion. leaning back in her seat, placing her elbows on the armrests, you and pieck react quickly.

turning to face each other, the pink pout of pieck’s lips meet your own eagerly. with your hands on her waist, you pull her flush against you as her own small hand holds the back of your head. you can’t help but moan into her mouth as your tongues brush against each other sensually, hands roaming as pieck sucks on your tongue gently.

the dissatisfied tsk of yelena breaks the spell of your make out.

slightly dazed, you move back from pieck slightly. both of you wearing the same worried look. neither would you two ever want to displease your love.

“yelena…?” you whisper her name out, hesistant.

pieck follows your lead. “is this not what you want?”

“no.” the word alone sends a shiver down your spine. yelena leans back into the chair, stare hard and jaw tilted up. “i want to see those pretty pussies of yours kiss.”

the whimper that escapes pieck is unwillingly loud, coloured with need. your own is caught in your throat, the throbbing of your cunt taking over your mind and body.

a flurry of pets and whines has pieck laying on her back, inky locks spread over the pillow underneath her head, with her thighs parted invitingly. you’re enchanted by the juices leaking from her tight little hole, smeared across her inner thighs and the trimmed stripe of dark curls just above her clit. and when you reach out to brush along her slit, coating the pad of your thumb in her arousal, she’s quick to grab at your wrist.

“don’t tease, y/n.” pieck hisses, pleading eyes looking up at you. “please.”

yelena chuckles lowly from her seat, already enjoying the show. she always loved how desperate the two of would get. especially when things got vocal.

shaking pieck’s lithe fingers from your wrist, you shuffle closer to her; knees dipping into the mattress, as you hold on to her toned leg, sliding your own to the side of her hip - slotting yourself to straddle her almost sideways.

with no hesitation, you lower yourself against her testingly, enticing a harmony of your shared moans.

“f-fuck.” you gasp, throwing your head. pressed against her, the sensation of her warm, wet cunt against your own starts to fog your mind.

“y/n.” pieck’s whines are begging. “move, y/n…your pussy feels so good against mine.”

“listen to her, baby doll.” yelena pipes up, completely relaxed in her seat. “kiss your pussies together even more for me, won’t you?”

the praise from pieck and yelena’s words has you rolling your hips, gliding your pussy over her silky folds, gasping each time your clits catch on to each other’s. it’s extremely lewd, the sloppy sound of your cunts smushed together, slick mixing and dribbling down your thighs. the sensation has you completely intoxicated.

“mmm.” moaning loudly, you caress pieck’s leg in your hold. leaning in slightly to press a gentle kiss to her ankle, you smile against her skin, licking and grazing your teeth along the soft flesh.

“shit-“ she curses, arching into you more. grinding upwards to meet your thrusts.

you feel her hand reach out to touch you, grabbing onto your hips and digging her fingers into you bruisingly - urging you for more.

angling your head back slightly, mid-thrust, you catch a glimpse of yelena’s form. her nails carve crescent moon shapes into the armrest, tell-tale signs of her restraint to not surge towards her two lovers. no matter how much you and pieck would play with each other in front of her, yelena would never yield until the end.

and best of all, she never touched herself. pleasing her was a job left strictly for her precious dolls.

the way you kiss you and pieck’s pussies together in slow, meaningful strokes is dizzying. and it starts to become too much, too soon. with your swollen clit sliding against her mound, and with pieck’s pushed against your soppy slit, edging into the entrance of your tight hole; the two of you become a mess of mewls.

“hnn, y/n.” the way her angel lips moans your name is sinful. “baby please, wanna cum.”

your pants are louder, choking on your moans as you slide yourself over her cunt harder, faster; that you both can’t help but cry out as you reach your peaks.

“oh my, ah, f-fuck-!”

“‘m cumming, y/n, oh-!”

you still on top of pieck, tongue lolled and thighs tensed, your pussy clenching around nothing as you come undone. swearing you can feel the pulsing of pieck’s cunt in time with your own, she squirms underneath you in a fit of pleasure, eyes rolled back as she whines through her orgasm.

“fuck me.” yelena’s voice is muffled by the sound of your own racing heart; but the proud tone in her voice is all you need to turn and face her.

“w-were we…good for you?”

“so good, baby. so fucking perfect.”

sighing contently, you press your forehead to pieck’s leg still in your hold. smiling, your body felt amazing as if you were floating; you don’t even have time to react as pieck flips the two of you over with practiced ease.

“p-pieck-!”

flat on your back, pieck makes fast work pushing your knees against your chest; squeezing the fat of your thighs as she presses the side of her calves to your hips. with your own glistening pussy exposed, pieck saddles on the backs of your thighs, and when she rolls her hips, you jolt as your puffy clits rub against each other.

“fuck, yes-!”

you’re choking on your moans, mouth parted as gasps huff out and drool pools from the corner. you’re absolutely entranced by the way pieck’s full breasts bounce in your face, how her tummy rolls as she ruts into you.

a thin sheen of sweat lays over your heated skin. and when you find your voice, you’re calling out her name over and over like a prayer.

“pieck, pieck, pieck, pieck!”

she consumes every part of your being - yelena’s keen eyes watching blocked from your mind. you even miss the damp patch darkening the crotch of her beige pants.

pieck rocks against you hard, too fast for your sensitive cunt; your bodies tremble as the waves of your orgasm bubbling in your tummy threaten to burst at any moment. it’s when your throbbing clit draws against her dripping entrance once, twice, thrice that you fall apart completely.

your eyes widen, white stars dotting your vision, as your release squirts from your pulsating hole.

“ah, ah, haaa~”

despite the way your mouth jars open in a silent cry, pieck continues to jack rabbit hump your poor pussy. she pants heavy, dark locks stuck to her forehead until she reaches her own high - spraying her own cum all over you.

“ooh, fuck, yes…”

riding out your highs together, you’re lost in the overstimulation; incoherent harmonies of your babbles are the only sound heard in the room. when you finally break apart from each other, pieck falling back across from you, your body trembles from the after effects - your slick drooling from your twitching cunt.

the slow clapping pulls you and pieck from your post-orgasm daze, and through your half-lidded gaze, you watch as yelena stands from her seat and approaches you two.

“such good babies.” the tall woman praises, leaning over your spent bodies. “so messy too, hm?”

a long finger trails down your wet tummy, swirling the mixture of you and pieck’s cum, before moving down to dip into your pussy. the mutual gasp and keen shared between you and pieck, tells you that yelena is doing the same to her.

“i love watching my dolls kiss.” yelena’s finger slowly pumps in and out of you, chuckling lowly as you clamp around the digit desperately. “seeing your cunts kiss and cum all over each other, fuck, it drives me insane.”

hastily, yelena yanks her finger out of you and pieck; the two of you crying out at the lost of contact, blinking up at her.

“shut up.”

harsh silence invades the room. yelena smiles warmly at your obedience, before grabbing at you and pieck’s hands, bringing them to brush over her crotch and grip onto her leather belt.

“now, you’ll be my perfect dolls and make your owner feel good, won’t you?”

AOT NSFW TAG LIST: @babyworld @ebiharachan @itadorey @lavenderpup @peachyaeger @r-raiinah @sanemiya @savantsoulfinder @sunkithbo + form linked on navi to join tag list!

ASKED TO BE TAGGED: @curapiikt @kure-san

#aot smut #attack on titan smut #yelena smut #pieck smut #yelena x reader #pieck x reader #aot x reader #yelena x reader x pieck #yelena x pieck #hanimehub

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animeomegas · 4 years ago

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Omega!Shouto Pregnancy Emotions

Anon: This is a request take it if you like haha-Okay how is Todoroki (Shoto) while being prego? Does he get super sexual? Insecure? Happy? Moody? Scared? What does he feel and how do you react to those feelings?

(Hmm, okay, here are some of the primary emotions for Shouto during pregnancy. I hope you enjoy~)

Warnings: None

Some of the main emotions that impact Shouto Todoroki during his pregnancy:

Pained:

Because of Endeavour’s less than stellar parenting style and discriminatory beliefs towards omegas, Shouto’s reproductive system isn’t especially healthy. For that reason, some parts of pregnancy are more painful for Shouto than they would be for most other omegas.

One of the impacts is that the doctors recommend a c-section delivery. Male omegas have a higher risk of needing a c-section than female omegas in general, but Shouto’s hips and pelvis are not very flexible, so he’s at an even higher risk. His hips are not used to shifting, something that he should have experienced gradually starting from teenagerhood but did not because of the super strong suppressants he was on.

So, while he’s pregnant, the following things cause him a lot of pain:

Stomach aches – his stomach is flush against his uterus which is not behaving normally and giving him some problems. It upsets his stomach and it’s something that lasts for his entire pregnancy.

Lower back aches – his hips do try to widen in anticipation of delivering a baby, but it doesn’t work very well for him and is quite painful.

His chest – the doctors are originally unsure as to whether Shouto is going to be able to breast feed. They give him some extra hormones to stimulate milk production in the hopes that it will help. It does help actually, and Shouto is able to breast feed, but the hormones make his chest very swollen for most of his pregnancy. This is common in late pregnancy of course, but for Shouto it’s a little earlier than that and a little more jarring.

You felt helpless as you watched your mate curl up on the couch in pain, knowing there wasn’t anything you could do to fix it. He’d been having stomach and back pains all day and had to come home from work because they had been so bad. You’d also come home from work to pick him up and take care of him. You sighed to yourself as you looked down at him. He was only three months along, but it was looking like he might have to stop working sooner rather than later. Shouto would be miserable if he was forced to make that decision, but there was nothing either of you could do about it.

Shouto’s huff of frustration pulled you out of your thoughts. He was fidgeting with the heating pad that was wrapped around the right side of his tummy. He had been having some trouble balancing his temperature since he got pregnant and he couldn’t warm his stomach by himself. Losing quirk control wasn’t uncommon during pregnancy but having to use a heating pad did make Shouto embarrassed at first.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, kneeling down onto the floor beside him.

“Fine,” came Shouto’s muffled voice from where he had his face buried in a cushion.

“You don’t look fine,” you teased gently, linking you fingers with that hand that Shouto was using to fiddle with the heating pad. “Is something wrong with the heating pad?”

��No,” he huffed. “It’s just too small.”

Without missing a moment, you replied with,

“That’s what she said.”

“Who said what?” Shouto questioned, eyebrows furrowed.

You snorted at the joke going over his head. He was never good at understanding innuendo humour.

“It doesn’t matter, my love. But the heating pad is too small? Is your back hurting too?”

Shouto nodded, nuzzling into the cushion and messing up his hair as he did it. You smoothed his hair back down with a hand.

“I know it only needs to go on my right side, but I still can’t get it to sit right.”

You hummed in understanding.

“You want me to go and get a second one from the shop? Or a hot water bottle or something? Unfortunately, I’m not sure we have anything else in the house.”

Shouto hesitated, seeming unsure.

“I really don’t mind going, this is my fault after all,” you joked, placing a hand on his small bump.

“You’re warm,” Shouto muttered.

“I’m warm?”

Shouto blushed and didn’t respond. A teasing grin settled onto your face.

“Do you want me to lay behind you?”

Shouto nodded vigorously but didn’t make eye contact.

You agreed, quickly gathering some water and snacks to put within arm’s reach, before you awkwardly climbed behind Shouto and pulled him flush against your chest to spoon him. You started to rub his stomach to settle him.

Shouto relaxed under your attention and closed his eyes.

“Try to get some sleep, Shouto.”

Embarrassed:

Shouto doesn’t really suffer from insecurity, but he does get quite embarrassed sometimes at the new way his body is now working.

One very embarrassing thing that I’ve already mentioned is that his control over his powers weakens for the duration for his pregnancy.

During late pregnancy, hiccups involve accidentally setting objects in the house on fire. Shouto can put them out very quickly, but he still finds the fact that his iron clad control has degraded to be very embarrassing.

Another embarrassing thing for Shouto is the limitations on his independence.

Eventually, Shouto can’t put his own shoes on, or clean himself properly and he has to rely on his Alpha for all of it.

(Well, at first, his chosen strategy is just to keep trying by himself until he basically gives his alpha an aneurysm when he almost hurts himself by accident.)

Shouto gets moody and embarrassed when he has to ask for help for small things.

But by far the thing that embarrasses him the most, is his weak pregnancy bladder.

Sneezing becomes a dangerous game for him between the bladder and the spontaneous fire or ice usage.

At one point, Shouto refuses to have sex with his alpha for a couple of weeks because he’s too nervous that he’ll…er… well, lose control.

To deal with all the embarrassment, Shouto’s alpha needs to just downplay any incidents as much as possible, even going so far as to pretend not to notice certain things. This would go a long way in reducing Shouto’s anxiety and embarrassment. Also, indulging him when he says he wants to stay at home because he’s embarrassed will help him a lot.

To summarise, pregnancy weakens the control he has over himself in many ways, and Shouto becomes very embarrassed when he’s reminded of that.

Unfortunately for Shouto, pregnancy being horribly embarrassing is a fact of life.

Clingy:

It is very common for pregnant omegas to feel a lot more possessive and clingier with their alphas.

Hormones are all over the place, and omegas are technically at their most vulnerable (barring heats) so it is a very normal instinct to want to be around the person who their instincts consider as the safest and most able to protect them and their unborn pup.

Shouto is no exception. He pouts when you have to leave the house. He is not impressed at all if you come home with the scent of another omega clinging to your clothes, even if he knows the scent. He calls you about fifteen times on the days when you’re at work, mainly to ask when you’ll be back (even though he already knows), tell you innocuous things about his day, or ask you to pick something up from the shops on your way home.

Shouto is big on cuddling as well, and whenever you’re both in the house, he demands cuddles all the time. He’s a very minimalist nester and so he normally just throws on one of your hoodies and drags a pillow and a blanket onto the couch, before dragging you to lay with him.

(Shouto goes through so many films whilst he’s pregnant because he rarely gets off of the sofa and he likes to have a film playing while he lounges.)

Basically, everything feels better when his alpha is with him. All his alpha needs to do is make sure they’re with him as much as possible, especially in his third trimester, when he’s the most anxious and clingy. (Avoiding getting too close to other omegas is also probably a good idea. Pregnant omegas, including Shouto, can get very worked up about that.)

Your lunch break had just started, and like every other day for the past month, the second your lunch break started, your phone would ring. You picked up your phone in anticipation. Any second now…

Bzzzt. Bzzzt.

You smiled automatically as Shouto’s name popped up. You quickly swiped to answer and held it up to your ear.

“Hey, Sho, how’s your day going?”

“Good,” he answered, and you could distantly hear the shuffling of blankets as he rearranged himself on the sofa. “I finished the film Midoriya recommended today.”

“Oh, and how was it?”

“It was good but, I also finished the crisps you bought for me yesterday while I was watching it. Could you bring some more home tonight?”

“Uh huh, of course, baby,” you said, picking up a pen to jot ‘crisps for Sho’ at the top of your to-do list.

There was silence for a few moments as you listened to Shouto continue to shuffle around.

“When are you going to be back?”

“You know when,” you laughed gently. “Asking me isn’t going to make time go faster.”

Shouto whined into the phone, and you immediately sat up straighter. That wasn’t his normal reaction.

“Shouto? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I…” you could hear a small sniffle through the phone.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong, sweetheart? Do you want me to come home?”

“I… I’m sorry, you don’t have to come home, it’s okay.”

“Shouto, you’re freaking me out, tell me what’s going on?” you tried to keep your voice steady to soothe him, despite your own worries bubbling at the surface.

“No, it’s just that,” a small sob escaped him. “Your hoodie doesn’t smell like you anymore.”

You blinked for a moment before sagging in your chair in relief. It was pregnancy hormone induced crying, not emergency crying.

“It’s okay, Sho,” you cooed. “I’ll be home soon, and I’ll scent it as much as you want, I promise.”

“Hmm, okay…” he sniffed. “But come home quick, please.”

“I will, if we hang up now, I can work through my lunch break and head home early, sound good? Maybe you should watch another film and the time will go more quickly?”

“Okay… Goodbye…”

“Goodbye sweetheart, I love you and I’ll see you soon.”

#shouto todoroki #omega!shouto #omega!todoroki #alpha!reader #gn!reader #reader insert #abo #a/b/o #omegaverse #headcanons #mpreg #shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #scenario #pregnant todoroki

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lcksndkys · 4 years ago

Text

Pairing: JJK x reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: smut, fluff, tiny hint of angst

Word count: ~8k

Summary: Save a drum, bang a drummer.

Warnings: one tasteful semi-nude sext, brief flashback of male masturbation, discussions about conception, an unholy amount of nipple play, blowjob, fingering, pussy slapping with a dick (but like, romantically), unprotected sex within an established relationship, multiple orgasms, creampie

A/N: This is my first attempt at creative writing… ever. Borne from my horny imagination and a thirst dream, this piece is an epilogue of sorts. S/o to @jinpanman and @wwilloww for being the wind beneath my wings and the floaties around my arms. Also, big thanks to Willow who made the banner <3

There are two things you know are happening tonight. One: Beyond the Scene is out celebrating the completion of their newest EP. Two: your husband, the drummer of Beyond, is going to come home, high off the adrenaline of a successful night, and fuck you into oblivion. Your period tracking app that you both have been studiously monitoring over the last few months has notified you that you were going to be ovulating over the next couple of days.

You slip into one of Jungkook’s oversized cut-off tanks and a pair of crotchless black lace panties that you know he likes. Checking in the mirror, you see a generous view of side-boob due to the cut of his shirt and you turn around and decide to forgo bottoms entirely—they’ll be discarded soon anyways. Your husband may be out with the boys tonight, but you’re determined to wait up for him. It’s not that late after all. You roll over, pulling a bottle of lube from the nightstand and set it out for later.

Lying in your shared bed, you check your phone again, reading the last messages you sent to each other.

[9:51pm] Jungkook-ah: i’ll be home late babe. dont wait up. love you.

[9:54pm] You: … but i’m ovulating today. I want you.

You haven’t heard from him since. Tapping to the camera icon on your phone, you decide to send a little more encouragement. You quickly snap a photo of your torso covered in his shirt, making sure to give a tasteful glimpse of your ensemble.

[11:39pm] Jungkook-ah: fcuk. dont temnt meee idk when ill b home

You sigh. He's definitely drunk which means that even if he did come home soon, he’d be too wasted to finish the job, more likely to fall asleep seconds after washing up. Tossing your phone onto your pillow, you roll to Jungkook’s side of the bed. Breathing in his clean, slightly sweet scent, you let it comfort you as your eyes close. Your mind drifts off to the first time you ever saw Jungkook as a man.

Sprawled out on a twin sized bed, there was barely enough space for the two of you. Propped against the headboard and wearing nothing but a smile, he laced his fingers behind his head and cockily encouraged you to take pictures. “They’ll last longer,” he had said. Cheeky brat. You had instructed him to pleasure himself as you watched. “Tell me what you think of when you touch yourself, Koo” to which he replied, “You in my clothes with nothing on underneath”. He had whined, panting and desperate to hold off his climax with the hopes that he might get to feel you wrapped around him.

You made him promise that night would be a one off; an itch scratched. And above all, he wasn’t to speak of that night to anyone, especially his sister- your best friend. At the time, an emotional relationship was not something you were ready to pursue. And certainly not with someone so intimately linked to your inner circle. So when it happened again, and then again, you proposed an easy benefits-only relationship to which he quietly accepted. You didn’t know he had been secretly yearning for something you could not yet give him. Despite trying to push him and your emotions away, Jungkook persisted, and with time and patience, you let him into your heart and let him show you the meaning of true love.

With a love-sick smile plastered on your face, you drift off to sleep, plans for tonight all but forgotten.

_______________________________________________

Eyes still closed and hanging on to the quickly fading wisps of your dreams, you unconsciously feel around the sheets for your husband. When your hands come across nothing but layers of bedsheet and blankets and the lingering warmth of Jungkook’s body heat, you roll over seeking the comfort of his embrace.

Sitting up, you see that he must’ve moved you during the night towards your side of the bed before climbing in behind you. Realizing you’re still in his shirt and the sexy panties from last night, you huff out a groan of annoyance.

You get out of bed and make the short trek to your bathroom to wash up. Jungkook never missed an opportunity to “practice” baby making. The thought that he was avoiding a session in the sheets with you makes you press the bristles harshly against your teeth.

Upon returning to your bedroom, you see that at some point Jungkook had plugged your phone in to charge. You open up your app and double check that you’re still within short the ovulation window.

The shuffling of slippers alerts you to your husband elsewhere in your shared apartment. As you leave in search of him, you notice he had put the bottle of lube away.

Padding out towards the kitchen, you can hear the tinkling of dishware and cutlery. The smell of toast floats through the air as you spot Jungkook at the counter pouring his cereal into a bowl of milk. Endearing. You smile, remembering he once reasoned that adding cereal to milk ensures you won’t be left with any soggy bits.

Coming up behind him, he startles a little with your quiet arrival. You wrap your arms around his middle, pressing a light kiss between his shoulder blades, and nuzzling your face against the wide expanse of his back.

“I missed you last night, baby,” you coo.

Turning in your embrace, Jungkook wraps one arm around your shoulders and uses a pointer finger to gently tilt your head, aligning your mouth to his. He leans down to give you a sweet, chaste kiss in greeting before pulling away.

“I’m sorry I was out late. But I’ll make it up to you ok?”

“How about you make it up to me right now?” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively, stepping back from his grasp.

His eyes rake up and down your figure, pausing to take in the long expanse of skin showing from under his cut-off tank. You turn your torso slightly, lifting your arms up overhead to smooth back your bed head, allowing him a generous view of your tits through the large armholes. You smirk to yourself knowing this simple outfit is one of his favorites on you.

“- oh, fuck,” Jungkook breathes, feeling the beginnings of desire stir in his sleep pants.

“I was so ready for you last night,” you continue, planting your hands behind you on the kitchen counter opposite of Jungkook. With a hop, you sit yourself upon the cold hard surface and try not to cringe at the sudden change of temperature on your bare rump.

You beckon towards your husband with a crook of your finger.

“I even wore one of your favorites,” you purr. Slowly trailing a hand towards your hip you pull the hem of your—well, his—shirt up, exposing some of the black lace panties you had worn.

Jaw clenched and brow furrowed. You enjoy Jungkook’s rapt attention.

“Come closer” you plead.

When he shows no sign of approaching, you lean back onto your elbows and prop one foot onto the countertop. Parting your legs, you smile victoriously when Jungkook’s eyes drop immediately to your exposed core. Thank goodness for crotchless panties.

His throat constricts at the sight of your pussy, framed in black lace, and bared lewdly for him.

“Fuck,” he growls lowley. You watch his throat bob again swallowing down a moan. He looks from your eyes, to your lips, and down between your thighs. Cock hardening, his desire rises hot and heady at the sight of you glistening before him.

Seeing him grow in the unforgiving fabric of his grey sweatpants, you grin at his visceral reaction. “You know I’m ovulating, right?” You bring your other foot up onto the counter further spreading yourself out for him. “Fuck me, baby. Fill me up with your cum.” A little dirty talk was nearly always enough encouragement to get your husband started.

Doe eyes wide, he is torn between his carnal desires to ravish you on the countertop and his mounting emotional distress.

When your husband doesn’t immediately react to your proposition, you know something is wrong. You hop off the counter and come to wrap around him. Jungkook has always been a shy boy, and as he got older, grew into a reserved man. He had a small social circle, knowing first hand that some people had no qualms with using him for his services. He was the golden boy. Jungkook was good at things and always has been- drums, sports, computers, video games, writing music, singing, sex. Many people sought to use him and had gotten away with it. And at first, he was eager to please; to prove himself worthy of the attention. But it wasn’t long before he grew cautious and began to keep a selective few close, including you.

You've always seen him. And you see him now, eyes tight with emotion he's been holding back from you. He hasn't done that in years.

Your arousal from earlier has all but dried up, evaporated with the sense that something important is weighing on Jungkook.

"Do you need me to listen or find a solution?" you ask him.

"Listen" he replies softly.

You take his hand, leading him towards the couch. Sitting down, you part your legs pulling his back to your front. You wrap all four limbs around him and lay back to let his weight press the both of you into the cushions. His hands immediately go to stroke along the soft skin of your shins. You tuck your face into his nape, ghosting soft kisses along the skin available to you. Holding him against you, you feel Jungkook slowly melt, head leaning back against your shoulder. You know he’ll speak when he's ready.

“I just… Lately I’ve been feeling like you only want a specific part of me,” says Jungkook quietly. His hands go to tuck back some of his hair behind his ears- a nervous tell he's never been able to kick. "And I guess it kind of reminded me of the time from before we officially got together, ya know?"

You feel your heart crumble in your chest at his admission. At that time, you weren’t ready for what Jungkook wanted to give you, convinced that the age gap and BTS’s rising fame would ultimately lead to disaster. Thus you had pushed for a purely physical relationship. He had agreed mistakenly believing that having your body, but not your mind or heart, was better than not having you at all. He hoped that time and love would help you change your mind. Luckily for both of you, it did.

You want to say something to comfort him, but you remember he asked you to listen. You stay quiet, giving him a safe space to speak.

"And I know we're trying for a baby, but lately there's no intimacy when you make love to me. It's like once I finish, it's over and you push me away to lay with your legs up against the wall."

You feel his ribs expand as he takes a deep breath, and then another. In, then out.

"You know how important aftercare is to me," he continues. You do know. Jungkook is a romantic; being held and praised for a job well done has always been just as important as the actual act of sex for him. "And if you're just trying to fuck me, I don't know if I want it."

There's a few moments of pause.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to have sex?” you ask softly.

Jungkook’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “No! I mean- I want it, trust me, I want you. But the last few times, it felt like you just fucked me until I came.” Jungkook goans. “You didn’t even finish. Makes me feel like a bad lover."

You cringe remembering that the last time you had been intimate with your husband, you straddled him and then rode him fast and hard until he spilled his seed inside you. The whole ordeal lasted 3 minutes tops, and then you were rolling off him onto your back leaving him to clean up on his own.

Sensing he was finished, you start to apologize. “I had no idea you felt that way,” you start. “I never meant for you to feel that way. I’m sorry.”

“I just- I love you so much, and I would give anything to make you happy,” he says quietly. His hands continue to absentmindedly traverse the length of your legs.

Your hold around him tightens, a silent I love you.

“What do you wanna do today, baby? Today’s all about you,” you promise. You’re ready to give your husband the attention he craves.

“Anything?” Jungkook asks, craning his head back to meet your gaze.

“Mhmm.”

Jungkook smiles, pleased with your enthusiasm.

“I promise you I’ll give you a creampie, but can we please just play super smash bros first?”

Seeing the child-like wonder in your husband’s eyes, you can’t help but chuckle at him. Jungkook has always been easy to please and competitive to a fault.

“Sure, Kook-ah. Maybe I’ll even let you beat me” you joke, fingers digging into his ribs causing him to laugh and squirm from your grasp.

Jungkook unwinds your legs from around his waist to set up the gaming console.

_______________________________________________

After several rounds of super smash bros, Jungkook has other ideas in his mind. Pulling you onto his lap, you’re forced to part your legs to straddle him. He fingers along the hem of your shirt pulling up the backside to expose your bare ass.

“Ah, you wore these for me?” he asks, hand rubbing circles along your quickly heating flesh.

“Depends. Are you ready to take them off me?” you retort with a wink.

Giggling, Jungkook lunges for you, wrapping his strong arms around you and burying his head into your neck. You feel the gentle pressure of his lips suckling and tilt your head further back to grant him more access to the sensitive skin of your neck.

He laps against your throat, making you moan out in satisfaction. Your arousal starts to leak onto Jungkook’s grey sweats as you absentmindedly grind your bare cunt against the stiffness growing there.

“Mmm, fuck. Let’s go” you pant, urgently tapping at Jungkook’s shoulder.

Walking into the bedroom, Jungkook slowly lowers you down to the ground, letting your front drag along his, your soft curves trailing along the firm planes of his chest. The moment your feet touch down, you gently press a hand against his chest- right over his thrumming heart- and encourage him to sit at the edge of your bed. His eyes gaze lovingly up into yours, a small smile hanging on his lips, waiting for your instruction.

You tug at the hem of his shirt. “Can you take this off, baby?”

Jungkook eagerly nods, licking his lips in anticipation. He reaches back, hooking his fingers into the neckline of his collar and pulling his stupidly oversized shirt over his head in one swift motion. For a second, he lets you admire his body. He works hard to achieve his physique and enjoys knowing you’re your attraction towards him has never waned.

You swallow down a groan as your eyes trail from his chest, dusky nipples pebbled with arousal, down his abdominals, towards the bulge in his sweats. Your husband is a beautiful man, inside and out, and he is all yours. Tonight and forever.

Climbing into his lap, you straddle him and cup his face between your hands. Jungkook needs emotional intimacy, and you’re prepared to deliver.

You kiss his forehead. “I love the way you think. You’re quiet, but so clever, and I wish more people could see how your brain works. You’re considerate of other people and so fucking humble, qualities I really admire about you.”

Moving down to his eyes, you place twin kisses over his closed eyelids. “I love the way you see the world. When I’m tired, you remind me that there is so much beauty in the mundane, and I’m so lucky to see it all by your side.”

You reach down for his hands and press your lips along the knuckles of both his hands. “I love the life you’ve helped build for and with me. People always say you’re good at everything, but they don’t see how hard you work to earn it. I respect you so much for that.” You play with his fingers- somehow long and delicate, but strong at the same time- and lace them together.

“I love your nose,” you continue, pecking the tip.

“But-”

“No interruptions, Jungkook” you hold up a hand, effectively cutting him off. “I know you’ve always thought it was a little too big and round when we were younger, but it shows how much you’ve grown into yourself over the years. You are so sexy- both on the stage and off.”

You pull back in time to see him fighting down a shy smile at your praise. “Besides, a man should have a big nose,” you wink. Unable to hide his toothy smile or blushing cheeks, you continue.

“I love these cheeks,” you say, planting sloppy kisses over his face. “When you smile - a real, genuine smile- your whole face lights up. I hope our children inherit that.”

You plant more against the beauty marks on the bridge of his nose and under his lip, on the faint scar high on his cheek. “So beautiful,” you murmur against his skin.

“These are my favorite lips. You were the first man that I believed when you told me you loved me.” You press your lips against his, kissing him gently. Tilting your head for a better angle, you press forward more ardently, and part your lips further to slide your tongue against his.

When you pull back, Jungkook’s eyes are still closed, face craning forward to chase your kiss. You card your fingers through his hair and push him back enough to look into his eyes again.

Your lips continue their loving path down his face, nipping along his sharp jawline and down his neck, paying special attention to his sensitive pulse point. Jungkook whimpers in appreciation encouraging you to work color into his skin.

“Most of all, I love your heart.” Your arms wrap around his torso, hands caressing up and down his back as your head tips down to press your mouth against his chest, just left of center. “You are patient and kind and romantic. You show me every day what true love means, and I am forever grateful for that. You have all of me, and you always will. And tonight, I want to make you feel good because I love every part of you. Even the parts you don’t particularly like yourself.”

You continue to leave wet kisses along his clavicles and throat making him moan quietly.

“Lay back for me, baby” you say, and he allows you to push him onto his back.

Your body follows him down prone on the bed, allowing your comforting weight to settle atop him and press him into the sheets. Linking your hands, you bring them up to rest by his head. You reconnect and kiss him senseless, lips and tongues moving seamlessly in a dance well practiced over the years. You continue until he’s whining, until you feel him thickening further in his pants.

Lips descending downwards, you continue a fiery trail along his jawline, hands caressing his neck and chest to maximize his pleasure. Evidence of your love blooms down his neck as you continue a path towards his chest. Perched on his lap, you grind against him as you take a nipple between your lips and begin to suck.

“A-ahh fuck”, Jungkook pants as your lips wrap more securely around his pebbled bud, tongue flicking against him. Your other hand rakes along his other pectoral, thumb catching along its twin and you rub circles over him with your thumb. His cock, which had begun to throb when you love bombed him, is now fattening with arousal.

You trail your lips across his chest making sure to provide equal attention to his sensitive buds. Dusky and shining with your saliva, you continue down his abs, licking the contours of his hard earned muscles. Jungkook continues to quietly moan at the sensation of your soft, warm mouth slowly moving south along his body.

Sitting up a bit from his supine figure, you tug down at the band of his sweatpants. “Can I take these off?” you ask, slipping your fingertips into the waistline of his bottoms. He nods his consent and you push them down as he lifts his hips up, effectively removing Jungkook’s remaining piece of clothing.

As you move to stand from his lap, he immediately sits up as if pained by any distance between your bodies. You give him one last, sweet kiss on the mouth before settling down on your knees between his spread legs. His cock, perfectly framed between powerful thighs, is hardening rapidly and attempting to defy gravity as it bobs in the space between your bodies. Licking your lips at the sight of his leaking length, you settle on the floor and reach for his base.

“Hold on” he says, stopping you to reach across the bed and pulling his pillow from under the covers offering it to you for comfort. Your heart swells at his consideration and you accept it gratefully. You place it under your knees for an added cushion and make yourself comfortable on the ground.

Maintaining eye contact you run your hands up and down his thick thighs letting your fingernails lightly scratch along the sensitive skin there. Each pass brings you closer and closer to his cock, subtly twitching in eagerness to feel you wrapped around him. Keeping your eyes locked on his, you wrap a hand around his base and feel him harden fully in your grasp. Bringing your lips down to his weeping tip, you run your tongue up and down his slit, then slowly in a circle around the engorged head leaving a ring of precum and saliva in your wake.

“F-uuuck” Jungkook keens as you continue to tease him with your tongue. “Please. More, please.”

Your lips immediately close around him, surrounding his throbbing cock with the wet heat of your mouth and begin to suck tasting his musky flavor. Popping off, you run your tongue up and down to spread moisture along his shaft; your hand will have to cover what your throat cannot take. He is not profoundly large, but he is more than thick and long enough to satisfy you.

Unable to mask his desire, Jungkook pants as your mouth works up and down his rigid length. You take him as deep as you can tolerate, gagging lightly when you feel him slide down the back of your throat with each pass. The hand not grasping his base is rubbing soothing circles along his hip and inner thigh, amplifying his pleasure.

“Mmm yeah, you’re doing so g-good,” he groans as you continue bobbing, hand furiously pumping whatever won’t fit in your mouth. He weaves his fingers into your hair, encouraging you to take him deeper into the depths of your throat. Eyes starting to water, his other hand wipes at the tears in your lash line as you continue to enthusiastically blow him.

Jungkook’s volume steadily increases along with the pace of your mouth and hand as you work over his cock. You continue to suck him off sending white hot pleasure through his veins. “Oh shit- shit.” Jungkook stops you as his impending orgasm begins to crest. “You need to stop, or I’ll cum” he breathes out. Though your mouth is no longer on him, your hand continues to slowly jerk him off.

“Aren’t you ovulating?” he tries to confirm with you. “I need to put it in you,” he insists, teeth clenching together as your hand glides up and down the full length of his dick twisting your wrist with each upstroke.

“Tonight is all about you - about us,” you shake your head. “I want to make you feel good. Can I do that?” you ask as your other hand travels from his hip to cup and gently fondle his balls.

He whimpers in pleasure as you continue to stroke him.

“Do you want to cum in my mouth tonight, baby?” you purr. No longer able to formulate a coherent sentence, he nods his head aggressively.

“Good boy,” you tease with a smirk. Your mouth returns to his cock and joins the hand pumping his shaft. Years of learning each other’s bodies has taught you the tell tale signs of your husband’s orgasms and you can tell he’s close. Very close.

Hollowing out your cheeks, you apply the suction you know he has never been able to resist. You’re determined to suck his soul from his body, gripping him firmly as you furiously work his throbbing length exactly the way you know he likes. Your mouth focuses on his mushroomed head, lips sealed around the tip and tongue lapping against the sensitive frenulum.

Jungkook desperately tries to stave off his release to linger in the wet heat of your mouth. It’s been a while since he’s allowed himself to finish down your throat and he wants to savor it. “Ah, I’m so mad that you’re so good at this” he groans, earning a muted giggle from you. Stuffed full of cock, the vibration sends a thrill up his spine.

You know Jungkook’s cumming before he can warn you. It starts with a subtle lifting of his balls as they prepare to empty into your eager mouth. Eyes squeezed shut and moaning wantonly, he chants your name over and over as he begins to orgasm. You continue your determined ministrations as his shaft pulses in your grasp.

“Hmmmph- ahh, fuck yes! Oh fuck, so good,” Jungkook whimpers as ribbons of cum burst across your tongue and hit the back of your throat. You quickly swallow his load as he erupts into your mouth. You continue stroking and sucking Jungkook through his high, helping him ride it out until he gently pushes you away when he feels the burn of overstimulation.

“Good?” you smile up at him and let go of his wilting length to lick at a stray bit of cum from your thumb. You wipe off the remaining spit on your shirt.

“Amazing,” he replies, smiling dazedly down at you.

You allow him to pull you from the ground up onto the bed with him, laughing when your knees pop loudly in the quiet of the room as you stand up. Giggling, you curl up against his side listening as his heart rate evens out to a steady rhythm. You can't be bothered to care that his skin is tacky with a light sheen of sweat.

You lay against Jungkook for a few minutes as he basks in the afterglow of a powerful orgasm. He pulls you tighter against him, tipping his head down to kiss you for a blow job-well-done. Tasting the residual flavor of his cum, he groans against your mouth, enjoying your combined essences.

Jungkook rolls you onto your back, continuing to kiss you with fervor. The sound of lips and tongues clashing fill the room as the two of you enjoy the simple intimacy of being together. Reaching down, Jungkook spreads your legs apart to make room for him to lay comfortably between your thighs.

“W-what,” you’re breathless as his lips leave your mouth and travel down your jaw.

“Mmm,” he mumbles against your skin. “It’s your turn now.” He nibbles along your sensitive neck, goosebumps rising with his light touch.

You run your fingertips up and down his back, scratching along the peaks and valleys of his spine. Leaning his weight into one arm, he uses the other to push up the hem of your shirt, ghosting a hand under to cup a breast. He palms greedily at the flesh as he continues to kiss you passionately.

“I wanna see you,” says Jungkook. “Can I take this off?” he gestures at his cut-off tank you’re still wearing.

Criss crossing your arms and pulling up by its hem, you bare your chest to Jungkook’s eager eyes. His gaze drops down to admire the bouncing of your tits as you wiggle out of your top. Propping up on his elbows, he ducks his head to capture a nipple between his petal soft lips, coaxing it into a stiff peak with gentle suction and the lapping of his tongue. When your back arches in pleasure and you clutch his head to you, Jungkook takes the opportunity to slide his arms under you to hold you securely to his mouth as he worships at the altar of your breasts.

“Baby, yes, you’re so good to me” you pant, feeling your arousal generously leak from your core.

Eyes closed and relishing in the sensation, you whimper, sending one hand to grip his long, dark locks and feeling the prickle of his freshly trimmed undercut. With a hand in his mane, you feel him unlatch from your tight bud to plant wet open mouthed kisses around your areola and across your chest. He stops over your heart, lips lingering to feel the rapid thumping rattle your sternum.

Generous with his attention, he moves to nip and suck around your neglected breast. He slurps your nipple into his eager mouth, tongue swirling to tease it to a hard peak. Jungkook's diligent stimulation of your breasts sends sparks of pleasure down to your cunt as he continues to lap at your pebbled beds.

“More, please,” you whine, bucking your hips upwards, hoping to encourage him to touch you where you need it most.

Hearing you beg so prettily for him slowly coaxes life back into his spent cock. He feels himself begin to swell again against your thigh. Pleasuring you has always been incredibly arousing for him, and he knows with a several more minutes of rest, he’ll be ready to fuck you senseless.

Pulling an arm out from under your torso, Jungkook leans his weight onto one elbow and sends his free hand down between your legs to the treasure between your thighs. His lips pursed around your nipple continues to suckle and tease you into a frenzy.

The room fills with sounds of your mewling and his blunted goans as he plays the familiar song of your body. His hands brush against the soft black lace as he spreads your legs, positioning you to his liking.

“So wet,” Jungkook acknowledges with a quirk of his lips, fingers swiping along your slit to feel for your arousal. Bringing those fingers towards his mouth, he sucks your essence from his fingertips, savoring your taste. Jungkook switches nipples again and his fingers, now slickened with his saliva, return to the warmth of your pussy.

You gasp when you feel him caress at your opening before sinking a lone finger into your tight, wet heat. Jungkook can’t help but grunt as he feels your walls clench around him, excited to feel it around his growing erection.

“It’s all for you baby,” you praise him, carding your fingers through his fringe and pushing his hair back to get a better view of him suckling at your breast. Your breath hitches when you feel him add a second finger, stretching you open with his long, tattooed digits and curling them against your g-spot.

“Mmm yes- ahh. Fuck me with them,” you plead. Lacking the power to drive you towards an orgasm, he teases you with sensual strokes until your cunt drips down your ass and his fingers come out sparkling with your arousal. Completely at his mercy, you feel Jungkook slow down further. Brat.

You’re writhing beneath him as he continues his personal brand of slow, pleasurable torture. His lips release your tender nipple and return to your open mouth attempting to swallow your moans.

“Fuck me harder, please, I need it harder.” you beg, hoping to convince him to finger you to completion. Despite your request, Jungkook stops thrusting completely, opting to curl his fingers and rubbing softly against your g-spot while grinding the heel of his palm just off center from your pulsing clit. Your eyes are closed, but you can feel his gaze on your visage committing your whining and fucked out expression to memory. You’re being uncharacteristically pliant for him tonight- a change that he is very much enjoying. He files it under ‘spank bank material’ for when Beyond ultimately goes back on tour.

“Please, baby, make me cum. I’m so close.” you try one last time. You’re panting and desperate for release.

“You’re not cumming tonight unless it’s on my cock,” he grits out. His fingers stay hooked inside you, caressing at your sensitive front wall. Jungkook’s mouth returns to suckling at your pebbled bud and he slowly fucks you open with his fingers. Your cunt quivers and leaks with your arousal, but without the thrusting or clitoral stimulation, you won’t be cumming anytime soon.

“But how-” you glance down, not expecting his nearly fully erect cock. Pleasuring you had sparked his arousal again, the sounds of your approval and sight of your wet pussy glistening with desire has encouraged him back towards full mast. Licking your lips at his growing girth, you push his hand from your core to collect some of your personal lubricant. You wrap your slicked up fingers around his length jacking him to his full potential.

“Uunffff- ok, ok. Hold on,” he says, reaching out into your bedside table for lube. You hear Jungkook uncap the small bottle and are eager to feel him deep inside you. Quickly flipping onto your front, you prop yourself on your elbows and knees, presenting your husband with your sloppy, swollen cunt- a soundless request imploring him to fuck you from behind.

“I want to feel you deep,” you reason and unable to resist you, Jungkook agrees. Eyes glued to the way your crotchless panties have dampened with your cream, he spreads a generous glob of lube up and down his cock. He wipes the remainder against your labia and rubs some onto your clit making you mewl out for him. He wipes off the residue on your sheets. You’ll have to wash that later.

Taking a moment to admire his view, his hands caress over your hips and ass. “Are you ready?” Jungkook asks, always so considerate of your needs.

You nod and delirious with lust, you reach between your legs for him, sliding his bulbous tip up and down your slit before pushing your hips back to take him into your awaiting passage. Jungkook descends down creating a canopy with his body, sheltering you with the physical representation of his love. Jungkook’s hands find yours, lacing his calloused palms to the backs of your hands, fingers interlocking. With light pressure, he encourages you to lay your front down onto the bed. He nudges your knees further apart, propping you ass high in the air.

Positioned to his liking, he takes his first stroke into your eager cunt. Despite his diligent fingering, the fit is still tight, and you feel the initial pinch as he breaches you. You both release matching moans upon your coupling, and you already know you won’t last long after enduring Jungkook's extensive foreplay. He sets a slow pace plunging deep into your velvet heat.

“Harder, Kook, I’m already so close.” you puff into the sheets, turning your head as far as possible to watch your lover as he takes you from behind. “Please,” you rasp.

No longer denying your release, Jungkook thrusts faster, snapping his hips powerfully with the intent of getting you off. His cock hammers into you and you’re helpless underneath him to do anything but take it. He can already feel you tightening around him deliciously and lets go of one hand to reach down between your legs. With two fingers, Jungkook rubs tight circles around your clit while he continues to drill into your cunt which is just what you need to finally cum.

“Oh, fuck! Ah- ah-ah, Jungkook!” you chant. Your hands furiously grip the sheets trying to hold onto something to ground you as your high threatens to pull you under. Legs quaking and pussy fluttering around him, your walls contract rhythmically around his turgid length as he continues to rigorously fuck you through your orgasm.

Jungkook whines at the sensations gripping his cock, but pulls out of your spent heat to spare you from the sting of overstimulation. Any other night, he may have considered fucking you into a second orgasm, but tonight feels different. Tonight, he wants to make ardent love to you.

Without Jungkook’s strong frame to hold you up, you crumble limp against the bed. Your ears ring with the aftermath of a good round of fucking. It takes a second to register that he is speaking.

“Can you take more?” he asks. Confused, you look down and see that he’s still painfully hard. Oh. His erection is glossy with your juices, shining as it bobs between his well-muscled thighs.

“Fuck- yes,” you quickly consent to him.

Jungkook swiftly rolls you onto your back again and sits up on his knees between your spread thighs. “I love you in these, but I want to see all of you,” he rasps, tugging at your ruined panties and pulling them off while his eyes stay glued on your saturated folds. Climbing back up your body, he spreads your legs wider and leans forward bringing his cock to your core. You look down to watch him steadily thrust his length against your slit, bumping against your clit on the upstrokes.

Wanting to draw out his teasing, he grips his slickened base and slaps his dick against your slippery folds. Each wet smack sends waves of electric pleasure through your system as Jungkook works you back up. “Just fuck me, baby. I’m ready.” you insist. Your gaze trails up, meeting his heated stare.

“I want you to keep your eyes on me when I make love to you,” he says, voice dropping an octave. When you nod in understanding, he catches his tip against your entrance and pushes back into your ripe, warm cunt. Your legs immediately wrap around his trim waist pulling him closer and encouraging him to brace the weight of his upper body on his hands. Your ankles interlock against the base of his spine to bring him deeper.

Jungkook starts with long, slow strokes, pulling nearly all the way out of you before feeding his cock back into your sopping pussy. Going slow enough for you to feel every ridge of his throbbing length, he impales you over and over.

Your back arches in pleasure and you have to fight to keep your eyes open for him. Wanting him closer, you greedily reach your hands up to pull him down closer to you, forcing him to drop to his elbows as he continues to give it to you slow and deep.

Jungkook braces on his forearms and cradles your head. He tilts your chin up to align with his intense gaze as he continues to plow into you. Brow furrowed and eyes locked, your husband watches your dazed and needy expressions while his body and mind make love to yours.

He’s always so good to you. Devoted and adoring. You’re suddenly struck with the reminder that this beautiful man is yours. Always has been. Always will be. And tonight is a good time to remind Jungkook how deeply you love him. A fear of commitment used to hold you back, but he peeled back your layers and showed you that love didn’t have to hurt. You haven’t been afraid since. Jungkook has the whole of your heart.

“How did I get so lucky?” you say, reaching up to caress his jaw as he continues to thrust into your depths. “I’m sorry I lost sight of us,” you stutter trying to sound coherent as your husband diligently sinks his thickness into you again and again. “I never meant for you to feel-”

“- I know. And I’m sorry I didn’t communicate better, I just- I’m working on it,” Jungkook cuts you off. He knows this is a two way street.

“We don’t have to try anymore if you aren’t ready. Pull out and I’ll suck you off again” you offer. If Jungkook isn’t 100% in, you aren’t either.

“No, I want it. I’m ready for our love to create something beautiful and for everything that comes after that.”

You moan, eyes closing briefly, as Jungkook begins to pick up the pace. The increase in friction against your walls is quickly bringing you towards the edge again. An unexpectedly fierce pump of his hips has you gasping in delight.

“I said-,” Jungkook grunts with another sharp thrust, “-eyes on me, baby.” You pry your eyes open, surprised by his display of dominance and try not to squeal.

Jungkook reaches one hand down to tilt your pelvis back further and you lock your legs up higher on his frame allowing him to shove a pillow under your ass. The new position brings your clit directly under his pubic bone. When he slams back down to stuff you full, he grinds deliciously against you, making you nearly scream out in ecstasy.

“I love you,” you whisper in earnest. “I love you so much,” you moan as Jungkook begins to pound you into the sheets. You’re both quickly unraveling, approaching another high, bodies tingling with impending release. When your thighs begin shaking around him for the second time tonight, he picks up the pace filling the room with a symphony of your euphoria.

Breaking your eye contact briefly, Jungkook looks down at the juncture of your connection and is enthralled by the visual- his cock coming out foamy with your cream and slamming back into your weeping pussy. Groaning, he suddenly feels the sharp sting of your nails raking down his back as you’re overcome with pleasure.

“Come on, babe. Cum on my fucking cock,” Jungkook grunts, urging you towards completion. With your hips canted deliciously, he continues to ram directly against your g-spot.

“Oh fuck, it’s so good. I’m so close,” you babble, feeling Jungkook push deeper against you to stimulate your pulsing clit. Hands clutching your husband and thighs trembling, your eyes slip closed as you finally succumb to his endeavors. You cum with a silent scream, head tilted back and throat exposed as your walls spasm uncontrollably. The wild contracting of your pussy squeezing his cock triggers Jungkook’s own release. His length throbs desperately within your walls as you coax him towards his end.

“Ahh, I- I’m holy shit- I’m cumming, too” Jungkook whines as he climaxes with breathy whimpers, exploding as he fills you with streams of his ejaculate. He thrusts as deep as he can get while his length continues to spurt inside you, shallowly rutting to ride out his high.

Panting, he collapses his weight into your waiting arms. “Oof,” you grunt as you feel your husband’s sweaty and spent body pin you against the bed. You let him rest against you for a while, content to feel the warm fullness of his cock and spunk nestled deep inside you.

“Can I stay inside?” he asks shyly. “I just wanna hold you.” You smile and Jungkook holds you close and carefully rolls under you so you can comfortably lay against him. With his arms wound around your waist and your thighs spread wide with his dick sheathed inside you, he ensures maximal skin contact.

Seeing his blissed out face, you giggle as the two of you revel in your post-coital afterglow. His spent length slowly softens letting some of his cum leak from your used hole onto him and the sheets below. You’re definitely going to have to wash these.

Your fingers find their way into his hair, scratching along his scalp and pushing back his long locks to expose the sexy undercut hiding beneath. Jungkook’s eyes are still closed, but he still leans his face forward knowing you’ll meet his lips with your own. The two of you make out for a little longer, savoring the intimacy shared in your little bubble.

Jungkook clings to you, preening at your gentle caress and basking in his favorite form of aftercare. Your cunt is runny with lube and your combined releases, but you’re too content to lay with Jungkook in your arms to clean up just yet. You lie wrapped around each other for a few more minutes, mindlessly kissing at his face and neck, whispering praises for his performance.

It’s quiet for a long moment, and assuming he must have fallen asleep as he tends to do after a vigorous round of love making, you attempt to unwind your limbs from his. Grumbling, he tightens his hold around you, preventing you from getting far.

“Jungkook,” you warn with a laugh, “I have to get cleaned up.”

“Mmm not yet, hold me a little longer” he requests as he burrows deeper in your embrace.

Sighing, you relent, slowly dozing off with your husband in your arms.

_______________________________________________

When you wake, you find that you've shifted in your slumber. Jungkook's chest is plastered to your back and he has an arm slung over your waist with a hand curled around one of your tits. The mess between your legs has dried making you cringe when you move to get up. Leaving Jungkook who is slowly stirring, you go to the bathroom to shower.

You step under the spray and let the warm water relax you while you clean off the sweat and unholy mix of bodily fluids from between your thighs. You hum along to the new Beyond the Scene single and sing some of the chorus that you can remember. You exit the shower, wrapping a towel securely around you and return to rouse your sleeping husband.

You find that Jungkook is already awake and sitting against the headboard. “You know, I hope our kid doesn’t inherit your singing voice,” Jungkook cackles, cutting through the silence.

"Why you-," you gasp, tackling him down into the sheets and laughing along with him. You pin him down and pinch at his nipple in retaliation. It’s not long before he’s pulling the towel from your body and rolling you under him to latch his mouth to your cunt. Before the night is over, he delivers another two orgasms and a fresh load. After all, practice makes perfect.

#Jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fic #jjk x reader #drummer jungkook au #husband au

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theinternetisfulloftrash · 3 years ago

Note

My Dearest Trashy,

In honor of my sprained ankle, which is particularly angry today, can you write me a FLUFFY little number where Dylan takes care of his injured girlfriend?

Love,

Your BFF Mischief

Happily. Gladly. Eagerly.

This one goes out to my bestie and her busted ankle. Much love, beautiful human! - Trashy, your filthy enabler ;)

Tags: SWEET AS SHIT FLUFF. DEAL WITH IT, SMUT LOVERS.

Authors Note: Established relationship with a girl named Rachael. Rachael is my go-to for one-shots. If that's your name, I suppose this is an insert? Enjoy? ;) Also, here's some recommended listening, if you're into that kind of thing <3

As Long As You're With Me

God, what a long day. What a long-ass day. Rachael’s ankle ached and throbbed when she finally sat down on the couch. She winced as she reached down to rub at it.

“You’re supposed to be resting that, you know…” Dylan said, walking out from the kitchen into the living room. “Even at work…”

When she’d left that morning, he was still lazily walking around the house shirtless in a pair of grey sweats, so she was a bit surprised to see him looking so pulled together, especially since he said he’d be spending the day at home. He was wearing a dark blue sweater, and a pair of his favorite khakis. His hair was that perfect disheveled he managed to achieve on a fairly regular basis. He looked good, but he always did.

“No rest for the wicked,” she smiled at him, but she was sure it wasn’t convincing him.

He shook his head and sat down next to her, placing his hand on her thigh. “I really wish you’d taken another week off before you started going back into the office.” He looked down at her feet.

“I know, but...they needed me in there and the new guy is a fucking disaster.”

He sighed in resignation with a small shake of his head. “Well come on then,” he said, patting his thigh. “Get ‘em up here.”

“You really don’t have to—”

“Yes I do. So, shut up and gimme the hoof”.

Rachael laughed sliding sideways a bit on the couch so she could swing her legs up over his knees. She rested her back against the arm of the couch, watching him as he peeled off her little ankle socks and balled them up before he set them on the back of the couch.

Dylan ran a long finger down the side of her swollen ankle, stilling over the slight bruise that still discoloured it.

Rachael could see the way his brows knitted together like he was feeling her pain when he touched her skin. He loved her. She could see it in everything he did—everything he said—and she loved him too.

“I should have been there when you slipped,” he said, looking up at her as he laid his palm on her skin, the heat of his skin soothing the ache a bit. “Could’ve caught you.”

She smiled with a sigh. “I would have found a way to bust my ass with you holding my hand, and I think you know that.”

He laughed, wrapping her foot up in his hand and rubbing his thumbs into the arch. “The clumsy does run deep, huh?” he grinned, his hands working over her aching joints, but not stressing her tender injury.

She could feel the tension easing, some of the swelling in her foot and toes calming down under his touch.

“So how was your first day back?” he asked, swapping his attention to the other foot.

Rachel paused for a minute, watching the careful way he held her, the gentle way he worked his fingers against her skin. “I mean...it could have been better? Could’ve been worse?”

“Ah,” he said before he pressed his lips into a thin line. “So on a scale of one to workplace-fuckery, you were sitting around a ‘meh’?”

He had a way of making her feel like nothing was worth sweating over too much. That whatever it was that was bothering her just shouldn’t. That he was there for her, and that they’d get through it together. That she could lean on him and he’d gladly shoulder the extra weight.

“Yeah. ‘Meh’ sounds about right.”

“So,” he said, shifting the conversation “I was gonna cook for you, but I figured you’d actually like to enjoy your meal after a long day.” He flashed her a wink.

“Mmm, very astute of you,” she teased.

“Hey!” he reprimanded, his hands stilling on her skin. “I’m allowed to self-deprecate, but no one said you could pile on.”

“Sorry, sorry, go on…” she encouraged.

“So…” he drew it out, teasing her even more with the way he exaggerated the start of his sentence, “I ordered in…”

“Little Duck!?”

He huffed in feigned annoyance. “The art of surprise is entirely lost on you, isn’t it?”

“You act like I shouldn’t know that you’d order pad thai for such an illustrious occasion.”

He gave her foot a small squeeze before he spoke. “Fair.” He continued working over her sore joints with his strong hands, both of his thumbs driving the tension out of the arch on this foot too. “But, I think I can still surprise you,” he waggled his brows.

“Oh, really?” Rachel grinned.

“Mhm,” he hummed, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

“We’ll see…”

He didn’t respond, he simply shook his head. “I’m gonna go grab some ice for this, because...while I know I have a magical touch with these,” he held up his hands and wiggled his fingers. “This bad boy,” he pointed to her swollen ankle, “needs the frozen peas treatment.”

She chuckled at him as he carefully lifted her feet from his lap and sat them down on a pillow he tucked under them.

“One sec,” he said, skipping off into the kitchen.

Rachael heard him digging around in the freezer, whistling and puttering around in the drawers for a minute or so before she heard the sound of a bunch of ice skittering across the kitchen floor. “Dyl! You alright?” she asked, sitting up a bit, holding her weight up on her palms.

“I got it!” he said, poking his head around the corner as he chased down an ice cube that had bounced through the threshold into the dining room. “Nothing to see here...don’t get up. I got it under control.”

“All right…just don’t hurt yourself. We can’t both be laid up,” she covered her eyes for a moment with her forearm, clearing her head before she laid back and relaxed, listening to him laugh a little bit before he started to whistle.

“Gotcha, you little fucker,” he said, presumably to an ice cube he’d tracked down in the kitchen. He strode back out into the living room, proudly holding a ziplock bag of ice and a tea towel. “M’lady,” he bowed, presenting the bag like it was a glass slipper on a velvet pillow.

She scooched along the couch to make a bit more space for him to sit down when the doorbell rang.

“Thai!” he almost shouted, wrapping the bag of ice in the tea toweL. He rested it on the pillow and set her ankle on it. “Hold that there,” he said, rushing for the door and flinging it open.

“Will do.”

Their dinner was sitting on the doorstep. “God. Don’t you just fucking love DoorDash?” he asked, plucking the bag from the ground before he shut the door. “Gone are the days of awkward conversations with food-peddling strangers. I couldn’t be happier about it.”

“Are you saying you don’t miss that long minute of awkward silence while you’re waiting for the transaction to finish?”

Dylan walked over and sat the bag on the coffee table. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Fair enough,” she agreed.

Dylan walked past her to the kitchen and grabbed some drinks before he snatched the remote control off the end table and turned on the TV. “Dinner and a movie?” he asked, looking over at her.

“Sure,” she smiled, sitting up a bit.

“Ah, ah,” he tisked, walking around to her side of the couch, standing over her and grabbing a pillow from the chair to place behind her back. “Rest,” he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

Rachael sighed at the sweet gesture, but she wanted a little bit more than sweet. When he pulled back from her, she reached and pulled him down to her so that she could kiss him properly. His mouth was quick to adapt to the sudden need hers had for it. He leaned down even more to deepen their connection and his hands were soon knotting into the waves of her hair.

When she felt like she needed a breath, he cradled her face in his hand and peppered her lips and cheek with small kisses until his lips were brushing against the skin of her neck below her ear.

“Someone’s hungry,” he teased.

She smirked, brushing her lips over his ear. “Yeah...but mostly for thai food.”

“Ouch,” he laughed as he stood, “way to hurt a man’s feelings,” he feigned a gutshot as he walked back around the coffee table.

She tucked her legs back long enough for him to flop down onto the couch and adjust the cushion so that it was propped up on his thigh before she rested her ankle on it again.

He turned on the TV and opened Hulu. “Never Been Kissed?” he asked, pausing on the preview screen.

“Really, Dyl?”

“What!?”

“I thought you were going to surprise me?” she teased

He turned to her, looking less than impressed. “Alright, smartass. You pick.” He tossed her the remote.

“Fine,” she said, picking it up as he leaned forward and started taking the food out of the bag. He set her box of pad thai down in front of her, along with a pair of wrapped chopsticks. She grinned when she found the perfect movie. “This one,” she said clicking on it.

Dylan looked up at the TV, and his expression turned to indignation before he turned to her. “Really?” he asked before he ran his tongue along the inside of his lower lip.

“You said I could pick!” she whined. “I’m injured and sad…” she pouted, batting her lashes.

He narrowed his eyes, but she knew she had him wrapped around her finger.

He drew in a long breath and sighed it out before he spoke. “Fine..”

She smiled and pressed play, grabbing her food from the table as the title sequence for ‘Love and Monsters’ began to play.

#dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagines #dylan o'brien x reader #but not really?#kinda #sorta?#dylanmischief #is the bestest bestest #and my OG fandom bestie #I love you!!!!!!!!!!! I hope you enjoy this little gift!!!#feel better soon!#trashy writing #except this is really fluffy and sweet #as long as you're with me fic #ALAYWM fic

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gryffindors-weasley · 4 years ago

Text

Yours

Young!Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: Mornings with Sirius are far different when you find you’re in love.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: none—fluff, kissing

August 1979

The warmth of the sun trickled through sheer cream colored curtains, the living room of the Potter residence slowly illuminating as traces of dawn start to roll around. The clocks ticked softly, chiming more than a few minutes ago to signal it’d been at least six o’clock in the morning, entirely too loud for your liking. At the moment you were far too tired to go more than a few seconds without letting your eyes fall closed once more.

What you were very much aware of without the need to see it was the weight on your chest, of the strands of black hair that brushed against your skin with each blow of the breeze through the open window. The one overtop of the couch you had slept on. You smiled at the thought—of the night before when the two of you had bickered back and forth on who’d take the couch and who’d sleep on the floor. You were both stubbornly determined to make it known that there was absolutely no way that you’d share it, yet at some point between here and there you managed to end up tangled up together. Sirius barely fit, his feet hanging over the edge and his arm dangling over the side.

But even as drowsy as you were, you still couldn’t find it in you to resist the urge to open your eyes just to see him once more.

You smiled softly as you looked at him, the golden sunshine dancing across his skin in the early hours. Dark lashes curled over the tops of his cheeks, ones that had been flushed by the very same sunshine as it illuminated the contours of his face. You sighed quietly as you slipped your hand from his in favor of running your fingers through his hair, tangled and splaying every which way it so pleased, partly from an evening with James and Remus that surely entailed karaoke. You could tell by the way he’d come home with his tie fastened haphazardly around his head and the red heart glasses of yours he’d taken to wear. If it weren’t for you having taken them off, you were certain he’d wear them to bed.

The thought alone made you shake your head, furthermore at the idea that you were in love with your best friend and he was in love with you. The one you spend every day bickering with over this, that, and the next thing. The one who goes out of his way to rile you up with quips and playful smiles, with nicknames you swear that you hate but you know you’d miss if they weren’t used. The one who you dreadfully knew you wouldn’t want to spend a single day without seeing but you’d never tell him of such—he’d be far too arrogant with that kind of information and you knew that for a fact.

You weren’t quite sure how it happened, not really. The two of you had been quite annoyed at the prospect of fighting over who gets which end of the couch and how much space the other will take up. Who gets the entirety of it and who gets the floor with a spare pillow and blanket. Though you knew deep down he’d never let you sleep on the floor, not in a million years. Could tell by the way that lighthearted argument shifted from who gets it to not allowing you to settle for anything but comfort. It was something he so quickly disguised when he’d pulled you down to sit with him for a while, those heart glasses still residing on the top of his head to keep the hair out of his face.

Perhaps it was when you sat against the back of the couch with him that night before that it’d happened. What had started as banter over who could cover Queen and ABBA the very best, what had started as scoffs and laughter loud enough to have James complaining down the stairs to be quiet had changed to something different.

At first, of course, the two of you had laughed in spiteful response to your best friend’s grumbling. But soon that laughter had died down to lingering smiles, and sometime between now and then you’d found yourselves sharing a dance in the small living room. You remember he’d considered using Mr. Potter’s record player but decided against all the noise. Turns out you hadn’t needed music to dance, hadn’t needed another distraction when the two of you had so obviously been far too distracted with each other to notice most anything else. And sometime between now and then had your dancing slowed, had he kissed you. In the middle of his best friend’s living room at an hour entirely too late had he dipped down and kissed you ever so lightly.

It was a moment you wouldn’t forget, not for a long while; you were in love with your best friend.

It wasn’t until you felt a hand around your wrist, calloused and warm, that you’d realized you’d spent far too long recalling the previous night for what wouldn’t be the first time since that moment. His hand slipped loosely into your own then, a chunk of his hair falling across his face momentarily before he’d blown it away once more with a puff from the corner of his mouth. The smile on his face had been telling of a quip sure to come.

“Are you thinking of me?” He asks quietly, his smile widening as his thumb traces over your knuckles lightly.

There it is.

It’s your scoff that focuses his attention back to you, your eyes rolling. “No, actually, I’m not.”

You redirect your gaze elsewhere, anywhere but him and you could feel the heat begin to rise in your cheeks as he laughs softly at your answer.

“You’re a horrible liar, you know,” he states with a yawn, lifting your clasped hands. They illuminated in the warm summer sun peeking just over the couch cushions, fingers intertwined before falling back just as quickly as they were raised. “You bite your cheek when you are.”

You quickly released it but he’d already seen it, a smile on your lips. “That is entirely untrue.”

“Sure it is,” he says, rolling his eyes as a laugh falls past his lips at the statement. A laugh that soon fans over your skin as he props himself up on one elbow, noses bumping at the closeness as his smile nearly presses against your own. “You’re quite predictable. More than you think you are.”

“I don’t suppose you think you’re any different?”

He quiets your very logical words with a kiss, soft and tender as his laughter sounds against you. The tips of his hair brush lightly against your cheeks and send a shiver down your spine, and soon enough he’s moved from your lips to kiss your cheek.

“Certainly I am, Y/n. It would be rather dreadful if I wasn’t,” he jests against your skin and you turn your head with a scoff, pushing his face away from yours lightly as you fight to stifle your laugh.

“Have you always been this insufferable? Or have you forgotten you told me you loved me?” You tease, sitting up a bit more in your corner of the couch. He turns to you then, running a hand through his hair and you swear you could see a pale scarlet beginning to stain his cheeks in that moment. You’re sure he notices that you’ve picked up on it, could tell by the way he looks away with a smile and fumbles with a button on his shirt.

“How could I ever forget that?” When he turns to look at you his smile is softer, if only for a short moment. “Let’s not forget you said it back.”

You laugh once more, making no attempt to hide your grin, not when he looks at you the way he currently had been. Over the years you’d found it rather impossible to conceal a smile in the presence of Sirius Black; you were quite sure your group of friends would agree with that statement. But you knew they’d also agree that they knew it’d been different between you two no matter how stubbornly you’d tried to say otherwise. He was no longer just your best friend that had always made it his mission to get on your nerves and you the same, it’d been different for a long while and you knew that.

Instead you let your smiles linger as he moves closer once more, resting his chin in his palm as his fingers curl to press against his cheek. He lets his eyes fall closed for a moment, still rather tired as he collects his thoughts and soon the corner of his mouth quirks up again.

“Our friends are getting married today,” he says softly after a little while, peeking an eye open at you. “And Remus claimed my old bedroom for the weekend.”

“How awfully unbelievable both of those things are, don’t you think?” You ask teasingly, brushing your fingertips along his cheek before the pad of your thumb falls to swipe over the dimple in his chin.

He hums in response, and you find it hard to miss the way he’d leaned into your touch, your heart fluttering within you.

It was quiet for a little while after that, the birds chirping just outside the window having been enough to fill the otherwise quiet living room as you lay tucked against one another. He’d busied himself with playing with your fingers somewhat absentmindedly, the tips of his own having repetitively tracing along your arm and traveling to the very back of your hand in a featherlight touch. One that had raised a bout of shivers on your skin before he’d started the wordless cycle again.

It had been hard to focus on anything other than that, on anything other than the way he’d occasionally furrowed his brows in thoughts you hadn’t been privy to. How the crease between them would remain there with traces of a frown he hadn’t even been aware of on his lips. But it’d quickly dissolved just as fast as it’d appeared once he’d walked his fingers back up your arm in a loop.

There was the occasional deep sigh or quiet laugh when either of you had unknowingly thought of the other, and the rhythmic tick of the clock on the wall to remind you of the hour you weren’t even certain which it was. The technicalities hadn’t mattered to you in that very moment. It seemed that most anything else was distant compared to him.

“When should we tell them?” He murmurs then, picking at a loose string on your shirt. You sigh softly, tucking a tangled chunk of hair behind his ear.

“We can do it tomorrow,” you whisper contently, “it’s their day today.”

“Yeah,” he says, kissing you again with the softest brush of his lips over yours. “We’ll tell them tomorrow.”

It was then that he began to grin once more, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he looked away. You hadn’t missed the laughter that fell from his lips either.

“What is it?” You ask, watching him sit back against the back of the couch, his hair splaying everywhere.

He laughs a second more as he turns his head to look at you, something akin to admiration dancing within his gray eyes as he takes a moment to look at you the way he’s been trying not to for the past few years. A time frame too long to count. Now he’s got an excuse to be so brazen in his staring. “We’ll never hear the end of this, you know that? They’ll go crazy when they know.”

You laugh quietly as you rest your head back against the cushion, your eyes falling closed as you think of just what it is they might say. You knew for a fact they’d placed a bet amongst each other, it would be unusual if they hadn’t.

It was then that you felt the couch jostle beneath you, your attention pulled to him when you opened your eyes and your brow rising in curiosity as you watched him stand to his feet and run his hand through his hair a second time. He’d held the same look he’d had this whole span of time he’d been awake, the same smile that always seemed to be reserved for you even though you hadn’t known of it. He took note of your expression, the corner of his mouth quirking up all the more.

“I suppose I’ll need to go bug Moony before anyone catches onto us. Don’t you think so, love?” He asks, head tilted and there’s an edge to the nickname noticeable enough for you to sit up and your seat and scoff soft.

His smile widens fully then, the softness of his laughter in the quiet morning sounding once more as he steps over to you again. And soon his hand settles on your cheek, fingers splayed across your skin before he dips down to kiss you. It’s tender and given with a certain bit of amusement that had you grinning against his lips, a breeze blowing through the open window again that eased the flush burning under your skin.

In a matter of moments he parted from you with all the reluctance in the world, the tips of his fingers still lingering on your cheek a moment more before he walked to the doorway at the far corner of the room. He paused in his tracks to turn on his heel and look at you, smile bright as he leans his hand on the doorframe.

“I love you,” he whispers, too quiet for listening ears and loud enough for yours.

“And I love you.”

He stays for a second longer to look at you before turning back, disappearing up the small staircase two by two and leaving you to simmer in the lovestruck haze he’d left you in.

—

Tags: @vogueweasley @anchoeritic @gxtitobxby @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq @snitches-at-dawn @dracosathenaeum @harrysweasleys @awritingtree @writeroutoftime

#sirius black #sirius black fic #sirius black imagine #sirius black fluff #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black oneshot

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spideymarvelws · 4 years ago

Text

Pillow Fort

Fratboy!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

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A/n : Got this idea from when i made a pillow fort in my room cause i was feeling lonely :’) Also this isnt really a part two to behind doors, just a branched off oneshot from further down in there relationship

Summary : Peter is tired from a rough night of patrolling and comes home to you sleeping in your very own pillow fort

Warnings : SMUT! (oral [fem rec], dirty talk, sub/dom dynamics) some nice floofy floof

Word Count : 3.7k

...

Peter had never felt so drained after patrol.

Maybe it was because he stayed up all night studying for a Physics quiz or that classes throughout the day seemed to drag on because you weren’t there to entertain him with your silly pick up lines you came up with on the go. After his last class ended, he didn’t want to go out as spider-man. All he wanted was to swing by your apartment and cuddle for the rest of the day, but when he heard about a new gang terrorising the city on Mr. Delmer’s radio, he knew he had a responsibility to stop them.

One gang and a drunk driver later, he found himself landing in front of your window, knocking lightly on the glass. After a few seconds of not getting a response, he assumed you were already asleep. Carefully, he slid open the window, stepping inside your bedroom. He locked the window before taking off his suit with a heavy sigh, leaving him in his boxers, ready to slide into bed with you.

However, as he sat on your bed and his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he noticed that it was stripped bare of any blankets or pillows. He stood straight up, looking around your room until his eyes fell on a deformed structure hidden in the corner.

It was a pillow fort.

It was flimsy, a significant dip in the roof (he could only imagine how much it annoyed you throughout the process of making it) but it kept hold. The wooden chairs on either side were the only support for the fort, heavy books keeping the sheets secure. It was rickety, but a fort nonetheless.

Peter let out a small sigh, a soft smile forming on his lips as he walked up to the structure, trying to find the entrance in the mountain of blankets. Getting on his knees, he crawled through, his hands and legs ending up on either side of your sleeping form.

“Baby?” He whispered, placing his hand on your cheek, “Sweetheart? Love? Babygirl?” He littered your face with kisses, slowly waking you up.

You let out a loud groan, stretching your arms out and almost knocking the flimsy blanket ceiling. Peter raised himself slightly, trying his best to give you enough room to stretch in the small space

“Shit,” you mumbled, making Peter chucked at your sleepy state, “Oh... Hey Petey,”

“Hey, Y/n/n,” Peter mumbled back, letting out a breathy laugh, “Missed you,”

You raised your hand to push the loose curls falling down in front of his face behind his ear, giggling at the fact that it felt right back in his eye. He blew the strand with his mouth, his nose crunching up cutely when it went right back to tickling the side of his face.

“I need to cut it soon,” he said, lowering himself into your body, his head buried in the middle of your chest like a puzzle piece fitting perfectly in place.

“I strongly disagree,” your said, almost offended at his words as your passed your fingers through his soft, pillowy hair, “Cut it and I’m asking Tony for his blasters,”

“Are you sure he’s going to let you borrow it after last time,” Peter looked up at you, his left cheek squished against your shirt, his lips slightly parted.

“Who says I haven’t been practicing?” You smiled, scratching his scalp, enjoying the feeling of his body melting into yours.

“Oh really?” He mumbled, “I’m going to have to see those skills sometime babe,”

“I don’t know Peter...” you dragged, biting your lip and tugged on his hair gently, “I don’t want to steal your thunder,”

“That confident huh?”

“That I could beat you in a fight, one hundred percent,”

Peter shook his head, “I’m sure you can,”

You gasped at his sarcastic tone, “You have no faith in me!”

“I never said that,” he pinched your side, raising back on his arms to hover over you.

You pouted angrily, crossing your arms over your chest, “It was implied,”

“Oh was it now?”

“Yes, yes it was,”

Peter rolled his eyes playfully.

“Maybe I just don’t want you to get hurt,”

“Then I’d tell you to go fuck yourself. I’m incapable of getting hurt and I don’t need your protection,” you replied smugly, sticking your tongue out.

“Is that so?”

You hummed in confirmation.

“Okay then,” he grinned, trailing the pads of his fingers up the side of your waist, “Protect yourself from this then!”

His hands pulled the bottom of your shirt up, revealing your stomach. Without hesitation he attacked the soft skin, wiggling his fingers in the places he knew would make you scream.

“For fucks sake Peter!” your hand shot up to his chest, trying to push him away as the giggles took over your body, your chest bubbling with joy while your breath escaped your lungs.

“Stop! Peter! Oh. My. God. Stop!” you laughed, fists pounding at his hard chest.

“Then tell me, you wont get those blasters Y/n!” he said, a sinister smirk on his face, “I’m not letting you go until you tell me!”

“I-” you heaved, “Peter! I-” you giggled, “Holu fuck!” god damn did your chest begin to hurt, “Okay! Okay! I won’t get them! Now stop!”

His hands suddenly left your body as he leaned back on his calves to admire the mess he made of you. Your chest raised up and down with desperate breaths to calm your rapid beating heat, your face blown out and your eyes closed in a silent thank you. You sighed, letting your stiff limbs fall back into the cushioning with a thud, relaxing fully.

It reminded him of a very different scenario other than the aftermath of an innocent tickle fight.

“You know I was having a great time before you showed up,” you murmured after a while.

“I find that hard to believe,”

“Oh really?”

“Yes really, I’m amazing!”

“You’re a monster.”

“Your monster though,”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever makes you sleep at night,” you paused, opening one eye to look up at him, “You’re still not cutting your hair though,”

“You’re still on this!”

“It was the point of this whole conversation! Of course I’m still on this-”

“Oh, that's it.”

With your one eye still closed, you let out a surprised hum, circling your arms around Peter’s neck, as his lips met onto yours. You sighed into the kiss, his body relaxing into yours while his hands trailed the side of your body once more, lifting your left thigh against his waist. The kiss became hungrier, soon both your tongues became entangled with each other. You didn’t bother to fight for dominance, knowing Peter already took that role when his hand rested on your ass, squeezing tightly at the skin.

“I hate you,” he mumbled, pulling back and pressing his forehead on yours.

“Sure seems like it Petey,” you whispered, voice low and sultry.

With a low growl, he smashed his lips back on yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth. God you loved getting him riled up, as much as you loved your shy, little nerd, the other side of him you saw in bed turned you on more than you could think of as you slipped into sub space.

But you didn't want to do it in something as unstable as a pillow fort.

“God, I’ve missed this,” he whispered into your mouth, moving to your jaw and down your throat.

“Peter,” You groaned, pushing on his shoulders lightly, “Not here, baby.”

Sucking on your collar bone, Peter mumbled, “Why not?”

“I don’t- fuck,” you gasped as Peter pulled up your shirt and latched his lips onto your nipple, massaging the other with his hand, “I don’t think fucking in an unstable pillow fort is going to be really advisable,”

“Don’t knock it till you try it right?” He snickered, moving his lips to the other nipple.

“Were going to knock the fucking thing down,” you grunted, bitting down on your finger while the other grabbed the sheets underneath you.

“Well it’s either here or your bare mattress,” he whispered, raising his head back up near yours, tugging at the bottom of your shirt and pulling it over your head, leaving you in just your panties, “You decide.”

“You ride a tough bargain Peter,” you whispered back, biting your lip at the darkness in his eyes.

He continued down your body, his voice deep with lust, “You know me princess,” he placed a kiss on your stomach, moving down your hips before reaching the side of your thighs, taking them in his hands, “I like when you beg,”

You groaned at his words, throwing your head back as his lips hovered over your clothed core for a split second. But he avoided contact at all costs, focusing on biting and sucking on your thigh, moving between the left and right and getting closer to the place you wanted him the most.

“Peter,” you whined, running your hand through his hair, tugging at his locks once again.

“I thought you heard me earlier princess,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling your heat closer to his face, “I want you to beg,”

You groaned, not wanting to give in. But the light kisses to your clit and his hands moving up and down your thighs, you didn’t know how long you could resist before you broke.

“Come on pretty girl,” he bit the inside of your thigh, sucking the skin to form a bruise, “Beg for it, beg for what you want so badly,”

You tucked your head into your shoulder, “Touch me peter,” you mumbled, yelping when he slapped your thigh.

“Louder pretty girl,”

“Oh god, touch me Peter! Touch my pussy, please,” you said audibly, your hands shooting to his hair, desperate for something to hold onto.

Without any further discussion, Peter teared off your underwear and buried his face between your thighs, lapping at the juices that started to escape your lips minutes before and continued flowing onto his tongue. If there was something he loved more than life itself, it was your taste. Nothing could match up to the sweet nectar that your body gave him. He loved giving you pleasure that nobody else could. He glanced up at you, head thrown back, thighs closing in around his face as your hands pushed him deeper into your core.

If there was a heaven, this is what he imagined it would be.

He shook his head, flicking his tongue deeper inside of you before moving up to suck your on your clit gently. One of his arms stayed securely on your waist, keeping you down so you didn’t destroy the structure around you while the other moved closer to your heat. He tested the waters by gliding his warm finger tip over your cunt and slipping it in, paying attention to your body’s reactions, jerking and tensing under him.

“More,” you whimpered, “More, please Peter,”

“What was that baby? Did my needy girl want more than what I’m giving her?” his laugh sent vibrations up your torso, “What did I say?”

“To- to beg,”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Peter, Peter please give me more, I want it faster, harder, anything! Just please!” you cried, jerking your hips off the ground but his strength held you down.

“Good girl,” he smirked, adding another finger while quickening his pace. His mouth stayed working around your sensitive bud, brushing his tongue along it like he was painting a precious artwork.

His fingers however were ferocious, pumping in and out of you at an inhuman rate. Your juices began to soak the sheets beneath you, hips grinding back down like the desperate whore you were, pulling his digits deeper inside you.

“Peter, I’m- i’m gonna cum,” your legs began to shake, your voice rising higher and higher while you orgasm approached, “Please Peter! Can I cum? Can I cum?”

“Go on baby, cum for me, cum in my mouth, cum all over my fingers,” his fingers moved impossibly faster, plunging in and out of your pussy, “Fall apart for me princess.”

You screamed when your high hit, your back arching out of his control. He slowed his movements, sailing you through it, prolonging it for as long as possible. When your body slumped back on the floor, he trailed his lips back up your stomach, staining your skin with your cum. He pushed his lips on yours, moaning as you devoured his mouth, drinking up every last drop.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “You ready for more princess?”

All you could muster was a nod, playing it off as exhaustion from your recent high. Even after a years of dating, you were still as closed off and shy from when he met you in bed, holding back your precious voice from him. He tried his best to keep you talking, to tell you that screaming like a banshee was all he ever wanted. But every time you came back from your euphoric state, you were always self conscious of doing something wrong or saying something out of line.

He was determined to make that your biggest confidence using the little things he picked up along the way.

“Come one princess,” he muttered groggily, moving to your neck and kissing your pulse point, nibbling and sucking on the skin, “I’m not going to do anything if you don’t speak up,”

You looked up at him with doe eyes, a completely different person from the one that was bickering with him earlier. One that was willing to do anything and everything he wanted. But he wanted tonight to be about you, he wanted to do what you wanted, to pleasure and worship you the way you deserve.

It was your pillow fort he was about to fuck you in after all.

“I- uh, you could do what you were… you know, going to do?”

“And what was that sweetheart?”

Heat rose to your face, you hid your head in your shoulder in an attempt to avoid saying such vulgar words. Peter only squinted his eyes, the gears in his head turning as he thought of something to get you to speak up.

“Alright then,” he smirked, “Have it your way.”

You watched with curious eyes while he slipped out of boxers, taking his hard cock in his hand and guiding it to your puffy hole. He slowly unsheathed himself inside you, resisting the urge to pull back out and slam right back into you. You were always so tight around him, and your uncontrollable clenching just destroyed him even more.

In one swift motion, he turned the both of you over, careful to keep his chest pressed against yours so you didn’t raise up and mess up the fort.

“There we go,” he sighed, letting you settle comfortably in the new position with your hands pressed against his shoulder and legs on either side of his waist, keeping his cock buried deep inside of you.

“Peter I-”

“Ah, ah, ah, my turn to speak now princess,” he cut you off, squeezing your hips when you moved around a bit too much for his liking, “Now, we’re going to work on our communication skills okay? Meaning, everything you’re feeling as I fuck you, I want you to tell me. And by everything, I mean every detail princess,” he lowered his voice, “I want to know how my cock feels inside of you, what goes through your mind while you fuck yourself sensless,” He rutted his hips up, smiling when you fell further against his chest, whimpering into his neck.

“I. Want. To. Hear. Every. Word,” he punctuated each word with the thrust of his hips, “Or else this ends, you got that princess,?”

You instinctively nodded but quickly caught yourself, “Yes Peter,”

“That’s my good little princess,” he took your cheek into his palm, bringing your head and to press his forehead against his, “Ready?”

“Yes Petey,” you nodded, letting out a shaky moan when he started bouncing you up and down his length, meeting you halfway.

“Go on princess,”

“It- it feels good,” you stuttered, closing your eyes to focus on the pleasure and not Peter’s lustful eyes staring back at you, “You’re… you’re really big Peter. Stretching… me out… so, so good,”

“Good girl,” he groaned, quickening his pace with every word, “Keep going.”

“I… I-” you slumped fully against his chest, “I can’t, all i feel is you Petey. I- I can’t think, all I… I could only feel-”

“Then tell me what you feel Y/n, tell me everything.”

“Amazing… so- so full and deep.” your fingers digged into his skin, “Could you go faster? Please Peter, I- I need more,”

“Anything for you princess,” he mumbled, planting his feet on the floor and ramming into you at the same pace he did with his fingers.

“Ah fuck!” you tightened your arms around his neck, “Peter! Oh god Peter! I- I-”

“Are you close princess? Gonna cum on my cock?”

You nodded into his neck, all you could manage was a whimper, “Yes… can- can i?”

“Go ahead princess, cum on my cock… you deserve it,”

You bit down on the skin of his neck, trying to keep your head from throwing itself back. Peter stilled his hips, filling you up with his seed while keeping you close, sighing as shot up into you. You sunk into his body, your breath hot against his skin while you regained your energy, snuggling closer for comfort.

In the silence that followed, Peter couldn't help but chuckle.

“Round two then?”

...

“Soo,” Peter whispered softly, crawling back into the sheets and lying besides you, “Why the pillow fort,”

You cuddled closer to his bare chest, letting out a soft breath once your cheek made contact with the warm skin. No matter how cold the air around him got, you could always count on your boyfriend to be your own personal heater.

“Was feelin’ lonely,” you mumbled, letting out a big yawn, “And I got bored,”

Peter chuckled, running his hand down your bare back sending shivers up your spine, “It’s nice, comfortable,”

“Yeah, I did a pretty good job didn’t I?” You smiled, curling your legs around his, “Took me three tries to get it right,”

“Three tries?”

“Well my college dorm doesn't really have much stuff to work with now does it,” you looked up at him with hooded eyes, blinking slowly while jabbing your finger into his left peck drowsily, “Would’ve been easier if my boyfriend came earlier though,”

“I thought you liked that I lasted long-”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“That’s not what you said a few minutes ago,” He laughed when you smacked his chest, placing a sweet peck to your forehead as an apology, “And I’m sorry for being late, got caught up with some bad guys and well… you know the drill,”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” You hid your face in his neck, snuggling in closer to his body, “Shouldn’t you be back at the house by now?”

He sighed. Harry had asked him to help out with cleaning up the house for your hopeful arrival in the next couple of days. Him and the rest of the boys planned out the week already, and today’s plan was to fix up the place and set new rules that kept it that way. But seeing you lying besides him, glowing like an angel by his side... words couldn't describe the emotions he felt in that moment. All he knew was that he couldn't wait, he felt like he waited long enough.

That this could be the perfect, special moment he hoped for.

“They could survive without me for one night,” His hand tightened around you, “I- uh, actually came here to ask you about something until we got... well, distracted,” he laughed lightly.

You hummed, acknowledging his statement and urging him to continue.

“I was wondering if you would want to move in with me?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” you sat up on your elbow to look at him directly, “You’re saying you want me to- you want us to live together? With everyone?”

You felt Peter clam up under your palm, biting his lip as he avoided your gaze, “I mean, you’ve already met everyone and they all love you, probably way more than me. And I can’t you know, guarantee your safety here not to mention i have to disable all the cameras around the block if i want to swing into your window and, and-” he took a deep breath, taking your face in his hands, “That and I really love you, and I would love to take this step with you, only if you want to,”

You immediately engulfed up into a tight hug, awkwardly fitting yourself in his hold but you could hardly care about your uncomfortable position.

“Of course I would move in with you peter,” you smiled, pulling back to look at him, “Honestly, I’m growing tired of this small place anyways,”

“Good, that’s good,” he bit his lip, trying to suppress the urge to screech at the top of his lungs at the thought of your ever saying yes, “We- we’d sort all of this out in the morning,”

“Of course, of course,” you nudged your nose against his, “In the morning,”

Before he could lean in to kiss you, he heard something fall on the floor with a thud and without warning the sheets above you fell, slapping the both of you in the face.

“Maybe chairs with wheels wasn't the best choice for this,” you giggled, pushing up the sheets from your head.

“You think?” Peter joked along with you, helping to get rid of fabric blocking your eyesight.

He witnessed the blanket being pulled off of you, relieving your glowing skin and bright smile staring back at him. He knew he was taking the right step with you, he knew that you were the one for him because with a simple look or touch you made him a complete mess. He was wrapped around your finger just as much as you were around his.

And he couldn't be happier.

“To the bed?” he whispered.

“To the bed.” you responded, finally locking your lips on his, sealing in your love in the now fallen pillow fort.

...

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vodkassassin · 4 years ago

Text

This turned out longer than I intended! @k-l-ng

—

“Where are you going?!” Shang Qinghua demands, voice breaking on the very verge of hysterical.

Liu Qingge pauses in the door. “... Leaving.”

“To where?”

He glares over his shoulder at the An Ding peak lord. “A hunt.”

“No!” Shang Qinghua slams the scrolls in his arms down on the (rarely used) writing desk of Liu Qingge’s (also rarely used) office. His open palms slap loudly against the wood. “Liu-shidi, you can’t! There’s paperwork that you have to fill out for this quarter! Forms I need you to sign!”

Liu Qingge waves a hand dismissively. “Will do them when I get back.” He says.

Shang Qinghua blinks, watching as the taller man once again turns to leave. The An Ding peak lord clenches his jaw and releases a low growl, pushing against the desk. “No!”

A burst of qi enhances the movement, and sends the desk flying across the room to slam into the wall beside the door, barely an inch away from where Liu Qingge is standing. The scrolls and inkwell loll about but come to rest without being much disturbed.

Liu Qingge jerks back. His hand flies to the hilt of his sword, and he whips his head around to scowl incredulously over at his fellow peak lord, whose head is bowed.

“It’ll be too late then, we’ll already be well into the next quarter when you get back. Shidi has to go through the forms now.”

The words come out through gritted teeth. Shang Qinghua, head still bowed and shoulders tense, gripping at his own sleeves as he trembles, sits himself down on the cushion that had once been set before the desk. He lifts his head up, then, to stare at Liu Qingge expectantly, expression dull and flat.

“Shidi has to go through the forms now.” He says again.

“Okay,” Liu Qingge agrees, voice low. He removes his hand off his sword, even though he can still feel the tingling resistance of his fellow peak lord’s qi turning in the air of the confined space of the room.

He reaches out with a foot to prod at the desk that now sits beside him. Nothing happens, so he peers over at the silent Shang Qinghua warily before nudging the furniture a little ways over and sitting down beside it on the hard floor.

Liu Qingge eyes the assortment of scrolls and files with distaste, but he can feel the ceaseless stare of the An Ding peak lord boring holes into his back, so he grabs the first one of the pile and rolls it open.

It takes three hours to get through the whole stack. Shang Qinghua stays for the entire time, not once moving from his cushion, like he thinks that Liu Qingge will give up and leave without finishing the paperwork if he doesn’t stay and watch him to make sure. Which is ridiculous. Liu Qingge would never.

He glances down at the financial statement of the Bai Zhan sect allowance coffers for the last few months and curls his lip as he’s forced to dig around in the papers for the correct corresponding audit report, brush clenched tightly in the white knuckled grip of his other hand.

… Liu Qingge might.

Once he’s finished, he hangs his brush on its hook and glances regretfully at the window. The light of the day is already beginning to dim, giving way to the evening, and the optimal time for setting off on a journey has already passed. He might as well just stay the rest of the night in the sect and leave early the next morning for his planned hunting grounds, at this rate.

The Bai Zhan lord sighs, cracking the knuckles of his hand against his palm, and turns back to look at his uninvited guest. Shang Qinghua seems to have fallen asleep sitting up, somehow, while he was waiting for Liu Qingge to finish. He’s slumped down, head bowed toward the floor in a way that can’t be good for his spine, but nothing a little qi circulation won’t fix.

Liu Qingge climbs up from the floor and rubs the feeling back into his legs. They’re sore, after having been knelt upon for the past three hours without any sort of padding underneath him. Like a cushion. He leaves the desk where it is and crosses the room to nudge Shang Qinghua awake with his foot. He keeps one hand curled loosely round the hilt of his sword, in case the other man decides to blow up at him like he had earlier when Liu Qingge had suggested postponing the paperwork.

Instead, Shang Qinghua goes along with his nudge, falling almost bonelessly back against the cushion. He lifts his head drowsily, and looks up at Liu Qingge with some sort of confusion in his eyes. His gaze is distant, like he’s not quite seeing him yet.

“Did you forget where you are?” Liu Qingge asks coolly.

Shang Qinghua blinks slowly. “... Shidi?” It comes out in a mumble.

“The paperwork is done. Leave.”

“... Mmh….”

Liu Qingge feels his brow tick in irritation. He reaches down and grabs the squirrelly man by the collar of his robes, roughly lifting him up and onto his feet. It’s a harsh but efficient method to wake someone up and have them become fully alert quicker. He uses it on his peak disciples all the time.

Except, Shang Qinghua does not become alert. The moment Liu Qingge releases his collar, the man’s legs buckle beneath him, and the swordmaster is forced to catch him around the waist before he can go sprawling in a heap on the floor. Shang Qinghua’s head falls forward limply, like a doll’s, coming to rest against Liu Qingge’s chest.

It’s in that second that Liu Qingge realizes that something is wrong. Beyond Shang Qinghua having a sudden temper that is incredibly out of character for him, he’s running much too warm. Liu Qingge only wears a modest four layers, but his robes are thickly and tightly woven, purposed for battle and sparring. They’re great for the cold months, as they trap heat in, and work well in the hotter seasons because it takes the sun a bit longer to seep through the weave.

So, Liu Qingge should not be able to feel the heat pulsing from Shang Qinghua’s forehead when the man’s face has only been pressed against his robes for barely a handful of moments.

He fists a hand in the back of Shang Qinghua’s robes and pulls the man back slightly in order to get a look at his face, and curses. Rivers of cold sweat bead down from the An Ding peak lord’s brow, which is creased in pain. His eyes are closed, and from the added weight Liu Qingge is registering, the man might actually have fallen unconscious in his arms.

Liu Qingge glares across the room at the stack of paperwork he’d just finished, as if they are at fault for all his current problems, and then reaches down to scoop up Shang Qinghua’s legs. He hauls the smaller and much lighter cultivator over into his private rooms and lies him out on Liu Qingge’s bed.

Shang Qinghua curls in on himself, a tiny, breathless whimper escaping his mouth as he pants and gasps into the sheets. The cold sweat decorating his face soaks the pillow almost immediately.

Liu Qingge turns on his heel and heads out of the house. He marches down the path until he catches sight of a gaggle of disciples likely wandering from one training ground to another. Or maybe the eating hall, how the hell would Liu Qingge know. What time is it, dinner?

“You!” He calls, and something inside him curls, pleased, at the way all five of them jump at the sound, scrambling to stand at attention the very second they realize it’s him. “One of you go and summon Mu Qingfang. Immediately.”

“Shizun?” One of them asks, confused but nonetheless hurrying to unsheathe his sword and climb upon it before the others have a chance to do so.

Quick wits, that one. Liu Qingge might have to take him out on a hunt sometime. He commits the boy’s face to memory, and turns back toward the house.

“Make it fast,” he throws over his shoulder as he climbs back up the path.

He finds himself standing over Shang Qinghua, staring down at his fellow peak lord as the man lies curled up on his side on top of the covers. Shang Qinghua has his arms wrapped around himself like he’s somehow cold despite the raging fever that’s coursing through his body. Now that Liu Qingge is getting a better look at him, he can see that the man is incredibly pale, paler than can be healthy, and there are smudges beneath his eyes so dark that Liu Qingge isn’t sure how he missed them before. It’s almost as if Shang Qinghua had dipped his finger in soot and drawn them under each eye himself, they’re so distinct.

It makes something uncomfortable twist in Liu Qingge’s stomach. Shang Qinghua looks weak, in this moment, and usually the thought would make Liu Qingge scoff at him, because that is par the course with the An Ding peak lord, but he’s never seen any of his martial family look so… sickly, before.

He’s kneeling stiffly beside the bed when the door is thrown open to admit a frazzled looking Mu Qingfang, who takes one look at them both before marching over and kneeling directly on the bed to hover over Shang Qinghua.

“What happened?” The doctor demands, searching the unconscious and listless peak lord for injuries, his fingers roaming from pulse point to pulse point in an examination of his qi.

“He came to make me do paperwork,” Liu Qingge begins gruffly. “Stayed to make sure I’d do it. I did, but he fell asleep while he was waiting, and when I woke him up…” The swordmaster glares down at his knees, hands clenched in the fabric of his pants.

“What, shixiong?” Mu Qingfang asks, impatient. He’s got his palm pressed over Shang Qinghua’s heart, and the expression on his face isn’t a reassuring one.

“He couldn’t stand,” Liu Qingge grumbles, glare becoming more fierce for all that it doesn’t have a target other than his own hands. “He fainted, so I laid him on my bed and sent a disciple for you.”

Mu Qingfang sits back, both hands now pressed against Shang Qinghua’s chest. The low glow of his qi encircles them as it pours forth and into the An Ding peak lord’s channels.

“Did he seem at all off to you, before that? Was he perhaps acting in ways he normally does not?”

“... Yes.”

Mu Qingfang frowns at him, distracted as he is by his examination of his patient. “That doesn’t really give me any information, shixiong.”

“....” Liu Qingge shifts, like he’s some sort of junior disciple kneeling in punishment for disobedience. It’s what it feels like, almost. “He threw the table at me with his qi.”

The doctor actually pauses. His hands lift off Shang Qinghua as he stares over at Liu Qingge in surprise. The unconscious peak lord groans, and Mu Qingfang quickly returns to channeling him qi, but he still stares at Liu Qingge in shock.

“He… threw furniture at you? Why?”

Liu Qingge clears his throat. He turns his glare back to his knees. “I was leaving, for a hunt.”

“But didn’t you say he had paperwork for you?”

“... Yes.”

Mu Qingfang frowns in confusion. “Then what—” His eyes widen. “Liu-shixiong! You were going to leave without doing it?”

The Bai Zhan lord scowls defensively. “I would have done it when I got back!”

“From what I can recall, it’s almost time for the quarterly reports. If you’d left without doing your share, you would have made Shang Qinghua have to finish it all for you.” Mu Qingfang pins him with a narrow-eyed look. “How irresponsible of you, shixiong, trying to foist your duties off on our already clearly overworked martial brother. No wonder he reacted so violently, especially if…”

The doctor trails off, glancing down at Shang Qinghua as the man shifts under his hands. The An Ding peak lord whines softly into the pillow that’s been soaked in his own sweat, twisting under the covers as if he’s in pain. From how he’s been acting since Liu Qingge woke him up, he… probably is.

“If what?” Liu Qingge demands, rising up part way from where he kneels, eyes locked on the man currently taking up his bed.

But Mu Qingfang’s surged to his feet, distracted now. His patient is waking.

Shang Qinghua blinks up at them with bleary eyes. He only takes the time for a single, confused, wheezing breath before he’s trying to sit up. Both peak lords place a hand on either of his shoulders and guide him back down to the bed. Immediately, the An Ding peak lord looks stricken.

“No, no,” he says, eyes wide and face pale. “No, no, no, no! I need to — I need to go work! I don’t have time to… I—I’m gonna fall behind!”

“Lay down, shixiong,” Mu Qingfang gently insists.

“I’m gonna fall behind,” Shang Qinghua whimpers, tears leaking out of his eyes.

He takes a shuddering breath and brings both hands up, as if he’s contemplating fighting the both of them off, but then he scrubs at his face with them instead and releases another sad, hurt sound that makes Liu Qingge’s stomach tie itself in a knot.

“I’m gonna fall behind,” Shang Qinghua repeats, voice cracking. His eyes are glazed over and tearful.

“Shh, shixiong,” Mu Qingfang soothes, brushing back their martial brother’s sweat-soaked bangs with his hand. “It’s going to be okay.”

Liu Qingge is useless, helping to hold Shang Qinghua down and watching helplessly as the Qian Cao peak lord does his best to comfort him. It doesn't really work, but Mu Qingfang does eventually manage to coax Shang Qinghua back into a fitful sleep.

Liu Qingge crosses his arms over his chest. His hands shake with intensity, and so he clenches them into fists so tight that his knuckles turn a mottled white. He turns to stare at the doctor as the other man finishes tucking the blanket securely around a quietly sniffling Shang Qinghua’s shoulders.

“So?” He demands.

Mu Qingfang is silent for a moment, gazing down at his new patient with an unreadable expression. Slowly, he shakes his head, and Liu Qingge unclenches and clenches his fists as he waits for a response.

Finally, Mu Qingfang sighs and runs a hand through his hair, disrupting its previously neat style. “This should not have happened,” he says quietly. “This should not have been able to happen.”

“What shouldn’t have?” Liu Qingge grits out.

“Any of this!” Mu Qingfang exclaims, and sits back down on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb its sleeping occupant. “He should not have even gotten to this point! His workload shouldn’t be heavy enough to cause any of this, and yet…”

“It has,” Liu Qingge says, and uncrosses his arms in order to wrap his hands around the hilt of his sword. “He’s doing his own workload, in addition to much of the work of the other peaklords, including…” He struggles not to unsheathe his sword, because the only enemy in this situation is himself. His voice lowers a pitch out of shame. “Including me.”

“And me,” Mu Qingfang is quick to add, looking down at his fitfully slumbering patient with a sorrowful expression on his face. “I cannot deny that I have also pushed some of my own responsibilities onto his shoulders, upon occasion. Alone, it wouldn’t be much, but if I and ten other peak lords are doing it, then…”

“The workload grows exponentially,” Liu Qingge finishes, scowling. He gestures with his chin at the unconscious peak lord in his bed, and says, “What else, then? He’s been shouldering it for decades now. If he was going to break under the strain it would have happened before now.”

Mu Qingfang gives a slow nod, reaching out to press the back of his hand against Shang Qinghua’s forehead to check on his fever. The grimace that decorates his face makes Liu Qingge glare at the floor, especially when the doctor gently grabs Shang Qinghua’s too-thin wrist and once again begins circulating qi through the connection.

“His cultivation level is much too high to allow for any natural sickness. His core would flood his immune system and destroy any disease that attempts to take hold. For him to even get sick in the first place, let alone this terribly — his core would have had to face a tremendous imbalance.”

“A qi deviation?” Liu Qingge pushes off the wall and begins to pace furiously. “Impossible. We’d have noticed.”

Mu Qingfang turns his head away, passing qi into his patient in silence.

Liu Qingge stops, and glares at the man. “Someone would have noticed,” he says tightly.

The doctor doesn’t respond. The tenseness of his shoulders, however, speaks for him.

Liu Qingge turns on his heel and storms out of the house.

#svsss prompts #scumbag system #shang qinghua #liu qingge #Mu qingfang #vodka answers #vodkassassin fanfiction #k-l-ng #pre slash #MuShangLiu #mushang #liushang

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mischievouslittlecreature · 2 years ago

Text

Bedside Manner

Fandom: The Dark Knight Trilogy

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x OC

Summary: He really does worry about her too much.

Series: Part 3 of The Shadow Game

Word Count: 3,276

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“Are you still dizzy?” he asked as they made their way down the hallway, pulling his keys from his pocket and unlocking the apartment door.

“A little,” she admitted. “Mostly just feel loopy, though.”

“Not right now,” she yawned.

“Tea?”

She wasn’t really that thirsty either, but he seemed to need something to do, else he would begin fussing.

“Sure.”

Cuddling the worn blanket closer to her, she watched with quiet fondness as he rushed away into the kitchen, fumbling with the kettle. He really did worry about her too much.

Good-bye, fallopian tubes. You will not be missed.

“Still feeling okay?” he asked, setting a mug of steaming tea carefully onto a coaster on the table next to her.

“Mhm. A little pain in my shoulders, but not too bad.”

He stroked the back of his hand along her cheek. “Okay.”

She waited until he got settled beside her, case notes on his lap and pen in hand, before she pressed the play button on the remote, snuggling down into the couch.

She was asleep before even thirty minutes had passed.

She woke up still on the couch. The television was on but outside it was dark. Her blanket was tucked up to her chin, and she was warm.

“Jonathan?” her eyesight was blurry, mind still half asleep. Curled up beside her, he stirred, immediately bending over her.

“You okay? Are you in pain?”

“No, ‘m okay,” she yawned. “A little hungry.”

“I’ll heat something up for you. What do you want?”

“We still have some of that chicken parm soup left?”

“I think so. You want that?”

“Yeah.”

“After you’ve eaten you can take your pain meds.”

“Do you want to go to bed?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he tucked a lock of long black hair behind her ear.

“If you’re sure…” the words were spoken even as she inched closer to him, humming as his arm wrapped around her, being careful not to put any pressure on her incisions.

“Mhm,” he hummed in affirmation.

“Okay, then.”

“Nessa?”

“Nauseous?”

She just nodded, taking a deep breath, as if that would somehow help settle her stomach. “Haven’t actually been sick, though.”

Shifting so that he was sitting beside her, he rubbed her back. “Do you want me to call the doctor?”

“No. It’s not that bad,” squirming a bit, she groaned. “Shoulders hurt more this morning too.”

“I’m sorry.”

She just shrugged. These were all normal side effects, nothing to be too concerned about yet. But they still sucked.

Stretching his head around to check the time on the clock hanging from the wall, Jonathan huffed. “You can’t take your pain meds without eating something.”

She groaned softly at the suggestion of food, stomach writhing. Jonathan increased the circles he was rubbing into her back.

“Once you’re outside of the twenty-four hour window, the nausea should get better. Think you could handle some crackers?”

“I can try.”

They waited until they were confident that she wasn’t going to throw the crackers back up before she took her painkillers.

“Let’s go back to bed. It won’t be good for your pain to sit on the hard floor like this.”

“I might puke on you,” she warned, even as she let him pull her slowly to her feet and guide her back to the bedroom.

“That’s okay.”

When she woke up, she took one look at Jonathan, who was sitting up in bed beside her, one arm still around her while the other balanced a book in front of him, and promptly burst into tears.

“Vanessa?” the second he heard her sniffling the book was slammed shut and deposited on the bedside table, hand reaching for her as he tried to discern what was wrong. “Are you in pain?”

“Sorry. I don’t–I don’t know where that came from.”

“It’s okay,” his hand was still resting warmly on her back. “Sure you’re alright?”

“Mhm,” blinking, she looked around the room in a daze. “Not nauseous anymore either.”

“That’s good.”

“Well,” she sighed–again, ow–and ran a hand through her hair. “That was weird.”

“Probably just post-op blues.”

“Probably.”

“How’s the pain?”

“More than yesterday, but not that bad.”

“Tomorrow it will likely be the worst.”

“Mm,” she laid her head on his chest. “More fun to look forward to. What were you reading?”

He lifted the book so that she could see the cover.

“Oooo. Nice.”

“Want me to read it to you?” he asked, opening it back up to his bookmark, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

“Actually, yeah.”

Cheek warm thanks to being pillowed against his chest, she let the sound of his voice settle her, working like a balm over her aching bones.

Just as Jonathan had predicted, she woke up on the third day in agony.

“Jonathan,” she barely managed to get his name out, nearly doubling over. He was still asleep beside her. Whimpering, she pawed at his chest desperately. “Jonathan.”

He woke up fast, asleep one moment and all but shooting up, eyes open wide, in the next.

“What is it?” he bent over her, hands cupping her face.

But she could hear his heart hammering fast as a hummingbird’s wings in his chest, and she couldn’t help but wonder which of them in that moment was more scared.

That shouldn’t be a problem, so long as she continued to improve.

He was going to drive her insane.

Okay, more insane than she already was.

“What are you doing up?”

Oh, come on.

“I was just getting a glass of water–”

“You’re supposed to be resting,” he swooped over, plucking the empty glass from her hands.

“I don’t think that walking the three steps from the living room to the kitchen is gonna cause me to keel over, babe.”

He pointed to the couch sternly. “Go lay back down.”

“Okay, okay, geez,” she shuffled back to the couch, plopping down and pouting. “Dr. Crane is mean.”

“He wouldn’t need to be if Dr. Sullivan wasn’t known for overexerting herself.”

“Oh my god, that was one time–”

“You tried to go to the kickboxing gym one day after you were diagnosed with a concussion.”

Huffing dramatically, she pulled her blanket back up to her chin. “Your bedside manner needs work.”

“My bedside manner is excellent.”

“Jonathan, we did our residencies together. I’ve seen you interact with difficult patients.”

He came over to the couch with her water. “Name one time that I was unreasonable when working with patients.”

“You prescribed high dosage sedatives for a woman because she kept flirting with you!”

“Nes, that was you.”

She blinked. “Oh, was it? Damn.”

He chuckled and kissed her forehead.

“Okay, but I know it was you who gave one of the patients a hallucinogen because he sneezed on you.”

Jonathan shrugged. “I was just teaching him basic manners. You cover your nose when you sneeze, everyone knows that.”

Vanessa snorted out a giggle, reaching back to cup his face and kiss him chastely on the lips. When they parted, she huffed, blowing a raspberry. He raised a questioning eyebrow. “I’m bored.”

“You have your book.”

“I finished it already,” she grumbled, glancing at the well loved copy of ‘Salem’s Lot on the coffee table. “I miss work.”

“You remember what the surgeon said…”

“Maybe…when I go back to the asylum, I can bring you some of your case notes to work on,” he suggested. Vanessa tilted her head up to look at him.

“Really?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

Stretching up, she pecked his cheek. “Thank you.”

He looked down, blushing and stuttering. It was cute how even after how long they’d been together, he still got so flustered sometimes when she showered him with her affection.

He’d brought her some of her case notes to work on, finally providing a bit of relief from the boredom of being bound to the couch all hours of the day.

“Hi.”

“Hey. Is it raining outside?” she asked, taking note of the slight dampness coating his hair.

“Only a little,” he lifted the bag he had dangling from one hand. “I brought food.”

Stacking her notes into a neat pile, she tossed them onto the coffee table. “I love you.”

As soon as he was on the couch, she handed him his food, settling her own container from the bag in her lap and scooting closer to him, cozying up to his side.

“I missed you,” her lips pressed insistently to his cheek, where a dimple sometimes appeared when he smiled. Jonathan shot her a look that she could only describe as soft, leaning into her touch.

“I missed you too,” his hand stroked over her thigh. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. Still a little tired, I guess.”

“Hm,” he hummed, reclining back against the couch, pulling her with him until she was nestled close to his side.

“How was work?” she asked around a mouthful of her pasta, twisting another helping carefully around her fork.

“Alright. A few people asked about you. Johnson had another episode and almost swallowed his own tongue. They’re keeping him in the infirmary for a while.”

“Oh, well. At least he didn’t die, the paperwork would have been a nightmare.”

“Jonathan?” she poked him suddenly in the shoulder, rousing him from the slight doze he had slipped into.

“What?”

Tracing nonsense patterns into his chest, she shrugged. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

His thumb stroked along her jaw, tilting her head upwards so that he could peck her on the lips.

“Always.”

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

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Series: Part 3 of The Shadow Game

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#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x oc #the dark knight trilogy #vanessa sullivan #vanessa sullivan x jonathan crane #my ocs #fanfiction #bedside manner #my fanfiction

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