#i said y'all will be getting FIC today :)
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3 and nineteeeeen 🩷
hi hi hi!! my apologies for not answering this yesterday but, hopefully, i come bearing gifts (answers)!! thank you for sending these in!! xo
3. How would you describe your writing style? verbose and granular? ever since i have been putting word down on paper, it has been my god-given curse to say things with the most words possible. and as i've gotten older and written more, and especially when i was getting my degree, i've noticed (and it has been told to me by many advisors lol) that i focus on the very, very granular, small details of a scene-- almost too much. i'm not sure why? it's sort of like, everyone can understand the Big Themes of a character like grief or love or anger (or, if not one-for-one, it's a general Concept readers are familiar with and can move through the story having a Shape of Understanding). but do you know what i mean when i say this character's hands get almost-rug burned when hanging up water-logged denim on a clothes line because they're really exhausted (but can't tell anyone) and their hand grip is trembling in short pulses opposite their heartbeat so it feels like a foreign force in their body causing the difficulty? that's where it's at for me. i love that.
19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it. ...maybe if i post this early enough in the morning god won't see it... my apologies; never posted anything like this before... [and dropping you right in the middle of it too]
“Fuck…. Fuck… Matty.” George had to speak in the undertone of his whines—like his words had to catch a ride. He wasn’t sure how to speak any other way. Everything felt overwhelming. “So—So…”
“Yeah… Yeah… I know.” Matty muttered, his eyes clenched tightly shut. He didn’t stop easing his hips forward.
“Matty,” The word felt flat—blunt—in George’s mouth. His entire body tightening and seizing while Matty’s name, uncontrollable and probably the only word he could think of in the moment, pushed against his throat begging to be moaned, whined, cried, pushed through clenched teeth—“Fuck, Matty. Matty…”
“You okay?” Matty was out of breath, panting as he was finally flush against George’s body. “Does this feel okay?”
“I think I’m going to black out.” George said somewhat jokingly. The joke really was that every time George closed his eyes, he was sure he had. His mind had never been so blank before. “Oh—Oh fuck.”
Even with Matty unmoving and against him, George’s entire body was beginning to seize up like he wanted to come apart immediately. The heat of Matty’s body draped over him and nearly pinning him down; Matty hovering over George’s and letting George see him screw his eyes shut and mutter to himself as he bottomed out; the obscene stretch Matty demanded of George’s whole body—the way George felt like every time he tried to focus on relaxing, on giving into the pressure and on taking more of Matty in, he swore there was more and more to take. George was begging to have some internal—maybe mental—seam pop and all of him come clattering out; spill everywhere and not care about finding all the pieces.
#again.... sorry but also? hey it's 8am and i'm feeling wild and bold i guess#i said y'all will be getting FIC today :)#asks#answered#genuinely going to press post and turn away from all devices for five minutes... i'm feeling so EXPOSED in my writing lol#workshop was scary than this...
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𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐩 | art donaldson
summary ― .゚ ˖ art is your tennis coach, but after he tells you to "loosen up" a bit, you're not sure if your boundaries are strictly professional anymore.
warnings ― .゚ ˖ MINORS DNI ! ( 18+ ) | language, graphic smut, unprotected sex ( wrap it before u tap it y'all ), soft!dom!art, sub!reader, sexual tension, art gives reader a massage, praise kink, p in v sex, fingering, if i missed anything, please let me know!
word count ― .゚ ˖ 3.2k +
pairing ― .゚ ˖ standford!art donaldson x fem!stanford!reader
author’s note ― .゚ ˖ saw challengers the other day .... its all i can think about rn so i made a fic! hope u enjoy! also i know nothing about physical therapy so if this makes no sense I'm sorry
publishing date ― .゚ ˖ may 5th, 2024 | © HEARTSHAPEDMISERY
tags ― .゚ ˖ @madnessandobsession @hashtagtobefuckinghonest @mitskilover23
A bead of sweat rolled down your temple as your feet carried you quickly across the tennis court, your eyes refusing to leave the bright yellow ball that was coming towards you from the opposite side of the net.
"Keep your eye on the ball, sweetheart!" Art barked, a few blonde strands of his hair falling in his eyes as he watched you simply miss the ball once again.
The nickname caught you off guard, dismantling your focus and causing you to falter your movements. Your arm swung out far enough, but your racket was just below the ball, allowing it to fly right over it and hit the concrete behind you. A tinge of pain seared through your right shoulder, making you wince.
"Shit!" You grumbled in annoyance, your eyes refusing to meet Art's since you knew he would scold you for your miss.
You threw the racket in your hand down at your feet, irritated that you hadn't kept the ball going back and forth between you and Art for more than 2 times in your last 5 tries.
Your mind was somewhere else; normally you were a beast on the court, dominating your competition (all thanks to Art). Today, not so much.
"What was that, the 6th time?" Art scoffed, waving his racket about in the air. "What's wrong with your shoulder?" he pointed his racket in your direction, a look of concern written on his face.
You didn't answer him, walking off the court over to the bench and grabbing your water bottle. He followed you, taking the bottle from your hand when you were done and squirting the liquid into his mouth. Your eyes watched him carefully, following the water droplets as a few fell from the corner of his mouth.
"You're tense, I can see it all over you when you're moving around out there," he said, motioning to your shoulders and neck. Your eyes caught the way his polo clung to his toned chest, sweat starting to seep through from his constant movement.
"I'm fine," you told him, shrugging his words off. "Just a little distracted, is all."
A lopsided grin cracked across his face, not buying your excuses.
"Come here," he motioned for you to move towards him, which you hesitantly responded to before walking to him. Carefully, his hands grabbed your shoulders and spun you around, your back meeting his front harsher than you had expected.
Your heartbeat quickly picked up, the feeling of his hands on your bare shoulders felt hot and heavy on your skin.
This wasn't the first time Art has caught you off guard like this. You had noticed over the past few months how touchy he could be, whether he was correcting your form or bidding you good job after a match with a rub on the back.
And no matter how much you denied it, you couldn't help but love every second of it. Despite being your coach, he had an effect on you that no one else did. He drove you wild, but of course, he never realized that.
At least, you thought he didn't.
"Your shoulders are very tight, especially your right one. That's why you're not getting a lot of movement," he spoke softly in your ear, his fingers running up the sides of your arms before finally gripping your shoulders. His fingers squeezed your flesh gently, burning against your skin enough to make you let out a sigh he undoubtedly heard.
"You need to loosen up a little bit, sweetheart. All this stress is messing you up, and we can't have that." his voice was smooth and sultry, a total contrast to what it had been only moments before on the court.
His fingers kneaded at the muscles at the top of your back, working out all of the kinks and knots that inhabited your shoulders. Your eyes quickly fell shut as you leaned into his touch, getting lost in the feeling of his hands on you.
"Ah," you breathed out, the feeling of his thumb reaching a spot that unraveled the tension in your right shoulder. "Right there."
You couldn't see it, but a wide smile bloomed across his face at your words, his thumb moving to massage the muscle deeper than before. You let out a breath groan, which (as much as he hated to admit it) indubitably went straight to his lower half.
He didn't expect you to be so responsive to his touch. It surprised him, but that didn't mean he was opposed to it.
"Yeah?" He breathed. "Does that feel better?"
He knew exactly what he was doing, even though you were so oblivious to his shenanigans.
"Yes," you groaned, allowing your head to fall back slightly. You breathed in deeply as he continued his work at your muscles, watching you revel in the relief at the top of your back.
To anyone else, his actions only looked like a coach helping his player work out an injury. But to you and Art, this was months of tension finally boiling over. The way his hands worked across your skin, the pleasurable sighs you let out. It was the two of you crossing a boundary you had never expected to abandon.
"Art!" a voice sounded from the opposite side of the court, making your eyes snap open. His hands stopped their movements, but he didn't remove them from your shoulders as he looked over his shoulder at whoever was trying to get his attention.
It was Mike, the Athletic Director at Stanford.
"Mike," he stated, greeting him with a nod. His voice almost sounded disappointed, not appreciating that he had interrupted the two of you. "What can I do you for?"
His hands finally left your shoulders, your skin feeling dull and light from their wake. You quickly snapped yourself back to reality, brushing away the hot feeling in your chest as you watched the exchange between Art and Mike.
"I just have some paperwork for you to fill out for the semester," he said, "Won't take long."
You watched Art's expression lighten, giving him a slight nod before agreeing to meet him in his office and Mike dismissing himself from the court.
Your gaze met Art's as he turned back to grab his gym bag off the bench and slung it over his shoulder. You watched him carefully, before taking your own bag off the bench.
"Put some ice on that shoulder," he pointed to your right side as he slipped his Ray Bans onto his face to shield his eyes from the sun. "I'll come check on it later, okay?"
You nodded, your mind already racing at the thought. You watched him as he walked away from your view, a feeling of excitement and confusion bubbling in your chest.
You didn't see him again until after lunch. You had been wandering around your small apartment in nothing but a tank top and pajama shorts (due to the blistering California heat outside) with a bag of ice taped around your shoulder, trying to keep your mind occupied until Art arrived.
Your afternoon classes had been canceled so you decided to take it easy at home, trying to keep your arm relaxed as much as possible.
When you heard a simple knock at your door, the feeling from earlier that morning had returned, rising in your chest and making your neck hot at the thought of him. He stood nonchalantly at your door when you swung it open, greeting him with a warm smile.
"Hey," you said, moving out of the way to let him in. He sent you a small smile back, following you into your tiny living room.
"How's the shoulder?" he rasped, taking a look at the ice pack on your arm that was starting to leak.
"Pretty good, hasn't really changed much. Still a little sore, though." you told him honestly, still confused as to why you had tweaked it so bad.
"Mind if I take a look at it?" he asked, gently running his hand up the side of your arm. The sensation sent chills down your spine as you nodded simply. He had to stop doing that or else you were going to go crazy.
"Here, sit down between my legs with your back towards me," he motioned to the couch, sitting behind you before moving to remove the athletic tape from the ice pack. You could feel his warmth behind you, his breath hot against your shoulder as he peered at your injury.
Your breath hitched as you felt his finger hook under the right strap of your tank top, your head turning slightly to catch his eye.
"Do you mind if I move this down?" he asked gently, eager to make sure you were okay with him touching you like this. You nodded, a little quicker than you had anticipated.
"Yeah, that's fine," you breathed, before turning back around. Carefully, he pulled the strap down, exposing your bare shoulder to him. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his calloused hands against your smooth skin, his fingers slowly beginning to knead at your muscles.
"I feel a lot of tension here still," he told you, his hand gently moving to raise your arm up slightly over your head. You felt a pop in your joints, an instant feeling of relief washing through your shoulder. A breathy moan escaped your lips at the movement, grateful that it felt better already.
"Shit," you breathed, thankful for his skillful hands. "That feels good."
Art let out a breathy laugh, making your heart swell. "Lean back against me, I want to try something."
You followed his instructions, your back meeting his toned chest, sinking into his embrace. The smell of his cologne invaded your senses, making you sigh.
Carefully, he wrapped his arm around your collarbone, his left hand laying flat against the front of your shoulder while his right hand gripped the back of your bicep where your arm met your shoulder.
His hands were slow and gentle but still had you unwinding more with each movement. His left hand gently pushed your shoulder back as his right pushed your arm forward, earning another pop in your joints.
"Oh my god," you groaned under your breath, your hand subconsciously moving to grip his muscular forearm without realizing it.
"That's it, sweetheart," he cooed in your ear as you let out a sigh of relief. "Does that feel better?"
'So much better," you told him honestly, still holding onto his arm. Your eyes quickly fell down to it, an idea circling in your mind before your hand slowly began to move. He watched you carefully, his eyes following your freshly manicured hand moved to settle over his, before carefully moving his hand down your chest.
"But I think I'm still a little tense, Art," you breathed, biting your lip as his fingers ghosted over your hardened nipple before you moved it down further to your abdomen. His mind finally caught on to what you were trying to get at, a sly smirk cracking across his face.
"Could you help me?" you whispered, settling his hand on your lower stomach, dangerously close to where you wanted him most.
He didn't respond, his hand simply moving from underneath yours and allowing his fingers to slip underneath the waistband of your skimpy shorts, your breath hitching. He moved his free hand from your arm and down to your thigh, gently spreading them apart.
You felt him exhale a deep breath, before finally answering your request. "Of course. Anything to help my star player."
His fingers broke the barrier of your panties just as the words left his mouth, dipping into your soaked core without warning. You let out a moan as his lips pressed gentle kisses to your bare shoulder before moving up your neck and settling just below your ear.
His middle and ring fingers played at your clit, rubbing it gently before dipping back into you, curling his fingers inside of you sweetly.
A moan sounded from your plump lips, your head falling back on his shoulder. Your hand gripped his bicep as he continued to give you what you wanted, writhing in pleasure at his movements.
You could feel his hard-on press into your back as you sunk into his embrace, turning you on even more.
"How does that feel, baby?" he rasped, kissing your temple as he could feel you beginning to unravel on his fingers. "Is this what you wanted?"
You whimpered, biting your lip as you nodded your head. "Yes!"
As his fingers moved quickly inside of you, you felt his free hand wrap around your torso before moving up to your chest, his fingers ghosting over your hardened nipple.
"Please, Art," you whimpered, so close to your high. He took your words as a sign to keep going and allowed his fingers to fondle your breast, which sent you over the edge.
"Fuck, I'm-" you whined, your words caught dead in your throat as your orgasm washed over you, a defeated moan sounding from your chest.
He was mesmerized as he watched you, the way your head kicked back against his chest and you gripped his thigh as you came down from your climax. The pure ecstasy was seeping from you, and it drove him wild that he brought you to this state.
Carefully, he removed his fingers from your soaked core, bringing them to his mouth before sucking them clean. Your head snapped around to watch him, going feral at the way he reveled at the taste of you. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him.
Your hands cupped the sides of his head, your fingers running through his blonde locks of hair. His eyes fell on your wet, plump lips before he smashed his own against them without warning.
A whine of approval sounded from the back of your throat, your body quickly crawling into his lap, straddling him as you sunk deeper into the kiss. His hands ran up the sides of your thighs before settling on the flesh of your ass, squeezing it as he held your core down against his hard-on.
His lips finally pulled away from yours, both of you out of breath as you met each other's gaze once again. He was quick to attack your neck, leaving sloppy and wet kisses all over your skin as he rocked your hips over his erection for any sort of release he could get.
Your fingers tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck, earning a low groan to sound from his chest, which went straight to your core. You were growing impatient, pulling away from him in order to tug your tank top over your head. His eyes fell to your bare chest, a look of pure lust haunting them.
You quickly stood up from his lap to remove your shorts along with your underwear, giving him the opportunity to rid himself of his clothes as well. Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head as his hard-on slapped against his lower stomach once he pulled his boxers off, his tip reddened and already leaking with precum.
"Come here, baby," he said soothingly, his hands pulling you back into his lap once more, your bare chest flush with his. Your faces were inches apart, your lips parted as you watched him reach between your bodies and grasp his cock, slowly giving it a few pumps before he aligned himself with your core.
You raised your hips a little, hovering over him to allow him to guide himself into you, a deep moan ripping from your chest when you finally sank down on him.
"Fuck," he groaned, the feeling of your wet core overriding his senses. You stretched around him so sweetly, taking him so well he couldn't help but moan.
Your hands settled comfortably on his shoulders, using them to help stabilize yourself as you began to rock your hips into a steady motion. You couldn't help but bite your lip, unable to keep your moans from falling out of your mouth.
He filled you to the brim, reaching a part of you deep inside that had never fully been satisfied. It made you ecstatic; you couldn't get enough of him.
"Fuck me, Art," you moaned, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck. "Fuck me hard."
He let out a shaky breath at your bluntness but obeyed you nonetheless. His hands gripped your hips roughly before he began a steady pace of fucking up into you, making you reel your head back in pleasure.
"Look at you, taking me so well," he moaned in between whimpers of pleasure, gripping your hips harder as he quickened his thrusts. You were a blubbering mess at this point, your head falling to the crook of his shoulder to muffle your cries.
His arm wrapped around your torso to keep you steady, his free hand moving to rake through your hair and pull your head back up to meet his gaze. He watched you intently as tears formed in your eyes, your orgasm not too far away.
"So pretty," he cooed, cupping your face. "All for me, right?"
"I'm yours, Art," you whimpered, clawing at his bicep as you felt yourself tipping over the edge. "All yours. Fuck, I'm close!"
Your moans were like music to his ears, sounding so melodic as your eyes fluttered shut in lust. With a few quick final thrusts, your second orgasm washed over you, making you writhe with pleasure as a nearly pornographic moan ripped from your chest.
He gripped your hips as he stilled his movements, his eyes intently watching you as your face contorted with your climax. He nearly came at the sight, letting out a shaky moan as you slumped back against him, completely fucked out.
"Fuck," you breathed, looking up at him as he panted heavily, a lazy smile on his face.
Suddenly, you remembered he hadn't come yet, and your body was already sliding off of him and sinking to your knees between his legs before you could even think otherwise.
"Wait, no you don't have to-" he assured you as he sat up, but you were already shushing him and taking him into your hand, gently pumping him as you gripped his thigh for leverage.
His eyes were blown out with lust as he watched you jerk him off, relaxing into your touch as a whimper escaped his throat. You looked so sexy sitting in between his legs, so eager to help him reach his climax. It didn't take long before he was letting out a guttural groan and painting your chest with his release.
His chest heaved up and down as he pulled himself back together, taking in your appearance before him. He never wanted to forget you like this; your face flushed and dewey with sweat from the orgasm he had just given you.
"Sorry, baby," he breathed, sitting up to grab your tank top and wipe you clean with it. You sent him a small smile, thankful for the gesture before you got back on the couch next to him and curled into his side. He grabbed the blanket that was hanging over the back of the couch and laid it over the two of you, trying to make you as comfortable as possible.
The sudden realization that you had just fucked your tennis coach began to seep into your brain as you felt the warmth of his skin on yours, goosebumps running down your spine at the thought.
Fuck, this was going to make for an interesting practice tomorrow. . .
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next of kin | S.R.
disaster strikes and you and Spencer try to take custody of your younger sister
part two
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: actually might be gn! but i'm too scared to say it is. death, orphan-ing, funerals, child custody issues, blood, general cm violence, like actually an abhorrent amount of death. sorry i killed your parents for the sake of my fanfiction can we still be friends? word count: 3.33k a/n: this is the fic that this post is about. i am in fact my own worst enemy. i hope y'all like it actually genuinely i am most definitely overthinking this. if your name is maya im sorry that sucks.
“What did your parents say?” Spencer asked, walking into the conference room that the local precinct had offered to you.
You had been staring blankly at your phone since you got off the call with your mother, “Uh, they said thanks, but no thanks.”
The uneasy feeling had settled in your stomach as soon as you found out the team was being called to your hometown, and you had been nauseous ever since you found out the UnSub’s pattern.
Married couples with an older child who had moved out and a younger child who was still at home.
Your little sister was a surprise, you had incorrectly assumed your parents were done having kids.
Until today, you wouldn’t have traded Maya for the world, but now you sat in fear of your family being targeted by a serial killer. Hotch had offered them a protective detail, but they declined. Self-righteous as they were, they told you it wouldn’t feel right for them to accept help that couldn’t be offered to everyone.
Clenching your jaw, you stood at the table, “I’ll go by later and check in on them.”
Spencer had met your family twice by now. Last Christmas he had tagged along to meet them and celebrate with your family before the two of you spent New Year’s with his mom. Then, while your sister was on Spring Break, they flew out to Virginia, and you and Spencer had shown your family around Quantico and the District.
Maya had loved Spencer, partially because you loved him, but mostly because of his magic tricks.
“Do you want me to go with you?” He asked, stepping up next to you and placing a hand on the small of your back.
You sighed and shook your head, “No, not if you’re needed here.” You reached up and cupped his cheek, smiling softly, “Thank you for offering, Spence.”
He nodded affirmatively, “If you change your mind,” he offered. Gently, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before the two of you returned to the rest of the team.
The fact that your parents lived only five minutes from the police station gave you some relief, but you still felt tightly wound. Everyone had noticed. You just needed this case to be over.
The porch lights were on when you got there, and you used your house key – which you had never taken off of your keychain - to open the front door. “Hey, kiddo,” your dad greeted from the couch. A peek into the kitchen showed you that your mom was wiping down the counters. It all felt so eerily normal.
It was dark by the time you had gotten there. Maya was already asleep, but you tip-toed into her room anyway and kissed her goodnight before going back downstairs. Once you had hugged both of your parents and told them you loved them, you made your way back to the police precinct.
By nearly three in the morning, there was no new information, and the team was starting to consider calling it a night until the police chief got a call.
“We just got a call. Lady reported shouts coming from her neighbor’s house at 86 Meadowbrook,” he informed you, putting his hands on his hips and looking around at the team.
None of them even spared him a returning glance, everyone’s eyes were on you.
Blinking rapidly, you nodded assuredly, “I have to go get Maya.” You didn’t even recognize your voice even as you said it. It couldn’t have been your voice. That was the rasp of someone far away from you.
All of the other voices around you were muffled, you couldn’t hear what people were telling you, let alone understand them.
Maya. Maya. Maya.
Brown eyes. There they were, right in front of your face. “Let’s go get her,” Spencer whispered.
You had been speaking out loud. Repeating your sister’s name like a prayer without even realizing it.
Hotch let you go with them, but he made it abundantly clear to you – and the rest of the team – that you weren’t working this case anymore.
Surrounded by reverent voices in an SUV, JJ drove while Spencer stayed in the back with you. He held your hand tightly in his.
The house was closed off with police tape. Bright yellow plastic fluttered in the wind as you watched your team and other emergency personnel enter and exit. At your insistence, Spencer went in to get Maya, it felt like it had been hours before he walked out, carrying her in his arms.
Carefully, he brought her to you, and you pulled her close to your chest, blocking her eyesight as two body bags were brought out of the house.
You didn’t hear anything after that. You just let yourself be moved to wherever you needed to be, holding your kid sister as she cried for your parents.
They had to take their bodies to the hospital even though they were already gone, and you needed to be the one to confirm their identities. Spencer stayed with Maya while you were busy. She had cried herself to the point of exhaustion, you were grateful that she was sleeping, and then you felt cruel.
By sunrise, she was still asleep, and you had been set up in that same conference room from earlier. Sitting across from you was a social worker, a representative of the state. Your lips had parted in shock as you looked at her, “What do you mean they denied my request?”
In an attempt to be helpful, JJ worked with you to file an emergency request for custody of Maya, and the case worker had just told you that the request was denied. “The state doesn’t believe your request is valid,” she told you.
Your mouth went dry, “I don’t…” you glanced over at your little sister. “Our parents were murdered last night, and they won’t let me take custody of my sister?” You asked indignantly, peering at the social worker. It wasn’t her fault, somewhere in your grief-ridden brain you knew that, but you couldn’t help the feeling that she was somehow your enemy.
“They don’t believe you can provide her with a stable living environment,” the social worker, Brittany, explained.
Narrowing your eyes, you responded, “A stable living environment like a foster home? I’m her sister. We’re family – the only family each other has left.” You stood up, excusing yourself for a moment before walking out of the precinct. Once you were outside, you promptly hurled into the bushes.
That was how he found you, to the side of the building with your hair haphazardly moved out of your face, dry heaving into the shrubbery. Gently, Spencer placed a hand on your back before starting to rub small circles on your back, “You should eat something, love.”
You just shook your head in response, you weren’t hungry. “They won’t let me take her,” you whispered morosely, straightening up, you kept your back facing him.
“What?” He asked, his hand abruptly stopping its movement on your back.
Taking a deep breath and sitting on the curb, you looked up at Spencer. “The state thinks I’m not stable enough to take her in,” you said, resting your chin in your hands.
Your boyfriend crouched down so that he could sit next to you, “Are you going to challenge it?”
“Of course I am,” you cried. “But what happens to her in the interim, Spence? She gets placed with whatever foster home here and I go back to Virginia? I see her when the family court resolves this in two years?”
Treading carefully, Spencer cleared his throat, “What are you going to do?”
Defeated, you shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m…” your voice trailed off. “My parents are dead, Spencer,” you murmured softly, tears welling in your eyes.
He reached out and wrapped his arms around you, “I know, darling. I know. I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t think I can do this alone,” you whispered, leaning gently into him.
Spencer turned to kiss your temple, “It’s a good thing you’re not alone then. I’m not going anywhere.” He waited for a moment before continuing, “Give me something to do. Give me a job to take off of your shoulders.”
In the end, you let Spencer take over funeral planning. He thanked you for trusting him before the both of you went back into the precinct.
You had just hung up with a family lawyer who had offered to take your case, letting your phone drop to the floor, you let your arms hang at your side. Someone had taken Maya to get breakfast while you spoke with the lawyer.
At the sound of the phone falling to the floor, Spencer stepped into the conference room, letting the door click shut before him. “Hey, what did he say?”
Pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, you took in a deep breath, “Um, he said he’d be willing to take the case if I could put together a case plan to present before the judge.”
Before that phone call, you didn’t know what a case plan was, you could’ve gone your whole life without knowing what a case plan was.
“I need a year-long plan for how I’m going to prepare to have Maya in my custody, but he said a year is the best he can do,” you said, staring blankly at the wall ahead of you. “A year?” You whispered aimlessly, “I’m not waiting a fucking year to take custody of her. I have to take her home, Spence. I have to.” It wasn’t your intention to snipe at him, but you felt like you couldn’t help yourself.
The events of the last twelve hours threatened to take you down, but you had to stay strong for Maya.
Taking a shaky breath, you looked up at Spencer, “Why is it that every time I convince myself that it’s going to be okay, I get tossed to the ground again?” You asked him.
Maybe because you weren’t fully convinced. Maybe it was because it had only been seven hours. You needed to remind yourself of that.
“She’s a ward of the state?” Spencer asked for clarification, holding you tightly.
Nodding absentmindedly, you rested your head on his shoulder as he swayed gently. “She can stay with me until after the funeral, and after that, she has to go with the social worker.”
The sad look on Spencer’s face told you that he was running out of ideas, and you were coming to the very same conclusion. “We could get married,” he offered.
“Stop, Spence,” you said, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe this was where he was going.
He shrugged helplessly, “I’m serious, Y/N. If we get married, they might think we’re stable, as a couple. They might give us custody.”
Your shoulders slumped, “I don’t want to get married just to get custody of my sister.” It certainly wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry Spencer, just not like this.
He nodded understandingly, “I know, but I’m just saying. If that’s what it takes, then I’ll do it.” Placing a comforting hand on your knee, the two of you sat in silence for a moment. “Do you have any ideas?” He asked you carefully.
Looking through the blinds of the conference room, you saw the rest of the team coming back to the precinct. Setting your jaw, you nodded, “I might.”
Opening the door, you had Maya go in with Spencer while you approached your Unit Chief. “Hey,” Hotch said, a glint of sympathy in his eyes. “How are you holding up?” He pulled you away from the people, wanting to give you privacy.
This wasn’t fair, they were still working on an active case. A case that was disturbingly close to you, and yet, you felt you were out of options. “I need a favor,” you blurted to him, wringing your hands. Your nervous energy made it impossible for you to stay still.
Hotch nodded, “What do you need?” He asked, studying your composure with the eye of a profiler.
You took a deep breath, “I was… I need you to call in a favor with someone. Anyone, really. The state won’t let me take custody of Maya, but I can’t let her become a ward of the state. Not when I’m right here, ready, willing, and able to take her.”
“Okay,” he responded, not even pausing to think about it.
Taken aback, you looked at him curiously, “I- that’s it? I had groveling prepared.”
He nodded almost imperceptibly as if he was trying to tell you it wasn’t necessary. “You’ve been a part of this team for years and not once have you ever asked for anything in return for everything you do for everyone else. This is the least I can do,” he told you.
You couldn’t help it. Overwhelmed, you tackled Hotch in a bear hug, “Thank you.” Your voice was low, “Thank you so much.”
Succinctly, Hotch hugged you back before you pulled away, “I’ll go make some calls.”
It was the smell.
The smell that you’d sensed countless times before on the job, the metallic tang of the blood. It should’ve been mostly dried by now – you supposed you were more susceptible to the scent, considering it was your parent’s blood, but it put you on high alert.
Emily had brought you by so that you could pack a bag for Maya, but you found yourself stuck on the landing. To one side, there was your childhood bedroom and Maya’s room. On the other side, there was your parent’s room.
“Y/N?” Emily called your name from downstairs, “Are you alright?”
No, you wanted to say, but you bit your tongue, scanning the house you had grown up in. “This doesn’t belong here,” you told her, glancing behind you as she made her way up the staircase.
You didn’t have gloves, so instead you pointed at the figurine that was resting on the bookshelves, a little bear facing in the direction of your parent’s bedroom door. “This is in the wrong spot?”
Nodding, your eyes followed the ceramic bear as Emily picked it up with a gloved hand. “It’s mine, it should be in my room,” you informed her. Your parents never changed anything about your childhood bedroom, not since you moved out. “It was like it was watching them,” you thought aloud.
“Do you think the UnSub did it?” She asked you gently, her voice was low but steady.
Blinking rapidly, you kept your eyes focused on the figurine, “Little Bear,” you murmured, “They called her Little Bear.”
Emily shook her head in confusion, dark hair swaying as her head moved. “Who was called Little Bear?”
Dropping the bag you had packed to the floor, you buried your face in your hands, “I should’ve seen it sooner.” The victimology, it all suddenly made sense to you. “When I was a kid, there was a family like mine. A brother who was in his twenties when his parents had another baby, a girl. They called her Little Bear.”
Realization dawned on Emily’s dark features, “Like this bear?”
You picked up the bag and started making your way back down the stairs. “Their mother made those figurines. The parents died in a fire two weeks ago – they left everything to the younger sister. It was all over the news. God, I should’ve figured it out sooner.”
“Hey,” Emily said sympathetically, “You had other things going on. None of this was your fault.” Her voice was stern, harsher than you’d ever heard her, as she pulled out her phone and called the team.
Your teammate drove, passing the police station on the way to drop you off. They left for the takedown, and you felt yourself floating into the precinct. Maya was waiting in the conference room for you, watching cartoons on someone’s laptop.
Kneeling in front of your little sister, you tapped the space bar, pausing the video. “Hey, kiddo,” you whispered, reaching over, and smoothing her hair away from her face. “How are you feeling?”
She had cried herself to sleep earlier, and you felt like you hadn’t been around enough. Maya sat up on the couch and rubbed her eyes, they were red, but not teary. “I miss mommy,” she told you, pouting slightly.
You nodded gently, moving to sit next to her before you pulled her into your lap. At six years old, she was all gangly limbs, just starting to grow into her own person. Just old enough to understand death, “I know, baby. I miss them too.”
“They wouldn’t lemme go home,” she continued, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I wanted Thumper,” she whined, sounding younger than she was.
Looking up at the light, you silently begged for your tears to go away. “I got him for you,” you told her, reaching into your bag and producing the small stuffed bunny that you had given her as a baby.
You savored the way her eyes lit up as she grabbed the stuffed animal from you.
“So, you and Thumper are gonna come to stay with me in Virginia. Do you remember going there? You said you liked it?” You kept smoothing her hair back as she held her toy.
She was silent for a moment, “Will Spencer be there?” She asked quietly.
Smiling slightly, you nodded, “He and I live together, so he’ll be there with us.” Slowly, you started rocking back and forth, trying to soothe the both of you simultaneously.
“As long as he doesn’t pull money out of my ear,” she answered succinctly, shutting her eyes as she leaned up against you.
There was approximately an hour before you watched the team return to the precinct, slowly, you laid Maya down on the couch before walking out. “It was a clean shoot,” you heard Rossi tell Morgan, and one look at the rest of them told you everything you needed to know.
The team went back to the hotel, and Spencer filled you in on the funeral arrangements he had made on your behalf. You were about to try to get some sleep when Hotch approached you and told you he needed to speak to you.
“I called a good friend of mine on your behalf, and he gave me some information. We were able to work out a plan,” he told you, sitting across from you in the hotel lobby.
You were about to tell him that a case plan wouldn’t work, but he held his hand out, telling you to wait.
He nodded before he kept going, “He was able to file an emergency request to grant you temporary custody of Maya, and it was granted.”
You felt sick to your stomach, “She’s mine?”
“Temporarily, you’ll have to take care of some formalities back in Virginia, but you have full custody of her,” he informed you. “You’re being granted family leave, and I’ve encouraged Reid to apply for it as well,” Hotch told you, reaching out and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I am… I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through this but thank you for coming to me when you needed the help.”
You nodded absentmindedly, your head still whirling with the information that you had just been given. Stumbling, you walked back to your hotel room that you were sharing with Spencer and Maya.
The funeral was planned, the custody issue was solved, all there was left to do was…
“Baby?” Spencer said softly as you swung open the door, “Everyone else took Maya to get ice cream, I figured it couldn’t-“ his voice broke off at your first sob.
Everything you had held in came bursting out, all of the grief and stress and exhaustion nearly knocked your legs out from underneath you.
But Spencer was there to catch you.
part two
#criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#written by margot#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fic#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid angst#criminal minds angst#spencer reid hurt/comfort#criminal minds hurt/comfort
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"𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪." | dark!jackson rippner x reader
(I'm sorry but also no I'm not because wes craven knew exactly what he was doing when he put that line in the movie... he fucking knew...)
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | after following you for weeks as part of his job, jackson got a few ideas in his head about making you his, but finding out you had a boyfriend meant he needed to change his approach.
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 | just under 9k (wow what the actual fuck)
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | DARK NONCON SMUT (18+ only, don't keep reading if you're not physically or emotionally mature enough to manage your own content consumption please and thank you), knife kink, stalking, forced exhibitionism, forced infidelity, humiliation, vaginal and anal sex (whoops), pain kink/painal, ass to pussy (god this fic is disgusting lmao), hair pulling, brief breeding kink/forced breeding, some angst but really it's just filth
once again, this is a dark character being dark and I don't wanna hear y'all acting brand new about it so no hate please. that said, if you do enjoy this (which I very much hope you do) please consider reblogging to support my work :) comments are especially appreciated and literally make me so so happy!!
Following you was just part of the job— and Jackson did not like his job mixing with his personal life.
The problem was, he hadn’t had much of a personal life lately. No time for it; one or two hook-ups, women he met in bars, but that’s it. And believe it or not, he wanted more than that. Nobody would accuse Jackson of being sentimental— not really an attitude you can have when you organize illegal weapons sales and political assassinations— but he wasn’t made of stone. He wanted to be able to share at least part of his life with someone… or, you know, have a nice set of legs waiting for him at home that he could get between every night. Either, or both, would do.
It was an unfortunate coincidence that his realization that he wanted a girlfriend, or at the very least a plaything of his own, came right around the same time that he started to follow you. He was only doing it to pick up on your habits, figure out a way to get to you so he could blackmail you into being his inside man for his next job. It was supposed to be pretty simple: you were a museum events coordinator in charge of an upcoming lecture series which would feature a speech from a Bolivian presidential candidate who was unfortunately unfriendly to cartels. The American government not only endorsed him, but had him under incredibly tight security. This speaking event was going to be a rare chance to get to him in a public space without metal detectors, and Jackson was being compensated generously to ensure your museum would let a few extra attendees in the back.
But see, the Bolivian presidential election was the last thing on Jackson’s mind as he watched you through your window. His eyes drifted all over you, mesmerized by the way you prepared yourself for your day— styling your hair in the mirror, smoothing the wrinkles in your white button-up, pulling those stockings up your thighs…
He caught himself biting his lip and shook it off, straightening up in the driver’s seat of his car; he knew he should probably leave then, beat you to your work and then wander into the museum to feign interest in a few artifacts before striking up a conversation. But he loitered a bit longer, letting himself imagine how quickly he could rip off those clothes you were so thoughtfully dressing yourself with.
Eventually, he managed to pull his attention away from you and start the car, sighing as he tried to remember his plan of attack for ‘accidentally’ meeting you later today.
~
The museum might’ve been interesting, if he wasn’t so distracted by you. He was loitering, hands in his pockets, pretending to look at the paintings and artifacts as he waited for you to be near enough to strike up an innocuous conversation with. Early in the day, he saw you give a tour to a couple considering the museum for a wedding location, but kept his distance— it could be a while before you were available and he didn't want you to notice him yet, or he'd have to justify having been in the museum all day by himself.
For the first time since he’d started this job, Jackson felt slightly nervous to speak to you. It was always a big step, going from following someone to actually approaching them, but usually it didn’t give him any specific emotional reaction. Sure, he might feel a certain amount of pressure to do this correctly lest he blow the whole thing by tipping off his target, but he never was worried something would go wrong. This time, though, he felt his heart picking up every time he glanced at you from across the museum, closer to you than he’d ever been. His palms were even a bit clammy when he saw you walk by and realized this was the moment he needed to strike. God, did he really have a crush? How pathetic… but he couldn’t worry about that now, he was about to lose his chance as you brushed by him quickly.
"Miss?" he got your attention, gently touching your shoulder through your shirt as you passed by; you seemed a little startled by the physicality, yes, but not exactly offended.
"Oh, um— can I help you?" you said. He’d heard you speak before, on the wiretap and all, but it was a little different in person like this— and directed at him.
"I was gonna ask you about this sculpture, if you didn't mind," he explained with a gentle smile.
"Oh, well, one of our dosants would love to talk to you about our collection—" you began, starting to look for the closest staff member designated to help him, but he interrupted.
"So, you don't know anything about the stuff here?"
Your attention moved back to him and you smiled to hide your obvious defensiveness. "No, I do," you assured, "I actually am uniquely equipped to tell you about this sculpture: I studied Incan art specifically during my master's program."
He gave his best 'quietly impressed' face and nodded; he knew he could get you with that, you had kind of a know-it-all thing going on, which he happened to find annoyingly attractive. "Alright, then tell me about it," he challenged.
"Well," you sighed, crossing your arms as you looked at the piece, "we got this one a few years ago, it's actually a ceremonial vessel— there’s the llama head and the bird on this side here, those were both animals with a lot of cultural significance…”
As you pointed out elements of the vessel, he leaned in ostensibly to look at where you were gesturing— but it was all an excuse to get close to you, warm you up to him.
“They would’ve used this to pour essentially a form of beer on the ground,” you continued, “in hopes of increasing the strength of the crops and fertility."
"Fascinating," he smiled at you, and you didn’t back away when he stood closer. Like fish in a barrel. "How old is it?"
"It's estimated to be about four or five hundred years old,” you explained.
"Wow," he nodded, looking at the stone carving behind the glass again. "It's interesting to me that humans have always made art— and always been superstitious. Though I have to be honest, if I was living before the invention of birth control I don't think I'd be praying for fertility."
You smirked a little, and he hoped he hadn't gone too far— but it was fun to look at you and know what you must be thinking about. He could only hope that you were thinking about it with him in mind.
“Jackson, by the way,” he introduced himself, “my name’s Jackson. It feels unfair that you’ve gotta wear the nametag and I get to be anonymous.”
You laughed a little, glancing down at the silver nametag on your blazer and then back up at him. “Fair enough; welcome to our museum, Jackson.”
“So, wait,” he tilted his head, “forgive the late reaction here, but— if you’ve got a master’s degree of that caliber, how’d you end up as an event planner?”
“Well, believe it or not, the position does require historical knowledge,” you explained. “I started in curation, though— just moved to events because I was too cooped up in the back offices… I like meeting new people.”
Although Jackson would never consider himself particularly empathetic, he did think he had a decent sense of people— specifically, when they were lying. And that felt like a lie— a white lie, maybe, but still. A lie you were telling yourself most of all, that this was what you wanted to do. And it wasn’t that he really thought you disliked your job, moreso that his two weeks of following you did not indicate you harbored a strong desire to meet new people. You were a total homebody: rejecting offers to go out for drinks or dinner from friends and coworkers, staying up late watching TV instead of hitting the town or something, shrinking into your room every night and staying there until it was time to go to work again. He’d only seen you leave your house once that first weekend, and it was to pick up groceries— that’s it. No hot date, no concerts… almost no social life at all. Either you stayed late at the museum, or you went home.
And he also found that annoyingly attractive. Jackson, after all, was a workaholic himself; he imagined he would go out and do fun things, if he had the time, but right now nothing sounded better than going home and cuddling up with a sweet girl like you, being lazy couch potatoes together, resting after a long day of espionage, cyberterrorism, actual terrorism, and whatever else his work day got him up to.
….Jesus, when did he get so goddamn sentimental?!
“It certainly seems like a unique job,” Jackson replied.
“Every day’s a little different,” you agreed.
“Sounds like my job,” he snorted, “but I don’t work with other people much— I think it would be more entertaining with other people around. Especially when they can tell me everything there is to know about Incan art.”
“Okay, I don’t know everything,” you backpedaled, not seeming to really notice the larger sentiment of his statement, “but I can certainly hold my own. I like to think we all have something we know a little too much about, and could ramble for ages about.”
“Yeah, I hope so, or we’re just weirdos,” he chuckled. “For me it’s probably cocktails. I’m not an alcoholic or anything— I actually don’t drink that much, just socially, you know— but I have this thing where I can guess anybody’s favorite drink order.”
“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” he smirked, “but hold on, I can’t guess yours until I really get the vibes.”
“Oh,” you nodded, “yeah— vibes, sure.”
“Hmm,” he pondered, narrowing his eyes as he looked you up and down, biting his lip like he was really thinking about it.
Here was the hard part: he really hadn’t seen you go out for drinks this whole time, so he was actually going to have to guess. Of course, the fun part of this game was not actually getting it right— if anything, it worked better when he got corrected. All he really needed was to get you alone long enough to tell you who he really was, what he needed from you, and how he was going to motivate you to do it… but if he could actually seduce you first, that would be a hell of a bonus.
“I’m thinking something a little sweet, not too fruity though,” he thought aloud, “something classic— you have an old soul, I think.”
You seemed to be a little surprised by that analysis, but he figured that meant he was mostly right.
“Your cocktail of choice is, obviously, a sidecar,” he announced.
For a second, he thought he might have got it from the way you smiled, but then you started to laugh. “You were on the right track,” you admitted.
“Damn,” he snapped his fingers in playful frustration. After a pause, he realized, “you’re not gonna tell me?”
“I figured I’d give you another guess,” you explained.
“Or,” Jackson countered, “I could take you out tonight, and you could show me yourself. Your drink order, I mean.”
Alright, that was forward, but he figured he’d been doing well so far. Instead, though, you tensed up a bit, causing Jackson to knit his eyebrows together for a moment. “I would, really, but, I have plans tonight… with my boyfriend,” you said.
He swallowed behind a barely-suppressed frown. Following you for all this time and he hadn’t noticed any boyfriend; were you lying just to get him to back off? You’d seemed so flattered before. “Oh?” Jackson tried to get out in his most neutral voice. “That’s great— is he taking you somewhere nice?
“Even better,” you blinked quickly, a shy smile lifting your face. “He works here at the museum, but he’s been gone almost an entire month to pick up some artifacts from around Eastern Europe… hasn’t even been able to use a phone out there. So he’s promised to come over and give me a first look at everything he got, and apparently he’s brought something just for me, so…”
“That’s sweet,” Jackson replied, willing his nostrils not to twitch. “Nice to know he was thinking of you all the way over there. I travel a lot for my work, actually, and it’s… hard to find somebody loyal these days.”
You nodded in agreement, sighing slightly. “Yeah, it is.”
“I mean, gone for a month, no communication, no reminders of you— just out there surrounded by opportunities and nothing keeping him from them,” Jackson went on. “That’s a lot to get through without at least one drunken encounter.”
You furrowed your brow, looking at him with a sort of grimace. “I… I guess,” you mumbled in reply. “I do have a lot of work to get done so I think I’ll just let you explore,” you decided.
“What if I have more questions about the pieces?” he asked.
“Try reading the little plaque underneath it,” you suggested flatly, already turning and walking away.
Jackson watched to leave for a second before scoffing to himself. Bitch. But it didn’t make a difference anyways: one way or another, he was going to get to you— for the sake of the job, of course. Although this boyfriend character was certainly a spanner in the works of his secondary plan to get you in bed, Jackson had to admit that he was ultimately an advantage for his actual purpose with you: an attachment, something he could exploit to get what he wanted. Do what I say, or he gets hurt.
Of course, he knew he should use that to make you be his inside man for that stupid lecture series— he wasn’t going to get the second half of his payoff until the cartel had their chance to make an example out of the visiting politician. But, as a small smile crept over his face while he walked out of the museum, he realized that he could use his leverage for so much more than that.
~
The door was unlocked when you got home; beaming, you realized it meant that your boyfriend beat you here, and was likely waiting for you just around the corner.
“Babe?” you called out, shutting the door behind you and shirking your purse and blazer to set down on the wooden credenza.
And yes, he was waiting for you around the corner alright, but you gasped in shock and felt your stomach sink when you saw him. He was bound to a chair with zipties, restrained at his wrists and ankles with tape over his mouth, looking a bit roughed up and absolutely terrified.
“Oh my god!” you gasped, running to him, but he oddly seemed to pull away from you as much as he could when you tried to break one of the ties. “What the fuck, what’s— oh my god, are you—?” you rushed, not even knowing where to start and just focusing on freeing him. But he just kept letting out muffled grunts and shaking his head— like he didn’t want you to keep going. Of course, you’d been so shocked by it that you hadn’t even considered why he looked so scared, why he seemed to want you to get away from him: whoever did this was still in the house.
It seemed obvious in retrospect, but it was too late now; you screamed when someone grabbed you, but the sound was muted by a hand over your mouth. “Shh,” a voice beside your ear soothed as a blade pressed to your neck. “Nobody’s going to get hurt if you behave.”
Your boyfriend hung his head defeatedly, and you thought you heard the sound of him crying though it was hard to tell.
“You missed him quite a lot, didn’t you?” the man asked, and you wrinkled your brows together as you wondered how he could’ve known that he was gone for a while. “Left you all alone here, poor thing— probably got all worked up, lonely, needy… like three nights ago, when I saw you through your bedroom window, touching yourself."
Your face burned with humiliation— not even that he saw you doing that, really, but just knowing he'd been watching you for god-knows how long. That made you feel more violated than anything.
“Wanted to help you so bad,” he purred, “but I had to wait. I’m not waiting anymore— you’ve got me feeling pretty fucking impatient these days.”
You kept thinking about what you could do to get him away from you— his feet were just behind yours, you could stomp on his shoe and hope it hurt enough to distract him, or maybe you could wrench your elbow back into his side— but with the knife at your throat, you were afraid that he’d be faster than you if you tried anything. “Please just— don’t hurt me, please,” you begged, whimpering a little, not sure what else to say at a time like this.
“Oh, honey,” he cooed, “you sound so sweet when you’re scared.”
It was the way he said that word: sweet. It reminded you of before, something you’d done your best to forget about all day. Something a little sweet, not too fruity— that weird guy at the museum, he’d said it just like that. “Oh my god,” you breathed, “it’s— it’s you.”
“You remember my name, don’t you?” he smiled.
“Jackson,” you recalled, “you— oh my god—”
“I’m sure you’re a little relieved,” he chuckled, addressing your boyfriend with a grin as you turned your head enough to look up at his semi-familiar face. “She was so into me when we met today at the museum,” Jackson informed him proudly. “You wanted me to fuck you then, didn’t you, baby?”
“No I fucking di—” you began to deny with a sneer, but he quieted you with a finger over your mouth— of course, a finger from the hand still holding the knife, to remind you exactly why you should stop talking.
“Now, try anything, I might just have to hurt you— or, better yet, your shitstain boyfriend over there,” Jackson warned. “I’m just waiting for an excuse to break a few of his fingers. Don’t give me one.”
Swallowing, you shut your eyes for a longer moment— you couldn’t believe this was actually happening, like one of those horrific news articles you read before bed just to torture yourself. Like one of those horror movies guys think are campy and fun but give you the most awful sick feeling because that could really happen. And now it was really happening, and your first thought was somehow to wonder what you did wrong to let this happen.
“So, are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, tilting his head down to look at you questioningly.
You nodded, but he wasn’t satisfied.
“Say it.”
“Yes,” you answered quickly, and he snarled with frustration.
“No, baby, say it like I said it,” he insisted, his tone a warning not to test him again.
“I’m gonna be… I’m gonna be a good girl…” you choked out.
“Whose good girl?” he taunted, and you groaned as you shut your eyes, feeling him pull you closer to him and press his face close to yours.
“Yours! Your good girl,” you spat out, breath picking up as you heard him purr against your cheek. “Jackson— please, you don’t… you don’t have to do this. Please don’t do this.”
You shivered as the knife pressed against you again and moved from your neck down to your shirt, gently slicing off the top button and exposing a little more of your chest. “Mm, but I want to,” he explained, “wanted you since I first saw you.”
You hated the realization that he likely first saw you quite some time ago, before you ever knew he existed, and that he’d been waiting for this ever since then.
“I think it turns you on, knowing I can do whatever I want to you,” he presumed, cutting off a second button from your shirt.
“Please just go,” you begged, starting to properly cry as his teeth grazed your neck. “You’re right— you can do whatever you want. I can’t stop you. Isn’t that what you wanted to prove? Just… just don’t make me—”
“Make you?” he repeated. “No, no— you wanted me. I could tell. Only thing stopping you was him.”
He pointed towards your boyfriend with the knife in his hand, who looked devastated and horrified to say the least.
“You could do better, by the way,” Jackson informed you. “You should be with somebody who can really treat you right.”
Another button fell to the floor; your bra was visible now, baby pink lace, and your nipples hardened from the cool air on your skin— that, and the way Jackson’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck.
“Are you getting wet for me, baby?” he whispered to you as his knife trailed delicately over your skin, tracing the curve of your breasts. “Think it’s time for me to finally give you what you need?”
You took a deep, but shaky, breath as you tried to put on a brave face and brace for what was to come. “My… my bedroom is upstairs,” you whispered, and Jackson laughed in a way that made your skin crawl.
“Oh, eager already,” he taunted.
“I just wanna get this over with,” you insisted.
“Sure,” he said facetiously with a mischievous smirk and a wink to match; you felt like you were gonna be sick. “But bedrooms are a little, you know… basic? That’s probably what you’re used to, real traditional stuff: missionary, in the bed, in the dark, for a few minutes on weekends only. That’s the vibe I’m getting, at least. You’re not used to being with somebody romantic— you know, spontaneous.”
He turned you around to face him, making you yelp a little as he spoke by your ear.
“Somebody who just has to have you; right here, right now,” he cooed, running his tongue along the outside of your ear before suddenly kissing roughly along your neck.
“N-no, please,” you begged, imagining the humiliation you were in store for if he really did fuck you on your living room floor in front of the man you loved. “Please, I— I said I’ll be good for you, just— take me to my room, please.”
"No, baby,” Jackson purred as he held your chin, “let’s show your little boyfriend here what you look like when a real man fucks you, huh?"
Whining, you jerked your arms forward to try to break away, but it only ensured the bruises his fingers would leave on your skin.
A second later, you were shoved to the ground, and he was on top of you wearing a wide grin. You could hear your boyfriend kicking and screaming in the corner, but your attention was more focused on Jackson starting to open his belt.
"Fuck! Get the fuck off of me!" you yelped, kicking and shoving as hard as you could and finding each one more helpless than the last. "You— you fucking piece of shit!"
He smacked you across the face only to pull it back harshly by the jaw, glaring into your eyes. "Better be careful with that dirty mouth," he warned, shoving two fingers between your lips until you gagged on them. "Don't need to wash that out with soap, do we?"
As you choked, you shook your head, hoping it would be enough of an apology to get you some air.
"How about come?" he joked, making you gag for more than one reason, and he laughed at the tears that rolled down your temples.
He took his fingers out of your mouth and reached down to his fly again, letting out a small satisfied sigh as he freed himself. You sobbed a little when you accidentally caught a glimpse of his erection in his hand; he grunted when you tried to push him off again, and responded by grabbing both your wrists and pinning them down above your head. He hummed as he stroked himself a bit, looking down at you trapped under him.
“Thought you said you were gonna be good for me,” he recalled, chuckling when you bit your shaking lip. “You sure you don’t need me to hurt Romeo over there, give you a little motivation?”
You shook your head. “No— I’m sorry, I’ll do what you say. Don’t hurt him.”
“Open your legs,” he ordered.
Hesitantly, you lifted your legs up a bit and spread them, cringing at the happy groan you heard when your skirt started to roll up your thighs.
“Don’t move your hands,” he warned before he let go of them, leaning back and looking down at you: spread out under him, his for the taking.
He snapped off the last few buttons of your shirt, humming when your torso was exposed further. His hand started at your neck and ran down to grope your chest through the lacy bra; he purred, pinching your hardened nipples until you were forced to react.
Pulling it down, he took a quick breath at the sight of your bare tits— his chest rising and falling— and he set his knife aside to knead them both with a hum. "Been thinking about these for a while…" he mumbled. You gasped when he leaned down and captured a nipple in his mouth, suckling with a wide mouth as you scrunched your nose and looked away. Still, it made your insides pulse when he swirled his tongue around, only to pop off a second later and move to the other. "Damn," he breathed, leaning back again to move his attention lower.
Starting at your knees, he rubbed your legs carefully, moving a little higher every time until he was gripping needily at your thighs; his own breathing was a little faster as he did it.
You hadn't exactly imagined how this would be, obviously, but you still were surprised at how long he was taking. Was he just trying to build up the anticipation to scare you? Or was it for his own benefit?
He was gentle for just a few seconds before suddenly flaring his nostrils and ripping your stockings open. Through the new hole in the fabric, he rubbed your panties and you bit down on your tongue to avoid crying any harder.
“Fuck,” he breathed, then laughed, as he pet your cunt through the lace— they matched your bra, of course. Your boyfriend was coming back from a long trip, you’d wanted to do something nice for him… that idea backfired completely. “All dressed up, matching and everything… you’re too good to me, babydoll.”
You were about to correct him, make sure both of them knew that this had nothing to do with Jackson, but your open mouth only let out a gasp when Jackson pulled your panties aside to touch you.
“Oh, baby,” he groaned when he slid two fingers between your lips. “So wet. Fuck. When’d you get like that, huh? Hmm, it was the knife, wasn’t it?”
He looked over at your boyfriend and gave him a terribly smug look while he slipped a finger inside your hole.
“Women like a sense of danger,” he informed the tied man flatly. “But… I think your girl likes it even more than most.”
You flexed on his finger, turning his attention back to you, and he licked his lips as he slipped another finger in until you winced.
“That’s too much for you already, baby?” he noticed. “Fuck, I might break you…”
He curled the fingers inside you, clearly trying to get you warmed up for him, and you shut your eyes tight in hopes your face wouldn’t show any reaction. There was a sense of relief when he stopped and pulled his fingers out, but it didn’t last long since the next thing he did was grab your jaw and press those fingers to your lips.
“Ever tasted yourself before?” he asked, and you tried to turn your face away but it was useless. “Come on, it’s good, I’ll show you.”
He licked his own fingers first, moaning in satisfaction as he did it.
“Fuck, it’s sweet,” he promised. “Now you try it.”
This time, when he put his fingers to your mouth, you opened it and let him push them inside. He slid them over your tongue, watching you with dark eyes.
“Suck them,” he instructed you quietly, almost a whisper, and though your cheeks burned you wrapped your lips around his fingers and hollowed your cheeks. “Mm, that’s it— see, you can be a good girl. Knew you could.”
You were panting a little, for some reason, when he took his fingers away, leaving your mouth slack and wet. He brought his hands down to his fly to finish freeing his cock, and you looked up, to the side, basically anywhere but at… that.
“Look at it,” he encouraged you, and you shook your head. “Don’t you wanna see it before I put it inside you?”
You figured you could get him to shut up if you just did it, so you went ahead and took a glance down at his erection in his hand, only for a terrified whimper to catch in your throat.
“I can tell what you’re thinking,” he grinned. “Trying to remember the last time you had a dick this big, right?”
Trying to figure out how that’s supposed to fit.
“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he demanded suddenly, sitting back enough to get you room to do it.
You hesitated, and he suddenly looked angry as he grabbed your wrist and yanked you up a bit until you yelped.
“Go on! Hands and fucking knees, did I stutter?” he ordered, louder.
You were a little sore and weak all over, and it became even more apparent when you awkwardly got up off the floor; you avoided your boyfriend’s gaze as you took the position, opting to just stare down at the rug under you instead, suddenly fascinated by every detail in hopes it could somehow distract you from this. From the feeling of him delicately pushing your skirt up over your ass and his hands all over you, from the way he pushed your knees apart with his own and settled between them, from the sick drop in your stomach as his cock’s head rubbed over your clit and lined up to your opening. Yes, it sure was a riveting pattern on this rug alright…
But, of course, Jackson wouldn’t let you get through this that easily. “Beg for it,” you heard his firm voice from behind you.
“Jackson, come on, I—” you choked, “I— just—”
“It’s okay, babydoll, go on…” he egged you on, as if shyness was the reason you were hesitating.
“Please…” you began, shutting your eyes tightly. “Please fuck me.”
You tried not to react too much when he pushed inside, but it was big, and he himself let out a husky groan at the feeling as he filled you. You managed to stay silent at first, but a little squeak came out halfway through, and it turned into a loud sigh when he was all the way inside. “Fuck,” he breathed, dropping his head back with a breathy laugh. “Fuck, it’s tight. Guess that’s what happens when nobody’s here to treat you right— and I don’t just mean because he was out of town. I can tell nobody’s given you what you need in a long time…”
Before you could wonder what could possibly make him capable of telling that, he took a tight hold of your hips and began to fuck you— slower than you expected, but not quite delicate.
Shaking, you tried to keep yourself propped up on your wobbly arms as he set his pace, and tried to keep yourself quiet while he did this. The last thing he needed was any more reasons to think you liked this.
Still, you couldn’t fight the whimper that came when he suddenly slammed himself into you, rougher than before; your thighs even quivered for a moment. “Fuck,” you choked out, under your breath, and he hummed back at you as he sped up a little.
“Not too deep, is it?” he asked, though it didn’t seem like he was actually concerned for your well-being (obviously). “Not used to anything this big, huh?”
You were afraid he was going to force you to answer that, but instead he surprised you by putting a hand between your shoulder blades and shoving you down; you gasped and grunted when your chest pressed to the floor, your face thankfully turned to the side against the rug— but unfortunately, it meant you were looking right at your boyfriend. You had to shut your eyes, too ashamed that he was seeing you like this.
“There, you like that better?” he purred as he held your hips up against his, but the new angle only forced him deeper until you were choking on nothing with every thrust. Your hands searched wildly along the floor for something to hold onto, but eventually just had to settle for gripping the rug for dear life. “Mm, fuck, s’good— you feel so fucking good, baby…”
The compliment sent an unwilling shiver up your spine, and your back arched even deeper than he’d forced it to. It was too much, it was all far too much, but your toes were curling inside your (ruined) pantyhose and you bit down on your lip without thinking about it.
“Oh, see how much she likes it?” Jackson grunted, apparently still addressing the captive boyfriend in the chair— you really wished he would just leave him out of this. “Fuck, what a pretty little whore…”
Not only could he switch from sickly-sweet to rageful in a moment, but you realized that he could somehow seem to be both at once. Still spitting out praises and insults all at one, he fucked you rougher and meaner as your moans— pain or pleasure, you couldn’t tell anymore and you didn’t want to— grew louder. He kept getting more aggressive— harder and faster, harder and faster— until you were all but screaming and you couldn’t keep your hips up anymore. Each thrust pushed you down until you were flat against the floor, but he kept fucking you and holding the back of your neck. One thrust seemed to go too deep suddenly, and you yelped as you reached back to try to grab his thigh out of instinct.
“Shh, shh, s’okay, baby,” he assured with a hiss. “Fuck.”
But he kept doing it, kept fucking you deep (if a little slower) as you whined and shook under him. “Jackson,” you heard yourself breathe, “please— I-I can’t—”
“God,” he growled, “say my name again. That’s so hot.”
You hadn’t meant it like that, but now it was too late. “N-no,” you tried to deny, but that didn’t last long as he grabbed you by the hair and forced your head up, laying over you enough to speak right against your ear.
“Say. My fucking. Name,” he spat.
“Jackson,” you choked out against the strain on your throat from having your neck cranked back like this. “Jackson, f-fuck—”
He groaned and dropped your head, propping himself up so he could fuck you faster again; his gaze moved down to where his body filled yours, where each thrust made your ass bounce under torn pantyhose…
As he slowed down for a moment, panting, you wondered if maybe it was almost over— maybe it already was, but that seemed too good to be true. He was still holding you down just as hard, anyway; he put his whole weight on your arms as he turned to look at your boyfriend tied up in the chair.
"Does she do anal?" Jackson asked him point-blank.
Your struggle renewed as you screamed angrily— but you couldn't keep it up, it fell into a helpless sob a moment later. Your boyfriend didn't give much of an answer— couldn't, really, on account of the duct tape— just kicked around against his restraints again.
Jackson shrugged as he looked down at you crying under him. "Well, you do now," he decided, pulling out and spitting into his hand.
You’d never felt so helpless, laying there on the floor while he pushed his fat tip up to your puckered hole. “Please,” you begged for mercy, but you didn’t even have the energy to lift your head from the rug and it was all muffled and pathetic.
“It’s really not that bad,” he insisted as he started to press forward, but your whole body jumped and you let out a loud whine when his head slipped inside with a sort of pop— all that pressure giving way to a sick, stinging stretch.
“Oh my god oh my god,” you whimpered, feeling goosebumps break out all over your body from the sharp pain. “I can’t— please, I really can’t—”
“Shh, it’s okay, I’m gonna go real slow,” he promised under his breath, moaning loudly as he pushed in a little deeper. Laying on the floor like this, there was really nowhere for you to go, no way to run from the feeling. “Just breathe, long slow breaths— focus on staying relaxed.”
Frustratingly, it was actually pretty good advice; it certainly didn’t make it painless, but when you shut your eyes and thought as much about breathing and as little about anything else as you could, it helped.
“See? Just relax, babydoll,” he whispered, but relaxing could only do so much as he slid the rest of the way in and you felt like your whole body might go numb. Your eyes rolled back, your insides (all of them, it seemed) flexed, your heart was pounding… you felt sick, and disgusting, and used.
He breathed heavy as he laid his weight on top of you, slipping an arm under you to wrap around your shoulders and neck.
"Fuck, that's a tight fuckin' ass," he grunted, laughing a little as he glanced at your boyfriend, slowly beginning to move again. "This one's got you spoiled, huh? How'd a loser like you get your hands on a perfect fucktoy like this?"
He bit down on the shell of your ear as he picked up his pace quickly— way too quickly— and soon he was growling each time he slammed his hips against your ass. You couldn’t even tell what noises you were making anymore…
"But you're gonna be mine now," he whispered to you. "Oh fuck, s'all gonna be mine. Gonna fill these pretty holes of yours every fuckin' day."
You dropped your head down defeatedly onto the floor, though shocks of pain were still making your fingers and toes curl while he roughly fucked your other hole.
“Yeah, fuck, you fuckin’ like it,” he snarled as he fucked you faster. “Needy little slut. You like getting all your holes filled, huh?”
You simply bit down on your lip, not realizing it wasn't a rhetorical question.
"Answer me," he insisted.
"I-I don't like it," you said— quietly, because if you spoke any louder it would've been mostly unintelligible with sobs.
"Huh?" he taunted, leaning in closer.
"It hurts, Jackson," you choked, pleading.
“No?” he noticed, feigning shock with heavy sarcasm in his tone. “Are you saying you don’t like it up the ass?”
“Please, please,” you choked out, “fuckin’ hurts— god, please, hurts—”
"You don't like it, sweetheart?" he cooed at you, cloying condescension dripping from every word as he roughly pet the hair out of your face. You whined and shook your head. "Well, I could always put it back in your cunt, would that make you feel better?"
He chuckled at your grimace of disgust.
"Is that too dirty for you?" he wondered, clicking his tongue. "Aw, it's okay, just gonna give you what you wanted— hold still, baby."
You winced when he pulled out of your ass, only to whine as he slid back into your cunt; you hid your face, feeling how absurdly warm it had become from all this, and tried not to think about how dehumanizing what he had just done to you was.
He picked his pace right back up when he entered you, letting out a deep groan of satisfaction. "Oh my god you're fucking dripping, is that from being fucked in your little ass?" he noticed. "Jesus Christ, wettest fucking pussy I ever had... somebody likes it dirty, hm?"
You wanted to deny it, but he wasn’t lying about your physical reaction; you were soaking, and you didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like you found much pleasure in that experience physically, it was rather agonizing— and then there was the thought of it, of knowing you’d been used that way, and it just made you feel dizzy and weird. Regardless, it was true… your body responded even when your mind was running in circles convincing itself there was nothing enjoyable about this.
“Such a pretty thing,” Jackson purred at you as he sped up again, shaking your whole body against the floor— that arm around your shoulders was the only thing keeping you from being pushed away, and he held you tightly like he really was worried you’d get away somehow, even though you’d stopped resisting quite a while ago.
At least it didn’t hurt anymore— except that you were still a little sore, and he was holding you too tight and his weight made it hard to breathe, and you were probably going to get rug burn, and you felt disgusting. But in a literal sense, it hurt less.
“Think I need to turn you over and get a good look at that pretty face,” he decided, pulling out of you and rolling you onto your back. Maybe it was just because you knew it was only for a moment, but being empty wasn’t as much of a relief as you expected. You were pretty much limp by this point, letting him turn you over and simply looking up at him blankly. “Oh,” he said as he smiled proudly, “look how fucked out you look— and I’m not even done with you yet.”
Lifting your legs and pressing them against your chest, he slid back in until he was deeper than you thought possible, and you gasped and shivered helplessly. “F-fuck, wait—“
He started to fuck into you quickly, and you nearly screamed, reaching down to try to hold his thigh or push him back or something to keep him from going so far inside you, but nothing deterred him. For how drained you were a moment ago, the shock of this gave you renewed energy, and you hated feeling your walls bear down on him in sick, overwhelming pleasure. “Oh god,” he moaned, “so fucking good.”
As hard as you were trying not to be loud, your efforts were lost when he reached down and roughly rubbed at your swollen clit; again, you tried to reach to stop him, holding onto his wrist and pushing his hand away with all your strength, but he bested you easily and kept going. “Fuck!” you screamed. “Please, please— it’s too much, I—”
“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed, watching proudly as your back arched and your head tilted back with a gasp.
You hadn’t even realized you were building to an orgasm— you would’ve sworn you weren’t, before, but now you felt all sensitive and sticky, and his thumb on your clit was relentless, and the shivers that had been running all over you all evening were turning into hard, heavy jolts of— of something. Something you’d been holding back longer than you realized. Something you hadn’t felt in much, much longer than three weeks.
“It’s okay,” he kept encouraging you with a proud grin that turned into a growl through his teeth as he fucked you harder. “Show him what it looks like when you’re not faking it, babydoll. Show him who you really belong to now.”
“Please,” you cried, the word barely spoken and more just a shape you made around your cries. If he didn’t stop now, you wouldn’t be able to, either; you were spasming uncontrollably, inside and out, it was just getting worse and worse (or better and better, depending on how you looked at it).
It felt fucking good. You would die before you admitted it, but you didn’t have to— it was obvious. And it was overtaking everything now, even your shame, until for one impossible moment, you were completely shameless. You weren’t sure you had ever felt quite like that before— not just physically, but spiritually. Shameless. Even though all you’d felt until now was ashamed. “Good girl,” Jackson praised you, though it was sort of lost on you as you were coming down from a high that hit you hard enough to not even feel real until it was nearly over.
It was like time had slowed down, and then snapped back to superspeed, to hyperreality, when he finally pulled his hand away and let you have a small reprieve.
"Fuck, I'm gonna come, oh my god," he gasped, his voice getting oddly high-pitched as he said it. "Want me to come inside, babydoll, or paint that pretty face?"
“Not… not inside,” you warned, just conscious enough to remember that.
“Mm? Why not?” he smirked.
You were still blinking away the blurriness in your vision, panting, trying to process all that you’d just felt— so you really didn’t have any energy for stupid questions like that. “What?” you just asked groggily. “Why… why do you think?!”
He just laughed briefly— more like a hum— and kept going. Of course, you should’ve known he’d do it once he realized your boyfriend didn’t; but wasn’t it enough that you and your boyfriend used condoms and Jackson had already gone past that?
“Just— just don’t,” you begged again, shut up with a firm hand over your mouth suddenly as he grunted lowly above you with each thrust.
“Fuck,” he said, a sort of warning though it wasn’t specific. “Fuck!”
He bit his lip when it happened; you shut your eyes, not wanting to see his face all slack and flushed like that with his hair falling forward and his neck and jaw flexing. But closing your eyes only made the feeling inside you more undeniable: the rush of warmth, the flexing against your walls as he pushed himself in as deep as he could. You whimpered a little, though you weren’t sure it was audible to anyone but yourself, and Jackson sighed as he emptied himself into you.
He took his hand away with a deep breath, and all you did was let your mouth fall open and your eyes blink numbly— what else was there to do?
As he caught his breath, he laughed a little, very softly; he put his hands on the floor beside your head, propping himself up but letting his head hang down loosely for a second— he was still smiling.
“You’re… you’re really something else, you know that, babydoll?” he informed you.
You didn’t say anything, and he sighed again just before he pulled out— you both winced, for different reasons, and he took a moment to hold your legs open so he could look at what he’d done to you; you felt filthy and exposed like that, but you were too weak to try to stop him or even to close your legs.
“Now that’s just beautiful,” he decided in reaction to whatever he saw; you didn’t want to picture it, how stretched out and used up you must look, but you could feel his come oozing out, running down.
Some of the numbness was already wearing off, at least physically, and you were beginning to realize how purely un-ergonomic it was to get fucked on the floor. Your back and shoulders were sore, your legs were tight when you finally got to lay them down again after being held up for so long… you tried not to imagine how long you’d be feeling the effects of this, wearing bruises and feeling knots and having to know exactly where they came from.
“Come on,” he mumbled as he lifted up your limp upper body, pulling you closer to him. He held your face for a second, petting your cheek which was still a bit clammy with sweat. “Kiss me,” he demanded, though he said it somewhat softly; you didn’t actually sit up and do it for him, but you let him press his lips to yours and you tried your best to half-heartedly mirror his movements as he did it.
He held your head and neck more firmly and slid his tongue into the kiss, making you whimper a little but that was the end of your protest. You thought it was a little strange that he wanted to kiss you now, but maybe it was just a matter of claiming you in the final way since he’d pretty much covered all the others.
When he broke away, he brushed his thumb over your cheek and smiled at you sweetly.
It’s over, you told yourself, hoping to feel more relieved. It’s over, he’s finally done with you. You did it. It’s over. But as those words repeated in your mind, you only felt emptier than ever.
“Look at your boy over there,” Jackson mumbled beside your ear, a smirk on his lips as he shook you a bit with the arm around you. “You see it, don’t you? He looks different now.”
You dared to glance at your captive boyfriend, who you realized you hadn’t heard muffled protests from in quite some time. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, but dark, too; his stare was heavy and piercing. You suddenly felt sick.
“He looks at you different now.”
You bit down on your lip as it started to shake; you felt worse than ever with him looking at you like that. Things hadn’t been perfect before he left— nothing’s ever perfect— but they were good, and easy, and now you felt like he hated you. But what had you done wrong? All you’d done was try to keep him unharmed by appeasing this awful, horrible person…
Jackson had already been speaking quietly, but he dropped his voice down to whisper as he rubbed your shoulder. “I don’t think he’ll look at you the same way ever again,” he posited, and you swallowed as your stomach dropped.
“I don’t… I don’t understand,” you whispered under your breath.
“He’s never seen you like that before,” Jackson explained, “and he understands now that he can’t do for you what I can.”
Jackson brought his hand to his own chest as he said that, but then reached up to wipe up another tear that rolled down your cheek. “Please,” you said, looking at your boyfriend though he wouldn’t meet your gaze, “don’t— don’t think that I— it’s not my fault! I didn’t want this to happen!”
“Shh, you don’t have to lie anymore,” Jackson cooed at you, “we’ve all seen the truth now, it’s alright.”
You were exhausted, you were devastated, you were too overwhelmed to even feel terrified anymore; you dropped your head onto Jackson’s shoulder defeatedly. After all you’d been through tonight, you were starting to lose track of what was real anymore.
He let you cry quietly against him for a while, petting your head, until finally breaking the silence. “Now, the thing is, there’s actually just… one more thing I need you to do for me,” he admitted, and you started to cry harder again.
“Please— please, I did everything you asked,” you sputtered out through your tears, “you took. Everything. From me.”
“Hold on, that’s not true,” he frowned, “you’ve still got your cuck boyfriend over there, even if he’s not quite what he used to be— you still love him, don’t you? Can’t help that?”
“O-of course I do,” you insisted, feeling oddly guilty as you said it.
“So, you don’t want me to hurt him?”
Even if this was the end— even if he would hold what was done to you against you, which would break your heart— you couldn’t have that on your conscience. You shook your head.
“I didn’t think so,” Jackson nodded, “you’re too sweet for that. I won’t hurt him, and I’ll let him go, if you promise to do what I ask you to.”
“What more… what more could you possibly want…” you breathed, shaking your head, trying not to imagine what else there was for him to do to you.
“Something a lot less fun than what I wanted before,” he smirked. “What I need from you now is purely work-related.”
You wrinkled your brows together with a sniffle as you began to slowly compose yourself. “Work…?”
“Let me tell you a little bit more about what I do for a living…”
#jackson rippner x reader#jackson rippner smut#jackson rippner dark fic#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy smut#red eye fanfic
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❍ ‗ Tough Work - Bang Chan ‗ ❍
Pairing : Bang Chan x f Reader
Summary : Bang Chan gets his plans ruined yet again by a late notice schedule and he's pissed. His friends call his girlfriend to the rescue to calm him down before he punches his laptop.
Word count : 3.2k
Warnings/tags : a little angst at the beginning, Chan is an emotional mess, swear words, smut (ONLY 18+), sex on a desk chair, unprotected sex (don't be silly goofy y'all), use of pet name baby, baby girl.
A/n : I had some inspo (not gonna tell you eheh) + it's the holiday season so yeah why not! Let's slut the holidays away🤣🙏🏻 merry Xmas pookies 🤎Also be KIND it's my first full written fic since like...august or sumn
masterlist
ps: No Beta'd. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy!
♡︎.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
When Hyunjin called you, it definitely came as a surprise. It was around five pm and you were doing absolutely nothing except chill on the couch watching a movie on your (very deserved) days off for the holidays. Until the phone suddenly rang, making you curious as you saw the name calling. Especially since you thought you heard Chan, your boyfriend, saying that they were working today.
'Hello?'
'Hey, yn, hi. Are you busy right now?' your friend's voice sounded slightly defeated as he answered, even though you could tell he was trying to play it off.
'Hyune, hi. No, I'm not, what's up? Is everything okay?' you sat straight, listening carefully.
'Yes and no. Listen, we got some late notice from the company and now Chan hyung is pissed. Like very pissed.' you frowned as he sighed, 'But mostly he's upset. And I know for a fact that the only thing that can calm him down it's you. Would you mind maybe coming over?'
You and Chan were supposed to meet at your apartment to have dinner together later, despite that you didn't even think twice before getting up and walking to your room to change quickly.
'Yes, got it. Don't worry, I'll be there in 10.'
-
You didn't bother getting ready properly, with a full on makeup and hair done, or a carefully picked out outfit. Usually you'd have some decency going out, even just for meeting your friends. But right now you didn't have the time, nor the mood for it.
Hyunjin didn't give too many details, but since he mentioned a late notice schedule, you probably imagined that it would mess with your and Chan's plans for New Year's. It was not the first time that it happened unfortunately, but then again, it was his work. He couldn't truly help it, and you knew that it upset him.
You put on a gray wool oversized dress, some pantyhose, a padded jacket and a beanie, after quickly fixing your hair slightly. Then you grabbed your bag and before you knew it, you were in your car driving to the boys' dorm.
-
Like you predicted, around ten minutes later you arrived and opted on sending Hyunjin a text instead of ringing the bell. He immediately came to answer the door and gave you a quick hug and a small smile.
'Changbin is not home. Me and Jisung are going out for a while, okay? Let me know when the threath has been doomed.' he joked, just as you waved to Jisung who was wrapping a big scarf around his neck. He smiled back and hugged you too.
'Thank you, yn. He wouldn't hear us out at all, so we decided to call you.' he said. You shook your head slightly as you took off the beanie.
'It's okay. I'm sorry that you guys probably also had some plans spoiled.' you responded. They both had a sweet yet quite defeated expression on as you switched places, them on the doorstep on their way out and you on your way in.
'Ah, It's alright. It's out job after all. Take your time, alright?' Hyunjin replied, and you nodded with a small smile before they closed the door behind them.
You sighed, mentally preparing to try and not look too disappointed. You were, of course, but now it wasn't about you. And besides, the last thing you would've wanted was to make Chan feel more guilty.
You made your way down the corridor to his room, which was pretty much silent. You knocked on the door gently, and just after a couple of seconds your boyfriend showed up. He was wearing a black hoodie, gray tracksuit pants and his big headphones. His face looked tired, serious and there was the slightest hint of red in his eyes.
His expression switched fast as soon as he realized it was you at the door and not one of his roommates, which had already taken turns in trying to comfort him and calm him down. He even had a small argument with Changbin, hence why he had to leave the house before they started shouting names at each other.
'Yn? What- weren't we supposed to meet later? Did I loose track of time-?' he quickly glanced down at the time on his phone, taking off the headphones with one hand and discarding them on his bed. The wallpaper being a sweet picture of you too making yout heart shrink a bit.
'Channie, hi baby. No, it's okay, you didn't. A little bird told me you needed some cheering up.' you smiled sweetly at him as you brought your hands up to stroke his arms.
He scoffed, releasing himself from your grip gently, just to walk back and plop down on his big plush desk chair.
'Which one of those fu-...ah, I don't even care. I assume that they told you, then?' he sighed heavily, stopping himself from curing at his friends. You walked closer, taking off your bag and jacket, placing them on the clothes hanger behind the door.
'Don't be mad. They did it because they care about you enough to not see your hair turn white from stress before your time.' you tried to lighten up the mood, but it didn't seem to work as he just proceeded to put his head down in between his hands.
Your smile fell, taking a deep breath, understanding that he really needed some time to get out his feelings first.
'Just about a late notice schedule. Nothing more, but I assume that it's for New Year's. Is that why you're so upset?' you scrunched down in frot of him, your hands placed on his knees.
He waited a few seconds before speaking, his voice low and quite monotone. 'We got two Japan schedules for the 31st and the 1st. But we have to leave on the 29th. And we'll probably not going to be back before the 2nd. Just in time for our already pre paid and organized planes to be canceled. Of fucking course.' his tone getting sharper as he spoke.
You stroked his thigh gently to comfort him, 'I'm sorry, baby. I know you were looking forward to a few days off.' you responded. He shook his head, frowning as he sat up straight.
'Fuck the days off. I can have days off all year. I was looking forward to spending at leas one fucking holiday with my girlfriend, in peace in a nice luxury cabin in the middle of damn nowhere.' he ranted angrily, before pausing for a second and giving you a quick look. 'It's me the one who should be sorry.'
'But it's not your fault, Chan. It's work, you have schedules and many times they may not be planned. That's how it works for many other jobs too, think about it.' you try to reason, once again taking his hands into your stroking them.
'It's the third time in four months. First it was your birthday, then Christmas, and now New Year's. It's starting to stress me out. Isn't it stressing you out?' he asked, frowning. You sighed.
'What do you want me to say? 'Chris this is too much, you're always busy with stuff that's out of your control so I'm leaving you'? Is that what you want to hear?' your tone slightly more stern. You weren't mad, but his constant throwing himself under the bus was bothering you. He widened his brown eyes, squeezing your hands slightly.
'No! What? Of course not. I was just-' you stood up straight, shushing him.
'Then stop with that shit. We can reschedule later. I don't give a fuck whether it is December 31st or April, or whatever. I'll be happy to spend time with my boyfriend and that's it. Okay? Stop beating yourself up about it.' your voice got warmer. He leaned forward, resting his head on your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you close.
'Still. Im sorry that I keep disappointing you. You deserve better.' the last sentence made you snap so you pushed him back slightly, making him look up at you.
'Oi, don't say shit like that. It's not true.' the little oi clearly being his Aussie influence.
'You are better. You're the best. Don't ever say that, because it's not true. I love you.' you cradled his face in your hands. His big brown eyes looking up at you so sweetly.
'Am I though?' he said sadly. Always doubting himself, you sighed internally.
'Yes you are.' you planted a kiss on his lips, trying to lighten up the mood 'Besides, you know that I'm too honest. If you were being shitty to me I'd tell you. Well, I'd tell your friends first and then you. Just to add that bit of embarrassment.' you shrinked your eyes jokingly, finally getting a chuckle out of him.
That made you smile in return, as you kept caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. He looked up at you again, shaking his head slightly with a small smile on his face. 'What?' you said cutely.
'I love you so much. I wonder what did I do to deserve you.' you smiled sweetly at him before switching again, and clicking your tongue.
'Getting sappy here, Christopher' you released his face, about to turn around to go get your phone, just to shoot a quick message to Hyunjin reassuring that the situation was handled, but chan grabbed your hand making you turn around.
He laughed, smirking up at you slightly. 'Hey, come back here' you chuckled, letting yourself be dragged back. You were now standing in between his legs, him still sitting on his big desk chair.
'You need something?' you joked. 'Just my girl. Right here. Close to me.' your smile turned into a smirk, as your hands started to wander on his shoulders.
'I am close.' his hands came up to your waist then down to your hips, pushing you more into him, your faces close.
'Closer' you carefully straddled him, your arms around his neck.
'Enough?' he chuckled faintly, his lips grazing your neck and then whispering 'Never' into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
'Greedy boy' you teased 'I can get even more greedy. Will you let me?' he looked back at you, the slightest hint of humor in his voice, but his eyes were telling a different story.
'Yes' you respondeded without a doubt. 'Go ahead. Do whatever you want. I know you need it.' at that point he crashed his lips to yours, immediately starting a passionate kiss. Your hands gripped his broad shoulders as his hands pressed your hips down to his crotch.
At that point your dress had already pooled around your hips, so the only thing separating you two were your pantyhose and panties, aside from his own pants. As you continued kissing and grinding, he got hard quite quickly.
One of his hands were holding you close to him while the other wandered under the dress and then straight to the hem of the pantyhose and the panties.
'Off' he mumbled in between kisses, so you carefully stood up, a little dazed from the heat of the moment and quickly discarded them both at the same time. Chan also got up to get rid of his own pants and underwear, and then reprised to kiss you.
He tried to lead you to the bed, but you stopped him 'No, I want to ride you there' you slowly pushed him back on the chair, his gaze not leaving you for a single moment.
'Fuck baby' he cursed, before widening his eyes for a moment 'Wait let me close the door-' you pushed him back again, shooting him a smirk.
'Relax, baby. Hold on' you went to close the door, turning the lock for safety, even though you knew that most likely none of the members would've stepped back into the house unless you told them to.
'Need you so bad, c'mere' he grabbed your hand, almost making you stumble into him. You chuckled, straddling him again. He wetted his fingers slightly with some spit before his hand went straight to stroke your slit. You moaned into his neck, as you kept your knees raised at his sides to allow him access.
'So wet already' he teased, making you groan and hump his hand more.
'You made me go out in the cold and interrupt a good movie. Now get to work, Christoper.' you complained, erupting a chuckle from him.
'Okay, okay.' he surrendered, I'll warm you back up real quick, baby girl' at that point he lined up his hard cock with your pussy, gathering some wetness before helping you sink down on him. You both moaned deeply, mumbling some curses.
'Fuck, Channie...so big' he hummed while kissing your neck as his hands supported the back and forth movement of your hips. You started kissing as your hips kept on going faster, then slower again, then going in circles.
After a while though, Chan seemed to notice you trying to get more stimulation to your slit, so he decided to take matter in his own hands.
'Wait, baby, hold on' he interrupted the kiss and grabbed the hem of your dress, taking it off of you and throwing it on the carpet nearby. The fact that you weren't wearing a bra was a pleseant surprise.
'No bra? Naughty girl' he smirked, making you laugh faintly. He attached his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking and licking, while he played with the other with his pointer and thumb.
'Ah-' you moaned as he grazed the nipple with his teeth lightly, 'Wait, you too' you said, this time being you to take his hoodie off. In the meantime your pussy kept grinding on his dick, a bit more lazily since your knees were kinda starting to ache a bit.
Chan seemed to remember what he wanted to do before getting distracted by your tits, so he stopped once again 'Turn around baby. Want to touch you properly' he said sweetly as he helped you change positions.
You were now sitting with your back pressed to his chest, one of his hands grabbing your breast and the other working on your clit. He was making you feel so good that your mind was starting to get a little fuzzy, your hips grinding on his cock and his fingers mindlessly.
'Yeah, just like that. So good for me, baby' he whispered into your ear, his nose pressed to the side of your head, 'Such a good fuckig girl for me' he kissed your hair, your head, your neck.
'C-Chan, baby, m' close' you whined, one of your hands covering his one on your breast, while the other was between his hair desperately holding on for dear life.
'I know baby, I know' he sped up, pounding you so quick and deep that you were seeing stars, 'Come for me, c'mon. So beautiful' he groaned.
'My beautiful, patient, amazing girl' his fingers applying some more pressure, 'Really don't deserve you' the last phrase so quiet that your fucked out mind almost didn't catch it. Almost.
'C-chan, oh my god' your back arched, moaning out his name as you came. His rythm gradually slowed down, but his thrusts were still sharp and deep.
'Come inside me, baby. Wanna feel you, need to feel you, please' you pleaded, grabbing his jaw to kiss him. He moaned into your mouth, and after a few more sharp thrusts, you felt him coming inside you.
'Yes, that's it, so good' you cooed, giving little kisses on his mouth 'Love you so much' you whispered. He smiled slightly in the kiss, hugging you tight. You moved around, getting more comfortable but still hugging each other tight and cuddling. You were left in a comfortable silence for a while.
'I heard that, you know.' you said softly, his gaze pointing down at you as his fingers still delicately caressed your arm.
'What do you mean?' he asked. You didn't look at him, concentrating on playing with his hands.
'You know exactly what I mean. Stop saying that. I mean it. I love you, and I know that you love me. There must be a reason why we're together and we work. So stop getting into your own head' your eyes locking with his. 'Promise?'
He chewed on his plump lip, definitely feeling guilty that he got scolded yet again. Naked, on his bedroom chair, after some mind blowing sex and a whole lot of feelings. In the end he sighed, nodding and planting a longing kiss on your head.
'Good. Now get me a blanket or something, I'm fucking freezing.' he laughed, bumping his head gently to yours jokingly. Then he helped you get off him and opened one of the closet's drawers and grabbed a fuzzy blanket.
'Wait for me a second, I'll get something to clean up.' he told you as he quickly put his hoodie and pants back on. You nodded as he exited the bedroom. Wrapped up in the blanket, you searched for your phone in your bag. When you found it you quickly dialed Hyunjin's number, who picked up after just a couple of rings.
'Hello?' you could hear some noise in the background, so you assumed that they were maybe in a bar or something.
'Everything's fine.' you said, sitting down to wait for Chan to come back.
'Oh, I'm glad. I knew you would make him reason' just as he said that, you clearly heard Jisung yelling 'Are you done fucking or what' with some laugh erupting.
'Oh my Gosh' you replied, embarassed while you pinched the bridge of your nose with your fingers.
'Shit! Yn, I'm so sorry about that. This motherfucker is just jealous you're getting some' he chuckled, as you heard Jisung saying something along the lines of 'Fuck you'.
'Hyunjin!' you scolded him, not being able to not laugh. They laughed.
'Sorry, sorry. We'll be back in an hour or so, bye!' and he hung up.
'You know, I would've betted on Jisung, because he's a nosy fucker.' you got startled by Chan's voice. He closed the door behind him again and scrunched down in front of you, gently helping you clean up with a warm damp towel.
'But he only talks behind people's back. Should've known it was Hyune.' he sighed. You smiled, messing with his hair.
'C'mon. You should be thankful. You started off wanting to punch a hole in the wall and now look at you'. you teased. He smirked, getting up and discarding the towel in the dirty clothes basket.
'Yeah, the power of pussy I guess' your mouth went slack, as you threw at him your previously discarded panties. He caught them, laughing hard at your outraged reaction.
'Oh so that's what I am to you, uh? Good to know, Christopher' you feigned annoyance and dramatically crossed your legs, looking away from him.
'I'm sorry, I'm sorry' he laughed, coming close to grab your had in between his hands and kissing you. 'You know It's not true. Well, not only-' you gasped in shock again as he threw his head back laughing.
'You little-'
♡︎.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
That's it folks! I know it was quite a rollercoaster, but hopefully decent nonetheless. Until next time <3
#silentcryracha#stray kids bang chan#bang chan x reader#bang chan#skz scenarios#bang chan smut#bang chan scenarios#bang chan fanfic#bang chan x you#chan x reader#chan smut#chan skz#skz imagines#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#stray kids smut#stray kids angst#stray kids fluff
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Hi, how’s your day been going? Hoping it was amazing. I just saw your post about needing inspo for Coriolanus fics! I’m not sure if you are taking requests but if you are Could you maybe do a touch-starved Coryo fic? Something fluffy/angsty where Coryo can finally fulfill those needs and be himself and vulnerable with the reader. Thanks!
as long as you need me - c.s
pairing: coryo x fem!reader
wc: 1.7k
tags/warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, he just needs you and you just want to help.
requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)
nav / coriolanus snow masterlist
a/n: ahhh thank you for sending this in! it was so fun to write like stopppp i just want to give him a hug omg. also thought i'd post this to hold y'all off until i post the next part of LTPF. anyway, enjoy!
You had a very stable grasp of the limits of your relationship. What was appropriate, and what was not. You were quite shy, and Coryo always carried himself with a high level of decorum. You would eat together at lunch, and he would walk you home most days. The weekends, your study dates, were always your favourite. He was significantly more relaxed, but you could still tell he was just a little tightly wound. By now, you've just learned that's who he is. Not overly affectionate, but he cares for you and you care for him.
"I can't stay late today, I'm sorry." You said, genuinely feeling bad for having to turn down the request. In your junior year, you started tutoring for younger grades at the academy and it is something you thoroughly enjoyed.
"I have a test tomorrow! Why can't you stay? Just for a few minutes- I just have a couple of questions." The first year, Aelia whined.
"My boyfriend is supposed to walk me home and he has a tight schedule, but I'll tell you what, I can meet you in the library in the morning before class. That way it will still be fresh in your mind, yeah?" You grinned, and she seemed satisfied as you agreed on a time, not knowing that a few of the girls in your grade were listening in.
"Y/N," Clemensia decided to approach you as Aelia walked off, Arachne and Livia following close behind. "Did I catch you telling someone that you have a boyfriend? Did I hear that right?"
"Oh, well, yes." You answered sheepishly, gathering your things to put in your bag before your next class.
"Really?" Livia chimed in, and you just nodded. "Okay, well, spill. Who is it? Do I know him?"
"Um..." You looked around, deciding what to say. You weren't necessarily keeping it a secret, but you just hadn't felt the need to tell anyone you went to school with. "It's Coriolanus. Snow." You cleared your throat, unsure why you even added his last name. It's not like the name Coriolanus was abundantly common.
"Shut up." Clemensia laughed slightly, eyes widening at you. "You're joking, right?"
"No... We've been together for almost seven months now."
"I just... wow. We had no idea. Seven months! I feel like I've never seen the two of you get closer than two feet apart." You weren't sure whether to interpret this response as teasing or genuine shock- so you just gave them an awkward smile and a small nod before walking away.
At the time, you had never considered how your lack of affection in public could be confusing to people- not that it mattered. Rumors had spread quickly after that, which was to be expected when Livia and Arachne were involved. However, PDA just wasn't your thing. General displays of affection weren't really your thing, either. Both of you always had a lot going on, and having been together for almost a year by now, you knew that you loved him and he loved you. You didn't have to prove it to each other or to anyone, there was no pressure for anything to change. On your end, anyway.
Coryo, on the other hand, was feeling something shift. Leading up to the reaping and more importantly, to the prize. You both were in the running, being in the top twenty-four of your class, and you had no doubt that Coryo was a shoo-in, but you didn't know how extremely anxious it was making him. The now constant thrumming of his heartbeat in his chest and his shaky hands were always less around you, and he can only dream of how much better it would be if he could just hold you.
These days, he'd wake up expecting you in his arms due to a particularly calming dream only to be disappointed. He respected you a great amount and wouldn't want to push your boundaries, however unspoken. Still, he wasn't sure how much longer he could go about his day-to-day without testing his theory that holding you could cure his fears, or at least let him forget about them for only a moment. He would happily take just a second of peace.
Coriolanus usually greeted you outside of your unshared classes, seeing that you tended to stay a few minutes late to ask questions or polish off your notes. He couldn't wait to see you, he needed to.
"Coryo." You smile, walking out of your lecture hall to see him waiting.
"Hi, Love. How was class?" Your boyfriend greets you, joining you on your walk towards the exit of the school.
"It was good. Though, I find the topic of the rebellion kind of redundant at this point." You say, books tucked against your chest under folded arms. "Is it not too soon to discuss it in a history class? I mean, I literally remember what it was like to live in a bomb shelter."
Your joke seemingly lands on deaf ears as he just hums, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you out of the building. This wasn't totally unusual, but with the way he was pushing you, albeit gently, was telling you that something was wrong.
"Is everything okay?" You ask him, looking up at the boy next to you as you reach the bottom of the academy's front steps.
"Fine." Coryo nods, attempting a reassuring smile that he isn't aware falls short.
"Okay, well... If you want to talk about anything, I'm here for you, you know. Always."
"I know. Thank you, Love." He drops his hand from your back to hold your free one, turning in the direction of your apartment.
The next afternoon, you're in the same class, one of the rare ones you don't share with Coryo, taking down notes from the lecture when there's a knock on the door, followed by it creaking open. You pay no mind, taking the opportunity to catch up on everything written on the board.
"May I borrow Y/N, please?" Your boyfriend's voice is scratchy and shakey in a way unfamiliar sounding to you, making your head snap up. You'd never seen him cry before. "Only for a moment."
Your teacher dismisses you, likely on account of your and Coriolanus's mutually spotless records and his red-rimmed eyes. Clearly, you were needed urgently. You leave your bag and your books, ignoring the whistles and heckling of some of your classmates as you rush to the door.
Coryo had reached his breaking point. He was writing his third paper of the week, unable to focus on that and get his mind off of how unlikely it was he would get the prize if the Dean had any say. Sitting in the library, the world had started turning around him. People were talking, laughing, even, and he couldn't take it anymore. The floodgates opened and he had rushed out of the room. He couldn't go home, his attendance would be affected and he'd be throwing away the prize most definitely. He had nowhere to go, except for to you.
You close the door behind yourself, thankful that the hallway is completely deserted during class time. "Hey, what's going on?" You ask, and before you can get a good look at him he's pulling you into a crushing hug, shaking around you.
You're shocked for a moment, pulling yourself out of your head to hug him back. Whatever is bothering him must be bad. He'd hugged you before, but never like this. "Hey, it's okay..." You whisper, rubbing his back. "Let's go outside for a second, yeah? Get some air?" You offer, gently prying yourself from his grasp to look at him.
Coryo can't speak, overtaken completely by the tears flowing down his cheeks and the anxiety flooding every inch of his body. He feels like he could be sick, all he knew that he needed was you. He just nods, trying to regain his composure, if only for the couple of minutes it takes to get outside.
"Okay. Let's go." You smile, trying not to show how worried you are as you wrap an arm around his back, still holding him close to you as if he has a broken ankle and you have to carry him. So far, his theory was proving to be correct. Just having you at his side was calming to him, and mentally he's cursing himself for not voicing his fears to you before they broke him.
As soon as the door of the rarely used back exit to the school is closed, he's essentially collapsing onto the ground, tucking his knees up to his chest and crying into his hands. You're quick to join him, draping an arm over his back and trying to grab one of his hands to hold. Your brow is knit with worry, rubbing his shoulder as he allows you to take one of his shaking hands. "Coryo..." You say softly, trying to get him to look at you but he won't. "What's happening? Talk to me, you can trust me. I just want to help."
He sniffles, looking up at you. "What is it?" You ask again, hoping to prompt any kind of information out of him. When he doesn't answer, you curve your approach to yes or no questions, hopefully, to make it easier on him. "Is someone hurt? Is it Grandma'am? Did something happen?"
He shakes his head slightly with every question, once again avoiding your eyes as he looks down at the ground, occasionally trying to cough out the knot in his throat.
"...Do you want to talk? Or do you just need a hug?" You realize, leaning in so he would look at you again.
He pulls you closer, wrapping both his arms around you awkwardly due to the way you are both sitting. "Just need you here." He mumbles, hardly audible as he buries his face in your shoulder and neck.
Relieved to hear his voice again, you place a hand on his hair and on his back, holding him tight. "I'm here, Coryo. As long as you need me."
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#tbosas#tbosas fic#thg series#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus fanfiction#coryo snow#coryo x reader#snow lands on top#the hunger games#tom blyth
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]
PAIRINGS — James Wilson x ex-wife!Reader
SUMMARY — James and Reader have not been on great terms since their divorce, but an emerging situation with their son forces them to put aside their differences and work together and hope that past feelings don't resurface
WARNINGS — hospitalization, chronic illness, swearing, complicated feelings (idk y'all they're divorced what more can I say)
NOTE — Okay so I have so many things to say about this fic, but if I say them all this post will be way too long it already is like this came up as 33 pages in my docs but this is a day late birthday present for @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey who also provided the James pic I hope you had such a fun day and a great year of simping ahead!
Pronounciation — Mahlet = Ma-h-let | Hennock = Hey-knock
Ever since you had become a mother, birthday parties were the bane of your existence. The sugar overload, the loud noises, the cleanup afterwards, all amounted to your own personal hell. Yet, you would move hell or high water for your son to have the most enjoyable party every single year.
Today was no different, eight years later you were still breaking your back to ensure every small detail was perfect, from the pin the spikes on the stegosaurus to the cake you’d spent at least a month painstakingly training to make.
A friend of yours, another parent from the school your son Julian went to, came over in the kitchen to give you a hand with some of the snacks.
“How are you managing here?” she asked and you took a deep breath.
“Managing is the operative word,” you chuckled. “Kids having fun out there?”
“Yeah, loads, you’ve outdone yourself again,” she assured you. “Will James be making an appearance?”
“I stopped asking myself that question after we got divorced,” you said while fixing the plate of vegetables and dip. “He’s supposed to, he promised Julian, but we all know how that ends.”
There seemed to be a bit of commotion out in the backyard and you tried to assess what was happening from the window, but your suspicions that something was off was confirmed when Julian’s best friend, Hennock, came rushing inside.
“Mrs. Wilson, something’s going on with Julian,” he said and you frowned while your friend followed you outside to see the kids circling around Julian who seemed to be gripping onto his chest.
“Jay, what’s going on? Are you okay?” you bent down to be closer to his eye-level, trying to understand what was happening to your son.
“Can’t…” he pointed to his mouth. “Can’t…breathe,” he wheezed.
Your eyes went wide, but before you could grab him and run for the car he began to cough and you hoped and prayed there was just something caught in his throat that would make its way out, but with the coughing came spatters of red all over your white shirt.
“Mahi,” you looked over at your friend quickly while picking Julian up. You didn’t have to say a word, she already knew what she needed to do.
Living close to the hospital, it was worth it to drive yourself, that way you didn’t have to wait for an ambulance to get to you. You had made the mental calculations many times before, just in case there was an emergency and now it was finally coming in handy.
When you got Julian in the car, you checked in on his breathing, it was still laboured, but at least at this point he was getting in the air, even if he was coughing up blood.
You turned on the car and began driving while calling your ex-husband with one hand. The line rang until you reached voicemail so you called again, expecting at least this time for him to pick up, only to hear the tone once more.
“Dammit James!” you threw your phone down on the seat next to you knowing you’d deal with him later, now you needed to focus on getting to the hospital without killing either of you.
Barely paying attention to how your car was parked, you grabbed Julian out of the back seat and ran into the ER with him.
“Ma’am, what’s going on?” a nurse came and asked you as you put Julian down.
“My son, he-he’s having trouble breathing and he’s coughing up blood I-I-I don’t know what’s happening.”
Before you could say a word they had whisked Julian away and another nurse came to ask you some questions about his medical history and any information that may be important to the doctors treating him.
“Where’s my son?” you asked, “I want to see my son.”
“Ma’am I’m sorry, but the doctors are working on getting his airway cleared, you can’t be with him right now.”
You pressed your lips into a thin line and bit back your tongue. There were a million and one things you wanted to say to the nurse, but none of them would help your situation. On the other hand, finding your ex might.
So instead of finding the waiting room you went over to the elevator and made your way up to the oncology department, briskly walking through the halls until you reached his office. At this point, you didn’t bother knocking, opening the door to see him sitting down over a file and talking with House.
“Hey Greg,” you said in a fake cheery voice. “Mind giving us the room?”
“Oh, this is the wife with the kid, did you forget to pay child support?” House asked James.
“Get out, Greg,” you said warningly and he listened, instead opting to steal the rest of James’ sandwich and slipping past you, while wishing James good luck and letting you slam the door shut behind you.
“What’s going on?” James asked, clearly confused by your demeanour and appearance. “If this is about the party I didn’t forget I was-wait is that blood,” he stood up from his chair and came over to you.
“What’s going on is you didn’t pick up your fucking phone,” you said angrily.
“Hey,” James looked at you sternly. “What is going on?” he repeated his question, this time more pointedly.
You could feel your lips begin to tremble and your vision became blurred while you shook your head.
“Who’s blood is on your shirt?”
You chewed on the inside of your cheek, “It’s Julian’s.”
“Julian-I-what happened?” his demeanour changed from frustrated with your attitude towards him to worrying for his son.
“I-I don’t know he said he couldn’t breathe and then he started coughing up blood and I just picked him up and drove him here a-and now they won’t let me see him.”
“You drove him?” he asked incredulously. “You didn’t think to maybe call an ambulance?”
“That’s what you’re hung up on? That I decided to drive because it was faster than getting him an ambulance?”
“That’s not what I-,”
“Yes it is,” you stepped back. “I wouldn’t have needed an ambulance if you were there.”
James sighed and chose to ignore your comment,
“Where is he?” he asked.
“Emergency room,” you muttered. “They won’t let me see him, you need to talk to them, say something, anything.”
James nodded his head, at least you could agree on that. He walked with you out of the office and to the elevator so you could go to the ER together and figure out what the hell was happening to your son.
When you got down there and James began speaking to the nurses, they informed him that Julian had been moved to the ICU and his respiration was being closely monitored while they ran a few tests to see what had caused the arrest.
You had to fight to hold yourself upright when they pulled back the curtain and you could see Julian hooked up to all the machines and with a ventilator tube stuck down his throat. You covered your mouth with your hand and shook your head again. This couldn’t be happening, now you were supposed to be cutting into cake and opening presents, not sitting in the ICU.
You stepped inside with James and he closed the curtain to give you a bit of privacy and decided to look over his chart and see if they had given any relevant information there. Seeing none, he turned his attention over to you, seeing your eyes filled with tears, unable to tear your gaze away from your son.
James walked over to you and cautiously put a hand on your shoulder, eventually encouraging you to turn around so he could pull you into his arms. You allowed your tears to soak his white coat, gripping onto him so tightly because there was nowhere else to hold.
You could hear his breathing change, accompanied by the small sniffles and you knew he was doing just as bad as you were right now, wiping the tears from his own eyes as he finally allowed himself to see his son as he was, sick, helpless, vulnerable, and only moments ago, without his dad’s help when he needed him most.
Your moment was interrupted when you heard the curtain being pulled back and you saw two doctors standing there. You pulled away from James and wiped whatever remaining tears were in your eyes so you could properly address them.
It seemed as though one of the doctors recognized James and when he looked down at the file and saw the name he made the connection internally.
“Can we talk to you guys out in the waiting room for a moment?” he asked.
“I don’t want to leave my son,” you shook your head.
“Ma’am, this is the ICU and the visiting hours are very strictly adhered to, I think your husband maybe got lucky and pulled a few strings so you could see your son, but we need to leave now.”
“He’s not my husband,” you muttered and reluctantly followed them out of the makeshift room and towards the waiting area.
“Did you find out what was wrong?” James asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I looked at his chart. You took him for an emergency CT and bloodwork.”
“We also ran a few other tests,” the doctor began explaining. “From the medical history your, um, ex wife gave I had a suspicion of something so we ran a sweat test to check for elevated chloride levels and it just came back positive.”
“Chloride levels?” you looked up at James. “What does that mean?”
James sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “It means Julian has cystic fibrosis.”
“I-I’ve heard of that, is it curable?” you asked.
“I’ll leave you guys with Dr. Liu, he deals with the pediatric cystic fibrosis cases and will be able to answer your questions better than I can,” he wished you a good day and left you alone with the other doctor.
“Cystic fibrosis is manageable-,”
“So you can’t cure it,” you reiterated.
The doctor shook his head, “Unfortunately there is no cure for CF yet, but many people have been able to live longer and happy lives with the medical technology now available.”
James was silent, taking in all the information that was being presented.
“How did he get it? Is it contagious or-or was it just always there?” you asked.
“It’s a genetic condition, so he’s always had it, the symptoms have just gotten to the point where they’re now visible,” the doctor explained.
“I-It’s genetic so one of us is a carrier?” you pointed to you and James.
“We both are,” James said. “Both parents have to be carriers to pass it down to their child, right?”
Dr. Liu nodded and you pressed your lips together.
“C-Can you just tell us what this means for right now?” you asked. “I just think-I think I need a minute.”
Dr. Liu nodded his head and explained they were giving Julian medication to help with the infection and airway damage that caused him to cough up blood, then they would get him on some bronchodilators to help with his breathing for the time being while they assessed what other issues the cystic fibrosis had potentially caused in his body. He’d have to stay at the hospital for a while, but hopefully could be moved to the pediatric ward within the next day or so.
“We can talk more about what Julian’s medical journey will look like later, I’ll give you guys some time together and if you have any questions, Wilson’s got my pager and knows where my office is.”
You nodded your head and thanked him quietly as he left the waiting area. You finally sat down on one of the chairs.
James took the seat next to you and you covered your face with your hands.
“We couldn’t give him a functional family and a happy home and now we’ve given him a chronic medical condition to top it off.”
“Blaming ourselves isn’t going to do anything for Julian,” James said.
“And sitting around here is?” you asked and James sighed.
“No, no it’s not.”
You sat there in silence for a little while longer before you noticed James stand up and motion for you to follow him. As much as you didn’t want to listen to him and just sit and wait until they would let you be with Julian again, you got up and followed him to one of the OR supply closets. He used a key to unlock the door and sifted through some materials until he found what he was looking for, pulling out a scrub shirt in your size and handing it over to you.
You looked down at your own shirt, seeing the red specks of Julian’s blood and closed the door behind your both, pulling your shirt off over your head and handing it to James. You were about to put the other shirt on when you noticed the flecks of dried blood against your chest.
While you eyes were transfixed on that, James had grabbed an alcohol wipe package from the shelves and tore it open with his teeth, removing the wipe and reaching over to help you clean the blood off yourself.
“James, I can do it myself,” you reached for the wipe, but he pulled it away.
“You’ve got some on your neck too, just let me take care of it,” he insisted.
You knew better than to cause a fight over something trivial like this right now so you put your hands down, watching as James tossed your shirt over his shoulder and carefully began wiping away the specks of your son’s blood off your chest, collarbone, and neck.
“Have you eaten today?” he asked you while holding your face to tilt it to the side so he could get a spot he’d missed earlier.
“No, why?”
“Because it’s his birthday, you’d always forget to eat until dinner and even then it would be scraps from the party until I forced you to eat something better,” he recounted. “Let’s just go grab something from the cafeteria before we go back to the ICU, okay?”
“Will it make a difference if I say I’m not hungry?” you asked.
“You can’t take care of Julian if you’re not taking care of yourself.”
You scoffed and pulled the shirt over your head, “And you’ve suddenly become an expert on taking care of your family?”
“Believe it or not, we were once happy and there was a reason we got married and decided to have a child together.”
“And there’s a reason we got divorced too,” you added and opened the door behind you.
You didn’t go to the cafeteria, instead heading back to the ICU waiting room knowing either visiting hours would have to start eventually or they’d move Julian to his own room and you could finally sit with him.
James clearly hadn’t followed you so you ended up alone again, wringing your hands and waiting for some sort of news.
Eventually, you felt a bag drop on your lap and you looked up and saw James standing overtop of you. You looked inside and saw a package of a sandwich, a small bag of chips, and a water bottle.
You knew he was right, that if you didn’t take care of yourself you wouldn’t be able to take care of Julian, so you forced yourself to eat, even if you didn’t want to.
A little while later, Dr. Liu had returned and informed you that they were moving Julian to the pediatric ward and you could stay with him there in his room. When you joined him there, James had taken off his white coat and tossed it on one of the chairs, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and sitting down next to Julian’ taking one of his hands in his own.
“Don’t you have patients you need to see?” you asked, sitting on the opposite side of the hospital bed.
“I told Cuddy I needed the day, someone else is taking care of it for me,” he said, not removing his gaze from Julian.
With the two of them sitting next to each other like that, you could clearly see the similarities Julian had with his father. They shared the same eyes and nose, and when they smiled they had the same little creases around their eyes.
You wished that’s what you could have been looking at, them smiling together, instead of the frown etched onto James’ face and Julian still fast asleep while an oxygen mask now delivered the air he needed to help him breathe.
“Do you know much about cystic fibrosis?” you asked James, brushing your thumb against Julian’s other hand.
“Only that it mainly affects the digestive system and the respiratory tract,” he explained. “I’m not too familiar with how it's managed, just that there’s regular doctor’s visits and probably some medication and therapies involved.”
You could feel a small stirring and you looked down and saw Julian’s hand begin to move underneath yours.
You smiled when you saw his eyes blink open and James was quick to stand up and come closer to him so he had a familiar face to look at while he took in his surroundings.
“Hey buddy,” James smiled and you could see Julian light up at the sight of his dad. He lifted his hand to try to remove the oxygen mask, but James gently encouraged him not to. “This is giving your lungs an extra hand right now, let’s just keep it on until the doctor tells us it's okay to take it off.”
“But you’re a doctor,” Julian countered and James chuckled.
“I am, but I'm not your doctor. I am, however, your dad so you have to listen to me anyways,” he teased and bent down to kiss his son’s cheek and tickle him a little bit in the process.
“Hey, go easy on him,” you placed a gentle hand on James' arm and he laid off.
“You know,” James said. “It’s still your birthday.”
“It is?” Julian asked and you both nodded and James reached down to grab something he’d brought with him.
“All the presents your friends got you are at home waiting for you to get better so you can open them, but this is what I got for you,” he said. “I was gonna come and bring it to the party, but I think you brought the party to me.”
Julian laughed a little at that and you rolled your eyes, of course James could make himself look good by not showing up.
He sat up with the help of his dad and pulled out the tissue paper from the bag to see the present that was hiding underneath. With a big grin on his face, he took out a dinosaur stuffed animal along with a book all about the different species of the Cretaceous period.
“This is awesome,” Julian grinned. “Thanks dad, I love it.”
James gave Julian another kiss and you joined them, taking a seat on the bed and glancing over at the book on Julian’s lap.
“How are you feeling sweetheart?” you asked, fixing the twisted band of the oxygen mask on his face.
“My throat hurts a little bit,” he admitted. “And I’m kinda hungry.”
“Let me call a nurse and we’ll see what you can eat,” you said and pressed the button to send someone over from the nurses’ station.
Meanwhile, James poured Julian a glass of water and helped him take a few sips of it. His throat was probably irritated from being on the ventilator, but his lungs had become stabilized from the use of the bronchodilators.
The nurse came and you spoke to her about getting Julian something to eat and she said she’d double check with Dr. Liu and then grab him some food.
“Hey, Jay,” you walked over to the bed and took your son’s hand in yours. “Are you okay to hang out here with dad while I go grab some stuff from home? The doctors said we might hang around here for a few days so I think I need to pack a bag.”
“Yeah, that’s okay,” Julian nodded. “Are you okay mom?” he reached up and touched your cheek and you realized you'd let a few more tears slip.
“Yeah, I’m just really happy you’re okay,” you wiped the tears away and pressed a big kiss to his cheek. “Right, Jamie? We’re both happy he’s okay.”
James looked over at you with softness reflecting in his eyes at the sound of the nickname he hadn’t heard in a long time and nodded his head.
“Bring some cake back with you,” Julian whispered. “Even if dad and the doctor say no we can sneak some.”
You laughed at his plan and gave him another kiss, assuring him you’d pack some in a container to bring for him when you came back.
When you arrived at your home, you thought you might cry at the sight in front of you. The kitchen and living room were completely clean, presents piled neatly on the coffee table along with a new card you didn’t recognize. Coming closer, you noticed the bright marker, signature of eight-year-olds across the country, with the message Get Well Soon Julian! written on it and signed by all his friends who had attended the party.
You packed the card in your bag along with a few other things and made a mental note to grab a nice thank you gift for Mahlet to thank her for what she had done.
As promised, you cut a big chunk of cake, enough for the three of you to share, and packed it in a tupperware to bring back to the hospital.
You grabbed a few changes of clothes for both you and Julian and changed out of the temporary shirt you had on and into something more comfortable for the rest of the evening, making sure everything you needed was in place before heading out and going back to the hospital.
When you got back to Julian’s room you saw James squished in next to him on the bed, the book he had bought him opened on his lap as he read its contents to Julian. Julian was resting his head against James’ arm and James was doing those big exaggerations he always would whenever he’d read bedtime stories to Julian, emphasizing all the insane details and changing the inflections of his voice in just the right way to make him laugh.
“I brought cake,” you grinned, holding up the container as you entered the room, holding three plastic forks. “If Dr. Dad says it's okay, we can eat it.”
“Dr. Dad desperately needs some sugar,” James nodded his head and closed the book for the time being while you took a seat by Julian’s legs and opened the container, handing each of the boys a fork.
You helped Julian take off his oxygen mask for the time being and placed it off to the side, acutely aware of how his breathing sounded more laboured without it.
James only snuck in a couple bites of the cake before taking the mask from your side and holding it ready in case Julian needed a bit of an extra hand.
Just as he had predicted, after a few bites of cake Julian was noticing a bit of a difficulty to get air into his lungs and James held up the mask to his face, allowing him to take a couple deep breaths.
“What do you think of the cake, Jay?” you asked.
“Really good, just like everytime you make it,” he grinned.
“I’m sorry you didn’t have a great birthday, buddy,” James apologized. “I mean with all your friends and classmates.”
“What do you mean?” Julian asked. “I think I had a good birthday.”
“You do?” you frowned curiously, wondering what kind of light he’d seen in the day that you and James as worried parents had somehow missed. “What made it good?”
“We’re sitting eating cake. Together. Just like when I was little,” he said simply and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, looking over at James whose gaze hadn’t left Julian. He almost looked disappointed, at what, you couldn’t place, but at least for the moment Julian was happy and that was all either of you really wanted.
—
You grabbed your purse from the ground and thanked Dr. Liu for all of the information he had given you and assured you’d be there with Julian at the allocated follow-up time you had arranged. You were just about to leave when James came rushing into the room, apologies spewing out of his mouth for being late.
“Late? You missed the whole appointment.”
“I-I did?” he said, looking down at his watch and cursing when he saw the time.
“Jay, sweetheart, why don’t you sit down here,” you moved out of Dr. Liu’s office and set him up on a chair in one of the general waiting areas and handed him his dinosaur book from your purse. “I just need to go have a chat with your dad real quick.”
Julian nodded and opened up the book, flipping through the pages while you grabbed James’ arm and pulled him into a dead-end hallway so you could speak in private.
“What the hell took you so long?” you asked firmly. “We waited for twenty minutes before even starting the appointment!”
“I’m sorry,” James apologized, “I was in the OR with a patient and something went haywire and it took longer than expected to fix it.”
“Still, you couldn’t have told someone to at least pass on a message?”
“I was in the middle of saving a patient’s life! What did you want me to do?”
“I wanted you to be there for your son,” you whispered harshly. “You make promises you can’t keep and I have to watch him get disappointed over and over again. He does not deserve that, especially now.”
James placed his hands on his hips and said,
“I am trying to be there, it’s not for lack of effort-,”
“Well try harder!” you threw your hands up in the air. “You’re an ex-husband James, not an ex-father. You don’t have to show up for me anymore, but you damn well better show up for him.”
When he said nothing you continued.
“Believe it or not, you don’t have to work as much as you do James. You chose to do that and right now that’s coming at your son’s expense and he is scared and vulnerable and neither of us know half of what Dr. Liu is talking to us about. Do you know what he said to me when I was confused about the management plan? He said Dad would know what this means. Dad can help us. And he’s right, you would have known and you can help so stop acting like your fucking schedule controls you and get your schedule under control.”
James was quiet for a moment before he nodded his head,
“Okay,” he said simply.
You knew better than to get your hopes up with him and you didn’t have any more energy to argue, so you told him you could talk more later, but right now you were going to take Julian home so he could rest in his own bed and finally open his birthday presents.
“Is dad coming with us?” Julian asked when you picked him up and began walking away to leave the hospital.
“No, not this time,” you shook your head.
“Did you fight with him again?” Julian asked and you pressed your lips together.
“We just had a disagreement,” you settled on. “You can call him later when he’s done work if you want to talk to him, sounds good?”
Julian was content with your answer and left it at that.
Over the next few days, aside from Julian’s call, you didn’t hear much for James and you assumed things were right on track to going back to the way they had always been. You loved your son to pieces, but this was one time you wished his dad would be here to support, working and caring for Julian on top of trying to figure out how to be his at home doctor was already taking its toll and you didn’t know how you’d be able to keep it up.
One night, you were sitting in the living room reading a book Dr. Liu had recommended. It was detailing strategies for parents with children who had cystic fibrosis. In the middle of your chapter you were interrupted by a knock to your door and you put in your bookmark, wondering who was stopping by this far into the evening.
Unlocking the door and opening it, you found it hard to hide the surprise in your face when you saw James on the other end.
“James?” you tilted your head. “I haven’t heard from you at all this week, what’s going on?”
“I reduced my patient load,” he said, “and I talked to Cuddy about reducing my clinic hours. I still have to do some administrative stuff for the department, but it can be done from home for the most part.”
“Oh,” you were surprised to say the least. You didn’t realize your outburst the other day had worked.
“You were right,” he said. “I need to be here for Julian and I can’t do that if my work always comes first.”
You nodded your head, following along with what he was saying.
“C-Can I come in and see him?” James asked. “I know our custody agreement has always been all over the place-,”
You didn’t say anything, simply opening the door wider for him to come inside.
“He’s asleep in his room,” you said. “When you’re done we can talk some more.”
James nodded and stepped inside, slipping off his shoes and taking off his jacket, making his way to Julian’s room to sit with him for a moment before joining you in the kitchen.
“Want something to drink?” you asked and he said some water would be nice. You poured him a glass while waiting for the water to boil for your tea.
“I saw the book you were reading over there,” he pointed to the couch. “Dr. Liu recommended it to me too, I just finished it the other night.”
“Show off,” you rolled your eyes and handed him the glass.
“What I was trying to say is I think something that stood out to me is having consistency and a routine is good, especially when things are new,” James explained. “I don’t think it makes sense for him to be moving back and forth from here to my place.”
“So you think we should have a home base here?” you confirmed and he nodded.
“I can come by more often, if there’s days where you need to be at work I can be doing the administrative stuff here after school and take care of Julian until you get back.”
You pursed your lips and as you heard the kettle click, moved to pour your hot water into the mug you were holding.
“These are all good ideas,” you started.
“I’m assuming there’s a but coming?”
“But I don’t want to give Julian the wrong impression is all.”
James shook his head.
“You really need to pick whatever it is you want,” James crossed his arms over his chest. “First I’m not here enough, I don’t put my family first. Now I’m putting my family first and you’re worried Julian’s going to think this means we’re getting back together.”
“He doesn’t need to get his hopes up for something that’s never going to happen,” you said flatly.
“Have you ever considered having a conversation with him instead of shielding him from every little thing that might hurt him?” James asked and you rolled your eyes.
“Clearly every little thing can hurt him!” you pointed over to his room. “He can’t even breathe without help, James. Maybe he needs to be protected.”
“Stop, just stop,” James ran a hand over his face. “I can’t get into a fight with you every single time we see each other. Julian is just as much my son as he is yours, if this is going to work we need to be able to have a conversation with each other.”
You took a sip of your tea and said,
“Okay, I’m worried Julian might take the fact that you’re around more the wrong way.”
James nodded his head, “I hear you, so maybe we should talk to him about it and say I’m coming around more to lend a hand around the house and help take care of him.”
“Dad? What are you doing here?” as if on cue, Julian had walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes awake and adjusting to the light.
“Julian, where’s your oxygen mask?”
“I don’t wanna wear it mom,” he whined. “I don’t like the way it feels on my face.”
You sighed, having had this conversation at least five times before, you didn’t know what else you could say to convince him.
“Hey buddy, maybe we should listen to mom on this one,” James suggested. “You know that feeling you’ve got right here,” he pointed to his chest. “That’s only gonna get worse if you don’t wear it and we don’t want to have to go to the hospital again, right?”
Julian shook his head and sighed, stomping back over to his room to grab the portable machine and place the tube under his nose and around his ears, allowing him to get the right amount of oxygen.
You looked over at James gratefully and he reached his hand out to yours and gave it a squeeze. It was nice being on the same team even if you had just been arguing.
When Julian came back he repeated his question to his dad who explained that he was here to talk to you about a few things that would be changing soon and that he’d be around more to help look after him.
“If you’re going to be here to help look after me can you stay tonight?” Julian asked. “Mom still has some of your clothes in those boxes in her closet.”
“She does, does she,” James looked over at you.
“It was the stuff you wanted to give away and I never got around to it,” you said. “There’s probably a hoodie and some pyjama pants in there if you want to stay.”
James pressed his lips together and sighed,
“You know buddy as much as I would love to have a sleepover with you I don’t think it’s a good idea if I spend the night here,” James said. “But I can tuck you in again and wait until you fall asleep to go back home.”
“Mom, can you come too?” Julian asked and you nodded your head.
James stood up and helped Julian carry his portable oxygen machine back to his bedroom and you trailed behind them, watching as James carefully tucked Julian back under the covers while peppering his face with small kisses, like he would do when Julian was younger and just learning to sleep in his own room.
“Dad that tickles,” Julian giggled and James simply smiled and continued littering his face with kisses.
“Too bad. I love you too much; I just can’t get enough of you.”
“Alright, move it,” you nudged James from the opposite side of the bed and took your turn. “It must tickle having two parents who love you so damn much.”
“It does,” Julian’s laughter died out as you both finally left him alone, sitting on either side of his mattress.
You both wished him a good night and waited as he slowly fell back asleep. When his breathing was steady and his grip loosened on yours and James’ hands you took it as your cue to leave the room.
James placed a hand on your shoulder as you stepped out of the room, prompting you to turn around and face him.
“I’ll come by tomorrow and we can work out a schedule or something, does that sound good?”
You nodded your head,
“Yeah, I have a work thing tomorrow in the evening, I was gonna ask Mahlet, Hennock’s mom, if she could come look after Julian, but if you’re around…”
“I’ll come for dinner and then do the bedtime routine,” he said and you smiled.
“James I’m begging you-,”
“I won’t be late,” he assured. “No surgeries planned and I’m ending my shift with clinic duty.”
You pressed your lips into a thin line and nodded your head.
“I’ll see you then,” you patted his arm and he showed himself out.
You walked back to the kitchen grabbing your now lukewarm cup of tea and sitting back on the couch picking up your book and opening it, reading until you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer, falling asleep right there on the couch.
—
Over the next few months, you, James, and Julian had developed some sort of routine around school, work, and doctor’s appointments. A part of you thought you were spending more time together as a family than when you were married.
Today you had to go in for work, also having reduced your hours, but in a way that you were working in tandem with James. When you arrived back home the house smelled like warm spices and big plates of home-cooked food.
You dropped your keys on the entryway table, next to James’ keys and wallet and took off your jacket, hanging it up before coming to the kitchen and seeing Julian and Hennock doing their homework at the island.
“Mr. Wilson, what is the difference between these two words?” Hennock asked, holding up his paper so James could see while cutting some vegetables for a salad.
“I think the first one is the kind of principal in your school that looks after all the students and the other one is… man, that’s hard to describe. Hey, how do you describe what principle is to an eight-year-old?” James asked you.
“I think that kind of principle is something that guides the way people behave or act,” you sat next to Julian and Hennock. “Like a principle is the foundation for something that people believe in.”
Hennock and Julian still looked a little confused by your explanation so you tried to give an example.
“So a principle could be to be kind to everyone we meet and so people who believe in that principle will try to follow it.”
That put it in better terms for them to understand and there was a chorus of oh’s before they looked back down at their papers and scribbled down a few things to answer the questions they were asked.
“They learning about homonyms?” you asked James and he nodded.
“I talked to Mahlet,” James said, changing the topic. “Hennock’s gonna stay for dinner and she’ll come pick him up around seven.”
“Sounds good, it’s always nice to have you, Henny,” you smiled and ruffled your hand through his coarse curly hair in an endearing way.
“Thanks, Mrs. Wilson,” Hennock smiled.
James was now over the stove, stirring what looked like a soup before giving it a taste and figuring something might be missing.
“Can you taste this?” James asked. “I don’t know why, but every time I make it there’s something off.”
You took a spoon and tried a little bit of the broth, looking down to see that he was making matzah ball soup and immediately when you tasted it you knew what was missing.
“I know what it is,” you said. “But you can’t tell your mom I told you. She swore me to secrecy.”
“My mother told you this?” James asked and you nodded.
“When we were getting married she wanted me to know how to make it the way she would for you when you were sick.”
“And she didn’t think to tell her own son how to do this?” he seemed thoroughly offended, but all you could do was laugh.
“It’s tarragon. I don’t think it’s something everyone adds, it was just something special she’d put in hers to make it a little different. Here,” you reached into the spice cupboard and took out a jar of dried tarragon and took a bit of the herb out of the container and crushed it in your hands before sprinkling it into the soup. James mixed it in and gave the broth a minute to soak in the flavour before trying it again and shaking his head.
“I can’t believe she didn’t tell me!”
“I’ll let you finish having your little meltdown,” you patted his back. “I’m gonna hop in the shower quickly and we can eat when I get out.”
“Did Dad forget the tarragon?” Julian asked and you nodded your head.
“Wow, so everyone knew, but me?” James asked and you nodded your head with a shrug.
“Sorry, I guess your mom has favourites, or something.”
“Figures,” James teasingly rolled his eyes and you chuckled, waving him off and going to take a shower and change into something a little more comfortable.
When you came back outside they had migrated to the dining room table, each with a bowl of soup in front of them and a plate of salad. You sat on the same side as James since Julian and Hennock were already sitting next to each other and the boys happily recounted the details of their school day and playdate with you while everyone ate their soup and salad.
“What did you do at work, Dad?” James asked.
“Oh, nothing interesting,” he shook his head. “I think your mom was doing bigger things than me.”
“Bigger than treating people with cancer? You flatter me,” you drank some of your soup’s broth. “I had a meeting with a big company about a building they’re making.”
“Did you go do a site visit?” James asked and you nodded.
“Engineers are being a pain in the butt, keep making me adjust the design, but we’ll see who gets the last laugh.”
“Mom always does,” Julian told Hennock and they chuckled along with James.
After dinner James helped you clear up some of the dishes before heading out and leaving you with the boys. When Mahlet came by to pick Hennock up you invited her in for tea and a little visit.
“Thanks for coming to stay with Julian the other night,” you said after handing her a mug. “For once, I was the late one and James had an emergency come up so it was a huge help.”
“And how are things now, with the co-parenting?”
You took a sip of your tea, “Weirdly good,” you admitted. “We don’t argue as much which is nice and Julian gets to see his dad more.”
“Do you think maybe you’re not fighting because he’s changing?” she asked.
“I don’t wanna go down that path,” you shook your head. “If Jay hadn’t been diagnosed things would still be the same as they always were.”
“But they’re not. More often than not people show their true colours during times of difficulty.”
You took a deep breath and sighed, “If that was the case I would have seen something worth keeping when my marriage was falling apart.”
Mahlet nodded, seeing as you had a point and your conversation was halted as they boys came out of Julian’s room.
Mahlet and Hennock left shortly afterwards and you quickly got Julian ready for bed, tucking him in and then going to get settled yourself. You looked through a few client papers for work before calling it a night and turning off your bedside lamp, curling into bed and falling asleep.
Your sleep was interrupted in the middle of the night by a tapping on your shoulder and when you blinked your eyes open you saw Julian standing next to your bed.
“Jay, sweetheart, is something wrong?” you asked.
“My stomach really hurts,” he told you and you sat up, motioning for him to come sit with you on the bed.
“Where?” you asked, turning on the light and he pointed to the upper right corner of his abdomen. If you remembered correctly that wasn’t exactly where his stomach was and your suspicions were confirmed when you saw the yellowing whites of his eyes. “Oh, sweetheart, I think we have to go to the hospital.”
“The hospital? What happened?” Julian looked worried and you assured him everything would be alright.
“We’re just being safe,” you told him. “I’m gonna call your dad, maybe he can tell us a little bit more of what’s going on. Do you feel good enough to get your jacket and shoes and your hospital bag?”
Julian nodded his head and you gave him a kiss and he went off to grab his things while you did the same, but also taking your cell phone and calling James.
It took a few rings, but he eventually picked up.
“Hey, did something happen?” he asked and you could still hear the sleep thick in his voice.
“I think something’s wrong with Julian. I’m gonna take him to the hospital, can you meet us there?”
“Yeah, of course, I’m on my way.”
“James…the whites of his eyes were yellow. Does he have jaundice?” you asked.
“It’s possible, was there anything else?”
“Yeah, he mentioned stomach pain, but he pointed to like his upper right abdomen, I think,” you explained while grabbing your bag and putting on some socks.
“Makes sense as a liver issue,” you could hear his car starting in the background. “If he’s presenting symptoms now I would call an ambulance.”
“James-,”
“Just trust me,” he said. “Call 911.”
“Okay,” you nodded your head and hung up, calling the emergency services and explaining the situation to them and then to Julian while you waited for them to arrive.
James made the right call, seeing as while you were in the ambulance Julian began to throw up and the paramedics obviously handled it better than you could have if you had driven him.
When you arrived at the ER they wheeled Julian away and you began getting flashbacks to when you first brought him in.
“Where are you taking him?” you called after them, but no one answered you. “What the hell kind of hospital is this?! Where are you taking my son?!”
“Ma’am they're taking your son to do a liver biopsy,” one of the nurses came back and informed you. “We need you to sign this consent form.”
You nodded your head and took the pen from her hand, signing it, but just as you were about to ask her a question she ran off to give them the okay.
You could feel your anger and worry bubbling inside your throat and you wanted to let it out in a scream and you were about to go running after her, but before you could you felt someone grab your wrist and pull you back.
“James let me go,” you said warningly, looking back at your ex-husband.
“No,” he stated just as firmly.
“James-,”
“I am not going to let you do something you’re going to regret,” he said and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, even when you pushed to get away.
“James, let me go.”
“No,” he repeated and simply held onto you tighter.
“Let me-,” your voice broke and you stopped pushing away. “Please, Jamie, please I just want to see him,” you cried into his shirt and he squeezed you so tight you thought you might get bruises in your arm from the way he was holding you.
“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You brought him here and he’s going to be fine.”
“I can’t do this anymore, James. I can't be his mom and his doctor and they can’t expect me to wait out here while they drag him away and ask me to consent to God knows what.”
James didn’t know what to tell you, instead he just continued to hold you close, rubbing his hands up and down your back, and pressed a soft kiss against your temple.
You wrapped your arms around him and finally let yourself fully sink into his embrace, hating yourself for how much you liked it and how good it made you feel while your son was in some back corner of the ER getting a piece of his liver biopsied.
Eventually James pulled away from you, helping you dry your tears on the sleeve of his sweater and walking with his arm wrapped around you to the waiting area. You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, but it was possible that you had dozed off once or twice against James’ arm, waiting to hear some sort of news from the ER doctor.
“Mr. and Mrs. Wilson?”
Your eyes blinked open when James gently shook you awake.
“That’s us,” he said. “Is Julian okay?”
“Your son has a mild case of cirrhosis,” the doctor explained. “Due to his cystic fibrosis diagnosis we believe this is due to clogging and inflammation in his bile ducts.”
“What does that mean for him? Does he need surgery to fix it?” you asked, fighting back a tired yawn.
“Unfortunately, yes,” the doctor nodded. “It’s good you caught it early, there’s minimal damage to his liver so far and he’s still growing which means his liver is too. We can get him into an OR tomorrow if you consent to the surgery.”
You looked over at James and he nodded his head. You trusted him and told the doctor you would sign the papers as soon as you could see Julian.
“He’s been moved to the pediatric ward for now and Dr. Liu has been informed of the development. He should be in touch with you tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” James said and when the doctor left, he helped you up and you began the walk up to the pediatric ward.
When you arrived a nurse pointed you in the direction of his room and after each pressing a kiss to Julain’s forehead you sat on the seat bench together.
“We should sleep,” James said, but you had a hard time imagining how that would be possible.
“I’m having a hard time working out the logistics,” you admitted.
“Come on, it’ll be just like on the way back from our honeymoon,” he insisted, recalling your extremely delayed flight on the way back from France, causing you to sleep with your head on James’ lap, stretched out along the airport chairs.
You were too tired to argue or try and find another way, so you leaned down and rested your head against his legs, closing your eyes and sighing when you felt his hand rub up and down in long motions along the side of your body. Sleep could not have come quicker.
—
“Mom…Mom, Dad?”
Julian rolled his eyes when he received no answer and grabbed the stuffed animal you had placed next to him when he’d come into the room and threw it at his sleeping parents, nailing his dad in the face.
“Oh, God, mhm, wake up,” James shook you while he raised his hands to rub his face.
“Huh?” you opened your eyes and pushed yourself off of James’ lap. “Oh crap, my back. Remind me not to listen to you when you talk about doing something I did ten years ago.”
“Julian, did you throw Steggy at my face?” James asked, picking up the stuffed animal from where it had fallen on you.
“You weren’t getting up,” Julian shrugged his shoulders.
“Julian,” you chastised and took the dinosaur from James’ hand. “You could have hurt your dad’s important doctor-face,” you joked and rubbed your hand all over James’ face making Julian laugh.
“Okay, okay,” James moved your hand away and gave you a look.
“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” you yawned and moved from the bench to the side of his bed.
“A little better,” he said. “Did the doctors fix what was wrong?”
“Not yet,” James shook his head and came to sit next to you and placed a hand on Julian’s. “You’re gonna have to go in for surgery today.”
“A surgery?” Julian looked a little nervous. “Like cut me open?”
“It’ll be just a line right here,” James drew it with his finger along Julian’s abdomen. “They’re going to fix a part of you called your bile duct and then sew you right back up and you’ll be good as new.”
“Is it dangerous?” he asked.
You looked over at James, a small note telling him to lie to make him feel better. He didn’t need to know all the details.
“No,” James shook his head. “You’re gonna be fine and your mom and I will be here the whole time.”
“Promise?” Julian whispered.
“Swear on it,” James leaned in towards his son and snuck a kiss to his cheek. “We love you, buddy.”
“I love you guys too.”
Dr. Liu came by a little while later to inform you what time the surgery was scheduled for and he helped make Julian feel a lot better about the procedure. When it was finally time for him to go, you were a nervous wreck, but tried not to let it show for Julian’s sake, instead just pressing a big kiss to his forehead and telling him you’d be waiting for him once he got out.
It only took about fifteen minutes of your pacing to get James to grab onto your arm and make you stop.
“You’re gonna burn a hole in the ground,” he said.
“I don’t know what to do with myself,” you admitted. “If I sit I’m gonna fidget, if I stand I’m going to pace.”
“Then come on, let’s go to my office for a second, grab a coffee and a snack and then we can come back out and wait,” he suggested.
You agreed to his idea so he stood up and you walked side by side to his office, passing House who had some comment about your dishevelled appearance together.
“You’re an interesting man, Greg,” you shook your head at him. “You can’t think of any other reason we might be here?”
House was silent so James explained,
“Julian’s in surgery right now. He’s got cirrhosis.”
“Ah so not a late night ex-wife rendez-vous. Can’t get ‘em right all the time,” he shrugged and you chuckled. “I hope the kid’s alright.”
“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” you admitted.
He raised his brows and lifted his cane to say goodbye, letting you and James continue your walk to his office.
“House mind that you’re not spending as much time here?” you asked.
“No, he just bothers me more when I am around,” James said while opening the door and letting you inside.
He went towards his desk and pulled out a few packages of snacks tossing you one and you shook your head when you saw the label.
“You still eat these? I thought the FDA recalled them?” you asked sarcastically.
“I’m sorry I have better taste in food than you do,” he said right back.
“Right, this is food,” you chuckled. “And if you have such good taste why didn’t your mom tell you about her secret ingredient?”
“That’s cold,” he pointed to you with a bag of chips in his hand.
“No, it’s true. Just like your dad telling me I was his favourite wife of yours,” you opened the bag James had tossed you.
“Just shut up and eat your snack,” James chuckled and you listened to him, beginning to eat a little something, not realizing how hungry you were until the food made its way to your stomach.
“You got another one of these?” you asked and he nodded, passing it to you when you were finished with the first one.
“Feeling a little better?” James asked and you nodded your head.
“Hey James?” you said, unsure of how you’d gotten to this point, but you were too exhausted to stop yourself from saying it. “I want you to move back in.”
“You want me to do what?” he raised his brows and looked at you stunned.
“I want you to move back in with me and Julian,” you said. “It’s becoming pretty clear to me that it’s safer to have two people around when possible than not and you’re already around all the time now.”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked. “I mean you didn’t want to give Julian the wrong idea about us.”
“Our lives changed the second we got that diagnosis. I think we need to change along with everything else.”
You couldn’t believe that just barely twelve hours ago you were telling your friend there was no chance James had changed, but here you were saying things that had proved you had changed. Things you wouldn’t have dreamt of saying a year ago.
“Okay,” James nodded. “I’ll move back in.”
You just silently hoped you wouldn’t regret asking.
Waiting for Julian to get out of surgery was a little easier now that you had some food in your stomach and you decided to wait on coffee until you got the note from the surgeon that everything had gone well.
As James had continued to assure you almost a hundred times, the surgery went fine and before you knew it you were back in Julian’s room watching him sleep off the anaesthetic.
“You know he looks like you when he sleeps,” James said from the bench while you sat on the bed next to Julian.
“He does?”
“Yeah, his nose does that same scrunchy thing when he sniffles and when he snores-,”
“Hey, I only snore when I’m congested,” you said defensively.
“I never minded,” James smiled. “I thought it was cute when you sounded like an old man.”
“Yeah, but you’re not fond of all my old man characteristics,” you turned around to face him, still holding Julian’s hand in yours.
“All your old man characteristics?” James furrowed his brows in confusion.
“You told me I argued like an old man. Stubborn and could only see my own way. And I fought dirty.”
“You sure did,” James nodded. “If you brandishing my mother’s clear favouritism shows anything, it’s definitely that you fight dirty, but I never said I disliked that about you.”
“Really? Near the end I thought there was a lot you disliked about me.”
James shook his head, “No, I was just upset and you were passionate. It wasn’t like my other marriages where things just…fizzled.”
“We did go out with a bang,” you inhaled deeply.
“If it weren’t for Julian… do you think we’d…”
You shook your head.
“No, we probably never would have seen each other again. Another old man trait, I hold a pretty mean grudge.”
James pressed his lips together and looked over at his sleeping son.
“I’m happy we had him,” he said quietly. “Even if we didn’t work out.”
“Me too,” you agreed, looking over at Julian quietly snoring, just like his dad had said. “Best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
You leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Julian’s nose watching him scrunch it up, making you smile. It was a miracle that two such flawed individuals could make a child so perfect.
—
“Alright, he is asleep, but I do warn you it took some bribery so you’ll have to buy him another dinosaur book to read to him at night,” you walked out of Julian’s room, dusting your hands off like you’d just finished a heavy labour job.
“I’ll run to the bookstore tomorrow,” James nodded and you fell onto the couch next to him and sighing as you sunk into the plush fabric before noticing what he was doing.
“Where did you pull these out of?” you asked with a soft chuckle.
“I was just clearing up the closet in the guest bedroom and I found a box of these,” he picked up the albums. “Look at this one.”
He placed the book of photos on your lap and you smiled seeing as it was Julian’s baby album, filled with small mementos and little notes you and James had made in the margins.
“Oh my God, Mom’s first day home, she looks like an angel,” you read from the side. “And my response: I look like I just got hit by a bus, cut it out.”
“You can still read my chicken scratch writing?” James asked.
“My most useless talent as I like to call it,” you nodded. “You wrote a lot in here.”
“I used to bring it with me to work cause I missed you guys so much,” he admitted. “Made me feel closer to you.”
You read through some of the notes in the book, chuckling a little at some of the written back and forth you had. Eventually you got to the family portraits you’d had taken a few months after Julian was born, smiling softly to yourself.
You remembered the day well, you felt like you hadn’t slept in weeks, James was just getting off of a twelve-hour shift and you were almost late to your appointment with the photographer. You were worried everything was going to look terrible and you’d barely had enough time to do your hair or makeup, but James had silenced your worries with a kiss and assured you the pictures would be fine.
In the end most of them were terrible, but the photographer managed to get two shots, one of you and James smiling down at Julian in your arms and another immediately after where you were looking up and smiling at each other.
“That session was a shitshow,” you recalled and James agreed. “We did get a few nice things out of it though.”
You looked back down at the pile of albums in front of you and noticed a large white one, tucked under a few things and even though nothing good could come of it, you pulled it out from the bottom of the pile, carefully blowing off the dust and turning the first page.
Centerfold, just like you remembered it, was a picture of you and James on your wedding day. You leaned further back into the couch and James scooched in closer to get a look.
You both looked younger in the picture, with that spark of je ne sais quoi in your eyes.
“I told you there was a reason we got married,” he said quietly, his hand brushing the corner of the photo.
“Yeah, we loved each other,” you said. “That was the reason.”
“Same reason we decided to have Julian,” he added.
You could feel your breathing become a little more shallow and a tightness in your chest as James spoke about Julian. You remembered the conversations so clearly, like you’d had them yesterday, caught between happy and passionate kisses while James made some dirty jokes about getting you pregnant.
That was back when he still couldn’t get enough of you. Before things changed and he slowly distanced himself until it felt like it was just you and Julian against the rest of the world, and not the three of you like he had promised all those nights throughout your pregnancy.
You wondered quietly to yourself what had changed? What had become so unbearable that there was distance in the first place? There was never a lack of love on your end which is why this was dangerous.
At least when there was distance you could be angry with him, you could go to bed at night and not remember all the little things that made you love him in the first place. He wasn’t there as a constant reminder that you loved his cooking, or even just your banter together. More importantly, it was giving you new reasons to feel that fluttering feeling in your stomach.
You’d always loved how he’d interact with Julian, but now that you got to see it day in and day out, it made it harder to weigh that against the cons of everything. Most notably, this was the beginning of the end. If you let yourself fall you would both crash and Julian would be caught in the middle once again.
You tried to distract yourself by flipping through the album photos to find some funny old picture of a relative or maybe even an embarrassing moment to tone down whatever it was that looking at that picture was making you feel.
All you could focus on was how in every picture, almost without fail, James was looking over at you. Rarely into the camera along with everyone else. He was enamoured, that was the only word to describe it, and oh how much you missed that look.
You made the mistake of tearing away your gaze from the pictures, looking up at James instead, and for a moment you thought just maybe you saw that same look in his eyes. But no. It couldn’t have been. The dim light of the lamp must have been playing tricks on you.
Finally you closed the album and put it back down, unsure of what feelings might resurface if you opened another one. Your honeymoon, family dinners and pictures were all just reminders of the happy times, not what came after.
James did what you didn’t want to, grabbing another album and sifting through the pages until he found what he was looking for, taking a picture out of its protective sleeve and showing it to you.
“Can I keep this one?” he asked.
You took it from his hands, examining it while your fingers precariously held the edges of the photograph.
It was a silly picture, something you had taken while you were travelling. James got someone to take the camera, but along with snapping a few shots while you were posed with smiles they caught a few candids, most notably, James kissing your cheek while you laughed and tried to squirm out of his grasp.
Your finger gently brushed over the spot on the photo where James’ lips were against your cheek before nodding your head.
“Sure, you can have it,” you handed him back the picture and patted your hands against your legs, preparing to stand up. “I should get to bed.”
“I’ll be out here for a while longer if you need anything.”
You gave him a tight lipped smile and stood up, walking towards your bedroom. When you closed the door behind you, you let out a breath you had been holding and ran a hand across your face.
Maybe Julian was never the one at risk of getting the wrong idea.
—
Waking up in the middle of the night always made you feel uneasy. Especially if Julian was the one waking you up. The chance that you’d have to drive to the hospital or call an ambulance was high and you hated the fear and worry that came along with any possible complications.
Tonight, you woke up on your own accord. Your heart was beating inside your throat and your stomach felt like it was housing a group of persistent butterflies.
You glanced over at the clock and saw the time, flashing in red.
3:07
You took a deep breath trying to steady your heart rate and breathing before peeling away your blanket and kicking your feet over the side of the bed. You grabbed a different pair of pyjamas from your dresser and walked into the washroom, tossing them on the far end of the floor while you stripped down and turned on the water for the shower.
When you stepped inside you hissed initially at the cold, but forced yourself to become fully submerged under the water, closing the curtain behind you. Your muscles clenched as your body adjusted to the temperature, and when the time finally came you let your thoughts and dreams become washed away by the water coming out of the shower head.
You were simply standing there, letting the water fall on your face when you heard the click of the door opening.
“Julian, sweetie,” you sighed, turning around so you could speak. “Maybe you should go to your dad if something’s wrong, I’ll come out in a sec.”
“No need,” you heard a voice that did not belong to your son.
“James? I’m in the shower. What are you doing?” you asked incredulously, feeling the need to cover yourself up even though there was a curtain blocking his view. You felt exposed nonetheless.
“It’s three in the morning, I thought something was wrong, I came to check on you,” he explained.
“And what were you doing up?” you asked.
“Got in late. There was an emergency at the hospital after you guys went to sleep, I dealt with it and just came back.”
You stepped under the running water again, washing the water over your face with your hands.
“So, is everything okay?”
“Peachy,” you said sarcastically, leaning against the wall of the shower.
“Nobody ever says peachy when things are okay,” James pushed further and you sighed, moving to sit down on the floor of the shower, still positioned under the water.
“I just had a dream, that’s all,” you said, watching as the water hit your toes and the ground around you.
“A bad dream?” he asked.
“No, it was more like… déjà vu.”
James sighed, and rubbed his hands on his legs.
“Was it about us?”
He took your silence as a yes.
James didn’t really know what to say, his hands were clasped together as he leaned forward sitting on the bathroom counter.
“You’re not gonna ask what it’s about?” you hugged your knees close to your chest.
“Would you tell me?”
“Maybe…I don’t know,” you mumbled.
There was another moment of silence before James spoke up again,
“What was it about?”
You turned to face the water with your eyes closed again, gathering the courage to speak.
“It started when I told you I was pregnant,” you said softly. “Like the memory replayed in my head, exactly how it happened.”
“I remember that day,” you heard the soft smile in his voice as he spoke. “You took the test at work and when it came back positive you came straight to the hospital to tell me.”
“I was barely two steps inside your office when I blurted it out, you were eating lunch and had that stupid look on your face with a mouth full of sandwich,” you chuckled to yourself.
“I almost choked on that,” James shook his head. “And I just remember running up to you and freaking out.”
“And then when you were done freaking out and everything sunk in you kissed me, and you told me you loved me, and we cried because we made a child. Our love did that.”
You reached forward and turned the shower off, pushing yourself up on your feet and taking a deep breath before pulling back the curtain. You had told him what you were thinking. You couldn’t get any more exposed than that.
James looked stunned for a moment and it didn’t go unnoticed how his eyes raked up and down your figure.
“Get me the robe, would you?” you motioned to the back of the door and he jumped down grabbing the robe and holding it out for you so you could place your arms into the sleeves and wrap the towelled fabric around you, trying it off with the belt.
When you turned your head to look back at James, you could tell at least you’d succeeded in raising his heart rate, much like he was doing for you recently.
You moved to go sit on the closed toilet while James retook his spot on the counter.
“Do you remember when Julian was born?” he whispered.
“I like it was yesterday. I can’t believe it’s been eight years,” you nodded your head.
He was having trouble holding your gaze and you wondered what he was about to say.
“I-I screwed up,” his voice was soft, almost hurt, like it pained him to think about what he had done. “When you were resting afterwards the nurse asked me if we were going to do a newborn screening. We hadn’t talked about it, but you were so tired and it was such a hard labour…” he swallowed thickly, his voice wavering slightly, remembering the birth. It wasn’t easy by any means and James had often thought that the hardest thing he’d ever had to watch was you in that much pain. “I told her we weren’t going to do it. I just didn’t want Julian to leave and h-he looked so perfect I never thought anything could have been wrong with him.”
James took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, “I am a doctor and I didn’t get a newborn screening for my son, what the hell kind of father does that make me?”
“Oddly enough, I think it makes you a good one,” you admitted.
“Even though we could have known about this years before? We could have gotten him treatment, medication, therapies, all sooner?” he looked back at you confused.
“You said it yourself, Jamie. He was perfect for us. Still is.”
James nodded his head and looked forward at the opposite wall. You stood up and walked over towards him, reaching out a hand to gently hold his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek while he looked at you.
“I don’t blame you for this,” you whispered. “I don’t blame you and I don’t think you’re a bad father.”
“I know,” he murmured, “but I do.”
You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, not knowing what other comfort you could offer.
James leaned in a little to your touch, sitting up straighter when it was gone, trying to play it off like he hadn’t been missing it and craving it as much as you.
You were about to say something when you heard a knock on the washroom door, and this time it had to be Julian.
“Mom? Dad, are you in here too?” you could hear his small sounding voice, a little strained and worried so you quickly assured him you were both inside and opened the door.
“Sweetheart, what happened?” you asked, noticing his tear-stained face.
“I just had a bad dream,” he sniffed and wiped his eyes.
You kissed away his tears first before assuring him everything would be fine, you and James were there to take care of him.
“Why don’t you go and lay down on my bed with your Dad?” you suggested. “I’ll get dressed and come join you.”
Julian nodded and made his way over to your bed while you went to quickly speak to James.
“It’ll be good for you. Both of you,” you told him.
“You don’t mind?”
“Just this once.”
James thanked you with a kiss to your cheek and left the adjoining washroom, closing the door behind him and giving you a minute to get changed and deal with anything you needed to before going back to bed.
When you opened the door and came back into your room, you saw James under the covers with Julian pressed close to him, their foreheads resting together while James told him everything was going to be alright and he could go back to sleep.
You slipped in under the covers, sandwiching Julian between you both, letting his back rest against your chest while you pressed a kiss to his hair.
One hand was tucked under your pillow and another was draped over Julian, and your fingers carefully placed over top of James’.
“Will you be here when I wake up?” Julian asked his dad.
“Right next to you,” he kissed his nose. “Now try to get some sleep, okay?”
Julian nodded his head and yawned and you whispered a quiet goodnight to bed him and his dad before letting your eyes close, silently smiling when you could feel James’ hand finally hold your own.
—
“You guys, relax, he’s going to be fine,” Mahlet placed a hand on both yours and James’ shoulders while you spewed out your worries. “It’s one night, I have the whole list of things he needs and I’ve taken care of him before, right? It’s just at my house this time so the boys can have a sleepover and you two can have a bit of a break.”
“She’s right,” James sighed. “I’m still worried out of my mind, but she’s right.”
“Mahi, are you sure you don’t want us to come even for a little bit?” you asked.
“Absolutely, if something happens I’ll call an ambulance and then you, but Julian’s been good for months now, he can survive one night away from home,” she assured you.
“Thank you, Mahlet. I’m sure Julian and Hennock will have a great time tonight. Just call us when he’s ready to be picked up tomorrow morning,” James said.
James wrapped his arm around you, giving you a squeeze knowing you were still uneasy about this, but deep down you knew Mahlet was right. The chances of something going wrong at this point were small and you’d had enough time since your last hospital visit to even consider doing something like this.
“You boys ready?” James called and Julian came rushing out of the room with his bag in hand, Hennock following close behind him.
“You have fun tonight, okay?” you bent down and gave Julian a kiss. “And if anything happens or you feel sick, or are having trouble breathing, tell Mahlet, okay?”
“I know, Mom. Dad already told me this like fifteen times,” Julian chuckled.
You looked up at James and he shrugged.
“Alright, well you guys better go before I change my mind,” you crossed your arms over your chest and that was all the permission the boys needed to run off, leaving Mahlet to say goodbye before stepping out and closing the door behind her.
You sighed and turned around, looking at James who had his hands shoved into his pockets.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“I could eat,” you nodded your head.
“Why don’t we make something for dinner together?” he suggested.
You looked at the clock and smiled, “I think we’ve got enough time for pizza, what do you think?”
“I think that’s a great plan,” James agreed. “I can start on the dough and you get the sauce and toppings?”
You gave him a thumbs up before putting your hand out to high-five him, noticing how your fingers so easily intertwined before you walked apart and let go.
James rolled up his sleeves and took off his watch, placing it on the small jewelry tray you kept by the sink for when you were washing dishes, while you went to the fridge and began pulling out all the things that could make good pizza toppings.
Moving to the sink to wash some vegetables, you noticed James’ watch resting there. You didn’t pay much attention when he was wearing it, but now you realized why it looked extra familiar. It was one you had gotten him as an anniversary present after your first year married.
“You still wear that?” you pointed with your eyes to the watch.
“It’s my favourite watch, of course I wear it,” he nodded while portioning the flour into a large bowl.
“Even with that engraving?” you raised a questioning brow.
“Dearest Jamie, Here’s to the first of many happy anniversaries. Love forever, Your Wife,” he recited the engraving back to you.
“I don’t know why you do that to yourself,” you chuckled a little, looking down into the sink.
“Yeah, well why do you still go by Mrs. Wilson?”
“Easier to keep the name than change it again,” you partially lied, it wasn’t the full truth, but it was what you had been telling yourself ever since the divorce was finalized.
James could sense you were lying, but he knew the only way to get you to open up would be to let himself be open with you.
“The watch is my favourite because you gave it to me. Functionally it sucks and it's uncomfortable, but you went out of your way to get me something that looked nice and that’s why I love it.”
You smiled a little to yourself, but kept your head facing the sink and continued to wash the vegetables.
“You’re not going to say anything?” he inquired.
“Do I have to?” you asked.
“That’s normally how a conversation works,” he remarked and you chuckled.
“What do you want me to say?” you asked.
“Honestly, the real reason why you kept your married name,” he said plainly.
You sighed, “It wasn’t a full lie. If I went back to my maiden name Julian and I wouldn’t have the same last name it just makes things complicated and confusing and I didn’t want to deal with it, but,” you added, “I always kind of liked the sound of Mrs. Wilson and even though I was pissed at you all the time I still liked that there was one thing aside from Julian connecting us. I don’t know, maybe I didn’t want to end up like Sam or Bonnie just…detached, like there was barely a trace that you were even there.”
“It’s a fingerprint,” James said. “Mine.”
“Yeah, even though it's small for who we were to each other, it's the fingerprint you left on my life.”
James pressed his lips together and opened his mouth to say something before shutting it and evaluated how he was going to speak,
“Can I ask you something?” he settled on.
“Sure,” you nodded, moving over to the cutting board and placing yourself on the opposite side of the kitchen island.
“Did…Did you ever stop loving me?”
Your smile faltered and James noticed the change in your demeanor, quickly retracting his question.
“You know what, forget I asked,” he shook his head and continued to knead the dough.
There was a moment of silence before you spoke again.
“I didn’t, but I got tired of not being loved back.”
James stopped what he was doing and looked up at you with concern.
“You thought I stopped loving you?” he asked.
“James, I was wife number three. Didn’t take much to connect the dots and see you got tired of me,” you said bluntly. “I wanted to know if I could count on you, and it was starting to feel like maybe I couldn’t. Then the divorce happened and everything after that just made me feel like I was right.”
James chewed on the inside of his cheek and remained silent.
“You didn’t fight for me,” you said quietly. “You fought for joint custody, but you didn’t fight for me. You just…accepted it.”
“I…I didn’t know you wanted me to fight for you.”
“Are you saying you would have?” you asked, unsure of whether or not you wanted to hear his answer.
“I’m saying I thought I didn’t even have a chance,” he admitted.
“So you wouldn’t have,” you clarified for him, beginning to chop the toppings into pieces and separate them into bowls.
He chuckled humourlessly, “I have dated one person since the divorce. I hated it.”
“Why do you have to talk in puzzles, James? Why can’t you just come out and say what you really mean?”
“And then what?” he asked. “We go back to living in the same house. Sleep in separate rooms. Move on now that we know the truth?”
“Say it,” you put the knife down and looked him right in the eyes.
“What are you going to do about it?” he asked, cleaning the dough off his hand. “I’m going to say it and you’re just going to stand there and I have to live with that?”
You walked around the counter and came right up in front of him.
“If you were listening to anything I was saying, you would stop making excuses and say it.”
“Fine!” he threw his hands up in the air. “I still love you. I never stopped loving you. These past few months, even though stressful, have been the happiest I’ve been in so long because I feel like myself again when I’m with you and Julian. Because I feel like your husband, and I feel like a father and I keep kicking myself wondering how I could have been so stupid to lose that.”
“Say it one more time,” you whispered, lifting your hands to hold onto his face. “Please.”
“I love you,” his voice was softer, relieved like after being underwater he could finally breathe again.
You finally pulled him into you, your lips hesitantly resting on his at first, before you found your rhythm again after so long. It was muscle memory, his hands finding the spot they always rested against on your hips, his lips moving in synch with yours, eventually trailing off and finding their favourite spot against your jaw and behind your ear.
“James,” you breathed.
“Jamie,” he mumbled against your skin. “Call me Jamie.”
“Jamie, Jamie, Jamie,” you repeated the nickname until he silenced you with another kiss, muffling your voice.
“God, I missed you,” he whispered when you pulled apart, breathing heavily due to your fast beating heart.
You closed your eyes while your forehead rested against his, feeling his nose touch yours, his hands still firmly planted on your hips when your thumbs brushed against his cheeks.
“Jamie?”
James snuck another small kiss at the sound of the nickname.
“Yes, my love.”
“Can I count on you?”
You could feel him nod his head and confirm with a verbal ‘yes’. And even if it turned out to be a lie, at that moment you didn’t care. He had proved to you that it was possible, you could work with that.
“I love you,” you said and kissed his nose and then you said it and kissed him again for good measure. “You told me twice; I tell you twice.”
James moved his hands up from your hips and brushed the back of his fingers against your cheek, a warm smile coming to his face.
And there was that look, the one you thought had vanished over time. His eyes fully transfixed on you with nothing but love and admiration. It didn’t take much to convince yourself you could get used to seeing that look for a long, long time.
TAGLIST —
@cuntyvicodin @paola-carter
#james wilson#james wilson x reader#james wilson x you#dr wilson#dr wilson x reader#dr wilson x you#house md#house md fanfiction#house md x reader#hate crimes md#james wilson fanfiction#james wilson fanfic#james wilson fic
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L&DS Boys: Pool Day | Fluff
Ngl I wrote this in less than an hour and a half. Been chilling in the pool a lot these days and needed to write something for it. Now I want y'all to make sure and read Zayne's part and pay special attention to it, okay? Listen to what he says. I'm serious guys, listen to Zayne.
♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Warnings: N/A ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Pairings: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader
Blog Information | Masterlist
Xavier
The cool water lapped at your skin as you sank your entire body into it. A sigh of relief escaped you as you instantly felt better. The summer had just started and already it had been record high temperatures. Thankfully your apartment complex had a nice pool, and since it was one of your rare days off you took advantage, silently thanking the world that your apartment had mainly elderly and hunters so today nobody else was at the pool.
To make matters even better, you managed to drag your sleepy neighbor out with you. You had promised him pool snacks and the new lounge floats you had gotten. Unlike the inflatable ones, these were fabric of sorts and you just knew they’d feel absolutely amazing the moment you two got into the pool.
“Are you ready?” Xavier asked, placing a hand on the small of your back. You let out a small yelp, not used to him being able to touch your skin so easily like this. You looked over at Xavier in his own swim clothes, almost wanting to blush. Of course this man would be the one who chose a speedo over something else.
Still, you began climbing up onto one of the two floats you had. Your body dipped into the water below you and kept you cool and you let out a content sigh. You watched Xavier follow suit, getting comfortable. The lounge float was just as comfortable as you had come to expect and you were living for it.
You put on your sunglasses as you relaxed and turned to Xavier, “Hey Xav?” You called out, making the blonde man hum next to you, “If I fall asleep, you have to promise to wake me up.” You said, knowing you were playing a risky game at the moment.
“Only if you promise to wake me as well.” Xavier said and you could hear the small yawn he let out. You rolled over to your stomach and realized this position was even better.
“Xavier, if I fall asleep and you fall asleep then we’re screwed. Someone needs to be responsible.” You comment with a light chuckle. You watched Xavier paddle his float over to you. He hooked his leg over part of your float and grabbed your hand, making it rest on his own.
“If we stick together like this and keep talking, then we have a better chance at staying awake.” He noted. Well he certainly was right, and being this close to Xavier was certainly a treat. You could ogle the plains and valleys of his well sculpted body perfectly like this.
Sadly it seemed you two forgot one very important fact…how you two always managed to pass out during naps while talking. You don’t even know when you fell asleep, or how long you were passed out. All you know is when you woke up you looked at Xavier. His pale skin was currently a bright red as he laid on his back, sunglasses on and you knew you were screwed.
You didn’t even need to see your back to know you were burned. Your skin felt hot and uncomfortable and if you could see it you’d notice just how angry it looked. You went to poke Xavier, flinching to yourself when you saw the spot on his cheek you poked turn white then back to red.
Xavier groaned as he opened his eyes and turned to look at you. Even with his sleepy vision he could see your current condition. He let out a gasp, going to sit up and forgetting he was on a float as he crashed into the water below him.
You couldn’t help but laugh as he came up, shaking some water from his hair. Without his sunglasses you could see the sunburn went around his eyes, “Xavier…we fucked up.” You said after a moment.
“I can…see that.” He said, looking over your back then down to his chest, “We should head indoors.” He said, going to grab your hand gently. You got off of your float and Xavier grabbed both of them in one arm while still holding your hand. You followed him to his apartment and you noticed how he had a serious look on his face as he forced you through the corridors of the complex. Your complaints about leaving a wet trail from the floats and your body went unheard.
You had to admit the moment you got into his cool apartment you felt a bit better. Xavier finally let go of your hand and dragged the floats to his bathroom, probably to let them dry in the shower. “Sit down on the couch, but be careful.” Xavier said, his calm voice echoing through the apartment.
You had no idea what had gotten into him, but you did just as instructed. You winced as you sat down, your sunburned ass stinging with the smallest movements. When Xavier came back, he was holding a large tub of something.
“Lay on your stomach.” He said and you were still confused as you did just that. He walked behind you and soon you let out a long, drawn out groan of relief. The item in his hand was a cream or sorts and was cool. It soothed your irritated skin as he gently began massaging it into your skin.
“What’s that…?” You groaned, knowing it was familiar but you were still tired from your nap and couldn’t think properly.
“It’s some aloe. I had some just in case.” He said, his small laugh was like music to your ears, “I apologize, you’re burned because I couldn’t keep my promise.”
You hummed and looked back at him as he began working the aloe into the back of your thighs, “We both failed, Xavier. Maybe if you kiss it better it’ll heal for me.” You joked. You hadn’t expected Xavier’s cool lips to press on your burned shoulders. It did feel nice as you melted into it, his lips trailing gentle kisses over the worst burns. He then continued to put the aloe over all those areas as well.
“You’re probably more burned than I am anyways. Did you even use sunscreen?” You comment after a few moments of silence. You had made sure to put some on before heading to the pool, but after hours of the sun even the sunblock wouldn’t be able to keep up without being reapplied liberally.
“I’ll be fine, I just need a nap.” He said, his large hands finishing their massage on all the pieces of skin you were burned. You slowly sat up, but Xavier went to push you back down, “And so do you. But first you need water.” He commented.
You smiled over at him and grabbed hold of his hand as he tried leaving, “Not so fast. We need to take care of your burns.” This time he didn't stop you as you sat back up. You saw the jar next to you and looked back at him. “Lay on your back, I’ll put some aloe on you.”
“That’s not necessary.” Xavier tried to protest with a pout, but you weren't having it.
“Xavie baby.” You said, calling him a nickname that always got him to blush, “Let me take care of you. Come on.” You said, motioning for him to do as you said. He let out a sigh and finally laid down.
You smiled, looking down at him as you covered your hands in the green goop. Today might’ve had a few failures, but being able to rub down Xavier’s body was almost a reward in itself. You then saw Xavier look off to the side then back to you.
“Perhaps if you kiss it better it’ll help them heal faster.” He said, using your words against you. You chuckled as you leaned down, kissing his cheeks before he grabbed your face. You were confused as he brought you in for a proper kiss.
“It hurts the most here.” He said after parting, running his thumb over his own lip. You chuckled, pressing another kiss there.
“Then it looks like I’ll have you pay extra attention to it.” You said, then kissed him again. Perhaps the sunburns weren’t that bad if this was the aftermath.
Zayne
Why Zayne never used the pool at his luxury apartments was beyond you. There were never any children running around, and oftentimes during the weekdays people were at work and couldn’t relax over there. That meant on your days off, it was just the two of you and a very nice and well kept pool. Yet whenever you brought it up, he would always say if you wanted to go he would, but he’s not planning on going by himself anytime soon.
So as soon as summer hit and the heatwave was at an alltime high already, you were dragging Zayne towards the elevator to head down to the pool. Your excitement was evident as Zayne adjusted the pool bag he had prepared. It was a large side bag and you were certain he kept a little bit of everything in there.
When the elevator hit the bottom level, you grabbed hold of his hand and began literally dragging him, “Come now, the pool won’t be going anywhere.” Zayne tried to assure you, but you weren't having none of that.
“The pool might remain, but every second spent dawdling is a second wasted.” You comment, “Time leaves us constantly so we need to catch up.”
He sighed and shook his head. As soon as you left the air conditioned building it was already sweltering hot. You could almost feel sweat clinging to your skin as you made your way to one of the pool chairs. Zayne had already opened the umbrella and laid towels down for the two of you.
Meanwhile you stripped off your pool cover and were about to run straight into the water. As soon as Zayne noticed your movements, he thought fast. Two large hands cupped under your armpits as he brought you up like a naughty cat trying to sneak off. You laid limp in his grasp as you processed what happened.
You slowly turned to him with a pout, “Zayne, what the ever loving fuck?”
“Eloquent with your speech as usual.” He teased as he went to set you down under the umbrella covered chair, “Aren’t you forgetting an important step?” He asked and you sighed with an eye roll.
“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ as you looked away from the man.
“Perhaps I should remind you that sunscreen is necessary. I agreed to come to the pool if you made an effort to protect your skin.” He said and you groaned, “I’m sure you’re aware that a light skin tone only has a natural 4-5 spf, while skin with higher melanin has the max of 13.5 spf. That means no matter your skin tone, you still need to protect your skin.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, “Oh please keep talking about medical things with me, Zayne.” You joked and he shook his head.
“Your skin is the largest and one of the most important organs of your body, please treat it with the respect it deserves.” He said, grabbing the sunblock he had brought with him, “Now come here, I’ll help you apply it.”
“I can do it myself.” You protested, but he was already putting some of the cream into his hands. He looked up at you from his prescription sunglasses.
“I’m sure you could.” He said, “However I need to make sure you're covered properly and with enough product it’ll do its job.” He explained with an almost smile on his face. You rolled your eyes before opening your arms up so he could properly get you covered.
You glanced at the bottle and almost choked on your spit, “SPF 100? Isn’t that overkill?” You asked with an incredulous expression.
“Not at all, however we will need to reapply it after about an hour and a half since we’ll be swimming. I’ll make sure to set a timer.” He said and you once again groaned…that was until his hands were on you.
He had purposefully cooled his own hands as he began massaging the product into your arms, chest, stomach, and legs. His hands glided over your body respectfully as he made sure you were properly covered, eventually having you turn around so he could apply it to your back. You jumped when his frigid hands pressed on the back of your neck.
“H-Hey!” You whined and he just chuckled.
“My apologies, I’m just being thorough.” He explained as he worked on your back now. Once your body was covered you turned back to face him. You hadn’t expected his large hands to cup your face as he smeared some of the sunscreen there. Your hands went to wrap around his wrists as you tried backing away, but his grip was firm, “Stop fighting, unless you want a sunburned nose.” He scolded.
You finally huffed and relaxed into his touch. You were startled when he left your face, only to come back and press something over your lips. You opened your eyes and noticed he had a lip balm, one that also had some spf in it. You smacked your lips, noticing how it tasted sweet.
“Better?” He asked and you nodded.
“Yes, but.” You said and he hummed. You tugged him over to you, placing a kiss on his lips. He didn’t fight it, leaning in as your lips met his in a short and cute kiss. “You needed some chapstick too…”
“I appreciate you helping me put it on.” He said with an amused huff.
“Can I swim now?” You suddenly asked after buttering him up; already you were getting up. He gripped your waist and dragged you back down.
“Wait twenty minutes after applying sunblock before being exposed to the UV rays.” He said and now you just knew he hated you. You looked at him with pouty eyes and he just smiled at you, “Would you like to help me apply sunblock to help pass the time?”
Now you perked up at that offer, your hands already twitching as you nodded your head. He took off his own cover up and exposed his chest and you had to fight the urge to lick your lips at the sight. How he managed to be in shape while overworking himself was a mystery, but damn were you grateful for it.
You put some sunblock into your hands, running them over Zayne’s chest first and oh my goodness how were you going to be able to survive this. You could feel every single muscle of his as you massaged it in, looking up at him from time to time as you tried to remain focused.
Your heart was beating out of your chest as you realized how much you wished you weren’t out in public right now so you could squeeze his chest. You remained professional though and applied the sunblock liberally, and were almost disappointed when it all ended. Still, you both were now covered and you looked over at Zayne’s phone. He had already set a time and it said you had fifteen minutes before you could jump into the pool.
“Zayne, do we have to be a stickler for sunblock rules?” You asked after another five minutes. He looked over at you curiously.
“Are you asking me as your boyfriend, or as your doctor?” He asked and you huffed, rolling on your stomach on the towel.
“I hope you know imma spend the next hour and a half in that pool and I’m dragging you in there the entire time.” You said and he chuckled as he went to his bag and grabbed two drinks. There were two cans of milk tea and when he handed one to you, you noticed how cold it was. You sighed and opened it up, taking a sip, “But I guess this isn’t too bad.” You comment looking at the water.
“My top priority is your safety, however perhaps we can break a few rules. I’ll let you get in five minutes early.” Zayne said, clicking on his phone’s timer. You looked over and noticed you had six minutes left. Your eyes widened as you realized what he said.
You handed him your drink and as soon as the timer had a ‘five’ on it, you were running into the water.
Rafayel
“Fuck you, pufferfish.” You said, shoving the purple haired man out of the way, “I’m getting in first!” You cried out, your feet hitting the hot cement outside of his personal pool. The man in question was right behind you as he went and grabbed hold of you.
His grip on your wrist had you dragging behind him, “Tough luck, pearl, but the pool is mine.” He said, gaining the lead in his mad dash to the water.
This all started when you had been lounging at Rafayel’s home, realizing just how hot it was. His air conditioner was working, sure, but it was still balmy since you were right by the beach. Sweat clung uncomfortably to your skin as you had glanced over at the artist.
“Rafayel, it’s too humid.” You complained and Rafayel looked over at you. You could see the sweat dripping down his neck so clearly he was in a similar situation as you. He seemed to think something over quickly and then smiled.
“Perhaps I could take a break.” He mused, “I do have a pool out there. That should help with the current situation.” He said and you hummed. The thought of spending the day in a private pool was so nice. You had swam in his pool before, it had a tanning ledge, a hot tub with a small waterfall that bled into the pool, and several pool lounges. He had everything you could ask for really, which was to be expected.
“Let’s do it. I’ll grab some drinks.” You said, hopping off the couch and running to the kitchen. Rafayel called out for you, but you didn't hear him as you raced to his fridge. An assortment of soda and juices were stocked thanks to your insistence he have other things than just coffee and water.
You went for the apple juice, deciding it would be refreshing enough for a day like this. Rafayel had some tumblers that would keep it ice cold while you were outside. As you stood back up you bumped into Rafayel’s chest. You spun to look at him in surprise, “Uh need something?” You murmured.
“I asked if you had a swimsuit.” He chuckled and you realized that you didn’t have one at his place. You groaned and looked at him with a pouty face.
“No…” You mumbled and he shook his head.
“That’s fine, I bought you a few just in case. I’ll grab them for you.” Well isn't he being nice and accommodating. Something was up. Your eyes narrowed as you followed him. He went to his closet and that’s when you discovered the swimsuit line up he had.
They were either very promiscuous, or downright ridiculous. He looked between you and the suits and you groaned. You grabbed a pair with rubber ducks decorating it and looked at him, “You sir, are an asshole.” You said, heading to his bathroom.
“I did nothing wrong.” He said, a hand over his heart as you closed the door and quickly got changed. When you came out you choked on your spit. Standing in front of you was Rafayel, with a matching swimsuit.
“I fucking hate you.” You laughed, realizing now why he had gone through the trouble of getting these swimsuits. It was so you guys could match at his pool, “Wait, so if I had gone for the revealing one…?” You trailed off.
“It’s too late for that now, pearl.” He teased, “But I’ll have you know they make very flashy male swimsuits nowadays, in several different styles.” So the ones he showed you…damn you regret your decision. Still, seeing him in something ridiculous like that was enough to make you less bitter.
“Fine, whatever, let’s just get to the pool.” You said, walking out with Rafayel following you, then you said the most childish thing of the day, “Last one in's a rotten egg!” You then began booking it.
You forgot that the two of you combined was a bad case of competitiveness. It led you to the now, where you both were playing dirty to get into the cool pool. You were screaming at one another, attempting to trip or thwart the other.
As soon as you were at the edge, Rafayel yanked you back. You hooked your ankle around his to hold him in place. However this caught both of you off balance. Next thing you knew, the cool water was enveloping the two of you. You looked at Rafayel under the water with wide eyes as you two realized what had happened.
You broke through the water and began laughing immediately. Rafayel soon emerged as well, grabbing onto your shoulders and pouting, “You dropped me into the water.” He whined and you were still laughing.
“I dropped us into the water.” You corrected him. He couldn’t help the smile on his face at the confession.
“Ya, I guess you did.” He huffed before using his weight to push you down. You could hear his voice clearly despite being under water, “But that doesn’t mean I can let you go without punishment, my dear bodyguard.”
You went to scream but you knew your lungs would fill up. Rafayel then dunked his head under the water and swam closer to you. He took his hands over your eyes, covering them and you felt a soft peck on your lips.
Suddenly you could breathe underwater and you chuckled at his antics. He took his hands away as he looked at you with eyes swimming with mischief.
“You’re the absolute worst, fish.” You said, dragging him closer to you. You pressed another kiss on his lips, and you loved how red his cheeks and ears got.
“How am I the worst? You’re supposed to protect me, yet you let me fall in the water.” He complained, but his arms were wrapping around you as he said so. His nose nuzzled against your own as he held onto you.
“Oh how cruel of me to put the fish back into water. I’m just the worst.” You said with a sigh, “Now come on, I want to soak in the sunshine.” You began tugging him to the surface of the water. Despite his pouting, he allowed you to drag him up.
You went over to the tanning ledge, laying on your stomach and relaxed. “Need sunglasses?” Rafayel said, swimming next to you and splashing you with the water.
“Do you have some?” You asked and he shrugged before his eyes furrowed.
“Hey…how are your feet?” He asked and you looked confused. You sat up and looked to see if you had managed to get a cut on your foot at some point. You didn’t see anything as you turned back to him.
“They’re fine…why?” You asked.
“Good…think you could run and get us sunglasses then? They should be near the front.” He said with a smirk, knowing he got you.
This time you would admit, you did push him into the water…well more like kicked him. He was the one asking for it though as he let out a shrill scream before the large splash of water filled your ears. You regretted nothing.
Did y'all hear what Zayne said? Apply sunblock 20 minutes before being exposed to UV rays, no matter what skin color you got. Reapply every 1 - 2 hours as well if you're going to be swimming or sweating a lot (or as directed by the bottle). Your skin is a large and important organ of your body so take care of it you guys!
#loveanddeepspace#love and deepspace#Zayne Love and Deepspace#Xavier Love and Deepspace#Rafayel Love and Deepspace#Lnds#Lnds Rafayel#Lnds Zayne#Lnds Xavier#lnds x reader#x reader#reader insert#rafayel x reader#xavier x reader#zayne x reader#l&ds#l&ds rafayel#l&ds zayne#l&ds xavier#l&ds rafayel x reader#l&ds xavier x reader#l&ds zayne x reader#lads x reader#lads rafayel#lads rafayel x reader#lads xavier#lads xavier x reader#lads zayne#lads zayne x reader
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C..can i be Anon 🍷? Also i have a lil request, chuuya overstim + edging if u can 🙏🙏
Ofc bro! Welcome to my annon fam! (I did add you to the annon fam thingy on my pinned post earlier hehe) But look:
Same same. So here's the fic.
Also... Who wants a Loki x reader fanfic? Cuz I was watching Thor: Ragnarok yesterday and I have a scenario in my head that I can't get out. Lemme know if y'all want it!
(Read the Loki fic here)
Contents: Edging and overstimming Chuuya
Warnings: Smut, top male reader, biting, mentions of nipple play, edging, dacryphillia, overstimulation, rough sex with gentle after care.
Fuck, Chuuya couldn't take it anymore.
You'd been at it for hours, for fuck's sake. You kept fucking him, over and over and over again, and not removing your hand from the base of his cock, not letting him come.
And even now, holding the back of knees and pushing his legs further apart, you kept going.
Chuuya, his face stained with tears and throat already hoarse, couldn't even think anymore. He just pushed his face into the crook of your neck, sobbing and begging senselessly for the release that you were holding away from him.
"Please, please, please, please, [Name], please..." It became his mantra, begging you so pathetically, even though he could barely form words with that brain of his turned to mush.
"You wanna cum, Chuuya?" You said, teeth gritted against the feeling of him clenching around you so hard it was getting hard to thrust in and out. "You wanna cum so bad?"
He nodded furiously, sweat-soaked hair sticking to his forehead, eyes puffy and red from all that crying. His entire body was covered in hickeys that you'd left him, and his nipples were still swollen and erect.
"Hmm... Should I let you?" You muttered, slamming your hips into his with such brute force that his head hit the headboard.
Chuuya cried out, fingers gripping your shoulders so hard that his nails had long sunk into your skin.
"Go on then," You took pity, finally, finally, and let go of his dick, placing your hands on either side of his head instead to support your weight.
He came from the third thrust, his body jerking and spasming under you as ropes of come shot out of his dick, painting both your abdomens white. He fell back against the bed, arms falling limply on either side as he huffed and panted, bruised chest heaving.
But fuck, you weren't done with him yet.
And by the time Chuuya realised that, he was already crying again from the overstimulation, feeling your dick continue to rearrange his insides, hitting all the spots that were even more sensitive and sore now. He whined, thighs trembling as you wrapped them around your waist before thrusting in again.
A couple rounds of sex later, everything beneath Chuuya's waist was so numb he couldn't hold himself up on his legs for the life of him. You'd ripped orgasm after orgasm from him, up untill he was shooting blanks. You didn't look like you were stopping anytime soon, but Chuuya felt like he would pass out if this went on anymore.
"[Name]," He said, voice hoarse from all the abuse. "[Name], I can't... I can't go on anymore..."
It was too much.
You could tell from his blown out pupils and the way his soft dick faced down that he was right for once. He genuinely couldn't take anymore. So you pulled out, jerking yourself off till you came over Chuuya's already cum-stained thighs, and then lay down beside him.
He was a mess. You took him to the bathroom to clean up, and he fell asleep in your arms inside the bathtub, letting you wash the bodily fluids off of him.
You knew you'd been tougher than usual on him today, so you didn't say anything, cleaning him up gently and pressing chaste kisses into his temple even though he was asleep. After drying him off, you took him to your room and tucked him in in the clean sheets.
"I'll go clean up your room, too, okay baby?" You pressed another soft kiss against Chuuya's forehead, watching him sleep peacefully.
#dom male reader#top male reader#dom reader#bungou stray dogs#sub bsd#sub bsd x you#bsd x you#sub bungou stray dog x you#sub bungou stray dogs#sub character#sub character x you#sub chuuya x you#sub chuuya
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Hi! First off, I love your work. I just love the way how you write. Secondly, would you do an Alessia Russo fic? I’m thinking maybe just cute lessi constantly wanting cuddles with reader. Obviously, there’s no rush and absolutely no demand for this :)
Cuddles and Bubbles // Alessia russo
Notes: hi first of all thank you so much for enjoying my writing and requesting this fic hope you like this.
© PINKYQIL
Alessia was someone who was very affectionate and a clingy person in general. so today was no different to you.
You both we're still in bed,less had her long arm's and legs wrapped around your whole body. as if you we're about to be taken away from her.
You tired pulling away which obviously didn't work as she pulled you closer making it impossible for you now.
"Less baby get up". you tried shaking her up which was useless
"My love please let go of my waist".
"No". she mumbled.
"Less come on we got to get up". You tried convincing her.
"Don't we have the whole day off why do we have to get up early". She groaned.
"So you don't wanna take a bath with me and cuddle and after we wacht a flim and order some food". You told her.
"Shower together let's go then". She said grabbing you're hand and leading you to your shared bathroom.
"Is taking a shower the only thing you heard me say". You asked her
"Nope but it the thing I wanna do with you".
"Sure".you noged her.
You and lessi both got into the lukewarm water, you grabbed the spong and started to scrubs all over her body and yours. Having some fun in the bath until you felt lessi huge hand grab you.
"Alessia if you don't get your grabby hands away from my boobs". you yelled at her after the sudden action.
"But there squishy and I like them".
"Whatever you say".
A few minutes later she tried doing it again until you slapped her hands away.
you both got out changed into machting pjs that you brought weeks ago that the team made fun of but could careless.
You decide to make some pasta and meatballs as they we're alessia favorites.
"Smells good baby".
"Thanks my love Wanna taste the sauce for me?".
"Yep". she said popping the p
Before you knew it she grabbed you by your waist and kissed your lips.
"I said sauce not my lips but I'm not complaining". You told her
"Of course you wouldn't".
The rest of the day was spent with alessia clinged to you in bed where you both enjoyed a series of movies you both enjoyed.she was your clingy bear and you loved that about her.
A/n: hope you enjoyed this and thank you for enjoying my writing again hope y'all have a great day.
#alessia russo#alessia russo x reader#alessia russo imagine#alessia russo x y/n#arsenal x reader#arsenal wfc#arsenal imagine#lionesses x reader#lionesses#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso fic#woso oneshot#woso blurbs#woso fluff#woso imagines#woso one shot#woso#woso community#engwnt x reader#engwnt#arsenal wfc x reader#awfc x reader#awfc imagine#arsenal wfc imagine#pinkyqilfic
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Marine Centre 10- merformers Au SMUT
Bluestreak for y'all cause he's the lucky Mer who gets to hit it first.
This was originally 8k words and I got it down to 4k very happy and I hope you all enjoy the first smut for this fic.
Word count: 4k
Warnings: smut, interspecies sex, mating, oral, sex knotting. Language barrier.
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The soft whistles from Angelfish had been following them for a while as they continued picking up rubbish on the beach. Dale, Quin and the new hires were out doing water testing and they had said they were going to stay back.
The grey blue oceanide wades in the water chirping and calling out to them as he flings rubbish on the sand for them to pick up. He circles around rocks but comes back to the shallow water barely skimming across the sand to be close.
They take the trash he throws, adding it to the bag even as he wobbles at them. "Angelfish no, not playing today, i'll go swimming in the reef later" they call back to him only paying mild attention. Their thoughts were off in the ocean, they hoped Big blue was alright he had been very scares since his ‘accident��� while Angelfish had become rather vocal and been pursuing them.
They yelp as he launches from the water to grab them pulling them into the shallow water with a loud thrill of triumph. "Angel Stop!" They yell struggling against his hold as he pulls them close. Their eyes look up to meet with the big pools of blue against black as he chirps and huffs out a little melody. “Ooeeeeneeooaee” comes from the Oceanide as he caws excitedly as his gambit succeeds.
But at their cry, he recoils in distress, fins drooping in dismay. "Ooeeaeeouueeaa!" he, chirruping anxiously it sounds almost pitiful as he hands cup their face. Another collection of whistles and whines leave him as he looks at them pleadingly
Feebly he trills another song, bumping his crest against their forehead. “Oeeaeeiaiaeeaeeeeeeoeeee." They squirm in his arms before finally settling when. "Angel please don't, I'm not one of your people, big blue understands and is staying away for a reason" they mumble.
"N..o o..o Bl..ue goo, I be wih ow." The words are crash, harsh even compared to his sweet little songs. But they understand enough of it to see what he's trying to state. He nuzzles their face pleadingly, eyes wide and bright.
" I fign.., fe..ed s..ae" he uses his clawed hands as he talks. “Angel Stop, you will hurt your throat” they try to plead for him to settle down. His fins flutters and flare as he gazes upon them. "B…e mm te?"
There is a long silence between them as they just stare at him in shock. "Angel... I can't, I'm not one of you, there are plenty of others of your kind" they explain only for him to pull them closer fins and frills flared in display head moving as if trying to showcase the colours that flare in the scales.
When they don't react to the little dance he huffs softly wet webbed hands cupping their face as he presses his lips to their in a messy and uncoordinated kiss. They gasp as he kisses them, it's out of the blue and such a human gesture, they lean into it softly, in truth it was a terrible kiss, he tasted of fish, seaweed and Salt. But his enthusiasm surprised them.
A pleading keen erupts from his vocals as he holds them close. "Aeeeeaeeuueeuueeeeaoaaooeeaouuaaeeouuooeeieeeeieeeeaaeeeeeeieeoaeeoaee." Angelfish trills eagerly at their softening, nuzzling into their hands with desperate affection. They look up to his eyes as his webbed hands cup their face tenderly. "I can get in trouble, the others I work with don't know you are this sentient, I will get in alot of trouble" they try to argue. But his soft little calls are making it hard to say no to him along with his big almost seal eyes.
He warbles in confusion, gathering their small form close in an embrace, "Oh angel..." they lean into his body resting their head against his shoulder as they hold him. The mer slowly drifts back while holding them. The afternoon light bounces off the waves of the surf as he just cradles them against his frame. He warbles softly, nuzzling their head with his own. Another little melody leaving him as they drift in the waves together.
"You want to sing for me?" They question. Not really understanding the meaning of his little songs but they sound much sweeter than him trying to mimic and use their words. Angelfish trills happily, brightening at their request. Carefully he carries them through the water.
They sit up on him watching how he navigates so swiftly on his back, the small saltwater and freshwater river were the last place they expected him to take them but in truth it was still beautiful. They watch as kingfishers and sea birds perch in the trees. Crabs scurry through sandy mud to find hiding places as the large predator leaserly swims with them sat atop of him.
It's a sheltered cove not the same as connected to the lagoons there's grassy little banks and it almost reminds them of fresh water swimming holes, with large rocks and little waterfalls that lead down into the mouth of the river where grass meets water. It's rather secluded despite how pretty it was.
Gently he settles them amidst the soft grass of the creek's lip, eyes bright and hopeful. His fins flutter showing off colours in display as a melody rises from his chest. Their eyes never leave him as he sings, a cascade of tones and harmonics flowing from his frame in waves.
It is so alike yet different from the songs of Whales and dolphins. As he spins around in the water, seeming to almost dance and he sings. Their legs rest in the water, his body brushing against them every twist and turn he makes in his dance. When its echoes fade, he nuzzles their face pressing himself close to them. the oceanide chitters and warbles happily at them. “ liked?”
His body slowly sinks down as he rests his head on their lap, nuzzling their legs nestled in the tide, fins fluttering softly as their hand comes to brush across them. " mate?" His eyes blaze with longing hope as he looks up at them.
They take a deep sigh before looking at him. "I don't know what to do even if I was too…" they mumble, trailing off. Were they really going to do this?. The oceanides are A completely different species, yes they could talk, and this one was rather eager for their permission. But this was still illegal, they were Sea life, animals. But as they look at Angelfish waiting patiently for their answer.
They were both consenting adults and he was the one trying to propersiton them, but the consequences of others finding out still weighed heavily. They snap out of their thoughts as clawed fingers to move to their clothing, Tugging and pulling trying to indicate what he wanted. He chirrups eagerly at them, his flared fins and frills shimmering as he still tries to impress them.
Fuck it.
Their hands move to the buttons of their shirt helping show him how to remove it. His eyes widen as webbed hands move across their exposed skin. They gasp as his cold webbed hands trace over their body. awe cross his face as he chirps at them. His claws trace aimless patterns, committing each new texture to memory.
A shaky croon erupts from his throat as he gently guilds their hands to his own body. The two tracing patterns and looking over each other's bodies as they try to figure out just how this was going to work.
Their eyes snapping down to him as he flicks his tongue out to run across their stomach before he dips down further. A loud gasp escapes them as he tilts their body back giving himself across to taste what he truly wants, a loud moan leaves them as he plunges his tongue deeper a loud rumble leaves him as he pulls them closer.
Their hands grip his head, guiding him and trying their hardest not to pull or damage his pretty frills. their hips rock into his mouth as he laps at them, hsi sharp teeth make them shutter as goosebumps flush across their skin.
The grey blue oceanide chirps eagerly at their sounds, Gently he urges closer, fins fluttering, and when they feel his teeth retract it leaves them stunned. ‘They have retractable teeth’ the muse over as he continued to drag his tongue over their sensitive skin. It makes them keen and arch into the touch.
Their back arches into the grass as Angelfish spreads their thighs wider, Gently he nuzzles his way back up their body. He gently pecks their face and neck, another small collection of thrills leaves him. Their gaze meets, as he rests himself above them. Claws digging into the grass as he looks down at them head tilted to the side.
They tense up and freeze slightly as he rolls his body against them, his clappers move against their own sex. But when they spread their head shoots down, chin rested on their chest as they watched his slit open. his penis emerges slowly, it's smooth a lighter blue than the rest of his grey blue body.
Their eyes widen as more of it slinks out of the slit. “Holy shit, holy shit” they gasp as the mer grinds against them. He chirps again softly checking over them again. “God I can't believe I'm doing this” they state In a hushed voice.
The Oceanide moves them around slightly, finding his preferred position, one webbed claw holds their hips as he moves closer, the head brushes against their entrance making them tense up. Angelfish coos at them softly as he presses against them again they tip slowly breaching.
They whimper loudly, as he presses deeper, it's a rather smooth glide due to the texture. It doesn't hurt nearly as much as they were expecting it too. A loud purr leaves Angelfish as he slowly rocks into them trills happily,
his back fins flutter wildly as he grinds himself deeper trying to press as far into them as he physically could. They clench at the feeling only to gasp and let their head fall back into the grass. They move slightly trying to find a more comfortable position, one leg hooking over his back.
Soft chitters of appreciation escape him, once happy Angelfish begins to rock back and forth, it's slow, sticky as he pulls his length out partially before slamming it back into them. Loud moans leave them as they grip onto him, fingers digging into his back as they cling onto him with each thrust.
Angelfish let out a loud whine, his body instinctively grinding back against theirs, his tail flicking each time he hilted in them, thrills of delight rattle down his spinal fins. Each thrust feels like they are gasping for air as he drives his spike deeper. The feeling of his scales are strange as he manoeuvres them but in truth they feel sinfully good against their skin.
"Ne…ed yo... waa,t..." his voice sounds so broken yet filled with desire and longing, his words broken as he tries to utter their words again. They dig their heel into the back of the grey blue mer. Eagerly clenching around him.
They cry out as Mers penis flares, a large knot locking them in place at the base as gush of seamen spilling into their smaller frame. Angelfish’s fins and frills extend in display as he thrills loudly, rutting quickly with each spurt that leaves his knotted length. It's uncomfortable after the first few spills, his load leaking out the sides of where they are joined.
They try moving around to become more comfortable but it only makes them whine at how full they are starting to feel. “Angel, fuck move please” they gasp out laying against the grass panting as they look up at Oceanide who seems rather content watching them.
His hands move over them as he checks them, pressing against their stomach only to make them wince. He cooed softly with worry written across his face. "I'm alright, fuck just wasn't expecting that " they whisper while rocking back against him.
He chirps softly as he pulls them closer. Leaning back splashing into the water with them pressed to his chest as he floats. It makes them yelp as they shoot him a dirty look. Pulling his fin which earns a hiss and a look like they had kicked a dog.
“don't do that” they grumble but settle against his body as he cradles them. as they gently drift in the water in lazy circles. Nuzzling their face with care, his thrills and calls mellow down into little chirps and rumbles. “God I'm so fucked if anyone finds out about this” they mumble to themself, eyes fluttering closed as they cuddle the large mer, it would be a problem for tomorrow, they were to drained and they doubt they would be getting away from the cling oceanide any time soon.
“what am I going to do with you Angel?” they mumble before sighing and letting the soft rumbles from his chest lure them into rest.
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The soft whistles from Bluestreak had been following the human for a while as they continued picking strange objects off the beach. He wades in the water after them. Trying to get their attention by bringing similar looking stuff he found floating in the ocean. Bluestreak chirps brightly as he trails after the landwalker, fins flared and ablaze as he was hot on their trail. Every so often he surfaces alongside them, presenting another tidbit of flotsam meant to please.
But no amount of trinkets seem able to sway their focus from its task. Undaunted, the excitable mer redoubles his melody, “Soft one, please look at me, I'm trying, I want to prove my worth," He calls out hopeful they would spare him a glance.
He circles hopefully, water swirling around him as he tries to catch their attention.
Bluestreak caws excitedly as he succeeds in grabbing them and pulling them into the shallow water with him, making them forget their carrier of items and as their small hands briefly touch his frame he thrills in delight. But at their cry, he recoils in distress, fins drooping in dismay.
"No no, please don't push me away!" he pleads, chirruping anxiously. "I just want to know you, prove I can give and provide" eyes wide and shining. To have come so close only to fail - the thought is more than his youthful spark can bear. Feebly he trills bumping his crest against theirs. "One chance is all I ask, please let me prove myself."
Their words make him sag softly, feeling dejected at their tone and the words he could understand. "N..o o..o Bl..ue goo, I be wih ow." The words are crash, harsh on his throat as he tries to get across his point. He nuzzles their face pleadingly, eyes wide and bright.
"I want to protect, feed... Always keep you safe I will make a nest... Please, give a chance to provider and protector?" There is a long silence between them as they just stare at him.
When they don't react to the little dance he huffs softly wet webbed hands cupping their face as he presses his lips to their in a messy and uncoordinated kiss. He had seen humans do this before to relay affection and he hoped it would be enough for them to finally understand. eyes taste of strange flavours things he had very tried but he enjoyed it and if it meant they would accept him he would kiss them as many times as they wanted.
"B…e mm te?..." the landers words hurt to express but he wants the get better so they can understand, so he can talk with them. The sad tone in their voice again hurts to hear, they sound so dejected to him, the hadn't said no but they sounded as if they would be in trouble if they did say yes.
"M-mate, please...just try. Let me show you all the ways of the ocean. Our sparks are the same, even if we are shaped differently. Give me a chance," he almost begged eyes wide as he cups their face. nuzzling into their hands with desperate affection. Still his grasp of their strange world remains limited despite all longing.
"Trouble? For touching?" He warbles in confusion, optics rounding wide and bright. The thought of their tender moments sowing them hardship cuts like ice through his spark.
Determined, he gathers their small form close in an embrace.
they lean into his body resting their head against his shoulder as they hold him. Mumbling in their little crash words as he pulls them to slowly drift with him.
He doesn't understand. It's like how the elders told him to stay away from humans. We're they told to stay away from his people?
Bluestreak warbles softly, nuzzling their head with his own as he drifts further with them in his hold. Their gentle touch alone soothes some of his worries. "Nothing simple about you. Elders always said "stay away from you." He keens gently, hoping his melody conveys what words cannot.
The afternoon light bounces off the waves of the surf as he just cradles them against his frame. He warbles softly, nuzzling their head with his own. Another little melody leaving him as they drift in the waves together.
Their question is one he understands though. trilling happily, brightening at their request. Carefully he carries them through the water.
He glides thought the water on his back, making sure they stay sat atop of him. “this is my favourite place, i come here when i want to be away from the others” he coos.
Gently he settles them amidst the soft grass, eyes bright and hopeful.
His fins flutter showing off colours in display as a melody rises from his chest. The soft ones eyes never leave him as he sings, a cascade of tones and harmonics flowing from his frame in waves. He sings his spark out for them. As he spins around in the water, dancing and singing for them.
When he finishes his performance, he nuzzles their face pressing himself close to them. chitters and warbles happily at them. “ liked?”
" I sing and swim just for you!." Eagerly he nuzzles their legs nestled in the tide, fins fluttering softly as their hand comes to brush across his frills. " mate?" His eyes blaze with longing hope as he looks up at them.
His clawed fingers moved to their stange covering, Tugging and pulling trying to figure out how to get it off. “please i want to see you” He chirrups eagerly at them, his flared fins and frills shimmering as he still tries to impress them.
They moment they move to discard the covering he wants to sing loudly, to thrill in triumph. “ we take it slowly Watch and learn, then we mate." His fins flutters wildly as drawing them closer, claws trace aimless patterns across their soft skin, A shaky croon erupts from his throat in plea. "Touch me too, let me show you how? We mate, then swim and sing together." His mind is racing faster than he can talk.
The sweet scent from between their strange legs has his pupils dilating, his mouth is on them before he can even think, they smell so good, ready and in season, everything he could hope for. Their hands grip his head, earning a rumble from him.
their hips rock into his mouth as he laps at them eagerly drinking in the sweet taste of them, when he realises his teeth are brushing their soft skin he retracts them, he doesn't want to hurt his mate, no he didn't want them to bleed.
Their back arches into the grass as he spreads their thighs wider, Gently he nuzzles his way back up their body. He gently pecks their face and neck. They tense up and freeze slightly as he rolls his body against them, his clappers move against their own heat.
“shhh, I promise I'll take care of you” his slit open. Spike emerges slowly, Their eyes widen as more of it slinks out of the slit. they gasp as the mer grinds against them. “it won't hurt I promise” He chirps again softly checking over them again.
Once he finds his preferred position, one webbed claw holds their hips as he moves closer, the head of his spike brushes against their entrance making them tense up. “ no, no don't tense you will hurt yourself” he coos at them softly as he presses against them again the tip slowly breaching into their warmth.
It takes everything in him to not slam home into their tight little frame. They whimper loudly, as he presses deeper, they feel sinfully tight as he moves. A loud purr leaves him as he slowly rocks into them trills happily. “primus you feel amazing, mm my sweet little soft one” he whispers.
His back fins flutter wildly as he grinds himself deeper trying to press as far into them as he physically could. They clench at the feeling only to gasp and let their head fall back into the grass. They move slightly trying to find a more comfortable position, one leg hooking over his back.
Soft chitters of appreciation escape him, once happy Angelfish begins to rock back and forth, it's slow, sticky as he pulls his length out partially before slamming it back into them. Loud moans leave them as they grip onto him, fingers digging into his back as they cling onto him with each thrust.
Angelfish let out a loud whine, his body instinctively grinding back against theirs, his tail flicking each time he hilted in them, thrills of delight rattle down his spinal fins. Each thrust feels like they are gasping for air as he drives his spike deeper. The feeling of his scales are strange as he manoeuvres them but in truth they feel sinfully good against their skin.
"Ne…ed yo... waa,t..." his voice sounds so broken yet filled with desire and longing, his. They dig their heel into the his back. Eagerly clenching around him. Every thrust, every touch was a declaration of his primal need to breed and impregnate them, to claim them as his little mate. Would their pups take after his sweet little lander if they had them?
So many thoughts run through his mind as he holds them in place.
"Such a good mate... so eager for my pups" he coos to them, he knew they couldn't understand but at that moment he didn't care, they felt so good wrapped around his spike and he could feel his knot slowly inflating and locking them together.
They cry out as his Spike flares, a large knot locking them in place at the base as gush of his seed, spilling into their smaller frame. His fins and frills extend in display as he thrills loudly, rutting quickly with each spurt that leaves his knotted length.
He purrs deeply watching as he leaks from the confined space of his little lover, leaning down he presses his crest to their forehead in delight. When they begin to wiggle he pulls them to his chest. His hands move over them as he checks them, pressing against their stomach. “So full, you look lovely like this little mate"he hums in delight only to tense when they wince. He cooed softly with worry written across his face. they whisper while rocking back against him.
“Shhh, you did so well for me, so well, time for us to swim” he whispers to them as he flops back into the water with them cradled against his body. He chirps softly as he pulls them closer. Leaning back splashing into the water with them pressed to his chest as he floats. It makes them yelp as they shoot him a dirty look. Pulling his fin which earns a hiss and a look like they had kicked a dog. “What was that for?” He warbles at them worried he had offended or upset them. His hands are moving across their body again, checking them and praying that they were not hurt.
They grumble but settle against his body as he cradles them. as the two gently drift in the water in lazy circles. He nuzzles their face with care, slowly grooming their crest fluff. “ My pretty little mate” he chirps to them.
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#transformers#transformers idw#mtmte#transformers x human#transformers x reader#valveplug#mermaid au#mermen#merman#mermaid#merformers#mermaid transformers#bluestreak x reader#idw bluestreak#tf bluestreak#bluestreak transformers
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"𝓐𝓶 𝓘 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶 𝓸𝓯?" ༉‧₊˚.
↺ includes : dazai osamu & chuuya nakahara x fem!reader
↺ content warnings : nsfw content (mdni), threesome, double penetration, facefucking, overstimulation, unprotected sex, oral (m &f recieving), hairpulling, dumbification etc
↺ synopsis : you had one too many drinks at a bar after getting dumped by your ex boyfriend on your birthday, and end up fucking the two most dangerous men you have ever met
↺ w.c : 2.7k+ words of absolute filth
↺ author's note : Ik I said this will be posted on the 29th but I kindaaa finished early...I honestly thought dazai & fyodor would win in the poll but I'm pleasantly surprised that chuuya won. Happy reading & I hope y'all enjoy <3 ps. this is supposed to be a bday fic for someone but I unfortunately could not find the ask so whoever you are, happy early b'day!
You squealed when Dazai parted your shaky thighs, licking his lips at your soaked lacy panties. "oh, bella, we barely even touched you and you're already dripping down there? naughty girl.." his voice dropped an octave, making you shiver. "quit yappin' and get to work, shitty dazai," Chuuya scoffed from behind you, gloved fingers pinching and pulling at your swollen nipples, coaxing little whines and moans from you. "you are just jealous that I'm the one about to devour her right now," the bandaged man shrugged, but still complying nonetheless. His fingers hooked under your panties and swiftly pulled them down, breath hitching as he watched webs of your sticky arousal cling to the thin fabric. Chuuya noticed that your attention was on Dazai and he wasn't having that. He turned your face to the side and smashed his lips against yours, swallowing your moans as Dazai nibbled on the insides of your thighs. Just how did you get stuck between these two unbelievably attractive men?
...You sighed, slamming your shot of Tequila down, the alcohol burning in your throat. "And he just broke up with me like that! On my fucking birthday too! What the fuck?" Your friend only patted your back, frowning, "girl, I knew he was no good from day one. let's just forget about him for now, yeah? try to enjoy tonight?" You nodded, a frown etched on your face. "Yeah, I know...but I really loved him, y'know? Even though he was terrible in bed," you giggled, nudging your friend's arm playfully. "How about we get you some real action tonight?" She wiggled her eyebrows, both of you chuckling. "Who should I go for?" You scanned the bar, looking for your partner for the night when your eyes land on Chuuya. The ginger haired man was at a corner, sipping away at his expensive drink, target locked. You touched your makeup up a bit before strutting towards him, giving him your best doe eyes when he looks up at you, "You here alone?" He smirked, "No, I'm here with some... colleagues. What about you, pretty girl?" You took a seat beside him, grinning as he poured you a glass of the 20 something grand drink, "I'm here with my friend, We're here to celebrate my birthday." He handed you the glass, "Oh, happy birthday. how's your night goin' so far?" You sipped on the drink, scrunching your face at the bitter taste of the alcohol, "Well...not to spill my life story or anything, but I got dumped today," he frowned, placing a gloved hand on your shoulder, "Sorry 'bout that, hon. Must've been an ass to do that on you birthday." You laughed, staring in his greyish blue eyes, "Yeah.." he leaned closer, his breath fanning over your lips, you could almost taste the 'aged monopole' on his lips—
"chuuuuuuuyaaa~" Dazai interrupted you both with his sing-song voice, making you both jump. "What the hell are you doing here?" Chuuya gritted his teeth, clearly annoyed. You turned around to lock eyes with chocolate brown ones; oh, he was pretty. You could see a smirk splayed on his lips, winking at you before looking at Chuuya. "I thought I smelled a dog around here, and would you look at that? It's my dear ex-partner Chuuya!" The said man swung at Dazai, landing a punch on his stomach. "Oumph— I was wondering what you were doing with such a pretty woman," he said, taking your hand in his, kissing the back of it. "May I have the honour of knowing this pretty lady's name?" You giggled, "Of course, it's—" Chuuya cut you off by snatching your hand away, glaring daggers at Dazai. "Get the hell out of here, mackerel," Chuuya groaned. "This pretty lady has been through a breakup tonight, on her birthday, and I'm sure she doesn't need you annoying her to death too." Dazai only pouted, "Or are you just afraid that she'd leave you because of me, hmm?" He looked at you, smiling. "Trust me, baby. I can do much better than this malnourished ginger." You could see Chuuya's right eye twitch. "You really think so?" The brunette man leaned closer, towering over the both of you. "I know so." "Then let's fucking prove it."
...Everything after that was a blur to you. You didn't remember when you left the bar with them or when you entered the hotel. All you knew was that it felt so hot. It felt so hot when Chuuya pressed open-mouthed kisses on your nape and behind your ears, all while Dazai made himself comfortable between your spread legs. He shoved your panties in his pocket for later use, his tongue darting out to kitten lick at your puffy clit. He could feel your pussy throbbing on his tongue, clearly wanting more of his touch. Chuuya pushed the straps of your tight black dress down your shoulders, massaging your plump breasts while kissing you deeply. "Oh, you taste fucking divine," Dazai hummed, snickering when you clenched down on his tongue from the praise. "You like that, birthday girl? like it when I praise you?" You could only moan, nodding your head. The ginger man behind you flipped you over so that you were on your stomach, ass pressing against Dazai's face, and he moaned, calloused fingers spreading your cheeks apart as he slurped your juices up. Your cheek was smushed against Chuuya's dress pants, drooling on the expensive fabric. You could see the prominent bulge on his crotch, just begging to be touched. "Put that pretty mouth to use, darl'," he whispered, unzipping his pants and pulling his boxer's down, his cock finally springing free and slapping against his stomach. Your mouth watered; it was so pretty. Reasonable sized with a girth promised to make you see stars. The tip was flushed pink, precum pearling at his slit. You picked the underside of his cock, paying extra attention to the large vein, making him hiss. He grabbed the back of your head, tapping his cock on your warm cheek, "Open up, hon." You happily obliged, sticking your tongue out for him to shove his shaft down your throat, making you slightly gag as tears prick your eyes. You gasped when Dazai pushed two slim fingers into your hole, your insides sucking them in eagerly. "There we go, sweet girl. Taking my fingers so nicely~" You cleched down on him at the praise, moaning around the fat cock in your mouth. The red-head shivered at the vibrations from your mouth. Tipping his head back slightly, fingers tightening their grip on your hair as you start bobbing your head up and down. It was messy; webs of his precum and your saliva was dripping down your chin, your mascara running down your puffy cheeks as you tried your best to breathe through your nose. Dazai scoffed when Chuuya smirked at him, successful in stealing your attention. He blew on your clit, making you jump. You tried to look back at him but Chuuya's grip was firm, patting your head softly before doing an experimental thrust in your mouth, tip of his cock nudging against the back of your throat. On the other hand, Dazai was getting lost in your cunt; skilled tongue swirling over your swollen clit, fingers curling against your g-spot, moaning into your pussy when you clenched particularly hard. Chuuya was now thrusting up into your warm mouth eagerly, holding your head down while muttering out small curses. He loved the way your eyes rolled back from the overwhelming feeling of Dazai eating your cunt like the best meal he's ever had while Chuuya fucked your throat 'till it burned, your lipstick staining his cock.
You jolted forward when a lubed finger pushed into your other hole, the feeling entirely foreign to you. Dazai's warm hand smoothed over your ass, giving it a playful smack, "Relax, pretty. You are gonna take the both of us, aren't you?" Your eyes widened, the both of them inside..at the same time— could you even handle it?
Chuuya patted your cheek softly, turning your attention to him, "You don't have to if you don't want to, we won't force you into anything." Your heart fluttered at his caring nature, hearts practically swimming in your pupils. You pulled your mouth off of Chuuya's cock, making him hiss. " 's okay.. I can take it," you whispered, making Dazai smirk devilishly, "that's my girl."
They switched places now; Chuuya between your pretty legs while Dazai eagerly thrusted up into your welcoming mouth, slobbering all over his cock. Your jaw was hurting from how hard he was shoving himself in and out, back arching like a cat's when Chuuya's long fingers brush against that one spot inside your walls. His tongue swirled around your puckered hole, making you squeal and try to kick your legs and fail, his hands firmly gripping them, "Behave," he growled into your cunt, making Dazai snicker. "How's she taste?" Dazai grinned, hissing when your tongue swipes over his slit. "Fucking amazing," Chuuya's eyes slightly rolled back, going drunk from your addictive taste on his tongue. Dazai's thrusts sped up, now hitting the back of your throat as you creamed all over Chuuya's face. He was glad your back was turned to him so you couldn't see him cumming in his pants like a pathetic teenager. "Came in your pants already?" Dazai laughed, cutting himself off with a groan as he holds your head down, cumming down your throat.
Dazai picked your already tired body up, placing you on his lap, telling you how good you did for them while kissing your tears away. "Now, get ready for the real thing," he smirked, slapping the tip on your clit before lining his cock up with your entrance. "Hope you're ready, princess," Chuuya uttered from behind you, rubbing soothing circles on your back, pushing your hair out of the way to kiss and nibble on your marked neck as Dazai pushed into you with a wet 'pop!' Your jaw slacking as he buried himself to the hilt, pressing his forehead against yours as he panted out little praises. Your body was tense in Dazai's hold, clenching down on his cock when his fingers found your clit, trying to get you to relax and it worked as you went limp in his arms. Chuuya on the otherhand, was busy lathering lube all over his cock, pumping it a few times in his first before lining it up with your puckered hole. Slowly but surely pushing in, focused on how you moan into Dazai's lips, the smug brunnete swallowing your moans. "Does it hurt, doll?" He grunted, grabbing your hips for stability as he tried his best not to shove himself all the way in. "Hurts— hurts so good.." you slurred, eyes rolling back from the sheer pleasure of both of them inside you. His cock pushed fully past the tight ring of muscle, balls touching your ass while he shuddered, fingers digging into the plush of your hips so tightly that you're sure it'll leave bruises tomorrow. But you didn't care, not when you were stuffed full by these two men you had just met, creaming and clenching on their cocks. "God, she's clenching so damn hard. Aren't you, baby?" The man in front of you panted, fingers still rubbing circles on your clit, pinching the small bud when you whine and whimper for them. Chuuya turned your head around to face him, capturing your parted lips for a sweet kiss, rolling his hips experimentally and groaning when you tighten even further.
Your makeup had been completely ruined by the time they were finally starting to thrust in and out of you, the two of them perfectly synchronized with each other, as if they could read the other person's mind. Every time one of them pulled out, the other pushed in and vice versa. Your mouth formed an 'o' shape, clawing at Dazai's shirt as they worked you to your orgasm. Your brain couldn't function properly anymore, filtering out all thoughts besides the two men ravaging you right now, stretching out your holes and all you could do was lay there and sob out their names. "Oh shiit— did we fuck her stupid already?" Chuuya questioned, breathy moans and grunts leaving his swollen lips that were stained with your lipstick like his cock. "Sure looks like it, ah fuuck—" Dazai moaned, their rhythm slowly falling apart as their orgasm approached. " 'm gunna—" you couldn't even finish your sentence before squrting all over their cocks, head lolling back on Chuuya's shoulder as you twitched from the overstimulation. Dazai's hips stilled suddenly, shooting his seed deep inside of you, some of it dribbling out as he pulls out, some of it spurting on your cunt, coating your pussy lips in his release. Chuuya's arms hooked under your knees, bringing you to his chest as you screamed his name, tears flowing out of your puffy eyes like jewels. "Cumming— fuck!" He growled, slim hips pressed against your plump ass while he flooded your insides with his cum.
Your heavy eyelids widened when Chuuya lifted you up, now facing him. "What're you—" you gasped when you felt his cock prodding at your cunt this time, ready to fuck you to oblivion. Dazai gripped your hair from behind, tugging on it to make eye contact with you, "You didn't think we were done from just that, did you?" You whimpered at his low tone of voice, perfectly manicured nails digging into Chuuya's shoulders as he pushes into you again, your cunt fucked raw and sore. Bandaged hands spread your cheeks apart, groaning at the lewd view of his ex-partners cum flowing out of your hole. " 's too mph— much!" You babbled, wincing at Dazai pulled at your hair and landed a swift smack on your ass. "You can take it, honey," he bit his lip, slipping into your other hole with a loud groan, your eyes crossing at the mind-numbing stimulation.
"Shiiit— pussy grippin' me so tight," Chuuya moaned, throwing his head back as he thrusted into you vigorously. The three of you were rendered a drooling, panting mess; overstimulated and shaking as they bend and mold your body to their desire, turning you into their personal cocksleeve for the night and you loved it. Dazai's fingers found your nipples, pinching and pulling and the hardened buds, making you cry out even louder for them, slapping one of the soft mounds before flicking at your nipples again.
You felt something in your lower stomach turning, tightening as they thrusted in and out of your oversensitive cunt. Chuuya's hand suddenly wrapped around your throat, not gripping tight but hard enough to make you feel breathless and dizzy. Everything went white, you could hear ringing in your ears as you gushed all over them, your juices covering Chuuya's abdomen and dripping down his cock. A creamy ring had formed around the base of his cock, hands reaching everywhere they could before his hips stopped, his semen gushing into your walls and staining them white. Dazai came shortly after, burying his face into your neck as his cum filled your gooey insides.
They both pulled out before Dazai laid you on your back gently, softly shushing your sobs as you clung onto him, burying your face in his chest. His hand was splayed on your back, rubbing random shapes on your sensitive skin. "Shh, my pretty girl. Did so well for us, hm?" He whispered, kissing the crown of your head while Chuuya got up to get a washcloth and a glass of water. He handed you the glass of water and some pills, "birth pills," he clarified, looking away bashfully while Dazai snickered. You didn't even realize how dry your throat was until drinking the cold water, offering your burning throat some relief. "I should probably lea—" you got cut off by Dazai pulling you back into his arms burying his face into your soft chest, "Why not stay? I'm not the type of guy to let a pretty lady go home alone at 3 am after having such an intimate moment." Chuuya huffed and nodded in agreement, laying next to you before wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Dazai pouted, scooting closer and shoving Chuuya's arm off of you. "A dog should know it's place, you should honestly go sleep on the floor," Dazai joked. "HAAH?!"
©ambrosiaa— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, likes and reblogs are very appreciated♡
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Dial Tones - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
This Contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: You'd been waiting for sex in your relationship with Ethan, and after doing some other things with him before you left for college, you found yourself curious of what your boyfriend would do when he had the opportunity to have all of you.
Contains: m and f masturbation, phone sex.
A/N: This is my first attempt at writing phone sex, and because I'm a sensitive baby, don't tell me if it sucks lmao. This was requested forever ago, and I'm thinking it could lead into the virgin!reader x virgin!Ethan fic I need to write👀 Let me know if y'all are cool with that haha.
P.S. - It's shorter than my normal stuff. I'm trying to figure out how to write phone sex💀
Before your left for college, your relationship with Ethan started to get a little…steamier. You weren’t fully ready for sex, and the furthest you’d ever gone was some oral stuff for him, and one night your shirt and bra came off while he rubbed you over your jeans, but Ethan was more than okay to wait for sex with you, because he loved you, and wanted you to be ready before you took things to the next level.
Once you were in different areas of the country, you were starting to regret not having sex with Ethan. You regularly found yourself thinking about his hands on you, and how loving he was, and how he never tried to push past the boundaries you’d set in place. He’d been so patient with you, even though he wanted it so badly.
You’d just got home from your last class of the day when you crawled onto your bed and pulled out your laptop to work on your assignments, when you heard your phone vibrating on the bed beside you. You quickly answered it once you saw Ethan’s name.
“Hey, babe,” you said, your sweet voice making him smile on the other end of the call. “How was your day?”
“It was good,” he sighed, “I’ve been missing you so much today.”
“Only two more weeks, and you’ll have me all to yourself,” you said, as he lightly chuckled.
“I can’t wait.” You could hear the happiness in his voice as he spoke. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Well, my roommate is already at some huge frat thing with the sorority she’s rushing. I was planning on doing homework until I eventually pass out,” you said, laughing a little at how uninteresting your Friday night plans sounded. “What are you doing tonight?”
“My roommate is out tonight, too. We’re both loners,” he joked, as you scoffed.
“Too bad I’m not there with you,” you said, your bottom lip going in between your teeth as you thought about it. “Just curious, what would you do if I was there with you?”
“I’d give you so many hugs and kisses,” he said, as you smiled at how sweet he was.
“Is that all you’d want to do?” you asked, the tone of your voice a little different than Ethan was used to.
“Oh, um, cuddling, of course,” he said, as you started to giggle.
“What else would you do, baby?” you purred, “Because I can think of so many things.”
“What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice a little heavier as he got more comfortable on his bed.
“I can’t stop thinking about your hands on me,” you said, as you closed your laptop and laid back. “And how good it feels when you kiss my neck.”
“I uh…,” he trailed off, unsure of what to say. You’d never tried to do something like this before, and he didn’t want to say anything to make you uncomfortable.
“Or how good it feels when you’re sucking on my nipples,” you said, as your hand started to teasingly run up your body.
“Fuck, baby,” he sighed, as he started to get hard in his jeans. “When you’re ready one day, I’d love to have my mouth all over your body.”
“Tell me about it. What would you do?” you questioned, as you sat up to pull your shirt over your head.
“I’d start with kissing your neck, because I know how much you like it. Then I’d kiss you down your chest, and I’d pay so much attention to your sensitive nipples,” he said, his voice a little raspy. “Then I’d kiss down your tummy, and fuck, I know you’d be breathing so heavy.”
“Keep going, baby,” you said, putting your phone on speaker as you sat it down beside you to unhook your bra.
“Then I’d get you out of your jeans, and after I had those off your legs, I’d start kissing you from your ankles to your thighs.”
You took your jeans off, too, getting wetter by the second at all the things Ethan was saying to you.
“Then I’d start rubbing you over your panties,” he said, as you started to run your fingertips over the soaked material in between your legs. A small gasp slipped past your lips at the feeling, as the realization hit Ethan that you were touching yourself. “I bet they’d be so wet.”
“They are,” you teasingly said, as Ethan groaned. “I think you should take your pants off.”
“Okay,” he said, and you soon heard the rustling of him quickly getting out of them.
“How hard are you right now?” you asked, as he let out a deep breath.
“So hard.”
“What else would you want to do?” you questioned, “Because I need to hear a little more.”
“I’d get you out of those panties,” he said, as you slid them down your legs. You heard rustling again on his end, you assumed he was taking off his boxers. “And then I’d explore your pussy with my tongue.”
“Fuck, Ethan,” you gasped, as your fingers started to roll over your needy bundle of nerves.
“What are you doing, baby?” he asked, his breath a little heavy as he waited for your answer.
“Touching myself, wishing it was your fingers instead of mine,” you admitted, a soft moan slipping past your lips when you started to move your fingers faster.
“I was it was mine too, baby. I wish it was your hand on my cock right now,” he groaned, “How good does it feel?”
You didn’t answer him, the moaning that was getting a little louder letting him know what he needed to know. His hand sped up, a bead of precum dripping out of his tip as he listened to all the sounds you were making.
“Finger yourself, baby,” he groaned, as you stopped your hand movements and slid one finger into your tight, dripping pussy.
You pumped that single finger in and out before you tried to add another one. You were so wet, but it was still difficult for you to get it in.
“I don’t know how you’re going to fit inside of me,” you said, whimpering as you stretched yourself out. “I can barely take two fingers.”
“Oh fuck, you’re that tight, baby?” he asked, as he started to jerk his cock even faster. “I’d take such good care of you. I’d make you feel so good.”
Your mouth dropped open as you panted, your eyes closing as you tried to imagine Ethan doing all the things you were doing to yourself. You remembered how good his hands and mouth felt on other parts of your body, and when you thought about his mouth and fingers on your pussy, you felt your orgasm starting to build. You knew Ethan was getting close, the soft grunts slipping past his lips sounding the same as when you were on your knees for him before you left for college.
“I love the way you sound,” he grunted, “You’re doing such a good job at fingering that tight little pussy for me.”
“Oh my god,” you whimpered, “Keep talking to me like that, please baby.”
“Oh, you like dirty talk?” he chuckled through his panting, as you whined in response. “I bet your pussy tastes so good. I can’t wait to have my tongue inside of you. I can’t wait to be the one to have you making all those pretty little sounds.”
Ethan kept talking, as you placed your other hand on your clit, rubbing fast circles as you pumped your fingers in and out, angling them just right. Your hips started to arch off the bed, your entire body getting so hot as you whined out, your orgasm washing over you as your shaky hands tried to keep moving.
“Did you just cum all over your fingers, baby?” Ethan asked, a low groan slipping out as he waited for your answer.
“Yes,” you shakily whimpered, as you slowly slid your fingers out of your pussy. “Now I need you to cum for me.”
“Oh fuck,” he moaned, your name rolling off his tongue as he shot his cum all over his chest and abs.
As you lay on your bed, catching your breath, Ethan was laying on his, hours away from you, doing the same. You couldn’t stop smiling, your brain still hazy when Ethan spoke up.
“That was so hot…can we do that again sometime?”
“We could…or you could experience the real thing in two weeks…” you trailed off, Ethan’s eyes growing wide at your words.
“Are you sure, baby? I told you, I’ll wait as long as you want,” he said, as you sat up to put your clothes back on just in case your roommate came home earlier than expected.
“I know you would, but I love and trust you, and I know you’d take care of me. I want to have sex with you,” you said, smiling as you thought about it. “If you’re ready, that is.”
“Oh, I’m ready.”
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Six Months
An attempt at some parenthood angst?
Similarly to the title, this fic has been in my WIP folder for a minute; it went through a handful of edits. I'd like to think this is good enough for y'all.
The Bear Masterlist
Next part
Carmy sat in the office staring at the paperwork Sugar needed his signature on; when he saw the date on his phone, it hit him—today marked six months. Six months of parenthood and six months of celibacy, to say Carmy was sexually frustrated, was an understatement. “Hey Carm, did you- are you okay?” Sugar asked when she caught him staring blankly at his phone. He didn’t respond until she put her hand on his shoulder. Her touch snapped him out of his trance. He looked at her before quickly apologizing, “Sorry, what were you sayin'?” Sugar grinned as she patted his shoulder, “You okay, Bear?”
Carmy nodded and straightened up in his desk chair, “Yea- just thinkin’ bout the baby.”
Carmy got home from work late. He quietly slipped his jacket off, and hung it on the coat rack before removing his shoes. Walking down the hallway, he slipped into the nursery, knowing the baby would be asleep. He found it impossible not to be happy in her room. The walls were decorated with vintage floral wallpaper you’d bought off Etsy, it may have been a pain in the ass to put up, but Carmy happily obliged when he saw how happy it had made you. He crept to his baby girl’s crib and felt the day's stress disappear. She was peacefully sleeping in a light pink sleep sack, furiously sucking away on her pacifier. “Sweet dreams, princess,” he whispered. “I love you.”
The joy of watching his daughter sleep faded away as he approached the askew door to the master bedroom the two of you shared. “I’m home, baby.” Carmy grinned as he walked toward the open closet door, “Hi, Carm.” you called from the bathroom. When he entered the bathroom, you were brushing your teeth. As the mix of salvia and toothpaste residue dripped from your mouth Carmy’s breath hitched- was this enough to get him goin’? He shook his head as he pulled his shirt off and threw it in the laundry hamper before turning on the shower.
“How was work, babe?” you asked before bringing a small cup of mouthwash to your lips. Carmy watched as you swished it around your mouth and spit it into the sink. “Carmy?” you asked again; he swallowed. “Yeah, uh, it was good. Busy,” he answered as you hopped up on the counter. You were desperate for adult interaction after being home with the baby all day.
“Mia, have a good day?” Carmy questioned. You nodded, “We did some laundry, then had mashed pears for lunch- she did. I had that leftover pasta sauce you made... Read a couple books and went on a walk... Then did her bedtime routine, and I worked on that stupid documentary I was telling you about.”
As you recounted your day, Carmy nodded, but he was staring at your chest, barely hearing what you said. You’d been wearing one of his old T-shirts. He noticed how prominent your nipples were under the soft, worn-in material. He was captivated by the fullness of your breasts, and he’d do just about anything to touch them again. “Carm, you okay?” you asked, hopping down from the counter; he nodded. “Wanna get in with me?” he asked cocking his head in the direction of the running shower. You giggled, “Maybe next time, bear.”
“Oh fuck-” Carmy grunted as he worked his hand up and down his length. He felt like a teenager again, masturbating in the shower before going to school. However, now, instead of imagining the unrealistic scenarios he’d see in pornos, he had memories of you. Carmy thought back to the last time you’d really touched him. Heavily pregnant, hormonal, begging for his tongue and his cock… he’d expected a shift in your sex life as the two of you adjusted to parenthood, but this long of a dry spell was the last thing he’d expected. Carmy squeezed his eyes closed as he came down the drain.
~
“Good morning, princess.” Carmy cooed as Mia squirmed in her crib, trying to get out of her sleep sack. She spat her pacifier out and let out a gruggle. “So it’s one of those mornings?” he chuckled as he unzipped her. He watched her stretch before carefully picking her up, “See, you’re okay.” he rocked her gently before exiting the nursery and heading downstairs.
You were making coffee and prepping a bottle for Mia as he entered the kitchen. “You’re off today, right?” Carmy nodded in response before handing you Mia. “You goin’ to work?” he questioned, as he got two mugs from the cabinet. You groaned in response, “Jenny called off, so I have to go in. I’ll be back before bedtime.”
“Well, looks like Mia and I are havin' some Daddy-Daughter time,” you smiled as Carmy gently kissed her head before going to get the milk from the fridge. When you’d met Carmy all those years ago at some trendy Chicago bar, you found him incredibly alluring. His disheveled curls, the mix of some musky cologne and cigarette smoke, the way his T-shirt wrapped around his muscular arms… he’d always been… sexy. But watching him interact with Mia was a different kind of attractive.
Carmy drummed his thumbs on the handlebar of the grocery cart. He scanned the shelf before him as Mia happily made her baby noises as she looked around the aisle. “Okay, princess… they don’t have almond extract. What kind of grocery store doesn’t have fuckin’ almond extract.” Mia put her hands out to Carmy, grabbing at the air. Carmy chuckled and ducked to kiss her cheek.
“Oh my gosh, she’s too precious.” a sickly, sweet feminine voice cooed from behind Carmy. He grinned when he turned his attention to her, “How old is she?” she asked. Carmy got a good look at the woman; she was pretty, but she wasn’t you. “Oh, uh, she’s six months,” he answered as the woman stepped closer. She smelled like cheap vanilla and a mix of flowery scents Carmy couldn’t place. Mia glared at the woman, and Carmy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m Selena. I’m in this parenting group. You should stop by.” she smiled as she looked him up and down. The attention made Carmy regret not regularly wearing his wedding ring. “I’m not really the par-” Carmy started to say before Selena cut him off. “I’m not takin’ no as an answer. What’s your number?” she handed him her phone.
Carmy didn’t know why he gave her his number- could he blame it on feeling uncomfortable? Was that even the right thing to do? It’s not like he’d ever do anything with this woman. He’d never throw away his marriage to you by hooking up with some woman he met at the grocery store. The reality of Carmy's actions didn’t hit him until he was in the checkout line. He gave his phone number to another woman- was that cheating on you? Did doing that in front of his daughter make him a bad father? “Okay, your total is $63.82.” the cashier smiled. Carmy nodded and swiped his card. He needed to get out of there as quickly as possible so he wouldn’t run into Selena again.
~
It had been a couple of weeks since Carmy’s interaction at the grocery store. He’d noticed Selena’s text messages here and there. They seemed innocent until one Friday night, he was working late, you were home with the baby, and Selena had sent Carmy an explicit picture, hoping it would get his attention.
We’re both parents.
I’m not looking for anything serious, Carmy…
My son is at his Dad’s place
Come over <3
Carmy stared at the messages before his eyes went up to the attached photo. Selena had the hem of her T-shirt between her teeth, showing off her toned stomach. He swallowed as he admired the contrast between her skin and the brightly colored fabric of her lacy underwear. He should block her. He should just delete the messages and block her number. He had a wife and baby at home—he couldn’t make this kind of mistake. He locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket before returning to the kitchen cleanup, “Hey Carm, I can finish this up. Go home.” Sweeps grinned as he attempted to connect his phone to the Bluetooth speaker on the counter. Carmy grinned, “You sure, man?” Sweeps nodded assuringly. “I think I can handle this boss man.”
You heard Carmy walk into the bedroom that night, “Hey babe!” you called as you put your blowdryer in its designated spot by the sink. As the bathroom door swung open, Carmy’s lips were on yours. The initial shock wore off as Carmy’s tongue invaded your mouth, and his hands pushed under the hem of your sleep shorts to grasp at your ass cheeks. Carmy pulled you closer to him, forcing you onto your tip toes. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers delicately tangling in the roots of his hair. The passionate kiss ended when Carmy started to kiss down your jaw. A giggle escaped your mouth as his lips brushed against your earlobe before he nipped at your neck. “Carm-m what got into you?” you croaked as you adjusted your hips against his.
“I need you, baby,” he muttered, lifting you off the floor. You squealed as he crashed down onto your mattress. He hovered above your body, staring into your eyes. “I need to be inside you, baby.” he swallowed hard as you bit your lip. “Carmyyy,” you giggled as you watched him pull his t-shirt off. You ran a finger down his chest, making him moan softly.
“Let me make you feel good, baby…” Carmy whispered in your ear as one of his hands found its way into your oversized sleep shirt. Your breath hitched when you felt his calloused fingertips graze your ribs. " I-I—" you studdered nervously. “Baby…please.” Carmy quietly asked as his lips brushed against yours. “No.” you whispered as you grabbed his wrist through your shirt, “What?” Carmy questioned as he stood up abruptly, “Did I do something? We haven’t done anything in like six months- clearly I did something wrong. Just tell me so I can fix it!” Carmy raised his voice as his eyebrows knit together in frustration.
You propped yourself on your elbows and watched as he picked up his shirt from the floor, “Carmen, please don’t yell at me.” you said calmly. You watched as he rolled his eyes and paced before you, “Baby. I want to have sex with you. I need to have sex with you-” Carmy groaned as he pushed his hands over his face into his hair. Your eyes narrowed, “Carmen. I had a baby-”
“I KNOW! I fucking know! You had my baby, but now you don’t even want to fuckin’ shower with me! I get it- pregnancy was hard, and then giving birth was hard, and now being a mom is hard.” Carmy started staring at the ceiling while he expressed himself. He took a breath and turned to look at you; regret washed over him when he noticed you were on the verge of tears. “Baby, please don’t cry…” he pleaded as he knelt by the bed. He reached for your hand, but you pulled away before he could grab it, “Sorry, I don’t want to fuck you after taking care of your baby all day.” you spat. Carmy closed his eyes and took another breath trying to compose himself before saying something dumb, “How dare I fail to meet my wifely duties.” you angrily laughed as you stood up.
You crossed your arms over your chest and stared as Carmy got up. “Baby, I didn’t—" you cut Carmy off with a groan. “Shut up, Carmen. You don’t get to speak to me like that.”
Carmy sighed and stepped closer to you, as he reached out for your hips only for you to slap his hands away. “Don’t touch me.” you glared at him, “Fuck this.” Carmy muttered under his breath as he pulled his shirt back on over his head. “What do you mean ‘fuck this’?” you questioned as Carmy exited the bedroom, “I need air.” Carmy called back to you.
You moved to your bedroom window to see Carmy walking toward his car in the driveway. He got in and pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket.
Send me your address.
#the bear#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy the bear#carmen berzatto one shot#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto x you#carmy smut#carmy berzatto smut#carmen berzatto angst#carmen berzatto smut#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto fanfiction#the bear fx#the bear fan ficiton#the bear fic#the bear one shot#the bear imagine
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In A Rut (Monster!Hawks x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)
Pairing: Keigo “Hawks” Takami x Black!Fem!Reader (Coworkers to Lovers)
Synopsis: You haven't seen your boss around the office in a while ever since he started feeling "under the weather", but when you decide to visit him one day to cheer him up with some soup, you realize that this isn't a normal spring cold. Your boss is in heat and you, his good little assistant, are the only one who can help him cure it.
Warnings: Monsterfucking; Monsterfucker!Reader; Mild Power Play; Boss x Assistant; Mild BDSM; MDom/fsub; Marking; Heat Symptoms; Hawks Has a Big ol’ Dick; Deepthroat; Cunnilingus; Sloppy, Rough Sex; Scent Play; Overstimulation; Ownership; Multiple Orgasms; Multiple Creampies; Multiple Positions; Cum Play; Aftercare
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer’s Note: Happy spring, y'all!! 💐💐🌼🌼🌻🌻 Fucking FINALLY winter & the cold is gone! Now that the weather is heating up, I wanted to write something about my favorite birdman suffering from heat. Enjoy! -Jazz
********
You’re worried about Mr. Takami.
Or “Hawks” as he’s told several of his employees, staff, and interns to call him around his agency time and time again. But as his personal assistant for over a year, you take respect and professionalism very seriously.
Hawks is one of the most laidback bosses you’ve had in your professional career. He doesn’t make you fetch coffee unless you’re getting some for yourself, he’s flexible with deadlines, he lets you go home early despite the workload, and has all of his employees take off on Fridays…which he also pays for.
Though it’s a nice change, you also can’t help but be wary of Hawks. It isn’t that he’s a bad guy. He is considerably nice––always greeting you in the mornings; checking up on you in the afternoons; letting you use his office when he isn’t in it, etc.
But he is also extremely cocky. It comes with the territory of being pro hero #2, you suppose, but the way he saunters into the office every Monday through Thursday in his designer clothes and Rolex watch always rubs you the wrong way.
Not to mention he’s a humongous flirt. Your friend calls it being “overly friendly”. She also says he doesn’t flirt with any other woman at his agency like he does you. He always gives you those charming smiles that seem to irk you to no end and puts that flirty lilt in his voice when he speaks to you. Not to mention the constant compliments on your outfits and work that stick with you until the end of your shifts.
Last week on Monday, the last day you saw him, was no different. You were sitting with your friend at your desk that morning, sipping on your iced coffee before the 9 AM meeting. Your friend was giving you the latest gossip on two employees hooking up in the stairwell during lunch last week when you both saw Hawks sauntering into the office.
“Shh, shh!” she hushes you even though you didn’t say anything. She straightened up and smiled at your boss, bowing. “Good morning, Mr. Takami,” she chirps. The blonde, in his navy blue suit and red bottoms, gave you each a smile that lingered on you for too long. “Ladies,” he greets.
You looked away, busying yourself by checking your email. “I’ve got your schedule and plans for today’s meeting for you,” your friend said, passing him a folder. “And your coffee, made by yours truly.” She nudged you, making you narrow your eyes at her.
“Ah, thank you!” Hawks happily sighed. “And I told you before: just call me Hawks. I don’t need all of that ‘Mr’ shit.” His golden eyes then trailed down to you, his stare making you feel uncomfortable in your long-sleeve blouse. “Thank you, Ms. L/N,” he purrs. “See you at the meeting?”
He gave you a wink, a hint at his joking manner, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. He was always picking on you like this. “I’m required to be there as your assistant so, yes,” you replied, blandly so.
He didn’t think anything of it. “Good,” he hummed happily. “I’ll need my right hand when I get tired of talking or my coffee doesn’t kick in fast enough. Carry on.”
He gave you a flitting wink before walking off to his office for some time alone. Once gone, your friend fanned herself. “Oh, my God, he’s so fucking fine!” she groaned. You shushed her, hitting her arm. “Come on, his office is right there!” you hissed. “He might hear you!”
“But isn’t he so fine?” your friend went on, ignoring your warning. “You have to admit that he’s fine!” You chose your words carefully, stirring your straw around in your coffee. “He’s…okay,” you weakly replied. “But he’s our boss! Whatever I think of him doesn’t matter.” At least you told yourself that.
The meeting was about new anti-discrimination policies in workplaces and merging with UA High and Indeed to create a special job website for aspiring pro heroes and those with quirks.
You sat across from Hawks and Rumi, his friend and co-owner of the agency, who sipped on her coffee free of cream and sugar. “Took you long enough,” she grumbled to Hawks. “What, you forget to fluff your feathers this mornin’ or somethin’?”
You giggled to yourself at her joke before the meeting started. You met with Principal Nezu who happily bowed in front of the laptop personally set up to meet his eye level. “Good morning, everyone!” he exclaimed. “I appreciate all of you for your time today, including the Indeed associates, and for Hawks for allowing me to take you away from work for a moment. Now, Hawks, if you would like to share your opinion first?”
The pro sat back in his chair, legs crossed and glasses perched on his eyes. You secretly liked it when he wore glasses. “I think it’s a perfect idea,” he said with a shrug. “As I’m sure all of you know, my agency is open to all new talent, whether they graduated from UA or not. We don’t discriminate against anyone with a particular quirk or education. As long as they are willing to learn, respect our rules, and participate in training, we will hire them.”
“But what if the public has concerns about who we hire and whether they will be able to effectively do their jobs with no UA education or license?” one of the Indeed associates asked. Hawks smiled. “I’m glad you asked that.” He nodded at you, smiling warmly. “Y/N, would you mind answering this question? After all, it’s your wonderful brain that came out with such a well-thought-out plan for this.”
Though you flushed at the compliment, you pushed those butterflies away and stood. “This agency is not new to the scrutiny of the public,” you explain, poised and calm. “Hawks and Nezu-san are proposing the opening of a new pro hero license program for those who cannot afford UA or are over the age of 18. This program would include…” You continued just as you rehearsed, not looking at Hawks who looked dead at you, almost as if he was staring through your clothes.
When you finally finished, you sat and Nezu thanked you for your well-spoken words. “What is your opinion on that, Hawks?” he asked. The pro didn’t answer, too busy staring at you. Now his eyes were hooded and looked slightly sharper than they were before. You squirmed uncomfortably in your seat, mostly because of how warm his stare made you.
“Hawks!” Rumi hisses in his ear. The blonde blinked, snapping out of it. “Huh?” he dumbly asked, looking up at the screen. “Are you alright?” Nezu worriedly asked. Everyone was staring at him, including you. He had never acted like this before. “Yeah, just…” He paused, clearing his throat as a flush appeared on his cheeks. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”
Nezu repeated himself, asking for Hawks’ opinion on the internship program and when he’d prefer to announce it. “It is the spring already, but I believe the summer is when most of my student body will be looking to do internships,” he explained.
You watched as Hawks’ eyes grew wide at the mention of spring, but he did his best to keep it lowkey. But you noticed. “U-Uh, yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll do it in April.” You also noticed his body language for the rest of the meeting: his knee bouncing anxiously; his eyes flicking from yours to back at the screen or down at his papers; his cheeks flushed red.
Was he sick? Was it the coffee you made? After the meeting, Rumi confronted him on it, grabbing his elbow. “Hey, what the hell happened in there?” she asked. “You looked like you were about to deck Y/N!”
“I…sorry,” he huffed. “I just…” He paused, seeing you and his eyes roamed over your lower body in your pencil skirt. “I need to go to the bathroom,” he quickly replied before rushing off to his office. You followed him. You don’t know why you did. Maybe you felt obligated to do so as if his assistant. Maybe you just needed to make sure he was okay.
So you knocked on his door, tentatively so. “Come in,” he raggedly said. You opened the door and automatically closed it behind you. Hawks leaned against his desk, his back to you, breathing concerningly hard like he just got off the treadmill.
“Mr. Takami?” you questioned. Your heels clicked against the hardwood floor as you walked farther into his spacious, high-rise office. “Hawks, is everything alright?” Hawks didn’t look at you as he spoke: “Y-Yeah,” he replied, still sounding winded. “What’s up?”
You stood two feet away from him, afraid to get near. You didn’t want to spook him or cross any boundaries. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be writing a ‘thank you’ email on your behalf to Nezu-san and the Indeed associates,” you lied though you were planning on doing that anyway.
But Hawks shook his head. “Don’t bother. You did a good job today, Y/N.” His voice sounded so off. It was usually light and syrupy, but now it sounded deep and raspy. It did things to you.
“Did I do something wrong?” you blurted, confused at his strange behavior. The blonde quickly shook his head, turning slightly towards you. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off his forearms and the feather tattoo on the inside of his left wrist. “No, no, of course not!” he protested. “I’m just…not feeling well.”
“Well, you know you can always go home,” you said. “We can hold down the fort here like we always do.” Finally, Hawks turned around and you saw how flushed he looked, his cheeks a rouge hue. He gave a smile that felt too intimate. Too adoring. “Thank you,” he sighed. “That’s so like you. Always so professional. Always so sweet.”
He took a step toward you and instinctively, you took a step back. “M-Mr. Takami?” you weakly asked. He continued to walk to you until you finally stood with your back to the wall, unable to escape him. His cologne clouded your senses, the scent of sweet and spicy invading your nostrils as he stopped in front of you.
“Y/N,” he began, his voice breathlessly and soft. “I…” He stopped, raising his hand to touch you. And then he stopped, dropping his hand and using it to cover his mouth instead. “I-I’m sorry,” he muffingly said. “You should go. I don’t wanna get you sick.”
Quickly, he reached beside you with his free hand and opened the door. The sound of chatter, coffee machines, and ringing phones smacked you back to reality. “You should go,” he said, his eyes willing you to do so. So you did and he shut the door in your face, leaving you feeling breathlessly and hot.
That was over a week ago. After the work day, Hawks headed home and sent out a staff meeting the next morning about being out because of a “spring cold”, but he’d be back soon. “Soon” hasn’t come yet. You haven’t heard anything from him in days!
It’s starting to worry you. A spring cold can’t last this long. Is it the flu? Is it something else? Plus, no one can seem to get in contact with him. What if something bad happened to him?
These worrying thoughts swim in your head all week every time you see Hawks’ empty office.
Finally, you reach your breaking point. You’re not going to call, text, or email him. You’re going to be a good assistant and instead, bring him something to let him know that you’re checking on him. Something to make him feel better. So on Friday, you leave work after your shift and stop by your favorite cafe to buy a bowl of their best chicken noodle soup.
You then drive to Hawks’ penthouse on the Upper East side of the city having kept his address to deliver things from work to his house if need be. When you park your car, you walk to the front door and click a button to buzz to his room. At first, nothing happens, so you press it again. Finally, on the third buzz, someone answers.
“Yeah?” a deep, raspy, growly voice barks. It startles you. “Uh…I’m sorry, do I have the wrong room?” you ask. “I’m looking for Keigo Takami.” The other end of the line pauses and you think that they left. “Y/N?” they ask, sounding shocked. “Why are you here?”
You blink at the speaker, shocked that this is your boss talking to you. Why does he sound like that? Is he that hoarse? “I came to give you some soup,” you say, suddenly shy. “I haven’t heard from you in days, so I bought this just to let up your spirits. That must be some cold.”
You wait for a response, but when he never gives it to you, you begin to feel stupid. This was a mistake. “Well, I’m gonna go now, but I’ll give it to your doorman so he can–”
“Don’t,” Hawks interrupts though he still sounds strained. “Come up.” You scowl in confusion, wondering if you misheard that, but then his doorman is meeting you at the front door to guide you to the elevator up to Hawks’ penthouse with the soup.
You take the elevator up, your heart pounding and your hands shaking slightly as they hold the soup. You almost explode from your nerves when you finally make it upstairs and the doors open, revealing Hawks’ beautiful, luxurious, and empty penthouse with an included gameroom, private gym, balcony, pool, mini bar, and expensive-looking kitchen. But he is nowhere to be found.
You walk further into the living room, your heels clicking across the hardwood floor. “Hawks?” you call. You don’t get any answer right away. The home is uncomfortably silent, making you feel paranoid. “Hawks!” you call again, louder this time. “Where are you?”
“Upstairs!” he rasps from the staircase leading to the upper floor. “Don’t come up here!” He sounds so pained. In such agony. You place the soup on the counter, confused and worried. What’s going on? Why does he sound like he’s in trouble?
Not listening at all to your boss’ warning, you slowly head up the steps, taking each tentative step further up in your heels. The hallway is dark when you finally make it upstairs, the only door open being the one at the end of the hallway. It is cracked and through it, you hear the sound of your boss’ soft pants and grunts of pain. Hawks’ bedroom.
Though something inside of you is telling you to turn around, you persevere and walk towards the bedroom. Slowly, you push the door open, revealing a dark masterbedroom with drawn curtains blocking out the outside world. “Hawks?” you tentatively question. “It’s just me. I just came to–”
“Go away!” he bellows from inside. “I told you not to come up here!” You jump, startled by the volume of his voice. He’s never yelled at you in such a way. You poke your head inside and gasp at the absolute mess of his bedroom: furniture askew; clothes and empty water bottles discarded on the floor; a rumbled mess of red sheets on the bed.
The smell in the air is thick with sweat and something else. Something tropical. Coconut oil? You look towards the king-sized bed where a heap sits hunched under the sheets which move up and down as it pants heavily. You thought it was just a pile of clothes at first, but no. There’s something under there.
“Hawks?” you question, your voice wavering in fear. The strange heap stirs, reacting to your voice. It breathes raggedly, almost as if it can’t get enough air in its lungs. “Hawks, what’s going on?” you demand. “Tell me. I want to help you.”
But he turns away, the sheets shifting as he does. “You can’t,” he whines. “You can’t.” Not being able to take how he sounds anymore, you storm over to the bed and snatch the sheets off of him. There, under the covers, you see your boss with your own two eyes. “H-Hawks?” you whisper. “Is that you?”
You almost can’t believe it. He has gotten much bigger in the past couple of days since you’ve last seen him, his muscles almost bulging. His pecs are ridiculously big, his nipples hard and perky, and veins protrude from his forearms and hands. Speaking of hands, they barely resemble human hands anymore. Red feathers sprout from his skin and long, sharp talons have grown out of his fingernails like knives.
When he looks at you, his face is flushed and his eyes are nothing more than red slits, those warm, golden irises gone. But all of those things aren’t even the most shocking to you. You are more shocked by the size of his wings. They have doubled in size, nearly taking up the entirety of the bed, and are red as the purest blood. His feathers shake and ruffle as if someone has run their fingers through them, disturbing their peace.
He looks shocked to see you and then embarrassed. “I didn’t want you comin’ up here,” he pants. “Didn’t want you seein’ me like…this.” He shifts and sits up so the sheet falls off of him, revealing his naked body to you. He is flushed and coated in sweat all over his tan skin and toned muscles. Your eyes trail down his abs and V-line to his cock which is way too obvious to look away from.
He is big and throbbing, the head a blush red and dripping in precum. One mouth-watering, angry vein trails from his shaft up to the head of his cock that twitches. Hawks winces, not looking like he is enjoying this at all. In fact, he looks like he’s in complete agony. You can’t be embarrassed or mortified by this when he looks so awful. “W-What happened to you?” you softly gasp.
He covers his throbbing dick with the sheet, but it’s no use. You can still see it protruding from underneath it, creating an obvious tent. “I’m in heat,” he sighs. “It’s what us mammals go through around this time. A spring thing.”
He wipes the sweat off of his forehead, his blonde hair soaked in it. “That’s why I’ve been hiding,” he explains. “I’ve been here tryna get through this, but I just…can’t!”
He grabs at his hair, running his hands through it. Now you understand it: his absence; the transformation; the smell of coconut oil in the air. You feel yourself blush, feeling hot in your clothes. All of this because he’s horny?
“How long does it last?” you curiously ask, but you’re not even sure you want to know. Hawks sighs, looking doomed. “Either a day or months depending on if my heat is satisfied.”
“Months?” you gasp. “Are you in pain?”
Hawks’ face screws up, triggering something in your core. “Terrible, baby,” he groans, wrapping a hand around his cock, his talons long enough to curl around the entire thing...and he’s at least 12 inches. “I can’t even sleep. I’ve been up for days, sweatin’ through my sheets and tryin’ to cum as many times as I can.” He releases himself and looks down at his hands, clenching them. “But my hands don’t do it for me anymore and I broke my fuckin’ toy.”
He nods at the fleshlight you didn’t even notice lying near his nightstand, completely broken in half. He completely tore that pussy out the frame, you realize in shock. What the fuck could he do to a real one? “O-Oh,” you exhale.
“Yeah,” he sighs, running his hand down his sweaty face. “I’m sorry about this, Y/N, really. I didn’t want anyone seein’ me like this.” He looks away from you, appearing so utterly humiliated and ashamed that it pains you. You find yourself not liking him like this: so utterly downtrodden and hopeless. “What can I do?” you blurt.
He faces you, his slitted eyes widening. “What?” he gasps. “What do you–”
“I wanna help you, Hawks,” you cut in, already taking off your cardigan to reveal your pretty, pink blouse underneath that you paired with a skirt. “What can I do to help you get through this?”
He watches you, looking completely stunned and mortified, but his cock also twitches at the sight of your outfit. “No, no, baby, no,” he protests. “Y-You can’t…you don’t need to do this.” But you stand firm on your decision, refusing to leave him like this. “I know I don’t need to,” you firmly respond. “I want to. Just look at you! I can’t let you go on like this.”
Hawks still doesn’t move, but his cock begins to leak pre for you, dripping down his thick thighs and onto the mattress. The sight is so lewd but so arousing, making your pussy throb indeciently in your panties. You shouldn’t be doing this. There are so many consequences you could face from this…but you also find that you don’t care right now. “Let me help you, Hawks,” you whisper. “Just tell me what I need to do to help you. I’m your assistant, after all.”
A fire explodes behind Hawks’ eyes, lit with lust and need. A low growl leaves his chest and you find that he has fangs in his mouth. The sight scares and thrills you. “You wanna help me?” he asks in his low, deep voice. “Then take off your clothes.”
You swallow hard, feeling like you just dry-swallowed a gigantic pill. You start with your blouse, your painted fingernails teasing the buttons before you begin to pop them open one by one. You expose your lacy bra to him, one of your favorites because of how it makes your breasts look: pretty, juicy, and appetizing with the lace trim of the cups adorning them.
You peel off the blouse and let it fall to your feet. Hawks barely notices it, too busy staring dead at your chest. He slowly begins to pump his cock with his hand, lewd, wet sounds of his pre and coconut oil acting as lubricants drifting to your ears. Under his laser-eyed gaze, you feel like an animal being watched behind a cage. A specimen. It makes you feel slightly uncomfortable, but also hot and bothered to see that you’re affecting him so deeply.
You then move to your skirt and begin to unzip it, but Hawks puts a hand out to stop you. “Slowly, mama,” he raggedly says. “Don’t rush this.” Biting your lip, you slowly drag the zipper down and then slide the skirt off of your waist, leaving you in just your matching bra and panties. You go to take off your stockings and heels, but he stops you. “Leave ‘em on,” he demands.
So you stand there, arms at your sides and trembling like a leaf. “Turn around,” he orders, his pink lips parted as he continues to fuck his hand nice and slow. You listen and turn, exposing your ass to him. “Ah, shit,” he hisses, soft pants leaving his lips. “I knew you had a nice ass.”
You bite your lip, feeling your pussy flutter and throb impatiently. “Sit on the bed and bend over for me,” he orders. “I’m not gonna touch you. I just wanna see you rub that pussy for me, okay?”
You turn around, staring down at your shoes. “Yes, sir,” you whisper and flush at your words. They just came out of you, as naturally as breathing.
Hawks shudders, affected by your reply. “Such a good girl,” he sighs dreamily. “I’ll definitely take that over just ‘Hawks’ right now. But ‘Keigo’ works too.” Your face grows hot with a blush, having never referred to him by his first name before. Not wanting to waste his time, you slowly get on the bed and face away from him, your feet tucked under your butt.
Then you bend over for him, your back arched. “Yes, that’s it,” he encourages, softly panting and the move bouncing slightly from his ministrations on himself. “Pull those panties to the side, baby. Let me see you.” Biting your lip so hard that you’re sure to draw blood, you pull the thin strip of cotton covering your sodden, wet, puffy pussy to the side and expose all of you to him.
Hawks shudderingly moans at the sight of the wet strand of your arousal connected from your pussy lips to your panties. “God, mama,” he groans. “You have the prettiest pussy. Look how wet you are!” He growls once more, sounding so much like an animal. “You like what you’re doin’ to me?” You can tell he’s started to stroke himself harder, faster, his pants and heavy breaths becoming more intense. “Keigo,” you softly whimper.
You’ve never been this horny before. Your pussy is about to slide off the bone with how wet it is.
“That’s right, say my name,” he groans. “Play with your pussy, baby. Don’t let me do this alone.”
So you do. You sneak your hand down your ass, teasing him before you begin to rub your cunt for him in time with his strokes. A weak moan leaves your lips as you rub your clit in tiny, firm circles, your ministrations impassioned by the sounds leaving Hawks’ lips. He sounds so desperate. So slutty as he pumps his cock, imagining that he’s doing so to your pretty, little pussy. “So fuckin’ cute,” he says, agonized at your beauty and sexiness. “How the fuck are you this adorable?”
You want to look back and see him, but you get the feeling that he doesn’t want to be watched, so you instead close your eyes and drift away at the sounds of his moans and his lubed cock fucking his hand, making the bed bounce slightly underneath you. You imagine that he’s fucking you like that, his big hands gripping your ass and talons digging into the fleshy part of your ass cheeks. You can almost feel his cock stretching you out, pumping you full again and again as he uses you, doing his best to not break you like he did his fleshlight.
Finally, you can’t take it anymore. “K-Keigo!” you whine. “Fuck, I’m about to cum!” Hawks groans at your warning, happy to hear this. “Uh-huh,” he pants. “Do it for me, baby. Cum all over those fingers for me.”
And you do. You rub and flick your clit until it can’t take any more stimulation and explodes all over your hand. Your sweet moans of release push Hawks over the edge. “Fuck!” he bellows, his voice bouncing off of the walls as he cums in his hand, shooting warm cum all over his thighs and stomach. Your moans and whines mix with one another, creating a symphony of pleasure as you both cum together.
When the high of your orgasms finally fades, you both sit there for a moment, panting and sitting in the reality of your situation. “I…I’m sorry,” Hawks awkwardly huffs.
You don’t answer, unsure of what to say until you turn around and find that he’s still hard. “Keigo!” you gasp. “Y-You’re still–”
“I know,” he sighs, frustration evident in his handsome face. “Like I said, my hands ain’t doin’ it for me at this point. I need more.”
His slitted eyes, red as crimson blood, narrow at you, a deeper meaning in his words. You gulp, weighing your options but only briefly. You realize you’re thinking more with your pussy than with your head, but the curiosity of feeling Hawks’ wings wrapped around you while he fucks you is too tempting.
“Keigo, it’s okay,” you softly purr, putting a hand on his thigh. He flinches as if your touch burns him. “We can do more if you need it.” You then dip your fingers between your thighs and come back with them dripping in your cum. His cock twitches at the sight, but he doesn’t have to imagine how you taste for too long.
You lean forward and put your fingers to his lips. “Use me,” you say, a plea in your voice. “I’m all yours.”
Right then, something in Hawks snaps the moment he wraps his lips around your fingers and greedily sucks your cum off of them. He is no longer entirely human, his animal instincts taking over. He snatches you up and places you in his lap, emitting a small gasp from you at being yanked up so forcefully. “Just tell me ‘no’ if you want me to stop,” he orders. “And tap my thigh three times if I got my cock in that mouth. Understand me?”
Unable to reply, you wordlessly nod. That’s enough for him. Immediately, he’s on you, pressing a rough yet passionate kiss to your lips, nibbling on your bottom lip and swirling his tongue with yours. His kiss is brutal yet hot; forceful yet careful as he wraps you up in his arms and soft wings. It’s the best kiss you’ve had in your life.
And the sex he gives you by far trumps all of the other bedroom adventures you’ve had. You’re so glad he gave you a non-verbal safety precaution because Hawks takes the “use” thing literally when he finally gets his dick down your throat. He is as big and thick as he looks, your fingers barely being able to wrap around his girty, throbbing shaft.
You have to cover his cock in copious amounts of spit and coconut oil just to make it easier to stroke him, Hawks’ crimson, lustful eyes and soft moans encouraging you. “That’s it, baby bird,” he growls, one clawed hand in your hair. “Take me nice and easy.” Though he allows you to slowly take his cock down your throat, it doesn’t do much to ease the stretch of your jaw.
Unfortunately for you, Hawks’ heat gets the best of him and his impatience rises, making your time to adjust to his size shorter. When he grabs your hair and begins to fuck your face, you have no choice but to take it. He shoves his cock so deep down your throat that your eyes burn with tears and embarrassing, wet gagging sounds leave your mouth as you gurgle around his cock that throbs and pulses in your mouth.
“Thaaat’s my girl,” Hawks grunts, staring down at you throating his dick. “You’re takin’ this dick like a champ, baby bird, y’know. You could make this a profession if workin’ as an assistant don’t work out.” He takes his cock out and taps it against your tongue, loving how slutty you look for him with your tongue hanging out and makeup a mess.
“Or you could add this to your duties of bein’ my little assistant,” he hums, smearing his cockhead across your plump lips. “You could fetch my coffee and take this dick over my desk every workday. How would that sound?” He doesn’t allow you to answer as he grabs you again and forces you down onto his cock, groaning at how amazing your wet tongue and soft mouth feel. “God!” he groans. “I hope your pussy is this fuckin’ tight.”
His curiosity gets the best of him. After a few minutes of fucking your throat like it’s a toy, he pulls out with a moan, giving you heart eyes at the image of your messy hair and sloppy mouth dripping in spit. He holds your face in his big hands, his talons gently caressing your cheeks. “On your back,” he orders. You must go too slow for him because he tosses you down onto your backside himself and quickly ducks between your thighs, his big, feathered hands parting them.
“K-Keigo,” you stammer, but that’s all you can get out before he’s cutting the waistband of your panties off with his teeth and sliding his big, fat, wet tongue all over your slit.
All words cease to exist as pleasure washes over you which only builds the more his tongue swirls against your clit and inside of you. Your eyes widen and your hands dig into the skin of his muscular back that flexes as he dips his head low to eat you out. His soft wings caress your skin as they wrap around you, making you feel like you’re being pampered from all ends.
Hawks knows how to run his mouth, but also knows how to work it. His tongue moves magically inside of you, slurping up your juices as his nose and soft lips bump against your clit. You grind your hips up into him, meeting his tongue thrusts while his talons dig into the fleshy parts of your ass.
You can’t keep quiet, too enveloped in the ecstasy you’re feeling. “God, yes, Keigo!” you whine, bucking your hips up. “That feels so fuckin’ good! Keep going, please, ooooh, shit!”
Hawks gladly takes all of those lovely sounds, moaning into your cunt. He is a rapid, ravenous animal, slurping up your pussy like he’s yearning for it. “So good,” he whines into your clit. “So fuckin’ good.”
Your orgasm comes rather quickly, that knot in your core threatening to snap as he continues to work his tongue in and out of you. “Fuck, Kei!” you sob. “I’m gonna fuckin’ cum! Please let me cum, sir please!”
“Mmm-hmm,” Keigo hums, sucking gently on your pussy lips. “Do it for me, baby bird. Cum all over my fucking face.” He goes back to eating you out, moving his tongue against that little spot up and inside of you that makes you see stars. “Do it,” he growls in his deep, gravelly voice. “Fuckin’ cum for me. Give it to me now!”
A scream erupts from you–”Oh, shit!”–as you explode all over Hawks’ tongue. He moans in release with you as he slurps and laps you up, drinking in all that give him while you buck and writhe under his hands. Even when the orgasm high fades, he doesn’t stop. He continues to eat you out even as your pussy and body twitches. “O-Okay, Hawks,” you stammer. “Please, ah, please stop. I-I can’t…oh, my God!”
Tears prick your eyes as the agonizing pleasure continues, swallowing you whole. His crimson eyes stare up into yours between your thighs, loving how desperate and pathetically horny you look as you writhe against his tongue. But as good as you taste, he needs to know how you feel. So he hikes himself up on top of you, his big body covering your smaller one, and his wings creating a curtain around you.
“I’m gonna be honest with you, baby,” he pants. “I need to fuck you now and when I do, I ain’t gonna be nice. I need to cum as many times as it takes to ease this heat and that could be hours. You sure you’re okay with that?” Despite his obvious need, he is holding back, his cock throbbing against your thigh.
Knowing that, you nod and press a kiss to his lips. “Yes, Keigo,” you purr. “I want this too.” You give him a smile, pretty and seductive. “So fuck me.”
The pro doesn’t need to be told twice. He starts by fucking you on your back, your knees tucked up into your chest. You’re happy for the lubricant and orgasm because it is a stretch. His cock stretches your pussy out in a way it didn’t do to your jaw, making your mouth go slack and your eyes widen. “Relax, mama,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your face while he rubs your clit. “You’re doin’ so well takin’ me.”
After a few minutes of adjusting and slow strokes, Hawks feels you relax around him and finally begins to pound you like he needs to. He fucks you into the mattress that shakes and bounces beneath you, making your tits bounce in time with his thrusts. Each pump of his thick cock sends sparks of pleasure throughout your body as your soft, spongy pussy walls stretch and mold into his shape.
“O-Oh, my God!” you cry, grasping his shoulders as he takes you straight to poundtown. “Fuck, Keigo, yes, baby! Fuck me just like that!”
The winged pro grips your thighs and pins them down to the bed, giving you a stretch that yoga couldn’t even do. “Just like that?” he teasingly asks, smirking down at you. “Look at you takin’ this dick like a champ, baby bird. Bet you couldn’t wait for your boss to fuck you, huh?”
You whine in response, earning a tongue shoved in your mouth as Hawks gives you a wet French kiss while he pounds into you. He nuzzles his nose into your neck next, covering himself in your scent and you in his.
You’re so deep in the pleasure that you don’t even realize that Hawks’ feathers, sharpened to the touch, cut off your bra until you feel the cool air on your nipples and then pleasure as he stimulates them with his feathers.
When he begins to get closer, his crimson eyes glow red and the black rimming his eyes grows sharper like a hawk’s. You feel scared yet aroused at the same time, your pussy clenching around his cock. “I’m gonna cum, baby,” he grunts. “Gonna fill you up. Want you to fuckin’ cum with me too!”
“Fuck, Hawks!” you whine, tossing your head back against the pillow. Your second orgasm erupts and sends you on a trip while Keigo fucks you like he’s trying to hit a home run. When he cums, he does so with an animalistic grunt and grips your hips so hard that they bruise. He tosses his blonde hair back, every muscle in his body tense from the pleasure. You gasp as he fills you up with his cum, feeling warmth flooding inside of you. It feels good to be full, you realize.
But even when the orgasm fades and he has successfully filled you up, Hawks looks down at you with an increased level of need and lust that shakes you. “I ain’t done with you yet,” he growls.
And he’s not. He fucks you in every single position imaginable. He fucks you doggy style, his cock pumping into you again and again while he yanks on your hair and dirty talks in your ear.
“You my little slut?” he pants, his hand grabbing and smacking your ass. “You love gettin’ fucked by me? You love this number 2 pro hero dick, don’t you, baby?” You can only whine in response, words and logical thoughts completely gone as he turns your pussy into mush.
He fucks you on your side, his big body spooning yours and red wings wrapped around you as his throbbing cock drives inside of you. In this position, it’s easier to rub your clit and tilt your head back to kiss him, the two of you sharing breath as you hotly pant and moan into each other’s mouths.
He fucks you with your head hanging off the bed and your leg pinned up to get a better angle at your G-spot and to drive himself deeper into you.
He fucks you in mating press, his feet on the bed as he mounts you and drives himself inside of you like he’s trying hard to breed you.
He fucks you in full nelson.
In prone bone, his hands massaging your ass.
While standing up, you bouncing like a cute little fuck bunny in his arms on his dick.
From the bottom while you ride him, both from the front and the back, his hands groping your bouncing tits and jiggling ass.
“Mine,” he growls to you in every position known to bed that he puts you in. “You’re fuckin’ mine, baby bird. Only mine.”
And in every single position, he makes you and himself cum. He seems to always know how to trigger your orgasm so you cum again and again. He then uses your tight walls to chase his orgasms, cumming inside of you and filling up over and over again. He makes you sweat out your hair and your makeup, making you look like the sexiest Goddess to him as you take his cock like it’s your job.
By the time he finally finishes, hours have passed and you are spent. Your body aches. You are wet with sweat and cum. Your pussy twitches and is sloppy with his and your cum mixed together, all of it dripping down your thighs and through the crack of your ass.
Hawks, finally back to his normal self, lies down next to you and snuggles you into his chest. “Thank you for doin’ that,” he sighs, pecking you on the forehead. “You did so, so well for me, honey. I hope a dinner date can make up for that workout.”
You only mewl tiredly in response, but you wrap your arms around him and snuggle into his chest. He chuckles, the sound pleasant to your ear pressed against his heart. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he sighs.
And then you sleep, satisfied and comfortable finally.
THE END.
#hawks x black reader#hawks x black!reader#hawks smut#keigo aka my husband#keigo takami x black reader#black fanfic writer#smutty smut#my works#black coded reader#bnha smut#black writers#keigo takami#tw monsterfucking
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Into the Woods
summary: in nature & deepthroating || you just can't resist aemond after he's been riding
pairing: aemond x f!reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, public kind of (they’re in the middle of the woods and no one shows up but it’s still public ig???), dirty talk, deepthroating, gagging on a cock, oral sex (m receiving), cum, swallowing cum, brief spitting, crying but it’s good, allusions to oral sex (f receiving), aemond treating vhagar like an oversized housecat, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 1.9k
a/n: happy day six of 12 days of smuff! halfway there!!! i hope y'all enjoy this, frankly, depraved one!
12 days of smuff masterlist!
gif creds to @hoosbandewan!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
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“And one more step, sweetling,” Aemond says from behind you, his hands firmly on your waist as he helps you climb down from Vhagar’s enormous saddle. Finally, both of your feet touch the earth once more; you can’t help but let out a relieved sigh, no matter how many times you ride Vhagar with your husband, you’re always thankful to make it to the ground in one piece. “There we are,” he says with a smile, spinning you around and sweetly pressing his lips against yours, “Perfect, as always.”
Even after so many years together, you still blush at his compliments. “You were right about going riding today,” you admit with a small sigh, thinking back to him finally convincing you to accompany him earlier that morning, “It was absolutely breathtaking as usual.”
Aemond merely smiles and leans in to kiss your forehead, lilac eye soft as it meets yours, “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, my love.”
Finally, he turns to Vhagar with a bright smile, the only time he ever smiled fully, with his teeth. “Se ao gōntan rōvēgrie tubī tolī, ñuha gevie riña,” he said brightly, stroking his hands along her rough scales as if he were petting an enormous cat, “Kirimvose, Vhagar.” He whispers, downright reverently, and rests his forehead against her for a moment, as if he were trying to communicate telepathically with the giant beast. (“And you did great today too, my beautiful girl.”) (“Thank you, Vhagar.”)
And for all you know, maybe they are, for it‘s at that moment that Vhagar grumbles contentedly, the pattern of it familiar to you now. She swings her massive head around to sniff Aemond, huffing in a way that sounds pleased, even to you, like she’s just as happy being with him as he is with her.
Finally, her huge, breathtaking orange eyes fix themselves on you. Your heart leaps in your chest, it always does, and you can’t imagine there will come a day when it doesn’t. Steadying your breath, you lift your arm in the smooth, calm way Aemond showed you many years ago, and extend your hand out. Your breath catches as she leans in and you glance at Aemond, who is still rubbing away at her side and murmuring Valyrian praises, a soft smile on his face. Vhagar huffs as she sniffs your hand, her warm breath fanning over your arm, before another loud purr rumbles through her, evidently pleased with you in some way you’ll never understand, before turning her head back around and resting it against the forest floor, an indication that she’s done for the day.
Aemond pulls away from her with a sigh, patting her once more before taking your arm and leading you from the massive forest clearing in which the dragon resides. “It’s a pity she’s too large for the Dragonpit,” you say sadly as you and your husband walk hand-in-hand down the narrow, winding path that leads back to the Red Keep, “I hope she doesn’t get lonely out here.”
Aemond huffs out a small laugh, smiling as he turns his gaze toward you for a second. “Truthfully, I think she likes it out here,” he murmurs thoughtfully, “She needs some solitude, I believe.”
“She’s very much like her rider in that way,” you smile, bumping your shoulder against his, “Always needing alone time.”
Aemond is quiet for a second, sinking into that contemplative silence he so often went to after a long day. Just when you’re ready to accept that the rest of the walk back would be done in silence, he speaks again. “Never from you, though, my love.” He says lowly, squeezing your arm a bit tighter as he does.
You look over at him with a soft smile, the evening sun shining through the canopy of leaves overhead lights his pale hair in a golden halo, making him look every bit as ethereal as the Targaryen’s are rumored to be.
The light in his hair makes you think back to earlier that day, makes you think of every time you’ve ridden Vhagar with him. You think of how commanding he is on the saddle, how regal and elegant he looks with the breeze blowing through his long hair. How free he looks, how happy. On dragonback is truly where your beautiful husband shines, where he’s most himself.
It makes a familiar heat burst to life within you.
Suddenly, you feel nearly dizzy with how badly you need him. How badly you need to please him, to worship him like he’s one of the Gods.
Unable to contain yourself further, you come to a quick stop before pressing him back against the thick trunk of a tree, catching him so off guard that he has no time to react and lands with a soft thud against the bark.
“What — ?” He hardly has time to voice the question before you’re pressing your lips against his desperately, letting out a shuddering, high-pitched moan as you press yourself against him. The kiss is more teeth and tongues than anything else, Aemond determined to keep pace with you as he pulls you ever tighter against him, his length already hardening in his leather riding trousers at your eagerness.
Finally, you pull away from him with a soft, shy smile, teeth biting into your lower lip. “Where in the Seven is this coming from?” Aemond asks, peering at you with amusement.
“I need you,” you nearly whimper, grabbing at his leather tunic, “Now.”
His eye widens, glancing around the forest before flicking back to you, “What, here?” You merely nod, and he huffs out a small laugh, “Sweetling, why not wait until we’re back in our —.”
“I can’t,” you sigh, cutting him off yet again as you trail kisses down his jaw and neck, “Need you now.” You murmur before sinking to your knees, though you don’t miss the way his eye darkens as your knees plant themselves against the earth.
“Fuck,” he mutters, fingers immediately running through your hair, smoothing it out in the way he always does, “My love —.” He starts again, and you can sense the refute coming.
“Aemond, if I don’t, I fear I’ll die.”
“You’ll die?” He laughs, blushing despite himself, as he cups your cheek gently in one hand, sighing as you lean in and press warm kisses against the outline of his hard cock through his pants, “We definitely don’t want that… get on with it.” He pants, lightly tapping your cheek in a way that makes your eyes flutter, the casual dominance of it sending you into a tailspin.
Your hands shake with need as you quickly unlace his breeches, your groan almost as loud as his when his hard length springs out, his cock already throbbing and dripping before you even wrap your hand around him.
You peer up at him through your lashes as you finally grasp his length, whimpering at the way it twitches against your palm.
Just as you’re about to lean in and lick the tip, he stops you with another gentle tap against your cheek, “Open.” He commands simply, and you blush deeply as you comply, opening your mouth in a perfect O shape as you look up at him. You watch as he gathers spit in his mouth before he leans forward and nearly connects your lips before spitting harshly into your mouth, chuckling at the breathy moan you let out as it settles against your tongue, “Good girl, sweetling.”
His simple praise is enough to have your center aching and you continue with more determination as you wrap your lips around the head and suck gently, using your hand to stroke his length as you do.
The effect is instantaneous, a proud heat stirring in your belly as Aemond’s head falls back against the tree, his Adam’s apple bobbing deliciously as he lets out a gruff moan. His fingers twine through your hair as you begin bobbing your head over his length, slowly taking more and more of him into your mouth, savoring the heavy feeling of him resting against your tongue.
You focus on breathing through your nose as you take as much of him into your mouth as you can, until your nose rests firmly against the warm skin at the base of his cock. His length swells into your throat, making your eyes water as you look up at him, watching the way his chest heaves as you try not to gag.
Finally, he looks back down at you and growls low in his chest, resting a hand on the back of your head as you work your mouth over his cock, not enough to push your head down but enough to remind you he’s there.
You moan around him, one hand braced against one of his thighs while the other comes up to cup his stones, gently kneading them in time with your gags around his length, a few tears streaming down your cheeks as you let him prod at the back of your throat.
“Gods,” he rasps, sucking in air through his teeth, “You want me to breed that sweet little throat, my love?” He asks, his voice low, nearly menacing, as he gazes down at you, lilac eye almost black enough to match the patch that covers the other one.
You nod around him as best you can, determined to keep him in the back of your throat until he meets his end and, lucky for you, that doesn’t seem too far off.
“Sweetling,” he rasps, fingers tightening in the hair at the back of your head as he ruts his hips against you, spearing your mouth somehow further down on his cock, a handful of times before he groans loudly, eye rolling back in his head as his length pulses in the back of your throat, his spend pouring into you.
Your eyes water as you take all he has to give, fingernails digging into the leather covering his thighs as you swallow around him. Finally, he relaxes and you pull off of him and suck in deep lungfuls of air, coughing a little as you wipe a hand over your mouth.
Aemond pulls you up to him, cupping your cheeks gently as his thumbs wipe away your tears. “Oh, my sweet girl,” he whispers reverently, eye sweeping over your face as he takes in your flushed cheeks and rosy lips, “You did so well for me.”
“I always hope to please you, husband,” you say with a soft smile, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips before sighing as he trails kisses down your jaw and throat.
Before you know what’s happening, he whirls you around, pressing your back against the thick tree where he once was. You open your lips to ask what he’s doing but he silences you with another kiss.
You gasp as he sinks to his knees in front of you, a mischievous smirk on his face as he pulls up the skirts of your gown. “So well, in fact,” he starts, pressing kisses up the inside of your thigh, “That I think my good girl needs a reward.”
Any reply you had waiting dies on your lips as a moan escapes you at the first swipe of his deft tongue against your soaked core, your hands tangling in his hair in the same way his had in yours. Yes, you thought as you tilted your head back against the tree, The Targaryen’s are absolutely sent from the heavens.
tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel
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#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond x reader#aemond x you#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen smut#aemond fanfiction#aemond fanfic#aemond smut#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon smut#hotd fanfiction#hotd fanfic#hotd smut#my writing#12 days of smuff
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