#i was so ready to go to bed like an hour later than usual and then aabria said 'you maybe want someone with you on your side of the table?'

[chithereader]

playing it cool / aaron hotchner

[credits to the owners of these photos!!]

word count: 1.9k

pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader

genre: fluff!!!!!!

cw: sickeningly sweet and soft aaron x reader, so much of aaron’s thoughts because we know that man thinks soo much more than he speaks!!

a/n: hiiii this is my third post so far and tbh i was so nervous to post the first two as that was my first time ever posting any of my writings anywhere!! but i’ve been getting so much more love on those than expected and i just really wanted to say thank you so much for all the likes and reblogs <33 i was honestly only expecting less than 10 notes as a newbie and reaching up to 200 is so so so wonderful. and especially for the love of hotch i– ugh!!!!! i already love u all 

The team had worked a straight 5 weeks worth of cases prior, which had warranted Strauss to grant them all a mandatory 3-day rest. This simply meant that for 3 whole days there are no cases, no deadlines, and no new case files. They could come to the office at whatever time they’d like as long as they finished some reports at the end of the day. 

Aaron being Hotch the boss man still aimed to arrive at the office at a reasonable time– 7:30am. To be fair, this is an hour and a half later than when he usually arrives at the office. And in his mind, the earlier he arrives, the more he can get done, and the more he gets done, the earlier he can come home. 

This is the only reason why he is up at 6:00am on a supposed rest day. He did expect that he’d struggle a bit more to drag himself out of bed, knowing you’d be keeping him hostage with limbs that wrap around him in ways he can’t begin to understand, but to his surprise, you weren’t there. 

Dragging his feet across the carpeted floor, his pajama pants hanging low on his hips and white shirt fitting him oh-so-snugly, he tries to find you. He’s rubbing the sleep of his eyes as he peeks his head into your shared bathroom. No sign of you. 

He’s covering his mouth as he yawns when he quietly opens the door to Jack’s bedroom–still no sign of you. Remembering his son has been nursing a stomach bug since yesterday, he opened the door further to check on him. No fever. No chills. No sign of discomfort. 

When he’s sure Jack’s okay, he turns around to go back to find where you went. He even checked the backyard as he passed by a window to see if you’re at your favorite swing reading, that perhaps you just woke up early and wanted to feel the morning sun because you claimed it lightens you. 

He smiles a little to himself as he treads downstairs, finally hearing your soft murmurs as you spoke with someone presumably over the phone. As he neared the kitchen he realized that the person on the line was your colleague and friend Tilly, and that she was on speaker phone making it easy to listen in. 

He slows down his steps as he nears the landing and pauses when he gets behind a wall near the kitchen. He doesn’t know what came over him. He doesn’t usually sneak around to eavesdrop, nor did he ever feel the need to especially when it came to you. You tell him everything, prompted and unprompted. 

But perhaps it was the haze of the morning or the curiosity of what could possibly get you out of bed this early when you’re usually the one snoozing away as he’s getting ready for work– he stayed quiet behind that wall and made it his mission to understand the conversation. 

He clears his mind and strains his ear, going as far as making his breaths slow and far apart. 

He hears Tilly giggling, “Don’t get me wrong, Adam from Finance is really cute but.. isn’t he just a little too serious? He’s always got that frown going on.” 

You sigh a little loudly, obvious that it’s a sigh to humor and not of exasperation, “Tilly, you know I love you, but every day you complain about being single. And every other day there’s a decent guy who you always always find that one flaw in that just crosses them off for you forever.” Tilly lets out a sound that’s a mixture of a laugh and a gasp. 

“That is so not tr–” “Oh, Hugh’s just too clean. And Frederick’s too hard, it’s like- scary. Yes, veiny hands are hot but there’s veiny and too veiny, and Jason was just a double too veiny.” 

Aaron momentarily pauses his listening and looks down at his hands, suddenly conscious where he fit in that category. Factoring in his age, his work, and the action he gets from the field– these all show. He tried thinking of a time you could’ve shown any dislike or disgust towards his hands but all he could think of was that one night when he cupped your face and you leaned towards it more, turning slightly to take his thumb into your mou–

He’s shaken out of his thoughts when he hears Tilly asking about you leaving, “What time are you getting to the office by the way? I just don’t want to get there without you. Adam might ask about that second date and I just need you as my bluff, my beautiful girl.” He makes a mental note to message Jessica before you both get ready for work. 

“Riiiight. Remind me how many guys have I scared off for you now? And how many times have I helped you scare them off? Besides, I can’t go today and I’ve already told Bobby I’m on leave.” 

In a slight surprise and panic Tilly whines, “What?! Why? You’re such a traitor. You know damn well I get so bored without you.” Aaron didn’t even know you were planning on staying home. You hadn’t mentioned anything about it last night which made him even more curious what made you decide. 

He hears your soft laugh, “Don’t be so dramatic. You’ll manage a day without me. I mean you have to– my son caught a stomach bug yesterday so I just want to make sure he’ll recover completely.” 

Aaron can hear Tilly responding, something about soup and warm baths, but his heart has just stopped so he’s not really processing any new words at the moment. 

My son. My son. My son. My son caught a stomach bug. 

He feels lightheaded. His heart kickstarts again, his pulse is ringing in his ear. He can feel his chest pounding to his heart’s beat. The words that rolled off your lips so effortlessly, so mindlessly, echoes in his head. 

Jack may be young but he is smart. So so smart beyond his years. And he has grown to understand what had happened to his mom Haley, but not once has he– and even you allowed Jack to forget who Haley is and how much she loves him. 

Images of you joining in their traditions of honoring and remembering Haley plays in his head in flashes. You helping Jack arrange a bouquet for Haley’s death anniversary. You helping Jack make a card for her birthday. You mixing the paint to get the right shades as Jack paints a portrait of Haley for his Mothers’ Day homework. 

Aaron had told you everything there was to know about Haley and you’ve listened. He knows you adore her. You adore her for the same reasons he adored her. You understood the space Haley had in his life and in Jack’s life, and not once were you ever jealous, immature, or selfish about it. Even though he would’ve completely understood if you were. 

You were nothing but supportive, and understanding, and loving. Even when he didn’t deserve it. Even when you deserved better. Admittedly, there was a point in time when he struggled with coming to terms with falling in love– with you nonetheless. You’re young, ambitious, brilliant, talented, insanely beautiful, and unfairly kind. 

When the two of you had met, this was his profile: divorced with a kid, recovering from trauma that stemmed from being stabbed multiple times in his own home, emotionally unavailable, annoyingly serious and fatally dull– which really makes him wonder what made you fall in love with him in the first place, and even more so what made you stay even when he was bafflingly dense about how you felt about him.  

He didn’t know how long he was standing there, like a deer caught in headlights. Replaying your words and his memories over and over again, slowly coming to the conclusion that you’re absolutely perfect and he’s absolutely gone for you. 

Slowly coming to his senses, Aaron becomes more aware of the silence. The call must have ended while he was having realizations about things. He rounds the corner silently, getting a feel of where you’re facing. Luckily he guesses right, that you’re facing away from him. 

You were rummaging through the fridge– the vegetable drawer if he had to guess, judging by how much you’re slouching and reaching, and the sound of the glass containers you use to prolong their freshness. 

He quickly surveys the scene- your phone is on the counter, beside it is a chopping board with carrots and onions, a carton of chicken broth, Jack’s favorite dinosaur-shaped pasta, and chocolate milk– the one drink you both know can make Jack feel instantly better, happier. 

His heart pinches again. You got up early to make sure Jack had something to eat for breakfast in time for his medicine. You got up early even though you aren’t planning on going to work. You aren’t going to work because you want to stay with Jack. You called Jack your son. 

With so many things running in his head, he stands quietly observing you finding god knows whatever vegetable. Maybe it's the intensity of his stare or the volume of his thoughts, or maybe he started to breathe loudly– but suddenly you knew he was there. He could tell. 

You slowly straightened your back from when you were leaning. Your hands have stopped rummaging through the drawer, and he could see the goosebumps on your legs and shoulders from the way the sunlight hits you through the kitchen window. 

You turn around slowly, as if you were just caught doing something you aren’t supposed to be doing, “I’m so sorry, did I wake you?” grimacing as if it was a crime to be hot and cute and gut-wrenchingly-sweet. 

“No.” His voice is groggy. Deep and rough given that he just woke up minutes ago and hasn’t really used it since. Looking at you through studying eyes, he clears his throat “Uhm, I woke up to get ready for work and you weren’t there.” 

Aaron suddenly feels a little cold. The thin material of his shirt and pajamas doing little to contain what warmth he has left in his body. Or maybe it’s you, maybe his body has sensed that you’re near and is now craving your warmth, making him feel a magnified amount of its absence.

“Oh.. I’m sorry I just wanted to get ahead of cooking so Jack can have soup before he takes his medicine at 8 and since I was also planning to do some work though I’m on leave, it just made sense to get an early start…” You slow your words, noticing how Hotch is studying you tenfold in the moment, as if you were an apparition, “Are you okay? Did you want soup too? I can pack you some before you go?”

His silence makes you panic a little. You can’t really tell if he’s upset about something or if he’s sleepwalking, “Or you can eat here. I mean– you live here, of course you can eat here. I mean like instead of bringing it to the office– not that if you eat here, you can’t bring some anymore.” 

The longer he stays silent, adoring you, the more you scramble to fill the silence, “I’m just– you know you can do whatever you want. You can eat here, there, anywhere. Unless you don’t want soup. I mean we still have leftover steak, I cou–” 

You pause your rambling because you can see a smile starting to form on his face. A real, big smile. Laugh lines and dimples and all, which makes you smile. Realizing how stupid you were sounding and how funny the situation was becoming, you started giggling.

And just as you think he’s about to join the laughter to make fun of you, his smile softens and he says, “Marry me.” 

[kingstealer]

aabria going, "as aimee who maybe wants to have a friend sit by you soon" is going to haunt me for the next two weeks. i can already tell.

[a-b-riddle]

Part 7

Can't stop thinking about how the 141 met reader

(she's a long one. not entirely happy with it either so may edit later)

No harm done yet.

You never saw Simon actually hurt anyone. Johnny and Kyle would share stories about poor recruits who fucked around and eventually found out that Simon had no issue beating them within an inch of their life.

You knew he had a reputation and, like the rest of them, had blood on his hands. But it never bothered you. Didn't make you think twice about loving him or seeing him as the protector he had always been to you. To be frank, you could never actually picture any of them being violent.

But his voice... Fuck. His voice. It fucking rattled you. You actually feared for those fucking idiots now. Sure, they deserved to have their asses kicked, but an ass-kicking was probably going to be a welcomed after thought to whatever Simon would do.

You rinsed off, not bothering to wash your hair, but needing to wash up before getting in the bed. Hoping the scalding hot water washed away the uneasiness on your skin that had began to settle into your bones.

Even feeling fresh and laying in clean sheets, you still found yourself tossing and turning wondering exactly what did Simon do?

Did he walk away? Realizing you weren't worth the trouble, did he just tell them to knock it off?

You had stupidly expected Simon to check in. To check if you made it home alright or at least to let you know he was okay. So you waited... And you waited. You had half a mind to call him yourself before remembering it wasn't your place anymore to care. You had cared enough for the five of you.

It was well past two in the morning before you finally called it a night.

The next morning, still nothing from Mr. Riley. Not a 'did you home alright?' or 'are you okay?' text. Nada. Zilch.

Whatever.

Fuck him.

You had to open up shop, but luckily your Saturday mornings were much more relaxed. The shop wouldn't be open until 10, so you had the time to sleep in and enjoy the morning.

By noon, Mere had sent you several texts reminding you that you had promised to go out. You had tried to dissuade her. The encounter with those men last night had brought back sour memories. One involving handsome men coming to your rescue when it was most certainly needed.

You had tried to bail. Giving her any excuse you could: Last night put you on edge. You no longer wanted to go out. After last weekend, you just needed some down time.

Eventually you had realized she was not taking no for an answer after she had shown up to your apartment, already ready for a night out.

"You're not wearing that, are you?" Mere asked. Mere was in her usual Saturday femme-fatal attire. The black leather pants that accentuated her curves and red corset paired well with her freshly box dyed color black hair.

She looked more like a dominatrix than someone who worked at an attorney's office. Even if both professions included bending someone over and fucking them for all their worth. You wondered who would charge more by the hour....

You had pulled out a off white lace square neck top and a pair of high waisted medium washed baggy jeans. A perfectly cute outfit for a night out. Which was your defense when she had suggested you needed to change.

Tab had arrived later than expected (something about a system being down at work), but made up for it by bringing a pre-game snack. Yes, you had officially reached the age where you no longer starved yourself hours before going out to get more drunk quicker and cheaper. No you had to eat carbs or else you wouldn't be able to leave your room the next day as you pathetically nurse a hangover.

Tab wore a denim skirt. If you could even call it that. It paired well with the white tank top that you could make out the shape of her nipple piercing.

But they looked hot. Really hot.

"This is a perfectly acceptable outfit."

"For a day at market, not for trying to get laid."

"I don't want to get laid." You said, rummaging through your closet, yet again. "Getting laid is what got me in this mess in the first place."

A little over two years ago

"Fuck him." Tabitha wrapped her arms around your shaking body as you continued to sob. "He was a prick who didn't fucking deserve you."

"He couldn't even get you to cum." Mere felt the need to remind you as if that would somehow lessen the blow of your heartbreaking into a million shards. The shrapnel feeling like it would kill you.

"I loved him," your voice is small. "I fucking loved him." You had been dating for almost three years. You had his grandmother's ring on your fucking hand for God's sake. "I'm so stupid."

"You are not stupid." Tabitha gave you a squeeze. "He was a liar and a fucking coward." Meredith rubbed her thumb on you bare leg, offering physical reassure. Letting you know even if she wasn't the hugger Tabs was, she was still here.

"You can't keep locked up in this apartment." She was unfortunately right. You had not only barricaded yourself in your apartment for two weeks, but you hadn't returned to your bedroom. The scene of the crime. "You need to get out."

"Yeah," Tabitha rubbed your arm as if trying to coax you out your metaphorical shell. "Get some fresh air. We can go grab a treat. Maybe go out for some coffee." It didn't surprise you that Tabitha was offering a treat to entice you to leaving your sanctuary.

"I was thinking going to a bar." It also didn't surprise you that Mere offered her way of coping. Getting so drunk that you forgot what you even sad about. Or going out and finding someone to fuck the sadness out of her.

"Because getting alcohol in her system in this state is just what she needs." Tabitha was the mom of the group whereas Mere was the fun drunk aunt. They balanced one another out.

"Actually," you said, giving a pathetic sniffle. "Going out would be nice." Getting away from the apartment is what you need. And going out would be the excuse you would need to get yourself all dolled up.

What you hadn't planned for was getting so pissed that you had manage to breakaway from your friends. Searching for them in teh crowd of people. Failing and when you pulled out your phone were met with a completely black screen.

Dead. Perfect.

The same moment you swore the night couldn't get any worse, it did.

He looked the same. Same as he been four months ago when he asked you to become his wife. Same as he had been two weeks ago when you had caught him fucking another girl. The girl he told you not to worry about. The girl he insisted was just one of the guys. A girl you had told him time and time again would fuck him the moment she had the chance.

It wasn't always great to be right.

When your eyes connected, your body had went into immediate flight mode. Every neuron in your body was shooting out signals of RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN. So that's exactly what you did.

You fucking bolted.

Or felt like you bolted. But you could only scurry so fast in chunky heels while simultaneously pulling down your skirt that had decided to ride up. Aching to show your ass for all of London to see.

You had made it a quarter of the way back to your apartment. Your feet aching. Toes pinched together from the strap digging into them.

"Baby, please!" You heard him before you felt his arm clamp down on your shoulder. Hard. When did his touch become something heavy? Something that practically burned you.

You turned. Eyes brimming with unshed tears as you hissed at him to leave you the fuck alone. The begging came, but you turned around. Determined to go home. He didn't deserve the chance to explain himself and he could most certainly shove his apology up his ass.

He wouldn't shut up. Insisting it was a mistake. A one time thing her fault. How she seduced him. As if he were the victim in all of this. You weren't buying it. Not for one moment. One doesn't accidentally invite some slut over and fall balls deep into her while they are in the same bed he shares with his fiancée.

It wasn't until you were in a more dimly lit area that he had gotten the nerve to grab you. His grip was firm on your arms as he held you in place. "Listen to me!" His voice was panicked.

The feeling of anger slowly began to dim as something else began to rise.

Fear.

You were afraid.

You were in a part of town not many people were out and about in at this time of night. No bystanders to really take note of the scene, or at least not any caring enough to stand by and watch; even for entertainment.

Your friends didn't know where you were at and you were tipsy. And alone.

"Cardan," you swallowed, trying to steady your voice. "Please let me go."

"Not until you talk to me," his fingers dug into you. "We can work this out, okay? It was one mistake." He tried to argue, his voice rising, soaked in desperation. "What's one mistake compared to three years?"

"Cardan," you tried to pull away, his grip only tightening. "You're hurting me." It came out as a pathetic whimper. You were so close to crying, too afraid to scream.

"Hey!" A voice barked from behind you. It caused your whole body to stiffen."Get your fucking hands off her. Someone noticed. Someone was here. Someone was here. Someone was here.

"We are having a conversation." Cardan's eyes left you, looking at whoever stood behind you.

"The lass said to leave her be." Another voice. Someone else. Two (three if you counted yourself, but in that moment you couldn't) people against one. There was no a possibility of you getting the fuck out of this situation.

Cardan stood firm. His eyes looking past you. A silent refusal to back down.

"Either you let her go," another voice. Another accent different that the first two. "Or we fucking make you."

"One against four. Odds aren't in your favor, mate." Four. Four men stood behind you. Faceless strangers there to help you.

"This doesn't concern you." Cardan bit out.

"Aye," Scottish. The second guy was definitely Scottish. "I think it does if she's tellin' ye' to piss off and yer bein' a bawbag about it."

"So what'll it be?" The third voice, deep and threatening, yet still so... calming. As if the vibrations from his deep, rich pitch washed over you.

Cardan looked back at you, his eyes not as manic. He realized he didn't have a chance. This was a fight he had to walk away from or else he wouldn't be walking away from it at all. "I'll swing by tomorrow, okay?" He asked.

You couldn't do anything, but nod. Agree that you could talk tomorrow in the safety of the sunlight. Eventually he walked across the street before fading out into the night. Blending in with the shadows.

You turned around to meet your would-be saviors.

Four men. All slightly older than you and so handsome you felt foolish for gawking at them as if this were your first time seeing a man. Hell, maybe it was. At least specimens like this. All of them tall and broad. Towering over you.

No wonder Cardan got the fuck out of there. Tabs was right. He was a coward.

"You alright?" The one who first spoke up asked. You could place his voice. Now just needed to place the other three. He had a hearty mustache and mutton chops. A look on any one else would make you immediately get the ick. But for a moment you wondered if that mustache would tickle... "Do you need us to call anyone?"

You felt your cheeks flush with heat.

"I just want to go home." You said. "Thank you for stepping in. I don't know what would have-" You stopped. Too afraid to think about the possibilities. There was a time you would never believe that Cardan had the ability to hurt you.

There was also a time you believed he would never cheat. You weren't really sure what to believe anymore. "Anyway," you continued. "Thank you again." You turned on your heel before continuing your stride.

You had only made it several feet before you were stopped again. "Which way? One of us can walk you home." You weren't entirely sure. But with a dead cellphone and a unhinged ex probably lurking in the shadows, there was little time to weigh the pros and cons before giving them a general direction of where you lived.

Which just so happened to be the direction in which two of the four lived. The Scot and one of the two who had yet to speak. The first one, who had still yet to introduce himself instructed the two of them to drop you off and let him know you had made it home alright.

You had hoped that the rest of your night would be met with silence, but the Scot couldn't seem to help himself. "I'm Johnny." He introduced. "And the spooky, silent type is Simon." He gave a playful wink. You gave him your name, not wanting to be rude.

"Not my place to ask," he began. "But what was the deal with that fucker? Ex-boyfriend?"

"Johnny." Simon's tone held warning. You appreciated the defense, but frankly didn't care. These were strangers. Who cared what they thought.

"Ex-fiancée," you clarified. "One who decided to fuck another girl in my bed. Not even our bed. My bed."

"Jesus fucking Christ," the Scot swore. "I was right. He was a fucking bawbag." For whatever reason, that made you laugh. For the first time in two weeks you fucking laughed. And it felt like you were breathing again.

Simon was quiet, not contributing to the conversation and just letting Johnny babble. Talking your ear off in a short trek as if it were an olympic sport.

You were so distracted with his voice you hadn't realized how far you had made it until the sound of your keys clattering onto your kitchen counter brought you back.

Back to a situation you didn't know how the fuck you landed in.

Two men (who you don't know) are in your apartment. Your friends don't know where you are. You are a little bit too inebriated to plan and exit strategy. Doesn't exactly help your confidence in fighting them off since they are built like fucking brick houses.

"He won't come sniffin' around here botherin' ya, will he?" Simon asks, speaking for only the second time since he had threatened Cardan. You shake your head.

"No," you said. "I have him blocked on everything. So I think when he saw me tonight it was just kind of an opportunity, I suppose?" You offer. Cardan had showed up to your place one time with a random assortment of flowers and a useless apology you had to hear through the door as you covered your mouth. Concealing your cries. Too afraid to let him know you were there.

Too afraid that some part of you would be weak enough to take him back.

"We'll leave ye' be." Johnny said, nodding his head toward the door. "But if he comes bein' a shite to ye again, you can give us a call."

"Phones dead." You explain, holding up your phone as if you needed to prove yourself. Johnny offered the brilliant, yet simple solution of giving him your number. He sent off a text, knowing it would be there when you turned back on and promising to check in later.

They both gave subtle nods of goodbye before turning away.

And just like that, they left. The door clicking softly shut behind them. You stood, frozen for several beats before walking over and locking the door.

You plugged your phone into the charging cable, waiting until it lit back to life before shooting off a text in your group chat with Tab and Mere.

Sorry I took off. Ran into Cardan and fucking made a dash for it. Sorry if I worried you. I'm at home. I'm okay. Grab lunch tomorrow and we can talk about it? My treat?

You signed off the text with a heart emoji and turned your phone on do not disturb. Too afraid of your friends going all Mama Bear on you for running away while drunk. Even if your reasons were valid.

You had texted Johnny again. Not because Cardan dared to bother you again, but to thank him. Acknowledging that not many men would have done for you what he and his friend did. Johnny assured you it wasn't anything.

Before you knew it, the two of you were hanging out with Simon always tagging along. It took you a while to realize he did actually like you, but his stoic nature was just who he was. You had met Kyle and John, both as charming and respectful as Johnny and Simon.

John had been the first two mention wanting to take you on a date. It didn't go well with the other three. They all had the same intention and a rock, paper, scissors tournament seemed to juvenile to figure out who got the privilege in courting you. Eventually, they had decided to ask you.

Putting you on the spot to answer the question that had begun to tear them apart: which one of them will it be?

Johnny made you laugh. He was the first person you thought about calling when your day was a bit grey. He saw the positive in everything and was the one who made you feel like even the bad days weren't so terrible.

Then there was Simon. The one who you felt like was your safe place in body and mind. You would babble all day talking to him, thankful when he would let you rant. Your mind was able to go on auto-pilot in terms of safety because you knew Simon would handle it. He also gave the best hugs.

John was the one who instilled the confidence in you that you needed. Your bookstore, your writing, whatever aspirations you had, no matter how wild, John would support it. Nothing was too big. After you all started dating, he was the first person you ever let read your book. He gave you praise as well as critique, pointing out multiple plot holes and helping you craft it better. And never once taking credit for it, even when it was due.

Kyle was the most thoughtful one. He was the one who knew you liked trying knew things so he made an effort to always make date nights interesting. A new restaurant, a new activity or experience. He was the biggest giver of the group.

So when they did ask you, you answered honestly.

"I can't choose." They insisted that you didn't need to spare their feelings, but you stood firm in your decision. "No. I can't choose. I'm interested in all of you." When they pressed on why the fuck you didn't say anything earlier, you told them to avoid this kind of situation. Where you had to choose. You were fine continuing on as just friends if that meant you got to keep all of them.

Mere and Tabs were great friends, but they are the ones who helped pull you out of the slump. The ones who made you feel lovable. The ones who made you feel like a woman again.

"Helloooooo." Mere's hand waved in your face while another held something she had found in your closet. "So are you going to change or not?" Your eyes darted to the skimpy glittery black dress. The same one for your first date with them. Your stomach twisted as you took the sparkly dark fabric in your hand.

You nodded as if trying to shake the memory out of your mind. "I'll change and we can go." Better just to get it over with.

The place that Mere had dragged you to was a club that played music that you would only listen to while encapsulated in the aroma of cheap liquor and sweat. Your outfit form-fitting. The material too stiff to be comfortable, but it was cute. The hem of your dress coming to rest just below your ass cheeks. Hugging your body in a way that made you feel self conscious the moment you stepped out of your building.

Mere had run into some work colleagues. Names you couldn't and wouldn't remember. There had been a high profile divorce going on. Very messy. She had been so encapsulated by the gossip that she hadn't notice you and Tabitha had slipped off toward the bar.

Tabitha insisted on shots and you needed something to get your mind off the less than exciting night. Your expectations weren't high, but fuck. You would have been much more comfortable wearing the jeans. You felt like a piece of fucking meat. It would have been so bad if someone were gonna buy you a dr-

"This seat taken?" It was a cliche introduction attached to a slightly better than average face. Decent enough where it didn't hurt to look at him, but not attractive enough to be a seat.

"By all means," you said turning back to Tabitha who looked at the guy now sitting to your left and raising her eyebrows. Fucking hell. Not her too.

"It's pretty packed tonight." He commented, attempted to make small talk. You hated small talk. At least unless it came to Johnny who would get into discussion on politics, religion and why on the side was the best way to fuck because it gave him 'a perfect view of the front and back of ye.'

"You come here often?" You asked, not wanting to be a total bitch, but having absolutely zero desire to be entertaining him.

"When I can." He said. "I prefer the Artifact a couple of blocks down. Not many people heard of it. A bit of a hole-in-the-wall place." Oh cool. A fucking hipster who liked to act superior at knowing a place that is underground. You could feel any possibility of getting your pussy wet, dry at the thought of this man actually wanting to come onto you.

Jesus, when did you become so harsh.

I blame Simon.

"Oh," you say, no longer interested in entertaining the conversation. "Sounds lovely. My friend and I just came out for a bit of girl-" you turn to look at Tabitha who had somehow miraculously disappeared in the 45 fucking seconds that your back was turned....

Little bitch.

"Bathroom, I suppose." He laughed. It was the sincerity in his voice that irked you. God, why was he pissing you off just trying to start a conversation?

"I suppose." You gave a soft smile back, turning once the bartender had come over to grab your order. Which the stranger next to you had insisted buying. Nothing quite as arousing as obligated conversation.

"There's no need for that-"

"Percival." He introduced. "But my friends call me Percy." Your immediate thought was who the fuck names there kid Percival. The second was to offer him a fake name. Real enough to be believable, but fake enough where if he tried to search you up on any social media, you could just deny having any.

"I hate to be brash," he started. Then don't. "But I can't imagine a girl like you being single."

"Not really looking for anything romantic at the moment." You say, the first time you've been truthful this entire conversation. Percival leaned in closer, before asking in a low voice that he was doubt trying to convey as sexy, "Are you sure?"

And there it was. The final ick that nailed the coffin shut.

You offered in a soft smile before swallowing hard. "Percival,"

"My friends call me-"

"I'm going to be frank." Your voice is soft, as if explaining to a small child why we don't always get the things we want. "I just got of a very long and deep and meaningful relationship and the idea of being near another man in any intimate or emotional capacity wants me to cause very serious bodily harm to said man."

His expression fell.

"I appreciate your confidence in coming over here and making small talk, but if you're wanting to fuck me or even attempt to be friends, I must inform you that is no only not in the cards, but not in your best interest." You turned, downing the rest of your cocktail.

"Time for a trip to the bathroom myself, I suppose." You stood from your seat, having to readjust your dress.. "Have a good night."

You were washing your hands when a red-faced Mere walked into the bathroom. Tabitha on her heels with a concerned expression.

"What did you do?" Mere asked.

"What are you talking about?" You asked. You had half a mind to ask them why the fuck they pulled a disappearing act after insisting you go out.

"You told Percy you would castrate him?" You looked as if you had been slapped. The pieces falling into place to reveal a totally fucked up puzzle.

"You fucking tried to set me up." You seethed, a finger pointing accusingly.

"Well, fuck, what did you expect me to do?" She asked. "You were sulking."

"Listen to me!" You cried. "I want you to listen to me. I was with them for two years. It hasn't even been two weeks and you're going behind my fucking back and trying to set me up with fucking Percival? How the fuck do you even know him? Do you even know him?" She ignored your last question. How convenient.

"I thought it would be good to get it out of your system." She tried to defend, her pissyness now matching yours. "You always do this. I was just trying to help."

"What do you mean 'I always do this'?" Your eyes turned into slits.

"Why don't we just calm down and-" Tabitha tried to stop the escalation. Mere, very obviously, ignored that cue.

"You get so hung up on a guy, or in this case guys, it takes you fucking weeks to recover." You stare at her. Unsure if she was really comprehending the bullshit that had come out of her mouth.

"I'm certain you aren't trying to make me feel bad for grieving a relationship that I was in for over three years to a man I was engaged to. To find him fucking in my apartment, in my bed the same week I was going to get my wedding dress."

"It's not just Cardan," she went on. "Issac in our second year of school?" You gave a humorless chuckle.

"Oh yes," you said condescendingly, "the boy I had dated from 14-years old- until I was 19. The boy I gave my virginity two months before he told me he was not only not interested in me, but women in general." As if that somehow lessened the blow. "Absolutely shouldn't have bothered me a bit."

"You only went out for classes and food for two months!" She said as if you had hit a pedestrian with your car. As if you were a fool for being so distracted by a breakup you couldn't be bothered to carry on with life as normal.

"I'm sorry that I actually take the time to grieve my relationships." You said. "I forgot that it may be hard for either of you to comprehend what a relationship is like considering the only relationship either of you have is with your work or with each of us."

"Hey!" Tabitha said. "I understand your pissed, but there isn't need to attack us like this."

"Attack you?" You asked. "Attack you? This isn't me attacking you. This is me responding to an uncomfortable situation that you put me in. I told you I didn't want to even think about me. I didn't want to fuck someone else and you go and do this?"

"He seems like a decent guy." You roll your eyes.

"Probably why he's not your type, right?" Mere crossed her arms over chest. Eyebrow arched as if she were hoping the words enticed you to realize that you had a history of going after the wrong guys.

Unfortunately, it did not.

You sucked on your teeth, carefully choosing your words before World War III broke out in a nearly vacant bathroom in South London. You took a deep breath. Calming yourself as best as you could.

Before saying fuck it and letting it loose.

"Just because your idea of coping is getting drunk and fucking someone you plan on never speaking to again, quite literally discarding them like trash, doesn't mean the rest of us cope the same way." You hoped it hurt. You hope it stung the same way she had tried to sting you.

You had hoped that your word would be the final blow before both sides called a treaty.

"You mean like they did you?"

And just like that, you heart stuttered. A rapid dum dum dum in your chest as it had been tripped up by her words. The truth in them heavy. The shift in the air was almost immediate;.

"Sweetheart-" Tabitha had tried to reach out before you jerked away.

"Enjoy your night." You said, grabbing your purse where you had left it by the sink. "I'm going to go home and wallow in my self pity." You exited the bathroom, hearing your named called again before shifting it into gear and getting the fuck out of there.

Weaving through the sea of bodies like water flowing around rocks.

Who the fuck cares if you want to cry? To grieve? To be angry? To get closure? To move on? Who cares if you don't want to be the girl who gets her heart shattered and not fuck somone else? Who wants to feel the comfort of a familiar body, a touch that feels safe one last time before you go back into a world where you will only be touched by a stranger?

It didn't matter that you were the one to breakup with them, even if the relationship was broken. It's foundation cracked.

What did matter is that the people who should have supported you and in the way you were dealing with your loss in your own way, didn't. And that's the part that they seem to forget. It is a loss. It's mourning someone who hasn't died. Someone who is still living, yet still no longer there.

"Off already?" Percy cut in the way, blocking your escape. You weren't in the mood.

"Listen-" you started before he cut you off.

"Not anything romantic, I know," he raised his hands as if in defense, "but maybe like another drink or a dance?"

You closed your eyes, wanting to hold off starting a scene and tearing him a new asshole. "Like I said, not. interested." How much clearer could you spell it out?

"Come on." He said, his hand coming to rest on your hip. The grip on it weak. You were by no means the type of woman that could take on a man like the ones you still held in a chamber of your heart. But you could most certainly handle your own against Percival. "I'm asking for a dance. After what Meredith told me, I figured you'd be down for at a little more than that."

"I don't follow." Your blood ran cold. Your heart praying that any assumptions that were running through your mind were wrong, they were wrong.

"She mentioned you having a group of like guys you fucked, but stopped fucking." He shrugged, offering a coy smile that you ached to wipe off with the back of your hand. "I don't judge. It's kind of hot honest. Did they run train or-" You felt it then. His hand had traveled from your hip to the curve of your ass.

And you froze. You froze like a coward. Too afraid to speak or scream. Too ashamed to push him away, cause a scene.

But you didn't need to do any of that.

In an instant, Percy's hand was off of you. It took you a moment to realize that a figure dressed in black stood beside you. Your own personal grim reaper.

"Put him go!" You pleaded, breaking out of your trance. You took hold of his arm putting all of your body weight on his arm, trying to break his hold. He didn't falter.

You could handle you own against Percy.

But Simon could fucking kill him without breaking a sweat.

You looked at Simon's face. His eyes were darkened. The soft brown you had once loved staring into were now almost black. You could even make out the dark circles, even in the unsettling flickering of strobe lights in the club.

"You touch her again and I'll slit your fucking throat. Understood?" Pure venom fell from Simon's lips, but you knew he wasn't lying. Simon was the type of man who didn't say something he didn't mean.

You knew that all too well.

Percy choked out an ineligible, gurgled response as Simon's hand held firm on his throat. "He understands, goddammit, no let him down!" You ordered hitting at him as if it would stop him. "Simon, please!"

It was only when you said his name, did Simon loosen his grip. Letting Percy drop to a heap on the floor before he started a having a coughing fit, trying to suck in as much air as he could.

Simon looked down at you and the exit before scooping you up and hauling you over his shoulder like a sack of flower.

You wanted to die. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die and never show your face again.

"Get in the car." He at least had the decency to open the door for you. Simon wasn't a flashy man, by any means, but he was still a man. A men did love their cars.

He stood, waiting for you but you didn't move. You glared up at him. He had carried you out of there in the most humiliating way possible. You had to fight against the hemline of your dress or else everyone would have gotten an eyeful.

Hand still on the door, he leaned down, getting closer and closer to your height. "You get your ass in this car right now," his breath warm against your ear. "Or I'll have you over my fuckin' knee." His tone was sharp. It wasn't seduction in form of a threat. It wasn't even a threat.

It was a promise.

"We're over." You reminded.

"Do you think that'll fuckin' stop me from spankin' some sense into your bratty ass?"

"It doesn't give you the right to fucking do that to people, Simon!" You huffed. "You could have killed in."

"Could have," he agreed. "But didn't. You're welcome." he nodded toward the car. "Now, in you go or I'll do it here. You already know I don't mind an audience."

The heated seats were a bit to warm for your liking against your bare ass. The tension in the air was uncomfortable. Your hands ached to touch the radio. Anything to stop the silence between the two of you.

"I got home fine the other night by the way." You said, looking out the window, hoping to make him feel like shit for not checking in like he should have.

"I know you did."

"What do you mean you know I did?" You asked, turning to look at him. He shrugged as if it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not stopping.

"Just did." Was his only answer.

"Are you fucking stalking me, Riley?" That made him laugh. You would have felt better if there was at least a sense of humor in it, but, instead, only disbelief.

"Oh, Riley now, is it?" He asked.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be." You caught it. A very small slip, but it was something... something you couldn't place.

"Then why?" You ask, your tone softening. "For someone who makes it very apparent to be done with me, you sure do show up at convenient times. Hard not to think your keeping tabs on me."

He didn't say anything. No explanation or excuse. Not evena smart ass comeback or remark.

His hands reached forward and turned on the radio, turning the volume just loud enough that if you were to try and continue the conversation, your words would be drowned out.

He pulled up in front of your building, yet you made no move to get out. You turned off the radio, soaking in the silence once more. You wanted to know why? Why was he appearing out of nowhere like a fucking ghost? Why was he helping you?

He sighed before putting the car in park and stepping out. Coming around to your side he opened the door. "Get inside. Go to bed." There he was again. Fucking bossing you around as if he still had a say.

You wanted to cuss him out. To spew hateful words just as he did you.

But you didn't.

You were tired.

So fucking tired. And the idea of going to bed did sound pretty good in that moment. You made it to the door of your building before he spoke again. "And if you need to out at this time at night call a goddamn cab."

"Why?" You asked, turning around. "Getting tired of having to follow me around on foot, Si?"

There was a pregnant pause. Neither of you speaking. His body shifted forward, as if contemplating getting closer to you. As if the pull you once had was still there.

With his eyes trained on you, you felt a chill run down your spine. Twice you had seen that look on Simon's face before. The look that he had given the figures concealed in the shadows last night. The same look he had given Percy.

Only this time, it was directed at you.

One that personified the saying, 'if looks could kill.'

"Because," he growled out, "the next time I find someone else touching you that way, I'll fucking kill them."

[orionremastered]

could you do a batfam x oblivious reader who’s so close to finding out they’re a vigilante, but she doesn’t even know if that makes sense? like nightwing crawling in through the window when he thought she was asleep, only for her to be awake and go “wrong house?” not realizing it’s her boyfriend.. who thought she was asleep

this made me laugh. very good thinking brains y'all have

Masterlist

Oblivious

Dick Grayson

The sound of your window sliding open prompts you to look up from where you lie your head on the pillow. You can't seem to get to sleep and maybe it's a good thing— you grab for the lamp on the bedside table and raise it high over your head.

Climbing through the window, however, is not a common thief. It's Nightwing.

"What are you doing here?"

The vigilante freezes, slowly looking up to meet your eyes. "I was told there was domestic abuse occurring in this apartment," he says smoothly. "You have a boyfriend?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Where is he?"

You look over to Dick's spot on the bed and only just now do you realise it's empty. There's a note written on paper that reads, OUT TO GET FOOD.

"He's grocery shopping."

"Ah, wrong apartment, then. Sorry to bother you." The vigilante then ducks outside.

Jason Todd

A loud crash prompts you to wake up— far earlier than you're used to. The sun isn't even up yet. Glancing to the side of your bed, you forget Jason's out on a business trip, what ever his business is.

You carefully climb out of bed, creeping to the bedroom door and slowly pushing it open. In your living stands Red Hood himself, dismantling an assault rifle.

"What are you doing in my house?"

The vigilante whips his head around, frozen like a deer in headlights. There's a long few minutes of silence where the two of you stare at each other.

"Gun's not working. I'll be out in a minute, just need to fix it. My apologies."

"Oh," you say, shrugging your shoulders. "Stay safe, then."

Red Hood nods, watching you return to your bed with a quiet sigh.

Tim Drake

Waking up at your usual time and kissing Tim gently on the forehead, almost as a reward for sleeping.

After eating breakfast as quickly as you could, you were surprised to see Tim still asleep and give him another gentle kiss, this time on the nose.

You've only got half an hour until you have to go to work, so you rush to the bathroom to get ready.

The Red Robin suit is draped over the shower wall, unmistakeable.

In your bathroom.

"Tim?" You shout, forgetting your boyfriend's need to sleep. "Tim!"

"What?" he replies groggily, slowly getting out of bed.

"The Red Robin suit is in my bathroom."

"Oh, uh, he asked me to clean it for him. We're sort of like, friends. I guess. It's weird."

"You never told me that," you say.

"It's a recent thing. Sorry."

You shrug and get ready for work, ignoring the suit at is it hangs in your bathroom.

Damian Wayne

"Emergency at work," your boyfriend had said. He gets a lot of those, you think. "Be back in the morning. Maybe later."

Now, going to sleep late— towards midnight, where Damian would have already dragged you into bed— you realised you didn't have on of his shirts to sleep in.

When he wasn't with you to sleep, you always sleep in one of his shirts.

You begin scrummaging through his wardrobe— which you never do— only for a shirt. You find one, your favourite black one, and pull it out.

Underneath the shirt, revealed as you yank it from the drawer, is a katanna.

"Oh. Oh."

It's late. You're tired. You've got the shirt.

It's probably just an antique piece anyway. Rich people have all sorts of things.

[sagi-tori-ous]

Simon sighs, his left hand coming up to press against his anguish ridden face. He had just gotten off the phone with work and it was expressed that they needed him there earlier than his allotted time.

He knew you wouldn't take the news well, early mornings were your favorite time to spend with him. Simon wasn't an early bird like you even though his profession called for punctuality. He loved the bed you'd share, snuggling up to you till his alarm shrieked through the master bedroom, every so often tempting him to throw it afar without care. Nevertheless, he knew what mornings meant to you. There was always a reason why he dragged himself out of bed an hour, almost two before he had to leave the house. There was an obligation, one where he had to sit at the round oak table with you perched on his lap, your surroundings smothered in the scent of the steaming cooked breakfast and freshly brewed tea you prepared, faithfully.

"fuck me," he groans, dragging himself around the spacious bedroom, begrudgingly getting ready for the day, "s'gonna be so mad."

Simon could hear the faint pitter-patter of your feet as you danced around the kitchen, fretting over what you should cook today for the both of you.

"Baby!" You call out, looking through the ingredients, "Pancakes and bacon? How bout it?" The thought was a bit mouthwatering, there weren't many things at the moment better to you than some syrup-covered buttermilk pancakes and crispy bacon.

"y'know I'm fine with it." Simon calls back, fastening his attire promptly, "Everything you make is delicious." His attempt to butter you up.

Which doesn't fall flat— you soak it up as if you were just like the pancakes you were preparing, dubious as ever to what was in store for your morning. You noted that the tone of his voice was preppier, more awake than usual. You briefly questioned why he even was fully awake, seeing as you were usually the one to drag him out of bed in the morning. Literally.

Simon, still dwelling in the bedroom, shakes his head, stumped on how to go about this, in a way wanting to just slide out of the front door and ultimately deal with the consequences later but that'd be too rude. Too disrespectful.

"Love," Simon calls out to you, the combat boots strapped to his feet sounding thunderous as he finally rounds the corner into the quaint ivory plastered kitchen.

"yes," you sing, your mouth upturns into a small smile, "I'm actually almost done. I had already made the dry mix, remember before that recipe I found, I just had to add the eggs and but-" Your sentence falters as you gaze up at Simon, eyes going up and down taking in his wear, you weren't a fool and picked up on the circumstances quickly.

The pout that pulled your lips down was instantaneous. "No."

Simon steps towards you, "I know love, they just called me. There s'nothing I could do. I'm sorry."

"mornings are for us." You whine— you didn't want him to go. You wanted to finish cooking and take your rightful seat in his lap while you fed both of you breakfast. You wanted his heavy head to lay on your shoulder, leaning up occasionally to nibble on the bites of food that you pressed to his lips. You wanted his muscular arms to wrap around you, holding you tight against his broad frame as you babbled about any and everything. You wanted that every morning and wouldn't be subjected to change.

"I know," Simon repeats, attempting to move closer to you but the attempt was futile. You blew air into your cheeks, slightly puffing them as you turned back to the stove. "the food." you grumble.

Yes, you knew what Simon's job consisted of, you knew that it required of him to be available at times, even if they were inconvenient. Were you being unreasonable? Slightly. Could you see through your heedlessness? Not at the moment. You couldn't help but feel wronged like this was to spite you.

The silence lingered for some time until you broke it, "when do you have to leave?" you reluctantly ask, absentmindedly tapping the fluffy pancakes with your spatula.

"got'to be there by 6," Simon glances down at his wristwatch, "I should be out the door in the next 15 minutes." His gaze was swift to shift back to you, perturbed by your behavior.

Your shoulders hump, movements becoming a tad more aggressive, "Well guess I have to hurry." The comment is not as endearing as it seemed, there was a snarky nuance to it.

Simon wasn't oblivious to your attitude, he knew the little backhand comment was supposed to be a jab at him but the animosity didn't resonate. He found the slightest of amusement with your current demeanor. The almost undetectable smirk was amiss from your view since your back was to him. He found your displeasure the least bit adorable. Anger wasn't a reoccurring emotion for you, there was no familiarity but when you did encounter it, it could be misplaced at times.

You were upset and it showed easily; it was evident in your expressions, fluid in your movements. Regardless of how you felt, you still packed the heaping breakfast in his sack, and bottled up his piping hot tea, momentarily wishing for him to burn his tongue later on, before pushing his belongings into his hardened chest.

Your hands momentarily brushed against his pecs, recoiling from the touch as if he'd burnt you, dramatics in full effect until your wrists were clasped in one of his large worn hands, reeling you back into him.

"I'll be back," he reassures, looking down at you even though you refused to look up at him, " y'know this." His declaration falls on deaf ears, yet still, he pushes forward, inching his lips closer to your forehead to leave his standard kiss, "I always come back to you." He whispers, lips almost flush with your skin.

Before he can, you pull away, an action that shocks you both. It was unfamiliar to you both, upsetting in many ways but no more than the other.

"stop being a brat," Simon says, his eyes now hard, glaring "You've been playing this little game for too long. Enough." His gaze is unwavering as he once again inclines towards you, his pace treacherous, but to his displeasure you still deny his affection, pulling away from him, prompting him to snag your chin between his fingers, now forcing the eye contact.

"Keep on, y'know this is a game I can play really well."

Later that day...

"feels s'good," your voice whines, breath hitching ever so often from the stimulation Simon gave you. Your head is fuzzy from his calculated touches, eyes unfocused from the momentous pleasure, "m'gonna cum."

"like hell you are," he reproves, "keep those legs up."

Simon's right hand latches on to your thigh, applying a bit of pressure as he nestles between them. He fists his angry cock in his other hand, purposefully nudging your clothed cunt in the process. His movements were harsh, self seeking, paying no mind to your throbbing pussy as it drooled through the thin fabric of cloth that separated your bare flesh from his.

"brats like you don't get to cum." He condemns, his voice laced in the disappointment he felt, "don't deserve t'cum."

Your thighs trembled under his hold, "I do, I do." you cry, chest rapidly rising as the knot in the pit of your stomach grows, begging to be undone. He was ruining you, he was showing you why certain games were too dangerous to play.

"but you don't," he grunts, he fucks his palm faster, crowning your aching clit. The hand that was on your thigh plants you, knowing as you try to roll your hips and meet the thrusts of his cock.

"please! please! Si!" You beg, tears threatening to fall, "mmm fuck-" His bottom lip slips between his teeth, he blatantly ignores your pleading, instead he focuses on his orgasm as his hot cum paints your cunt through the skimpy cloth. His touch is gone as soon as he's sated, leaving you high and dry.

"like I said, brats like you don't get to cum."

Press this 💨❄️❄️

[erwinsvow]

we need more moment where shy!reader was studying and practicing new things to show rafe!! ik that girl is so kinky and it’s always the shy girls <33

YESS omg i srsly love that drabble when i reread it im like she was cookin.. i feel like shes the type to try to prep herself with a dildo bc she can never take all of rafe but imagine he found it n was like ?!!?

really—your boyfriend was too big. it was excessive, and though you could never find the words to tell him to stop or slow down—mostly because you didn't want him to—he always did anyways.

no matter how much you insisted that you could take all of him, rafe didn't like to listen. so you were stuck in a conundrum, and your choices were either lying to your boyfriend that it didn't hurt or accepting the fact that he'll never be as rough with you as you want.

you were willing to sit down and accept a lot of things without a fight—but this was not one of them.

one discreetly wrapped delivery later, you had yourself your very own rafe-sized dildo—a pretty pink color and of such a size that it had your insides churning with anticipation. about half an hour later with the use of some lube and lots of work, you were successfully able to fit about three-fourths. it wasn't perfect, yet, but it was a work in progress.

you didn't want to overdo it and end up insanely sore either, and you were beginning to realize even half was enough to have you cumming over and over again. so much so that you almost forgot about the date you had planned with rafe for that night—scrambling to get up and get ready.

that night, after a nice date and way too much ice cream, you realized you were too fucked out from your afternoon activity to go for another round for rafe. it was no big deal—except it happened the next day. then the day after that. and the one after that.

you had mastered the rafe-sized dildo, and you could take the entire thing after week of practice. but it also meant that it had been a full week without your boyfriend fucking you—something that hadn't happened since you had lost your virginity to him.

a little too clueless around rafe like always, you hadn't realized anything was wrong. rafe was on edge—pent up and unable to keep taking out his frustration on the golf course after almost breaking one of his clubs—but you didn't really notice.

you were waiting for tonight, after another date to show him your new-found skills, but of course, he didn't know that.

getting ready in your bathroom, blasting music and doing your makeup, you don't even hear the door open to your bedroom. rafe came to get you early, knowing you would need more time but way too antsy to wait alone in his car.

he sits on your bed, listening to the muffled music from behind the closed door. he's not impatient with you and hardly ever like this, but the current situation had left him more desperate to see you than usual.

leaning against your headboard, he feels something under your pillow. lifting it to move whatever it was—knowing you, the book you had been reading last night—his jaw clenches when he sees it. a dildo. not just any dildo—a huge dildo. under your pillow like you'd just been using it or something.

the pillow stays in his hand but he has an overwhelming urge to chuck it across the room. was this the reason the two of you hadn't had sex in a week? were you finding pleasure from some stupid toy instead of him?

"rafe?" you ask, stepping out of the bathroom and staring at the scene in front of you with big eyes. you're distractingly pretty everyday but even more so today with a short skirt and done-up face for the date he's not sure if he'll be taking you on.

your face burns with humiliation—stupidly realizing you hadn't put the damn thing away after last night. rafe is looking at you and then looking back at your bed, his fist tight around your pillow.

"um, i-"

"do you wanna explain? i'll give you five fuckin' seconds to explain-"

"no, it's not what it looks like-"

"really, kid? what it looks like is you're fuckin' this stupid thing instead of me. y'know, i'll just fuck off and you can have fun-"

rafe stands, not really angry but still sounding like he is. it's more pent-up frustration bubbling up, but you rush over to him anyways, looking so panicked he feels bad the second he said anything. he can't stay mad at you for longer than a minute.

"it's not what it looks like, i swear-"

"what is it then, huh?"

"i was just practicing! i was just trying to get better for you. see, it's yours." you motion to the toy still on the bed.

"huh?" rafe asks, looking between you and the bed.

"it's you. see. it's like... your size. um-" you get flustered again, shutting up in the fear that you've just said something to rafe that you should have kept to yourself. "i'm.. sorry?"

"no you're not."

"no, but i feel bad. are your feelings hurt? i'm sorry."

when rafe glances back at you, tearing his gaze away from the bright pink that's beginning to hurt his eyes, he realizes how sad you look, thinking you've done something to upset him.

"no, m'fine. just.. tell me next time. it was a jump scare."

"okay.." you stay still infront of him, awkwardly playing with your hands waiting for him to say something. you're a little concerned rafe's still upset, but he doesn't seem to look it, rather looking at you expectedly.

"what?" you question immediately, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"what? get on the bed. you've had enough practice. time for the real thing."

[giannaln4]

Sick

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Your sickness got in the way of a romantic day Lando had planned for the both of you, but to him, making you feel better was way more important than anything. (3.1k words)

warnings: stablished relationship, sick!reader, mentions of throw up, extremely cheesy, fluff

a/n: i was supposed to post this last week when the request was made, i'm sorry it took me so long anon but i hope you like it! also i did make it a little longer and more dramatic than i had to. also this is the first request i post!! i have one more but please keep sending more ideas, i love reading what you have in mind

check out the original request here!

-> Prequel

↺ back to navigation— send me a request!

Lando had been sick last week, and you did everything to take good care of him, as much as you could. You carried medications with you, made sure he drank enough water, and gave him tea to help him feel better. You even cuddled him every night to help him sleep.

He was extremely grateful that you made sure to take good care of him. Having to give everything on track sure made it a little difficult, but he did get better eventually, and he said it was thanks to you.

What you never considered, though, was the fact that his sickness would get to you, but the next week, you felt it, and it was even more evident the night after the Austrian Grand Prix.

For some reason, it hit you harder, and the fact that you had been travelling so much didn’t help. You wanted nothing more than to sleep for days until the sickness went away, but Lando had other plans. With how busy he usually is, he always makes you his priority when he’s away from the track, so before going to bed, he shared the plans he had for the next day, including some activities that required you to get ready and leave the comfort of your home.

You both valued your time together, and you could tell how excited he was to take you out and spend the day with you, something that would also help him to take his mind off the events that took place that weekend, so you said yes.

The next morning, you felt him leave the bed, kissing your forehead goodbye as you turned around to face him.

“I have a little something to do before our date, but you can meet me at the restaurant so we can have breakfast together, yeah?” He whispered. You just nodded, and he kissed you again, whispering a little ‘I love you’ before leaving your room.

You went back to sleep as soon as he left, but the sound of your alarm woke you up an hour later. You grunted as you turned it off, looking at the time, knowing you had to start getting ready if you wanted to make it on time for your date, but your body felt so heavy that you couldn’t even leave the bed. 

Your current state was unfortunate, to say the least. A pounding headache, a runny nose, a sore throat, constant sweating, and intense body pain. There was no way you could go out.

It broke your heart to have to cancel your day with Lando, but you knew your body couldn’t take it and that he would understand.

Before notifying your boyfriend that you wouldn't make it, you looked up your symptoms to make sure you didn’t need to seek medical attention. The last thing you wanted was to end up at the hospital; you never liked them. You quickly came to the conclusion that it was a simple cold. You should’ve seen it coming; not only did you take care of Lando while he was sick, but you hadn’t been feeling the best the last couple of days and brushed it off, thinking you were just tired.

You sent him a long text explaining that you were sick and apologising a million times for cancelling the romantic day he had planned, feeling terrible for failing him.

You fell back asleep almost immediately, but sadly, not for long. Your body temperature suddenly dropped, making you shiver, so you brought up every blanket and tried to cover your entire body with them, but stopped when you suddenly felt hot again.

You were sure you had never been this sick; you were uncomfortable, your throat was incredibly dry, and your whole body was sticky from sweat. It even hurt to sneeze. You let out a loud moan in discomfort, and a few seconds later, you heard the door open.

“Sorry, I didn’t know if you were awake, and I didn’t wanna bother you,” Lando said softly, entering the room. He was holding a few blankets and pillows that covered his face, but you knew he had a worried look on his face. You covered yourself again, up to your head; you didn’t want him to see you like this, not when your hair was an absolute mess and your sleeping shirt looked like you took a shower in it.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had something to do,” you asked under the blankets.

His eyes softened when they hit the lump on the bed as he placed the stuff by your feet. “Don’t worry about that; I’m done for the day.” He approached you and kneeled next to you. “Hey, how bad is it?”

“It’s bad. I don’t wanna get you sick again,” you replied, your throat hurting every time you spoke.

“You’ll be happy to know that I don’t care.” He joked, but you remained silent. “I assume you didn’t have any breakfast yet.”

“No”

"Well, I bought you some soup. You should eat it while it’s still hot, it will be good for you.” He stared at the blankets, waiting for you to come out or at least say something "Baby, come on, let me see you.”

You appreciated him being there to take care of you; it truly warmed your heart, and all you wanted to do was show him how thankful you were, but what if he got sick again because of you? What if you look so bad right now that he will break up with you on the spot? “I don’t look good,” you finally muttered.

“What?” He chuckled, thinking you were joking.

“I’m sweating an insane amount; I can feel my hair sticking to my face.”

“Let me braid your hair so you feel less sticky on the face. I promise you’ll feel better.”

You thought about it for a moment and figured he wouldn’t leave even if you directly asked him to, so you uncovered your face slowly and shyly looked at him. “I feel really ill.”

“I know, baby. Tell me what hurts.”

“Everything. My entire body, the headache is terrible, and I get really cold, but after a second, I feel like I’m boiling.”

He touched your forehead as soon as he noticed your blushed face. “Baby, you’re really hot.”

“I know that,” you joked with a smirk on your face.

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t contain his laughter. “Good to know your sense of humour remains untouched.” He stood up and left the room, coming back in a heartbeat as he held a bowl of soup. “You’re gonna eat your soup while I braid your hair and I promise it will make you feel at least a little bit better.”

“My hair is all covered in sweat, though.” You sat on the bed, waiting for him to give you the soup.

“That’s okay. It’s hot, so please be careful.” You carefully took the bowl from his large hands, and you could see the steam that came off of it.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your eyes avoiding his as you blew on the hot liquid.

“You might feel hotter for a moment, but this is good; you need a lot of fluids. Now, I’m gonna sit behind you, okay?” You nodded, making enough space for him.

He struggled a little to get behind you, moving softly so he didn’t make you spill any of the soup. “Are you comfortable?” He asked when he finally settled.

“Yes”

“Ok, should I do one or two?” He started brushing your hair. You were right; you were sweating a lot, but he didn’t care; he just wanted to take proper care of his girlfriend, just like you did when he was sick. 

“Two”

“Okay. They might not turn out the best, though. I’m not a great hairstylist, but they will help.” You chuckled, knowing he was right, but that was the least of your worries. 

You stayed like that for a few minutes. It didn’t take him long to figure out how to put two braids on you without pulling your hair or making your headache worse. "Done,” he said, getting back on his feet and taking a good look at how you looked with braided hair. His heartbeats began to increase. “You look really cute,” he said as he tilted his head, admiring you.

Your face was burning, and it wasn’t the fever. “Thank you. I actually do feel much better.” And you did; you were surprised at how lighter your head felt without all that hair resting on your face or shoulders.

“See? I told you.” He then kissed his fingertip and tapped your nose with it, making you melt at his touch ”Finish your soup. I’m gonna see if we still have that humidifier.”

He stepped out of the room once again, leaving you alone. Somehow, you already felt better, even though everything hurt the same. But you had to admit that the hot soup was a good call.

Once you were done with it, you laid back down carefully, not wanting to ruin the freshly styled hair. And only a few minutes later, you heard the door again, “No luck with the humidifier, but this will help too.” You paid attention to his hands. He was holding a bucket and a dry cloth in one hand and a bottle of water and some pills in the other. “Just this one last thing, and I’ll let you go back to sleep,” he said, as if he was bothering you; you didn’t feel like he was. If anything, it was the other way around, and you should be the one apologising. He put down the bucket next to the bed and waited for you to sit again, this time paying attention to your damp shirt. “Why don’t you change into some new clothes?”

You looked down at your shirt and felt embarrassed when you noticed how much it looked like you had been drowned in a rainstorm. It didn’t look that bad before, but it must’ve been the hot liquids. “Okay,” you agreed, about to get up, but he stopped you.

He wandered around your shared room, grabbing clean clothes that he believed would be comfortable for you to wear. He didn’t want you to feel too hot or too cold again, so he went for a happy medium. A shirt and underwear. You probably shouldn’t deal with too many layers anyway. “Here, I’ll help you change.”

He helped you with everything, which you were really thankful for since your body was too weak and in pain to do it by yourself. Tossing the dirty clothes somewhere in the room, he proceeded to grab the pillows he had previously set on the bed and started arranging them around you to make your uncomfortable state a little more pleasant.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked, looking down at you, and you nodded in response, “Sure?”

"Positive.” Even your voice was weak.

After you were settled, he grabbed the pills and handed them to you, going for the water bottle next “This is for your headache.” He waited for you to take them and watched you get comfortable again. He then reached into the bucket and completely submerged the cloth, making sure all the excess water was cleared before moving it away from the bucket. He stroked it over your face a few times. “You’re all good now. Why don’t you try to sleep?”

You looked up at him in pure admiration, “Thank you, baby.”

“For what?”

“For taking care of me,” you rasped out.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t take care of my sick girlfriend?” You could swear you had literal heart eyes right now. “You took care of me when I was sick, and I´m pretty sure this is my fault.”

“It’s not your fault, but you should probably get out of here. I don’t wanna get you sick again, your home race is next.” 

He shook his head and sat on the chair that was a few feet away from the bed. “What if you need something and I’m not here?”

You smiled at him again, but suddenly remembered what you were supposed to be doing. He must’ve noticed the change in your face. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, kneeling next to you again as his hand rested on your cheek.

“Are you mad at me?”

“What? Why would I be mad at you?”

“For ruining our date.”

“Darling, we have a lifetime ahead of us. We have plenty of time to go on dates.”

Those words made you feel a million things at the same time, tears threatening to leave your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he replied, his smile so big and sincere that his dimples made an appearance. “Try to get some sleep, yeah?”

You went back to sleep, and luckily this time you managed to rest for hours. In the meantime, Lando stayed on the bed next to you, doing some work to stay busy and awake, while he kept an eye on you in case you needed him. 

The hours went by, and your fever went away, finally. You woke up around 4 PM, slowly opening your eyes and squinting at the sudden brightness.

You scanned the room looking for Lando, but he was nowhere to be found. You figured it made sense that he left. You didn’t really expect him to stay there all day and waste his free day just to be with you.

You tried to get up, but your body still felt heavy. You groaned in pain and fell on your back again, strangely still feeling tired even after sleeping for hours. Before you could try again, Lando was entering the room.

“You came back,” you managed to say.

“Yeah, sorry. I was just getting you some tea.” He approached you and touched your forehead, relieved that you weren’t hot anymore. “How are you feeling?”

"Better,” you replied, not so sure you wanted him to get worried. “I guess my throat still hurts.”

“I figured, but this honey and lemon tea will help with that.” He smiled at you but when you didn’t move, he could feel the worry come back to him “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like tea.”

“Tell your cold that.” You pouted like a little kid, but Lando’s face remained neutral as he waited for you to take the cup. “I know you don’t like tea, but I promise this will help. Besides, weren’t you giving me tea all the time when I was sick?” 

You gave in and took it, knowing he was right, and honestly, you would do anything to ease your sore throat.

You started drinking it, slowly but surely. It didn’t taste as bad as you remembered, and you started wondering if your mom was just bad at making tea. “Would you cuddle with me? If it’s not too gross.” You asked out of nowhere.

“Gross? Why-?”

“Because I have been sweating a lot, and it’s not like I took a shower yet,” you explained, a little embarrassed.

“Were you grossed out when I was the sick one asking for cuddles?”

You answered immediately, “No, but you weren’t this sick.”

“C’mon, don’t be silly.” He was happy you wanted to cuddle. Since he got there in the morning, he was concerned that you just wanted him out of there. Carefully, he got in bed with you, sitting against the headboard and getting into a comfortable position. He waited for you to lay down and nestled you between his legs, with your back against his front.

“Thank you for staying with me. I feel much better with you.”

“Really? Because for a moment there, it felt like you didn’t want me here.”

“I do, I really do. I just-” You stopped for a moment to think about your words “I don’t wanna be a burden.”

“Y/N, you know I would never think that.” He was brushing your check.

“Still, you wasted your free day and stayed here all day… for me. We couldn’t even go out like you wanted to.” You then felt guilty about your realisation. “Did you eat something today?”

“I did; I ordered something while you slept. I wanted to get some lunch for you too, but I wasn't sure for how long you’d be asleep. Are you hungry?”

“Not really,” he nodded, even though you couldn’t see him. “I’m still tired.”

Lando had been sick before, and he knew it was exhausting to deal with it, but he doesn’t remember a cold taking him down like that. Still, he agreed to stay there with you while you went to sleep. Again.

A while went by, and he didn’t notice when you started to drift off, but when he felt you shivering on top of him, he opened his eyes quickly.

You were freezing cold, to the point where your teeth were chattering, but your skin was so hot that he could melt chocolate on your forehead. He knew that your fever coming back and your temperature going up so quickly were bad signs.

“Y/N?” He whispered, softly moving you, “Y/N, are you okay?”

“Mhm?” You hummed. You were holding the blanket tighter and closer to your body.

“How are you feeling?” He kept a low voice, not wanting to overwhelm you.

“I’m freezing.” He was about to embrace you again, but was interrupted when you abruptly sat on the bed. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

He followed your actions and reached down for the bucket that was still next to the bed and placed it between your legs. ‘Not good,’ he kept thinking, rubbing your back for comfort “If that’s the case, then you’re worse than I thought, sweetheart; we might have to go to the doctor.” You didn’t like the seriousness of his voice.

“I don’t like hospitals.”

“Well, I don’t care whether you like it or not; your fever is coming back and you’re feeling nauseous. I don’t think that’s normal for a cold. You are literally shaking.”

“I’ll be fine. I just need to sleep a little more.”

“I know you don’t want to, but we really need to see a doctor.” You didn’t say anything, hoping he would just forget about that, but of course he wouldn’t. “Everything is gonna be okay. You’re here with me right now, aren’t you?” You stayed silent. “Come on, I’m gonna take you to the hospital, and I promise you’ll feel better, okay?” You nodded. You knew he was taking care of you, good care of you, but anything related to sickness, doctors, or hospitals scared you for some reason. “Hey, I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you. You’re safe with me. I promise,” he said, raising his pinky in front of you, satisfied when you locked it with your own.

[3seven-gambler]

#⌁꒰You using theiɾ shiɾt ; JJK men꒱

⋆ word count: 1276 ⋆ genre: fluff, suggestive. ⋆ includes: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, higuruma hiromi, toji fushiguro. no specified pronouns. ⋆ a/n: this is my first writing in months, so bear with me pls(╥﹏╥) -~~~reminder that english is not my first language~~~

࿐♡Ꮐꮻꭻꮻ Ꮪꭺꭲꮻꭱꮜ

Gojo had -surprisingly- woken up before you after a rough night you both share. He put on some sweatpants and made his way into the kitchen, deciding on preparing breakfast for both of you. While he was making your favorite dish, he sensed a presence behind him.

-"Good morning, beautiful" he said while turning around to face you. -"How's my princess/prince doing?" he then took complete notice of your choice of clothing that morning, this being one of his shirts, which showed just enough of your body for him to go feral. He could see all the marks he had left the night before all over your tights, as well as some of the marks in your collarbones, marks for only him to see (along with some others that might be for the public eye).

-"Seems you like what you see" you said with a sleepy but teasing voice.

Satoru kept looking at you for a few more seconds. He dropped what he was doing and walked over you, grabbing your face softly with both of his hands. -"You look stunning" he said with a soft smile while giving you small pecks all over your face, and then he gave you a grin -"Maybe I should fuck you more often~"

-"Gojo this is the fifth time we do it in less than two days-"

࿐♡Ꮐꭼꭲꮻ Ꮪꮜꮐꮜꭱꮜ

Geto was reading a book while laying on the bed of your shared bedroom. He was patiently waiting for you to come out of the shower so both of you could cuddle for a while before preparing dinner.

-"Hey, sorry for making you wait" You suddenly say while opening the bathroom door.

Suguru drifts his eyes from the book to your figure, watching as you grab one of his shirts to put above your breath taking body.

-"Don't worry, my love, I don't mind waiting for you." He said while staring at you.

-"Is something wrong?" You said as you take notice of his staring.

-"Mh, no, not at all." He said smiling fondly at you.

You crawl into the bed and Geto leaves the book by his side, turning your way to hold you. You notice how he still has his eyes glued to you. Before you could ask again, he spoke.

-"Maybe I should toss all of your clothes and make you wear mine." he said while softly while caressing your tights. -"But at the same time, if you wear my clothes everyday, I don't think I could hold myself..."

࿐♡Nꭺɴꭺꮇꮖ Ꮶꭼɴꭲꮻ

For Nanami's dislike, he had to go home later than usual. It was Friday, meaning that you and him were going to spend time together. Every weekend you would spend time in each other's houses, and this time it was your turn to stay in Kento's house. He phoned you earlier, telling you that he was going to be late and saying how sorry he was. You brushed him off saying it was ok, that you would make dinner alone for you both. He told you it wasn't necessary, that he could grab some food on his way home but you insisted of making it yourself.

Later on, you went to his house. Opening the door with a spare key he had given you a while ago, you made your way inside. Before starting to cook, you went into Kento's bedroom to get change into more comfortable clothes, but noticed that you haven't brought your pajamas.

-"Oh, what should I use then?" you asked to yourself. You looked up and saw a pile of old shirts that your boyfriend usually uses in the comfort of his house. You smiled mischievously and grabbed the one he uses the most, and then you were ready to start making his favorite dish.

A few hours later, when dinner was almost done, you heard some noise coming from the front door. -"Y/N, I'm here" you heard your beloveds voice.

-"Kento! Hi! I'm in the kitchen!" You said happily.

Nanami quickly made his way into his kitchen where he was greeted not only with an amazing smell coming from the oven but with the most stunning view he had been waiting to see all day. You, all cute in his shirt. Wait, his shirt?

You took notice of this and said -"I'm sorry for this." You said grabbing a bit of the shirt -"I forgot my pajamas at my place so..." You couldn't finish since Kento's lips were on yours.

-"Move in with me." He says in a pleading yet mandatory way.

࿐♡ꮋꮖꮐꮜꭱꮜꮇꭺ ꮋꮖꭱꮻꮇꮖ

It was late. As it usually happends. And he knew. But he couldn't do much about it. Work has been more troublesome these recent weeks, and all Higuruma could think about was coming home to you. He was more than thankful to have found someone as patient as you, since this is not the first time he comes home late. As he goes inside the house, he calls your name, quickly making his way to the living room. His anxiousness calms down when he sees your angelic sleeping form, hugging a pillow as if your life depended on that. He lets out a soft chuckle and before waking you up he takes full notice of what you were wearing.

-"Of course you grabbed one of my shirts" he said smiling to himself. It isn't the first time he sees you in one, since you had asked him a few times before for his permission to wear one. But every time he sees you wearing his clothes, he gets giddy with excitement.

-"Hmm? Hiro?" You said almost in a whisper.

-"Hello baby, I'm home" He said sitting by your side.

You let go of the pillow you were hugging before and you sat on Higuruma's lap, hugging him instead.

-"I missed you" you said hiding your face against his chest.

-"I missed you too sweety, you have no idea how much I did" he said hugging you back.

࿐♡Ꭲꮻꭻꮖ 𝖥ꮜꮪꮋꮖꮐꮜꭱꮻ

He told you not to worry about the rain, since he was sure that it wasn't going to drop. The both of you had planned to go out on a date, but it seems that the weather had other plans for you.

-"I'm never trusting you with this again!" You said while running to his place.

All he could do was laugh. When you were both at the entrance of his flat he said -" 's just water, sweetheart"

-"I know that! But I'm all soaked wet and cold!" You said pouting.

-"Mhhm? Is that so?~" he purred into your ear -"I think I can help with that~"

You just push him away from you -"You can help me by giving my dry clothes" you said crossing your arms.

-"Whatever... You can grab something from there" he said pointing to his bedroom.

You went on and opened the wardrobe door. You were about to grab just one of his regular black t-shirt when you notice a white shirt hanging out there, being one of the only -if not the only- white piece of clothing there. You quickly changed and went over where your boyfriend was.

-"Are you going to take a bath?" You asked to get his attention.

-"Yeah, wanna jo-" he stopped talking as soon as he saw you -"Where did you find that?"

-"There" you said pointing to his bedroom as he had done before. -"Do I look good?" You said playfully smiling.

Toji felt no shame as he scanned you from head to toes. He suddenly grabbed you and tossed you on his shoulder. -"T-Toji?! What are you doing?! Put me down!"

"You, me, bath. Now." Is all what he said.

❥ 𝖱𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽. || 𝖣𝖮 𝖭𝖮𝖳 𝖱𝖤𝖯𝖮𝖲𝖳/𝖳𝖱𝖠𝖭𝖲𝖫𝖠𝖳𝖤.

[fairlyang]

Ready 🕷️

w/c: 712

pairing: husband!miguel o’hara x wife!reader

tags: 18+ smut. halloween special<3 giving out candy, he’s thinkin, breeding kink, pregnancy, unprotected sex (duh), creampies, dirty talk

kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

being miguel’s wife where you loved decorating for the holidays and being as extra as you could. so for halloween you found those cute inflatables to put in the front yard so the kids would know you’d be giving away candy.

you found such a perfect couples costume he found it hard to say no to because of your excited face.

he heard the doorbell ring and the trick or treaters have started for the night. he went downstairs from getting changed to find you bending down holding the bowl of candy to small kids.

you were complimenting them on their superhero costumes then waved goodbye. you shut the door and turned around to find your husband as handsome as ever.

“a real shame about that wig…” you joked and stepped forward to him, fixing the orange ascot.

“you’re fucking crazy if you thought i was gonna wear a blonde wig…” he scoffs making you chuckle.

“well it seems i’m just more committed to the cause then.” you tease and pull away.

the doorbell rang once again and you quickly went towards the door, opening and gasping at the little princesses in front of you. their little hands reached into the bowl and it warmed your heart.

miguel was watching you closely, eyes softening and a small smile appearing on his lips just imagining you as a mom. you’d be the best, the most nurturing mom ever.

it’d be the cutest thing to have a daughter and for her to look just like you, your mini me.

this conversation has been talked about plenty of times, always going back and forth if you’re really ready.

but watching you be so sweet and affectionate tugged on his heartstrings way more than he expected. it usually did anyway but tonight was just different.

he was ready.

you closed the door and turned to look at him again, this time his facial expression was much different.

he looked at you in your daphne blake costume, looking so gorgeous in that purple dress and matching heels, that not so cheap looking wig and he knew what you’d be doing after all the candy was done.

it was a brutal two hours later that he was finally able to take you into your bedroom, lift your dress up, rip your pink tights, and ensure you’re coming out of the bedroom pregnant.

he had already came inside you once doggy style on the edge of the bed, then had you ride him which had you tired too quickly so you were just grinding back and forth. you quickly came up with the bright little idea to spell his name with your hips repeatedly and by the third time he realized what you were doing, having no choice but to cum again.

after placing a towel beneath you so the cum can leak out for a few seconds is when he decides to flip you onto your stomach.

so now you were fucked out of your mind, makeup destroyed, wig barely intact as he fucked you prome bone style but making sure his body was barely hovering over yours. you were feeling so sensitive but at the same time didn’t want him pulling out because he was fucking you so good.

he was hitting the right spot with every thrust, going even deeper than before, practically hitting your cervix as you moaned out for him, “fuck baby- p-please-“

he moaned into your ear then kissing the side of your neck as he felt his cock twitching again. if this didn’t make you pregnant, he’d just have to try again tomorrow. the whole day if that’s what it takes.

he was determined and mind set.

“gonna be so pretty when you’re pregnant baby.” he grunted and you clenched against him.

you both moaned, going back and forth with dirty words, “yeah? gonna make sure you fill me up baby?”

“it’s what you deserve, my love.”

“please don’t stop-“

“c’mon, let’s have that family we’ve dreamed of.”

“please give it to me-“

you turned your head to kiss him and with the sloppiest of thrusts and slow kiss, he spilled his last load into you murmuring sweet i love yous as you both came hoping three rounds would be enough

[alastorthirsty]

Cum Sluts vs Zombies - Alastor x f!reader

Well, @6esiree, I wrote you a goddamn novelette. At a whopping 10.3k words, I present you with pure, unadulterated Alastor smut.

Other tags: @valerie-is-in-the-cupboard @babyfoxflower

Warnings: None, really. Oral (f receiving), scenting, p in v intercourse, rut smut. Listen, we all know Alastor is a Bad Man™️ In this story and many, many others, Fucked Up Alastor is going to say Fucked Up Things. Alastor is a sentient red flag. I would like to kindly remind you that you need to carefully decide whether or not that's too much for you before you begin to read. I'd hate it if you read and got triggered by some possessive or otherwise red flag dialogue/prose! If it’s not for you you can simply block me and avoid my other fanfiction. You're responsible for your own reading experience! 💖💋

At four in the morning, it would be obscene even by your own standards to keep playing video games. You turn off the television in your bedroom and take off your headset, feeling the little bit of perspiration in your hair from the foam. You shake it out and stand up, nudge a few energy drink cans out of the way. Your joints creak. Your eyes burn just a little bit. But goddamn if Cum Sluts vs Zombies wasn’t a helluva time.

You shake yourself off, get a glass of water, get ready for bed. You had just gotten done brushing your teeth when you heard it.

The sound of absolute chaos—glass breaking, furniture hitting the walls, thumps, thuds, more shattering glass—and then silence again. The hotel went back to its usual late night quiet.

You stand there for a moment, still holding your toothbrush, just staring at the wall you shared with your neighbour.

The Radio Demon.

Never, in all your months of living side-by-side, have you detected a single peep out of him. Not even once, let alone the (albeit quick) cacophony you had just heard.

“Huh.”

You proceed with your nighttime routine, all the little serums and creams that keep your skin looking bright and soft all the time, and then another sound.

It was a deep, resonating moan; you drop a jar of cream onto the vanity. Something weird, fucked up, and potentially dangerous was going on, but that moan, that almost pained sound…

Goddamn it.

With a sigh, you make sure you look decent-ish and walk the short distance to Alastor’s door.

Your knuckles rap upon the wood. Twice. Silence. “Alastor?”

No response. You lean closer and knock again. “Alastor? Are you all right?”

Again, no answer. You frown, but It's probably nothing. It's probably just one of the weird voodoo things that he does. You tell yourself it's probably just that and turn to head back to your room.

But that moan, it was just so…

You sigh and knock one more time. “Alastor I’m going to feel really guilty if I leave and you turn out to be dead.”

You hear a soft click. That’s it. That’s the only acknowledgment you get. No answer. No verbal response. But the knob does turn.

You take that as a sign that you’re allowed to go inside.

You walk into the bedroom slowly, looking more to the floor than anything else, knowing there’s shattered glass everywhere. It litters the floor, glistening like little diamonds in the light coming in from the hallway—but the door suddenly slams shut.

You jump about a mile, and then a hand is around your waist. One very familiar hand. It slips down to your ass and he lowers his face against the back of your neck. You can feel his lips brush against your skin.

“So you decided to see if I was still in one piece, hmm?” His voice is a low, deep rumble against your skin. The sensation gives you chills.

“I sort of had to,” you say, utterly still.

“Oh, you had to?” His tone is mocking and the hand on your ass gives a squeeze. “Couldn’t bring yourself to just go back to your little room and keep gaming until the morning hours?”

“It’s past four, even I won’t game later than that. No, I put away my controller for the night, got ready for bed, and then I heard you break everything in your room. But that’s beside the point. Why is your hand on my ass, pal?” You ask.

“Hm, is that so?” He sounds skeptical. “I was expecting you to stay up all night. And why am I touching you?” He pauses, his hand squeezing again. “I want to, isn’t that reason enough? You’ve spent too much time running away from me lately. I don’t like it. Come here.”

You dance away from him, carefully avoiding debris all around you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, there you go, avoiding me again.” He doesn’t try to come to you, though, he remains standing beside the door, watching you very closely.

You notice something weird. You notice several things that are weird. He looks…out of breath. Sweat glimmers against his skin, his normally coiffed hair is mussed, his eyes are heavy-lidded and his breaths sound raspy.

“I’m going to ask you something very straightforwardly,” you say.

He cocks his eyebrow and leans against the door. “Go on, then.” His tone is casual, but his body language is…peculiar.

His jaw cracks, a tension he never shows; you’ve never seen a smaller smile on his face.

You gesture to him, to the shattered glass and broken furniture strewn all across the dimly-lit room. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He actually falters a little at your tone, his eyes go wide, then narrow at the accusation. “Why is something wrong?”

His voice is still calm, too calm for…whatever this was.

“Okay then,” you say, clapping your palms together. “You’re alive. You’re weirder than usual and you’ve broken all the things, but I’ve satisfied the need to know you are, in fact, as alive as you were since the last time I saw you. Goodnight.”

“Don’t.” His voice is short, sharp, and has a clipped edge to it that you’ve never heard from him before. (Not that you ever much listened.) “Don’t you dare leave.”

You take a deep breath and shift your weight to your other leg. “Do you need me for some reason? What is it?”

Alastor is silent a long moment, his eyes boring into you. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter, hoarse. “Lock the door.”

“That is the opposite of what I’d like to do,” you quip.

“Damn it, just do it, all right?” His voice is almost a shout. The tension is back, his clawed hands are clenched into fists, his breathing is ragged.

Oh, this just wasn’t right at all. You were not enjoying yourself the tiniest bit, not as radio static became louder and louder in the room…

You find your resolve anyway. “Alastor, you’re the one leaning against the door. If you want it locked, you lock it.”

There’s another long moment of silence.

You watch him straighten up, his fist clenched around the knob behind him. He takes a deep, shaky breath. “You’re sure you want to test my patience right now, little girl?”

His voice is soft, low, and dark. The radio pops fall silent. Everything…everything becomes silent.

“Oh.” You take a deep breath, heart picking up the pace. “You just want me to get close to you again.”

“Ah, there you go. So clever, my dear.” He takes a step forward, the movement slow and careful, strangely almost as though he’s afraid he’ll stumble if he moves too suddenly. He stops a few feet from you, just looks down at you for what feels like an eternity. Then his eyes narrow again.

“Take that jacket off.” His voice is still quiet, still hoarse, but there’s an underlying current of need that pulls the air from your lungs.

You stand there in silence for a time before shaking your head. “Nope!”

“Oh, so you’re going to be stubborn, then?” He crosses his arms, looking down at you with one eyebrow cocked, then he growls. “Either take it off or I’ll take it off for you. Don’t push me in this state, darling, I’m already at my limits.”

“At the limits of what, Alastor? What’s happening to you? Why did you break everything? Why are you all messed up? And why is it so fucking hot in here?” You throw your hands up with abandon. “Answer me.”

There’s another long stretch of silence.

His breathing is ragged and the sound is loud in the quiet room. His knuckles are strained from how hard his hands are clenched into fists now.

He closes his eyes, his head tilting back, and the sound he makes is soft, almost too quiet.

A soft groan, just low enough that you almost miss it.

…That little groan leaves you breathless, catches you in the chest, and you just look at him.

His eyes snap open, but this time they’re…different. His pupils are blown wide, and there is a desperate, hungry look to them that you’ve…definitely never seen before.

He takes a step forward, lunges at you, his hands grabbing your wrists and grasping them to his chest.

“Goddamn it, please…” His voice is soft, hoarse, and full of need.

You’re trembling, but not altogether from a place of the fear you’re meant to be feeling. “Please what?”

His eyes are still wild, desperate, and his breaths are coming in ragged gasps now. “Please, just let me touch you, darling.”

He moves closer, his hand tightening around your wrists.

The room is quiet, save for the sound of his breathing. After a few moments, you swallow and nod.

You nod, and he groans.

His hands leave your wrists, then move down your body to your hips. He pulls you against him, his hips grinding hard, insistently against you, his nose buried in the curve of your neck, and he breathes in deeply.

“Damn, you smell amazing…” He murmurs against your skin. His hands move lower, gripping your ass again, pulling you even closer.

His teeth suddenly close on the side of your throat. You’re not sure if the sound you make is due to pleasure or pain, or maybe a little bit of both, but it seems to drive him wild.

“You’re mine,” he growls against your skin. He’d never talked to you like that before. Hell, it’s possible he’s never spoken to anyone like this before. You’d never seen him lose control this way. Or…really, do anything at all like this. Or anything that suggested that he could.

His hands move to the buttons on your shirt, his fingers fumbling clumsily with them.

“Oh, hey, hey!” You say, flailing your arms for some fucking reason. “Hey! Al!”

“What?” He draws back a little, his face flushed, his eyes wild. “What is it, darling?” His voice is rough, his expression is dark, and his body seems somehow more tense.

You swallow and breathe out roughly. “What’s, ah, you know. What the hell is happening?”

Alastor makes a sharp, dismissive sound. “I can’t concentrate when you smell like that, darling.” He moves closer, leaning his forehead against your shoulder. He takes a deep breath, then groans again. His claws catch in the soft fabric spread over your belly.

“It’s like you’re teasing me, but I know you’re not, which just makes it worse…please, darling, just be patient with me for a little longer. And take your shirt off. Now.”

With shaking hands, you take off the jacket you’d thrown on before leaving your room, the one that Alastor had previously demanded that you remove. In the quiet of the room, you hear it fall onto broken glass, the little chips settling underneath it. Alastor’s muttering something that you can’t really focus on at the moment. He keeps moving, but his face remained pressed against your neck, breathing in heavily. He grows quite apparently frustrated with your lack of progress and pulls your shirt open, the buttons flying.

You feel him shiver just as you gasp.

He is utterly silent, but you can feel the way his body tenses at the sight of your bare skin.

He stops breathing. Just for a beat.

His hand is large, warm, and surprisingly gentle as it skims over your skin. His touch leaves a burning sensation in its wake. Being at his mercy like this…

His breathing is still ragged, but now yours matches his. His hands are shaking slightly; he doesn’t seem to be trying very hard to hold himself back anymore. He pushes your shirt off your shoulders, lets it fall to the floor. His hands skim up your sides, fingers trailing along your ribs slowly, his touch leaving burning lines across your skin.

What a time to remember you had not put on a bra. The room was still stiflingly hot, and Alastor’s skin felt even hotter.

He’s muttering again.

“What?” you ask.

“I said Goddamn, you’re beautiful.” His fingers trail over the curve of your hip, then lower to the little patch of skin just above the waistband of your pants.

He murmurs something that might be a curse, his body tense against yours.

“Do you have any idea how hard I have to focus to keep under control when I’m around you?” His voice is rough, full of need. You still can’t see his face. “You smell so damn good, your voice is like silk, you’re so damn beautiful, do you have any idea how tempting you are?”

All of this is new and overwhelming information. “Like, now, or in general?”

“Now specifically. Right now. I’m at my goddamn limits trying to control myself.” He finally lifts his head, his eyes a dark crimson. He looks at your exposed chest and lets out a ragged moan. “God, I need you, darling.”

You tilt your head. “So wait, this is you holding yourself back?”

“I suppose.” He leans his forehead against your shoulder again, his hands still trailing over your bare skin, one finger tracing over the shape of your nipple. “Right now you’re practically dripping with desire. I can smell it, and it’s torture for me to keep myself from just pushing you against the wall and taking you right now. You have no goddamn idea how hard I’m having to try not to do that, darling.”

“I would prefer something horizontal,” you say, and not entirely to lighten the steadily darkening mood of the conversation.

He groans, that goddamn sound, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to hurt, his body tense and shaking against yours.

“Damn you, saying things like that. You’re killing me, you know that, don’t you?”

He draws back, and you finally get a good look at him.

He looks even more wrecked up close.

His hair is mussed, his expression fierce and hungry, his eyes dark and wild. His skin is flushed, and his breathing is ragged.

“Come here,” he murmurs, one hand gripping your wrist and pulling you towards the bed.

You follow along, still trying to avoid the debris he was just pushing straight through. Nothing was stopping this guy, he was a force. He sits down on the edge of the bed—one that you swear was not there when you first came into the room—pulling you closer until you’re standing directly in front of him.

His hands move to the waistband of your pants, unbuttoning them, looking up at you.

“I need you, right now.”

“Hey!” You still his hands and squeeze them hard enough to make him cock a brow at you. “I will absolutely not be entirely naked before you’ve so much as taken off your coat!”

His expression is stunned for all of an instant; he hadn’t expected you to be bold enough to do anything like this.

Then it changes to a smirk.

“Are you ordering me, darling?”

“No!” You shake your head. “No, but I am making a strong pronouncement.”

He chuckles, a low, dark sound in the near-silent bedroom.

“Strong pronouncement, is it?”

He slowly stands, letting go of your wrists, then shrugs out of his coat. He carefully folds it and sets it aside, looking all too amused.

You tilt your head, looking up at him. “Everything in here is broken and you fold your coat? Really? You’re so weird.”

“Oh, I’m weird,” he laughs. “And just how, exactly, am I ‘weird?’”

When you look up at him, you realise just how much he towers over you. At full height, you only reach his shoulders.

He lifts a hand, skims his fingertips over your cheek, down your jawline, then under your chin and lifts your face up to his.

His eyes are dark, full of want. “Is it because I think you’re beautiful?”

You shake your head. “Nope, that’s completely normal.”

He laughs again, his hand still beneath your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Is it the fact that I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life? That’s ‘weird,’ is it, darling?”

Unlike him, your fingers don’t fumble with the buttons of his shirt. He has every opportunity to try and stop you, but he doesn’t. If anything, he maybe shifted to make it easier for you—but you couldn’t tell. Your fingers never faltered, but it didn’t stop all the screaming going on in your skull.

He’s silent as he stands there and allows you to undress him. His eyes are dark, half-lidded, but he makes no move to stop you.

He’s tense, though, you’d have to be blind not to notice it. His hands are fisted in front of him, and he’s not as relaxed as he wants you to believe.

You pop the last button and his red shirt hangs open, revealing his bare chest. The scars stand out right away, but you just push the shirt off his shoulders and then something strikes you.

You’re both half-naked with nary a kiss taking place.

Now you’re dead set on remedying this absurdity, yanking him down to your level.

A shocked gasp escapes his lips and he leans into you, his large hands gripping your hips, his mouth crushing against yours. It’s rough, and eager, and hungry, and God it’s passionate.

His tongue slides against your lower lip, and he actually whines in the back of his throat in frustration when you don’t immediately let him inside your mouth.

He kisses you again, and this time you do let him inside. His tongue presses against yours, exploring your mouth as if he was desperate (well, it’s now quite clear how desperate he really is) and trying to consume you completely.

His hands grip you harder and he pulls you against him until your body is pressed flush against his. He growls against your lips, his breath ragged, his grip on you almost painful.

He pulls back from the kiss only long enough to mutter: “Bed. Now.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You already stood at the edge of it, so you pushed him down onto it and crawled on top of him, kissing him again.

He groans, leaning his head back and allowing you to take control just this once, although his fingers dig into your hips like he wants to force you to be even closer.

His mouth slides to your jaw, kissing and biting at the skin there, his breath ragged and scalding against your skin.

“Goddamn, you’re perfect, darling.”

His hands release their grip on your hips, his fingers trailing feather-light over your exposed skin, then down so they’re gripping your thighs.

His mouth moves to your ear, his teeth closing on the lobe for a brief second before he murmurs, almost inaudibly “I want you, darling. I want to feel you. I want to touch you, to taste you, to devour you.”

He rolls you over so you’re lying on your back beneath him, his large body pinning you against the mattress, between him and the bed.

He looks down at you, dark eyes burning into yours, his ragged breaths coming faster and faster.

“I need you,” he repeats, leaning down to kiss your throat. “God, I need you so much, darling. Just the smell of you is driving me insane, even right now. I want you so goddamn badly.”

Your head is spinning. Sounds cliche, sure, but that’s the experience that you’re dealing with at the moment. His scent is affecting you heavily now that he’s on top of you and you can almost feel it all over you. You look up at him and something is slightly off. You look a little further up and gasp.

“Alastor, your antlers!”

He lifts his head and blinks, almost as if you had spoken a different tongue.

“What about them, darling?”

“They grew! They’re not little lobster claws anymore!”

He looks a little surprised, and confused, and then he reaches up, feeling one of the newly formed antlers with his fingers, as if disbelieving.

“Ah hell,” he mutters, then looks down at you again. “They only grow when I’m at my most—”

He stops himself with a sharp inhale. “Damn it, I knew I was close, I just didn’t realise how close.”

“What?” you ask. “What is the center of this goddamn mystery, Alastor? This is beginning to feel like a mystery box, like if David Lynch tried his hand at an erotic radio show set in 1930.”

He laughs, still sounding ragged, and a little strained. “It’s not a mystery, darling, although I do enjoy how curious and eager you are about this. They grow when I’m near my rut.”

“Let’s just say I understand fully what that is. You mean it whatever the hell this is hasn’t even fully hit yet?”

“No, not yet, but it’s damn close.” He looks down at you, and you can see the heat in his eyes, the look that’s almost pleading with you to help him find some sort of relief from this. “I’m going to get very desperate, very soon.”

You nod a few times. “Okay. I’ll get you through it.”

“It will be a hell of a ride, darling,” He looks down at you, his eyes dark. “Are you sure you understand what you’re getting yourself into?”

“Not even a little bit,” you say with a smile, shaking your head.

He laughs again, but this time it’s a low, dark sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “That’s all right, darling. I’ll do all the hard work, you just have to let loose and let me take care of you.”

You hold up a finger. “That’s doable—if.”

He cocks an eyebrow, looking faintly amused. “If? What exactly are your conditions, darling?”

You look him dead in the eye. “I want to touch one of your fluffy, fluffy ears.”

A laugh bursts out of him, and he leans his head back. “That’s it? You’re willing to put up with my ruts for one touch of my ear?”

You wink at him. “They just look so fun to touch and I’ve always wanted to.”

He laughs again, then shakes his head, a smile on his face. “All right, darling, you can touch them as much as you like. Just remember that when you’re screaming my name later.”

“Are they sensitive? Will it hurt you?”

“They’re sensitive, yes, but I trust that you won’t hurt me.” He gives you a smirk. “Or is that what you want? You want to make me beg?”

You gently trace your fingertip from the base of his ear to the tippy-top. “This can make you beg?”

He shudders, his eyes fluttering open and closed, his hips grinding against yours. “God, yes.” His voice is raw, and ragged, and needy, and you’ve barely touched him.

“What about your antlers?”

“You want to touch those, too?” he asks, still shuddering.

You touch the base of his ear again. “Do I have your consent?”

“Yes, darling, you do, but—” He’s cut off by a moan as your fingers trace down the base of his ear, making his eyes flutter shut again.

“But?”

His eyes are half-lidded again, dark with need. “They’re sensitive in a very animalistic kind of way, darling, that’s the best description I can give.”

“Okay, now I have to,” you say, and very, very gently trace your fingertip along the new points that had grown.

Another shiver runs through his body, and he groans. Then, he looks down at you, and his eyes are blown wide. He looks absolutely feral.

“Darling, I love the way you touch me,” he murmurs. “But if you keep it up, I won’t have a damn bit of self-control when my rut fully hits.”

You chuckle softly. “Decisions, decisions.”

He growls, low and needy, and you realise that he’s just barely holding it in.

“Darling,” his voice is strained, and he takes deep, ragged breaths, “just remember, when we begin I will not hold back.”

He kisses you again, and his body is tense, his hands gripping your hips so hard it almost hurts.

“I’ll take good care of you, darling,” he murmurs between kisses. “But I’m going to be rough. I want to hear you moan my name, I want to hear you cry, I want to hear you beg. Do you understand?”

“Promise?” you ask, breath coming a bit more quickly.

He groans again, his hips grinding against yours. “God, you’re so goddamn perfect. You have no idea what it does to me when you speak to me like that. And yes, darling, I swear it, I’ll take good care of you.”

He kisses you again, and his hands move to your waist again, sliding down your stomach and lower than that, one hand pushing your legs apart.

Damn it, your pants were still on. “Hang on, Al, help me just…”

He pauses for a moment, then grabs the waistband of your pants and yanks them down past your hips, pulling them off your legs and throwing them somewhere into the room.

“That seems about right,” you say, then trace your finger along his ear again.

His eyes flutter shut, his breath still ragged. “You’re going to drive me insane, darling,” He murmurs, his hand sliding further up your thigh.

You wink at him as his fingers move higher and higher.

He chuckles dryly, his fingers skimming over your skin.

“So bold, darling." He kisses the sensitive skin of your neck. “So willing. Have you ever been touched like this before, darling?”

“Well…” Your breath hitches. “Not since I arrived in hell, for sure. It’s hard for me to remember before.”

“Hard to remember?” He laughs. You can feel his breath against your skin, hot and ragged, his fingers sliding even further up your thigh. “Don’t worry, darling,” he murmurs. “I’ll make you remember.”

He kisses you again, hard and eager and needy, pushing your legs apart. He kisses your jaw, then your neck, then lower, until he’s between your legs.

He kisses your stomach, kisses your hipbone, and then looks up at you, dark eyes burning into yours, his voice soft and eager. “Are you ready, darling?”

“F-fuck yes,” you whisper.

He laughs, low and dark, his thumbs stroking your inner thighs. “Then I’m going to make you scream.”

He kisses your inner thighs, and God, it feels so good, but you can feel his antlers brushing against your skin every time he moves. It’s a completely different sensation of having something hard and sharp-tipped rubbing against you, and it’s incredible.

He kisses every inch of skin he can, but he takes his time, teasing you. His fingers grip your thighs like he doesn’t want you to pull away, but his mouth never goes any further than that until finally he looks up at you again, his eyes still dark.

“I’m going to taste you now, darling. Are you ready?”

Oh, God. This was really happening. It wasn’t a dream. You think over all the little moments that led you here, his body on top of yours. You touch one of his antlers and nod, biting your lip.

He kisses your stomach again, so close, his breath ragged and hot against your skin.

“I want you to say it,” he murmurs against your skin. “Say that you want me to taste you, darling.” His hands grip your thighs again. “Say it, darling. Just a few more words and I’ll give you what you want. I don’t want you to hold anything back, so just tell me what you want.”

Your cheeks heat up and you look up at the ceiling, arms coming up to cover your eyes. All he can hear is muttering.

He laughs and you feel his warm breath against your skin. “You’re not listening, darling. I said I want to hear you.”

Ah, fuck. He was really going to make you say words, huh? Okay, fine, fine.

“Al, I want you to eat my pussy.”

He laughs. “Now, was that so hard, darling?” You feel his breath against you, teasingly close. “Now we can begin.”

He kisses your inner thigh again, his hands still gripping your legs, holding you in place. “I’ve been waiting for this a very long time, darling,” He murmurs against your skin. “I’m going to enjoy every inch of you.”

You almost snap. “You what?”

Alastor laughs. “I’ve been wanting you like this for quite a while, darling.” He kisses your thighs again, still keeping his hands where they are, holding you down, keeping you in place for him.

“Just the sight of you drives me crazy, and you’re so damn perfect, but like this? Oh, you’re absolutely gorgeous. I’m going to devour you, darling.”

You pant there for a moment as he moves, hand trailing through his hair“Well, I’ll be damned.”

He chuckles, a sound so unfamiliar in its familiarity. “Such an impatient little thing you are,” He kisses up your inner thigh, his nose nuzzling against it. “I’m taking my time.”

Your thigh tenses pleasurably, but he doesn’t allow them to close even a centimetre. “Alastor…”

“Just relax, darling, let me take care of you.” He has you bend your knees and wraps his arm around your thigh, gripping tight, squeezing just to make you squirm.

It’s his fingers that touch you first, grazing through your slick with a bit of a dark chuckle against your thigh, the cocky son of a bi—

Alastor slides two blunted fingertips inside you and there’s no resistance whatsoever. His fingers curl just right, making you cry out. You gasp and cover your mouth though.

“Darling, don’t you dare try to hold those beautiful sounds back,” he growls against your skin, and you can feel his breath, hot against you. “I want to hear every single sound you make.”

You’re trying your hardest not to squirm and failing miserably. “But I don’t want to disturb anybody!”

He laughs, still against your skin. “Darling, I don’t think anybody is here to mind.”

He does something with his fingers, making you moan despite your best attempts not to. “Besides, I don’t mind if they hear you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

The way he’s crooking his fingers so fucking casually, like it’s not got you shaking in his bed…

You freeze and then tremble when his tongue, hot and wet, perfectly complements that fucking crooking gesture. It’s like he has a roadmap of your fucking body and how to make you come in minutes flat.

And he takes damn good advantage of it. He’s clearly been paying attention to what you like, his fingers and tongue working in perfect harmony to make you writhe and gasp for him.

And it’s getting damn difficult to keep those sounds contained when he’s driving you mad like this.

“Make noise for me, darling,” he murmurs against your skin. “I promise, I don’t mind if someone hears you. Hell, I want them to hear you. I want everyone to hear how good you feel, how you moan for me.”

“Goddamn, Alastor, I can’t, I can’t—“

He laughs again, and goddamn, the vibrations against your skin makes you shiver. “Yes, you can, darling, you can do everything I want you to do.”

He pauses for a moment, then adds: “And I want you to say my name, darling, I want you to moan it.”

You groan, thighs trembling around his head. Points of his antlers constantly brush over your skin, your thighs, your belly, but never painfully. Each time it did, you could hear, feel him gasp and groan against your pussy. His lips circle your clit and he sucks gently.

You can hear his ragged breaths against you, his mouth working faster, more eager, his hands gripping tighter, but still staying in control, at least for now.

“Say my name, darling,” he murmurs between little flicks of his tongue. “Say my name and don’t hold back.”

“Oh, fuck fuck fuck, goddamn! Alastor, fuck!”

He laughs again, and it’s more of a dark purr this time.

“That’s it, darling, moan my name, that’s what I want to hear,” he growls against your skin, his teeth grazing your hipbone. “ Let everyone know whose name you moan, let them know who makes you feel this good.”

His mouth moves, kissing the inside of your thighs, his hands still keeping a tight grip on you, holding you steady for him. “Say it again, darling,” he murmurs. “Moan my name for me, and say you belong to me.”

You would say just about anything at all at the moment, but that, that stuck in your pleasure-addled brain, compounded by another come-hither movement on your g-spot. “Alastor…I belong to you.”

A low, dark sound escapes his mouth at that, and you realise that he’s struggling more than you thought. It’s clearly all he can do not to throw you down and fuck you like he knows you need him to.

“Again, darling,” he murmurs, lips fluttering against your clit. “Again. Tell me again, say that you’re mine.”

The sensations were new. You truly could not remember if you had done this in your previous life, but you were damn certain this is the best you’ve ever had. In this moment, you’ll do or say all the little nothings he wants to hear. “I’m yours, yours, I’m whatever the fuck you want!”

He groans again, and the sound vibrates against you, making you shiver.

“Again, darling. Say it again, keep saying it, I want to hear you say it. Keep saying that you belong to me."

There’s a need to his voice, an edge of desperation. He wants to hear it, needs to hear it, needs to know that you belong to him, and he will keep begging for you to prove it if he has to.

Your hips rise to meet his mouth. It’s all you can do not to grab ahold of both antlers and hang on for dear life. Both of you are lucky you still have any blood flow to your brain at all. Telling yourself that you’re compromising, you grab his hair again. “Yours, yours, all yours…”

You can hear his breath hitch, you can feel how he’s fighting to wait for the main course.

“Not good enough.” His voice is dark, desperate, hungry. “Say it again, darling, say it again, and say it correctly. I want to hear you say it. I want you to moan for me, and tell me that you’re mine."

You can feel his ragged breathing against you, and you can feel how strong his grip is on you, as if he thinks you’ll pull away.

You do your best to focus. You give it the old college try. Taking a deep breath, you grab him by the antler to make him look at you.

“Alastor, I will tell you exactly what you want to hear. Nod if you understand me so far.”

He blinks, but nods, his eyes still dark, still hungry, still watching you.

“You are wrist-deep in my pussy. Got me all over your face. You’re about to go into a rut. I belong to you. I’ll always be yours, and yours alone. Better?”

He looks stunned for a moment, and then he laughs, and the sound is a dark, low, hungry growl.

“Oh, darling,” he murmurs, his voice dark and eager. “That is far better. Just what I wanted to hear. You’re learning, darling.”

You nod, satisfied and momentarily relieved, thinking this part as all behind you now. “I’m learning!”

“Yes, you are,” He murmurs. “I might have to reward you, darling, you’re so good at listening.”

You’re just about to ask him how when he drags a deep, long gasp out of you, his lips coming around your clit again, his fingers stroking you inside—

It was an all-out attack on your senses, but he wasn’t even trying to drag it out any longer. Maybe he was getting impatient too, or maybe you’d finally sung enough of his goddamn praises to appease him for a fucking moment—

Oh, the sounds he’s making are downright vulgar. The slurp of his lips, the squelch of his fingers, probably in any other context would be horrific, but just for now they translate to a tightness in your body that grows and grows and grows—

Until it snaps.

All that screaming he wanted crashed against the walls of the hotel room, and you could hear that smug, arrogant prick give a breathy laugh, could feel it even as his fingers kept working you. Your thighs try their damndest to close, but Alastor, having none of that, keeps them wrenched open. You’re grabbing onto both antlers but he is not letting up for one goddamn second.

You can feel him grin against you. He’s so damn proud of himself. But he’s not finished with you, not yet.

“So, just so we’re clear, you’re mine, all mine?”

Your body shakes all over. “Yes yes yes yes!”

He laughs, his laughter dark and eager.

“That sounded so good, darling. I want to hear you tell me that again. Will you say it for me?”

“I-I…Al…I…” Could the man not understand that words were impossible with his lips still brushing against your poor, overstimulated clit?

He laughs becomes deeper, darker, then he places an almost-mocking kiss to your bud. “That won’t do, darling. I want you to say those words for me. I want to hear you moan them, loud and clear, say that you’re mine.”

Problem was, in your current state that was almost literally impossible. “Ffffuck, I…”

Alastor hums amusedly. “That still isn’t good enough, but it’s a damn good start. Now, say it, darling, say that you’re mine. Say that you’ll always be mine.”

It takes everything, absolutely everything in you not to break. Was that his goal? Well, probably, yes, to some extent it had to be. Why was he making you say all these meaningless things? Torture, right?

“A-Alastor, whatever you want. I’m y-yours, I-I-I…fucking Jesus hellfire, I’ll be yours forever, I promise!”

He smirks against your skin. “That’s perfect, darling, just what I wanted to hear. You’re doing so good for me. Just say one more thing for me, before we continue, and then I’ll give you your reward.”

“What?” you sob.

“Good, good girl. I’m almost tempted to tease you and keep you begging for me, just to hear your voice, your beautiful voice, say all those perfect things. Almost tempted. But don’t worry, my darling, I’m not nearly that patient, and I want to hear you moan. Can you do that for me, darling? Can you scream for me?”

Your mind despairs of the unfairness of the situation. You shiver and twitch as he still won’t let up. “I fucking am, Alastor! What more do you want from me?? Please, Alastor, please…”

He laughs, and god the sound against your skin feels amazing. Too amazing. You were still doing all you could to appease him.

He pauses, finally halting all contact with your aching flesh. He takes the hand that was between your legs and licks your juices from his fingers.

It’s a sight that makes your heart pound and a shiver run through you. His dark eyes meet yours again, and his voice is a low, dark growl. “You taste heavenly, darling.”

Your laugh comes breathily. “Why thank you.”

Another dark chuckle. The hand he used to touch you is still wet, and he licks it again, deliberately making sure that you’re watching. “Truly delectable, darling.”

“Here,” you say, pulling him down. “Show me.”

He gives an amused huff, but lets you pull him down. His mouth captures yours, and this kiss is deep, hungry, and you can taste yourself on his lips and tongue.

He moans against you, a deep, dark, hungry sound, and you feel his hands moving to your hips again. He pulls you towards him, until you can feel how hard he is against you.

“Are you ready, darling?”

Your cheeks heat up again, as if this man hadn’t been mauling your pussy for the last half hour. You smile, but cover your eyes before you nod.

“Oh no no no, no hiding your eyes, darling,” He murmurs, gently pulling your hands away from your eyes.

He kisses you again, and when he finally moves, lifting you, you feel how damn strong he is, how he’s able to lift you like you weigh nothing.

“What am I to do?”

Alastor laughs, and the sound is dark and eager. “You’ll see. For now, just keep your eyes open for me. I want you to look in my eyes when I take you.”

“Okay,” you say, letting him put your head on the pillows, “I’ll stay put and keep my eyes peeled.”

He kisses you again, a slow, lingering kiss that ends with a bit of a bite, and you feel another growl against your lips.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, “a very good girl. I need you to stay just like that, darling. Just relax, and let me take care of you. Can you do that for me?”

You give him a soft, almost affectionate smirk and reach up to gently play with his ear. “I think I’m up for that, yeah.”

He growls again, and you can feel his hunger from it. “Damn you, darling, you shouldn’t sound so damn sexy when you say that, you’re only making this harder.”

Your eyes meet again. There’s a dark hunger in his eyes, a need. “You’re so damn beautiful. You are going to be so very mine. All mine. No one else will ever get to see you this way, or I’ll kill them. I want you to remember that, darling, remember that you’re mine. Never forget.”

You nod, smiling up at him, and give him a wink for good measure. “Sure, Al. I’ll remember.”

Alastor seems to accept your assurance, at least momentarily. He wrenches your legs apart again and slots himself comfortably between them.

When he nudges your legs apart again, you’re more than aware of how big he is. Even through his clothes, you can feel him, and that shiver runs through your entire body.

“That’s a good girl,” He murmurs, “I want you to say that again, darling. I want to hear you say it again. Say that you belong to me."

You smile up at him, affectionately rolling your eyes, whilst reaching between you to unbuckle his belt. Time for the natural progression of things. You can feel how taut his nerves have become and think it’s almost sweet, how he managed to put you ahead of himself for a while. That deserves sweet nothings.

“I know, big guy,” you say. “I know I belong to you.”

He laughs wickedly and there’s an edge of relief to the sound. Your words have clearly helped somehow, as if they’ve soothed him in some way.

His mouth meets yours, but this one is rougher, almost desperate. You feel his hands grip your thighs, hard enough to make you whimper again against his mouth.

“Al!” You protest when you part.

He laughs again, and this time the relief is more obvious, almost as if he’s been holding back so much that your words are allowing himself a little more freedom, a little more room to breathe.

“I know,” he murmurs, his voice rough and eager, “I know I’m being too rough, I’m sorry darling, but I really want you. I’ve been holding back for so long, holding myself back. It’s getting damn hard to keep control, harder every second."

“Well, now’s the time for pants to come off and for things to commence,” you tell him.

Alastor lets out another huff and there’s a note of disbelief in it this time.

“God damn you, you’re perfect. You’re perfect.”

His mouth is rough again when it meets yours, rough and hungrier and desperate. His hands are on your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin, almost tight enough to bruise.

His tongue forces its way between your lips, and this kiss is rough, almost possessive.

Alastor’s trousers are finally kicked away and he’s between your legs again, rubbing through your slick as if to catch it—that’s a good thing, too, because it feels absolutely massive. You don’t want to make yourself seem like a (possibly) inexperienced little virgin so you don’t say anything, but you sure as hell feel it.

He leans over you, his mouth hovering over your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“Oh, darling,” he murmurs, “you feel perfect. So damn perfect. Say you’re mine. Tell me I’m the only one allowed to touch you, say it.”

There’s a note of hunger in his voice, a note of almost desperation. He knows that he’s lost control, that he’s barely holding himself together, but he doesn’t care.

You push his hair out of his eyes. The words come easily now, old hand. “You’re the only one allowed to touch me.”

He moans again, the sound sending a shiver up your spine, and pulls away just a little, looking you in the eye.

“Thank you, darling,” He murmurs, his voice rough. “Thank you for saying that.”

Immediately after he spoke those words, you could feel the thick heat of him force its way into your tight cunt. It burns somewhat in the way that it stretches you, but you also know that the height of your arousal is making it easier for the both of you. You look up at Alastor and see a look of concentration paired with relief paired with animalistic hunger.

Oh, dear.

He moans again, and you can hear just how much effort it takes for him to keep control, to not buck his hips.

You get a good grip on his hair as he bottoms out in you. Doesn’t hurt a bit. You hear the whine trapped in the back of his throat and your knees squeeze ever-slightly around his hips.

He growls, the muscles in his neck taut, every muscle and tendon visible in his neck, and his hands dig into the sheets beside you, shredding them and perhaps the top of the mattress as well.

“You’re mine,” He repeats, his voice low and dark. “You have no idea of ownership yet, but you’ll learn. Your soul may not be mine, but that changes nothing. Nothing, do you understand me? Now say it, darling, say that you belong solely to me, say I’m the only one that gets to touch you like this. Say it.” His voice is getting rougher, more desperate, with the slightest bit of threat that made you tremble with pleasure. That’s okay, you’ll unpack that later.

For some reason, you touch his face, your hand cupping his cheek. You could swear he leaned into it, just a bit. “You’re the only one. You’re it.”

Alastor’s eyes slide almost closed, as if you’re comforting him, as if your touch is what he needs.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, “that’s good, darling, that’s very good. Say it again, say that I’m the only one, say I'm the only one that gets to touch you like this, the only one that gets to make you feel like this, I'm the only one.”

Your eyes close and immediately his clawed hand grips your chin, forcing your eyes open.

Alastor slams in and out of you. “I warned you not to look away from me.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you cry.

His thrusting is rough, hard, as if he’s trying to prove a point, as if he’s trying to force you to remember that he’s in control, that he’s the one that gets to decide, that he’s the one that gets to make you moan.

“That’s better, darling. I need you to look at me, I need to see those pretty eyes of yours, I need to know that you understand. Promise me you’ll make me stop if I hurt you. Can you do that, darling? Can you promise?”

His cautious words bring a smile to your face. “Promise.”

He growls again, and he looks so damn sexy doing it.

“Good, that’s good, darling. I don’t want to hurt you, I have to be careful. It’ll be difficult, because I’m so damn hungry for you, but I need you to promise me you’ll make me stop if I get too rough, I don’t want to hurt you, I want to take care of you."

“I’ll give your left antler a big tug if it starts to hurt,” you say.

“Good, good, very good. That’s a plan, my darling. Now just keep looking at me, no hiding those pretty eyes."

You stare up into his eyes, soft focus. It takes more effort than you thought that it would, especially with him pounding into you—but it wasn’t hurting. He seems to know you on a sexual level, somehow, seems to know what makes your toes curl. He pushes your thighs further apart with one of his knees so he could get deeper.

“That’s a good little darling, that’s good. Don’t look away, don’t dare look away, I want you to always look right at me. I need to see those pretty eyes of yours, I need to know you’re looking at me, I need to know that you understand. Understand?”

“Yes, yes Alastor, I understand—oh, Christ, what are you doing to me?”

He chuckles, a low rumble. “I want to make you scream, darling, that’s all I want. I need you to scream. You look so perfect right now, and I need to hear you scream for me."

You change your grip on him as he gets deeper and deeper, making you feel so full. Alastor moves faster and there’s something, some magical configuration of pace, force, and position, that starts dragging those screams right out of you.

“That’s it,” he growls. “That’s perfect, perfect. Say my name, darling, go ahead and say it. Tell me what your body is feeling, tell me what I’m making you feel."

At this point you couldn’t give a fuck who heard. “Fuck, Alastor, you fuck me so good…”

Your walls flutter around his cock before clenching and it makes him grunt, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Good, that’s good, say it again, louder this time, let me hear you," he growls, as if he’s desperate to hear the words, "make me believe it, darling."

It’s hard to breathe in the heat of the room, the heat of him. It’s even harder, somehow, to keep your eyes open. You’ve no idea why, but the urge to close your eyes and hang onto him consumes you. You don’t, however, not wanting to upset him, not when he looks so fucking good.

You’d known, had it whispered to you by Angel long ago, how the Radio Demon…eschewed any kind of intimacy, emotional or physical. Seeing him like this, huffing on top of you, his cock dragging deliciously against your g-spot (he really had a knack for finding it and abusing the hell out of that knowledge), this was absolutely priceless. Precious to you, even. His antlers grew more pointed and as tempted you were to touch them, you didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. He was giving you pleasure, not pain.

He’s panting, and his eyes are dark and eager, his muscles taut, every muscles in his neck visible. He’s clearly holding back. He’s holding himself back, stopping himself from moving harder, or faster.

He’s waiting for your voice.

“Darling,” he almost growls, “say it. Say what I’m doing to you. Say it.”

You bite his lower lip experimentally, giving no verbal response (yet).

He groans, and his eyes slide almost closed.

“Fuck,” he swears. “Don’t tease me like that, darling, I’m trying to hold myself back. But then you keep making little noises and doing that stuff, and it’s making it hard, darling."

“You know, it’s really nice of you to try to keep things…you know, not painful for me. Can I ask why?” you ask.

His reply is somewhat impatient. “Because you’re my damn mate. Now tell me how I’m making you feel.”

That response makes you falter, but you try your best to talk anyway. “Alastor, you make me feel so full of you. You’re making it hard to think or even breathe.”

“Good,” he says, “that’s good, I want to make you feel like that, I want to take your breath away."

His hands grip your thighs, hard enough to probably leave bruises, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are dark and eager.

“Say more,” he snarls, “tell me more, tell me everything you feel, tell me everything you’re thinking, tell me all of it."

You rub the base of his ear. “How about you tell me, for once?”

He groans, and his eyes slide almost closed again.

“Goddamn it, darling,” he mutters, "you’re making this difficult. It’s hard enough trying to hold back already, but then you have to do all this little things, touching my ears, whispering in my ear, making me want to lose control.”

“Okay, fair enough, I won’t touch your fluffy, fluffy ear, but tell me anyway.”

He laughs, and it’s dark and eager. “You’re making me lose my mind, darling. Your touch, your voice, the way you smell, the way you taste, the way you sound, everything, all of it is perfect."

“What does it feel like to fuck me?” You pause. “How does it feel to fuck your mate?”

He pauses and he seems to shiver faintly.

“Goddamn, that’s a hell of a question," he mutters. "It’s almost overwhelming. It’s like there’s something inside me that needs this, that needs, this, needs you. I don’t know how to explain it better, but it’s never felt like this before. I’ve never felt this before, never felt like this, like, like I’m whole."

“Alastor…”

He looks at you, his pupils blown. “Yes, darling?"

You want to say something, but words aren’t coming. You kiss him instead.

He moans into your mouth, his eyes sliding almost closed, and you can feel him almost tremble against you, as if he’s in ecstasy, as if he’s overwhelmed by this.

“Damn it, darling, don’t tease me like that," he mumbles against your lips.

“How can it be teasing when you’re currently inside me?”

He lets out a sound that’s almost a whine, his hands still gripping your thighs.

“Because you’re making me want even more, darling,” he murmurs, “you don’t even know what you’re doing to me right now. Keep going, please."

He moans again, and it’s almost desperate.

“Kiss me again, darling, please," He half-pleads, "please, I need more, more, I need you to kiss me."

You don’t hesitate, gripping his hair to pull him down, his lips crashing down against yours.

He moans deep and desperate, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, kissing you deeply and hungrily. His hands are still gripping your thighs, so tight that it’s leaving bruises on you.

You don’t care about the bruises. There’s something about kissing him that’s making the already great sex even more intense, to the point you’re practically whimpering underneath him. He does a kind of turn and you break the kiss to scream.

He groans, his eyes almost shut. “Goddamn, that’s good, darling, that’s perfect. Say my name like that again."

“Alastor, please, I’m not sure how much more I can take…”

“Well, you will,” he snaps. “You’re mine, darling, and you’re going to take what I give to you, what I do to you, because you belong to me, and I can do whatever I want with you. I want to hear my name from your pretty lips, and I want to hear my name moaned by your perfect voice."

He reaches between you, blunting a fingertip to rub at your clit. Miraculously, it’s not over-sensitised anymore, but it does speed things along—it also makes you vocal.

Very vocal.

Every filthy word you’ve ever even thought comes flying out from your lips.

He laughs, and the laughter is dark and eager.

“Fuck.” Alastor’s eyes half-close, "I love hearing those pretty noises from you, darling. I love hearing those sweet, beautiful sounds you make for me, I love knowing that I’m the one that makes you make them, I love knowing that I’m the one that makes you moan. Say my name again, say it again, and I’ll make you come harder than you ever have.”

You whimper softly. “Alastor, please, I can’t hold on, I can’t.”

He laughs, and his eyes slowly open, looking right into yours.

“Say it again. Say my name again, I need to hear you say my name again, I need to hear you moan it, I need to hear you whimper it, I need to hear it, I need that perfect voice to moan my name one more damn time."

Your body starts to shake and it’s damn near impossible to keep your eyes on his, but you definitely don’t want to deal with the consequences of your eyes closing again. Every little flick of his finger sends sparks through your whole body.

“Fuck, Alastor, goddamn it, please.”

He moans, and his eyes slide almost closed at those words.

“There we go, that’s a good darling, I want you to scream my name. I want you to scream and moan my name, I want to hear you, I want to know that you’re mine, I want you to say that you’re mine, I want to know that you know that you belong to me—“

“Alastor!” You begin to shout his name, over and over again.

He chuckles darkly, and you can feel the vibrations of it, feel it rumble through his chest.

“There we go, that’s exactly what I wanted, exactly what I wanted. You’re being so good, darling, so good, don’t stop now. Say it again, don’t stop saying it. Don’t stop saying my name, say it again for me, do it again and I’ll make you come, I’ll make you come so hard that you forget your own damn name, darling, say my name again and I promise that I’ll make you come so hard that you forget everything but my name, say it again, say my name again, don’t stop, never stop saying my name, say it, say it, say it say it please say just say my name, say my name, say, my fucking name!”

His fingers flick against your clit even faster, his cock presses against your g-spot ruthlessly.

You shout his name like a reverent mantra, fuelled by the heat in your belly.

“Good girl,” he says in a hoarse voice. His pace quickens and you can tell he’s just as close as you as you are. “Good girl, so good.”

Your thighs squeeze around his hips when you finally, finally come, pussy fluttering around his cock as he pounds you hard. Alastor kisses you, hard, as he chases after you. His hips soon still and his head drops down to your chest, breathing heavily.

You stroke his hair for a few moments, until your thighs stop trembling.

You hadn’t considered what would happen afterward. Well, you hadn’t actually considered any of this when you came to his room at all. What a bizarre turn of events. You don’t even know what time it is, how long that went on.

One thing you do know, or have at least gathered from various forms of media in hell, is that men want you to leave. When Alastor carefully gets onto his side, you silently slip out of bed—

Or you try to, anyway.

“What in the world do you think you’re doing?” Alastor asks, a hint of anger and smidge of threat in his voice.

“I was, uh, just find my clothes,” you say.

“Those won’t be necessary,” he says sharply, jerking you back and pulling you flush against his body.

A few tense moments pass before he speaks again, clearly quite pissed.

“Why would you try to leave me?” he asks. “Didn’t I say you’re mine? Didn’t you say you’re mine? Didn’t you agree you belong to me? Didn’t you repeat it again and again? You had plenty of opportunities to deny me, darling. Didn’t I tell you that you are my mate? How dare you?”

“I didn’t—I don’t—I didn’t think—“

“That’s right, you didn’t think,” he says sharply, wrapping his arms securely around you. “I made it very clear that you are mine. Why did you try to leave?”

“To be honest, I thought that was meaningless sex talk!”

Alastor huffs. “Well, it wasn’t. You’re mine. You’re never to leave me again, am I understood?”

“But Alastor—“

“You will not deny me!”

“Okay, okay,” you say, your cheeks rather warm. “Okay, I’m yours. I won’t leave.”

“You will not even leave this room until after this goddamned rut finally goes away, and even then you’re on a short leash.”

“Eventually I’ll get hungry!”

Now he looks very pissed. “Do you believe I can’t or won’t provide for you?”

Your eyebrows leap. “Alastor, really, I’m not trying to offend you. I just don’t know what to do. Help me out here.”

“Here’s what you’re going to do,” he snaps. “You’re going to stay here, with me, not with Charlie’s nonsense and not playing video games. You will be attentive to me and I will be the one providing you with meals and anything else that you and the fawns need.”

“Fawns?”

He tsks and makes a dismissive gesture. “Don’t worry about that.”

“I feel like I should worry about that,” you say.

Alastor squeezes you in his arms, his eyes closing. “Shut up.”

You can’t help but smile to yourself as he nuzzles against you, probably scenting, you realise. Thank God you were up late enough to hear everything in his room explode, to hear the pained moans of a man settling into a rut. Thank God for Cum Sluts vs Zombies.

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

Let our lips lock, baby - K.MG

💋Who; Kim Mingyu (Seventeen) x female reader 💋What; Friends to lovers smut. Fluff. They are in LOVE okay. Birthday boy Gyu <3 💋Wordcount; 9.8k 💋Warnings; Profanity. Pet names from them both(baby/sweetheart). A single solitary thigh spank. Oral(female receiving). Gyu gets a little posessive over reader for a second but it's more amusing than anything. I don't think there's actually anything specific that needs to be mentioned? But do let me know. They're on very equal grounds throughout this entire story and I love that for them <3

Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.

Summary; The intention is to sneak into Mingyu's apartment(get let in by Wonwoo) and set up banners and balloons ready for when he wakes. And then you'll cook him a meal like he's been asking for and give him his birthday gift. You don't really have a plan for what happens after that, you assume you'll just hang out, you really don't expect a confession and to wind up in his bed.

Ao3 Link -2024 Masterlist-

A/N- The biggest juiciest thank you ever goes to @sluttywoozi for being so supportive as I wrote this! If it wasn't for you, sweetheart, this would just be soft hours, not sorny hours 💖💖💖 And just the svthub members in general for being actual sweethearts like wtf pls save some sweet for the rest of the world okay <3

ps. scroll to the very bottom to see a very serious birthday edit I made of Mingyu instead of writing this :))

🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈

Honestly, it's a little worrying just how easy it is to sneak around the apartment without detection. You had known that Mingyu is a heavy sleeper for quite a while now but it still concerns you that you literally managed to enter his room, tidy the little mess and set up decorations all while he slept obliviously in his bed with his mouth wide open in a sign of good sleep. Still, it makes everything all that much easier.

"Ohmygod, hyung!" The thrilled gasp edged with a just-awake roughness, alerts you to the fact that Mingyu has finally woken and spotted the decorations in his room. A few seconds later, he is stumbling through the apartment in search of his flatmate but instead finds you in the kitchen. "Oh, you're not hyung." He mutters dumbly, eyes wide. Yours are too but mostly because he is in rather skimpy little boxers and nothing else.

"I'm not," You confirm, staring without blinking at the extensive beautiful skin exposed to your eyes. Not that you have never seen Mingyu topless before, or even in shorts, but this is something else entirely that you have only dreamed of until now.

And then Mingyu realises what he is wearing, or more specifically what he isn't wearing and squeaks before rushing off with an embarrassed blush burning up his neck and cheeks.

When Mingyu returns ten minutes later, he is freshly showered and fully dressed, much to your disappointment. But at least he isn't just in sweatpants and a hoodie like you had expected; he's pulled on his nice jeans and a crisp plain black t-shirt that clings to his torso and is perhaps more devastating than seeing him bare. At least when he was bare it was less like being teased with something just out of sight. Either way, he is out of reach in every way.

The outfit choice makes you tilt your head a little in puzzlement. "You put on your date outfit." You comment, knowing that the jeans and t-shirt combo is a very common choice for Mingyu when he's going on a casual date with someone.

"You look nice, I thought I should too," Is his simple response as he shrugs and walks over to put his arms around your waist from behind and finally greet you as you usually greet one another; with a hug that is perhaps a little too lingering for the nothing-more-than-friends status you both claim to have. Which is true, nothing has ever happened between you two that passes platonic; it's just the fact that you want it to and if your mutual friends can be trusted, so does Mingyu.

"You said you like this dress," You inform, turning back to the food that you are working on. "And regularly complain that I never make an effort when I hang out with you. Seeing as it's a special occasion, I figured I should grant your wish, birthday boy." You tease and feel him grin happily against your neck where he is still tucked down into like he favours. It always amazes you how such a giant man will shrink down for extended periods just to give affection to those he cares about. "Go sit at the table, this'll be ready soon. Your breakfast, my lunch." You muse, pointing out that it is already almost 1 pm, but you had honestly expected as much. Mingyu is notorious amongst your friends for sleeping into the afternoon on days when he doesn't have to get up. And he always takes his birthday off to allow that luxury.

"Ah, you finally agreed to cook for me." He coos and squeezes you happily before letting his arms unwind, hands sliding over your waist in a way that has you suppressing a shiver. Either he doesn't notice your little shaky inhale or simply chooses to ignore it as he relocates over to the dining table.

"I asked what you wanted for your birthday, you said you wanted me to cook for you." You remind, glancing over as he gasps and picks up the little ribbon-wrapped box on the tabletop while he sits down.

"Is this for me too?" He looks over at you with big eyes full of innocent excitement. He's so fucking cute that it is honestly a giant problem for your ability to keep a level heartbeat.

"Mm, of course, do you see another Mingyu here?" You raise an eyebrow, and then he notices the tag with his name on and giggles embarassedly. "Happy birthday, Gyu."

"Thank you," He breathes out, looking at you fondly for a few long seconds and then turns down to the box. "Can I open it now?"

"Whenever you want, it's yours." You confirm, turning off the heat to dish up the food onto two plates.

"Ah, after food." He decides, putting down the box to jump up with every intention of helping you; though you tut disapprovingly causing him to lower back to his seat like a scolded puppy.

"It's your birthday, let me dote on you."

"You dote on me anyway." He pouts slightly as you carry the plates over to put on the already cutely laid table, down to a little vase with fresh flowers in it. Mingyu has obviously noticed them and knows they're from you, Wonwoo wouldn't buy flowers for their apartment after all, but Mingyu does not have the mental capacity to point them out. It's too much for his poor smitten heart to handle after waking up to birthday balloons and banners, and then seeing you looking so beautiful cooking in his kitchen domestically. If he's forced to voice anything in regard to the appearance of his favourite flowers, he is pretty sure he'll do something stupid like confess his undying love for you and ask you to never leave.

"Yes, and you do it too, but today is about you, birthday boy." You retort and make a move to sit down. Mingyu is on his feet before your ass even touches the chair, just so that he can tuck you in like he always does. You let him have this one and just roll your eyes at his inability to not take care of you, even on a day entirely about him.

Soon Mingyu is making happy sounds in his seat on your adjacent left as he thoroughly enjoys every mouthful of food. As much as Mingyu is a foodie and savours his food in general, he still tends to practically inhale whatever is in front of him when he hasn't eaten in a while, but he is genuinely taking his time to absorb every flavour and texture of this meal. It makes your heart flutter to see the genuine appreciation he has for what you cooked for him.

It occurs to you as you take a photo of him enjoying his food to send to the group chat, that the scene very much looks like a date. Your friends all know what Mingyu tends to wear for dates and if they know your own outfit of the day- which Wonwoo at least does- then they will also know that it's one of your own date looks. You stare at your screen for a second then lock the device as you decide against sending them anything despite having agreed to send update pictures. You had already sent photos of the decorations in Mingyu's room though so that will be enough, right? You know that it most certainly is not enough where your nosey friends are concerned. Still, ignorance is bliss.

For the first time perhaps ever, you finish eating before Mingyu so just sit back and watch him contently. He knows that you're watching him and keeps grinning closed-lipped at you, not at all bothered by your attention. He isn't a hypocrite, he has watched you eat his own cooking in such a way many times before and will continue to do so. Mingyu knows exactly how wonderful it feels to witness anybody enjoying your own cooking, especially those you care about. And Mingyu knows that you care about him an awful lot, he is just kind of in denial that the care had long ago stretched way past platonic territory.

As soon as Mingyu puts his cutlery down on his empty plate, you jump up to take the dishes away making him whine. "I was about to do that!" He complains, pouting at you, his left hand wrapped around his glass of water that he barely managed to touch before you dart away with the dirty dishes and distract him from his drink.

"No, you weren't, birthday boy." You sing-song, rinsing off the dishes already to put in the dishwasher ready for later in the day when it will be full enough to warrant being turned on.

"Are you really going to do everything for me today?"

"Yep, whatever you want, I'm at your disposal, Gyu."

"Whatever I want?" He mumbles, more to himself than you, which is good because you don't hear his voice over the gentle clatter of dishes being placed into the dishwasher. All he can think about is getting the one thing he has wanted almost since the very day he first laid his eyes on you. Your lips. Your hands. Your body. You in your entirety. You by his side always so that he doesn't have to face the ache of watching you walk away ever again. But he can't ask for that, not even on his birthday.

After washing your hands, you return to your place at the table and lean onto your elbows on the tabletop. You don't notice the way the position accentuates your cleavage but Mingyu certainly does. It takes everything in him to not look down at your chest. "Are you going to open your gift now?" You prompt, nodding towards the little box.

"Oh, yeah!" He perks up and reaches out for it. "Though you really didn't have to get me anything, you already cooked for me and that's the best gift I've ever received."

"Don't be ridiculous, Gyu, it was just a meal. Not even a particularly exciting one either, you regularly cook much more extravagant meals for me." You pout a little, feeling guilty about the meal you made for him. You had spent weeks trying to come up with something special to cook for him; you had even made a secret groupchat with some of your friend group who you thought would be helpful and not just ignore the chat, to send recipes and ask opinions. It had actually been Seokmin in the end who had not quite snapped but got fed up with your consistent worries over the planned meal and told you that Mingyu wouldn't give a single fuck what you cooked, he just cared that you cooked it. Seeing Seokmin speak up like that made you finally listen to the reason the entire chat had been trying to talk into you, so you stopped looking for something fancy and just cooked something you are confident in already.

"It's not about that," Mingyu speaks, looking at you earnestly. "It's about the act itself; cooking something for me no matter what it is, shows you care. That's what I care about, not the meal itself. Though it was delicious and I really hope you cook it for me again." His smile turns cheeky by the end making you let out a soft laugh.

"Mm, just say when." You agree, smiling when his whole face lights up. You playfully scrunch your nose at him. He returns it without hesitation.

A moment passes between you, not a new moment but one you have both felt many times; a moment with something meaningful floating in the air between you. But as per usual, neither of you are brave enough to reach out and capture it.

At the same time, you both look down at the box still in his hands to redirect your attention to something that doesn't feel quite so big in your chests. Carefully, Mingyu pulls on the ribbon to untie the bow that you had spent a good half an hour trying to perfect that morning so that he can then pluck the lid free. After moving aside the tissue paper Mingyu's eyes land on the jewellery within. His expression melts along with his posture. With a cautious hand, he reaches out to touch one of the silver chains.

"I hope they're what you wanted; you were very vague when you said matching bracelets. I don't know who you intend to wear them with, but I hope you both like them. And that the design isn't entirely opposite to your intention." You worry a little at the end, your own gaze settling on the little double hearts on each somewhat dainty chain. Jeonghan had given you a look as if you were crazy when you had shown them to him last week; he insisted that Mingyu would break the chain within the first day of wearing it. But you know they are much more resilient than they look after extensive testing on them both. You are confident that even Mingyu's accident-prone self won't destroy the chains, yet even if he does, you'll just buy him more. Any many as he wants. So long as he's happy, you'll buy him anything his heart desires. "I just know you like love heart designs and everything else didn't really suit you in my mind."

"They're beautiful." He breathes out then scoots closer to you and holds his left arm out over the table top. "Put it on me, please?"

"Sure," You agree even if you're confused about why he isn't waiting until he gives the matching one to whoever his intended recipient is. Still, you pluck one of the bracelets from its secure seat in the box to wind it around his wrist and clasp it in place. Your fingers trace over the chain and his skin for a second before you start to pull back. But Mingyu quickly, though gently, grasps your right hand to tug it closer to him. "Gyu," You murmur with widened eyes when he pulls the remaining chain from the box. "Gyu, I didn't buy it with this intention." You explain rapidly, worried that he thinks that you expect him to give the other to you purely because you had purchased the matching pair.

"I asked for it with this intention." He admits eyes focused on the chain he ties around your wrist. "Why do you think I asked you to get me matching bracelets if not to share with you?"

"I don't know. I've bought you stuff to match with the guys before."

"Mm, true," He agrees and looks up at you though his fingers remain on your wrist tenderly. "But I wanted these for us; something I can wear every day and have a reminder of you, so I can look down and feel better because I'll be thinking of you."

"Gyu…" You breathe out. His words hold a lot more weight than anything the pair of you dare to utter to one another; like he has finally reached out and caught onto that thing between you and now he is offering you the chance to reach back out. But you don't know what to say, how to reach out without risking the weight of his words not being what you hope.

He stares at you for a moment, lip between his teeth as he chews on it a little with nerves filling his chest. He's already said it, there isn't any going back now. So he decides that if he can't go back, he should keep going forward and take that leap that he truly hopes with everything in him will end in your open arms. "You said whatever I want, right?" He recalls. It takes you a second to understand what exactly he means but then you nod. "Well, I have something that I've wanted for a really long time, something only you can give me. But I don't want you to give it to me just because I asked and it's my birthday. Okay?"

"Uh, okay?" You reply, confused yet very hopeful that whatever his request is, it will be enough that if you reach out, your hand will find his own doing the same. "What is it?"

"Will you kiss me?" Your eyebrows lift in surprise as your heart races in your chest. "And not…not just because kissing is nice and you haven't kissed anyone in a while so you're happy to kiss for that reason." You don't even care that he has bluntly mentioned your lack of any kind of action in the past months. "But because you want to kiss me and not because I'm one of your closest friends or just for a sexual thing but because you like me and want me the way that I want you."

Your voice is barely a whisper when you respond. "And how do you want me?"

"By my side from now until forever as mine, and me as yours entirely."

"Really?" Your voice is choked and there are tears in your eyes from his sincere words.

Mingyu's own eyes look as if they are gathering tears too. Though his aren't wet just because of the rapidly growing cloud of something between you with his hands deep inside as he tries to direct it to your own touch. He's fucking petrified that he is ruining everything between you yet he hadn't been able to stop talking and let his truth flow free. He will never forgive himself if his honesty pushes you away; he'd rather have you as nothing more than a friend than not at all, so long as you're still such a big part of his life.

"Yeah, I-I'm kind of really in love with you," He admits with a weak chuckle. He tries to lighten the mood with a smile but it's much too shaky to do the job.

Luckily though, you don't notice, you're already darting forward to lean over the table and kiss him utterly overwhelmed by his confession and the swell of your heart to have the mentality to voice anything in response. You hope your lips against his will suffice until you have your full faculties back.

For a handful of seconds, Mingyu remains frozen solid in his seat, eyes wide on your own closed ones closer to his face than you have ever been before. He had hoped you'd react positively, but he hadn't dared to expect it. The hope itself had seemed like a dream. So it takes him a few seconds to fully register that you have just fucking kissed him despite all he said. You two have such a solid mutual respect for one another that he knows that you will never play with his emotions in any way. It's that mental reminder that has him jerking back to reality. His hands fly up to cup your face as his eyes close and he finally kisses you back with a soft groan.

Considering that the kiss had been rather one-sided for its start, it isn't a sweet kiss by any means. It's passionate from the first second that his lips press back against yours; both of you are full of so much emotion for one another for so long that it's being released all at once.

You hadn't intended to get carried away in the way Mingyu's tongue caresses your own or how he regularly lets out little low sounds from the back of his throat to show how pleased he is by the way that your mouths move with this same pure need for one another, but you do.

Only when you find yourself on his lap, table edge pressing into your lower back and his erection grinding up between your spread legs, do you actually recall that you hadn't meant to do more than just kiss the man until you gain your mental clarity back. Not that you do gain your mental clarity back but you've both pulled apart to desperately refill your lungs even without stopping your hips moving against each other.

"Gyu," You manage, holding his face firmly and looking into his heavy gaze. He licks his lips but doesn't respond verbally. He's at least staring at you intently enough that you know he will hear you even over the lust thick in his veins. "I'm in love with you too."

All at once, Mingyu falls still and blinks at you in dumb surprise. He hadn't expected you to say as much; even if you do feel the same way, he thought your return confession would come later. You know, after he's fucked you until you can't walk without thinking of his cock every single step. "You are?" He asks, not because he thinks you'd lie, but just because his blood is not circulating around his brain enough for him to have the ability to decipher if it's just a horny hallucination fuelled by his own love for you.

"Yeah, have been for a while."

"Oh." Another few empty blinks at you before he beams and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. "I love you so so so so so much, sweetheart. You'll be mine, right?" He leans back to look at you with big eyes full of love and a hint of pleading.

"Yeah, yeah, of course." You agree, beaming right back at him with your arms around his neck. "For as long as you want me."

"How does forever sound?" Mingyu offers with a cheeky smile.

You take a moment to just admire him, admire the man who owns your entire heart and soul. "I'm not sure it's long enough." You will happily dedicate an eternity to loving Kim Mingyu but even then, you aren't sure that it's long enough in comparison to the devotion he deserves.

"But it's a start."

"It's a start." You agree with a single nod. He smiles adoringly at you then lifts one hand from around you to cup your cheek tenderly and leads you into a kiss. This one isn't like the other, there's no lust in this, even if it still burns in your very blood and clearly in his too based on the bulge still pressing against you. All the kiss contains is pure unfiltered love, and you hope to have many more like it in your future together. And you're positive that it is going to be a long and happy future.

The longer the kiss goes on, the more the lust trickles back in. Soon enough, you're grinding against each other looking for friction and to feel one another closer.

"Baby," Mingyu pants out, gripping your hips tight to force you to a stop. You pout at him confused and rather offended. "There's something else I want. For my birthday."

"If it's to fuck me, you have my very enthusiastic consent." You reply immediately and try to move back in to reunite your lips but he holds you still making you whine. "Gyu,"

"No, it's not. Well, I mean I do want to fuck you, a lot but that's not what's on my mind right now." You pointedly look down at the borderline obscene bulge in his jeans then back up at him. He giggles a little, kind of shy and very out of place but so fucking cute that you can't help but smile in return.

"Okay, what do you want, birthday boy?" You coo, brushing your fingers through his hair.

"To eat you out." You raise an eyebrow at him. You thought he'd ask for a blow job if anything, not for him to go down on you. Not that you're against that at all. "Can I?"

"Mm, sure, baby, whatever you want." You agree. He grins then abruptly hoists you up onto the table making you yelp in alarm at being manhandled out of the blue. Once again, not that you're against that at all.

"I've wanted to get my mouth on you for so long," He admits breathlessly as he watches his hands smooth up your spread thighs in front of him. "Thought about how you'd taste, dreamed about it." He slowly pushes the skirt of your dress up and up and up until it's bunched at the crease between your thighs and hips.

You watch him stare at the seat of your panties for a moment, his fingers pressing into your thighs and mouth open. "For someone who's wanted this for so long, you're taking your time getting to it, baby." You tease, tapping his chin causing him to snap his mouth shut embarrassedly while flicking his eyes up to you.

"Shut up, I'm overwhelmed," He mumbles, tilting his head towards your hand so that you cup his cheek. Your thumb brushes over his lips so he presses a kiss to it without thought.

"Overwhelmed in a good way?"

"The best way," Mingyu confirms, nodding in your hold. "I just found out that you love me and now I get to touch and taste you. It's a lot, I'm not sure I've even absorbed that you love me yet."

"Will it help if I say it again?" You tease, leaning down towards his face. He straightens as you lower as if drawn to you without him even needing to consciously move his body. You have only just come together but already, it's so natural to you both.

"Only one way to find out."

Instead of saying the words, you press your lips to his. You kiss him softly, slowly in a way that makes his breath hitch and his fingers tremble a little against your skin. With just a hint of sweetness. "I love you, Mingyu, more than I can put into words."

"I can't either." He agrees and brushes his nose against yours softly before pressing a flutter of a kiss to your cheek, and then another a little lower. "I'm not good with words," Another kiss below the last. "I never have been," He continues to speak in between creating a trail of his lips over your jaw and down onto your neck, trying his utmost to carve a path of his love into your skin in hopes of it reaching your very centre and finding a home there. "And I'll spend my whole fucking life trying to find them for you." His lips are at your collarbones by now with little flashes of his tongue to taste every inch of you he can. It sends your stomach both fluttering and burning. "But for now, let me try and show you instead." He pulls his mouth from you to stand up and hover over you with both of his hands finding your face to direct your gaze up into his own.

You nod a little in agreement. "Show me, Gyu." You encourage on a whisper before his lips are back on yours, tongue sliding into your mouth as he encourages you to lay back against the tabletop without once breaking the kiss.

And then in true Mingyu fashion, once you are flat against the wood and he reaches up to prop himself up over you, he knocks over the vase of flowers.

He shrieks and flails to try and catch them but the vase topples over, spilling water out over the wood and thanks to his failed correction, in your direction. You just stare dumbly at him. It all happened so fast. One second you're making out with your boyfriend and the next, you're soaked and not in the ideal area. Luckily, it actually isn't an awful lot of water but having it over half of your face and chest really is not enjoyable in any way.

"Ohmygod, I am so sorry, baby," Mingyu rushes out when he looks at you instead of the mess of stems and petals over the table amongst the water. "I didn't mean to get you wet!" You raise an eyebrow with a suggestive grin. Instantly, his worry goes and he laughs. "This is the wrong kind of wet." He muses and plonks the vase down so that he can wrap his arms around you and pull you upright against his chest. "Will you be upset if I ignore the flowers you bought me to take you to bed and make you wet in the other way?" He wiggles his eyebrows.

"I think I'd be more upset if you focused on the flowers."

"Good." Mingyu lowers just enough to get your thighs up around his waist and his hands under them securely before lifting. "Always wanted to pick you up." He admits off-handedly as he traipses through the apartment.

"Why?"

"Because…you let Seungcheol do it that time but no one else." He pouts and you giggle, absently playing with the hair at his nape where your fingers lay comfortably. "Don't laugh at me." He whines. The slap of his palm against the underside of your thigh isn't hard and doesn't hurt at all but the point gets through. Even if it is entirely contradictory behaviour to his sulking.

"Yes sir," You reply, a tease but your voice is serious. The only sign of the playful response is in the way your eyes sparkle on him. He gives you an unimpressed look but quickly breaks and smiles. Though seconds later, the smile turns into a smirk and he tosses you onto his bed.

"You look good in my bed." He grins, eyes darkening as they roam you from where he stands at the side of the bed with his hands on his hips.

"Look better with you on top of me, come on." You settle with your head on the soft pillows and spread your legs invitingly while pulling your skirt up higher. Mingyu is between your thighs in seconds, chest flat to the mattress and face alarmingly close for the speed at which he moves. For a second, you really think that he's going to collide with you; although you have wanted Mingyu's mouth on for a long time, that would certainly not be how you fantasised. "Ohmygod, I thought you were going to faceplant my vagina for a second." You admit in a relieved exhale. He snorts a laugh then shuffles a little closer so that he can press a kiss at the crease of your inner right thigh over the edge of your panties.

There aren't any further words exchanged between you, just a moment of heated eye contact before Mingyu adjusts his position and pulls the seat of your panties to expose you to him. He takes a few seconds to burn this image of you all slick and bare for him in his mind; something for him to look back on when he misses you.

Because he knows he will. He missed you before he even had you and now? Good luck ever going a day without him whining for you in some way.

You let him look even if it makes you blush and squirm a little, half shy, half aroused at the intensity of his burning gaze locked between your spread thighs. He isn't even holding your legs open, just resting his left hand on your inner thigh without any pressure while his right keeps your panties aside. If he was anyone else, your thighs would've closed already but this is Mingyu, the man you hope to spend a lifetime with, so you figure you shouldn't be shy with him. He'll see it all eventually anyway.

Just before you can change your mind and try to encourage him either verbally or by reaching out and pulling him in, he leans down and licks a broad stripe over you, pulling your wetness onto his tongue and making you inhale sharply at the sudden wet touch. He groans deeply and his eyes almost roll back as he sucks the flavour off of you from his own tongue to swallow down. And then he's back, diving right down with his left hand moving to use his thumb to hold you open and give him easier access to lap at the arousal trickling from your hole.

He doesn't really give you any chance to think, just grip the sheets below you with your mouth open and eyes shut while he devours you with more enthusiasm than you could've ever expected. If you didn't think it before, you certainly do now; Kim Mingyu is the personification of your wettest dreams. The way his tongue travels over your folds hungrily, lips joining to suck and kiss wherever his heart desires, is so fucking sinful in the best of ways. You think he may very well suck your soul out of your clit at this rate and you'll thank him for it.

"Gyu," You finally manage to make a sound beside the whimpers and moans he skillfully pulls from your throat in a way nobody could, not even yourself and you truly thought you knew your body through and through by this point. But boy were you wrong. And for the first time, you're very fucking happy to be proven incorrect.

And apparently, calling his name out of the blue is not a smart move because he immediately leans up to look at you with wide eyes of concern. "Yeah, baby? You okay?"

"Don't fucking stop!" You wail in complaint, reaching out to knot your fingers into his hair and force him back down. Though he's more than willing to get his mouth back on your dripping pussy and lowers easily under your hands with a pleased groan. "Don't stop," You repeat on an exhale, watching him devour you as if it's his sole reason for existing. You wish you could watch him for longer but your neck quickly starts to hurt from the awkward angle so you flop back down and let your eyes close again.

Mingyu glances up at you for a second then also closes his own eyes with a self-satisfied smirk. He has imagined this so many times before; how you'd taste on his tongue, how you'd feel against his lips, but nothing he imagined can hold a candle to the haven he's discovered between your thighs. He knows he could happily spend all day with his head between your thighs and his tongue buried in your pussy. He wonders if you'd let him. Not right now, he thinks that would be too much for your first day together but in the future. Tomorrow? Yeah, he'll ask to do it tomorrow, you can both call in sick to work as far as he's concerned.

Honestly, Mingyu is too lost in his own actions to register the way your legs are pulling in either side of his head and your moans changing in pitch and frequency. He only notices when suddenly he has a thigh pressed to either side of his head and you're pressing down against him with a call of his name. His eyes fly open to watch you arch off of the bed as your orgasm shocks through your body. He doesn't mean to groan lowly where his lips are wrapped around your clit but he does and the vibration is too much when you're barely through your climax so you scramble to push his head away. "Sorry, sorry," He pants out, crawling up the bed to hover over you while you slump down, eyes closed and chest heaving. He lowers onto his elbows on either side of you to kiss your neck softly while he waits for you to catch your breath back. He isn't expecting anything more than this and would be happy if you wanted to just leave it here for today, but he's sure as shit hoping you'll let him put his cock in you even for a moment. At this point, he's sure it won't take more than just a moment or two for him to cum anyway, his dick is throbbing in his boxers, pressing against his jeans in a way that he's only now realising is actually a little painful.

The second your breath is back, you tug him up to lock your lips together. His are a little damp and sticky still but you find you don't mind tasting yourself when it's on Mingyu's tongue.

You don't wait long at all before reaching down for the hem of his t-shirt to pull it up. He leans back to give you a questioning look, more to make sure you're certain than anything else. You continue to pull it up so he maneuvers to allow you to remove it from his body.

"You're insane, you know?" You murmur out awed as you take in his defined torso. For the first time, you can touch him to your heart's content so you run your palms over his newly exposed skin, memorising the warmth, the dips and ridges of him.

"What?" He laughs confusedly, looking between your bodies and taking in how your hands look against him, how your skin tone compliments his own perfectly. Like you were made to complement each other. For each other. As he looks up at you and observes the reverence on your beautiful features, he thinks perhaps you were. It's that thought that has him lowering back to your lips again before you can even answer his question. He has the sudden urge to love you in every way he possibly can; not that he never does, but right now it's less of the usual consistent buzz and more like a heated thrumming right under the surface of his skin.

You let out a little surprised 'mmh' against his lips yet don't hesitate to kiss him back. Your hands first lift to hold his face but then they move back down, over his pecs and abs all the way to the waistband of his jeans where you tuck your fingers underneath in a silent request. He groans a little and presses against your hand in wordless consent so you quickly open the button and pull down the zipper so that you can snake a hand underneath and palm at him over his boxers.

Mingyu immediately pulls out of the kiss with a hiss and a low curse. "Baby, I'll cum if you touch me." He warns, locking pleading eyes on you. You can't quite tell what he's pleading for though. Not when his words say one thing and his hips rolling against your palm tells you another.

"Isn't that kind of the point?" You muse, lifting a teasing eyebrow.

"I don't want to," He pouts. Without hesitation, you pull your hands away and hold them to yourself. "No, I didn't mean to stop." He whines.

"What the fuck, Mingyu?" You complain, pinching his nipple making him yelp and squirm away a little but only for a second as he returns right back. Always drawn to you and unable to hide it anymore, he doesn't want to hide it anymore. Wants the world to know if at all possible.

"I mean I don't want to cum like that." He explains, soothing your displeasure with a few sweet kisses to your forehead and temple. "I really want to be inside you."

"Oh," Your expression swiftly shifts into understanding and then delight. "I really want you inside me too, Gyu."

"Yeah?" It's kind of comical the way his eyes light up in pure excitement. More like he has been offered his favourite food, not to fuck you. Well, considering the enthusiasm with which he ate you out earlier though, you may very well be his new favourite thing to eat.

"Yeah, so get naked." You confirm with a giggle that only grows when he scrambles off of the bed to shed his clothes. He stumbles multiple times in his haste and honestly, you're too fucking endeared and in love with this giant clumsy idiot to do anything but sit and watch him with a stupid grin on your face.

He only notices that you have not done anything but sit upright when he turns to climb back on the bed entirely naked and spots you watching him. "You're not naked." He comments, a fresh pout pursing his lips.

"I got distracted watching the man I'm in love with," You explain smoothly. Mingyu's cheek flushes as he smiles at your words, his heart swelling with his own love in his chest. He's not sure he'll ever get used to hearing you admit to your love for him. He doesn't think he wants to get used to it.

He climbs up onto the bed further and reaches out to the hem of your skirt. You get up onto your knees in front of him and lift your arms. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before removing the dress from your body to toss it to the floor carelessly. Later he will worry about the creases in it from being on the floor, but right now he can't think about anything but you.

"You're so beautiful." He exhales heavily as he roams his gaze over your bra and panty-clad body. You're glad you wore one of your nice matching sets today, you think he deserves to see your nice lingerie for your first time together at least.

"So're you." You reach around your back to unlatch your bra. Mingyu's eyes widen in interest for a second then he moves in and pulls the straps from your shoulders so that he can also discard that piece of clothing, leaving you in your damp, slightly stretched-out panties. "How do you want me?" You ask as you hook your thumbs in the waistband, but Mingyu bats your hands away gently so that he can have the honour of stripping you naked.

"On your back." He murmurs as he works the material down your thighs.

"Don't want me to ride you?" You offer, his eyes snap up to you and he goes very quiet and still for a few seconds as the mental image of you bouncing on his cock assaults his mind. And then he's shaking it away with a physical shake of his head and nudging you down to your earlier position so that he can remove the last item keeping you from being as bare as him.

"Not right now, I'll cum too fast." He admits, settling between your thighs on his knees and just looking at you with his hands on your inner thighs just above your knees. "Might cum too fast anyway." He confesses in a mumble making you choke out a laugh at his abrupt confession. "Will you break up with me if I cum as soon as I feel your pussy on my cock?" He asks, looking genuinely worried at the thought and like he seriously wants an answer.

So you take a breath so that you don't laugh again and shake your head a little. "No, Gyu, I won't break up with you if that happens."

"Promise?"

"I promise." You assure, squeezing his hands a little. His left moves up to grab yours in return and lace your fingers together on your thigh.

"Okay," He relaxes as he accepts your words as truth then looks down to focus on his right hand as it moves from your thigh and to between your legs. "I should've stretched you earlier when I had my mouth on you." He realises, prodding at your entrance with his lips slightly protruding in concentration and a little regret at his lack of forethought destroying his plans of sliding into your pussy any second.

"Do you want me to do it?" You offer. Two of his fingers slide into you in answer making your breath catch but then you laugh a little at his reaction.

"No, nobody touches this pussy except me." He argues firmly, already working to move his fingers within you, in and out while scissoring them with his only goal to stretch you enough to comfortably fit his thick cock inside.

"I-I can't even t-touch my own body now?" You ask, amused but his fingers in you feel too good for you to actually put any emotion into your voice. You vaguely hope he doesn't take it the wrong way and does understand that you're trying to joke with him, but mostly you don't care how he takes it so long as he keeps stretching you out in that way. It's a rushed job, you know that, you can tell that he obviously only wants one thing right now and this isn't for giving you any pleasure, but it still is. Maybe it's the way he's being a little rough about it without actually being rough, he's giving you the chance to adjust to his fingers but he's already adding a third and jabbing them into you sooner than you would yourself.

"Not like this," Mingyu answers, eyes still on his task between your thighs, though now he's seeing the way you're leaking even more and he's sort of clicking back into the fact that he should consciously be making this good for you. Though the slick sounds mixed with your laboured breathing and intermittent soft moans tell him that he doesn't really need to try to make this good for you. But next time, next time he'll make you cum until the sheets are soaked down to the mattress before he puts his cock in you. "Are you on birth control?" The question feels entirely out of the blue so you can't be blamed for not answering and just blinking at him for a second. He slows his hand to a stop and lifts his head when you don't answer. "I really want to cum in you." He explains.

"Oh, uh, no. I kept forgetting to take it." You answer and feel genuinely bad when his expression falls. He looks kind of heartbroken. "I plan to get something else soon though, so in the future you can."

"Okay," He smiles agreeably then removes his fingers from you to reach over to his bedside table, open it and rummage inside to find a condom.

"You'd have more luck if you let go of my hand." You muse watching him struggle to open the foil packet with one hand, the corner of it carefully held between his front teeth.

"No," He refuses around closed teeth. There's a victorious sound from him when the foil rips open. He spits out the ripped piece of the packet to the side and you watch the corner flutter away knowing he will be annoyed at himself for littering his floor later. "Uhm," His lost mutter draws your attention back to him. He's kneeling there, the tip of the condom pinched between his fingers as he stares between it and his erection. Clearly, he did not think this through.

You huff a soft almost silent laugh before you sit up and move his hand to his dick so that he can hold the condom and allow you to roll it down his length. He bites his lip and tries to not let your touch get to him.

"Teamwork," Mingyu giggles when you lean back and look up at him. "We make a good team, right, baby?"

"Mm, the best," You confirm, tugging him down by the back of his neck to connect your lips. Mingyu's free hand brushes appreciately over your arm before he starts to lean forward, urging you back slowly until you're against the mattress and he's over you with his right arm holding him up, his left hand still locked with yours but now it's by your side.

You can feel his erection against you, the latex sliding against your thigh until you lift your legs to nudge him over a little by his hips. He presses down, gliding his cock over your folds and catching on your clit. He can't really get the position right like this though, not to slide into you. Mingyu lifts your connected hands up to the pillow beside your head so that he can move his weight over to his left elbow and get his right hand between your bodies. He grasps his erection loosely, just enough of a grip to line himself up with your dripping hole.

"Ready?" He breathes out after leaning up enough to look down into your eyes. You nod without hesitation so he pushes in. He's only an inch into you and he's already convinced that your pussy is the greatest pussy that has ever or shall ever exist.

As Mingyu gradually feeds his thick length into you, you have the honour of watching his face contort beautifully in pained pleasure. He's trembling and his gaze is unfocused even as he stares back down at you with his mouth dropped open wide without a single sound coming out. You're not even sure he's breathing, and honestly, you're not sure you are either.

The stretch of his cock against your walls is utterly mind-numbing. You've had your fair share of sexual partners in the past and plenty of sex toys to keep yourself happy otherwise, but nothing, absolutely nothing has ever felt the way Mingyu feels tucked up snug inside of you. You're not sure if it's because his cock is just that good, big in all the right ways without being too big, or if it's just that you're in so fucking deep with this man that anything he does feels ridiculously good. You're leaning towards the latter, though you are pretty certain that he has the most perfect cock to have ever graced this earth, if not the universe.

When Mingyu's hips finally press up against you signalling that he is fully sheathed within you, you're half certain that you can feel him in your stomach and absently press down with your left hand just to test that theory. You can't feel him, but you can imagine it all the same and wrap your arm back around his neck loosely.

"You okay?" You whisper when he remains that way, eyes still unfocused on your face and both hands on either side of your head where his right is gripping the pillow with everything in him.

"No," He chokes out, finally blinking alert. "Feel so good," He slurs. "Don't wanna cum yet, wanna stay in you forever."

"You don't have to pull out right away." You soothe your hand over the back of his neck, fingers digging into the muscles a little in an attempt to calm your overwhelmed boyfriend. "And I don't have any plans today so we can spend as long as you want in bed and you can fuck me again later when you're ready."

"Really?" He perks up a little. "N-no plans?"

"No, baby, I wanted to be available for whatever you want to do today. Granted, I thought it might be a drive or trip somewhere, not sex."

"Would you rather the trip?" He teases with a little smirk as he slowly pulls his hips back, dragging his cock along your walls that try to keep him in place. His smirk wavers.

"No. Fuck me." You reply knowing he really can't hold out anymore. You really don't want him to either. He nods and thrusts back into you.

You expect him to move fast and frantic, to chase the pleasure he has been dancing along the precipice of for a while now. Yet Mingyu fucks you slowly, rolling his hips deep into you and then all the way out until his tip is barely in you before sliding back in. He fucks you like he's got something to prove. It reminds you of his earlier words, that he wants to show you what he doesn't yet have the words to say.

"I love you," You blurt, suddenly overcome with the urge to say it.

Mingyu stills for a second then surges down to kiss you passionately, spilling his response into your mouth wordlessly as his hips return to work. Now though, he barely pulls out before fucking back into you. It's more of a grind than anything, his body pressed close enough that his pubic bone is applying pressure to your clit in a way that is shattering you from your mind to your lower stomach.

Very quickly, the pleasure is too much for either of you to make your lips work further so Mingyu leans up, propping himself up on his right elbow on the pillow, his fingers threading into your hair to hold you as his body continues to make your body burn brighter with every passing second. His forehead presses to yours for a few seconds before he lifts his head and looks to his left. You look over too, wondering what could draw his attention right now when he's fucking you like no one ever has before.

At first, you don't understand at all, all you can see in his line of sight is your hands. Which is nice, sure, the sight of your fingers locked together as he shows you how much he loves you with his cock buried deep within you and grinding against more sensitive spots than you ever knew you had before, though you don't understand his laser focus. But then you find the matching silver chains on your wrists, the hearts almost pressed together with the angle you were holding each other and you understand.

Those bracelets were always supposed to be a sign of love for him, even if you didn't know it. He had asked you to pick out bracelets for you to wear together so that he could always have a piece of you with him and you a piece of him. You had exchanged hearts, metaphorically and quite literally now with the physical representations tied securely around your wrists.

Something about that very thought sends you tumbling into an intense orgasm without you realising it's going to happen until the blinding pleasure is washing over you. Your hands both grip Mingyu, one in his hand and the other around his back and drawing red lines into his shoulder blade. You're not even aware of it, of how you call his name and clamp down around his cock as you gush over it, promptly sending him spiralling into his own mind-numbing orgasm.

It's minutes before either of you return back to earth.

You're back first, blinking away the tears that you hadn't realised had formed until now. Mingyu is pressing up against your chest with his head on your shoulder and the only movement of his body is his back as his breathing starts to even out. It hits you that you missed his orgasm; you had always wanted to know what he looks like during such intense pleasure, but you missed it thanks to your own. You frown a little though a quick glance at your still connected hands reminds you that you are his and he is yours, therefore, this will not be your only chance to see his handsome features contort with pleasure.

"I love you but I also love breathing." You point out after a few minutes of tracing patterns on his back with your left hand. At first, his weight on you hadn't been too much but it seems that your gentle trails on his sweat-sticky skin have made him relax a little too much and let his muscle-thick frame lay heavier on you.

"Mmm, can we still cuddle?" He requests, making no attempt to get up though he does do his best to lean more onto his right elbow again even without lifting up from your shoulder.

"Of course." Though he still doesn't get off of you. "Are you going to move, Gyu?"

"But then I won't be in you," You can hear the pout in his slightly muffled voice, even if you can't see it. "You're all warm, s'nice."

"So you'd rather cockwarm than let me breathe easily?"

He hesitates then giggles when you tug on his ear with an offended gasp. "I'm joking, I'm joking!" He leans up entirely onto his elbow, freeing your torso from him. "I will always pick your health."

"I should hope so." He scrunches his nose at you playfully. You return it without hesitation.

Although he hadn't wanted to get up initially, Mingyu goes to the effort once off of you to go all the way to the bathroom, once he has disposed of the soiled condom, where he fetches a warm damp cloth and a dry towel to clean you up first, then himself. You expect him to return to your side but he saunters off again, allowing you to once again marvel at his exposed ass as he walks away, and returns with a couple of water bottles and an armful of snacks.

The water makes sense, you think, but the mass of snack packets is a little questioning so you raise an eyebrow at him while you shuffle to sit up against the headboard and accept one of the bottles. "What?" He innocently replies, putting the other bottle down on the side table to free his hand and allow him to set up the various snacks there too. "You said we can spend as long as I want in bed, I just want to be prepared, sweetheart."

And well, you can't really argue with that, nor his cheeky endearing smile so you just laugh softly and hand over the open bottle to let him swallow down some of the cool liquid himself before he climbs up onto the bed and wraps his arms around your body to hold you in the way you had both wanted for so long.

Later, when you both have your energy back and Mingyu is no longer constantly on the verge of cumming too soon, he presses you back down against his bed all over again so that he can see every expression on your face as he takes you apart piece by piece just to see how you work at your very core. He learns all of your curves and edges so attentively and allows you to learn his in return.

By the time you're once again laid side by side much later, tucked up in each other's arms tired yet sated, you're certain that somewhere along the way, your pieces got mixed up and Mingyu found himself a permanent home in your chest. He had taken a piece of you for his own and given you a matching piece of him in return.

You can't see it, but it feels an awful lot like his heart. Silently, with nothing more than a soft kiss on his shoulder, you vow to him that you will spend your life protecting it with everything in you. And you're confident that he will do the same with yours as his lips press to your head in return.

🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈

A/N- don't forget to reblog if you enjoyed the story; it involved multiple moments where I almost quit so the show of support would mean a lot and motivate me to write more! & let me know what you think, that'd be grand too pls. I literally haven't written smut in years tho so be gentle on me I am babie <3

Happy birthday to the biggest babyboy 💋💖

[sitepathos]

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 2: The Neglect

The drive to the airport only made you feel more nervous about living here; you’ve only ever known Goodsprings, a town so small you could see everything in less than an hour, and now here’s a giant city that makes you feel like an ant. Even Vegas seems small to Gotham. And if their size wasn’t bad enough, the buildings’ weird stone creatures looked like they were waiting to fly off and scoop you up.

Luckily, your Daddy’s house is outside the city, surrounded by a wall with large fields behind them. It made you feel a little better that you wouldn’t be surrounded by so many people all the time.

“And here we are, Master Y/N,” Mr. Pennyworth says as he pulls up in front of the massive mansion.

You get out and start to feel even more nervous. This isn’t a house, it’s a castle! Like the ones Momma showed you when she was researching stuff for her books. You’d probably need a map just to find the bathroom!

But, Mr. Pennyworth climbs up the stairs to the front door and you don’t want to make him mad, so you follow behind him. He opens the door and you’re inside a massive room with a giant grand staircase with a long red rug leading up to a second level that you can see leads to other places in the mansion.

“Welcome to Wayne Manor, Master Y/N. If you’ll follow me to your room, please.”

He leads you to the second level and down a few hallways to a room on the other side of the mansion. As you walk, you can’t help but think that all of Goodsprings could live here and there still be lots of room left.

“I apologize for the walk, but as Master Wayne and I have been the only two long term residents of the manor, the rooms meant for the family have not been in a suitable state for quite some time. And since it’s been some time since we’ve had guests stay over, the usual guest rooms have been repurposed for storage. I’m working on having one of the family bedrooms ready for you as soon as possible so you’ll be close to your father.”

“It’s alright,” you say, your voice almost a whisper. You really didn’t expect the butler to be so nice to you. “Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth.”

He frowns a bit, but says nothing before opening the door to reveal a room smaller than your one back home. A bed sits in the far corner of the room with a dresser directly in front of it, a big tv sitting on top of it. There’s a door to the right where you enter the room.

“That door leads to your bathroom, Master Y/N. We have some time before the movers come with your belongings. Would you like to see the rest of the manor?”

“No, thank you. I think I wanna sleep after we put everything up.”

“Of course, you must be exhausted. If you want, I can handle collecting the boxes while you rest. I can leave them outside your door for you to deal with later.”

“I can help, Mr. Pennyworth.”

He seems a little surprised that you insisted on helping, but he says nothing before leading you back outside where a delivery truck stops behind the car. Since all you had was a few cardboard boxes that had nothing but clothes, toys, stuffed animals, books, and decorations, it didn’t take long to bring it all to your room and set everything up. As you look at your new room with all your stuff in it, you can’t help but feel like none of it belongs here.

That you don’t belong here.

“Do you need anything else, Master Y/N? Perhaps something to eat?”

“No thank you, Mr. Pennyworth. I just wanna sleep.”

“Very good. But just know, when you wake up, you will be eating something.”

You just nod and close the door, turning off the lights before crawling into bed. As you get settled, you can’t help but notice how cold the house feels. Yeah, you’re not in Nevada anymore, where it can go over a hundred degrees in the summer, but it’s like the house blocks any kind of heat, leaving only the cold. You close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

You wake up, dreaming of your Momma yelling for you and being in a car when something slams into you, and when you look around your room, you’re greeted by absolute darkness. As if the sun had completely disappeared. You jump out of bed and rush to the light switch, slapping it. When the lights come on, you realize that the lightbulb above you is dim and without the sun, it barely lights up your room. Wanting to be where it’s bright, you run out of your room and down the hall only to find the rest of the house is just as dim as your room, almost like no one in this house likes the light. Your little legs carry you down the same route you took earlier today and fortunately, the foyer is completely lit up by a giant crystal chandelier.

You run down the stairs and into another hall near the staircase. You pass by large room after large room and finally find yourself in a fancy kitchen, Mr. Pennyworth standing in front of a giant refrigerator.

“Master Y/N,” he says. “Are you alright?”

“Yes sir,” you say, not wanting to worry the man.

“But you’re out of breath. And you’re sweating.”

It’s then you notice that your forehead is slick with sweat and your chest is heaving. When you look up at the butler, you can tell he’s obviously worried about you.

“I got scared,” you admit. “I woke up and it was so dark.”

“I would imagine since it’s nighttime.” You jump a little at that. “You’ve been asleep for over twelve hours. I would’ve waken you up, but you looked like you needed the rest.”

“I haven’t slept so good since Momma…” You can’t bring yourself to say it. “Left.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed about, my boy.” He walks over to you and bends down to your height. “I could tell that you and your Mother were close and losing her so sudden is something no one so young should go through. I know that she can never be replaced, but I promise you that Master Bruce and I will be here for you and will help you with whatever you need.”

You feel the empty feeling that’s been with you since Momma died shrink just a little bit. Maybe you aren’t as alone as you thought.

“Alfred,” a deep voice lungs from behind you. You both look back to see a tall man with black hair and blue eyes standing in the hall. “I’m about to head out.”

“Master Bruce,” Mr. Pennyworth says, standing up. “This is Master Y/N. He’s awoke from his nap just a moment ago.”

You feel your heart stop at the man’s name. This is your Daddy? A million different questions swirled around in your head, like what was he like, what’s his favorite thing to do, did he remember your Momma?

He looks down at you. “Oh,” he says, a blank look on his face. “Hello.” With that, he turns around and begins walking down the hall. “I’ll be in touch, Alfred. From the sound of it, it’s gonna be a busy night.”

You feel your heart split in two at the way he just completely ignored you. Did you do something wrong? But you didn’t even say anything!How can he be bad at you if you haven’t said anything? You do your best to not cry as you look up at Mr. Pennyworth, who’s very angry.

“I’m sorry, Master Y/N. I know he’s throwing himself into his work to deal with Master Jason’s death, but that behavior is absolutely unacceptable. I’ll make sure he apologizes for that in the morning.”

Unfortunately, your Daddy didn’t say he was sorry when you woke up that morning. In fact, he wasn’t there when Mr. Pennyworth brought you down for breakfast, his work said there was someone important at one of his offices outside the country, so he hopped in his plane long before you woke up.

You were hurt, but Mr. Pennyworth said that he’d make sure that when things calmed down, you and your Daddy would have a long talk. You could do nothing but nod, trying not to cry because all you wanted was your Momma to walk through the door and take you back home. You got even more lonely when you started your new school, Gotham Academy, which is where all of Gotham’s rich people send their kids; Goodsprings Elementary wasn’t even half the size of this school and to make things worse, you had no friends here. That’s not to say that people didn’t want to talk to you, somehow news got out that you, the love child between Bruce Wayne and some unknown woman, were attending Gotham Academy, older and younger students shared your the moment you walked through the door. Hearing them ask you about your Momma only made you miss her more, so you stayed quiet.

They found something new to latch on to later in the week when your Daddy adopted Tim Drake, a boy whose parents were just as well known as him; his parents were killed in a plane crash and Daddy took him in. When they found out that the famous Tim Drake was now the adoptive son of Bruce Wayne, you were forgotten about. They asked him what Wayne Manor was like, how’d he feel to be adopted by Bruce Wayne, and other questions you didn’t really understand.

You were excited about Tim joining the family, though; you often wonder what having a brother would be like and you two were very close in age. It would be nice to have someone other than Mr. Pennyworth to talk to. Maybe the two of you could play Pokémon together!

You walked up to him the day Mr. Pennyworth told you that he’d be living at the manor with you, excited to get to know your newest family member, but that excitement quickly died when he took one look at you and walked away, like you weren’t interesting to him. You tried over and over to get him to like you, to get him to play with you, to at least look at you, but he just pushed you away (very harshly). And if things weren’t bad enough, he and Daddy spent every night together, locked away in the library.

It wasn’t fair! You were here first and had yet to talk to him, but Tim gets to spend time with him! And every time you tried to join, they just pushed you away, like you were some kind of fly buzzing around them. When that door closed, you wouldn’t see them until the next morning, so they were probably watching movies in there or something just as fun. You lived with three other people and you somehow felt more alone than ever since Momma died.

You met Dick a year later, around the anniversary of Momma’s death. At first, you were excited because Mr. Pennyworth said he was very friendly and had grown up in a circus before being adopted by Daddy, so he could do all sorts of tricks. Maybe you’d finally have a friend who wasn’t the butler.

Unfortunately, this ended in disappointment, too. Sure, it started off nice, he greeted you warmly (at least more warmly than your Daddy or Tim had) and ruffled your hair. You were so happy, you thought you’d explode. Finally, you had someone that you can spend time with.

“Dick,” your daddy said in his usual tone less voice.

“Sorry, baby bird, gotta go! We’ll hang out soon, though, promise!”

“Soon” never came though. He came over a few times during the day to spend time with Tim, either helping him with homework or taking him to Bat Burger, but never you. He always said that he promised to hang out with Tim and he’d do the same with you, but after the fifth time it happened, you stopped trying. He also spend time with Tim and your Daddy in the library at night, none of them coming out for the rest of the night.

Barbara came into your life little bit after Dick. When you saw her rolling in her wheelchair, you felt bad and offered to push her around. She snapped at you, saying she was fine and didn’t need your help. That was the first, last, and only time you talked to her. When you saw her spending time with your “family” in the library, you weren’t even hurt because you had grown used to it.

Cassandra and Stephanie came in around the same time when you nine. Stephanie was a burst of energy and it actually surprised you; Wayne Manor seemed to cancel out all noise and forced anyone inside it to be silent (at least that how it was for you) and she seemed to be happy to meet you. That lasted all of a week, though, and she quickly lost interest like a puppy that had grown up and was no longer cute to its owners.

Cassandra looked at you once, like he was trying to solve some mystery, and that was it. Alfred told you that she was mute and you did your best to learn ASL to better communicate with her. You picked up some of the basics, but not enough to carry on an actual conversation, so you opted to carry a little notepad with you so she could write things down, but when she kept ignoring you in favor of interacting with the rest of the family, you got the message. And when she and Stephanie spent time with your “family” in the library night after night, you stopped referring to Bruce as your Daddy. It was clear he didn’t want the title.

You had Alfred, anyway. Spending nights baking, helping him with his chores, and talking about your day over tea was enough for you.

Jason came back (from the dead) when you were ten. You met him when you caught him trying to sneak into the mansion through a window instead of coming through the door like a normal person (then again, you’ve long since realized that no one in this place is normal. Except Alfred.). Your meeting ended when he gave you a black eye and told you to stay away from him when all you did was say hi. You cried the entire night because you had school pictures the next day. It was a while before Jason started making regular appearances, but when he did, you weren’t surprised to see him spending nights in the library. When he glared at you, his blue eyes turning green, you asked Alfred to let you eat in your room and the man agreed to bring your meals to you.

When you were fifteen, the last one of join the Wayne Family was your biological brother, Damian. And the day you two met, you became convinced he only existed to make your pathetic life a living hell because the moment Alfred introduced you to him, he pulled an actual sword on you, giving you a small scar on your left cheek. You could do nothing but fall on your ass and look up in horror as this ten-year-old boy from hell raised his sword, spouting some nonsense about him being the “true blood son,” that you were “nothing more than the son of a harlot,” and how he will “be the one to inherit his father’s legacy.” For a moment, you thought you were about to be killed by the little bastard when Bruce appeared from out of nowhere and carried him off, Damian shouting threats and insults at you the entire time.

“Sorry about that, Y/N,” Dick said as he helped you up. “Are you ok?”

“What do you think,” you shouted at him. “That monster just sliced my face with a sword and tried to kill me!”

“Hey, don’t call him a monster,” he responded, give you a look of disappointment. “He had a difficult upbringing and he’s having to get used to Gotham and living with us. You should try to be a good big brother and support him.”

For a moment, you thought you suffered from a stroke and had misheard him, but the look on his face said you heard him correctly.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? He tries to kill me and I’m suppose to just let it go?”

“There’s no need for that kind of language, Y/N.”

You deemed the “conversation” a lost cause and leave, Dick calling out to you before going to the wing that holds the master bedrooms. Fortunately, Bruce kept bringing in other people to be a part of this demented family, so you were stuck with the tiny guest room that didn’t even have a window. But, it was far away from them, so it was a good trade.

After that, it seemed like Damian made it his mission in life to make your life hell. You couldn’t pass by him without him insulting you, hurting you, or bringing up your Momma, which would lead to you crying your eyes out. And when he started collecting pets, he would send them after you, Titus and Alfred the Cat chasing you throughout the manor, forcing you to barricade yourself in your room.

That leads to today: you accidentally dropped your Momma’s pen while walking to the kitchen and unfortunately, Damian was around the corner, watching the entire thing. He was able to move faster than your eyes could follow and before you knew it, he had swooped down and grabbed it just as you were about to. You look up in horror as he stares down at you with his usual smug and condescending expression as he waves the pen around, clearly mocking you.

“Your reflexes are slow and pathetic, inferior. You’re a massive disappointment to the Wayne bloodline.” He stares at the pen with disgust. “While this pen is poorly made and lacks any craftsmanship, it’s still more than a failure like you deserves.”

You stand up to your full height, trying to ignore the burning desire to tackle the little brat and bash his stupid head in. “Give that back to me. Now.” You realize you’re practically grinding your teeth to powder.

“I don’t take orders from you, inferior,” he bites back, his green eyes glaring at you. “You’re far beneath me. I come from two perfect bloodlines and that makes me superior to you by rite of birth. Your whore of a mother somehow managed to slither her way into my father’s bed and bring you into the world. You might have Wayne blood, but your tainted blood dilutes it.” He gets in your personal space nod even when looking up at you, he still tries to assert whatever dominance he thinks he has. “We will never be equals.”

You use this opportunity to grab the arm holding your Momma’s pen. As expected, he does not take kindly to this.

“You dare lay your hands on me,” he screeches, wrenching his hand away.

You don’t know how, but the little shit has impressive strength. Sure, you’re not an athlete (you’ve stayed roughly the same height since you hit puberty and can’t build muscle mass to save your life), but he shouldn’t have this kind of upper body strength! But, you’re determined to reclaim the pen, so you grab his hand with your other one and start pulling with all your might, doing whatever you can to break his grasp of it.

“Let go of me, you filthy interloper!” With a big tug, he breaks your grip and you can only look on in terror as he walks over to the kitchen window. “If you want this pen so much, you can look for it out there!” In a flash, he opens the nearby kitchen window and hurls your pen outside, where a massive downpour drenches the yard.

You can’t help but look on as it flies far from the mansion and out of your field of vision; on the ground, you see a ripple in the middle of the massive lake of rainwater and mud that the storm has created over the last three days of nonstop rain, indicating that your precious pen is now underwater.

In that moment, you feel nothing but immense sadness at your pen’s loss and unbridled rage at the one who did caused it. Every last thing he’s done to you flood your mind and you feel your face becomes incredibly flushed, your vision goes blood red in rage, and hot, angry tears stream from your eyes; before you know it, you’re right behind him, his back still turned to you from throwing your pen.

“You son of a bitch,” you shout at the top of your lungs, causing him to turn his head as you quickly deliver a swift backhand to his left check, the sound of your hand striking him echoing in the kitchen.

You know he shouts something back, but you’re so filled with rage that his words fail to reach your ears. You know he’ll retaliate and probably get in trouble with Bruce and Dick, but you don’t care. You’re pissed off and want nothing more than to inflict even a small amount of pain onto him, so that he’d feel even an ounce of what he’s made you feel since you two met. Using your height advantage, you grab both his shoulders and with all your rage-enhanced strength, you shove him to the floor, loving the sight of him wincing when he lands on his rear, but instead of looking up at you in fear like you wanted, he has a pissed off look.

Realizing that finding your pen is more important than dealing with him, you sprint to the door, throw it open, and dash into the rain, not caring that your clothes were completely soaked after only a few seconds and the wind froze you to the core. All that matters is finding that pen, the only piece of Momma that you were able to take with you, something so precious to her she refused to go anywhere without it.

Except that day, when she was taken from you and your life fell apart.

You wade through the many puddles, your socks providing no support so you stumble and fall, getting even more wet. But you pick yourself up and keep running until your at the puddle far from the house and that’s when you get on your hands and knees and start waving around hoping to touch even a little bit of the metal. You feel nothing, but you don’t let up, moving around the puddle, not caring that you’re getting more and more soaked with every second and that mud is slathered over your arms and legs.

“Come on,” you shout to yourself, getting more and more upset. “Come on, where are you?”

Finally, you feel something small, metallic, and cylindrical. You latch onto it like a lifeline and pull it up so hard the force of it makes you fall on your back, the puddle covering your entire body. You quickly sit up to see Momma’s pen. Wet and covered in mud, sure, but it’s back where it belongs. Now that the urge to find it is over, your senses quickly catch up and your realize your freezing, shivering, and soaked to the bone.

You run back to the mansion and when you close the door, you see that everyone is in the kitchen, all their eyes on you. You look at Bruce and see him mad, you look at Damian and see a shit-eating grin, and you look at Dick and see disapproval.

“Did you slap Damian when all he did was ask you for a pen,” Bruce asks.

That little shit’s convinced them this is all your fault. Of course, you should’ve known that he’d make you the bad guy and deflect any blame on his part.

“He didn’t ’ask,’ he took—“

“But you did slap him over a pen,” Bruce cuts you off.

“Yes, but—“

“Wow, I’ve done some petty shit, but this beats all,” Jason mocks, acting like this was some show and not you being ganged up on.

“That’s so uncalled for, Y/N,” Dick chides you. “There’s no need for you put your hands on Damian, especially for something so small.”

Your breath hitches and all you want is for the floor to open up and swallow you whole. They say nothing to you and ignore your existence for years and now, the one time they notice and speak to you, it’s to do this?

“Master Bruce,” Alfred interjects. “You’re not being fair. I believe that pen—“

“Alfred, it doesn’t matter what’s so special about the damn thing, it’s just a pen.” He holds his hand out to you. “Give it to me. Damian asked for it and after what you just did, he’s going to get it.”

You see Damian’s grin grow and your rage comes back.

“Hell no,” you mutter, slipping it into your pocket. You see everyone’s eyes widen while Bruce’s frown gets more intense at your defiance.

“What did you just say?”

You can tell he’s pissed at you defying him. Oh well, you’ve already dug your grave, what’s adding a few more feet to it gonna do?

“I said hell no!”

“Oh, man,” Jason cackles. “You done fucked up, kid!”

“Go to your room,” Bruce says with clenched teeth. “You’re grounded.”

You quickly leave the room, wanting to put as much room between them and you as possible. As you leave, you hear them talking about you, asking what’s wrong with you, how childish you are, and other stuff you really don’t want to hear right now. When you close your door behind you, the dam breaks and you fall to your knees, letting out a wail and allowing tears to stream from your eyes like a waterfall. The last time you cried this hard was when you were told Momma had died and it’s in this moment you wish you had been in the car with her now more than ever.

A knock at the door brings you back to your harsh and uncaring reality.

“Master Y/N,” Alfred calls from the other side. “May I come in?” You get up and open the door. “Oh, my dear boy.”

You allow him to come in and he closes the door behind him before bringing you into a tight hug, which is when you resume your crying.

“I hate them,” you shout in between sobs. “I hate them all!”

“I know,” he says. “I tried to tell them after you left the room, but they wouldn’t listen.”

“Alfred,” you say, pulling yourself together enough to talk coherently. “When I turn eighteen, I’m going back to Goodsprings.”

He pulls away and looks at you. “I understand why you feel that way, but it’s been ten years since you left, Master Y/N. If you go back there, you’ll be alone.”

“I’m alone here, Alfred!” You pull away from him. “Ever since I came here, they’ve made it clear that I’m unwelcome here! That I don’t belong here! At least back home, I’ll be surrounded by memories of Momma.”

“But this has been your home for ten years.”

“This isn’t my home, Alfred. It never was and it never will be.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it. Instead, he pulls you back into another hug. “I understand. I’ll miss you dearly, but if going back will make you happy, I’ll wish you all the best.”

You can do nothing but cry. You’ll miss Alfred, the only good thing to come out of going to live in this godforsaken city and this manor from hell, but when you need to get out of here. The sooner you leave Gotham and get back to Goodsprings, the better you’ll be.

A/N: thank you all so much for the likes and comments on chapter one! I really didn’t think that so many people would like it, but here we are! I hope you all continue to enjoy this series!

Tag list: @minkyungseokie @solelifauna @nosyrobin

[etherealyoungk]

new beginnings - jeon wonwoo

summary: in which a certain someone starts getting extra clingy to you, leading you to find out you're pregnant.

pairing: husband!wonwoo x fem!reader

themes: established relationship, terms of endearment, pregnancy, fluffy, comfort

warnings: reader is pregnant, mentions of nausea, throwing up, anxiety, vague mentions of intimate relations, cats

wordcount: 2.1 k

a/n: just a random idea i had and thought might be cute

you come home a bit later than usual, the smell of something delicious wafting in the air, welcoming you as you step inside your cozy home. you walk in and spot wonwoo in the kitchen, busy stirring something in a pot as you discard your bag on the couch, spotting oreo, wonwoo's cat curled up on the other end in a peaceful slumber.

you slowly make your way towards wonwoo. "hey", you say, as you stand next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. "hi love", he responds immediatily as he presses a soft kiss to your temple as you nod. "long day?", he asks, taking in your tired expression as you nod your head.

"you're home early", you point out, as you hook your arm around his, watching him stir the pot of soup carefully so that the ingredients wouldn't stick to the bottom and burn.

"yeah, i wanted to surprise you", he says, looking at you. you smile at his words and he smiles back at you. you let go of his arm and busy yourself with setting up the table. you and wonwoo had sweet love story and were now living a happy married life, and you couldn't ask for anyone else to spend it with. wonwoo was just your person and you were his.

but wonwoo's cat on the other hand was another story. you could say that she didn't really have a thing for you. oreo had never bonded with you, and you were only allowed to give her the occasional pet before she'd walk off, uninterested in you. orea never got cuddly with you like she did with wonwoo. you were bummed at first but you decided that maybe she'd grow into you later it. but it looked like you were just going to be a side character to her.

wonwoo asks you about your day as you both eat, but he's also acutely aware of how little food you've served yourself and how you've barely touched the soup he made. "not hungry?", he prompts after a while. "i am, i'm just a little tired", you tell, feeling a bit bad because wonwoo had made your favorite soup and you barely felt like eating it. you force yourself to have at least a few spoonfuls of the spoon and finish up your rice.

it's two am and you wake up feeling nauseous so you sit up, hoping that would ease the feeling but it didn't. it was like wonwoo was so in tune with you that he could always tell when you're awake and you heard him stir beside you. "are you okay love?", he asks, his voice laced with sleep.

"just a little nauseous", you tell softly, feeling umcomfortable.

"should i make you some peppermint tea?", he asks, now sitting up beside you. he doesn't wait for your answer as he heads to the kitchen to make it for you regardless. he comes up and places the steaming mug of peppermint tea on your bedside table, as he sits down next to you. his hand finds yours as he laces his fingers in your hand, looking at you, worried. after a few sips of the tea, you feel slightly better and you're now cuddled in wonwoo's arms as you lay your head on his chest, his hands holding you safe from the world.

you feel the bed dip again as oreo, wonwoo's cat jumps on the bed, walking towards you both. you look at her, ready for her to go towards wonwoo but instead, she comes up to you and settles next to you. "baby are you seeing this", you tell, shocked. "looks like she's finally warming up to you", he jokes and it was like oreo understood and she meows as she looks at you before curling up beside you.

you fall asleep only to wake up an hour late as you rush into the bathroom and throw up, feeling horrible and absolutely terrible. you feel wonwoo's hand on your back a few moments later as he rubs it gently to help you. he then helps you up and you clean yourself up before he helps you back in bed.

that whole week, you battle with nausea, throwing up either in the morning or night, and feeling tired and fatigued all of a sudden. you try to brush it off, blaming it on the stress or just the flu, but wonwoo insists on going to the doctor to figure out what is going on.

you take a sick leave the next day and you're sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone when oreo comes up to you again, sitting on your stomach, giving you a little meow as she closes her eyes and goes into her meditation. you smile, feeling like you were being blessed by her presence lately. she'd started to get cuddly with you the past week and you were surprised but happy because otherwise you were going to think she was going to hate you forever.

you're aimlessly scrolling through your phone when you come across a video of a cat sitting on a lady, much like how oreo was sitting on you and as the video goes on, the lady explains how she found out she was pregnant because her cat started to get extra cuddly with her. your brain pauses and you glance at oreo, who's in a peaceful slumber on your stomach. you quickly open google, typing in if cats can tell if a person is pregnant and you gulp as you read articles and information that shows up and things slowly start adding up in your mind. this would explain all the nausea, the weird mood swings you've been having and the fatigue you've been experiencing the past two weeks. oh my god.

you gently move oreo off you, apologising to her as you grab a coat and slip on your shoes, heading to the nearest pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test. you buy two to give yourself the benefit of the doubt and now you're in your bathroom as you wait for the results of pregnancy tests. you stand a few steps back, nervous to see the results.

sure, you and wonwoo had talked about having kids of your own and it was something you both did want. you both had also taken care and been careful whenever you were intimate with each other. but now as you stand in the bathroom all alone, a feeling of dread engulfs you and pools in your stomach. you move towards the countertop and look at yourself in the mirror. it was going to be okay you thought ou close your eyes and take a deep breath and you finally find the courage to look down at the pregnancy tests laid out in front of you. you blink down as you see two lines on them bioth and let out a shaky breath as you try to ground yourself.

you didn't tell wonwoo that evening, still trying to take everything in but mostly because you didn't know how to. you were unsure and scared. but when he comes home tonight, you can't seem to hold onto this secret anymore as it seems to be eating you alive. when he comes home later that evening, you're quick to greet him as he shrugs off his blazer, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. you give him a kiss as you ask him about his day. he walks into the bedroom to change and you follow him. "what's going on in that pretty little mind of yours", he asks as he loosens his tie and takes off his watch. "how do you know something is going on?", you ask. "because you only follow me around when you have something you want to get off your chest", he tells, coming towards you. you find it sweet that he's picked up on his piece of information and observed, he knew you too well.

"okay fine, i do have something to tell you", you say finally as you move closer to wonwoo. you look up at him and he patiently waits for you to speak. but as you're looking at him and trying to find the right words and how to get them out, you find yourself getting overwhelmed with emotion all of a sudden and you're tearing up. your gaze flickers to the side of the room and down before you look back up but wonwoo is keen to pick up on his.

"what's wrong sweetheart?", he asks as you try with all your might to hold the tears in, trying to blink back your tears, but you can't and they flow down your cheeks and before you know it you're crying. wonwoo pulls you into his arms, his hand running up and down your back softly in an attempt to soothe you. "did something happen?", he asks, worried as his gaze softens.

you sniffle as you look at him, still in his arms. "no- i-i- don't know why i'm crying god i feel like an idiot", you tell as wonwoo cups your face, gently wiping away your tears with his thumb. "you're not", he assures you and he holds your gaze as he looks at you sweetly, not forcing you to say anything.

he gently moves you to the bedside and sits you down looking at you deeply, a hit of worry laced in his gaze. you'd been off this entire week and he was worried.

"are you okay?", he asks again, gently as he looks at you, his hand intertwined in yours.

"i-im pregnant", you finally tell softly and in the quiet room it was like your words echoed in the air. wonwoo blinks at you and you can see the wave of emotion he goes through.

"i took a pregnancy test, two in fact and they both came back positive", you add, looking at wonwoo to see his reaction.

"you're pregnant", he repeats like he was testing how the words would sound on his lips. "we're pregnant", he says again and you nod.

"i'm pregnant", you tell, tearing up again. "we're pregnant", you say again.

you find yourself tearing up again and wonwoo cups your cheek. "but what if i'm not ready, i'm scared", you add softly and wonwoo is quick to embrace you in another hug.

"i think, no i know that you're going to be a great mother love", he tells. "and remember, you're not alone in this, i'm right here and i'll be here with you every step of the way", he adds as he hugs you tighter.

you pull away, looking at him and you smile. "i love you", you say. " i love you more", he says, making you smile.

"i can't believe we're going to be parents", he says in a soft excitement as he kisses your forehead.

"you know, oreo was the first one to know", you say and he furrows his brows in confusion.

"what do you mean?", he asks, his hands resting on waist. "that's why she's been so clingy and cuddly to me these last two weeks. she knew i was pregnant, cats can sense it", you explain and his interest is piqued by this piece of information. "should we make a bet on if oreo's going to befriend our kid or not", he says and you snort, chuckling at his suggestion. god how you loved him and his silly antics. "i'm gonna bet she will befriend him, she already has technically", you add before leaning in wonwoo's chest again.

-bonus scene-

you're laying on the couch, now six months along your pregnancy and your bump is growing healthily. wonwoo's been so sweet and supportive throughout it all, from helping you when you were puking your guts out from morning sickness to getting you all your pregnancy cravings even if they were weird.

you hear the door open, wonwoo walking in with takeaway from your favourite cafe because you were craving a red velvet cake. he triumphantly lifts the bag as he walks in, putting it down on the table as he sees oreo perched on your belly.

"i think out kid is going to be a cat lover", wonwoo says. "imagine if they're not", you add as wonwoo hands you the cake box and you take it, the sweet smell already filling the air. you take a bit and sigh, content and offer wonwoo a bite.

just then you feel the baby kick and oreo looks alert, wondering where the little movement came from as she looks around and looks at you with a questioning look. "baby, did you see that?", you ask. the baby kicks again and oreo looks around again and glances at your belly before meowing at you and you chuckle. "aww she felt the kick", you tell. wonwoo smiles as he looks at you, his heart overflowing with love as he thinks about how lucky he is and how grateful he is

taglist: @biboramp3 @naaaaafla @slytherinshua @weird-bookworm @icyminghao @blue-jisungs @wootify @idubiluv @n4mj00nvq @joshuaahong @itsveronicaxxx @fallingforshua29 @frankenstein852 @lvlystars @mirxzii drop an ask if you want to be added to my permanant taglist!

[lemoncrushh]

The One Where Harry Tries to Win You Back

Summary: When Harry cancels your date again, you decide to go out alone.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2222

A/N: An angsty one shot from 2016.

You dropped the phone on the bed before you plopped down angrily beside it. With a huff, you crossed your arms, determined not to let the tears come that burned behind your eyes. Harry had canceled your date...again.

This was the third time in less than two weeks. Each time he had a valid excuse, but you couldn't help but feel like you were less of a priority and more of an "I'll see you when I can" kind of a person. You'd always put him first, rearranging your schedule to fit his, but you didn't think he did the same. And frankly, you were getting sick of it.

You loved being with him, in fact you thought things were getting serious for a while. But now you weren't so sure. You knew he was busy, that was a given. But having to sit home with the television and a pint of ice cream each time he called to say he was sorry, he had to cancel, was starting to wear on your nerves, not to mention your self-esteem.

Each time he'd apologized, and each time you'd told him it was okay, you understood. Now as you sat on the bed looking down at the dress you'd bought on credit, you started to question your level of understanding. Just how much can a girl take before she says never mind and moves on?

Taking a deep breath, you knew what you needed to do. You resolved not to watch another movie on Netflix or whine into a bowl of Haagen Dazs. You were supposed to be going to a party tonight. And that's just what you were gonna do, Harry or no Harry.

Grabbing your bag and your phone, you headed out the door. As soon as you pulled up to the valet, you saw the crowd of people, for a moment second guessing your decision. But when your door opened and the valet held out his hand, you took it, stepping out of the car into the warm night and handing him the keys. Had you been with Harry, no doubt the cameras would have been flashing a thousand times more than they were now, but regardless of his absence, you knew photos were being taken of you. You didn't care. You were determined to have a good time.

When you walked into the room, the music hit you instantly, the bass vibrating in your chest. You gazed around to see if you saw any familiar faces. You saw a few, but nobody that you had been introduced to yet. Finding the bar, you quickly ordered a drink, swaying your hips to the beat. Within minutes, you were feeling loose and carefree, ready to dance.

Squeezing past a handful of people, you made it to the middle of the dance floor, raising your hands above your head. Almost immediately, two girls that you recognized smiled and joined you. Soon, you had a small crowd around you, all of you lost in the music and the vibe.

Three or four songs later, you made your way back to the bar, ordering yourself a shot and another cocktail. The two girls you'd recognized chatted with you for a bit before you noticed one of the guys that had been dancing near you giving you the eye. Momentarily you wished Harry was with you, but you quickly shrugged off the thought, feeling good to be noticed.

An hour and a couple drinks later, you were back on the dance floor, the crowd now so big that everyone was touching, barely any space between their bodies. You felt a pair of hands on your hips, a male body pressed up against yours. Perhaps it was your now inebriated state or just the uninhibited high you felt, but you leaned back into him, not caring at all who was watching.

That's when you saw him.

The hairs on the back of your neck tickled your skin as his eyes burned into yours. If you weren't so mad at him at that moment, he might have taken your breath away. As usual, he looked drop dead gorgeous.

Swallowing, you averted your gaze, grabbing the hands that continued to grip your hips, moving them up to your waist. You could feel him watching you as you allowed the faceless male behind you grind up against you. Suddenly, you felt a firm hand grab hold of your arm.

"What are you doing?" he growled.

Finally looking at him, you cocked a brow. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"It looks like you came here without me and you're letting some bloke feel you up."

Swaying a bit, you gave Harry a smirk. "So what if I am?"

Clenching his jaw, he grabbed your arm tighter, pulling you off the dance floor. When you were both out of earshot, Harry stopped and you jerked your arm out of his grip.

"What the fuck Harry?" you scowled.

Her glared at you, looking like he was about to retort, but thought better of it, clamping his mouth shut. Blowing a breath out of his nostrils, he ran a hand through his curls. Finally, he opened his mouth again, this time to speak.

"I should be asking you that, shouldn't I?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" you nearly shouted.

"It means..." Harry paused, "it means I'm sorry I had to cancel, but I didn't expect to see some other bloody guy's hands on you!"

"Why not?" you shot back. "You don't give a shit about me!"

"What?"

"Admit it, Harry. It was fun while it lasted. But you've made it apparent that this isn't serious to you." You started to walk away, but Harry grabbed you by the wrist.

"Why do you say that?" he asked, the expression on his face a mixture of hurt and fury.

"You always have something else going on that's more important. Yes, I get that you're who you are. I knew that coming into this. But I'm tired of you canceling on me. I've had it. If I don't mean more to you, then I'm moving on. I'm saying goodbye right now."

This time you were able to remove your arm from his grasp, heading toward the ladies' room.

"[Y/N]!" he called, but you didn't turn around.

Once in the stall, you let the tears fall. The truth was, you liked him. A lot. You didn't really want to let him go. But you were so tired of being made to feel like a second choice, like you would always be there waiting on the back burner. You deserved more than that.

After washing your hands and freshening up, you made your way back to the party. You didn't see any sign of Harry, so you assumed he'd probably given up and left. Fine. So be it. When you returned to the bar for another drink, however, you heard a low voice in your ear.

"Can we talk about this?"

You barely shifted your gaze to look at him, standing so closely behind you, you could feel his breath against your neck.

"Please?"

You closed your eyes softly before turning around to face him. This time all of the anger he'd shown before had dissipated, leaving only a face of concern. You swallowed hard, opening your lips, but giving only a nod instead.

"I'm really sorry," he confessed, his shoulders dropping.

You bit your lower lip, wanting to believe him, but still holding your ground.

"If you say so," you muttered.

Harry sighed. "[Y/N], Jesus, what can I do to show you I care about you? That I want to be with you?"

"Stop canceling on me!" you yelled a little louder than you'd meant to.

"I can't...I can't always help that. If I have a last-minute work commitment, I have to tend to it. It has nothing to do with not wanting you, or not making you a priority. Please understand that."

Harry's tone was still firm though laced with frustration. You stared at him for a moment, trying hard not to cave. He could feel your resistance, so he threw his hands up.

"I don't know what else to do."

"I don't either," you said. "Maybe this just isn't working out, Harry."

"So that's it?" he shook his head in disbelief. "It's over?"

You blinked. "I guess so."

Harry gave you one last blank stare before turning on his heels and walking away. You drew a shaky breath, letting it out in the same fashion. The drink you had been determined to order to wash the pain away suddenly had no appeal. In fact, you now felt completely sober. Stepping away from the bar, you made your way closer to the exit until you finally found yourself outside waiting for the valet to bring your car around.

You weren't really sure how you made it home. You barely remembered the drive at all. You felt utterly numb. Stripping out of your dress, you hung it back up in the closet and changed into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Suddenly, another wave of anger came over you. So fucking what if Harry Styles didn't want you! You pulled your hair back into a ponytail and scrubbed off your makeup, getting more perturbed with each wipe of your hands. By the time you were finished, your cheeks flushed from the cleanse as well as annoyance, you realized you were crying.

Dammit! you cursed just as you heard a knock at the door. Or at least you thought you did. You paused in the hallway to listen for it, and when another knock came, you quickly wiped your eyes, heading toward the sound.

Harry stood on the other side of the door, a similar look on his face as your own. You let out a gasp, your lips beginning to say his name before he crossed the threshold and took your face into his hands, kissing you passionately.

"Ha-Harry," you managed to whisper when he finally pulled away.

"Listen to me, [Y/N]," he insisted. "I want you. I want us."

Blinking back a fresh set of tears, you looked at him, speechless. Pursing his lips, Harry breathed out of his nostrils before continuing.

"I'll show you how much. I felt gutted that I'd disappointed you again, having to cancel our date. I was able to get out early, so I called you, but got no answer. So I came over. And you weren't home. I called again, still nothing. I stood here in your fucking hallway trying to ring you until your neighbor saw me and said they'd seen you leave in a 'hot little number'," said Harry, using air quotes on the last three words. "I thought maybe you'd decided to go to the party. Wondering why or how didn't even register at the time. I was just thinking it would be nice to see you there. I'd show up and we could enjoy the rest of the evening together. I had no idea you were doing it out of spite, like some sort of way to get back at me for letting you down."

"I'm sor-" you began, but Harry pressed his finger to your lips.

"I'm not saying this to make you feel guilty," he added. "You’re entitled to feel the way you feel. But I gotta admit, that shook me to the core seeing you with your body right up against some other guy."

"It did?" you murmured underneath his finger.

Harry nodded, finally releasing his finger from your mouth, allowing it to slide down your chin.

"Yeah. It did." He took another deep breath, letting it out roughly. "Maybe it's what I needed. Like a wake-up call."

"Harry, I-"

"Let me finish," he interrupted again. The furrow of his brows erased as he gave a small smile. "Please."

You chuckled lightly. "Maybe you should get inside the door first."

Harry laughed with you, stepping further into your apartment, allowing you to shut the door behind him. Then he took your hands in his.

"There's something else I have to confess," he swallowed. "And I was going to tell you tonight. But then..."

His voice trailed off as he looked at the floor.

"What is it?" you asked meekly.

Harry cleared his throat and looked up slowly. "Lately I've been feeling like...like I'm falling for y-"

This time it was your turn to silence him with your finger. Tears welled up in your eyes again as you felt your breath catch in your throat.

"Don't say it, Harry," you muttered.

"No?" he shook his head, his eyes wide in question.

"Not if you're just trying to get me back," you choked. "Not unless..."

Harry grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to him, his mouth crashing into yours with fervor and avidity. You heard yourself groan against his lips, your arms eagerly grabbing hold of his neck, needing to feel his body as close to yours as possible.

"...you mean it," you managed to finish between kisses.

You didn't need to hear Harry's response in words. He said it all as he lifted you up by the hips, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist, and he led you back to the bedroom.

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

If You'll Have Me

A/N: Finally, this is here. Got this request back in March I think so anon, here ya go, sorry it took so long. Pairing: Megumi x Fem! Reader *(Both are 21 here) Warnings: Angst, breakup, pregnancy

It rained the day Megumi broke up with you. He sat there on your sofa, looking detached and apologetic, and you felt like your heart might choke you to death, the way it pounded frantically in your chest.

“I gave you everything!” You whispered furiously. “I supported you! Waited long hours for you to get home, without knowing what may have happened to you! I looked after Tsumiki when she became bedridden!”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Megumi’s eyes are like dark tunnels, with not a trace of warmth or emotion in them. “With everything that’s happened…I don’t feel like I’m worthy of you.”

“Oh, how noble of you!” You spat, feeling utterly humiliated. “I suppose you’ll say it’s not me, it's you?” 

“It is me. I see the fear in your eyes whenever I leave you for a mission. I hear the pain in your voice when I tell you I’m coming home late. I hate being the person that makes you feel that way. You’re such a good person. That’s why I think you’d be better off without me.”

“Get out.” You managed to squeeze the words past your tightening throat, your eyes stinging painfully, tears spilling from them. Wordlessly, Megumi gets up and walks towards the door.

Perhaps you’d been daring him to go because your heart stopped for a second as he got to the door. Part of you wished he’d stop, look at you, and gather you close, saying he couldn’t live without you. You’re begging him with your being to not throw this away. 

He’s supposed to stop, isn’t he? He’s supposed to realize he’s being irrational, that there’s no one better than him for you? You were a pair, meant to be. His look haunts you as he turns the doorknob.

“I’m sorry,” he says brokenly, before disappearing into the rain. 

You stood there, watching the downpour, feeling your heart crack and splinter, like a delicate teacup that had fallen from a shelf, no safe hands ready to catch it and prevent it from falling to its doom. 

.・。.・゜✭・.

A month later, you feel exhausted, more than usual. Getting out of bed feels like a chore. Your back and feet hurt, and nothing stays in your stomach. You try everything. Soup, saltine crackers, toast, applesauce. Whatever you ate made you nauseated and dizzy. 

You started worrying you had caught a really persistent form of the flu, but when your period didn’t start, you felt a wave of dread. 

Now, as you stared at the positive pregnancy test in your hands, you felt like someone had torn your body open, invisible wounds reopening and stinging afresh, chaotically spilling your feelings everywhere. 

“You need to tell him.” Gojo leans back in his chair, assessing you critically. You look at him coldly, cursing his six-eyes technique.

“I do not. And it’s none of your fucking business.”

“It is. Believe me when I say Megumi will not shirk his duties as a father. It would devastate him if he ever gets to know he has a child and that he was absent from its life.”

“How can you possibly assume that?” You cross your arms over your still flat belly and glare at him. Like it wasn’t bad enough that you were Megumi’s ex, now you were knocked up with his baby. “He wanted nothing to do with me. That man was barely able to keep promises to me as his girlfriend. What makes you think he’s going to step up and be a father to a child he probably doesn't want?”

“Because he knows what it’s like to be that child,” Gojo says the words quietly but with a firm edge that had you staring at him in disbelief.

“What?”

“Has Megumi ever told you about his dad?” Your silence says it all and Gojo narrows his eyes. “He’ll probably want my head if he ever finds out I told you this but I think it’s necessary.” Gojo sighs deeply and continues.

“Megumi’s dad loved him. But he simply wasn’t fit to be a parent. He abandoned Megumi and Tsumiki. Megumi was 7 years old at the time.”

You blink back tears as Gojo continues. “Megumi grew up as my ward. I don’t pretend to be his dad, but I can’t just let this slide. I understand you probably harbor resentment towards him, but cutting him out of this decision isn’t the right way to go about it.”

“I don’t want him to feel like he has any obligations towards me because of the baby. That’s the only reason he’d try to get in touch with me now, right?” You can’t forgive him for deciding to walk out of your life just yet, no matter what his childhood was like. 

“How long do you think you can keep this a secret? Megumi might not be around that much anymore, but you’ll start to show soon enough. If not me, someone else will tell him.”

Your expression hardens and you stand up with steely resolution coursing in your veins. “Thank you for your opinion. But the last I checked, though it takes two to make a baby, it only takes one to raise it.”

You pack your belongings and urgently move out of Tokyo by the end of the week.

.・。.・゜✭・.

Surprisingly, no one comes to bother you. You start over and manage to find work at a small accounting firm as a secretary. Your boss is sympathetic to your situation and doesn’t give you a hard time about needing maternity leave. Everything is going well despite the constant worry about running into someone from the jujutsu world but so far, nothing has happened. Your tummy swells and grows, the baby healthy and full of life. It brings you joy, knowing you carry this little being inside you.

One night, you wake up with a strange feeling inside your abdomen. Worried that the stress was getting to you as you entered your eighth month of pregnancy, you restlessly forced yourself out of bed and tried walking around the small apartment to ease your nerves.

It was a curious sensation, like something unseen was flowing through your veins, not sinister but a little unsettling. You place a hand on your swollen middle in hopes of soothing the baby then freeze when you feel the flow of cursed energy in your womb. 

You’d heard it wasn’t uncommon for sorcerer babies to begin regulating and channeling their cursed energy in utero, but it filled you with awe at how familiar the energy signature was to Megumi’s, vitality coursing under your fingertips as you felt it kick and turn. 

A soft rustling has you turning in panic, a gasp escaping your lips as you see 2 dog-like figures padding over to you from nowhere, their eyes glowing in the dark. Up close, you recognize them as Megumi’s divine dogs, their tails wagging as they approach you.

Motherly instinct has you clutching your stomach and angling away from them. Had Megumi finally figured out the truth? But the dogs’ demeanor didn’t seem to match that scenario. If anything, they looked curious and friendly. One of them finally gets close enough to nose your belly with its snout, before nuzzling the bump affectionately, which the other one mirrors. You watch in silent fascination, then feel a surge of energy from your womb. 

The baby was responding to the dogs. 

They recognized it as their owner. The dogs weren’t here because of Megumi. The baby had subconsciously summoned them. With a shaky hand, you pet both of them, seeing their eyes close happily. They bring back memories of Megumi and your eyes fill with tears.

“Does he want to be a father?” You ask them. They look at you with intense yellow eyes and before you can say anything else, vanish in a blink. 

.・。.・゜✭・.

The day the baby arrives is one of the happiest and emotionally draining days of your life. You lay on the labor bed, gripping the sheets as the contractions relentlessly come and go, each more painful than the last. 

You almost scream, not from the pain but in shock, as something noses your hand. Turning, you see the divine dogs at the side of the bed, unseen to the normal humans. You could’ve wept with relief, knowing you weren’t quite alone. You pet them and grip their fur as you finally deliver your baby boy into the world. 

The small pink bundle was a miniature of Megumi, the beautiful black hair plastered to its little head, screaming with the rage of life. With shaky hands you accept him, your heart so full of love you feel like it could burst. You’re so occupied that you don’t notice the divine dogs quietly padding outside, tails wagging, as someone lingers near the door.

Megumi has tears in his eyes as he hides just outside the room. He sees his child, and you, the person he loves and cherishes. You’re cooing at the baby, getting him settled down to suckle, his little hand wrapped around your finger so tightly.

Megumi balls his hands into fists feeling his fingernails dig into his palm, emotions raging through him. He’s so glad the two of you are healthy, and there’s regret for his mistakes of the past. He understands why you left Tokyo. You were a proud woman, independent, determined to not need him after he’d broken up with you. It wasn’t like you to grovel or beg. He was sure if the baby hadn’t summoned the divine dogs by accident, he would’ve never found you. 

Yet he felt like an intruder, an outsider, unworthy of entering the room. He understands what he broke the day he left and it eats away at his soul knowing that he was the reason you didn’t come to him after finding out you were pregnant. It had taken so long for you to let your walls down, to learn to depend on him finally, and in an instant, he had taken that away from you, the one thing you had avoided for so long; the need to rely on others.

It was that which drove you, the shattered dependability, and he remembered how long it had taken to reassure you to be less guarded on that front. He was awful, no better than his own father. But he had to try. He knocks on the door.

You turn, breath catching when you see him in the doorway.

“Hi.” He tries to not let his tears show, but when your eyes fill, he can’t contain himself. He closes the gap and embraces both of you as you sob uncontrollably into his shoulder.  

.・。.・゜✭・.

Megumi sleeps on the sofa, taking care of his child with such tenderness and love. He relearns everything about you, appreciating all that you are. It takes time but the relationship rebuilds steadily.

“How did Gojo not rat me out?” you ask one evening as Megumi cooks dinner while you cuddle the baby on the sofa. 

Megumi pauses, and looks over uncertainly. “He did.”

“He did?” 

“Yeah.” Megumi’s voice is low. “He told me and said I’d regret it if I didn’t try to find you. I was a coward.” He turns the stove burner off and faces you. “I never stopped thinking about you. You were the best thing to ever happen to me. I still believe I’m not your equal, and I never will be. You were my home base. The single person holding my life together. How much more could I ask you to do?”

He joins you on the sofa, taking his son into his arms, rocking him softly as he starts to doze off. “I was so scared to ask you to forgive me. I felt like a hypocrite, reassuring you all these years that it’s ok to depend on me, and then taking that security away from you. I was the worst kind of asshole. But I knew I couldn’t be a deadbeat father. I looked for you. But you did such a good job covering up your tracks. Honestly, if the baby hadn’t summoned the divine dogs, I probably would have never caught on.”

The baby yawns and drifts off to sleep in his arms. Megumi stares at the little face, unable to forgive himself for what he almost missed out on.

“I want us to be all right. I want us to be a family. Can we?” He looks at you with doubt, knowing if you said no, it was well within your right.

You take the baby from his arms, carefully settling him down in the portable bassinet next to the sofa, and take Megumi’s face in between your hands.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice choking up. 

Megumi pulls you against him tightly. “I love you so much. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure to live up to being your equal.”

You nod, letting your tears flow freely.

“I love you too.”

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[eihoons]

kissing their cheek when they're mad ✮

enhypen x reader , fluff , kissing their cheek when they're mad ( note: lowercase intended , thank u so much for the notes omg 😭 )

❝ heeseung ❞

he got a little mad since you came home a bit late than usual, and you promised to give him cuddles but you said you were too sleepy

you knew he was upset and you told him you'd talk to him in the morning since you were tired

but, he still slept on the same bed, except he isn't hugging you like he would every night

he did feel sorry but tried to keep the frown on

when morning came, you woke up alone so you got up and tried to look for heeseung

as he noticed your presence, he tried his best to ignore you but deep inside he wanted to hug your small, sleepy, and soft-looking figure : (

you went towards him and gave him a small peck on his cheek

"good morning," you said, and as you recalled the events from last night you asked him, "are you still upset? i'm sorry,"

you gave him a hug, and he could never stay mad at you so he hugged you back and placed a soft kiss on your forehead

"no, i'm not mad, i love you,"

❝ jay ❞

jay was upset since you somehow forgot you had a special date yesterday, and he had been planning this for a while now but you forgetting this broke his heart :(

so, as a consequence, he ignored you the whole day and not even sparing you a glance

you tried to keep apologizing but he kept replying with it's fine or it's okay but his expression says otherwise

you also wanted to talk to him but you knew it would lead to another argument and you knew it was your fault this time

by now, it was already nighttime and you were getting ready for bed

you decided to wait on the bed for jay but minutes were turning into hours and you knew he was probably sleeping in the other room tonight

so, you got up and went to him because it felt cold without him

but the only reason he was sleeping in another room was because he was afraid of accidentally raising his voice on you again

you snuggled onto him and pecked his cheek and whispered, "i'm sorry, you can get mad at me in the morning but i need to be with you right now,"

and that kiss alone was enough for him to let his guard down and he knew he had to forgive you because he felt really bad so he finally wrapped you in his arms

❝ jake ❞

tbh i don't think he can ever stay mad at you

but in this case, he was mad because of how he disliked you being fine with a friend getting all touchy with you

and you thought he was just being a little too overprotective and this may have lead into an argument

so, you were both ignoring each other but you knew this was quite immature so you were thinking about talking about it with him, carefully this time

you then went to him but as soon as you were getting close, all those apologies just vanished and you didn't know how to approach him properly

instead, you just tugged on one of his sleeves and gave him a kiss on the cheek and tried to walk away out of embarrassment

but before you could even go, he tightly engulfed you in a hug

"i'm sorry, baby, i'm not mad, i– i just–"

you cut him off with a kiss and hugged him tightly

then, you both promised to not fight again because it literally breaks his heart and he fr cannot stay mad at you

❝ sunghoon ❞

you just came home and you were welcomed by a frowning sunghoon

you changed your clothes and prepared for dinner but you noticed that sunghoon was a little quiet

you were trying to talk to him but all he responds with is either a hum or a nod

you were annoyed with this behavior of his so you confronted him and asked why he was acting this way and why he was so mad with you

he scoffed, "so now you're asking me why, huh?"

"but i didn't even do anything wrong!"

a couple minutes later, this lead into a small argument

you both continued to ignore each other but you were feeling sleepy

you were deciding whether or not to say good night to him but you couldn't resist him

so you went to him and kissed him on the cheek and told him good night but before you went away you turned to him once again and asked what have you done to upset him this much

so he finally answered, "why didn't you say you love me this morning, before you left,"

but he was too shy and embarrassed to look at you while saying this, and a blush was evident on his cheeks

you found it adorable and you pulled him in a hug and said, "sunghoon, you know i love you so much but although i forgot to say it, i hope you know that i always will love you, okay?"

he finally embraced you and gave you a kiss

❝ sunoo ❞

according to him you were being "annoying" today

so, he slowly avoided you and ignored you, but this will not stop you >:)

you went to him and he avoided your gaze

"sunoo, when will this stop, i already apologized,"

"just go away,"

having enough, you held onto his waist and pecked his cheek

he loved it but didn't admit it and a blush grew on his cheeks

you thought he hated it so you turned away

but, before you could even walk, he pulled your arm back and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek

"okay, i'm sorry too, i love you."

❝ jungwon ❞

he can never stay mad at you

you realized he was mad so you tried to give him some space and wait until he's ready to talk

but he wanted things to go the other way, he wanted you to talk to him and just give him a hug or a kiss; basically just pay him attention

he was so sad because he thought you were scared of talking to him

you two met in the kitchen, yet still no talking

you wanted to comfort him but you were too scared of the wrong words that might come out

instead, you gave him a peck on the cheek and a soft smile

he immediately pulled you into a hug because he felt really bad

"i'm sorry, i'm not mad. please talk to me now."

❝ ni-ki ❞

he was so pissed because he thought you were cheating on a game you were playing together

but you, on the other hand, found it funny because he simply could not accept his defeat

and, because of this, he got all mad and decided to ignore you

you were now sad and decided to approach him for the last time

"hey, are you really gonna ignore me for the rest of the day?"

still not getting an answer, you pecked his cheek and said, "i'll be in the room if you need me, okay?"

he tried to keep an "angry" face

he felt so bad seeing the frown on your face

not even an hour later, he entered the room holding two controllers in his hand

"i'm really sorry, y/n. can we play again and be fair this time? and.. can i have a kiss again?"

© eihoons

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