#just one letter off from sobs

[chillisreal]

The final chapter for Stay And Be Safe came out recently and I was so scared, but lost pulled through!

In all truth, if you're a Stag Beetles and Broken Legs enjoyer in terms of how the story moved along and how the interactions went, then I recommend reading this as well! There's angst, wholesomeness, comedy, confusion, and various other feelings that I just can't identify at the moment. That's how good this is!!!

@ hollowknightnerd is the author of Stay and be safe by the way! They're super cool :)

[jackass-jones]

The best feeling in the world is when there’s a piece of media you know you love and you’ve hyped it up as your favorite thing for so long but you haven’t revisited it in a while so you start to worry if it’s really as good as you make it out to be and so you go back and revisit it and it’s like. Oh this is even better than I remembered this shit rules

[g4rvez-r3id]

I’m Here, Now

Post Prison! Spencer Reid x Girlfriend!Fem Reader

Synopsis: Your boyfriend, Spencer gets released from prison and you’re his first stop after dealing with Cat Adams and her schemes. And all he wants to do is see you and love you.

Category: Smut, Fluff

Warnings: 18+ MDNI established relationship, prison arc, spoilers of season 12 of Criminal Minds, it’s a lil sad tbh but it only lasts for a second, reader’s in disbelief, spencer and reader being cutesy, crying, kissing, mentions of bruises, threats, sappy speeches, fluffy ending, lowkey not true to 12x22/13x01 so this could be an au! smut warnings: soft!dom spencer (firm believer here🙋‍♀️), a lil body worship from reader to spencer, oral sex (m receiving & reader receiving), facefucking, cum swallowing, “good girl”, riding, unprotected sex, mentions of masturbation, creampie, overstimulation, spencer lowkey being a munch- that should cover it 😃

Author’s Note: hey lovelies, i can’t stop writing smutty oneshots ahhhh i can’t help it, i just love my man 🤭 i hope y’all enjoy this because i’ve had my mind on prison arc reid bc i’m watching s12 rn and oooo he so fine in 12a and in 12b 😩 anyways hope y’all like this <3

You worried that maybe he’d never come back. Upon hearing he was in jail in Mexico, you worried you’d never see Spencer again.

If your past self could tell you that your boyfriend, Dr. Spencer Reid, who was a nerd at heart, who spent his free time playing chess and reading and watching Doctor Who with you under your fluffy blankets and wore mismatched socks because he believed it was good luck, that he would one day end up being framed and sent to prison, you would’ve laughed in your face.

You never would’ve expected this to happen. But then you heard why. He was framed for murdering a woman named Nadie Ramos, who was helping him get his mother medicine that seemed to calm her from her episodes. If there was anyone he would’ve risked everything for besides you, it was his mother.

And to be honest, you were a little mad at him for lying to you. He told you that he was going to Houston to talk to some of his mom’s doctors. You’d been together four years now and not once did he ever lie to you until now. When he got transferred to the Milburn Correctional Facility, due to overcrowding, he’d requested to see you and only you.

It wasn’t until Spencer wrote you a letter, practically begging you to come and see you. The first time you’d gone to see him, you actually didn’t even recognize him, skipping over him and almost staring at him in confusion when he walked over to the other side of your plexiglass.

And you tried to play it off like you expected him, even while looking like he did, but he knew deep down you didn’t recognize him. He chose not to acknowledge it but you both knew.

And you visited him frequently, until he decided to cut you from the visitor log with no warning. You were hurt, to say the least. And you ended up avoiding everyone after that. You even ignored the many fruit baskets Garcia kept sending over but you kept sending them back.

But then a miracle happened.

They proved his innocence. And he was out.

You would’ve found that out if you’d checked your phone but you spent the entire day in bed, away from society and sobbing at the fact that he was gone and he wasn’t here, comforting you like he did so well.

You hated him, you hated him for putting you in this position, for making you deal with the aftermath, for pushing you away. But you loved him. You would never stop loving him, no matter how much you hated him right now.

You’d been laying in bed, tossing and turning all day as the TV played some random sitcom you watched every now and again. And you’d heard something. A soft knock coming from your front door.

You almost missed it but it was faint. And you heard it. Choosing to finally get out of bed, you opened your room door and walked to the front door. You opened it without checking the peephole, because at this point you’d had enough and just wanted death to get you over with already.

But death may have stopped your heart only for a moment when you open the door.

Because standing there, in the suit he’d gotten arrested in when his bail was denied, his hair outgrown and his stubble framed nicely on his face — was your boyfriend, Spencer Reid, in the flesh.

You gasped softly as you backed away from the door and stared at him, almost as if you were disbelief. You’d had a dream like this before. Where he came back and promised he was here to stay. (But it was another one of God’s cruel jokes and you cried when you woke up the following day).

He walked in and closed the door right behind him, standing tall in front of you. You noticed the bruises on his face, how his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and stared at you.

“Hi.” He said softly and all you can do is stare at him. “Am I dreaming?” You find yourself asking out loud and his heart breaks. He can see that you’re scared. Scared that if you go up to him, he’ll disappear like smoke. And he hates that.

“No.” Spencer shakes his head and he waits for you to approach him and you do, walking slowly towards him as the floorboard creaks beneath your socked feet.

He waits as you first grab his hands, and interlock your fingers together. When that seems not to be enough for you, your hands move to his face. You caress the sharp new grown stubble on his face and drag your index finger to his plump lips and stare into his hazel eyes and they’re full of wonder and love.

You don’t even register the tears until you hold him in your arms and you hold onto him for dear life. He holds you tightly in his arms as you find yourself wrapping around him like a koala and all he can do is hold you back. And it grounds him, you ground him.

Your head moves towards his and you kiss his lips, like you’ve longed to do for three months. And part of you still couldn’t believe this, that he was here, holding you like you were going to break.

You kiss him a few more times before you pull back and ask with tears in your eyes, “Are you okay?” Spencer nods toward your forehead, “I’m okay, now that I’m here.”

“You’re here, now.” You look him in the eyes as you say this and he nods at your words, repeating them to himself. “I’m here, now.” It’s as if he’s reminding himself that he’s here with you because he’s worried he’s gonna wake up any minute and he’ll be back in that cell. You weren’t the only one who had a hard time believing this was real.

Spencer’s lips catch yours and he pushes into the kiss and you get back on the ground, your hands (or mouth) not leaving him for a second and making their way up to his hair and pulling. You whine into his lips as he you pull him by his belt and walk backwards to your bedroom with him following you.

With your strength, you twirl the two of you around and straddle him as you continue to kiss him. You rock your hips into his growing bulge and he moans into your mouth and you smirk in the middle of the kiss.

You begin to unbutton his suit and successfully get his blazer off and now next is his dress shirt but he’s quick to grab your hands and you look at him with wide eyes.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” You ask, willing to put a stop to this if he wasn’t ready. “Nothing, I just…” Spencer looks down as he lets go of your hands and seemingly now growing insecure all of a sudden.

He stands up from the bed and you look up at him as he holds his arms over his stomach. “I just… I got hurt pretty bad in there. You’re gonna see some bruises. I just don’t want you to freak out. He admits and your heart breaks, “You don’t have to take your shirt off. Or we can just stop entirely and—”

Spencer shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. You’re gonna see them eventually.” With that, he begins to unbutton his dress shirt and you give him all the time in the world to do so, not wanting to rush this at all.

When he takes off his dress shirt successfully, you finally see it. He has bruises everywhere on his ribs and some near his belly button and on his stomach. Some are still in the process of healing with yellow and gray hues and some are purple and mucus green.

“Oh, my love…” You whisper to yourself as you stand up and you turns him around and find more on his back and there’s just too many of them. You find yourself tearing up but you know you need to keep it together for him. Who could hurt your sweet boy? Was this why he didn’t want you to see him anymore while he was still in there? How long did this go on for?

It’s then that you register the bruise near his eye. You thought that it was due to the lack of sleep he’d been getting and assumed it was the bags under his eyes he so often got but it was a bruise. How did you miss that when he walked in?

He almost wants to hide himself, like a turtle under its’ shell and you look down at his body. “Baby…” You start but he shakes his head. “I’m so sorry.”

He looks at you as you guide him towards the bed and he lays back and you go back to straddling him, but this time, you’re careful as you hover over him.

You kiss his lips before making your way down to his neck and then to his body and it takes a second for him to register that you’re not just kissing his body, you’re kissing the bruises.

He feels himself getting choked up as you kiss every visible one and his heart swells for you. What did he did to deserve you?

You begin to unbuckle his belt but he rests his elbows on the bed and looks down at you. “You—You don’t have to…” He trails off but you quickly shake your head. “I know. But I want to. It’s your first night back. This is about you tonight, baby.”

Spencer doesn’t interfere, just stares as you unbuckle his belt and pull out his cock through the hole in his underwear and it springs into action, dripping pre-cum from the head. “Oh, my sweet boy. You must be so pent up.”

You kiss the tip of his dick and he shuts his eyes tightly as if he’s trying to hold back from already cumming. You lick up his shaft and fit his cock inside your mouth and he curses to himself as he grips your bedsheets as tight as he can.

You notice this, grabbing his hand and interlocking your fingers together, as if you’re telling him and giving him permission to touch you as you bob your head up and down.

He takes this opportunity to caress your face as you take him into your mouth. He ties your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he pushes deeper onto his cock and even lifts his hips to ensure that you’re taking all of him until you’re gagging.

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” Spencer tells you and you nod to the best of your ability until you begins to fuck your throat, using your mouth for his pent up pleasure. “Fuck… God, you’re so good at that. Letting me fuck your throat like the good girl you are.”

His words could make you cum on the spot without him even laying a finger on you. He rarely cursed in your domestic setting but he did it often when you two were in bed.

All you can do is take it as deep as it can go in your mouth. He whines into the ceiling as he says your name until you feel his hot cum dribble down your throat and your nose is buried into his crotch as he holds you there and makes you take all his cum into your mouth.

He pants as he releases your head from his cock and you swallow the rest of his cum. He looks at you with worried eyes, concerned that maybe he’d gone too far. “I’m sorry, baby. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He asks, like he didn’t just cum into your mouth and call you a “good girl”.

You shake your head at him with a small smile. “That was just about the hottest thing you’ve ever done.” (And everything he did was always hot). He blushes and crooks a smile.

“Are you willing to keep going?” You ask him and he nods with an immediate answer, “Absolutely.” He’d never let you go to bed without making you cum at least twice.

You climb on top of him with a smirk and look deeply into his eyes. They’re filled with lust, love and adoration for you and for you only. “You’re so beautiful.” You say to him in a whisper but Spencer chuckles a bit, “I should be saying that to you.”

You look down as your pussy catches the tip of his cock and you sink down into him carefully. He moans at the feeling and you gasp. He fits perfectly.

“God, I missed you. Missed this…” Spencer catches his breath. “Perfect pussy.” You chuckle and looks into his eyes as you rock back and forth. “It was so lonely without you, Spencer.” You whine. “I missed you so much.”

You lean down as you kiss him on the lips. “Did you…” He pauses, not wanting to be crude even while he was inside of you. “While I was away?” It took a second to figure out what he was talking about. And then you realized that he was asking if you’d masturbated while he was away.

“A few times,” You admitted shyly, despite suffocating him with your pussy. “I thought about you every time. It just wasn’t the same. Missed your body.”

Spencer smiles darkly, “Maybe I should punish you for that.” He says, half-joking. You lean forward as you smirk, “I’d like to see you try.”

And without a second thought, it was as if a switch flipped as Spencer was quick to flip your bodies over and he hovers over you, both hands on either side of your head, gripping the pillows. “You really wanna test that theory?”

You bite your lip and smirk once more as you pull him in for another kiss and he glides himself into you and you gasp at the feeling of his dick inside of your pussy. It’d been such a long time since you felt him like this, here, in your arms. God, you love him.

He rocks his hips, thrusting deeply into your body as leans his head in your shoulder, mumbling sweet obscenities and how good your pussy feels and how responsive you were. He dreamt of the day he’d have you like this. And since being in prison, he longed for it more.

He reached down in between your legs as he found your clit without even looking down and staring deeply into your eyes and your moans reverberate through the walls as keeps his eyes on you and you only.

“Baby, I’m sorry, I need to cum— where? Where?” He asks and you shut your eyes tightly as you shout, “Inside! Oh, god, inside!”

He pushes himself hard into you as you finally cum, your legs shaking as you moan his name into the ceiling and he collapses on your body, still sheathed inside of you.

You both lay there, panting and reveling in the feeling of each other. Eventually, Spencer does pull out of you and you feel as he lowers himself, eyeing your pussy up close and you look down at him sleepily. “Baby, you don’t have to. This was about you.” You assure.

“Nonsense,” Spencer tells. “I need to clean up my mess and even the score, might as well kill two birds with one stone.” He jokes, diving face first into your pussy and you whimper at the contact he makes, especially with the way his stubble is rubbing against your thighs, cleaning his own cum out of your pussy and relishing in the way you both taste.

His mouth captures your clit and he twists his tongue around the bud in that delicious way you love and he moans into your pussy. “We taste so good together, baby. Cum again on my tongue, this time.”

You tug at his messy hair as you hold his head to you pussy and you use him, rocking your hips into his mouth. You feel as your legs shake once more and you let go of his head for him to take a breather.

That breather lasts only a second before he dives back in and you whine at the contact. “Spence… baby, I’m sen—sensitive.”

“You can take one more, baby. I know you can. You can cum again.” Spencer says, his pupils are blown as he looks at you and he’s commanding you to cum again. “Just one more, baby.”

You nod at him and Spencer grabs your hands. “Here,” He interlocks your fingers with his and somehow, the pleasure is so much and yet not at all as makes you cum for a third time tonight. If he could spend forever eating your pussy, he would.

You close your eyes for a moment and when you finally open them, he’s right next to you and holding you. (He’d cleaned you up properly with a warm rag and left your favorite snack and water bottle on the desk next to your bed whenever you were ready to wake up). You remembered the loving words he whispered to you as you drifted off into a heavy slumber.

And you’ve finally woken up. You look up at him, still in awe of him being here. You take the chance to check the time. It’s already 5am and the sun is still shy away from rising but it doesn’t matter. None of it matters because you have your boyfriend right next to you, holding you for dear life and loving you the way you deserve to be loved.

You worry that he’s still up, but you figure that after all those months in prison, maybe he has trouble sleeping every now and again. You find yourself holding him tighter as you look down at the bruise near your head. You can’t believe he was hurt. How did he manage to survive in there? You’re still wondering why he’d taken you off the visitor’s log.

“Spencer?” You ask and he looks down at you, your voice surprising him. “Yeah?” You sit up and look at him, face to face, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Why did you take me off the visitor’s list?” You decide to ask.

He’s about to respond and you don’t want to hear another lie. You’d been through plenty of those already. “I mean, I didn’t even want to see you at first and then you begged me to and then all of a sudden, I wasn’t allowed to. I feel like I have the right to know.”

“No, no, you do,” Spencer knows that much. He hates the fact that he’s lied to you and has forced you to deal with this when all you deserved was the best from him. He sits up next to you he knows he’s gonna need to tell you, even though he doesn’t want to.

“The last time after you came to visit me,” Spencer started. “I got cornered in my cell. A lot of the guys there were asking about you. And they said that it’d be a shame if something happened to you when you came to visit again.” You look down as he talks about it. “And I didn’t want to risk that. And I wanted to tell you, really, I did.” He grabs your hand assuringly. “But I didn’t have any way to. And I didn’t want you to get hurt. I would’ve died if something happened to you and I didn’t do everything in my power to stop it. I’m sorry it went down like it did.”

You shake your head. And you finally understand. Because if the roles were reversed, you would’ve taken him off the visitor’s list, too. If it meant protecting him. “You were just trying to protect me, I understand.”

“I just…” Spencer looks at you, holding your face in his hands. “I love you, so much.” He looks deeply into your eyes. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He reveals and your eyes widen. “What?”

Spencer closes his eyes and holds his index finger up. “One second.” He stands up and grabs his blazer from off the floor and digs into one of the inside pockets and pulls out a red velvet box.

Your eyes widen as you cover your body with the sheet and he kneels down on one knee in his boxers and opens the velvet box to reveal a ring. “I didn’t want to do it like this but I’d rather do it now than wait for the right time to.” Your eyes glance down at the box for a mere second and then to the love of your life.

“I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You make my days better, hell, you’ve made my life better. And no matter what we’ve gone through, you’ve stayed by my side and you never ran. I love that you sing off-key, I love that your nose twitches when you get mad, I love that you like… pineapple on pizza, oddly enough.” You chuckle at this. “I love everything about you. And I have no idea what I’ve done to deserve you. But… but true love, it fosters a connection that goes beyond the superficial. It's a bond that often involves understanding each other's core values, beliefs, and life goals. And you’ve made me believe in true love.“

You stare at him in disbelief as he continues, “Will you marry me?” You feel tears spring into your eyes as you nod vehemently, “Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!” You smile widely and he smiles at you, slipping the ring onto your ring finger as you continue to mutter a million yeses.

When you finally get the ring on, you pull him in for another kiss and he holds you to his heart’s content. It wasn’t the way he envisioned it going, but with you, you knew you didn’t want big and bold ways of him saying he loved you and wanted to marry you, you were content with something small and sweet because it was coming from him and that was the biggest gift of all. You were one for grand gestures, you liked it just the way it was. It was perfect. He was perfect. And you’d spend the rest of your life reminding him he was.

So, you laid back in your bed with your fiancé and talked and talked about sweet nothings until the sun came up. And all of the ache you felt the night before, the pain you endured was long gone and now replaced with something beautiful and sweet.

[macmillerxluvr]

♪ - i can feel the way you feel for me this is my playpen borderline thinking like barbie baby can you play ken?

SUGAR DADDY KENJI SATO

HEAD CANNONS

• kenji buys you a gold diamond chain with the letter k bold and center so when he’s taking you your tits are bouncing with the chain, marking you as his further more along with the amount of hickeys that he leaves all around your body

• he always provides you with the best of everything and regularly sends you cash through you phone typically sending you a message for you to buy something sexy for him to rip off later that night

• there’s an obvious age gap between you both but kenji doesn’t seem to mind that fact that you’re younger than him since he is only 26 and a 7 year age gap isn’t necessarily the worst, and he definitely doesn’t seem to mind when he’s impaling you with his 9 inch dick

• he insist on cumming in you, every time you guys fuck he always make sure that every last drop of his seed is inside your fucked pussy by continuously thrusting it into you even after climaxing

• the first time you both had sex together he was not even half way inside of you before you were telling him how much it hurts and that he’s too big, so he simply chuckled before sliding himself fully in making you screech as he pierced inside your throbbing cunt

• every 2 weeks he sends you cash for you to get you nails and feet done, on the condition that the nude base color is the color of his tip or his initial is somewhere on your nail

• you’ve both at least broken 3 beds in total from kenji thrusting and pounding into you so vigorously

• doesn’t matter when doesn’t matter where kenji is fucking you wherever and whenever, the shower? done it multiple times, the driveway? loud and proud, he owns the land around it and no neighbors for miles, his office? doggy style on the desk and chair with cum everywhere and at midnight? sometimes he gets home late and just want to snuggle his dick deep in your warm asleep cunt, so he does

• even though he insists there’s nothing of a relationship sorts going on between you both, he still damn well makes you be at every single one of his games cheering him on and after sucking him off as well as a reward for winning

• he will supply you with infinite amount of plane b’s or get you on birth control (for now before he decides to bby trap you)

• if it weren’t for him living so far away and alone the police would probably pull up for noises complaint because of how loud your moans and chanting are as he fucks you silly into the mattress

• will either punish you buy fingering the fuck out of consistency and stopping before you can cum or tucking a large vibrator inside your pussy on the highest mode and forcing you to not cum till your sobbing begging to be able to cum

• anything you want kenji can give it to you in a blink of an eye, as long as your eyes stay on him and not closed as he plows roughly inside of you making you grip onto the cum stained black silk bedsheets

• other than his clear breeding kink he also has a size kink, so when he’s thrusting inside you or in missionary what seems to mostly send the both of you over the edge is him pressing on the tummy bulge inside of you that his large cock created

• when in public sometimes he just has to relieve himself inside of you so he usually pulls you to the bathroom and rolls your panties to the side as you try not to squirm as he forces himself inside your pulsating pussy

• at first it took a while for you to get used to kenji length but now your pussys grown tolerant the pain for the pleasure as he fills you up till the very brim with his dick

• sometimes when he truly wants to savor you without you stopping him, he ties your hands up on headboard and legs tied up to either side of the bed and eats you out till your moans and screams are heard by all of tokyo and fucks you up til as many rounds as he can milk himself out in, or till your legs are shaking (which is mostly after the 5 round)

• when he bought you the car that you kept on talking about the first thing he did once he bought it was fuck you mercilessly in the back seats to claim you inside of it before anyone else enters it

• rarely but occasionally he’s sub and he’s in utter agony not being able to touch you as his hands are now tied along with his legs as you ride him til you both see stars but with every little moan or noise you make it’s all heard by him along with the sound of your thighs clashing together and the wet sounds your pussy makes, being like music to his ears making it seemingly worth it

• he often surprises you with trips and to fancy suites and airbnb’s where you’ll both just end up fucking all throughout the trip

• he makes you suck his cock til he’s at least cummed 3 times or til tears are flowing down your eyes, drools slipping out your mouth and til he hears you gag which is given on the girth and thickness of his dick

• kenji as well bought you your own huge penthouse (though you could’ve easily bought yourself considering you were a well known model) in which he installed a soundproof barrier around so when you guys have sex it’s aloud as you’d both like without causing issues

• whenever your around him he requires you to wear skirts for easy access so at any given moment he can simply slip your black lacy little panties from inside you mini skirt down your pedicured legs easily giving him your pretty little cunt out on display for him to toy and fuck with

[chunghasweetie]

Haiii i've never submitted a request so bare with me.

What do you think about a criminal jk who's been in prison for over a year (don't know what crime u can pick honestly) him and y/n are in a established relationship and she's been waiting all this time for him to get out. Anyway he comes home and yk.. i'm sure you can get the rest ;)

𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐘 | J.JK

— pairing | fem!oc x criminal!jjk

— summary | (sorry it took so long!🩷) jungkook’s been locked up for 4 years and he’s finally back to see you !

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

unprotected sex, cursing, praising, daddy kink, dirty talk, crying, fluff(?)

— word count | 3.5k words

— song suggestion | wrong in the right way — chris brown

It was his first night freed from his 4 year jail sentence. After having a buddy drop off his car on the way to her, he was finally there.

Locked up for assault and battery and countless other charges he was finally free and finally able to see his woman again.

His tatted, muscular body stood at her doorstep, “Fuck,” He exhaled, taking a drag from his cigarette.

He was anxious to see her after endless phone calls and letters for years. He surprised her a day early. He finally stopped thinking about it and knocked at her door.

“Coming!” She hurried down the stairs, not expecting any guests at that hour.

She was in her pajama outfit, hair lightly curled and her face bare beside some eye brightener.

She opened the door, and she had almost gone into shock.

She came to a full body pause, color practically draining from her face when she seen him. “J-Jungkook!”

Jungkook's eyes softened at the sight of her, seeing the tears. He stepped forward, grabbing her in a tight embrace.

“I missed you so fucking much Y/n.” He mumbled into her hair. His hands ran up and down her back, holding her close.

She sobbed, “You bastard! Why didn’t you let me know you got out early?! I would’ve picked you up, done my makeup better, took you to dinner—“ She rambled.

Jungkook pulled back, gazing down at her with a smirk.

“Because I wanted to surprise you, Y/n. And you look fucking perfect just like this.” He ran his hand through her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. “Finally face to face with my queen.”

“Fucking come in.” She sniffed. “All standing here in my doorway.” She hurried him in.

Jungkook stepped inside, his eyes scanning the apartment.

It looked a lot different than what he had remembered. It was a lot more modern and a bit girly. But it still felt like home.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume. He followed her to the living room, his eyes locked on her as she walked away from him. He couldn't help but grin.

He was finally home.

“Missed you so much” She sniffed. “I didn’t fucking plan anything— Shit. You gotta be hungry right? Are you cold?”

“Relax baby. I didn’t expect you to be completely ready tonight,” He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her close to him.

“But yes, I am fucking starving. Even thought I just wanna sit here and hold you.” He nuzzled his face into her neck, breathing in her scent.

“No baby— Gotta take care of you first. Probably want to eat good. Prison must’ve been so rough.” She pouted, babying him.

“Yeah, it was. But nothing's worse than being away from you, ma. You know that, right?” He pulled away from her, turning her around to face him.

He cupped her cheeks, his thumbs rubbing against her soft skin. “I missed your smile, your laugh, your attitude. Everything Y/n.”

“I missed you more than you could imagine Jungkook.” Her lip quivered. “So much.”

“I know, ma. You always made sure I know. You were always the one person I could count on, even behind bars.” He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers.

The kiss was soft and gentle, but it held a depth of passion that only they could understood. “I love you.”

“I love you more. So much more.” She kissed him back, “I’ll cook for you. I’ll show you to our room— I fixed it up for you!”

She led him upstairs, rushing him due to her excitement. “Are you ready to see it?”

“I'm more than ready, ma. I've been dreaming of this moment for so long. I've missed our bed, our room, all of it."

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "You look stunning, ma. You've never looked more beautiful to me."

Their room looked more homey and relaxing. She bought him a whole new closet full of clothes and shoes to his liking.

“I bought you some new ashtrays to put on your nightstand.” She told him. “There’s some lighters down there too.”

“You're spoiling me. And I’m more than grateful. I can already smell the smoke wafting through the air. You know me more than anyone." He grinned, running his hand over the new clothes.

"I love what you've done here, ma. You really outdid yourself for me and I couldn’t thank you more.” He added, thanking her once more.

“Anyrhing for you. I wanted you to come home and feel comfortable and relaxed.” She smiled.

“Now go shower, change, whatever you need to do to get all that prison time off your skin.” She laughed. “I’m gonna go downstairs and cook you some food that’ll knock you the hell out.”

Jungkook smiled, pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. "You're the best, ma. I love you so fucking much." He whispered, giving her earlobe a gentle kiss before pulling away. "I'll be down in a few.”

“Take your time baby. Really.” She pecked his cheek, hesitant to leave him while she walked down to the kitchen.

Jungkook grabbed her hand before she could walk away, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss.

"Thank you again baby— Seriously." He gave her a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand gently.

She left him and headed back downstairs, prepping dinner for him.

“I’ll miss you!” She called out from the kitchen, blushing and giggling in excitement.

She couldn’t believe he was really out of prison.

For years she spent everyday fantasizing and day dreaming about him finally living at home again. For him to actually be here was ground breaking.

She had devoted herself to that man the entire time he’d been away. Her friends would try to encourage her to see other men to fill in the gaps of his absence but she absolutely refused.

She had many opportunities. She was a beautiful woman.

But no other man could ever compare to Jungkook.

She started preparing a quick yet savory meal for them to eat while he was showering.

She had prepped wonton soup for the actual night of his arrival but she had enough ingredients to make it for him tonight.

Jungkook was upstairs. He stripped down to his white tank, revealing his well-built, tattooed body.

He smirked at himself in the mirror, satisfied with how much he had grown during his time.

He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature to his liking before stepping in.

After scrubbing and shaving after what felt like forever, Jungkook hummed to himself as he stepped out the shower, feeling refreshed and anew.

He dried himself up before wrapping the towel around his waist, he stepped into the kitchen where his girl was. “Smells amazing baby, what is it?" He kissed her cheek, leaning on the counter.

“I made a homemade wonton soup with a side of rice.” She smiled, “You look clean. Someone’s already comfy back home.”

Jungkook chuckled, “With everything you’ve done, you made it easy.” He grinned as his stomach growled, looking down at himself.

“Go put some clothes on and dry your hair. You’re gonna get sick. I laid out clothes on the bed.” She instructed. “Use my hairdryer in the bathroom. Should be hung up in the bathroom.”

She took care of him and she tried his best to always pamper him. "Yes ma'am." He smiled, standing up and giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. "I'll be right back, baby."

Jungkook went back to the bathroom and dried his hair then put on the clothes she laid out for him.

He took a look at himself in the mirror and smiled. He had been evaluating their home since he arrived, she had really good taste.

He walked back into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her neck and inhaling her scent once more.


Couldn’t get enough.

“So much better huh baby?” She hummed, lost in his embrace.

“Definitely, baby. You always make me better." Jungkook whispered in her ear before giving her a soft and lingering kiss.

He reached for the food she was cooking, but she stopped him. “No. I’ll serve you. Go sit down.”

“Body” He obliged, not able to help it but steal another kiss before sitting down to eat with her. "This smells amazing, love."

She served him his soup along with a cup of jasmine hot tea.

She placed his bowl and cup on his side of the table. She served herself after him, sitting across from him. “Let me know if you like it. Too hot, too cold, too spicy, too salty. Anything like that.”

Jungkook blew on his soup before taking a spoon full, burning his tongue a little bit but he didn't care.

He was just desperate for a home cooked meal.

"This is so fucking good, Y/n… like really fucking good." He glanced up at her, giving her a little smirk before taking another bite.

“I’m not just saying that either.” He munched, lost in the taste of his food.

She laughed, “Glad you’ like it.” She enjoyed her soup across from him.

Jungkook finished his soup, but didn't finish his whole bowl of rice.

He sat back and took a sip of his tea. "So how was your day today? Besides making me the best fucking soup I've ever had?"

“I just spent today prepping for you to get here. Cleaned all day.” She exhaled.

“Was the rice not cooked right? You didn’t finish.” She looked at him, concerned a bit at his action.

Jungkook shook his head. "The rice is fine, love. It's just not my favorite thing to eat."

He took another sip of his tea and reached under the table, squeezing her knee. "It’s all I ever ate when I was in there— not really my favorite at the moment."

“Oh my gosh!” Her eyes widened, “I wasn’t even thinking!”

“Baby you make rice with every meal. It’s like muscle memory for you.” He chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. You’re too cute to worry.”

“It’s my man’s first night home from prison. Of course your opinion matters to me.” She sighed.

Jungkook smiled at her and looked down at his empty bowl. He reached for her hand and glanced back up at her. "You don't have to care about anything when it comes to me. I’m amazed by everything you do.”

“Mm so sweet.” She blushed, “Go relax.” She seized their bowls, washing them in the sink.

Jungkook laughed, "I just want to make sure you're happy too. Wouldn’t want my baby like that in her own house" He stood, slowly making his way around the kitchen island.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and moved his lips to her neck, giving her a soft kiss. "Smell so good baby. Can’t get away from you.”

She blushed at the close proximity, continuing the dishes.

Jungkook pulled away from her neck, his eyes glancing over her face. He enjoyed seeing her blush more than he thought he did.

"What's going on in your head? You can tell me you know." He leaned against the counter, watching her intently.

“Nothing.” She shrugged. “I’m just happy you’re here. More than happy I’m just— thankful.”

She started getting emotional, blinking back tears. “I just thought— I thought you’d have to stay longer.”

Jungkook walked towards her, his finger pushed her chin up, making her look at him.

"Don't cry on me now, damn baby. Making me feel guilty.” He wipes away a tear that fell down her cheek with his thumb. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

“Sorry sorry” She apologized, fanning herself.

Jungkook smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead, moving her to clear her teary eyes. "Don't apologize for showing your emotions to me. I love how much you care for me."

“You smell so good too.” She hummed against him. “Better than that nasty fresh out of prison smell.” She laughed.

Jungkook grins, sniffing himself to remind her of the smell she meant, his arms squeezing around her. "If you thought it smelled bad..."

He kisses her cheek, “Imagine when I wasn't this clean for four years.” He teased, laughing.

“Ewww.” She giggled, “I’m okay not thinking about that.”

Jungkook chuckles, pulling back to look at her, cupping her cheek and wiping away loose tears with his thumb. "You're so cute."

He was laughing again. "Y/n, I missed you... I really fucking missed you. I don’t care how many times I told you tonight.”

“I missed you too Jungkook— Writing and calling you definitely isn’t as good as having you here at home with me.” She admitted.

Jungkook smiles, his eyes bright with happiness. "Yeah, I know... I fucking hated the phone. But-" He takes her hand in his.

"Being here now, being able to show up in the morning and see you again and again will make up for it all." He flashes her a wide grin.

“Four years was such a long time.” She groaned, walking out from the kitchen and walking up to their bedroom.

Jungkook nods and follows her, watching her hips sway as his thoughts drift to more primal thoughts.

He felt bad for wanting to get straight to it. But she had been teasing him in those

"It was. But hey-" He says from behind her. He wraps arms around her mid-section. "I'm here now. Should we get to it? Break our bed in together?"

“Oh my gosh you’re so annoying” She smacks his arm, “Go put on a movie while I change. You’re gonna be scrolling for a minute. I’ll be back.”

Jungkook laughs and lets go, jumping onto the bed. He grabbed the remote off the nightstand, surfing through the different streaming services.

He hadn’t seen anything like this in quite some time, but he already knew what he was looking for. She was definitely wrong about him scrolling for a minute.

She changed into a pajama set, being sure to show off a bit by leaving some buttons undone.

She knew what was gonna go down tonight, she just wanted him to wait for it.

She made her way back to the bed, resting her body beside him closely. “What’re we watching?”

“Starting tonight we’re gonna watch every Marvel movie made since I got locked up.”

“Are you serious?” She groaned. “That’s an insane amount of movies.”

“But,” He pouted cutely. “Your baby has been locked up for sooo long.”

“I hate you.”

He wraps arms around her mid-section, resting his head on her waist. "You know you love me, ma... and I sure as fuck love you."

“I love you more” She laughed and pecked his lips, playing with his hair as they watched the first movie together.

Jungkook hums in contentment, closing his eyes and letting her play with his hair.

Throughout the movie, Jungkook couldn’t help but grow more and more desperate.

He was on edge for the past few months. In prison they called and wrote letters but recently her letters had been more

Seductive.

Letters that consisted wordy details of her burning desire and unstoppable urge to have him.

“One more? Please? Last time really.” He pleaded.

“Fine.” She pecked his lips.

A few minutes later.

“Please?”

“Okay.” She pecked his lips.

More minutes go by.

“One more? Last time really.”

“Ugh fine.” She groaned, pecking his lips once more.

“Fuck I can’t take it." He groans as she pecks his lips, unable to help but leaning in and making out with her as their movie plays in the background.

“Don’t know how you expected this to go when you look like this.” He mumbled against her lips, mouth getting messier. “Wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Need to make love to you since you got locked up” Her kisses grew more demanding.

Jungkook flips them over, pinning her down onto the bed and kissing her harder in return. "I needed you to fuckin' kiss me that hard when I was locked up.”

His hips buck up against hers, grinding his hardened cock against her thighs. “Dreamt about this every fuckin’ night.”

“I know baby fuck— me too” She grunted.

Jungkook reaches over to unbutton her pajama pants, before sliding them down her legs slowly— trailing kisses down her thighs as he does. "Take 'em off, baby. I wanna see how fuckin' wet you are for me already."

“Wanted dick since you got locked up— Been wet since you got released.” She couldn’t help the bashful expression all over her.

Yeah?" Jungkook grins, slipping his fingers underneath her panties and teasingly spreading her lower lips, his fingers slipping and teasing over her clit. "And how wet are you actually baby?"

“Fuck” She could cum at the contact alone. “S-So wet.”

Jungkook snickers, slipping a finger deep inside of her and pumping it in and out slowly, moaning at the tight and hot feeling around his fingers. "Fuckin' wet and tight girl hm? Huh baby?"

“F-Feels good daddy” The sensual nickname slipped from her lips, making his ears ring at the sweet sensation of her voice.

Jungkook groans at that nickname, thrusting his finger in and out of her faster now. "Shiiit, baby, you know I love it when you call me that."

He then pulls his fingers out, sucking them clean. “Love the way you taste. Needed that for years.”

“C-Can’t take it” She whimpered at the feeling of his retracting fingers.

Maybe it had been too long for her. By herself it took a good amount of work for her to get off but this was ruining her in seconds.

Jungkook smirks at that, pulling his pants down, his already hard length flopping out. "You’re gonna take it good baby?”

“Daddy please—“

“Is that all you got?" Jungkook taunts, teasing her entrance with his tip. "Beg some more, or you ain't getting this dick."

His dominant and demanding voice was coming back into play, almost better than what she remembered.

“Want it so bad. I’ll take it good, I promise.” Her voice cried, “So desperate.”

Jungkook groans at her begging, slowly pushing inside her. "Mmm fuck— so damn tight, just like that baby.”

“Take Daddy's dick." Him fully entering into her in a slow, but deep pace.

Her chest rose as he slid inside her. She swallowed, adjusting herself to his length.

Jungkook smirks at her reaction, gripping her hips as he begins to thrust in faster, a low moan leaving his lips.

“Missed this wet ass pussy” He stared her down. “You miss that, baby? How Daddy fucks you like this?"

“Y-Yes”

“Fat ol’ ass and huge ass tits— And a pretty face. God, you're so fucking hot." Jungkook grunts, picking up the pace, thrusting harder and faster.

The sound of skin on skin filling the room, making sure to hit that sweet spot. "This what you wanted, huh baby?

“All I-I wanted— all I needed.” She whined out. “Fucking amazing.”

“I thought I was desperate." Jungkook growls, slapping her ass hard. “Such a pretty girl. Didn’t try to play me once.”

The room is filled with even louder wet slaps of his hips against her ass and his smacks. His thrusts becoming more erratic, his cock growing desperate for release.

“All for you, all yours. Been with no one but you.” She moaned, truthfully speaking.

"Good girl." Jungkook leans forward, nipping at her neck before whispering in her ear.

"Say my name, Y/n. Who's dick are you on?" He grips her throat.

“Fuck! Yours Daddy! Yours!” She was a mess on his cock, eyes rolling back.

“That’s my girl. All fucking mine.” He was watching as her body shudders from his touch.

He admired the way she was breaking down in front of him, going dumb on his dick.

The way her body twitched, he knew she was growing closer.

He watched her, clearly enjoying her lack of breath. The way she squirms, his to control and use.

"Gonna cum on daddy’s dick baby? Gonna let go for me?" He's almost there, wanting to finish strong.

“Want your cum— Need it.” She whimpered, eyes growing teary from the overwhelming pleasure. “Please daddy.”

“So fucking hard to say no to you." Jungkook snorts, pounding into her mercilessly. He was seeking his needed high so he could cum right with her.

The couple both reached their orgasms, moaning each other’s names before giving in and cumming together.

“Fuck— so in love with you.” Jungkook grunts, emptily filling her up. He catches his breath, panting with her.

She could hardly get out of the bed because of him, she was limp.

She was shuttering from her orgasm. Her legs were a trembling mess.

He watches her collect herself, loving the sight of her. The way she looks so used and satisfied, only at his hands.

Once she was all together, she got back in bed with him, kissing and chucking with him as the two panted together.

“I still got it.”

“Goddamnit Jungkook.” She hid her face. “Yes- you do.”

[thebubblesareevil]

Only the best Kings wear pink! Pt 2

Part 1 part 3

The day things changed was just like any other. The Keep was decked out with pink decorations and different activities though-out the castle, including but not limited to: tea in the garden, manicure stations, parent playgrounds (note spa), bowification stations, the glitter corner, the archery range, Queen Dorothea’s dragon tower…etc

Everything was ready for their monthly guests when, rather unexpectedly, he heard a knock at the door.

His guests had long forgone knocking (the parents could rarely get to the door before the children charged in). He managed to get to the door, waving off a busy maid carrying a delicious looking cake, where her was greeted by the teary eyed face of a young girl.

That in itself was odd, Danny made a point of no tears in the keep.

There was also the fact that she was very much alive.

Danny immediately kneeled in front of the little girl.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your tears, but are you here for the princess tea party?” He asked gently.

The little girl sniffled. “Tea party?”

Danny nodded. “All the little princesses of my Kingdom are invited.”

“But I’m not a princess.” She cried a bit more. Danny gave her a thoughtful hum.

“You certainly look like a princess to me.” Danny stated. “Are you lost little princess?”

She nodded, rubbing the tears from her eyes.

“Tell you what, why don’t you join us for our tea party and then I’ll personally escort you back to your castle, what do you say?”

The little girl sniffled, pondering for a moment before nodding.

“Wonderful!” Danny grinned. “And may I learn the name of the such an adorable princess?”

The little girl giggled “Lian! Lian Harper!”

“A lovely name for a lovely princess!” Danny grinned. “C’mon, I’m sure Lilac can get you your very own princess dress while we wait for the others.

——-

Lian fit in perfectly with the other children. Some of the parents seemed a bit skeptical, though they quickly accepted it after a brief explanation from the King.

Some parents went straight for the spa while others headed towards the suggestion room. (It really cut down on audiences when issues could be resolved with a letter)

All too soon the day ended and skulker reported to Danny with Lian’s home address.

Danny found her in the garden napping among the blossoms.

Danny smiled, gently nudging the girl awake.

“Lian? It’s time to go home now.”

“Hmmm?” Lian sluggishly raise her arms to be picked up by the King. Danny chuckled.

“Of course.” He gently picked, cradling her in his arms.

Silently he opened a portal into Lian’s bedroom carefully tucking her into bed.

Not even a moment after he vanished did a frantic babysitter rushed into the room, nearly sobbing in relief when she found the little girl.

(She was never playing hide and seek with the little ninja again)

——-

For the next few months the pattern continued. Though somehow no one ever seemed to notice when the girl vanished each month.

She had fully indoctrinated herself among the little ghosts of the tea party, every month the boys would challenge her to an archery bout and lose each time reluctantly conceding to getting the makeup done with each loss. (Edgar was quite fond of rainbow unicorn sparkle nails)

She was never late nor was she ever early (this led to many suspicions that Danny didn’t care enough to confirm). More than anything, after the 2nd time of her wandering into his Keep, Danny made a point of giving her a ghost whistle to call cujo if she ever got lost or needed him.

So he was understandably concerned when he was summoned by his (favorite) little princess by magic of all things.

He of course answered to summons (what if she was in dAnGeR???!?!?)

He stepped out of the portal at his full size, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling of the warehouse he found himself in.

Danny frowned, looking around he didn’t see Lian until he looked down at the crying little princess at his feet. Danny immediately shrunk down, completely ignoring the heroes fighting the cloaked (cultist? Fanatics? Victims of his wrath? That last one felt right) soon to be victims of his wrath.

Once he was at more manageable size he picked up Lian and swiftly removed her bindings.

“What’s wrong princess? If you wanted to see me all you needed to do was call.” He asked gently combing her hair with his claws, ignoring the red headed archer shouts.

“The mean men said they were gonna hurt Daddy and uncle Jay Jay, and all their friends!” She sniffled looking up at Danny giving him a clear view of the line of blood on her neck where his (very) soon to be victims nicked her.

“Shh, shh, don’t you worry princess. Why don’t you go hang out in the keep and help Spectre paint Banshees nail, hmm? I’m sure Fright would love it if you could braid his hair again too.” Lian pressed her wet face into Danny’s chest as she nodded.

He reached out, opening a small portal to gently place the little princess in his daughter’s room with a quick explanation.

He temporarily ignored the red heads screams and allowed the flurry of arrows and gunfire to pass through him.

He had other things to deal with right now.

“Now who do I have the pleasure of destroying today?”

One of the cloaked soon to be victims was clearly an imbecile as he stepped forward and began to shout.

“We offer you these two sacrifices in addition to the girl, that you might grant us the power to defeat our enemies, o mighty King of the Infinite Realms!”

Danny took a moment to count. “How strange, see I counted 15 victims and 2 spectators. You must need to get your glasses checked” Danny nodded to himself, allowing his for to stretch and his power to fill the room.

“But, I don’t have-“

Danny struck hard and fast. They would never see the light of day again.

After he was done disposing of the trash, he turned his attention to the heroes. Each of which had a weapon trained on his head, unfortunately human weapons didn’t work on him so they wouldn’t be much help.

“You son of a bitch! Give her back!!!” The red head shouted, his hands shaking.

“The rest of our team will be here any minute! Surrender now return the girl and we won’t have to fight you!” Helmet head shouted. Something felt off about that one, almost…familiar. Danny squinted and made a (probably stupid decision)

“Hmmm, nope” he snapped his fingers and two portals appeared underfoot of the two heroes.

[barcameowski]

𝐒𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋

basically a small part 2 of so american

warnings: none

face claim: sophia havertz

pairing: lando norris x american!reader

𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽

liked by landonorris , alexandrasaintmleux , mikkykiemeny and 319,000 others

yourusername: how is someone a formula one driver but almost crashed into a tree? 🌹

view comments

landonorris: IT WAS AN ACCIDENT

⇝ yourusername: AN ACCIDENT THAT ALMOST COST ME MY LIFE

landonorris: I’m just gonna stop reading the captions from now on, you look pretty

⇝ liked by creator

alexandrasaintmleux: your hair is beautiful !

⇝ yourusername: so is yours !!

user1: why are they so dramatic 😭

user2: she’s so elegant american sweetheart and he’s so british tea and crumpets

⇝ landonorris: opposites attract I guess

user3: FERRARI RED?!

⇝ yourusername: NO ITS JUST A DRESS DONT CANCEL ME

user4: I wanna see her on the streammmm

⇝ landonorris: your wish is my command

user5: lando what did you do to her

user6: she’s so passenger princess coded

user7: I love this dress pls send it to me

user8: favorite song?

⇝ yourusername: so high school by taylor swift💕

user9: those style accounts trying to find all her outfits as fast as possible

user10: I can’t wait for your birthday 🥳

user11: thoughts on the wicked movie?

⇝ yourusername: I sobbed

user12: poor yn

user13: favorite nickname for lando?

⇝ yourusername: im glad you asked, first on my list is crumpet, second is norris, third is just the letter L

user14: I thought you were supposed to be in the uk?

⇝ yourusername: surprise trip to st tropez 🌺

user15: the most beautiful

⇝ user16: the beautifulest

user17: landonorris if you don’t take her on a pasta date I’m coming for you

⇝ landonorris: we’re having one right now 🤩

⇝ user18: GET OFF YOUR PHONE

⇝ landonorris: OKAY DAMN

liked by alexandrasaintmleux ,yourusername , carmenmmundt and 483,000 others

landonorris: happy birthday to my american girl I love you more than words can describe and I promise to buy you another cat next year even though you don’t need it, your lando ❤️

view comments:

yourusername: thank you love you even more 😘

⇝ landonorris: that isn’t possible

alexandrasaintmleux: happy birthday to her 🤩

carmenmmundt: happy birthday !

maxfewtrell: happy birthday ferret

pietra.pilao: happy birthdayyy

comments are limited

requests are open

[flwrstqr]

enhypen hyung line reaction when you start distancing them

pairings: cold bf!enhypen x fem!reader | genre: fluff, ot7 work, imagines, angst ish| wc: 700+ | warnings: not proofread | an: this is the cutest prompt ever?? also bye why did i write 10x more than i thought. i didn't write all ot7 so sorry anon for that TT, i wrote too much and i thought if i did ot7, it might be a bit overwhelming to read.. may be releasing a maknae line ver soon | LIBRARY FOR MORE... (maknae line)

이희승 (lhs)

heeseung and you were known for having a somewhat fragile relationship. it wasn’t exactly toxic, but there was a noticeable weakness in your bond. whenever you tried to be affectionate, clinging to heeseung's arm and giving him small kisses, he would soon brush you off, saying he had a call to take. as he left the room, you began to wonder if you were being too clingy or obsessed. after all, heeseung was someone you had liked for months. consumed by overthinking, you decided to avoid heeseung. during dinner, as you prepared the food, heeseung noticed your unusual silence. your mouth was shut tight, and you showed no expression. the only words you said to him were, "come, eat." dinner passed in silence, and now it was heeseung’s turn to overthink. did he do something wrong? was he too cold? after dinner, heeseung retreated to his room, sitting in his usual chair and staring at the ceiling, replaying every conversation he had with you. a pang of guilt struck him as his usually cold demeanor began to melt away. hearing you sobbing quietly in your room, he couldn’t ignore it any longer. he walked in and wrapped his arms around you, and you felt his presence beside you. for the first time, he had a small smile on his face. your eyes were swollen from crying, but he gently wiped your tears and apologized for anything he had done to hurt you . ($U#IOEFHKDLFJ:% im tweaking) in that moment, you realized that heeseung did have a soft side, one that he reserved just for you.

rest of members below the cut !

박종성 (pjy)

you always loved comfort in jay’s presence. your friends often teased you about being clingy, but you often brushed it passed you. one day, hidden behind a corner, you overheard him talking to jungwon. “she's so clingy,” jay said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. the words pierced through you, leaving a sting of hurt. From that moment, you distanced yourself, pulling back from jay’s side. jay felt the change, your silence during dinners, messages becoming more dry and sent on delivered, and how you were always in your room. jay realized his mistake. one day as the two of you quietly were walking home, you felt a pair of fingers intertwine with yours. you turn to find jay's hand sneakily touching yours and grasping it. your eyes widened as you see jay's cheeky smile. "i'm sorry." were the two words you hear first. you realize what he meant as you feel tears falling down, embracing him then and realizing how much he actually did love you.

심재윤 (sjy)

being clingy with jake had always felt normal to you until one night when he called you clingy, unintentionally hurting your feelings and creating distance between you. the word stung, leaving you with a broken heart. locking yourself in your room, you cried for hours. it wasn't until jake realized the impact of his words that things began to change. to make it up to you, he tried everything: apologies, letters, and even attempts to talk it out with you. then, one night, you found one of his letters in front of your door, reading each word through your tears. you realized he truly had a soft spot for you. at the end of the letter, it said, "i love you, so please don't be sad, my angel." how could you not fall in love with him all over again?

박성훈(psh)

the evening air is cool against your skin as you walk with sunghoon, his presence a comforting warmth beside you. but as you enter the restaurant, his remark about your clinginess sends a chill down your spine. you bite your lip as you realize what he meant. throughout dinner, the conversation feels forced, the laughter hollow. he realizes how your voice went more and more quiet through out each conversation. your silence speaking for itself. as you walk back, sunghoon stops under a street lamp, his expression softened by the gentle glow. his apology is hesitant, but his eyes speak volumes. "im sorry, i was being mean, i truly think you're a beautiful person."

[happyyyandcrazyyy]

love and tattoos (kaz brekker x reader)

summary: in which jesper has a theory and kaz might be the matching tattoos kind of guy.

or

it’s two small words, a raven and a crow, a broken lock and a key, and a band around their ring finger.

or

“He has to be drunk, or high, or something, because there is absolutely no way he’s just seen a band of ink around Kaz’s ring finger.”

warnings: brief panic attack (not detailed), mentions of wounds and blood (not detailed, canon typical), set in the future, kaz has worked on his touch aversion

kaz taglist: @the-tpd-bau @ellievickstar @thestudiouswanderer | soc taglist: @ancientbeing10 (if you want to be added or removed from the taglist just dm me!)

a/n: here i am, once again, because apparently im incapable of stopping myself from writing for kaz brekker. i have so many wips but kaz always calls to me😭😭 this one was so much fun to write, it just flowed, and i hope you enjoy it just as much as i did!!

i. a band of ink around his ring finger, part one.

Jesper must be hallucinating, he has to be. He blinks once, twice, looks down at the drink in his hand, briefly wonders if it’s been laced with some sort of drug powerful enough to have his brain imagining things— because Jesper does not have the imagination to be making this up, he wishes he did —and then looks back up. The ink remains in place. Nope, no way. He shakes his head, presses his eyes shut. He has to be drunk, or high, or something, because there is absolutely no way he’s just seen a band of ink around Kaz’s ring finger.

It’s not the tattoo itself that shocks Jesper. Although, maybe it does freak him out a bit, a band around the ring finger can only mean one thing, and Jesper has never believed Kaz to be the marrying type. (Then again, he never thought him to be the matching tattoos kind of guy, and the last couple of months have had him discovering that Kaz very much could be.) No, what makes Jesper spiral is that he’s seen that exact same tattoo on (Y/N)’s own ring finger.

ii. you break, i mend.

Jesper has seen the tattoo on the inside of (Y/N)’s left wrist more times than he can count.

The word ‘mend’ in all lowercase, the typography delicate and elegant, the font somewhat rounded. Jesper has never asked what it means— because everyone in the Barrel has been branded, either by choice or against their will, and Jesper knows the black ink carries memories, promises and pain, he knows better than to ask —but he thinks it’s fitting for her, both the word and the style. Because (Y/N) is a gentle force, someone who provides emotional care to those close to her, a fixer. She loves proudly and deeply, and Jesper has never met someone in this wretched place that is so unafraid to be kind. He doesn’t know what she does to remain untainted, to keep her soul so pure in spite of their line of work. He envies it, sometimes. But then he’ll hear muted sobs through the thin walls, wake up at the sound of screams caused by nightmares, and he’ll wonder if feeling and caring that much is even worth it.

Jesper doesn’t think much about (Y/N)’s tattoo— it’s pretty and it suits her, and, yeah, he gets the desperate need to ask for a backstory whenever he catches a glimpse of it, but never does. There’s nothing more to it. That is until he spies a word on Kaz’s own wrist.

He only sees the tattoo because Kaz takes his gloves off. That doesn’t happen very often, if at all. But it’s the hottest day of summer they’ve had in Ketterdam in years, and they’ve been out in the sun all day, so Jesper is only mildly surprised when they reach Kaz’s office and he takes the black gloves off. What does take him completely off guard, however, is the inked word on his right wrist, partially hidden by the sleeves of his shirt.

‘BREAK’. In uppercase, with jagged and fragmented lettering. Jesper only catches a glimpse before Kaz twists away and the ink is completely sheltered by his clothes, but he’s almost sure the tattoo has some sort of optical effect, makes it seem like the words have been shattered, all sharp and angular lines.

Kaz is saying something and Inej is responding, and it’s probably important and he definitely should be paying attention, but Jesper’s mind is elsewhere because (Y/N)’s delicate tattoo suddenly comes to mind. The similarities are just right there and now all Jesper can think about is how odd of a coincidence it is that (Y/N) and Kaz have mirror tattoos. Same place, but opposite wrist. A single word, one neat and elegant, the other harsh and precise. Jesper does not believe in coincidences, but it can’t be anything else— because believing it to be something else would mean believing Kaz to be a matching tattoos type of person and Jesper would bet his guns against that —so he simply ponders over the possible coincidence, just for a quick second, before Kaz is directing questions towards him and Jesper is forced to shove the information in the back of his mind.

He ends up forgetting about it. Not forgetting forgetting, more so in the way he forgets his debts until there are collectors knocking on his door. The information is there, stored in some corner of his brain, ready to be brought back into his consciousness with just the right push.

The right push comes a Saturday night, two months after he first notices Kaz’s tattoo.

(Y/N) is out on a job. Jesper doesn’t know any of the details— not the target, nor the entry and exit routes, nothing at all —but he knows something is wrong because Kaz has been pacing for the last half hour.

“She should be back by now,” is all Kaz says when he asks. He doesn’t really need to say more. Jesper feels the way his chest constricts, panic slowly building. (Y/N) is never late.

Just as Jesper feels like he’s about to start pacing himself, the door of the Slat opens. She’s got her hood on, doesn’t look up from the floor when she walks in. There’s a certain drag in her limbs, something that tells Jesper that something is wrong, wrong, wrong.

“Where the fuck were you?” The words aren’t directed towards him, but Jesper cannot help but flinch. Kaz doesn’t get like this often, cold and harsh because he’s worried, so the job must’ve been important, high stakes, the type where survival isn’t assured.

(Y/N) looks up, and it’s only then that Jesper notices the blood. It’s everywhere. It drips down the slope of her nose, it trails down her lips. She walks closer and with the change of light he notices that it’s also embedded in her clothes. The most disturbing thing, however, are her eyes. Glassy, distant, unseeing. She’s shaking. Full body tremors.

By his side, Kaz deflates completely at the sight of her. He’s already moving towards her when she whispers brokenly, “I’m sorry.”

The apology goes ignored, “Where are you hurt?” Kaz asks. He reins his panic well enough, but Jesper can still taste the traces of it, they float around in the air.

(Y/N) doesn’t move, doesn’t acknowledge Kaz as he comes to stand right in front of her, trying his best to assess for injuries. It’s hard when all there is to see is blood.

“I’m not hurt,” she responds, and it’s like she’s in a trance, capable of responding but not truly present. Jesper furrows his brows, catches the concerned look on Kaz face. Does she not realize she’s covered in blood? She raises her hand to gesture at herself, and it’s only when she does so that Jesper notices the blade. She waves it around. It’s stained red, all the way to the handle. “Blood’s not mine.”

Jesper freezes. Kaz stops dead on his tracks, too.

Kaz looks back at him and understanding passes through them. She snapped. Something made her snap.

It seems like she’s just processing it, too, because a second after she mutters those words the knife falls from her hand and her knees wobble. It’s like Kaz had been expecting the sudden crash, because he’s quick to help her down. He grabs her by the sleeves of her tunic and sits her on the floor, back against the wall.

Her breathing begins to come out hard and labored, she clutches at her chest, hard.

“Look at me,” Kaz instructs, but she’s not here anymore. Jesper cannot help the way fear courses through him at the sight of her faraway eyes and the sound of her disordered breaths. He’s only ever seen (Y/N) like this once before, and even then, it hadn’t been this bad, she’d been responsive to Kaz, and very much able to breathe properly. Right now, not even Kaz’s words are cutting through the haze.

The wheezing becomes louder, more intense. The more she panics, the less she breathes, the more Jesper feels like he, himself, isn’t capable of getting air into his lungs. Kaz keeps talking, but she doesn’t seem to hear him.

“I can’t—” Her lips are slowly losing color.

Jesper is still frozen in place, and he can tell that Kaz is also beginning to panic by the way he grabs her clothed hand and presses it against his own chest.

“Breathe,” he orders. Insistent, firm. Kaz’s words leave no room for argument and (Y/N) reacts accordingly. Like it’s instinct to do as Kaz says, she takes in a deep breath, ragged.

“Good girl.” Kaz’s hand, the one that isn’t on top of (Y/N)’s own, pressed against his chest, hovers over her cheek. He ends up grabbing the end of the hood that still partially covers her face. “One more time.”

She repeats the action, another deep breath, interrupted by a brief coughing fit.

“You’re okay, match my breaths.” She nods weakly and does as best she can, eyes shut. The hand that is on Kaz’s chest has become a fist, rumpling his shirt. She holds onto him like a lifeline.

“I’ll get her water,” he finds himself saying.

Kaz doesn’t turn to look at him, “Bring a wet cloth, too.”

Jesper nods and slips out of the room and into the kitchen. He feels like he’s having an out of body experience, his body working automatically on pouring tap water in a glass, on finding a clean cloth. His mind is miles away.

Saints.

It’s disconcerting to see someone as serene and put together as (Y/N) so rattled and distraught. He feels disoriented, like the world has shifted off his feet. He’s never seen her snap so badly that she ends up spiraling into a panic attack. Jesper doesn’t know much about her past, but Kaz had once mentioned something about a complicated upbringing, about being raised as a weapon not a child. He doesn’t want to begin to imagine what he’d meant.

The soft murmur of words brings him back to reality, grounds him and guides him once again into his body.

“Are you with me?”

No response, but Jesper imagines that she must’ve nodded because he hears the soft sigh of relief that Kaz lets out.

It’s quiet for a little while, Jesper focuses on the sound of water flowing through the cloth in his hands, the feeling of it getting damper.

“I’m sorry.” The words come out soft, filled with emotion and embarrassment.

“None of that.”

“I didn’t mean to…”

“I know. It’s okay.”

The silence lingers before being filled by quiet noises. Jesper has heard her sobs through his wall enough times to identify them. His heart tightens painfully.

“It’s okay,” Kaz repeats, softer this time. It’s a tone Jesper has never heard him use with anyone else.

“There were children, Kaz,” Jesper has to strain to make out the words, they’re muffled by something, “little kids. And it just reminded me of… I couldn’t...”

“I know.”

A sniffle, “I’m sorry,” followed by a broken laugh, soft and sad. “I’m a mess.”

Jesper turns off the faucet, twists the cloths to remove any excess of water. He grabs the glass of water with one hand and the cloth with the other and then, just, waits. He knows this conversation is not one he should be present for, he doesn’t want to be present.

It’s a good thing, too, that he doesn’t make his way towards them, because he’s pretty sure he would’ve stumbled and dropped everything at the next words that fall out of Kaz’s mouth.

“If you break, I mend, remember?”

(mend

BREAK)

Jesper places the glass of water on the kitchen counter and blinks once, twice.

Saints be damned.

Kaz might be the matching tattoos type of person.

iii. a raven and a crow

The matching tattoo theory, as Jesper likes to refer to it, remains just that, a theory. Because Jesper has no real way of proving it, not unless he finds the will to ask (Y/N)— which he just can’t do, she’s so open about everything that prodding just feels unfair —or unless he brings his curiosity to Kaz— which might just end up with him losing a finger, and Jesper likes his limbs just as they are, thank you very much. So, for now, it’s merely speculation, something that could be played off as a coincidence. And he thinks it must be a coincidence, right? Matching tattoos are too sentimental for someone like Kaz. (Then again, he has always been different when it comes to (Y/N), so maybe Jesper shouldn’t be that surprised.) And they aren’t matching tattoos, not really, they are more like, well, mirror ones. It’s different. Probably nothing. He might be connecting dots where there’s absolutely nothing to connect.

He can’t help the way he begins to observe more, trying to find anything to sustain or disprove his theory. It’s only natural, he tells himself, Jesper is nothing if not a curious man.

It’s only because he becomes so attuned to them, and whatever that thing is that they have going on, that Jesper notices little things.

“Inej?”

“Good.”

Kaz keeps on making roll call, making sure all of them are there and unharmed.

“Jes?”

“Very much alive,” he grunts in response, letting himself flop into the haystack. His heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest, but at least it’s still beating. He cannot believe a blizzard of all things is what saved their lives.

He looks to his left. Even Inej looks slightly winded. She pats the pocket of her coat, sags in relief immediately after. Jesper does the same, touches his inner pocket, feels the edges of the glass key, and sighs.

The goods are safe.

“Nina?”

“Here.” Her cheeks are rosy. Jesper isn’t sure if it’s because of the dreadful cold or the exertion.

There’s silence after, the room filled by only harsh breaths. Jesper snaps up, looking around frantically, because Kaz is not calling (Y/N)’s name and that can only mean that she’s not there or she’s…

His mind quiets down when he takes in the sight in front of him.

Kaz is not calling (Y/N)’s name because he already has eyes on her. Probably always did.

And that’s when Jesper sees it, a little thing, something that tilts the scales in favor of his theory; the softness in (Y/N)’s face as she listens to Kaz.

(Y/N) is always kind— with battered gang members and hungry street urchins, with the loud customers and even with those who dare gamble against her —but Jesper is just now realizing that there’s a different gentleness when it comes to the way she takes Kaz in. The look in her eyes becomes quieter, more intimate, delicate. She says something, much too quiet for Jesper to hear, and smiles. Kaz shakes his head fondly, responds with a hushed whisper. It’s tender, precious, private. It makes Jesper feel like he’s intruding.

And then something Jesper has never seen before happens. Kaz takes (Y/N)’s chin with his gloved hand, thumb and index fingers holding her. He moves her face around, looking for any visible injury.

There goes another detail in favor of the matching tattoo theory.

Jesper thinks he might’ve just entered some sort of altered reality because what is he even looking at right now. He looks around but Inej and Nina aren’t paying them any mind, too engrossed in their own conversation.

Great, he’s all alone in trying to figure this thing out.

“I’m okay,” he hears (Y/N) reassure.

For the most part, Jesper thinks to himself, because he doesn’t miss the way she’s pressing her hand to her abdomen. Apparently, it hasn’t slipped past Kaz either, because he hums and raises his eyebrows, eyes pointedly trailing down to the wound.

She rolls her eyes at him, even that action looks fond, “It’s not deep.”

Kaz is more tactile with her, Jesper realizes with a start. It’s not a word he would ever use to describe Dirtyhands, but it’s the only one that comes to mind. (And Kaz has gotten better over the years, he has. It’s been gradual, and Jesper has no clue as to how or what he’s done, but he hasn’t missed the way Kaz doesn’t cringe away from the Crows anymore, how he doesn’t pale when someone brushes against him. He doesn’t seek touch, but he doesn’t lose all semblance of control at it either. Still, tactile is farther from what Kaz is, and this? This is huge. This is the greatest display of touch Jesper has ever seen him do.)

“You’ve got it?”

“Yeah, I’ll stitch it.”

His gloved thumb brushes her skin, briefly, before he taps the bottom of her chin gently, in approval, and lets her go.

“I can help you with that,” Nina pipes up.

Jesper turns around, immediately catches the look in the Heartrender’s eyes. Seems like he might not be the only one noticing things.

(Y/N) nods in agreement and Nina follows after her. Jesper decides, after taking only two seconds to ponder on the thought, to trail behind them. He wants to listen in— because he knows Nina won’t be able to keep herself from commenting or questioning and he’s aching to know —but he’s also hoping the Heartrender will take pity on him and heal some of his bruises.

“What do you want?” Nina asks him as they settle on a small corner of the stable. (Y/N) leans against a wooden post as she begins to undress, untucking her shirt.

Jesper simply points at the bruise he can already feel forming on his cheekbone, offering a cheeky smile.

“I’m not a nurse, Fahey.”

“You’re gonna stitch her up!” (Y/N) is watching with amusement and when Jesper points at her she raises one hand in surrender, the other still pressed against her wound.

“Yeah, well,” Nina shrugs, needle and thread in hand, “She’s my favorite.”

(Y/N) chuckles. There’s a broken-down iron chest and she sits on it as well as she can, leaning back so that Nina can work. She winks at him, “Privileges, Jes.”

He pouts.

“Saints,” Nina mutters when she catches a look of him. She’s decided that kneeling by (Y/N) side will be the most comfortable position for her to work. She cleans the wound, pours water over it, and doesn’t turn to him as she says, “If you stop doing that face I’ll see what I can do about the bruise.”

He smirks to himself, “You’ve got it, boss.”

Jesper can’t see it, but he’s sure she rolls her eyes at him.

“Try not to move,” she instructs (Y/N), voice gaining a softer, less teasing edge. The needle pricks the skin.

It’s not a deep wound, (Y/N) had been right about that. It bleeds, but the flow seems to be slowing down. It’s a little bit over her hipbone, but not quite on her abdomen. Judging by the injury, if Jesper had to guess, he would say it was probably caused by a straight back blade.

He had sort of expected Nina to immediately fire away, to start unabashedly questioning, but she doesn’t. She moves her hands in a repetitive motion, closing the skin. Then, she casually comments, “That’s not a crow.”

It’s only then that Jesper notices the ink; just over (Y/N)'s hipbone, only visible because she’d pulled her trousers a bit down to give Nina more skin to maneuver around.

“No, it isn’t,” (Y/N) confirms. She’s got her eyes closed, looks a lot more like she’s sleeping and not like she’s having her skin stitched back together. Either Nina has an amazing ability or she’s somehow managing to dissociate from the pain.

“A raven?”

“Yeah.”

Jesper leans away from the wall to get a better look at it. It’s small, simple, just the silhouette done in thin black lines. He has no idea how Nina managed to identify the bird.

Nina stays quiet for a split second, musing. She keeps her hands steady, thread pulling skin. Apparently, she decides she does not care about decorum— just like Jesper had expected —because she ends up stating, matter-of-factly, “Kaz calls you that.”

Jesper sort of forgets how to breathe. That’s why Nina hadn’t gone on a tangent regarding the touches and the glances, he realizes in that moment. She’d been distracted by something much more interesting.

And she hadn’t identified the bird, she’d just made an informed assumption. Because Kaz does call her that, raven, and sometimes, when he's feeling particularly fond, little raven. He uses it interchangeably with her name and often enough that when Jesper had initially joined the Dregs, all those years back, he’d assumed it to be her name. He’s not quite sure how Nina, who’s been with them for a shorter period of time, managed to make that connection quicker than him.

(Y/N) lets out a breathy laugh, “That he does.”

Instead of further grilling (Y/N) about the tattoo, as Jesper had expected, Nina changes the line of inquiry.

“Why?” She stops sewing and looks up at (Y/N), eyes filled with curiosity.

Oh, she’s insane, Jesper thinks to himself. He sort of wishes he’d have the audacity to ask such direct questions.

(Y/N) doesn’t seem bothered by the prodding, only mildly amused. She chuckles, “You would have to ask him that.”

Not even Nina is insane enough to dare do that. Probably. Nina is sort of a wild card, Jesper can never get a complete read on her.

She proves her sanity by taking the easier route, she whines and pouts, “C’mon. Tell us.”

(Y/N) laughs, louder this time. The reaction is immediate, the wound oozes more blood, and she flinches, moving her hand towards the injury and managing to stop herself millimeters before touching it. It makes Nina get back to stitching.

“You’re bold,” (Y/N) opens her eyes and looks straight at Jesper. There’s something in her eyes, a glimmer that passes quickly, like she knows something that Jesper doesn’t and it amuses her. “Jes would never dare ask.”

“Hey!” He pretends to be offended but isn’t really. She knows him too well.

“You know it’s true.”

He only grumbles in response, hates that she’s right.

Nina is suddenly tense, as if she isn’t quite sure if (Y/N)’s words are meant as a compliment or a reprimand. (Y/N) closes her eyes again, rests her head against the wall and reassures her, “I like that. Your boldness.”

And Nina preens, subtly, but she does. Jesper understands. (Y/N)’s approval somehow comes to mean everything to those around her. She’s like an older sister you’re always trying to impress.

Jesper thinks she won’t be saying anything more, but (Y/N) does.

“Ravens are softer than crows, more playful,” she mumbles quietly. Jesper, who isn’t even far from her, strains to hear, “Gentler, too.” And it’s like she knows exactly where the ink lays on her skin, like she has it memorized, because she manages to avoid Nina and the needle and trace the outline of the tattoo, eyes still closed, “And yet they manage to survive in the same brutal world that crows do.”

The words sink in. Jesper blinks once, twice, shifts on his feet, somewhat uncomfortable. It feels like he’s just gained insight on something much too private, into the feelings and thoughts of Kaz Brekker. Because what she just explained, vaguely and in simple words, has a much deeper meaning, and Jesper doesn’t miss that. It’s how Kaz sees her, an equal. Someone as strong as a crow, as fierce and resourceful and capable, but softer, gentler. That’s (Y/N) to him.

“That’s it?” Nina sounds perpetually unimpressed, but she doesn’t get it. She hasn’t been with the Crows long enough to understand.

(Y/N) smirks, like she knew the words wouldn’t mean much to her, and that tells Jesper something. There’s even more to the meaning of the nickname and she won’t be sharing.

“If you want more you can just ask Kaz.”

Nina huffs and pouts, pulls at the thread a bit harsher than necessary in retaliation. It probably doesn’t even sting, but (Y/N) plays along.

“Ow!?” The smirk remains on her face.

“Sorry,” Nina says, not sounding the least apologetic.

(Y/N) only chuckles, “I really do like your boldness.”

It isn’t until later that night, as Jesper sleeps in the haystack and shivers from the cold, hoping to the Saints that the smell of horse can be removed from his clothes, that realization strikes him. His eyes snap wide open.

The image of a letter R inked in Kaz’s forearm flashes through his mind.

R.

A Raven.

No fucking way.

He has no evidence of it, no evidence that those tattoos might be complementary, but something in his gut tells him they are, and he decides to listen to his instincts.

Great, that’s yet another circumstantial piece of evidence in favor of his theory.

(Jesper doesn’t know, will never know, but he gets it both wrong and right. The letter R that is permanently etched on Kaz’s skin means something else entirely, but he does have the small silhouette of a crow, different from the one on his arm, over his ribs.)

iv. a broken lock and a key

Jesper and (Y/N) stay behind. It’s Jesper’s fault, he’d landed wrong when they jumped off the cliff, too busy on firing his guns to focus on the landing, and the resulting sprained ankle made it hard to keep up with the rest. (Maybe it was sort of Kaz’s fault, too, because who even decides on an exit route that includes free falling off a cliff. Jesper should be used to Kaz’s antics by now, but the man keeps on outdoing himself.)

(Y/N) had quickly offered to match his pace, to keep him company while the rest went ahead.

After a quick discussion Kaz had agreed to it. Jesper hadn’t missed the way they’d said goodbye. Their pinky fingers interlacing with one another.

He might not be completely sure about his matching tattoo theory— denial, really, he’s in denial, and he’s man enough to admit that to himself —but he has absolutely no doubt there is something going on between them. Jesper hasn’t put a name on it yet, he’s not even sure they have, but one would have to be blind to deny it.

Wylan had volunteered too, but Kaz needed him for the next phase of the plan, so he wasn’t really an option. A shame, really, Jesper would’ve enjoyed some alone time with his boyfriend, but he can’t complain, (Y/N) is good company. She doesn’t whine about how slow they’re going, doesn’t mention the fact that, by now, they’re probably two days behind. She keeps the air between them filled with light chatter and that makes it more bearable, makes him feel less of a burden.

On the third day of their journey Jesper wakes up alone. He’s not immediately filled by dread because he’s a light sleeper, he’s sure he would’ve woken up at the sound of any commotion, and he’s even more certain that (Y/N) would’ve had any attacker down on the floor with a gun to their temple before they even had the chance to breathe too close to them.

So, he’s not worried, but there’s something about not having (Y/N) within his line of sight that feels wrong, partly because he’s got no idea where she is, and mainly because Kaz had given him a cautionary glare when they’d ventured ahead, an easily interpreted warning to keep her safe or else.

It’s only when he begins to look around that Jesper notices her knapsack is also missing. He closes his eyes and focuses. Somewhere in the distance he can hear running water. He follows the sound before he can think too much, limping along the way.

Jesper finds her easily. He sort of wishes he hadn’t found her. Because she is showering in the lake and she is completely naked.

“Saints!” It’s a knee-jerk reaction to turn around, eyes screwed shut. “I am so sorry.”

(Y/N) snickers, unbothered, “Relax, Jes. It’s okay.”

And she’s saying that, but Jesper is pretty sure Kaz would gauge his eyes off is he found out he’s just seen her completely nude.

He shakes his head, over and over. Ah, Kaz is going to kill him. He is a dead man walking.

She must be watching him because she lets out a laugh.

“Oh, please.” There’s amusement in her tone, “Nothing you haven’t seen before,” she teases, and Jesper regrets every single thing he’s ever told her about his sexual encounters.

He huffs out a laugh. It’s got nothing to do with that, Jesper isn’t a prude, he’s just trying to process the fact that if Kaz ever finds out he will more than likely lose a finger, or his life. But he can’t say that, that’s a conversation he’s not ready to have, so he settles for, “You’re like my sister, it’s not the same.”

“Fair enough,” she responds. Jesper catches the affection in her voice. He doesn’t think he’s ever told her how she sees her as family and she must’ve known, their bond runs deep, it goes unspoken, but maybe it’s different to hear it out loud.

“It’s my fault anyways, I shouldn’t have left without telling you where I was going,” she disrupts his thoughts. “But you were finally sleeping.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles. Obviously it wouldn’t slip past her that in between the pain on his ankle and the cold of the night he’s been having a hard time falling asleep.

“You shouldn’t be standing for long,” she points out, and Jesper agrees. His leg is beginning to ache and if they’re going to travel long today, he must rest as much as he can. But the idea of walking back to camp and leaving her alone doesn’t sit right with him— even if he knows she’s capable of defending herself, she would probably do a better job than him, given his state —so he limps towards a big rock, back still towards her, and sits.

“You’re gonna keep me company?”

Jesper hums in response, “Talk so I know you haven’t suddenly been kidnapped.”

She doesn’t talk, instead she sings. It’s an old Kerch song, Jesper knows because of the mournful feel. It builds up slow and steady, flows with the morning air. She's got a nice voice. Jesper never gets tired of hearing her.

It’s as he listens, slowly being lulled into a peaceful mindset, that the memory of the ink flows through his mind. It’d been the thing his eyes had zeroed in, the black mark on the back of her neck.

Maybe it’s the soothing music, or maybe he’s slowly becoming more daring, but the words slip out of his mouth without thought, “Is it a key?”

(Y/N) stops midway through the bridge of the song.

“What?” she asks, confusion permeating the lone word.

“On the back of your neck,” Jesper clarifies, gesturing to his own neck.

There’s silence, long enough for Jesper to start thinking that maybe this wasn’t the best idea, before the air is filled with laughter. She chuckles as if he's just said the funniest thing.

She’s still giggling when she says, “I can’t believe you caught sight of it.”

He’s confused by her reaction and settles for responding with a teasing, “I’ve got a great vision.”

“That you do,” she replies. "It is a key," she confirms and then the singing starts again, more of a humming this time around, a much brighter song.

And Jesper must be really really losing the filter between his mouth and his brain— he blames the pain and the lack of sleep —because he finds himself asking, “Does Kaz have a lock, by any chance?”

He’s teasing, but not really. It’s a good enough question, not truly invasive. It gives her room to answer as she wishes.

To his surprise, she says, “Yes, he does.”

His head snaps towards her, momentarily forgetting that she’s naked and that Kaz will definitely kill him for seeing her naked twice. To his luck, (Y/N) is already getting dressed, water dripping down her hair and staining her shirt.

“What?”

There’s a sharp glint in her eyes, knowing, almost playful. A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth, just enough hint of mischief to make Jesper doubt the truthfulness of her words.

“Yeah,” she repeats in mock seriousness, “he’s got a small lock around here,” she points the area around her collarbone, close to where her heart is. “It’s very pretty.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

(Y/N) snickers, “Maybe I am.” She ruffles his hair as she walks past him.

Weeks later Jesper realizes that she had been fucking with him, but not lying. Kaz’s shirt rips during a heist and Jesper catches the briefest glimpse of the image of a broken lock, inked right above his heart.

v. a band of ink around his ring finger, part two.

As if summoned by his thoughts, (Y/N) materializes by his side. She takes a look at his face, follows his line of sight, and snickers.

“Did you finally figure it out?”

He turns to her. Blinks once, twice.

“What?”

She looks highly entertained by the evident confusion on his face.

“I caught you staring at my tattoo sometimes,” Jesper follows the movement of her fingers, watches as she rubs the mend on her wrist absentmindedly. “And then you would get this constipated look on your face.”

Jesper sputters, “I do not look constipated.”

“Only when you’re thinking too hard,” she teases, her smile bright. “So, I figured, well…”

“That I might be losing my mind trying to figure out if Kaz is the matching tattoo kind of person?”

“Yep, something like that,” she takes a sip of her drink. “He is, by the way.” (Y/N)’s not looking at him anymore, her eyes have drifted. He follows her sight and isn’t surprised to find her looking at Kaz. She softens immediately. “All the tattoos were his idea.”

Jesper feels like he’s really entered some other reality. He can’t believe she’s just telling him all this. Does this mean that he could’ve known months ago if he’d just asked?

“And,” he dares ask, because apparently (Y/N) is in a sharing mood, and apparently he's grown bolder. It must be the alcohol. “You’re married?”

He doesn’t miss the way she rubs her thumb against her ring finger, the one that contains the exact same band of ink as Kaz’s.

“Yeah.”

“Actually?”

She pulls her necklace. A wedding band lies there. It’s anything but traditional. Black, probably forged from oxidized steel. Sleek, unadorned and somehow still elegant. There’s something engraved on the inside. Jesper just catches the letter R.

“Got the documents to prove it, too.”

Jesper sighs, astounded, “You never said a thing.”

“We didn’t really keep it a secret, just private.” It sounds like an apology somehow. “It's just, in a place like this," she gestures around, "some things you have to keep to yourself."

Jesper understands.

He shakes his head, still somehow feeling like he’s drugged.

Kaz Brekker, a matching tattoo and marriage type of person. Who would’ve guessed.

“Lovers, huh?”

(Y/N) smiles, before she slips away and makes her way towards Kaz, Jesper hears her whisper.

“‘Lovers’ feels too small a word for what we are.”

[little-wicked10]

because i liked a boy🩶

Summary: It was all so innocent, dating boys with exes. While Soldier Boy isn’t phased by the scandal, she’s being painted as the slut that broke up America’s favorite couple.

Warnings: Smut 18+, angst, cursing, bullying/threats (from public/media and coworkers), drugs, daddy kink, breeding kink

Notes: Inspired by the song “because i liked a boy” by Sabrina Carpenter.

//

‘Home wrecker.’

‘Slut.’

Cruel jabs whispered under people’s breath as she walked through the office. It took all her strength not to turn and respond, to not show an inkling of acknowledgement at their hurtful words. She wouldn’t let them see how upset she actually was at the swirling media storm. It seemed the only newspapers and magazines anyone was interested in had her and Soldier Boy plastered all over it. The compromising picture of her straddling the supe’s lap was printed everywhere. The headlines only made it worse.

‘Assistant Steals Soldier Boy from Crimson Countess’

‘Home wrecker Breaks Up America’s Power Couple’

‘Crimson Countess Blindsided by Gold Digger Secretary’

Perception is reality, and she was being perceived as the slut that tricked Soldier Boy into cheating. None of it was true, but who would believe her? She could scream from the roof tops the truth of the situation, and no one would listen. The only person who had the authority to put a stop to the situation was out of the country on a mission with his “heartbroken girlfriend”. She was on her own. Left to the hyenas to be picked off.

America would be shocked to find out the power couple they so loved to fawn over was bullshit. A fabricated relationship for publicity. While the two supes had dated in the beginning, it didn’t last longer than three months with a rough on and off period for the rest of that year. They only kept up the charade for the cameras and the increase in paycheck.

To the public, Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess were a strong united front. It was behind closed doors that he was hers. Sure, it started out as just casually hooking up, but the amazing sex turned into meaningful conversation then something deeper. She knew it was wrong to be involved with a man that was basically her boss and the most famous supe in the world. But, he was convincing and persistent. Plus, it wasn’t like he was ACTUALLY committed to his fake girlfriend.

She sat down at her desk with a huff. Just when she thought she had escaped the scrutinizing, she saw what had been left for her. All across her desk was what could only be described as hate mail. Pieces of paper scrolled with vile words and threats. The deeper she read into the pile, the more distressed she became. Fear gripped her stomach and tears burned in her eyes with every note.

Beneath the mess, her fingers felt grooves in the surface of her desk. Her hands shook as she pushed aside all the papers to reveal something horrifying. In big bold letters, the word ‘WHORE!’ was carved into the wood. She clapped a hand over her mouth to silence her frightened scream. “Oh my god,” the tears fell as she buried her face in her hands, quietly crying.

There was nothing she could do. Ben wasn’t there. Vought wouldn’t help. No one would help or even believe her side of things. She was utterly alone. Utterly at the mercy of the lynch mob looking for someone to blame.

//

Ben had barely been home a few hours, hadn’t even taken his suit off, when he heard her incessant knocking. A playful smirk adorned his face as he strode through his living room. The last thing he expected when he answered his door was his favorite girl sobbing uncontrollably. Before he could say anything, she threw herself into his arms, wailing into his chest as her body trembled.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! What’s goin’ on?” he gently wrapped her up in his arms, “I was only gone a week, doll. What’s with the water works?”

“They know! Everyone knows!”

“Who knows? What are you talkin’ about, honey?” her panicked heart rate made him uneasy.

“Someone saw us! It’s everywhere, Ben! They’re saying I broke you and Countess up,” she cried before handing him a magazine, “Look!”

Ben took it from her as she began to pace towards his living room. His eyes scanned over the cover photo and headline: an intimate picture of them titled, “Secretary Steals America’s Hero.” What bullshit. The supe simply shook his head and chuckled, “Honey, this has got you so upset? Some sleazy tabloid?”

She stopped her pacing and turned back to him, “It’s not just in the sleazy tabloids! It’s everywhere! They’re calling me a slut and a home wrecker!”

He rolled his eyes as he tossed the magazine aside, stepping towards her, “It’s not the end of the world. It’s just some assholes trying to get a bigger paycheck.”

“Not the end of the world?!?” she nearly screeched, “You’re only saying that because YOU’RE not the one getting dragged through hot coals!“

“Baby, baby, relax,” he held her by her shoulders, thumbs rubbing circles in an attempt to comfort her, “It’ll all blow over. Vought will take care of it. Be like it never happened.”

She trembled in his hold, “You haven’t been here the last three days. Vought hasn’t done a damn thing! Why would they do anything for some supe chasing gold digger that weaseled her way between America’s sweethearts?!?”

Ben couldn’t help the eye roll at the dumb nickname for him and Countess. If the media vultures had cared to follow him more closely, they’d realize he’d been “cheating” on his “girlfriend” for some time now. Hookers, groupies, celebrities, co-workers, any piece of ass he could get his hands on were fair game long before his current relationship came along. It was Vought’s insane damage control that kept up his squeaky clean, all-American boy image.

“This isn’t gonna blow over! They’re probably gonna fire me! Everyone in the Tower already hates me,” she sobbed, “I’m getting death threats!”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, “Death threats? From who?”

“I-I dont know. They covered my desk in letters telling me to k-kill myself and just…just fucking fucked up shit,” she wiped her eyes frantically, “They carved ‘whore’ into my desk!”

Ben felt his blood boil, anger turning his green eyes darker, “Show me.”

Her fearful eyes finally met his, “I-I can’t go back down there.”

His hold shifted to place her face between his large palms, “Show me. Now.”

//

The entire floor became eerily still when they stepped off the elevator. She tried not to shrink into the intimidating supe as he strode towards her vandalized office. People whispered, and he heard everything they were saying.

“Look who went running to her sugar daddy.”

“How can she show her face here? With him?”

“What does he even see in her?”

Each comment set him on fire, fueled him to see what these sheep had done while he was away. When they reached her office, he all but broke the door off its hinges. She leaned against a wall as she watched him stalk around the scene of the crime. Ben’s brow furrowed as he waded through the pile on her desk. It had grown since she was last in the office. His jaw set harder with every threat, insult, and accusation he read. The final straw was when he set his eyes on the carved wooden surface. It set him off.

In the blink of an eye, he smashed the word, and the desk, in half with his shield. The force was so great that the papers exploded across the room. Fury radiated off him in waves. Running a gloved hand over his facial hair, he paced towards her. She whimpered before he pulled her into his arms and pet her hair. “I’m sorry, honey,” he mumbled kissing her hair, “Go upstairs. I’ll take care of this.”

She shifted to look up at him, “What are you gonna do?”

He shook his head, “Do as I say. Go wait upstairs. Now.”

//

It been hours since he gave his stern order to go wait in his apartment. She nervously sat on his bed smoking a joint in one of his t-shirts, the drug calming her nerves enough to ease some of her stress. She’d barely been able to roll it with her hands trembling so fiercely. There was no telling what Ben was going to do. One could only hope he didn’t kill anyone. He was an all or nothing type of man with everything he did.

When he was a playboy, there wasn’t enough tail or drugs to go around.

When he’s in a real relationship, he was as loyal as a dog.

So, when he said he was going to take care of a problem, he’d fucking obliterate it.

She was jolted from her worrying thoughts when she heard the front door slam shut. Quickly slipping off the bed, she rushed into the other room to see Ben pouring himself a drink at the bar. Her eyes scanned over him, checking for blood and wounds, before approaching him. “W-What happened?” she quietly asked.

He threw back the amber liquor before setting down the glass with a clatter, “It was Countess. She told the press where to find us.”

Her breath caught in her throat, “W-Why would s-she do that?”

He ran his fingers through his hair before looking at her, “Ya know what they say, ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’ or some bullshit like that. Now I know why she was actin’ so fuckin’ crazy.”

Countess had been throwing herself at him the full seven days of the mission. She pulled out every trick in her book she knew use to get his engine going. The more Countess tried, the more annoyed he got. It all came to a head when he walked into his tent to find her naked on his cot. She was obviously counting on him still being a complete scumbag like when they dated. Needless to say he blew a fuse on the bitch.

“She did this..for what? To get you back?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s over and taken care of. No one will be bothering you again,” his voice was stern even as he gently held her, “‘M sorry, honey. I shoulda been here.”

“You were doing your job.”

“My job is also takin’ care of my lady,” he kissed her forehead before pecking her lips, “Speaking of, you feel like lettin’ me take care of you? Put this fucked up mess out of both our minds?”

Her small smile made him smile, “I’d be okay with that. Show my appreciation for the man who’s willing to burn down a whole floor of Vought tower for me.”

Giggling wildly as he picked her up, Ben carried her to the bathroom for a shower. He set her down on the marble counter before walking over to flip on the water. After plucking the joint from between her fingers, he placed it between his lips and began to puff away as he took his suit off. She playfully turned her head to the side, admiring his chest and abs as he worked on his belt. A puff of smoke came out when he chuckled at her, “Enjoyin’ yourself?”

“Not yet,” she bit her lip.

He pulled the joint from his lips before dropping his pants, “You need a good ass spanking sometimes, ya know that?”

“And you’re more than happy to give me one,” she slipped out of her shirt and threw it at him.

The fabric hit his chest and fell to the marbled floor. Ben stepped over the discarded clothes, dick proudly at attention, to stand before her looking like a Greek god. He discarded the smoke in an ash tray by the sink before pulling her to the edge of the counter. She squealed happily and wrapped her arms around his strong neck. Their lips met in a sweet and passionate kiss, rough hands pawing at her hips and waist.

Ben moaned into her kiss. Fuck, he missed her. He had missed her lips, her touch, her cute little noises she makes when he bites right under her ear. They’d been separated longer than a week before, but the past events had him feeling anxious. An underlying worry that this shit show might have ruined a good thing.

“Need a stiff reminder of why I fell in love with you,” she giggled into his kiss which quickly turned to a moan.

His deep laugh reverberated against the bathroom walls, “Thought it was my sparkling personality and good looks?”

A smirk adorned her pretty lips as her hand traveled down and rubbed his hard on, “Don’t make me lie to you, stud.”

He playfully rolled his eyes before yanking her off the counter, spinning her around, and swatting her ass to watch it jiggle. She whimpered and arched her back at the pleasurable sting. Looking into the mirror, Ben towered over her with rippling muscles and hair hanging in his eyes. He looked like a sex god. Her sex god. A large hand trailed up her flushed body before wrapping around her throat. He leaned down, eyes never leaving hers, and growled in her ear before biting it. The shiver that ran down her spine made her arch her ass back into his hips, hard dick settling against her ass.

“Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. Seven days without seein’ that beautiful ‘o’ face was fuckin’ torture,” Ben groaned.

The grip on her neck shifted to lay his palm between her shoulder blades, pushing her down to bend over the marble. Her gaze never parted from his, even as he roughly pushed inside her. A pornographic sound that only he could elicit out of her fell from her lips. She stood on her tip toes and tried to push herself up at the uncomfortable stretch. A strong hand on her hip pulled her back onto his cock while the other bent her over again, “Nuh uh, get off your toes.”

“I-It’s too much, d-d-…,” she stopped herself when embarrassment sat in her stomach.

Ben kept her ass flush with his hips, lightly rutting against her causing her to whimper, “I know it is, baby. I gotta reshape this pussy every time I come back.”

She cried out when he roughly snapped his hips, “Fuck, daddy!”

“There it is. That so hard?” Ben chuckled into her ear as he leant over her.

The whole time they never broke eye contact. She’d fought the urge to roll her eyes into her head, the need to please and see him more important. She reached back and thread her fingers through his soft hair as he began a slow, powerful rhythm. Every thrust nearly knocked the air from her lungs. His animalistic moans and groans went directly into her ear, “You miss daddy? This fuckin’ pussy sure did.”

“Yes! Yes, daddy, I missed you so fucking much!” she cried.

“Push them hips back, darlin’. Show me how much you missed me,” he smirked as he sunk his teeth into her neck.

He broke the eye contact which gave her the go ahead for her eyes to disappear into her head, hips frantically meeting his. She begged for more in between pathetic moans. His smirk branded into her skin over his bite mark as he realized she had become cock drunk. “N-No one does i-it like you, daddy! M-More please, please!” she cried.

Ben looked back into the mirror when he felt her walls fluttering and getting tight around him. It only spurred him to fuck her harder, like a feral beast in rut. He watched her face contort in pure ecstasy as she climbed higher and higher towards gushing all over his cock. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful!” he moaned as he fucked her with a determination, “I fuckin’ love you! Love fuckin’ you, and I fuckin’ love you!”

“I love you too, Ben!”

“I’m yours, baby. You’re mine. So, I’m gonna put a baby in ya,” he growled as his large hand wrapped around her throat, “Want me to do that? I’d love to see a nice shot of you in the tabloids carrying my baby.”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” she choked out as she teetered on the edge.

His other hand snaked down and pinched her clit, and she came. The obscene sound of her release splashing on the bathroom floor filled the room. Ben didn’t stop. He kept going, pushing her first orgasm into another. Her body shook violently as the pleasure racked through her like she’d been electrocuted. A dark laugh fell from his lips when he felt her knees buckle and he had to hold her up, “Almost there, darlin’. Stay with me.” She could only weakly nod and moaned when his fingers flexed around her neck. Her brain was so fuzzy and fucked out.

Ben felt her legs trembling as he chased after his own high. It felt like the second his mind shifted to his own pleasure, the band snapped. He thrust his hips as deep as he could inside her and came with a loud roar. The feeling of him cumming inside her made her whine and whimper. “Right where it belongs!” he growled through gritted teeth.

Once his hips finally stilled, Ben slowly released her neck and saw a light bruise forming in the shape of his hand. He kissed the mark to try and coax her back to earth. A shudder went through her body beneath his when he pulled out. His spend began to leak out and onto her thighs. “I really rocked your world, didn’t I?” he smiled as he stepped back to look at the mess he made.

“You’re so full of yourself,” she panted.

“I wouldn’t talk when I’m literally drippin’ out of you,” he smiled as he leaned down to watch it.

Once he was done admiring his baby making juice seeping out, he stood up straight and helped her stand up to sweep her into his arms. She cuddled into his sweaty chest as he walked towards the still running shower. She wiggled in his grasp, “No, it’s gonna be cold now.”

Ben shook his head before stepping into the steam and still hot water, “One of the perks of being the top dog is the best amenities money can buy.”

Even after setting her down, she still cuddled into his chest and enjoyed his arms around her. He pet her hair lovingly before resting his chin on top of her head. A content sigh left his chest. A small kiss was placed over his heart. He’d done what he said. It felt like the entire scandal and events of the day were far away and far gone. He’d be damned if he’d let any of those vultures upset his woman like that again.

[sadnymi]

I love you, I’m sorry.

[Mattheo riddle x reader]

•Words: 3.7

•Warning : angst-anxiety-fluff.

The heavy thud of the door closing behind you echoed through the small flat, a sound that seemed to reverberate through the emptiness of your chest. You kicked off your shoes, not caring where they landed, and stumbled into your room. Your head swirled with the echoes of the interview panel's cold words: "You're not ready." "You should work on yourself." "Your anxiety makes it difficult to see you in this role."

The sting of those words felt sharper with every step you took. You sank down onto the floor the moment you reached your bed, your back pressing against the chipped wooden frame as the tears came, unstoppable. Hot and unrelenting, they poured down your cheeks, your breaths coming in shallow, erratic gasps as if the air itself had turned against you.

You felt like a failure—to yourself, to your family. They had been so proud when you graduated, certain you’d find your place in the world. But instead, you were here, stuck, unable to move forward. The thought of their disappointed faces made your stomach twist. You clutched your arms tightly around yourself, as though holding your own body together could stop the sharp ache radiating from within.

The sobs came harder now, a raw, guttural sound tearing from your throat as the despair fully took hold. It wasn’t just the failed interviews, though they were enough to crack anyone. It was the suffocating loneliness that wrapped itself around you like a second skin. It was the nagging thought that you were useless, that everyone who had ever believed in you had been wrong. You pressed your forehead against your knees, your breaths shallow and quick, your chest tightening to the point of pain. For a moment, you genuinely felt like you couldn’t breathe, like the weight of your own existence was crushing you.

Your tear-filled eyes roamed aimlessly, desperate for something to anchor yourself, when they landed on the edge of a wooden box poking out from beneath your bed. The sight of it pierced through the haze of anguish, stopping you cold. You wiped at your face with trembling hands, sniffling as you reached forward and dragged the box into the light.

You stared at it, your fingers hesitating on the lid. You hadn’t opened it in so long, not since you shoved it under the bed on your first night back from Hogwarts. But you knew exactly what was inside. This was where you had hidden everything—every letter, every photograph, every fragment of a life you had tried to forget. A life that included him.

Every piece inside belonged to him—letters folded in his messy handwriting, scraps of notes passed between classes, a familiar hoodie you’d stolen from him one night after a party, a forgotten tie he’d wrapped around your wrist one summer night when he joked about marking you as his.

Your trembling fingers brushed over a photograph of the two of you ,you were laughing in the picture, and he was staring at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky.

The ache in your chest tightened.

You remembered how he lied to you, how he swore it was to protect you, but it hadn’t mattered. You’d told him how much you hated liars, how much their betrayals gutted you, yet he’d hidden the truth anyway.

He’d found his father’s diary—the relic of a dark legacy he was desperate to escape. He’d told no one, not even you, and when you’d discovered it, it felt like every fear you’d ever had about him came crashing down. He’d been protecting you, yes, but he’d also betrayed the fragile trust you’d built.

You grabbed the hoodie, It was his scent that hit you first, faint and faded but still undeniably him. You clutched the hoodie to your chest, your body trembling as a sob tore through you. Pulling it over your head, you sank to the floor again, letting the fabric drown you in the warmth you’d once felt in his arms.

Even after everything, even knowing he’d chosen you over the darkness of his family, you had left him. You left because looking at him reminded you of every betrayal, every lie you’d ever endured. He’d chosen you, but you couldn’t handle the weight of his choices, the scars they left on him and you. You couldn’t stay, even when you needed him more than anything even when he needed you more than anything .

He chosen you he fight his father he stand with the people who hate him since he was a child and proved them all wrong.

"I did it for you," he had said, voice broken and desperate the night you walked away. "I’ve always done it for you."

And yet, you left. You had to.

Now, sitting in the remnants of what you’d once been together, the pain in your chest was unbearable. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. You had to get out.

you left the house. The rain was relentless, cold and sharp as it soaked through your clothes, but you didn’t care. You didn’t take an umbrella, didn’t even glance back at the house. You just walked, aimless at first, the streets blurring around you as the tears mixed with the rain.

But you knew where you were going. You always did.

You’d asked Theo once, offhandedly, where Mattheo lived now. He’d told you.

You had no right to show up there, no right to reopen wounds that had barely begun to heal, but your feet carried you forward anyway.

When you reached his house, your heart pounded so hard it drowned out the rain. You stood at the gate, soaked and trembling, staring at the door as if it might open on its own. Taking a shaky breath, you pressed the button for the intercom, the static buzzing in your ear as you tried to find the words.

"Mattheo," you said, your voice cracking. "This is Y/N. Can... can you..." The words died in your throat, and you clenched your fists. "No. Forget it." You stepped back, shaking your head, your tears blending with the rain.

But you couldn’t leave. You turned back, pressing the button again, your voice desperate now. "Mattheo, please. Can you open the door? I just—I just want to see you."

Nothing.

You pressed the button a third time, your voice breaking completely. "I know I shouldn’t be here. I know I left, and I hurt you. But I—I couldn’t stop thinking —— just please, Mattheo. Just—just let me see you."

The silence on the other end felt deafening. You thought you might collapse right there, your chest tight and your heart threatening to shatter. He didn’t want to see you. He wasn’t going to open the door.

You turned to leave, your steps heavy and reluctant as you walked back down the path.

Then you saw him.

He was just getting out of a car, his movements freezing when his eyes landed on you. His name was on your lips, but no sound came out. You stopped in your tracks, drenched and trembling, staring at him as he stared back.

"Y/N," he whispered, he looked at you like you were a ghost, his dark eyes scanning your tear-streaked face, your shaking frame. "What the hell...?"

He dropped whatever he was holding and walked toward you. "What are you doing here? You're soaked. You're—"

"I..." Your voice broke, and the words stuck in your throat. "I didn’t know where else to go."

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you saw the storm of emotions behind his eyes—anger, worry, confusion, and something softer, something that made your heart ache even more.

He sighed, running a hand down his face before stepping closer. "Come inside," he said finally, his voice softer now, though the tension remained.

When you hesitated, he frowned. "Y/N, you’re soaked. You’ll get sick."

His hand brushed your arm, sending a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the rain.

The moment he closed the door behind you, his sharp eyes immediately landed on the hoodie you were wearing—_his hoodie._ His jaw tightened, and his gaze flickered with something unreadable before he drew in a breath.

"I’m going to need you to take that off," he said, "You’re soaked, and you’re shaking. I’ll grab you something else to wear."

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was already moving

You stood frozen, still clutching the edges of the hoodie like a lifeline as he returned with a thick, soft blanket and a dry sweater. He didn’t look at you directly as he placed them on the back of a chair. "Take the hoodie off," he said again, softer this time. "You’ll catch pneumonia like this."

You hesitated, and he sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "Y/N, I’m serious. Change into this and sit by the fire. I’ll make some tea or... something."

He walked away, his shoulders stiff, leaving you to do as he asked. When he returned, a steaming mug in one hand and a towel slung over his arm, you had swapped the hoodie for the sweater he’d left. He stopped short when he saw you curled up near the fire, your knees pulled to your chest. His expression softened, but his walls remained up.

"Better?" he asked, crouching beside you and placing the mug on the table.

You nodded, though your trembling hands gave you away. He reached for the towel, pausing for a moment before gently patting your hair dry. His movements were careful, deliberate, as if touching you might shatter you—or him.

"You shouldn’t have come out in the rain like that," he said, his tone low and even, though there was a flicker of something raw in his eyes. "What were you thinking?"

"I wasn’t," you admitted, your voice cracking. "I just... I needed to see you."

He stilled, his hand lingering near your shoulder before pulling away entirely. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to say something, but he stopped himself.

"Do you remember… second year? When you found me crying in the Astronomy Tower after I got a C in my Transfiguration exam?"

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I remember."

"I’d been trying so hard," you said, the words tumbling out in a fragile rush. "I was so scared of disappointing everyone—my professors, my parents. But you… you just sat with me. You didn’t say anything at first, and then you started telling me about the time you nearly set your own robes on fire in Charms class."

A ghost of a smile flickered across his face, so faint you almost missed it. "I still have the scorch marks on this tie somewhere."

The silence stretched between you after your confession, the only sounds in the room coming from the rain hammering against the windows and the soft crackle of the fire. Mattheo’s gaze stayed fixed on the floor.

You looked at him, your throat tightening. "That’s what you did, Mattheo. You were always there for me. Always knew what to say, what to do to make me feel like I wasn’t drowning."

The words hung in the air, fragile and heavy at the same time. His face darkened, and his jaw clenched.

"And I wasn’t there for you," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Not when it mattered. Not when you needed me."

Mattheo stood abruptly, the motion sharp and full of barely contained anger. He paced a few steps away, his hands raking through his hair before he turned back to you, his eyes blazing.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Y/N?" he demanded, his voice low but filled with a fury that.

"I—"

"No," he interrupted, his tone sharper now. "Why are you here? After everything? After _you_ left, after you tore me apart and acted like I was nothing to you?"

"Mattheo, please," you whispered, tears streaming down your face.

"No!" he snapped. "You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to show up out of nowhere, wearing my hoodie, dredging up memories, and—" His voice cracked, and he turned away, raking his hands through his hair.

You flinched at his words, your breath hitching. "I—I don’t know," you admitted, tears pooling in your eyes. "I was hurt too!"

His jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "You were hurt?" he snapped, his voice rising. "You left, Y/N. You fucking _left_. When I needed you most, you walked away. Do you know what that did to me? Do you have any idea how it felt? to lose you—too?"

"Do you even know what it felt like Mattheo? Thinking you betrayed me? Thinking you were just like everyone else who lied, who hid things from me? I thought you were protecting them—not me. And it broke me, Mattheo. It broke everything I thought we had."

He froze, his chest rising and falling heavily, but his expression didn’t soften.

His jaw tightened, his knuckles turning white as his fists clenched at his sides. "You think I wasn’t broken too?" he snapped. "I _lost everything,_ Y/N. My family, my name—everything. And I didn’t care, because I chose _you_. And you left anyway"

Your heart shattered at his words, but you forced yourself to speak. "I was scared! I didn’t know how to stay, Mattheo. I thought—I thought I’d just make everything worse."

His laugh was bitter, cutting through you like a knife. "You did," he said coldly. "You made everything worse by running away."

“I felt like I was responsible for your pain,” you said, choking on the words. “Your choice, your loss—it felt like my fault. And I didn’t know how to deal with that. I didn’t know how to face you without seeing everything I thought I’d destroyed.”

“Do you hear yourself? You left because _you_ couldn’t deal with _my_ pain? That’s rich, Y/N. Real fucking rich.”

“You have every right to hate me,” you said, your voice breaking. “I was wrong. God, I was so wrong. But it’s happened, Mattheo. And somehow, I’m still here, breathing, hurting. I look at myself, and I see everything I’ve ruined. Look at me.” You gestured to yourself, tears streaming down your face. “Look at how fucked up I am. I wasn’t strong enough to stay, and now I’m barely holding it together. It’s like some fucked-up punishment, but I deserve it.”

He stared at you, his expression hard, unmoving.

“You think this is about you deserving punishment?” he said, his voice laced with venom. “You think your guilt makes this better for me?

“Stop,” you whispered, your voice trembling as his words stabbed deeper. “Mattheo, stop—”

“No, you don’t get to tell me to stop,” he shot back. “You don’t get to show up out of nowhere and act like you care now.”

“I love you!” you cried, the words ripping from your throat. “I love you, Mattheo. I always have, and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

He froze, his chest heaving, his fists clenched at his sides. For a moment, you thought he might say something—might give you even a sliver of hope.

“Do you?” you whispered, your voice breaking as you met his eyes. “Do you still love me, Mattheo?”

The silence stretched between you, unbearable, suffocating. He looked at you, his breathing uneven, his jaw tight. The seconds dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity.

Finally, he spoke, his voice cold and distant. “You can stay the night. You can’t go out in the rain like that and leave tomorrow.”

And then he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, staring after him.

You watched him disappear down the hall, his silhouette swallowed by the shadows of the house. Your gaze drifted to the fireplace, the flickering flames casting a dull glow on the room.

You couldn’t stay. Not when he wouldn’t look at you, not when his words sliced through you like a blade, leaving wounds that felt too raw to ever heal. The fire crackled behind you as you stood by the door, frozen for a moment, before you gripped the handle and twisted it.

The rain greeted you with an icy embrace, drenching you instantly as you stepped outside. It poured relentlessly, soaking through your clothes and clinging to your skin as you stumbled down the path, your tears mingling with the rain.

Each step felt heavier than the last, your chest tightening with every sob that ripped through you. The cold bit at your skin, but it was nothing compared to the ache that clawed at your heart.

The rain blurred your vision, or maybe it was your tears. It didn’t matter. You didn’t care where you were going. You only knew that you couldn’t stay.

“You’re leaving again?”

The voice shattered the storm, sharp and rough, cutting through the pounding rain and your spiraling thoughts.

You stopped dead in your tracks, your breath catching as you turned. There he was, standing a few paces behind you, his hair drenched, his chest heaving, his eyes burning with something you couldn’t name. Anger? Hurt? Desperation?

“You can’t just show up to leave again,” he said, his voice tight, low, and trembling with restraint as he stepped toward you.

“You told me to leave,” you choked out, your voice trembling as your tears spilled freely. “It doesn’t mattering it’s now or tomorrow.”

“Fuck, it does,” he snapped, running a hand through his wet hair as the rain continued to pour. “It does, Y/N.”

“What are you even saying?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rain, breaking under the weight of his words.

Mattheo took another step forward, his eyes blazing despite the rain streaking his face. He was trembling, not from the cold but from something far more volatile, far more vulnerable.

“Ask me again,” he said.

You blinked, your breath hitching. “What?”

“Ask me again, Y/N,” he demanded, his tone a mixture of desperation and fury. “Ask me if I still love you.”

Your heart stopped, the weight of his words hitting you like a tidal wave. You opened your mouth to respond, but no sound came out.

“Go on,” he urged, his voice breaking now. “Fucking ask me, Y/N.”

“Do you… do you still love me?” you finally whispered, the words fragile, trembling like you were.

He didn’t answer. Not with words.

His hands grabbing your waist as he pulled you to him with a force that stole your breath. The kiss came hard and fast, his lips colliding with yours like he’d been starving for this moment. His hands were everywhere—cupping your face, gripping your waist, pulling you closer as though he could fuse your bodies together and make up for all the time you’d lost.

You gasped against his lips, your hands clutching at his shirt, desperate to hold onto something solid as he kissed you like his life depended on it. The rain poured harder, drenching you both, but you couldn’t feel the cold anymore—not with the heat of his lips, the way his tongue slid against yours, the way his hands gripped you like he was terrified you’d disappear again.

“Mattheo,” you whispered against his lips, but he didn’t let you finish.

“Don’t,” he muttered, as he broke the kiss just long enough to lift you off your feet. His hands slid to the backs of your thighs, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He pulled you tighter against him, his lips finding yours again, this time slower but no less desperate.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was everything. Every word unsaid, every tear shed, every moment of longing you’d both endured. He kissed you like he was pouring every ounce of pain, anger, and love he’d carried into you, as though he could make you feel just how much he still wanted you, needed you.

“I hate you for leaving,” he murmured against your lips, his voice raw, breaking with emotion. “But fuck, I love you too much to let you go again.”

“I’m sorry,” you gasped, tears mingling with the rain as you clung to him, your fingers tangling in his wet hair. “I’m so sorry, Mattheo.”

His forehead pressed against yours, both of you breathing hard as the rain continued to pour, but neither of you cared.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Reading While Cockwarming Them

Warnings: MDNI, PIV, general sex, teasing, some name calling and sadism in Geto's part. A/n: Found an old WIP that I half wrote then gave up on because I couldn't find the inspiration. I'm glad I got back into it because I almost feel like my JJK writing has become rusty nowadays, and I'm thrilled to find some ideas that might still feel new.

The book is open on the bed, right under your pretty, flushed face as you kneel on all fours, Satoru’s cock nestled comfortably in your slick pussy. 

Your mouth is moving, and you see the little black characters on the page, but your speech is slurred and syrupy as you try to form intelligible sounds. 

“The…he-he-ro…isn…ways…to…”

“What’s that baby?” Satoru taunts as he slides out of your drooling cunt, all patience and sweet smiles. He feels how your walls clench in protest as you try to keep him in, his tip almost out of your tight, wet, hole.

“Toru please…” you whine, knowing his enticing length was right there, but he was getting off on seeing you swallow your words. Determination that had been ample in hand at the beginning of this session had now gone flying out the window. You just had to insist that Satoru couldn’t fuck you dumb with his cock, denying his claims, and now you’re forced to swallow your pride as you realize you can’t focus on a damn thing. The letters all look like squiggles to you and your tongue refuses to cooperate, only allowing you to pant and babble nonsense.

“You’re the one that said you would read me a bedtime story.” He arches his hips away from you as he feels you lift your ass, hoping to slip him back in. “And so far I can’t understand a word you’re saying. I’m hoping this helps.”

You moan in frustration and try to focus your hazed mind on the print. “The hero isn’t always right. As told in the story we’re about to embark on-” Your breath hitches as Satoru glides back into your warmth as you started to read. The hot length of his cock spreads you apart so invitingly messing with your head.

“Oh don’t feel like you have to stop on my account sweetheart. Keep going. Just testing how deep I need to go before you start going dumb again.” Not very deep based on his observations. He’s barely halfway sheathed and your speech had already become halting and incorrigible. He slips out slightly and you clear your throat trying to not to sob and admit defeat. 

“Our story takes place in a time of old and ooohhh…” The sensual groan leaves you unrestrained as he pushes further in.

“Hmm so about three fourths of the way,” Satoru muses, looking at how much of him was buried inside you. “Keep reading. Trying to fine tune this pussy. I was promised a bedtime story.”

He starts to thrust slowly, letting you feel each inch of him as he withdraws before sliding back in, never bottoming out and leaving you aching with the knowledge that you're only half full. You're not even trying to focus on the words now, just moaning and knowing you'll likely have to let him win if you wanted anything tonight. 

“Satoru please…” You whine as he starts to drag his fingers along your moist slit, finding your bud and circling it expertly. 

“Aw. No bedtime story for me tonight?” he asks mockingly as he draws out a moan from you. You shake your head and he grins triumphantly. “Next time then. We'll train your pussy to not disconnect from your brain.”

Kento can’t stand the thought of not having physical intimacy. Cockwarming was his way of reconnecting, of being able to touch you, feel your soft skin and the warmth of your body, even if he was too tired for sex. 

The bed is so inviting, and your back rests against his chest as his cock pulses with life inside you. Warm sheets are wrapped around your bodies as you sit on his thighs with a book on your lap. Kento's chin rests on your shoulder as you read, his eyes tracking the words as the story flows from your lips, his breath tickling your neck. The atmosphere in the room is almost balmy as his hands massage yours, fingers molding to the spaces in between. Your pussy occasionally clenches around his velvety cock, enjoying the way he filled and stretched the space inside. 

“Are you paying attention?” You tease and pat his cheek to draw his attention back to the story. His large hands had started to wander from yours and were flirting with your ribcage, cradling your breasts in his palms and squeezing enticingly. After a long day, the massage felt more relaxing than arousing and you indulge him for a moment before asking again. “Kento…the story.”

“I am paying attention darling. It looks like our protagonist accidentally discovered something he wasn’t supposed to.” He thumbs your nipples, which had already pebbled from the squeezing, through the sheets and you throw your head back onto his shoulder, biting your lip and letting out a hushed sigh. Your juices had steadily dripped from your core and were pooling at the base of his cock, leaving a ring of wetness on his hard shaft.

“Are you sleepy?” Kento’s lips ghost the shell of your ear and you mumble a tired yes. His chuckle resonates in your ear, deep and rich, and he takes the book away and places it on the nightstand. “It’s all right,” he reassures you as he starts to lay you both down on the bed. “We can find out what happens tomorrow.” He rearranges the sheets while you settle your head down comfortably on the pillow. Sleep overtakes you quickly but you can feel Kento pressing little kisses down your neck.

“Do you mind…?” He whispers, and your half-awake brain manages to slur a yes. You knew what he was asking, and you honestly didn’t mind. His snug cock thrusts ever so sweetly inside you as he tries not to rouse you too much from sleep, breathing steadily into your hair as he tries to orgasm.

The slick heat from being inside you for so long helps in his efforts, lazily stroking your inner walls at an unhurried pace. Your languid body barely stirs as he sets up a deliciously slow pace, quiet squelches issuing from your pussy as he rocks his hips against your ass. He bites his lip as he nears his climax, letting out a muffled groan as his hot cum is released into your warm canal. 

“Darling…focus…” His clever fingers which were playing with your pulsing clit halt, and his cock, snug in your pussy, remains there, barely providing any friction. You whine and look at him pleadingly but he tuts at you, waving the little study booklet in front of your face. “Can you repeat what I was saying?”

Why had you agreed to let him help you study for the bar? Your lawyer boyfriend, so sinfully handsome and smart, was obviously worried about your progress. He accused you of getting too distracted, and the solution was to force you to study with nothing but distractions, hoping to improve your recall abilities. 

What he hadn’t specified was that it would involve sitting on your bed with his cock stuffed in your pussy  while you straddled him, repeating little vocabulary definitions and basic terms of law. Your poor, sloppy, pussy couldn’t stop dribbling, spilling all over him, as you tried to recall the words.

He smirks at your hazy expression, seeing your mind trying to gather itself back into a cohesive state. “Well?” he prompts you again. “Can you explain the concept of intent for this?”

“Ah…” your mind is fuzzy as your walls clench around his cock, still hard inside you. How long had he been doing this? “Mmm…intent…matters because…” Because why? Why did it matter? All that mattered was fucking. Fucking him, riding him, getting filled to the brim with his seed. 

“Tsk. Oh honey. You're never going to pass the bar at this rate.” His hands firmly hook themselves underneath your fleshy thighs. “Now repeat after me.”

He begins to pick up your frame, easing you off his cock before loosening his hands and letting you fall back into his throbbing erection with force, your ass cheeks slapping his thighs as you slide down all the way to his base. 

"It. matters. because. The. Mental. state. Of. a. client. Affects. Our. Ability. To. Prove their. Innocence.”

Each word is punctuated with his hands picking you up and letting you slide, the sound of your ass pounding back into his lap echoing through the room. Each time, the bulbous, mushroom head of his cock kisses your cervix and you swear you're seeing stars each time. You sob each time, your cunt squelching as it takes him all the way in, desperate for an orgasm that wasn't likely to happen. 

“Hiro… Please… Need to cum… study later…”

“You'll never improve if you can't study through the distractions.” His eyes are hooded and dark, barely able to restrain himself from wanting to fuck your brains out until you're spilling all over his thighs. Oh the sight of you, struggling to remember basic words, thoughts too occupied with his cock to remember even the most basic concepts relating to your job. 

“Tell ya what. I'll give you a scenario. If you can explain intent based on that I'll give you an orgasm. How's that?”

You look at him hopefully, still shivering from the intensity of his last movements, and nod. 

“Explain the intent behind a young woman who invites her boyfriend over to help her study for the bar but decides to answer the door in just her underwear.”

Oh the bastard. Feeling your patience snap you admit your motive.

“Clearly she wanted to get fucked nice and good but her boyfriend is a naive moron who really thought she wanted to go over flashcards.” 

“You’ve got the flash part down spectacularly darling.” Hiromi fondles your nipples and you whine, your cunt clenching around him like a vice. 

“Hiro please…”

“I suppose I could count that as an acceptable answer. Nice work.” He spanks your ass in appreciation. “Admission of guilt always helps. Now show me how you plan to alleviate it.”

Your boyfriend was mean. You hadn’t really noticed it until just now. He was more of the type to tease you than anything else. Until you had suggested reading to him while sitting on his cock. 

For some reason, you had assumed he was going to be sweet about it. You hadn’t anticipated how hard he would make this for you. Your lips tremble and you’re a quivering mess as you hold up the book with shaky hands. Tears streak your cheeks as you try again, feeling Suguru’s thumb relentlessly playing with your clit, depriving you of just enough stimulation to keep you focused. 

“T-t-t-the for-forest i-is the…” You wet your lips trying to concentrate. “The fas-test way to the…hi-hi-hidden-”

“Too slow.” You squeal as Geto spanks your already swollen clit, the sting bringing back clarity to your senses. “I thought you were better than this. Are you so fucked out on my cock that you’re taking an hour to read a sentence?” The harsh slap of his hand on your wet folds makes them pulse and you squirm, and you close your legs to avoid the reprimand.

“Tsk. You really are a dumb whore right now.” A cry leaves your lips as he harshly pinches your nipple, twisting it cruelly. “Who told you to close your legs? You seemed pretty confident when spreading them open for me earlier.” Sniffing, you reluctantly part your legs and then let out a noise of discomfort as he slaps the little bud again. 

“Suguru…” you whimper pathetically only to have him roughly rub your clit again.

“Suguru.” He mimics in a high-pitched mocking tone. “What, you thought I would sit here all night while you take your sweet time? You haven’t even finished a page yet. Your cunt is going to be as empty as your brain if you don’t get it together.”

You whine and try again. “The solder…wanted to raid the amry… to get a sard- OUCH!” Suguru gave you a truly hard whack that sent you reeling, a confusing haze of pain and pleasure running through your body like an electric shock.

“What was that? Are you sure that’s even a word?” Slap. “Solder?” Slap. “Amry?” Slap. “Sard?” Slap. “The words are soldier, armory, and sword you stupid slut.” Each spank to your clit is punctuated with a yelp of pain from you. 

“Suguru! I’m sorry please-!” 

He pulls the book from your grip and tosses it aside. “This is why little whores shouldn’t try to brag about talents they don’t possess. Now why don’t you showcase the only real skill you have and cum on my cock like the desperate little cocksleeve you know you are?”

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@aether-seawolf @makingtimemine @snwvie @facelessfionna

@theimmortalbuns @sweets-kozume @supernaturalbaesduh

@marusatonanhin @pwd54gr54 @brekkersgf

[moody-alcoholic]

On a Wing and a Prayer

Part 3 - The First 24 Hours

This 'short' dribble is getting out of control. Also reader is a medic now... I have a thing for medical dramas.. CW: PTSD, mental health, panic attacks, little bit of comfort.

Previous parts - masterlist - next

You don’t want to stay in the med-bay. You want to get out of the sterile room to somewhere you feel comfortable. Which is hard to find while you’re still stuck on a base. You go to your room trying to ignore and avoid as many people as you can. 

You catch people whispering out the corner of your eyes, there’s probably not been anything this interesting happening in months. It’s not everyday special forces turn on one of their own, it’s not everyday they torture one of their own. 

You make it back to your room. It’s just the way you left it. Now it feels empty. 

There would be times when you would come back from a long day of training to find Simon laid on your bed with a cigarette between his lips, or Johnny sitting crossed legged with a book ready to talk your ear off about his day. 

That’s never going to happen again, you never want them in your space again. When you make it over to the bed you see a letter with your name on it. You recognise the handwriting it’s John’s. You don’t want to open it, your eyes go to the trash bin in the corner of your room. That's the only place it belongs. 

Your curiosity gets the better of you though. 

You sit down picking it up, your hands shaking, you’re holding your breath as you open it. You don’t even make it past the first line of the word vomit apology before you don’t want to read it any more. There is no use in them trying to reconcile with you. You fold it closed. Simon’s lighter is still there on the crate you turned into a bedside table. You pick it up, it makes you mad. 

You hate them, you hate what they put you through. You thought they loved you. You thought they would be on your side believing everything you said. Instead they hurt you, over and over for days. You found out from Kyle it had been 4 days. It felt longer. 

You bring the lighter up to the letter and set it on fire. You hold it in your hand watching as the flames disintegrate it into nothing. You drop it on the floor when it's about to reach your fingers and stamp it out. The knock at your door makes you jump. Your heart is pounding in your chest. 

“It’s me.” Kyle calls. You walk over opening it. He smiles at you but you don’t smile back. 

“He’s awake. He’s asking for you.” Kyle says. You let out a sigh of relief. He made it, thank god he made it. You follow Kyle in silence back to the med-bay. You walk past the room you slept in last night. Well slept wasn’t really the right word. Everytime you close your eyes, you're back in that room, with the snakes and the water. Two hours you think you go in total, spent the rest of the night having panic attacks until a nurse found you sobbing in a corner. 

The doctor wants you to speak to a psychiatrist. ‘Yeah? So I can be discharged? I want to work.’ That was met with sighs and a prescription for sleeping pills. Kyle stops just outside Johnny’s room. He turns to you and sighs.

“John and Simon are already here.” He says, it makes your stomach twist. You haven’t seen them since you left the room. You don’t want to see them, but you want to see Johnny. 

“It’s okay.” You lie. Kyle sighs again, you can tell by the expression on his face he’s sorry. 

“They don’t want to tell Johnny about what happened. They’re worried it will upset him. He’s only just woke up, the doctors want to give him a few days. Make sure he’s stable.”  

“Is that the doctor's decision on John’s?” You snap. You’re mad, you don’t want to lie to Johnny. Kyle doesn’t answer, instead he presses his lips together running his hand over his head. You sigh looking into the room, you can see John and Simon stood by the bed blocking your view of Johnny. 

It doesn’t matter who said it, they're right. Johnny needs rest, he needs to recover, he’s been in a coma for almost a week any stress could be dangerous. 

“I won’t say anything.” You say letting out a breath. Kyle smiles and reaches forward to grab your hand. You move it away so he can’t crossing your arms instead. You have to calm down or it’s going to be harder than it already is. 

Kyle walks in the room and you follow after. You try not to look at them but you can’t help it. Luckily Johnny pulls your attention away.

“Where have you been hiding lass? I thought you'd never leave my side!” He calls as you make it round to the other side of the bed and hug him. He groans in pain as he leans forward. You hope he can’t feel how hard your heart is beating. 

 “We were worried, for a while it looked like you weren't going to make it.” Kyle says as you break away from the hug. 

“Pff, not when I have the best medic in the world looking after me.” He says winking at you and grabbing your hand. You squeeze it tight and force a smile at him. It feels unnatural, it feels wrong, everything about this feels wrong. 

“What happened?” He asks suddenly, his eyes creasing together, his face going dark. You’re holding your breath, it feels like everyone in the room is holding their breath. He holds your hand up. You still have the hospital tag on. Shit. Panic rises in you. You don’t know what to do. You open your mouth to speak but words don’t come out.

“She hit her head.” Kyle says. You let out a sigh of relief as his hand finds the small of your back. 

“They wanted to keep me in for observation.” You follow up hoping he can’t hear the shaking in your voice. You look up at John and Simon, the colour drained from their faces. Simon clears his throat and Johnny turns to look at him. It gives you a second to squeeze your eyes shut and wish you were anywhere else. 

“You been pushing her too hard again?” Johnny asks Simon tutting. 

“Only what she can handle.” Simon says, it sounds cold in your ears. You feel sick bile rises in your stomach. You need to leave, your hand is sweaty, you pull it away from Johnny. You’re glad Kyle’s hand is on your back because without it you think you might pass out. 

“I have to go. Got this new rota that's kicking my ass.” You say trying to keep your voice level. It sounds so unnatural. You swallow trying to get the lump forming in your throat to go away but it wont. “I’ll come see you later. I promise.” You back up from the bed as Johnny looks confused. 

You can’t be here. You almost want to sprint out the room but you keep your calm walking out normally. When you leave and close the door behind you, that's when you run. 

______

You’re standing outside the washroom with a towel and a toothbrush in your hand. You want to take a shower scrub the layer of grease that's formed on your skin. You tried, you tried to take a shower in the hospital, the water brings flashbacks. Great, now you’re afraid of water. 

You have to get it together, if you can’t you’ll be sent home on leave, or worse discharged. You want to work, you enjoy work. Maybe not the people you work with but you’ve already thought about a transfer. You doubt John will have any issues with that, and if he does well there are always people above him. 

“Hey.” Kyle calls making you jump. He frowns coming towards you. “Didn’t see you at dinner, is everything okay?” It looks like he already regrets that question, no nothing is okay. Everything sucks and all you want to do is take a shower. 

“I want a shower.” You say looking back at the door. 

“Is someone in there? I can kick them out.” he offers, you sigh, shaking your head. He seems to get it and you hear him sigh. He steps up next to you putting his hand on your back. 

“I can help,” he says. You shake your head forcing yourself to be strong as your lip quivers. You have to try and do this alone. Your knuckles turn white as you grip your toothbrush as hard as you can. 

“I’ll watch the door, make sure no one comes in.” He says rubbing your back. You smile at him and nod, stepping into the room before you change your mind completely. 

The place smells damp as the automatic lights flicker on. It’s only been you and the rest of 141 using this space so their stuff is everywhere. You start to realise things about the room you didn’t even see before. It’s windowless, there’s a loud hum of vents. The place smells of aftershave and soap. 

You walk over to one of the showers, hanging your towel over the half wall. You’re stripping your clothes before you can stop yourself. This feels like a routine, showering in the freezing base showers only this time the thought of turning the showers on makes you feel sick.

You keep telling yourself you can do this, repeating the mantra in your head if only to keep your mind occupied. You’ve been taught how to deal with PTSD and triggers, what's the best way to help, or stave them away. You don’t have PTSD, you remind yourself. You’re just going through a rough patch.

As soon as you can get away from 141 and have a good night's sleep you’ll feel better. And now Johnny’s awake, that's one less thing to worry about. You reach over and twist the hot tap on. The water hits your arm and you pull it back like you’ve just been burned. 

You can do this. It’s just a shower. Kyle’s watching the door. No one can hurt you. 

You suck in a deep breath and stick your leg in, the water is surprisingly hot for once. That’s good, it will make things easier. One step at a time. Your hand and arm go in next, your breathing picks up, goosebumps rise on the parts of your body still exposed to the air. Now you’re shaking. 

You let out a long breath forcing yourself to move into the water. You turn letting it run down your back in an attempt to get the shaking to stop. It doesn’t work. Now you’re frozen you can’t move. You try to focus on getting your breathing to steady but it’s not working. You have nothing to distract yourself with. 

You force your eyes closed, that just makes things worse. Fear rises in you, you don’t know why but your head tips back. As soon as the water hits your face it’s like you don’t know where you are anymore. You’re not in the showers, you're back in the room. The water drowns out any sound in your ears. You don’t know what’s happening anymore.

The next thing you know you’re on the floor, your head throbs. There’s commotion, a noise you don’t recognise and footsteps. You open your eyes with a sob as tears escape. You turn, you must have slipped, Kyle is turning the shower off. He picks up your towel and comes over to you, bending down and wrapping it around you. He doesn’t say anything, just kneels down on the wet floor pulling you into his arms. 

You sob in his arms as he holds you tight. You get it all out, all the tears you’ve been avoiding over the last 24 hours. Maybe this is what you needed: a good cry. 

Kyle doesn’t let you go. Eventually he starts rocking you, stroking your hair, kissing the top of your head. He tells you everything will be okay. You want to believe him, you so badly want to leave this room and everything will be magically better. 

It won’t be though, and it won’t be for a very long time. 

As you calm down and your body stops shaking, anger burns in you. This should never have happened to you. Especially not by the people you love. You hate them, you never want to see them again. Kyle notices your change in body language and silently helps you to your feet. 

He walks you across to your room, closing the door behind him. 

“Want me to stay?” he asks as he helps you over to your bed. You nod looking up at him, he strokes your cheek smiling. “I’ll be back in a second.” He says going to leave the room. 

You don’t want to be alone, not right now. Maybe with Kyle here you can get some sleep. Or maybe it will be worse, right now you’ll try anything. You look over at Simon's lighter still sitting on the crate. You pick it up, turning it over in your hand before dropping it in the trash.

You never want to see them again.

next

I could have kept going. I don't know when to stop... This is what happens when my main fic is on hold. I need a million projects or I get bored XD Banners by firefly-graphics

[queenie-the-court-jester]

break up with your boyfriend

Yandere trans!fem cheerleader x fem reader

It was so shittily made but I need to pump out more fics or else my blog will die. Thank you all for 1k followers though! I'll rewrite this in the future maybe

Tw: mentions of blackmailing, nsfw, slight breeding kink, batshit crazy girlfriend,not proofread, another oc mentioned!?🌺

💄Eva saccharine has been your girlfriend since she first started transitioning. You helped her style her hair, do her nails, pick her clothes, find good makeup, anything she needed to feel like the real her. So when freshman year rolled in, it came as no surprise to you she fit right in with the clique.

💐Ofcourse you had your fears she'd choose them over you but that wasn't the case, because she'd make you eat lunch with them and sit on her lap, not so subtly humping your ass while talking all about cheer practice

🛍️boys wanted to date her, girls wanted to be her. She just wanted you, to just be the two baddest bitches on the block. It didn't matter if you were just like her or the complete opposite, she gushed over you. Praising you for being her good girl, her sweet little princess, her obedient pocket pussy-

💄but at this current moment? She was busy bullying your insides, forcing her fat cock into your slippery hole as she held you steady by your waist. Biting and groaning everytime she'd feel you squeeze that certain spot on her dick

"fu-uuckkk.. baby cakes, 'yer squeezin' me so goood.. ah.. hah.. you wouldn't mind if I pumped a few babes into your tight cunny right? Wanna be my baby mama?"

💐that made you squeeze tighter, holding onto the bedsheets for dear life. She had you face down, ass up and damn near breaking your back with how hard she was going. Hearing the normally composed and playful eva turn into a drooling pussy-drunk mess had you feeling butterflies, just going plap play plap-

🛍️let's just say, by the end of it, you couldn't walk for days afterwards. But no amount of hickies and perfume would be able to scare away a rather persistent guy. He was on the football team, star quarterback, rich asshole. sam white. Eva hated his guts, he thinks he can just waltz in and steal her bitch? Not on her watch.

💄this little feud had been going on for a while, and more times than you could count you've been caught in the crossfire. Though it was kinda funny, seeing them screeching insults at eachother and bickering. Eva would sassily flick her blonde hair and grab you by the collar of your neck, Dragging you away while Sam hooted and hollered at your retreating form

💐you never questioned her morbid fascination with anything horror or paranormal related. She was just obsessed with regular girl things. wanting you to help her summon a demon once, but you aren't that stupid, making blood pacts with them could result in very unsavory ending's and you quite cherished your soul and body

🛍️Eva has more than one account on different social medias, pretending to be multiple different people and Stalking your posts. She'd slide into your dms and flirt, seeing if you'd really cheat on her. She's so happy when you instantly block the account, guess you'll survive not being sent to her basement for another week

💄she has the audacity to grab a frilly pink pen and make you wear clothes that purposely shows off what she wrote. In bright bold lettering, Eva's little cum dump ♡ . Maybe she'll let you bring a jacket, only if you beg her really hard with those big doe eyes she loves. She put a collar and leash on you too

💐don't try breaking up with her, she takes 'they go low, I go lower" to another level. Threatening to post pictures of you in rather compromising positions. When did she record all of this? Who knows. She won't refrain from spreading nasty rumors of you that just force you to come sobbing into her arms, if you try and get comfort from somebody else she won't hesitate to eliminate them. Don't you see? She's the final girl, and you're her love Interest

"I told you not to run pretty baby.. now look what you've done. I gotta fix your mess up~.."

moral of the story: be a loyal loving girlfriend and she'll spoil you rotten with her daddy's black card ♥️

[ellecdc]

Um I’m just thinking about pregnant!reader giving one of the hockey boys or poly!marauders a little hockey jersey to tell them she’s pregnant 😭🥹

OMG SHUT UP this was so cute (thank you for the prompt!)

hockey player!Sirius Black x fem!reader who has a surprise for him [690 words]

CW: afab!reader, pregnancy, pregnancy announcement

Now, you may not believe him, but Sirius swears to all the hockey gods that he tried his best to control the expression that took over his face.

The two of you had gotten home from Sirius’ birthday dinner - which one of the team ‘dads’ (who not coincidentally billeted Sirius when he first joined the team) insisted on throwing, regardless of the fact that the team was already together for his actual birthday four days ago while they were on the road - and you hardly had your jacket off before you were telling him to go sit down in the living room so you could bring his present to him.

He wasn’t proud of the fact that he found himself a little disappointed you didn’t walk back into the living room stark naked, or perhaps wearing a sexy little number. But no matter; your eyes were bright and crinkled in the corner, your smile was shy yet excited and hopeful, and you were wearing his team hoodie that came down to nearly your knees, and he thought you had never looked more beautiful.

“Happy birthday, Siri.” You offered quietly as you handed him a square, thin package - the box appeared to be the same shape as one you’d purchase a pie in, but it was incredibly light.

He smiled at you before unwrapping the paper and ribbon from the box and lifting the lid from it.

Sirius recognized the colours instantly, of course he did. They were Lion’s colours; Gryffindor red and gold with black detailing.

What confused him, though, is that the garment folded before him seemed to be one of his own jerseys.

A tiny version of his jersey; the home jersey, deep red with yellow lettering which read BLACK above his number 12, clearly outlined and defined by black piping.

But if you noticed the confusion on Sirius’ face, you didn’t show it.

“This is…cute, babe.” Sirius offered cautiously, letting out a nervous laugh as he pinched the shoulders of the tiny jersey between his thumb and finger and held it up in front of him - it really was no bigger than a dinner plate.

But no sooner had the jersey fully unfurled did Sirius hear something clunk back down into the box.

“Was there something inside it?” He asked aloud as he pulled the jersey aside, and Sirius froze. “Is-”

Sitting in a bed of decorative tissue was a plastic stick with a sealed cap on the end, and a pink plus sign on the other.

And underneath it was images from a sonogram.

“Baby?” Sirius whispered, and when he could finally manage to tear his gaze away from the clues sitting in his lap, he saw you standing with your hands over your mouth and your eyes swimming with tears.

“Baby? Is this- are you…are we pregnant?”

You released a breath you’d apparently been holding that sounded very close to a sob as you nodded emphatically.

“Baby!” Sirius cheered, all but tossing your gift aside as he stood from the couch and made for you - enveloping you in a near bone crushing hug that took you right off your feet.

“What? How? How long? When did you find out? Oh my god.” He rapid fired in between pressing kisses to various parts of your face.

“I took the test just before you left for your two week road trip, but it was confirmed by the doctor three days ago.” You explained as you laughed through your tears - happy tears.

“Oh my god.” Sirius repeated as he put you back down on your feet, though he allowed no distance between you two as he rested his forehead against yours and smoothed his hands up and down your back. “Oh my god, oh my god. I can’t believe this. We’re gonna have a baby?”

You let out a wet chuckle and pressed a kiss to his lips that saw him chasing yours for two more. “We’re going to have a baby.” You confirmed.

Sirius shook his head in awe, kissing the dampness from your eyelashes before tucking your head under his chin.

“We’re going to have a baby.” He repeated.

“Happy birthday, Sirius.”

Best. Birthday. Ever.

[xo-codbby]

forgive the inaccuracies, idk much about babies my bad ☠ baby isn't named, hope you enjoy :)

another kid taking simon's baby's toy? absolute hell

it had been two days of crying and sobbing from the infant, he was in shock of how she many tears she seemed to be able to shed worriedly wondering if she would even get dehydrated at one point. but it wasn't much better when she calmed down, he absolutely hated how sad and miserable she looked as she moped around.

the holiday had seemed so bleak now, you had ordered a replacement plush giraffe for your baby the same as the last but it would be shipped to your home. not to the resort you were currently on and with still a week to go, you didn't know if your baby could hang on for that long. and simon regretted even booking the trip at all, he cursed the hotel for being so incompetent. cursed the people that took her beloved toy away and himself for not being able to find it anywhere.

both of you trying to engage in playtime with your baby who didn't seem very receptive to any of it, it was her first time with sand in all the 7 months of her being alive and at the beginning she loved playing sandcastles with him but now she just looked blankly at it. hardly wanting to join as the soft sad look on her face persisted

"i'll go check with the staff again, maybe they've found something?" you offered standing up, hoping that her little toy would pop out from somewhere while your husband gave you a gentle nod sighing softly himself. he looks back to the infant, giving her a faint smile as he tilted his head

"c'mon sweetheart, it's gonna be alright. look, we can still have plenty fun" simon tried everything, doing the voices she loved, making all different types things in the sand, even sprinkling some on her little hands and feet but it didn't elicit any sort of response from her as she held her little toy spade tapping the sand hopelessly. he sighed once more, shaking his head as he looked up for you hoping magically her giraffe would be in your hand

but it's her shriek and gasp that jolts him slightly, blinking down at her watching her legs trying to crawl eagerly to somewhere while he looks around the families trying to figure out what got her so concerned

and then he spots it, his own heart thudding against his chest

he saw a little boy holding the same pastel giraffe and the sight filled him with triumph and anger. this little kid stole his baby's toy, put his whole family through hell, at this point that damned giraffe felt like his second kid, all while those parents watched without a care in the world? the cursive lettering on the side of the giraffe only confirmed his doubts as he stiffened up.

target set, he was ready to attack

he heard you come back, not finding anything from the staff as you look at him a little confused. your brow raised as he gets up, leaving the baby beside you stalking to the other family with a bone to pick

and like usual, simon doesn't even bother with pleasantries. walking straight to the parents eyes narrowing on the boy playing on the floor, swallowing down the anger that wanted to rip out of his throat as he looked at the giraffe. it was his, it belonged to him

"can we help you?" he hears the mother speak, her tone cautious and wary as she frowns. he barely gives her a glance before he snatches up the giraffe from her son, relishing in the protests as he stepped towards the woman. his face set eerily in a neutral expression but the emotions burned deep inside his eyes, brown eyes darkening as they settled on the woman

"yeah, teach your son not to steal from others. cheers" he spoke coldly, daring one of them to stand up to him. he was in the mood to fight, nights of dealing with his unhappy baby had left him feeling on edge and he was more than willing to shout his rage at someone.

but they didn't say a thing, who would to a 6'4 behemoth of a man, already pissed off and aggravated, just looking for a reason to snap back?

the silence had been resounding and he was satisfied, shooting them a last look as he stormed off. heading back to where you and his infant sat, presenting the beloved giraffe as a gift

"got your little friend, munchkin" his voice immediately softens as he kneels down on the sand once more, handing her the plush toy chuckling gently at her small excited giggles. tiny hands grabbing excitedly as she pressed the giraffe to her chest in pure relief making you both smile. he steadies her and her small frame nuzzles into his chest, a string of "dada" happily falling from her lips making his heart clench with adoration and love. smiling softly at you as he holds his little mini close to his chest, cuddling her tight

she ends up falling out of love with the giraffe the next day