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#like what do i need to do to cup his cheek and run my thumb over his lil face
maxybabyy · 1 day
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”What?”
”Nothing, I’m just –” Gianpiero says and clears his throat.
“You are of course staring at me,” Max says, and Gianpiero knows that he is, but how could he not?
Max is soaked to the bone, hair drenched with sweat, and the thin, white shirt he had been wearing is now clinging to his chest. His face is flushed, and his breaths are fast, shallow from running himself ragged on the paddle court. He holds the seam of his shirt between long, elegant fingers and uses it to wipe his forehead, flashing the pale skin of his stomach – and even that looks a bit flushed.
“I’m just looking at you, Max,” Gianpiero says, and at least his voice sounds calm. “Is that not allowed?”
Gianpiero is always looking at Max, toMax, for Max. When it’s not his data, it’s always Max, in the car or on the sim. Two beers deep in a bar somewhere they shouldn’t have been, complaining about the car, the cats, Lando and his moods, or whatever has been stuck on his mind this week.
Gianpiero has looked at him in his bed, spread out beautifully in pale soft sheets. So utterly lovely and impossible at the same time.
Usually, Max will look back at him and smile, eyes crinkling at the corner because Max likes the attention. Of the world? Maybe. The media? Certainly not. But there’s a select few under whose eyes Max will beam with affection, like a flower blooming under the glow of the sun.
But Max doesn’t smile. His eyes don’t crinkle, and the line of his mouth goes taut.
“Don’t,” he says. “Not when –“
“I cannot look at you, Max? At my driver, at my –“
“No,” Max says, and it’s a far cry from the man who had dragged him to the paddle court in the first place, loose and happy with the weekend off. “Not when always you do nothing about it.”
“Max.”
Gianpiero doesn’t reach for him – not here, not with Robert and Calum just meters away – but his fingers twitch with the need to.
Max watches him for a second before he scoffs. He picks up his water bottle and stalks out, back tight with tension. And then, just before he leaves for the locker room, body poised not unlike a cat ready for the attack, “I owe you of course congratulations on the promotion, GP. You must be so happy, Red Bull also, no?”
It’s catty and mean, and Gianpiero is too old for this whole cat-and-mouse bit, but he goes after him anyway, gives chase until the door slams shut behind them.
“It helps to have the success of a three-times world champion behind you,” he says, and this time he does reach for Max.
He places one hand on Max’s hip, fingers slipping on sweaty skin as he bypasses where Max’s shorts sit tight. The other cups his jaw, fingers splayed wide on his throat, making Max look at him. Max doesn’t move away, but he’s always been like this: pliant under steady hands, malleable and yielding even in times where he shouldn’t.
Max swallows, and Gianpiero feels it against his hand.
“I thought –“ Max says but the words come out strangled. Voice cracking like it does sometimes in the car, loud and hilarious over the radio, reminding them both of how far he’s come since then, how far they’ve both come.
“Always we said when it is 2025, we would try,” he says with a rasp. “And then you –“
Gianpiero breathes out a heavy breath. His thumb strokes over Max’s cheek, skin slick with sweat but he doesn’t mind. A lot of their best moments have been with Max drenched in sweat.
“I don’t think it’s that easy, unfortunately,” he says softly. “The market is changing, and what teams want is –“
“Everyone wants you, GP,” Max says, blunt and a little mean. He twists out of Gianpiero’s hands to pace the space between lockers, his shoes heavy on the floor. “Fucking Vasseur trying to –“
“As I said, things change,” Gianpiero says softly. His shirt feels clammy against his skin, and he has a meeting at four, but that has to wait. “With Lewis, Bono said –“
“I do not give a fuck about Bono,” Max lashes out, head whipped around to stare at Gianpiero. “Or did he fuck Lewis also? Did he tell him he loved him and that they would of course be together and then forget about him? Did Bono do this also? Because he is then in lovely company.”
Gianpiero flinches at the words, at how they leave Max’s mouth. Pink lips pulled back in a snarl, flat teeth that he’s felt against his skin now ready for the attack.
“Max,” he says, searching for something softer, sweeter. But Max has always been Max to him, even when he wasn’t, and Gianpiero doesn’t like to think about that. “Max,” he says again and wills it to be as sweet as any other pet name.
“Did you ever think that’s why I’m doing this?” He asks. “I cannot be your race engineer and have the responsibility of putting you in the seat, fighting with you about a car that doesn’t drive like you want it to, and then come home with you to pretend everything is alright.”
“Why not?” Max asks, rudely if Gianpiero didn’t know him better.
Gianpiero knows Max has no problem separating what happens in racing from his personal life. So perhaps Max could make it work, chewing him out over the radio before crawling into bed with him, kissing him softly as he has before. But Gianpiero knows he couldn’t.
“I love you, Max, but it has to be right, and it has to make sense, for both of us,” he says.
He knows Max already has one foot out of the sport, knows if the car continues to drive like it does Max will leave. To Aston Martin or Mercedes, he doesn’t know, or perhaps even retirement. He knows Max wants him to follow, and that now only the latter is possible.
But Gianpiero isn’t ready to leave and more truthfully, isn’t ready to be in his mid-forties and live off his boyfriend’s money.
“When?” Max asks. He’s lost some of the fight, the tension in his shoulders all but gone, and he comes to Gianpiero easy, tucking his face into his throat. “When will it make sense?”
They both know the answer but neither of them wants to say it.
Even if it meant he would have Max like this, soft and lovely in his arms, he would lose the driver Max has become. And selfishly, Gianpiero isn’t ready for that either.
“Soon,” he says and pretends the words don’t taste bitter on his tongue as he leans in to kiss him.
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joeys-babe · 1 month
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i need NEED to feel joe’s soft skin. like that post practice interview yesterday made his skin look so soft and smooth. god damn.
like I just want to leave little kisses along his soft neck 😓😓
I WAS LITERALLY THINKING THAT YESTERDAY.
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He looks sooooo kissable. 😭😭
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saetoru · 1 year
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ speak of the devil
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synopsis. satoru and his father don’t quite get along—you don’t think it would help that case if his father walked in on you fucking on his desk right now, but satoru doesn’t seem to care at all
FIVE PLACES RB! GOJO SHOULDN’T FUCK YOU SERIES
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length. 3.4k words (why did it take all day sobs)
contents. fem! reader, minors do not interact, college au, rich boy! gojo, as always it’s shameless satoru, you sit on satoru’s lap, brief fingering, dry humping, desk sex <3, clothed sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, perfect girl)
notes. to everyone who kept asking when i was gonna update this series: here it is. now don’t ask again <3
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the one time you decide to surprise satoru with a visit is the one time he’s nowhere to be found—it takes you ten minutes and the help of two maids to finally find satoru in his house. as it turns out, he’s in his father’s office—the only room you’ve never been in yet.
“hey,” you murmur, “been looking for you everywhere. way to ruin my surprise.”
“baby!” he grins, perking up from his spot at the chair, setting the pen in his hand down. “you came all the way here to surprise me? you must love me so much. and think i’m hot too, right? and funny? and smart? and—”
“i’m leaving,” you tease, rolling your eyes. and then you notice the papers in front of him, peeking over his shoulder as you read over them. you understand nothing. “what’s this?”
“paperwork,” he grumbles, “old man says i have to start being more responsible for stuff if i’m gonna take over someday. what a geezer.”
you snort—satoru never runs out of insults for his father. normally, you wouldn’t encourage his comments, but….well, his father deserves them. quite a bit, in fact.
“my poor businessman,” you say sympathetically, smoothing back hair from his forehead as you cup his face. he pouts, leaning into your touch as you rub over the swell of his cheek with your thumb. “you deserve a break.”
“i know,” he whines, “i’ve been doing these for like an hour. i could’ve been playing video games with suguru. or fucking you.”
“satoru!” you gasp, pressing a hand over his lips as you eye the door and listen for any signs of anyone nearby. you turn to him and hiss, “you have too many people wandering your house for you to say that so loud.”
“not like they’ve never heard us before,” he shrugs.
well, that’s satoru for you—as shameless as ever. not only has he probably traumatized the poor maids with his insatiable horniness, but he’s not even got the tact to at least seem embarrassed. not even slightly ashamed. you scoff, shaking your head as he grins up at you cheekily.
“you’re a real case, you know that?” you say in disbelief, “i think the only surface you haven’t fucked me on is your parent’s bed. and that’s only because you love your mom enough not to do that.”
“if it was just the old man’s, i’d have fucked you on that too,” he snickers. and then he hums thoughtfully, “actually, i think i have fucked you everywhere. it’s like a bucket list.”
“satoru, you’re sick in the head.”
“the showers, the guest rooms, the kitchen, the living room, the movie room, my room, of course—oh, the game room too. and we can’t forget the backyard and the pool either. i think we got it all—wait.”
he sounds serious. you look at him with furrowed brows as you tilt your head. “what?”
“we didn’t get this room.”
oh god. he’s absolutely ridiculous—and not only that but a complete idiot, too. not only do satoru and his father not get along, but his father couldn’t disapprove of you any more than he already does. the last thing you both need is for him to walk in on his son fucking the girl he probably wants to hire a hitman to assassinate.
“oh my god,” you say exasperatedly, “toru, have you not one ounce of shame? you can’t possibly think—”
“why didn’t i think of this sooner?” he wonders out loud—and oh no. satoru has that look in his eyes, the one that’s locked in on something he wants. the spoiled side of him isn’t going to let this go. the weak part of you is probably going to have a hard time fighting him.
the unwise part of both of you will probably get you both into a whole lot of trouble.
“because it’s a bad idea. you’re a smart guy, toru,” you try to butter him up—it doesn’t seem to do much, though. “the smartest. so, so genius and intelligent, so you know this is a terrible idea, so let’s just drop it—”
“i should’ve done this way sooner,” he chuckles, looking at you in awe, “bend you right over this desk and fuck you over that fossil’s papers.”
his words are so shameless and so, so wrong. but for some odd reason, your clit aches a little at that.
“no, absolutely not—”
“can you imagine? he’s signing papers right where i had you drooling for me? he’d be so mad if he knew,” satoru cackles.
god—this should not be as appealing as it sounds. you try to throw on your best stern look, but satoru is as smart as he is sly. he can see the way you shift on your feet as he smirks up at you, and he’s already got that determined look in his eye that you know well enough.
it’s the same look he has when he decides he’s hungry—for you, that is. the same look that paints his face as he eyes you like you’re his next meal. the same look that tells you he wants you—and he’ll stop at nothing to have you.
and….well, you’ve never been good at saying no to satoru. it’s your fatal flaw.
“satoru, we should definitely not be doing any of that in here, and we definitely should not be risking making your dad—who hates that we’re dating, by the way—any more angry with us than he already is—”
“sweetheart,” he chuckles, pulling you by the wrist to fall onto his lap, “you worry too much, y’know that? i should fix that. fuck you dumb over this desk so you don’t overthink in that pretty little head you have.”
you glare at him, but he’s already got you straddling his hips, arms looped around your waist as he kisses your jaw with a hum. he’s already hard from what you can feel—the bulge pressing against your heat is hard to miss. 
“satoru—”
“save the part where you say my name for later. i haven’t even done anything yet,” he winks—and then he’s kissing you. he’s clever, you think, because kissing you is the fastest way to get you to melt against him, arms wrapping around his neck as he pulls you closer. 
so close, in fact, that you can feel his cock practically twitch in his pants as you shift on top of him, dragging your clothed cunt over his aching bulge.
“this is such a bad idea, toru,” you whisper in between kisses—but not one part of you fights his touch or even attempts to pull away. he hums, pressing wet kisses along your jaw as his hands dig into your hips, moving you to grind along his hardened length. 
“yeah? you sure? let’s check, shall we?” he raises a brow, hand slipping past the waistband of your pants and brushing past your folds—wet. dripping and messy and needy, just how your pussy always seems to be when you’re with him. he grins in satisfaction and throws you that knowing look as he mumbles, “sorry, baby. this pretty little pussy of yours disagrees.”
“toru,” you gasp as he toys with your clit, rubbing slow enough circles that you whine and roll your hips, trying to get more. but satoru is a brat—always has been, right from the day he was born. he pulls his fingers away and looks at you smugly as he kisses your curled lips while you frown at him.
“want more, don’t ya?” he asks—he’s too cocky for his own good sometimes. too ridiculous and annoying and troublesome, but you’re aching to feel something, anything. preferably him, so you nod. 
“just hurry up,” you huff. your hips push against him, dragging your cunt over his cock—it’s throbbing in his pants, confined under the fabric and needy for the tightness of your walls. you gasp when he rubs against your clit, and he groans, guiding your movements with a tight grip on your hips. 
“fuck, sweetheart,” he rasps, “c-could cum jus’ like this. see what you do to me?”
“‘s not me,” you tilt your head as he nips at your neck, hand trailing to cup the back of his head and keep him in place as he nibbles at the skin and pecks along the marks he leaves, “this is all your fault.”
“all my fault, huh?” he chuckles, “you make it sound like this is a bad thing.”
his hips buck up, rolling against yours and building the friction up until your both panting messes, his lips against yours as you drink in each other’s moans—your clit rubs along his length with every stutter of your hips, and his tip leaks with more pre cum every time you press harder against his cock. it’s desperate—the way he chokes on your name and the way you cling around his neck. it feels good, and the way this is all so wrong only makes it feel better. 
“‘m close, toru,” you mewl, whining as his hand slides under your shirt to massage your tit, his eyes trained on you as he hums.
“good,” he grins, eyes dark and glinting with a sick satisfaction you don’t think you’ve ever seen on him before, “cum for me, sweetheart. right here—right on this chair,” he says lowly. 
so you do—head falling back with a sharp gasp and your nails digging into his shoulder as you come undone with a loud whine. the gojo estate is big—very big. you’re sure your voice isn’t carrying through even a fraction of the place, but still, you can’t help but clamp a hand over your mouth in case anyone is nearby. 
satoru doesn’t like that, though—his hand rips yours off as he ruts his hips upwards faster, harder, pressing against you closer. “no, baby,” he chuckles, cutting himself off with a breathy moan when you press harder against his cock, “make sure you let me hear how good you feel. feels good, huh?”
“yes,” you whimper, “yes, feels so good—need more, toru. please,” you pout, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes. 
“here?” he mocks, raising a brow, “you want me to fuck you right here? in my father’s office? where he does his work? right on his desk?”
“yes, here,” you sob, “right here—please. want you so bad. need it.”
“see?” he laughs, “now you’re getting it—not so much of a bad idea, is it?”
that’s the thing about satoru—he’s too used to hearing what he wants. being told what he likes to hear. getting what he asks for. you say no, and he’s determined to change it to a yes. but yes is never enough—it’s more. always more, more, more. it’s like all rich people, you suppose. 
they just always want more.
there’s a small, reasonable voice in your head that tells you this is a bad idea. a disrespectful one, even. sure, satoru’s father has never been kind to you, let alone polite. he looks at you like you’re an eyesore, and he’s certainly said less than appropriate things about your upbringing. but that doesn’t mean you have to stoop to his level of low and do something equally as spiteful, if not more…but you’re only human. and satoru always just fucks you so well, and cumming around nothing just isn’t enough, and…well, you think it’s just karma. 
the way the world works. 
the way you and satoru work. 
so you grin, huff out a little snort before pulling him into a kiss and reaching to free his hard, leaky cock from its confinements. he whines a little into your mouth as you smear the arousal coating his tip along his length, stroking down and squeezing at the base. 
“okay,” you whisper against his lips, “fuck me toru. right here—right on his desk.”
that, evidently, is all it takes—one second you’re comfortably sitting on his legs, pants soaked with his bulge pressed against your core, and the next second you hear his hand swipe papers off the surface to fall to the floor as your back is pressed against the cool wood. he doesn’t even bother with your clothes, just tugs both of your pants down your thighs that it’s enough. satoru has always been impatient too—doesn’t like to wait for anything when he can take it when he wants. 
you can feel him close, hovering over you. he’s warm—where his cock presses against your thigh, where his breath fans over your lips, where his hands grab your wrists and pin them over your head. he’s warm, and your head spins, and you need him filling you to the brim right now.
“anything you want, you get, sweetheart,” he murmurs, grinning sickeningly sweet, “can’t say no to my baby. what kind of boyfriend would i be?” you feel him bump his tip against your clit, making you gasp before he drags the head of his cock along your folds—they’re wet and slick from your arousal, coating his tip before he’s slowly pushing in. you gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck as he groans lowly. “can never get used to this,” he breathes, “never get used to this pussy. just takes me so well. fit in like i was made just to fuck you.”
“toru, t-toru—oh,” you squeal when he slides the rest of his length to fill you, buried to the hilt as your walls flutter around him. it’s nothing new, but it’s never something you’re prepared for all the same. how thick he is, how perfectly he hits that spot in the back of your walls, how full he makes you feel. it makes your legs wrap around his waist and pull him forward, closer, deeper. “more, toru—move, please.”
“nuh uh,” he drawls, kissing your cheeks, “first you gotta tell me how much you love me.”
���satoru,” you hiss in disbelief, “are you kidding—”
“c’mon, say it,” he giggles, “love you, toru. love how you fuck me so good everywhere in your house and make me feel like a princess. you’re the best boyfriend ever and i’ll die without your cock—”
“i love you toru,” you smile sweetly, “you know what i love more, though? when you’re too busy making pretty sounds for me instead of talking so much.”
that makes him shudder—makes him curse under his breath as your walls flutter impatiently around him. he’s aching—hot and swollen in your dripping cunt, balls heavy with cum that he needs to empty into your pussy because it was made to take him. every inch of him.
“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he breathes out shakily, “know that? gonna kill me one of these days.”
“good,” you hum before rolling your hips and making his breath hitch, “now move, baby. wanna feel you.” 
he does—pulls his hips back so that he’s just almost pulled out completely before he slams back into you, pressing against your sweet spot with his tip in the way only satoru knows how. only he knows you this well, only he knows your body so well. he knows where to kiss and hold and touch to make your eyes flutter shut, and your mouth fall open, wanton moans falling past your lips without a care in the world who can hear. 
“so tight, baby,” he whines, “god you’re so perfect—my perfect girl.”
“so full,” you gasp, clawing at his shoulders, pulling at his hair, pulling him closer and closer and closer until not even air can fill the space between you. “feel so good, toru—fuck.”
“look at you,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “‘s a shame you can’t see what i see. then you’d know why i can’t keep my hands off’a you—’s impossible.”
you can’t speak—all you can offer him as he’s bullying his thick girth into you is a pathetic whine as his veins drag along your walls, as his navel bumps along your clit and has your head thrown back against the table. there’s slick smeared along your inner thigh, the wet sound of his cock fucking into you ringing in your ears along with his deep groans as he pants harshly against your ear. you can feel his breath against your skin, can feel the goosebumps and the flutter of your walls every time he makes a pretty little sound for you as you squeeze around him. 
“love you, toru,” you mewl—you can’t help but say it, can’t help but remind him when he pushes into you like he was always meant to fit right there, like he was always meant to feel you as you feel him too. and if his rotten, greedy, stuck-up father with a receding hairline can’t see that you love satoru, maybe you’ll just have to fuck him right where he can find you just to drill the image into his mind. 
“love you too,” he says between moans, face digging into your neck as your hand cradles the back of his head, keeping him right there, keeping him close against you like he should never be anywhere else, “love my perfect, perfect girl. feel me? feel what you do to me?”
you nod between sharp gasps and soft cries of his name—he looks down at you in wonder, at the way your lips look when they murmur that sweet little cry of toru!, at the way your pussy sucks him in and hugs too tightly around him, at the way you look so good with the slight sheen of sweat on your face. 
his hips roll, a little sloppy in rhythm now, but still just as hard and deep as before. he can sense it—the way you’re just about to fall apart on his cock, just like you always do. so he presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing harsh circles that make you cling to him tighter as you cry out another sweet string of toru, toru—more!
“you close, sweetheart? gonna cum for me? ‘m close—gonna fill you up. want that, don’t you?”
“yeah,” you breathe, kissing him with hot, open-mouthed kisses that he returns, “yeah i wan’ you to fill me up, toru—gonna cum. ‘m so close—f-fuck, so close, baby.”
you know he is too, the way his cock twitches and the way his hips are desperate in the way they roll into you tells you he’s just as close to falling apart as you are. you push your hips up to meet his thrusts, pushing him impossibly deeper into your cunt before you feel the coil snap as you cum—hard. your walls flutter around him, spasming and squeezing around him that his bottom lip is tugged between his teeth as he inhales sharply.
“f-fuck, baby—’m gonna…” he doesn’t get to finish before you feel his cock twitch and the first drop of cum fills you. it’s hot and thick, every rope he fucks into you, leaking past his tip and painting your walls white. you can feel the mess he makes—can feel the drops leak and smear along your inner thighs as he slams into you with choked whines of your name. “g-good—’s so good, you feel so good,” he says breathlessly, face digging deeper into the crook of your neck as his arms tremble over you.
the wood is hard against you, makes your back ache slightly—but it’s not nearly as bad as satoru is good. you can’t think of anything else but the way he fucks you both through your highs until your legs are begging to press shut from the oversensitivity. 
it’s silent for a bit once you’ve finished—save for the harsh, labored panting as you both calm down and catch your breaths. satoru is still buried with his nose pressed against your neck, your hand rubbing over his back slowly.
“your maids must hate us,” you mumble, “and if your mother hears? we can never show her our faces again.”
“she’s probably dead to the world and watching her reality shows,” he snorts, “we’ll be fine.”
“well, we should clean up and leave before your dad—”
“oh look, speak of the devil. he’s just in time,” satoru snickers as he cuts you off, looking over at the window as an expensive car drives up to the house, “think we can get these papers organized before he comes up here? maybe we should just leave ‘em to make him mad.”
“you’re crazy,” you say in disbelief. and then— “i think we should leave them there. make them his problem.”
you think you’ve just watched satoru fall in love with you all over again at that.
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i hate this fic but hopefully i come back one week later and reread it and think wow i ate w this. sometimes i do that. but if i don’t: if all of you donate one dollar to my family they can afford my funeral for when i drink bleach
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Text
it’s downright pouring outside.
suguru rests on the living room couch, cooped up in a bundle of soft blankets, watching droplets ricochet against the windows. heavy, sharp, like the rain is trying to break into your apartment — a steady pitter patter that makes him feel at ease.
it’s cozy, he thinks. being indoors, safe and warm and dry, while the outside world is blanketed by gray. wearing baggy clothes, a pair of reading glasses, his hair tied up into a loose bun; slender fingers turning the pages of the new novel you gave him.
he thinks of you, and finds himself frowning.
suguru got home just before storm clouds gathered in the sky — but as far as he knows, you’re still outside. he’s memorized your comings and goings, what time you usually return home, the paths you tend to favour. as any attentive roommate should.
so he’s a little worried. usually, you’d be home by now. and you still haven’t replied to his messages.
tentatively, he reaches for the warm cup of tea on the coffee table, bringing the ceramic to his lips. sipping from the green, honeyed brew, letting the scent soothe his growing nerves. he shouldn’t be too high-maintenance; you’re a perfectly capable adult. if he nags at you all the time, you’ll just be weirded out. and the last thing he wants is to scare you away.
so it’s fine. you’re fine, he’s sure. there’s no need for him to freak out over your whereabouts. he needs to maintain his cool, calm exterior.
— suddenly, the click of a lock being turned.
suguru’s head whips towards the front door. a moment passes, and then he’s stumbling to his feet, untangling himself from the heap of blankets he’s burrowed into — gently setting the cup back on the table, fixing his hair, making sure he’s presentable — before making his way towards the hall.
and there you are. clumsily dragging the door open, stumbling inside, keys jingling as you step over the threshold; absolutely soaked. just as he feared.
”hey…”
you meet his gaze. panting softly, cheeks a little flushed, wet locks of hair sticking to your forehead and neck. disheveled, letting out a sheepish little laugh — gosh, why do you have to be so cute? — leaning down to pull your shoes off. you’re wearing a thin, white shirt. entirely drenched. 
suguru looks away, a heat sticking to his cheeks.
”hey,” you greet, a little out of breath. tossing your shoes away, tugging absently at your collar. ”god. i feel like a drowned rat.”
at that, he lets a little chuckle slip. shaking his head, taking a step back — careful not to let his gaze stray towards the soaked fabric of your clothing. ”why didn’t you call me? i would have picked you up.”
”well, i thought about it,” you hum, walking right past him, ”but i figured you’d still be at work.”
suguru frowns, ever so slightly, discontentment in his eyes. ”… they let me go early today. but you should have texted me, either way. what if you get sick?”
”i’ll be fineeee,” you slip on a grin, turning back to face him. ”just need a quick shower. don’t worry, okay?”
he narrows his eyes, playfully, enjoying the way your eyes crinkle in response. then he exhales, hands on his hips. feigning exasperation. 
”… fine, fine. need me to go get you a clean shirt?”
”ah. well...” you let out a wince, earning a tilt of his head. ”i haven’t done my laundry, in like… a week.”
a moment passes. suguru’s lips curl up, an exasperated exhale slipping from his lips. he gazes at you, ever so fondly, raising a brow. ”i asked you if you needed me to wash anything for you.”
”i know, but…” you scratch at the back of your neck, letting out a breathy sigh. ”i don’t want you to pull all my weight. we both live here.” now there’s a pretty little pout on your lips. it makes suguru want to run his thumb over the sensitive skin, soothe it away.
but he only clears his throat. 
”i don’t mind,” he answers, truthfully. ”i like doing laundry. you know that.”
”… still.”
his smile only grows, at your quiet mumble, something soft blooming in his eyes. he takes a step forward. ”we’ll see about laundry later. in the meantime… want to wear one of my shirts?”
the words have left his lips before he can think them through — maybe a little too eager. silently, he curses himself for being so forward. but you raise your head, meeting his amber eyes, blinking so sheepishly that he thinks he’d give you just about anything you could ask for.
”… is that okay?” 
”more than okay,” he reassures you, a smile on his face. ”i’ll get you something comfy.”
you quiet down, for a moment. still pulling at the collar of your shirt, making sure the thin fabric doesn’t stick to your soaked skin. ”… alright,” you exhale. ”that’d be great, then.”
a hum buzzes in his throat. suguru walks past you, towards the hallway leading up to his room, ruffling your wet hair in passing. his heavy palm on your head, a perfect fit. smiling to himself.
”got it. one second, okay?” 
behind him, you nod — but he can’t see it. walking into his room, rummaging through his closet, trying not to lose his mind at the idea of you wearing one of his oversized shirts. maybe a pair of sweatpants, maybe a tank top… he gulps at the thought. heartbeat accelerating, a jittery feeling in his throat.
he settles on a big, comfortable hoodie. bundling it up in his arms, before making his way back to where you’re still standing, still soaked, shivering a little. 
”here,” he hums, passing the bundle of soft fabric into your awaiting arms. you nuzzle into the pile, already looking comforted; warming his heart down to the marrow. he hopes you like the cologne he picked out, earthy and deep. a hint of cinnamon. ”now go take your shower, hm?”
”mm. thank you.” you give him a smile, cheeks still damp, a little flushed. ”you’re too nice to me.”
suguru resists the urge to frown. resists the urge to tell you that there’s no such thing, that you deserve every last drop of kindness he can wring out of his cramped-up heart. he knows he shouldn’t be too forward, but you’re making it difficult. you always make it so difficult.
(or maybe he’s just a weak, weak man.)
”oh, please,” he gives you a playful little roll of his eyes, sighing gravely. ”this is the bare minimum. we don’t want you catching a cold, do we?”
”we don’t,” you grin. ”i have a feeling you’d just end up feeding me soup all day.”
a chuckle flows from out his lips. he hopes it doesn’t come out as shaky as his heart feels, just at the thought — the idea of taking care of you like that. being allowed to tend to you, being trusted by you in that way. ”well, i am a chef. need to make sure i don’t get rusty, yeah?”
there it is, again. the crinkle of your eyes, that upturn of your lips, all things he finds himself constantly seeking — suguru exhales, somewhat in bliss. he might need to quit cigarettes for good, soon. it wouldn’t do for him to have more than one vice.
while you take your shower, your roommate lounges on the couch. or at least, he tries to — though his feet inevitably take him to your tiny kitchen, to the water cooker, to the cabinet with all his expensive tea bags. he picks out a nice, strong ginger brew. something to help boost your immune system. silently, drowsily, he pours water into a ceramic cup, stirs the slowly brewing tea with a honey-clad teaspoon. raindrops cascade against the window, and the faraway sound of thunder reaches his ears.
it’s cold outside, but warm and cozy in here. in the home you’ve made for yourselves. he’s really, really glad that he followed satoru’s advice — that he put out that advert, that the first person who reached out ended up being you. he’s happy to share a living space with you, these cozy leftover afternoons. he’s happy to have someone to brew tea for.
(what more could a man like him ask for?)
”um, suguru?”
he stiffens. ears perking up at the sound of your voice, that mellow little lilt — broken out of his syrupy stupor. after a moment, he turns around.
and his breath hitches in the back of his throat.
you’re standing there, right at the threshold separating the kitchen from the living room, hair a little damp from the shower — and you’re wearing his hoodie. it cascades down your frame, the hem of it ending right above your knees, sleeves rolled up to reveal your hands. that hoodie is baggy even on him, but you’re just drowning in the fabric. his heart feels like it’s about to burst, pupils wide as saucers.
suguru lets out a shaky sigh.
”jesus…”
a series of blinks. you tilt your head, like a confused puppy, glancing up at him with a doe-eyed look. fuck, he wants to bundle you up in his arms. he wants you to fall asleep on his chest, wants to keep you there forever. god, who thinks stuff like that?
(he needs to get a grip, and fast. he can already feel his ears growing hotter.)
”it looks… kind of ridiculous, doesn’t it?” you mumble, sheepishly, clouded with what he thinks must be shyness. cute. ”this isn’t really my size…”
suguru lets out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head, raven locks swaying with the movement. ”i can see that. looks good on you, though.”
”… does it?” you let your arms fall slack, at your sides, the softened fabric swallowing your hands entirely. he can’t even see the tips of your fingers. oh, how his heart aches — it’s squeezing so tightly he fears his chest might cave in, but all he can do is nod.
he turns around, again, absently clearing his throat. clinking the teaspoon against the rim of your cup, stirring idly. ”is it comfortable?”
”mhm!”
a warm smile. ”good.”
silently, you scoot closer, taking your rightful place beside him. resting your elbows on the counter, watching his movements, the flick of his long fingers. one of his rings catches on the ceramic, a quiet clang.
”here,” he hums, pushing the cup towards you. when you look up, his eyes are crinkled at the edges, warm and sweet, a melting pair of honeycombs. ”drink up.”
a moment passes. ”… you really are too sweet for your own good, you know that?” 
suguru grins. his heart blossoms a little more; petals sticking between the ridges of his ribs. it manifests as a delighted little chuckle, flowing out his throat.
”don’t thank me yet — there’s sushi for you in the fridge. they let us bring leftovers home again.”
”really? i can have some?”
suguru raises a brow. smiling, all the while. ”would i be offering otherwise?”
(you can have anything, he wants to say. i doubt i could say no. i’m a little weak, when it comes to you.
such embarrassing words.)
a heavy sigh escapes you, laced with relief. taking hold of the cup, raising it to your lips, sipping slowly. ”god, you’re the best. i’m starving.”
”haha… better eat, then, yeah?”
nod, nod. you give him another one of those giddy grins, putting your cup down, taking a step back. suguru can’t help but turn his head, to catch a glimpse of you — how cozy you look, waddling around in that big hoodie, hair a little tousled. humming softly to yourself, tapping the tips of your fingers against the handle of the fridge. it mashes well with the endless pitter patter against the windowpane. a purr of thunder echoes in the distance, and suguru feels at peace. hyacinths line the windowsill, the crinkle of a plastic container being rustled rings out across the room. he watches, listens, observes. wallowing in the feeling. 
domesticity. 
with a breathy, blissed-out exhale, his eyes fall shut. smile dripping with sweetness, barely contained. wishing on every single droplet that you’ll stick around a little longer than your lease allows.
”here,” you grin, stepping into his line of vision. handing him a plate full of sushi, all his favorite pieces. ”you eat up, too.”
suguru smiles.
”what would i do without you?”
(that’s a bridge he’ll worry about crossing another day.
for now, this is more than enough.)
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alicentofhightower · 2 months
Text
the cost of a dragon
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pairing: addam velaryon x wife!reader
synopsis: addam is covered in cuts and scrapes from falling and running in the forest, and now you must take care of him.
includes: fluff, episode 6 heavy spoilers, probably historically inaccurate w some parts but we’re just gonna Let That Slide, not proofread again oops
wc: 1.3k
a/n: i love him so bad. rn my top 3 tb characters are rhaenyra rhaena and addam. he’s so sweet!! i really hope we get to see a lot more of him in the next few episodes
-
Addam is bewildered when he returns to your home, panting, eyes wide and mouth agape. You’ve never seen him like this, but you guess that it’s the dragon laying beside your house that’s done it.
“What’s happened?” You exclaim when you see the way he’s stumbled in, bleeding from a cut on his cheek.
“…The, the dragon,” He mumbles, locked hair spilling over his shoulders. Addam walks over to where you stand by the kitchen table, hands gently grasping your forearms, as yours do his, thumbs running over your skin to ground himself. He smells strange, like something otherworldly. Could it have been because of the beast outside your door?
“It came to me, followed me through the woods by the shore. I think I’ve claimed him. Yes, that’s what I’ve done. I must go.” Addam attempts to retract himself from your grip, but to no avail.
The pots and pans inside rattle when the silver creature lay its head on the yard outside, no doubt resting from its flight. “Please, my love,” Addam insists. “I need to go and see the queen myself. She is in need of more dragons herself, is she not? If I serve her, perhaps she will allow you and I to live at Dragonstone with her. This is our chance.”
You shake your head, apron ruffling from the beach’s wind blowing through the window. Addam has always been ambitious, has always wanted the best for you and himself. He’s fiercely loyal to you, a quality that made you want to marry him in the first place.
“Addam.” Your hands fly up to cup his cheeks, stopping him from continuing on with his tangent. “You’re covered in gashes and dirt and sand. At least let me lend you a hand.”
He softens at that, jaw seeming to unclench. Addam’s brown eyes have always been expressive, and now they seem to look at you as if you’re the sweetest person he’s ever known. “…I suppose you’re right,” He mutters, “but we must make haste.”
Finally, you let go of each other. You use one of your hands to intertwine your fingers with his, and the other to grip your skirts as you lead him to your room. It’s small and modest, mostly swallowed up by the bed you share. “Sit,” You say, almost commandingly, quickly fetching a spare piece of cloth by the tub in the main room and a bowl of water.
Addam’s eyes almost glint at the way you flounce about before him. He spreads his legs so you are able to stand between them, chin tilting up so he can make eye contact with you while you fix him up.
“Let me see.”
He holds out his right arm, palm up, covered in tiny scratches and sand from his poor attempt to escape from his new dragon. Seasmoke, he remembers. Addam squeezes your right hand lightly while the other cleans him up.
You barely manage to suppress a heavy scoff at the mess in front of you, but you dab gently at it with the towel anyway, soaked with water. “What did you do?” You ask, brows knitting together. “Did you try to run from it?”
“Yes,” He admits, face scrunching together at the fresh memory. You’ve told him to be careful of the sky-beasts constantly looming over the two of you, and he knows he’ll be scolded for trying to escape the damn thing.
You shake your head, mostly to yourself, and Addam’s shoulders deflate. “Well, what would you have done?” He asks, exasperated. “My apologies for wanting to come home to you tonight.”
You pinch his arm. “I only worry for you,” You say, voice soft. Addam and his brother, Alyn, are the only family you’ve left; you’d never known your father, and your sweet mother had died of a fever shortly after your seventeenth nameday. She hadn’t been able to last, to see you wed the man you love so dearly.
“…What will you say, when you see Queen Rhaenyra? She may think you are coming as a foe, to battle rather than service.”
Addam hisses as you brush against a particularly deep cut, eyes squeezing shut. “Sorry,” You say, and he only tips your interlaced fingers up to his lips and kisses the back of your hand.
Your husband pauses after he lets your hands back down, considering the weight of whatever his words to the Black Queen will mean. He almost thinks of it as a duty, to you and his brother. To further your ever so small family.
“I suppose the words will come to me when it happens.” He swallows harshly, eyes averted from yours, darting around like he’s telling himself to fucking think.
You’ve moved onto his other arm, now, and suddenly the odor of him has become unbearable. It’s nothing like anything you’ve smelled before.
Grimacing, you drop the washcloth and cover your nose with your hand, taking a step back. “What?” questions Addam, clearly confused. “What’s the matter?”
“Gods, you fucking stink. What is that?”
Addam laughs. He laughs, tension seeping out of him as he does. “It must be the dragon,” He claims, reaching out to grab your waist and pull you back towards him. “Don’t mind it, please.”
You’re unable to fight the smile you feel blooming, because despite the fact that your husband reeks of his new dragon sleeping outside your home, and your feet are sore from walking to the markets, only to find nothing, and your nerves are set ablaze thinking of his meeting with Rhaenyra, Addam is here. He’s here with you, holding you, safe in the comfort of your humble little home.
The feeling is fleeting, only settling in you for a moment, but you tip your head down to press a kiss to his mouth. “You must be vigilant,” You plead when you pull away, ignoring the way Addam’s lips seem to chase after yours. “And you must return to me. I do not know what I would do if I were to lose you.”
“I will be. I swear it.”
You brush away the dried blood on his cheek with the cloth, frowning. “We should leave, shouldn’t we? Fly to Essos, where we will be safe without the threat of war. That dragon is large enough to saddle three, isn’t it? We can go-“
A thumb soothingly presses against your lips, silencing you. “…If I can put the thing to use, it will strengthen us. Strengthen whatever I have with my father.”
Addam had always been desperate to get the same attention from Lord Corlys that Alyn had always seemed to receive after he’d saved the man. You’d never spoken to the Lord Velaryon yourself before, but it was hard to miss the way he’d stare at you when you visited your husband in the shipyard, almost melancholically.
“I do not care for jewels and gowns and for you to be gilded in glory, Addam,” You state, pushing his wrist away from your face. “I care for you. Should we not go now? I could find your brother.”
“No.” He shakes his head, standing from the bed, now towering over you. His fingers, callused from his seemingly never-ending work on Lord Corlys’s ship, caress your waist almost reverently.
Almost every inch of your skin heats up when Addam leans down to kiss your chest, right where your heart is. The skin is covered by the sea-blue gown you wear, a white apron tied about your waist, and you shudder at the feel of his lips on such an intimate spot.
He kisses up from your bosom to your mouth again, firm and sweet and longing. There’s no guarantee you’ll ever see him again, but some strange part of you feels that all will be well. It’s a naive thought, perhaps, but one you welcome nonetheless.
“I will come back to you,” He promises, voice rasping. “I love you.”
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mysticalmallard · 2 months
Text
Good weird
Description: Ghost girlfriend comes over to stay the night for the first time
Wordcount: 705
Warnings: none I think
CoD Masterlist 💀 Main Masterlist
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Ghost's normally dark and sparsely decorated apartment looked decidedly more lived-in that night as he waited for his girlfriend to arrive. He'd tidied up the place, made the bed, and even bought a vase of fresh flowers for the coffee table.
As the doorbell rang, he took a deep breath, feeling uncharacteristically nervous.
Opening the door, he saw his girlfriend standing there, a mixture of excitement and nerves on her face, with her bag on her shoulder. It was the first time she was spending the night at his place, and they both knew it was a significant step in their relationship.
Ghost stepped aside, allowing her to enter. The two of them stood awkwardly for a moment, both unsure how to break the silence.
His girlfriend smiled at him, her eyes taking in the small but clean apartment."I like your place," she said, her fingers tracing the edge of a chair. "It's very... you."
Ghost chuckled, a rare sound coming from him. "I try to keep things simple," he replied. "Less chance of making a mess."
She walked over to the vase of flowers on the coffee table, admiring them. "These are beautiful," she said, her fingers grazing the soft petals.
Ghost watched her, feeling a warmth bloom in his chest as he saw her enjoying his space.
"I wanted everything to be perfect," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "It's the first time you're spending the night here, I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable."
She turned to look at him, a soft smile on her face. "You don't need to try so hard, you know," she said, her voice full of affection. "I'm comfortable as long as I'm with you."
Ghost felt the weight of her words, the honesty and vulnerability in them soothing his nerves. He stepped closer to her, close enough that he could smell the sweetness of her shampoo.
"I'm not used to this," he said quietly, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from her face. "Having someone else in my space... It makes me feel...weird."
She placed her hand on his chest, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through him. "Good weird or bad weird?" she asked, her eyes searching his face.
He took a breath, the feel of her hand on his chest anchoring him. "Good weird," he replied, his voice low. He brought his hand up, covering hers with his own. "Just... uncharted territory for me."
They stood there for a moment, the silence between them now comfortable rather than awkward. Then, a flicker of mischief flashed in his girlfriend's eyes.
"You know, now that I'm here..." she drawled, stepping even closer to him, "there are some things we could... explore."
The implication hung in the air like a promise, and Ghost felt his heart rate pick up.
"Is that so?" he said, his voice going lower, huskier. He leaned in, his lips almost touching hers.
"Very much so," she replied, her breath ghosting over his skin. His hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb tracing softly over her bottom lip.
She smiled against his touch, then spoke, her voice laced with mischief. "Hey, you know what we should do?"
He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Enlighten me."
Her eyes lit up, an idea forming. She placed her hands on his waist, looking up at him with a cheeky grin.
"How about this," she suggested, "we have ourselves a little pampering day. I'll give you a massage, and we can watch some trashy TV. How does that sound?"
His eyes widened in surprise, not anticipating such a suggestion. But the idea of having her hands on him, taking care of him, was definitely appealing.
"A massage, huh?" he said, feigning nonchalance. "And what's in it for you?"
She moved even closer, her hands slipping under his shirt and trailing lightly across his bare skin. "Oh, I get the pleasure of seeing you all relaxed and blissed out. Trust me, it's a win-win."
Ghost fought to keep his cool, the shivers her touch was sending down his spine betraying his nonchalance. "You're lucky you're cute," he said, his hands snaking around her waist to pull her closer.
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Text
Smut/nsfw!
Corruption kink with dilf Miguel O'Hara.
Him getting back from HQ one day, tired and stressed, only to find you waiting for him at his place.
You're dressed in a pretty skirt, shoes off, and a white tank top underneath which he can see your hard nipples. And Jesus, you don't even know. You don't realize how it affects him.
When you see his dispair, you're just about bouncing with the need to aid him.
“Are you okay?” you question, walking up to him. Your pretty eyes look up at him, holding his gaze.
He's not sure what overcomes him, a sudden animalistic urge that has his cock hardening. “I'm okay, princesa,” he replies, voice growing thick.
“Are you sure?” you insist, hugging him around the waist. “Maybe I can help you...”
His huge hand cups your cheek, gently caressing your cheekbone before dragging his thumb over your lower lip, appreciating the way the soft, wet flesh gives to the pressure of his thumb.
He tries not to, but you're just such a good girl, so easy to convince...
“Well...there is one thing you could do...”
You jump at the opportunity. “Yeah? Yes? How?”
He kisses your lips tenderly, softly, teasing your tongue with his until your breath is heavy and you're pressing your body against his.
“Come here,” he says softly, grabbing you by the hips and picking you up. With ease, he carries you to the couch, sitting on it and pulling you onto his lap so you're straddling his hips.
You blush, pretty eyes widening at the position. He's never done anything like this. The most you two have done is cuddle and kiss; he's never even touched you.
Your hands hold onto his shoulders, keeping you steady. He squeezes your hips, his eyes dark as he watches your reaction. He loves to see you blush, the look of surprise and spark of arousal in your gaze.
“You okay, princesa?” he asks, feigning innocence.
You nod, swallowing thickly. He can't wait to teach you to swallow his load after you suck him off.
“Y-yeah,” you stutter, watching him attently.
He runs his nose across your jaw, nuzzling into your neck. “You wanna help me feel better?”
You shudder as his warm breath blows across your collarbone. “Yes,” you say softly.
He grabs your hips, starting to grind you against his thigh. You gasp, eyes widening, nails digging into his shoulders.
“M-Miguel?” Your voice is shaky, uneasy, a little whine escaping your lips.
“For me, yeah?” he says lowly, moving you against him, aching to eat you out, to slide his fingers into you, to fuck you hard and fast until you're dumb from ecstasy.
You nod. “O-okay,” you say, gasping silently as a shock of pleasure rushes up your spine.
You let him lead you, making you ride his thigh. He revels in the sounds you make, the way your slick drips through your panties and smears onto his pants. He wants to lick you, touch you, fuck you.
He contents himself with making you come on his thigh over and over again until you're shaking, eyes wide with shock and dark from satisfaction.
“Atta girl,” he says, voice deeper, thicker. He holds you as you come down from your high and he kisses your forehead.
“Do you feel better?” you ask breathlessly, body sweaty and eyes fluttering shut.
He grins. “Oh, definitely, princesa. I feel much better. But maybe there's one more favor you could do me...”
He waits for an answer even though the keen look in your eyes says it all.
You nod. “Yes.”
-----
@yagirlheree @sukioyakio @obi-mom-kenobi @celestia80s @manlikemilesmyguy @zaunsin @naniiiii12 @everlastlady @avatar-lover @siidmm @dhollandhs @spikedhe4rt @missing2socks @itzraven101 @miguelspookiebear @mochikomochisoft @sunset-euphoria @kishibeswh0re
*if you want me to add you to my taglist, comment or send me a message <3
-----
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starryhyuck · 10 months
Text
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pairing: ex!jaehyun x afab!reader
words: 9.2k+
summary: you left with jaehyun’s son three years ago. an opportunity arises that may push you together for better or for worse.
genre: angst, fluff, smut
warnings: penetrative sex, rough sex, public sex, daddy kink, pussy eating, cum eating, creampies, breeding kink, spanking, possessiveness, some yandere vibes
“Got yourself all dressed for dad?”
Your five-year-old son hums happily, thumbs looped through his backpack straps like he’s afraid it’s going to run away from him. You smile and comb your hands through his hair, slightly frightened by how fast he’s growing.
The knock on the door takes you out of your head before you can dwindle on how your son is slipping away from you. You smile at Jaehyun behind the door, who offers a tight-lipped one in return.
You kneel down once more and tap on your cheek. “Give me a kiss before you leave, sprout.”
Your son giggles before planting a messy kiss on your cheek, wrapping his tiny arms around your neck.
“Bye, mom! I love you!” He practically hops away from you in excitement, running into his dad’s arms with pure joy.
You nod politely at your ex, who wraps his arms around your son and holds him to his chest.
“Hey, little bear. Missed you,” Jaehyun laughs, kissing your son’s forehead.
“I missed you too, dad!”
You clear your throat. “Do you want me to come pick him up on Sunday?”
Jaehyun’s eyes return to you, cold and distant like they have been for the past three years. “I could drop him off, it’s no issue. I canceled all my meetings on Sunday.” You wonder if he’s trying to imply something, as if the time taken off means anything to you.
You brush it off. “Sounds good. Be good to your dad,” you give a final warning to your son, who does nothing but wave his hand in return.
You’re about to close the door until Jaehyun quietly speaks up. “I needed to ask you something.”
You ignore the loud sound of your heartbeat in your ears. You simply nod, urging him to continue. He clears his throat, feeling a bit awkward as your son impatiently waits for his dad to take him to his other house. It’s rare for Jaehyun to linger around like this.
“My parents — they’re having that annual anniversary party again in Seoul. They asked me to invite you.”
You’re surprised, to say the least. You haven’t been invited to an anniversary party since you and Jaehyun separated. His family was extremely heartbroken when you left and as a result, you haven’t communicated with them since. The anniversary party, however, was a huge celebration in the Jeong family. It was a mark of success since Jeong Corporation opened almost twenty years ago, and the company has now founded themselves as one of the largest in Seoul.
“Um,” you stutter, unsure of what to say. You understood what the anniversary party implied — one whole weekend with your former second family and more importantly, Jaehyun.
“Don’t- You don’t have to make a decision now. You can tell me on Sunday if you’re ready.”
You nod reluctantly, and he sends you another tight-lipped smile before departing. You watch as he and your son drive away, leaving a hole in your heart as they go.
“No way. He wants to fuck you again!”
“Johnny!” You scold, feeling extremely embarrassed already. “He is not! He’s just trying to be a good son, you know how he is.”
Johnny laughs sarcastically. “Yeah fucking right. Dude, it’s the Jeong anniversary party. That shit is photographed like crazy. He knows what he’s doing when he’s inviting you to go with him.”
“He’s not inviting me to go with him,” you clarify for him, even though Johnny is throwing you a side eye as you hand him a cup of warm tea. “He’s just inviting me to attend.”
He rolls his eyes. “Please. He’s been waiting for this moment with you for so long. Especially after you left him like that.”
You swing at Johnny’s arm, causing him to clutch it dramatically and hold the end of your kitchen counter as if you just shot him. You glare at him. Even though it was still a sore subject, he found a way to bring it into conversation from time to time since he thought it was the worst decision you had ever made.
It was three years ago when you left Jaehyun, taking your son and finding a new place all to yourselves. Jaehyun was shocked to say the least, heartbroken that the love of his life took his child and ran. It obviously wasn’t your first choice, but you spent too long waiting for him to come home only to be disappointed continuously. Jaehyun was just starting to become a big name within the company, wanting to work up the ladder and prove himself to his father and to the public. As a result, he spent most nights sleeping in his office and growing farther apart from you and your son. You reached a point where you couldn’t handle being abandoned any longer, leaving him and giving him his first wake-up call.
Jaehyun, like everyone else, thought you were only playing a game with him at first. No one believed you would actually separate from each other, especially because you two were so in love. However, you decided you needed to do what was right for your son. You couldn’t handle the lonely nights when your son would ask when his dad was coming home.
The custody agreement was simple, and Jaehyun agreed to whatever terms you laid out for him. You allowed your son to see Jaehyun every other weekend, and Jaehyun made sure to take work off whenever he had him. He was really trying, which you could see, but it wasn’t enough.
You’re not sure if it’ll ever be enough again.
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” you mumble to Johnny, already mentally rejecting the idea of attending the Jeong anniversary party. “I mean, you know us. Our feelings get carried away all the time.”
Johnny frowns. “Are you saying you still have feelings for him?”
You sigh. Johnny has been your number one support system since you left Jaehyun, and despite his help towards adjusting you to a life as a single mother, he always rooted for the two of you to get back together.
“That’s not what I’m saying,” you say clearly, stirring around the small spoon in your cup. You refuse to look up, knowing he can read you like an open book. “I’m just saying that being together for that long can cause cloudy judgment, you know? Plus, I don’t want anything to become confusing for all parties included.”
He shrugs, knowing you’re mainly talking about your son’s inability to understand why his mom and dad are suddenly spending time together. “I think the little sprout would like to have a weekend with both of his parents. He hasn’t had that since two birthdays ago.”
You recall your son’s third birthday party, which was the first festivity after the split. You awkwardly invited Jaehyun to come since you felt obligated, but it only resulted in tension while cutting the cake and opening presents.
“I know,” you whisper, feeling down. Your son asks you from time to time why his dad doesn’t stay when Jaehyun drops him off after a weekend together, and it always breaks your heart when you have to gently explain that his dad has work to attend to. Seeing the dejected look on your son’s face reminds you why you decided to leave in the first place. “But don’t you think it’s weird? Why would his family even want to see me again? I thought they hated me for leaving Jaehyun.”
“Yeah right,” Johnny laughs. “You saw the headlines after you guys split. Jaehyun started fighting so often with his parents. You know they loved you to death.”
“That might have been true before. I’m still the bitch who stomped all over their son’s heart and took their grandson away.”
“Hey,” Johnny scolds, hating when you speak lowly of yourself. “Anyone with eyes could see he was treating you miserably. It was completely fair for you to have temporary space.”
You ignore the fact that he implies the separation is still temporary.
“I’m just not sure, John. I don’t think it’s a smart idea.”
“Well, I think it’s a great one,” he smiles, brushing off your heated glare. “Listen, you can’t keep ignoring him like he’s the plague. If you don’t want the little sprout to have daddy issues when he’s older, you need to start getting along with Jae better. Just act civil, that’s all anyone’s asking of you.”
You chew on your bottom lip. “Will you come get me if I text you?”
“In a heartbeat.”
Your shoulders eventually slump in defeat, and Johnny throws his arms up in victory.
You’re extremely anxious when Sunday afternoon arrives, which is usually when Jaehyun comes by to bring your son back. You try to shake the nerves out and remind yourself to do what Johnny told you.
Just be civil. You can do that.
You nearly jump out of your socks when Jaehyun finally knocks on the door. You shakily open it, offering him a small smile as your son comes barging through. He attaches himself to your leg, grinning widely as he waves a new coloring book in his hand.
“Look what dad got me!”
“Wow,” you speak incredulously, kneeling down to give him a kiss. “That was very nice of him. Did you say thank you?”
“Yes!” He exclaims with glee. “Can I go color, please?”
You laugh. “Give your father a kiss goodbye first, sprout.”
Your son hurriedly kisses his father’s cheek when Jaehyun leans down, rushing off to his room afterwards.
You chuckle again. “You didn’t have to do that. Thank you.”
Jaehyun hums. “Of course. He really wanted it, and I wanted to do something special for him.”
You nod and the conversation settles into unbearable silence. You start gathering the courage to accept Jaehyun’s invitation before you wimp out but he talks before you can get the chance.
“Listen, about what I said on Friday, you can forget about it if it makes you uncomfortable. I didn’t want you to feel obligated, I just knew if I didn’t pass along the message, I would get hit on sight.”
You smile, thinking about how dangerous his mother could be when her son disobeys. “No, it’s completely fine. I mean, if it’s still okay with you, I would like to go.”
His eyes light up in surprise, and it’s the first time Jaehyun’s let his guard down with you in a while.
“Really? I didn’t think you’d want to.”
You shrug. “I think it would be nice. I’m sure the little sprout would enjoy a weekend with both of his parents too.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, smiling genuinely. You forgot how much you missed seeing him so happy, dimples peeking out. “I know he would. He was talking about how excited he was today, getting dressed in a little suit and everything.”
Your heart warms at the thought of your son dressed so handsomely. “He would be adorable. Center of the party, I’m sure.”
“Of course. You know my mother never misses a chance to show him off,” he chuckles.
“Well, I look forward to seeing what they’re going to try and pull off this year. I’m assuming your mother is making it as lavish as possible,” you joke, knowing how elated his mother was when the Jeong Corporation finally gained enough funding to throw a large-scale party.
“You know it,” he agrees, eyes sparkling in the way they used to. “I could, um, I could give you more details if you’d like.”
“Oh,” you say, feeling slightly flushed. “Sure, that sounds nice.” You open the door wider for him, stepping back so he can come inside.
It’s the first time you’ve really invited Jaehyun in. He came once for your son’s birthday party and a few other times because your son really wanted to show Jaehyun some toys from his room, but never once fully initiated by you.
“Can I heat up some coffee or tea for you?” You ask politely.
“Coffee would be wonderful, thank you,” he says, following you to the kitchen.
He takes a seat on one of the kitchen stools — the same spot where Johnny told you that Jaehyun clearly wanted to fuck you again. You clear your throat, tossing the memory aside.
“So, is there a dress code for the party? Do I need to go out and get anything?” You question, starting to brew Jaehyun’s favorite blend. The both of you choose to ignore the fact that you still remember how to make his coffee just the way he likes it.
“They were endorsing a blue and white theme this year, but you don’t have to follow those rules, of course,” he assures you.
You shake your head, turning back to him and smiling. “I will one hundred percent abide by that dress code. You know how picky those businesspeople are.”
He chuckles to himself, fiddling with his fingers nervously. You wonder if he’s just as anxious as you are.
“Right, forgot about that. So I’ll come pick up you and the little bear Friday night?”
You nod. “That would be nice. Thanks, Jaehyun.”
“Of course,” he replies, thanking you when you hand him his coffee. “The party shouldn’t last for more than two to three hours on Saturday, but you know how my father gets with the speeches.”
“He’s just proud, that’s all. It’s not everyday a company you built from the ground turns so successful.”
He nods. “Every company comes with its sacrifices though.”
You swallow at him alluding to your separation. Luckily, you’re saved by your son, who comes running into the kitchen.
“Dad!” He exclaims happily. “You’re still here!”
Jaehyun laughs. “Just having a conversation with your mom, little bear. Did you color something already?”
Your son nods, already eager to showcase his coloring skills. Jaehyun situates him on his lap, listening as your son details the process of what colors he chose and what the monkey is doing exactly in the picture.
You grow fond at the sight, not seeing Jaehyun with your son like this in so long. You never doubted that Jaehyun loved him with his entire heart, you just always wished he made more time for the both of you.
“And who did you color this for, little bear?” Jaehyun asks softly, kissing his son’s temple.
“Mom, of course!” Your son says with certainty, and Jaehyun helps him rip the picture out of the book so he can hand it to you.
“Thank you so much, sprout. I’ll cherish it forever,” you promise, clutching the paper to your chest.
Your son has an affinity for coloring and drawing, and as a result, most of your fridge and walls were covered in his artwork.
“I’ll make one for you too, dad,” your son swears, wiggling out of Jaehyun’s arms until he’s back on the floor. The both of you watch him zoom off, warning him not to run too fast.
Jaehyun smiles. “I should get him those coloring books for adults. I feel like he would love them.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Yeah right. He only enjoys these because they have animals in them. Give him a crazy pattern and he’ll give up coloring forever.”
He laughs before agreeing with you. A part of you missed this — the happy laughter and talks of your son with someone who also wanted the best for him.
“My mother’s set up a private cabin for us for the weekend,” he shares, avoiding your stare. “But I can always have the driver take you and the little bear back here if that makes you uncomfortable.”
“Oh,” you say, briefly surprised by the fact that Jaehyun’s mother set all of you together. You would think she wants you as far away from her son as possible.
Jaehyun takes your response badly, face twisting into a grimace. “It’s no problem. I’ll tell Doyoung that you would prefer coming back here instead of staying the weekend.”
“No!” You exclaim, flushing by how loud your voice rose. “I mean, I was just shocked your mother did that for us. I thought she didn’t like me anymore.”
Jaehyun’s eyebrows shot up. “My mother? The same one that wanted to buy us an island when we told her about the pregnancy?”
You chuckle. “That was out of the kindness of her heart, Jaehyun.”
“Please,” he scoffs. He takes the coffee mug you hold out for him. “She loves you more than anything. Nothing between us would change that.”
You smile, ignoring the nerves slowly creeping up every inch of your body.
“Johnny, put that back!”
“Why? It’s sexy!”
You grab one of your throw pillows and chuck it at Johnny’s head. He dodges just in time, rolling his eyes and putting your lingerie back in your drawer.
“I’m just saying, you never know what’s going to happen. You’ll regret it later when you’re trying to fuck Jaehyun and you have nothing but granny panties.”
“I regret asking you to help me pack,” you sigh, trying your best to fit everything you need this weekend for you and your son in a small suitcase.
“I’m going to ignore that comment since I’m willingly giving up my Friday afternoon for you. When was the last time you went shopping?” He asks.
It actually takes you a minute to stop and think about your answer. Ever since your son was born, your wardrobe has mainly consisted of haphazard pajamas. The only time you really went out and purchased clothes is if you were attending one of Jaehyun’s fancy events.
“All of these clothes are way out of season! How have I not noticed this before?” Johnny complains, rifling through your drawers. “We need to go shopping.”
You groan. “It’s too late for that. Jaehyun is picking us up tonight!”
The doorbell rings and you sigh again, massaging your temples in an attempt to make the headache go away. Johnny takes pity on you and answers the front door himself. You hear hushed whispers before he comes back into your bedroom, a smile on his face as he carries a large box in his hands.
Your eyebrows furrow. “What’s that?”
“A special delivery from one Mr. Jeong Jaehyun,” Johnny replies, a smirk evident on his lips.
You’re still trying to recover from the shock of Jaehyun sending you anything before you realize Johnny’s ripping open the box. He looks like a kid on Christmas morning and you can’t help but lean over to see it too.
In the box is a beautiful, satin white dress that looks like a red wine lover’s worst nightmare. However, you can barely focus on the color when you can recognize exactly where this dress is from.
“Dude,” Johnny says in a small voice, sounding breathless. “It’s your wedding dress.”
And if this wasn’t your wedding dress — it sure as hell looked a lot like it. You remember the day you picked it out, insisting on going for a modern style instead of a princess ball gown. It was a simple, off-shoulder, stark white dress that you envisioned yourself wearing while walking down the aisle to Jaehyun.
And three years ago, you cried when you donated it to a local thrift store, refusing to continue to store memories of what could’ve been in the back of your closet.
You thought you would never see it again.
“He said the theme was blue and white, right?”
Johnny brings you out of your train of thought. You cough, avoiding his questioning gaze.
“Yeah.”
“Hm.”
“What?”
You narrow your eyes at his suggestive tone. He shrugs.
“I think you’re going to have an interesting trip.”
“Hi, dad!”
“Hi, little bear!”
Your heart melts at the sight of Jaehyun and your son together. Jaehyun’s all smiles while he straps your son into his carseat, dimples peeking out. Once he’s settled, he turns to you as he shuts the car door. You awkwardly step around each other as he helps you with your bags and you slip into the front seat.
The drive to the cabin you’ll be staying at for the weekend is about an hour from your place, which means you have two choices — you could pretend to sleep and avoid speaking to Jaehyun altogether, or you could bite the bullet and make as much small talk as you possibly can.
Jaehyun makes the decision for you.
“So how’s work?”
You muster a smile. “It’s alright. I think I’m going to get promoted soon.”
He laughs. “It’s about time. I’ve never seen anyone else at that company work harder than you.”
You stutter at the compliment. You always forget how charming Jaehyun is, and how easy it is for him to make you feel like a teenager all over again.
You can’t hold back your next question. “Where did you find it? The dress?”
His fingers tighten on the wheel.
“It’s just a dupe I found online.”
But the response sounds too rehearsed. Too practiced. It’s almost like he had been preparing himself for when you would inquire about it.
“Jaehyun,” you whisper, and he knows you can tell that he’s lying.
He sighs, looking through the rearview mirror to check if your son has already drifted off before proceeding. “When you donated it, Doyoung found out and I asked him to buy it back. I know it’s your dream dress, and it’s my fault you never got to wear it. I just wanted you to have a night where you could finally show it off.”
You don’t know why, but you feel tears welling up in your eyes. The idea that Jaehyun kept your dress for you all these years tugged at your heartstrings. If the dress was a reminder to you of your failed relationship, you can’t imagine what he felt when he came across it in his own home every single day.
You turn your head to look out the window so he wouldn’t see your crushed expression.
“You didn’t have to.”
“I did. You deserve at least that, and so much more. For now, unfortunately, this is all I can give you.”
The two of you remain silent for the rest of the trip and you’re relieved when he pulls into the cabin’s driveway. You both fall into a familiar pattern as you get out to grab your son and he heads to the trunk to take out your luggage. You’re careful to unbuckle your son from his carseat in fear of waking him, and you relax when he’s in your arms, still sound asleep.
Jaehyun opens the front door and you marvel at the beauty of the cabin once you’re inside. You’re not surprised in the slightest that Jaehyun’s mother hooked you up with an extremely lavish place for the weekend.
“Upstairs, first door to the right,” Jaehyun whispers, and you realize he’s telling you where your son will be sleeping.
After you’ve tucked him in and made sure he’s out for the night, you tiptoe back downstairs.
Jaehyun looks like he doesn’t know what to do with himself, fumbling around with the television remote, pacing in front of the entertainment dock.
“So, um, what room will I be in?”
“Oh yeah,” he says uncomfortably, quickly grabbing your luggage. “Let me show you.”
He leads you down a hallway off from the living room, opening one of the many doors and setting your stuff inside.
“Here’s your room. I, um, I’m just across the hall. There’s also another room upstairs if you want to sleep closer to the little bear but it’s a lot smaller and doesn’t have a connecting bathroom so I figured-“
“This is great, Jaehyun. Thank you.”
He clears his throat and nods, quickly shuffling out of the room. He pauses in the entryway as he’s closing the door, something clearly lingering on his mind.
“You don’t have to wear the dress tomorrow, it was inconsiderate of me to assume you would want to. I’ll have Doyoung pick up something different in the morning for you to wear.”
Before you could protest, the door shuts. You sigh and run your hands down your face.
This was going to be a long weekend.
You and Jaehyun barely exchange any words the next day.
As promised, a new, navy blue dress hangs outside your door when you wake up. You fail to confront Jaehyun about it since he spends most of the morning playing with your son at a nearby creek. In all honesty, you want to wear your wedding dress. On the outside, it wasn’t too flashy since you refused to add a train or any embellishments, and it was perfect for a formal event like the anniversary party. On the inside, everything Jaehyun said yesterday was correct — this was your dream dress, and you wanted to just have this one occasion to finally show it off.
You call Johnny before Jaehyun and your son return, and he happily picks up on the second ring.
“Got fucked yet?”
“You’re despicable.”
Johnny’s joyous laughter is grating to your ears.
“It’s so awkward, Johnny. We had this weird conversation about the dress so he had Doyoung get me a new one, but I actually really want to wear my wedding dress. Is that crazy?”
“Nope,” he replies, popping the last syllable for emphasis. “I think you’re just afraid of what wearing the dress means for you.”
“What are you talking about?”
He clicks his tongue, and you can picture him shaking his head at your alleged stupidity. “Think about it. The last time you wore this dress, you were engaged and about to marry the love of your life. Don’t you think wearing it again is going to spark up any old feelings?”
You ponder over the idea for a moment before shaking your head. Johnny was wrong — you just wanted to wear this dress because you liked it. You convince yourself there are no lingering feelings you should be worrying about.
“You’re full of shit.”
“Uh huh. We’ll see about that.”
However, later that night when you slip into the dress, you understand exactly what Johnny was talking about. You used to have vision boards of this dress plastered on your living room walls, picking what flowers and color scheme you wanted to compliment it. You remember Johnny even photoshopping you in this dress next to Jaehyun in his suit, the both of you standing in front of what was supposed to be your dream venue.
The memories come back to you like a tidal wave. Jaehyun planning the perfect dinner for the two of you when you were six months pregnant. Jaehyun proposing to you that night, tears in his eyes as he confessed how much he loved you. Welcoming your son into the world three months later. Trying on the dress again after his birth, worrying your body would look too different. Jaehyun getting the dress re-tailored for you when your insecurities started to affect your daily life. Your son crying night after night while his father stayed late working in his office. Postponing the wedding every year because Jaehyun was too busy. Shoving the dress in the back of your closet because you couldn’t stand to see it any longer. Finally getting the courage to pack up your things and leave, taking the dress with you. Giving it away when you felt like you needed to close this chapter of your life. The chapter where Jaehyun was supposed to be your eternal love.
You don’t even realize you’re crying until the door creaks open.
“Mom, why are you sad?”
You immediately straighten yourself and wipe away your tears, turning to see your son at the door with his head tilted in concern. You laugh when you see his suit is half buttoned.
“I’m not sad, little sprout,” you smile, walking over to him and scooping him in your arms. “I’m so excited for tonight! Look at my handsome boy!”
He giggles when you press kisses to his cheek.
“Mom,” he whines. “Help me!”
You keep your smile on as you help him fix his suit, and you hear the door creak open again when you’re on the last button.
If Jaehyun notices the redness in your eyes, he doesn’t comment on it.
“Little bear, why don’t you finish your dinner before we head out? Don’t want you getting hungry.”
Your son obediently follows Jaehyun’s orders once you’re finished buttoning his suit, running to the kitchen to eat his meal.
You walk back to the full length mirror in the corner of the room in an attempt to make yourself look as presentable as possible. You can feel his eyes on you, burning a hole in your back.
“You look beautiful.”
You falter, fingers shakily trying to put your earring on. “Thank you.”
“I thought you wanted to wear a different dress.”
“No, I actually want to wear this one.”
“Oh, okay.” A pause. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Jaehyun. Can you make sure Doyoung has coloring books and crayons in the car? In case the little sprout gets bored.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that,” he nods, and you lock eyes with him in the mirror.
He doesn’t say anything else but you know he’s worried about you. He purses his lips before closing the door, and you sigh in relief when you hear his footsteps fade away.
“Nice to see you again.”
You grin as you envelope Doyoung in a hug. The last time you saw Jaehyun’s assistant was almost three years ago at the last anniversary party you attended. Doyoung had always been a very loyal right-hand man to Jaehyun, and he used to be one of the constants in your life.
“You look gorgeous,” he compliments, his bunny teeth peeking out.
You thank him and he helps you and your son climb into the car, Jaehyun following after. Doyoung takes the driver’s seat and rolls up the partition so you can have some privacy. You wish he would do the opposite and make small talk with you, especially since you could cut the tension between you and Jaehyun with a knife.
Your son is seated between the two of you and he plays a helpful role in the awkward atmosphere. He starts asking Jaehyun questions about the party and who will be there, which Jaehyun answers patiently as your son bombards him with question after question.
You start fiddling with the fabric of your dress, the satin slipping between your fingers. When you look up, you see Jaehyun’s eyes locked on you, and it makes you wonder how differently this picture would have looked years ago.
This car would’ve been driving to your wedding venue with your son as the ring bearer. You would be leaning over to capture every moment of Jaehyun’s lips before you would have to kiss in front of hundreds of guests, a thought that always rattled you. You would have a bouquet of daisies bunched up in your hand, similar to the ones Jaehyun gave you on your first date. You would be scared of your veil tearing, trying your best to make sure your son didn’t accidentally rip it. All while Jaehyun stares at you like you hold the world in your hands, his fingers interlacing with yours to assure you everything would be okay.
You imagine he’s thinking the same as you if the longing in his eyes is anything to go by. But then the car hits a speed bump, forcing you to break eye contact. He returns to answering your son’s questions and you start playing with your dress again.
When you finally arrive at the Jeong Corporation building, you’re immediately greeted by your former mother-in-law.
She wraps you in her arms as soon as you step out of the car, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say she’s trying to strangle you by the sheer force of her strength.
“My favorite daughter!”
You flush at the greeting, remembering it was her favorite nickname for you. You catch Jaehyun carrying your son from the corner of your eye, his ears blooming red from embarrassment.
“Hi, Mrs. Jeong,” you reply, reciprocating her embrace.
She releases you to step back and take a look at your form. She looks exactly the same as she did three years ago, and you feel her manicured hand stroke your cheek.
“Look at you. Still so beautiful.”
You smile, slowly feeling your nerves dissipate. Maybe Johnny was right — maybe Jaehyun’s family didn’t actually hate you, they just missed you.
Her gaze flickers to her grandson, and she coos at him as she takes him from Jaehyun.
“And here’s my strong tiger! So handsome tonight!”
“Grandma!” Your son exclaims happily, chubby hands wrapping around her neck.
She gestures for you and Jaehyun to follow her inside the building as she begins walking. You share a glance with him before coming to a silent agreement, looping your arm through his in an attempt to show solidarity. You ignore the ache in your feet and the thumping of your heart, keeping your eyes trained on Jaehyun’s mom animatedly speaking to your son. She guides you to the conference room on the main floor, where the party is being held.
She turns to you once you’re at the entrance. “I’m going to take him to meet Yoojin, she’s been begging to meet my grandson. And don’t you two worry, I’ll take him back with us when the party’s over. He needs to spend some quality time with his grandparents! Have a fun night together!”
And before you can protest, she’s disappeared into the crowd, taking your son along for the ride.
Jaehyun curses. “I’m sorry. Let me catch her and let her know we want him to come back to the cabin with us.”
You stop him with a firm tug on his arm. He stares at you in confusion.
“It’s okay, let her take him. She’s right — he hasn’t had quality time with his grandparents for a while.”
He slowly nods and slips his arm back through yours. You both don’t know where to begin for the night now that your conversation helper is gone. The first stop you choose is the open bar while Jaehyun starts his formal thank you parade around the floor. You’re waiting for your drink when you feel a tap on your shoulder.
You turn to see Seulgi, who is practically beaming at you.
“I was wondering if it was you!” She giggles and hugs you tightly.
Seulgi worked as head of marketing for Jeong Corporation, and you used to chat with her quite a lot whenever you visited Jaehyun in the office.
“I can’t believe you’re here, I haven’t seen you in forever,” she hums, sitting on the barstool next to you. She tells the bartender her order before focusing back on you. “How have you been?”
“I’m good,” you chuckle, a little floored by her presence. You forgot that attending this party meant you would also be running into all of Jaehyun’s colleagues that you used to be friendly with. “How have you been?”
She huffs. “Swamped with work, but this party is always a nice change of pace. Did you come with Jaehyun?”
You also remember how Seulgi doesn’t beat around the bush.
“Yes, I came with him and our son.”
“Oh, I have to see him before I leave. I bet he’s all grown up now,” she murmurs. “So you’re all back together then?”
“No, no,” you deny, thanking the bartender when your drink arrives. “Jaehyun just invited me as a plus one this year. Or plus two, I guess.”
She hums noncommittally, throwing a mischievous side eye. Actually, in this moment, you realize how much she resembles Johnny.
You feel a hand graze your back. You look up to see Jaehyun, who’s throwing a timid smile in Seulgi’s direction.
“Sorry, can I steal her for a bit?”
Seulgi smirks knowingly. “You can have her for as long as you need, Mr. Jeong.”
His eyes narrow at her before he’s leading you away from the bar, his hand still sitting firmly on your lower back.
“Sorry to interrupt your conversation,” he apologizes in your ear, sending shivers down your spine at the proximity. “I need you to be my shield for these terribly boring conversations or I’ll melt into a puddle on the floor.”
You giggle. “So you’re throwing me into the dumpster fire?”
“More like I’m having you join me in the flames.”
The rest of the night eases your nerves more and more, and it gets to the point where you’re falling back into your old harmony with Jaehyun. You’re exchanging raised eyebrows when people aren’t looking, sharing your portion of small talk with the guests who approach you, and whispering in each other’s ears when a funny joke pops up. Jaehyun’s mom even swings by with your son a couple of times, giving you and Jaehyun the opportunity to spend some time with him together. You even manage to skirt around the straining questions if you two are back together, telling people you’re just here as friendly co-parents.
Despite that, for the first time in a long time, you felt like a family again.
By the end of the night, you’re climbing back into the car with Jaehyun while his parents wave you off, holding your son in their arms and assuring they’ll take good care of him.
Once they disappear out of view, you sink back and relax. Jaehyun laughs at you.
“Long night, huh?”
“My feet are killing me,” you complain, undoing the straps of your heels and tossing them aside.
His hand instantly comes to your neck, slowly massaging the tense muscles. You remember how he used to do that after every socially draining event you attended, and you lean into his touch.
“Thank you.”
The car runs into another speed bump and the movement causes you to grip onto Jaehyun’s arm, pushing your body into his. You gasp and he grabs your waist to steady you.
His hand feels like someone took a searing hot iron to your skin, and you grip his palm out of instinct. Your eyes glance over at him and you find he’s already looking at you, his other hand still resting steady against your pulse.
You don’t know who moves first.
The next sequence of events passes in a flurry, lips smashing together sloppily, hands flying around. You moan into his mouth and he unbuckles both of your seatbelts so you can climb onto his lap.
“Jae,” you groan, feeling his hands lift up your dress, sneaking up your thighs.
“I fucking missed you,” he says, sucking at your neck.
“Please, Jae,” you whimper, hands curled on the collar of his suit.
His hand firmly cups your clothed cunt and you whine loudly. You missed this — missed how rough he would get with you, how he would take you in front of anyone and everyone just to prove you were his. It’s why you got pregnant way before you planned to, and how you uncovered his desire to fill you raw.
“So fucking wet. This pussy’s all wet for me, isn’t that right?” He hisses in your ear, his deep voice causing you to soak your panties even more.
“Just for you, only for you,” you promise.
He captures your lips again as he pushes your underwear to the side, thumb circling your clit. You cry, hips starting to move on their own accord.
You admit, it’s been a long time since you were intimate with anyone, and it’s made you quite sensitive as a result.
“Want to feel it, baby,” his tongue traces your lower lip. You can start to feel drool pooling out of the corners of your mouth, but you know Jaehyun doesn’t care. If anything, he loves it when you’re sloppy like this. “Want to feel you cum around my fingers. Can you do that for me?”
It’s almost as if his words trigger something deep inside of you, because as soon as two fingers slip in, you’re already reaching your climax. He lets you ride out your high, hips moving back and forth on his fingers as if he was just a toy for your pleasure.
“God, you’re so fucking hot. Want to breed you so badly, baby.”
You gasp at the thought, pulling him into another searing kiss.
And that’s how Doyoung finds you, straddling Jaehyun’s lap with remnants of your orgasm leaking onto his trousers, lips desperately connected for more.
“Um, we’re back.”
You almost scream and Jaehyun pulls you closer to protect you. In your lustful haze, you failed to realize the car had come to a complete stop and Doyoung had opened the door to help you get out.
You’re incredibly embarrassed but Doyoung used to catch you in way more compromising positions before — one time, he had to uncomfortably barge in on Jaehyun fucking you over his desk because one of his shareholders was about to come in for an important meeting. So the fact that you’re still clothed lessens your shame.
You and Jaehyun waste no time, scrambling out of the car and quickly thanking Doyoung before sprinting into the cabin.
As soon as the door’s closed, Jaehyun’s on his knees, pushing up your dress and dragging your hips until you’re perfectly seated on his face. You hear the rip of your underwear but you don’t even care, fingers flying to grip his hair.
“Pretty girl,” he mumbles, tongue darting out to lick at your folds. His hands grasp your thighs, hard enough to leave bruises. “Ride my face, baby. Like you used to in those stuffy restaurant bathrooms, remember?”
Of course you remember. Every time Jaehyun brought you along to a boring business dinner, you always ended up riding his face in the bathroom just to make the night more interesting.
You channel that feeling you used to get, pushing your cunt on his tongue until you start to feel your wetness dripping down your thighs. You can hear the squelch of your pussy riding Jaehyun’s tongue, and it makes your hips move even faster to chase your release.
“S-So fucking g-good, Daddy,” you whine, your climax building in your stomach. “Gonna cum for you.”
You feel him push away in favor of sucking on your clit, three fingers prodding at your entrance. You cry at the intrusion.
“Too much, Daddy!”
“Gotta get you prepped, baby. You remember how hard it is for you to take my cock?”
You couldn’t forget. Jaehyun had to have the perfect body, almost like he was sculpted by the gods. This meant that he was extremely well endowed and most nights, it usually took a lot of prep for him to even fit halfway into your pussy.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hiss when his fingers curl. “Gonna cum, gonna cum.”
You have never felt more grateful to Jaehyun’s mom until that moment, because the sound of your loud moans would normally be leading towards a noise complaint from the neighbors, but since the cabin was the only house for miles, you could be as loud as you want.
Jaehyun coaxes you through your high, abusing your clit until you beg him to stop, pushing him away from the overstimulation.
When he rises up on his feet, it’s like you two are teenagers again. He’s scrambling to take off your dress without damaging it and you’re clumsily pulling at his belt buckle until it gives. Once your dress has fallen to the ground, he throws his suit jacket somewhere and steps out of his slacks.
“No bra?” He groans, mouth immediately latching onto your nipple.
“Doesn’t- fuck, I can’t wear it with the dress. The straps will show.”
He picks you up like a ragdoll, and you find yourself being thrown over the coffee table, breaking at least three mugs along the way.
“Jae, be careful,” you try to scold him.
He doesn’t give a single fuck, taking his cock out and giving himself a few strokes.
“Raw, baby?”
You whimper, spreading your thighs apart in anticipation. “Yes, please, Daddy!”
The stretch of taking him is not unfamiliar, but it definitely fucking hurts.
“Fuck, fuck, you’re so fucking big,” you wail, hands gripping his shoulders.
“Have you fucked anyone else? Let anyone else inside what belongs to me?” He asks you, his gaze growing more intense.
There’s that possessiveness you remember. You recall every time anyone would try to flirt with you, Jaehyun would drag you home and fuck you until you cried just to show no one else could make you feel like he does. There was even one instance where he fingered you in front of some poor guy at a club, forcing him to watch as you screamed Jaehyun’s name.
“Just one guy,” you hastily confess. “Johnny set us up but he wasn’t good. He wasn’t anything like you, Daddy.”
He nearly growls at the mention of another man being intimate with you, hands pushing your thighs closer to your chest so he can sink deeper into you.
“I’ll kill him,” he whispers harshly down at you. You open your mouth and he’s fast to spit into it, watching you swallow. “I’ll fucking kill anyone who touches what’s mine.”
You groan, pulling him down so you can kiss him. He starts to thrust into you and it’s like you can feel yourself being split in half.
“Don’t act so innocent,” you breathe into his lips. “I’m sure you did the same.”
“Haven’t fucked anyone since you left,” he admits, bottoming out. You mewl and bring him closer. “I watch those movies we used to make and cum into my hand, wishing it was yours. Isn’t that pathetic?”
Early in your relationship, you and Jaehyun used to make a collection of home movies for your eyes only. It ranged from fucking in your old childhood bed to getting railed on a balcony in Paris. It used to be something for you two to look at when you missed each other, but you haven’t seen one in years. Knowing that he still gets off to them makes you even more wet.
“Fuck, you just got so tight, baby,” he groans. “You like knowing that I can only cum to the thought of you? That I picture filling you up every night, imagining you begging for my cock? Does that turn you on, baby?”
You curse loudly, body feeling like it’s on fire. His fingers trail down to pinch your clit and that sends you over the edge, crying and whimpering as you reach your third orgasm of the night.
Your limbs feel like jelly, but you know Jaehyun’s not even halfway done. He made you orgasm six times in one night before, and ever since then, he’s been trying to beat his record.
You feel him lift you up, still attached to his cock.
“I-I can’t, Jae,” you plead, but you know it’s no use anyways.
He places you down in front of the hallway mirror, where a long table stands beneath it, filled with small trinkets and ornaments. He’s quick to push them off, and you wince when you hear glass breaking.
“Jae-“
“Don’t give a fuck, baby. I’ll replace it later. Hands on the table, eyes on the mirror.”
He turns you around so your ass is facing him, and you whine when he gives it a hard slap. You obey his instructions, placing your palms on the wood and focusing on his predatory look in the mirror.
As he pushes back into you, his hand snakes around your middle, pulling you back onto his cock.
“Tell me,” he taunts in your ear. “Tell me how much you missed me.”
“S-So much,” you sniffle. “I fuck myself with that toy you bought me and I pretend it’s you.”
“Yeah?” He snickers, offering another slap to your ass. “What else?”
“I miss you all the time. Miss how I could go to your office and ride you before your next meeting. Miss sucking your cock dry before you left for work. Miss you filling me up until it was dripping out of my pussy.”
He groans, pressing his face into your shoulder and biting down.
“Tell me,” you whisper, starting to feel vulnerable. “Tell me how much you missed me.”
“You know how much I missed you, baby,” he replies, eyes locked on yours through the mirror. “You know and you never need to ask.”
And there’s no other words that need to be said, because you understand exactly what he means. You almost begin to cry at the thought of him coming home to an empty house, searching through every room for you and your son and finding nothing but empty drawers and naked bed sheets.
“Don’t be sad, baby,” he murmurs, gently thrusting into you. “You know I deserved it.”
“I missed you,” you choke out. “I missed you, I missed you, I missed you.”
He tilts the side of your face and pulls you into a kiss, railing you deeper and deeper until your toes scrape the floor.
“Please cum in me, Jae. Please, I need it,” you beg.
“Are you back on birth control, baby?”
You shake your head. “No, but it’s okay. Cum in me raw, it’s okay.”
“Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“I do, and I want it,” you whisper to him, interlacing your fingers. “It’s okay, Jae. Fill up my pussy, baby.”
He curses loudly before releasing inside of you, filling you until his cum starts to drip down your thighs.
He’s quick to drop back down to his knees, pulling you to his mouth again so he can send you to another orgasm. You tell him you don’t need another one but he doesn’t listen, fervently eating his cum out of your pussy like it’s his last meal.
You reach your high just like that, with his tongue deep inside you and your hands still gripping the hallway table.
When you come down, he lifts you bridal style and carries you to your bathroom.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, baby.”
You wake up to the sound of birds chirping and a large heater pressed against your back. Except the large heater is actually your ex-fiancé, who’s snoring loudly in your ear.
You smile fondly, thinking about the previous night. You reach to check your phone on the nightstand, and roll your eyes at your unread text messages.
[johnnyjsuh]: so what happened? did he fuck you?
[johnnyjsuh]: oh he FOR SURE fucked you, you’re not even reading my texts rn
[johnnyjsuh]: just confirmed with doyoung
[johnnyjsuh]: have fun whore
You feel Jaehyun stir behind you and you place your phone down. He kisses your temple.
“Mm, good morning, baby. Breakfast in bed?”
You smile at the thought and nod, watching him get up and pull on his boxers. However, there’s a lingering voice in the back of your head and you wish you could stop it before it grows, but it’s impossible.
“Jae?” You question before he’s out the door, and he pauses to look at you. “Why did you never get mad?”
He blinks a few times, processing your question. He walks over and sits at the edge of the bed, and you sit up to look at him properly.
“Why would I get mad? You were doing what was best for you and the little bear.”
“But I never told you. I just-“ you place your head in your hands, guilt washing over you. “I just left you.”
You feel him taking your hands away from your face and he tilts your chin up so he can look at you.
“It was a bad situation, and I caused it. You were right — I never came home, I was overworking myself to prove something to the public, and I lost everything because of it. I needed that wake-up call from you. And I should’ve fought for you, I should’ve begged you to come back, but I couldn’t make myself do it. I convinced myself that you were better off without me, and that the little bear deserved a father who was always present. It’s all my fault and I never want to see you blame yourself for my wrongs.”
You frown, taking your hands in his and staring into his eyes.
“Do you really believe that? That all of the blame should’ve fallen on you?”
He nods meekly, suddenly too embarrassed to meet your stare, looking down at the sheets.
“Jae,” you sigh. “You know our relationship held equal weight on both sides. Did I wish you were more present for us? Of course. But it’s also my fault for never communicating to you how frustrated I was. I just didn’t know how, and it resulted in me running away from the problem instead of working through it. I think about that day all the time — what would’ve happened if I just waited for you to come home? What would’ve happened if I told you how I was feeling? It was too difficult for me to process and as much as I was confident in my decision, a part of me wishes I would’ve stayed and talked through it.”
“But you should’ve never been in that position in the first place,” he replies, looking more heartbroken than you’ve ever seen him. “I knew I was working way too hard for something that might not even be achievable. I was so desperate to be accepted that I forgot about my family. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”
Your eyes well with tears and you wonder how long he’s carried this guilt with him. You lean over and press a soft kiss to his lips.
“I love you,” you whisper, hands still desperately clutching his. “If you promise me that this time will be different, I want us to be together again. To try and be a family again.”
His eyes sparkle with hope and he kisses you again.
“I promise. I promise I’m here for our family. I’m going to be a better partner and a better father. Thank you.”
“And?” You raise an eyebrow and he laughs, nuzzling his head into your neck playfully.
“And I love you. More than anything in this world.”
His lips chase you until your head hits the pillow. You whine when his hand roughly clutches your waist.
“We-“ he starts to say, kissing down your neck. “We have to go pick up the little bear.”
“In a minute,” you respond, wanting to savor this moment with him. “Let me suck you off first.”
He groans. “Fuck, don’t say shit like that, baby. If we’re on limited time, you know I’m making sure I get you pregnant before you walk out that door.”
You moan. “I’m pretty sure you already did that last night.”
“You never know until a couple of tries later, right?”
He moves to drop his boxers but then he suddenly remembers something, looking bashful as he glances down at you.
“What? What is it?”
“I was a little too rough last night and well, I think your dress got the receiving end of most of it.”
“Jaehyun!”
“I’m sorry, I tried my best not to damage it!”
You roll your eyes and turn over, pushing yourself on your hands and knees.
“Put a baby in me and I’ll forgive you.”
“I fucking love you.”
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heejake-hoon · 3 months
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Sunghoon helping you fall asleep by eating you out
warning: smut, mdni, the title is self explanatory..
You toss and turn restlessly, mind racing with the stresses of the day. No matter how hard you try, you can't seem to shut off your brain.
Beside you, Sunghoon stirs, cracking one eye open to peer at you blearily. "Can't sleep?" he asks, voice rough with exhaustion.
You sigh, rolling over to face him. "No," you admit, running a frustrated hand through your hair. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
Sunghoon hums, reaching out to tuck a stray lock behind your ear, fingers lingering on your cheek. "S'okay. Anything I can do to help?"
You start to shake your head, but then pause, a thought occurring to you. Biting your lip, you slide closer, draping a leg over his hip suggestively. "Actually... I can think of one thing that always helps me relax..."
Even in the darkness, you can see Sunghoon's eyes darken with understanding, a slow smile curving his mouth. "Oh?" he murmurs, hand sliding down to palm your ass, pulling you more firmly against him. "And what might that be, baby?"
In answer, you push at his shoulders until he's flat on his back, swinging a leg over to straddle him. Sunghoon's hands automatically come up to grip your hips, thumbs rubbing teasing circles into your skin as you grind down against his growing hardness.
"Want you to make me feel good," you breathe, leaning down to brush your lips over his. "Want that talented tongue of yours between my thighs. Think you can do that for me, Hoonie?"
Sunghoon groans lowly, fingers flexing on your hips. "Fuck yes," he rasps, already urging you up his body. "Come up here and sit on my face, baby. Let me taste you, wanna feel you dripping all over me..."
You whimper, arousal spiking through you at his filthy words. Carefully, you knee-walk up the bed until you're hovering over his face, one hand braced on the headboard for balance.
Sunghoon doesn't hesitate, gripping your thighs and bringing you down to his waiting mouth with a low, appreciative moan. The first swipe of his tongue through your folds has you gasping, a full body shudder wracking your frame at the sensation.
He takes his time, alternating between long, flat licks and teasing flicks over your clit, working you up slowly but surely. It's not long before you're panting above him, rocking your hips shamelessly against his face as pleasure coils tight in your belly.
"Fuck, Sunghoon," you whine, free hand coming down to tangle in his hair, holding him in place. "Your mouth, god- feels so fucking good, don't stop..."
Sunghoon just hums in response, the vibrations making you see stars. He redoubles his efforts, sealing his lips around your clit and sucking hard, two fingers sliding into your dripping hole and curling deep inside you-
Your orgasm crashes over you without warning, back arching as you bite down on your knuckles to muffle your cry. Sunghoon works you through it, licking and stroking and prolonging your release until you're shaking, until you're forcibly pushing his head away because it's too much.
Carefully, you dismount, collapsing onto your back next to him and throwing an arm over your face as you try to catch your breath. You feel Sunghoon shift, and then he's gently prying your arm away, revealing your blissed out expression to his heated gaze.
"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss you slow and deep, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. "I could spend hours between your thighs, baby. Love feeling you come apart on my mouth, love knowing I can make you shake like that..."
You hum contentedly, cupping his face in your palms when he pulls back. "Thank you," you whisper, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones tenderly. "I really needed that."
Sunghoon smiles, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. "Anytime, Y/N. You know I love taking care of you."
You can only nod, eyelids already growing heavy as the post-orgasmic haze settles over you like a warm blanket. Sunghoon chuckles lowly, shifting to pull you into his arms, your back to his front.
"Sleep, baby," he murmurs into your hair, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "I've got you. I'm right here."
And with his solid warmth surrounding you, his scent enveloping you, the sound of his heartbeat steady and soothing in your ear. You've never fallen asleep faster.
-
Note: i hope i could summon him to help me fall asleep as well 😫 m going insane
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peachesofteal · 4 months
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Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader #33 Ghost helps fix up your house or makes repairs - for @glitterypirateduck's Ghost writing challenge
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His phone rings again on the following Tuesday morning.
It's been a day and a half, since he's seen you and Orion last. Since he made you promise to call, no matter what, if you needed something. Or if you needed a break, or some company.
Anything. Anything, and he'd be there.
You had tried to push him off a bit, tried to assert your independence, which he appreciates, he values. He likes to know you can take care of yourself and the baby when he's not here. But when he is-
"We're really fine, you know. You don't have to be... available for us, whenever. I mean, like if you have other things. Or people, you don't have to be here all the time. I've been doin' it on my own, and I'm fine. We're fine. I don't want you to feel like you have to-"
His fork clatters to the plate, and your eyes go round as he rises from the chair and steps toward you, firm hand cupping your arm. "I'm here because I wan' to be."
"O-okay, I just don't want you to be here because you think you have to... because you're all the sudden saddled with a kid."
"I'm not here because I feel like 've been saddled with a kid. I'm here because I want to be, because I wanted you the night we made him, and I still do. I want you both." Your mouth drops wide before snapping shut abruptly, warmth rising in your cheeks. You're so cute like this, flustered and nervous, and it reminds him of the night he met you, a sweet little kitten, all alone at the bar. "And you've done more than just a fine job, sweet girl, takin' care of yourself and our baby for me, but when 'm here, it's my job."
So, his phone rings, and it doesn't matter that he's in the middle of spotting Soap at the squat rack.
He drops everything.
"Hi." You're a little out of breath when you open the door, eyes wide and wild, chewing on your lip. Orion is asleep in your arms, blissfully unaware, head lolling on your shoulder, clad only in a diaper.
His head buzzes, still trying to reconcile the truth of this entire thing, the fact that this is his, you and his baby. His.
"What's wrong?" He's massive in your door frame, and ushers you back inside, clicking the lock into place behind him. "What's goin' on?"
"It's... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called. I just... I don't know how to fix it and you said I could... call, right? So-"
"Hey." His thumb gently presses into the inside of your elbow, and then he squeezes slightly. "It's okay. I want you to call me. What is it?"
"It's the laundry." You blurt, and then freeze, eyes flicking down to see if Ry has woken up. "I broke the washer, and today is the day I do the baby's clothes, but I can't get it to work and... it hates me." He chuckles.
"It doesn't hate you, sweetheart. Let's take a look." This, he can do. Things with his hands, mechanical things, physical puzzles, easy. It's not the first time he'll have fixed an appliance, and it won't be the last.
He takes the machine apart as quickly as possible, pieces laid out exactly where he needs them, washers and screws and everything all accounted for. It's the belt, he discovers rapidly, an easily fixed problem with a new part.
"I'll have to run down the street quick," he tells you, drawing up to his full height and motioning towards the entryway, "but it's a quick fix." You nod, stepping out of the way, small smile on your lips. He promises he'll be right back, that he'll have it done in no time, and you pad along to the door, standing back as he pulls it wide.
"Simon..." you whisper, and he turns, "thank you."
"Of course."
True to his word, he's back before the hour. The low murmur of the TV echoes from the living room, and he gravitates there before returning to his task, driven to lay eyes on both of you, to make sure you're here, you're okay-
and the sight of it stops him in his tracks.
You're asleep on the couch, shirt pulled up and bra unhooked from it's strap. Orion is cradled against your chest, his tiny fingers curled in the flesh of your breast, mouth lax around your nipple. There's a dribble of milk sliding down his cheek, and the sight of it all makes Simon dizzy. He knew you nursed him, but seeing it for the first time fills him with something he's not sure how to reconcile, adding onto the heap of adoration and possession pounding in his heart. It's a different kind of puzzle, the same kind of barbaric instinct and need roaring in his blood, the one that tells him to tuck you away and never let you go.
He stares for a second longer, scratching this moment into his memory as much as he can before he realizes how tired you are. You do a good job of hiding it, smiling and buzzing about, but in the early afternoon light, he can see the exhaustion so clearly, and kicks himself for not noticing sooner.
When Ry starts to fuss, your brow furrows in your sleep, and Simon can't stop himself. "Shh, shhh." He soothes, pulling him free as gently as he can. You twitch, hands searching, and then your head snaps up in a panic, breaths stuttered. "It's okay. I got him, you just closed your eyes, is all. It's alright."
"Sorry." You croak, sitting up and fumbling with your top. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."
"It's okay, mama." He's on his knees in front of the couch, in front of you, and you stare down at him, mystified. "What does he usually do after he eats?"
"Uh... burp? And then he goes down to sleep." You yawn. "A change, if he needs it."
"Alright, 've got it, you go rest. After I put him down, I'll finish the washer."
"Oh, no... I can-"
"I've got him. Nothin' I can't handle." He shifts Orion, supporting his head as he props him up over his shoulder, rubbing his back slowly. He wants to do this, wants you to let him do this, wants you to trust him.
He needs it.
You hesitate. "Are you sure?"
"If I need anythin', I'll wake you." There's a burp cloth on the coffee table, and he places it under Ry's chin. "Huh, lad? If we need mama, we'll get her, right?" You soften, posture relaxing a bit, and then you nod.
"Alright, then."
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dreaisgrayte · 3 months
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First Kisses With the Hashira
Includes: Gyomei Himijima, Tengen Uzui, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Obanai Iguro, Giyuu Tomioka, Kyojuro Rengoku, Mitsuri Kanroji, Shinobu Kocho Synopsis: What would your first kiss with the Hashira be like? {I did not include Muichiro even though this was mainly fluff} warnings: kisses! so many kisses! A little suggestive in some parts, but only if you squint, very wholesome and fluffy!
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Gyomei Himejima
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Gyomei is super tall, so you practically had to – with red cheeks – ask him to bend down so you could kiss him
When you managed to place your lips on his Gyomei was pleased to find how gentle you were
Gyomei found himself selfishly thinking for once
He lifts you onto the table, trapping you with a muscled arm on either side of your thighs. He groans as your lips work against his. Gyomei might not be able to see, but he could feel right where you wanted him to be. He was leaning over you, his massive back completely obscuring you from view. “You are making me break concentration.” He finally mutters out, his eyes squeezed shut. “You are dangerous YN,” He pauses, opening up his glazed white eyes to meet yours. He knew exactly where you were even without sight. “The way my heart beats in my chest for you… is dangerous.”
Tengen Uzui
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Tengen thinks you’re joking at first, clapping you on the back like one of his pals with a loud guffaw while you both sit at a table.
He realizes he's made a grave mistake only after your bottom lip starts to tremble.
Your cheeks are flushed and tears are running down your face.
Tengen leans into your eyesight, an apologetic grin making his face scrunch hilariously. You roll your eyes and huff out a laugh. “There’s my girl,” Tengen’s grin widens, then after a small beat, his brows furrow. “Are you sure?” He’s asking you so gently and in a way like he’s unsure of himself. You nod and that’s all the conformation Uzui needs before he’s cupping your face, guiding your mouths together in a sweet, yet passionate kiss. His face twitches with emotion when you part, a small gasp escaping your lips as you peer into his conflicted magenta eyes. Did he not enjoy it? “I think my wife count just went up,” He states with all the seriousness in the world present on his face. You burst out laughing and hit his shoulder.
“You do not mean that!” You giggle, but he shakes his head and rolls his lips into his mouth. He hums, looking at you with possessive intent. 
“No, I do.”
Sanemi Shinazugawa
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Sanemi had just finished a mission, dragging himself through the gates of his main mansion. 
When he sees you, in a tiny lilac-colored apron his brain nearly short-circuits. 
You were so cute – too cute in fact – it was going to kill him one day. 
You shyly presented him with a batch of fresh red bean mochi, twiddling your thumbs as he gawked at the ensemble. 
Sanemi sets the plate down, walking toward you until your back is flush against a wall. You nervously glance around, trying to decipher if this was going to be the last thing you ever saw. “Thank you,” His voice is gruff, but his face floods with a deep pink color. He’s covering his face with the back of his arm and you suddenly wish this was the last thing you’d ever see. 
You can’t help yourself as you slowly reach out to grab the back of his neck and pull him into a sweet kiss. He licks at your lips and a smile forms against your mouth. “You taste like red bean mochi,” He smirks. 
“You took a while.”
Obanai Iguro
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Obanai was somewhat preoccupied with training as you yelled out his name
He came running up next to you, his head tilted in question as to what you wanted
You quickly peck Obanai on the area of his mask where his mouth should be, stumbling back in amazement that you went through with it. Obanai is equally as shocked, his brows raised and his body stiff. You’re about to turn and leave when he catches your wrist. “Oh no you don’t,” He tuts, yanking you back into his arms. “I think you forgot something.” He pulls down the top edge of his mask until his lips and a bit of his scars are revealed. You revel in how beautiful this man is as he leans down to kiss you deeply. 
Giyuu Tomioka
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Giyuu was reading a book with adept concentration. You were slightly annoyed by the fact you came all the way here just to be ignored by this man.
So you crawl over his lap, grab the edge of the book, push it down, and lean over to kiss him
When you break away from this kiss Giyuu’s face is a stark contrast to the once pale skin. His deep blue eyes are wide, lips parted as a trail of spit still connects your mouth to his. He sets his book down – the thought of reading lost to the thought of doing that again with you. His fingertips gingerly touch the skin of his lips once, like he believes it to be a figment of his imagination. “Can we… can we do that again?” He asks, excitedly leaning toward you. 
You roll your eyes and laugh, pushing at his face. “Oh so now you want to pay attention to me?”
Kyojuro Rengoku
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Kyojuro is all over the place
He’s the one that first leans into you with too much force, bonking your foreheads together
He’s nervous, excited, and in love. To you that’s all that mattered
Kyojuro rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavier than usual. “YN, can I kiss you again?” He pleads, yearning to make the first kissing experience the two of you share as perfect as possible. You laugh brightly, pecking both of his cheeks and the tip of his nose before nodding your head. Kyojuro couldn’t think about anything else except how lucky he must be to have you in his life. He slowly brings his lips to yours, pressing into you ever so slowly as to not rush like last time. It’s a fiery hot kiss only seconds after the tantalizing brush of his lips. 
Mitsuri Kanroji
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Mitsuri didn’t know how to react when you explained that kissing her was something you’d enjoy
She thought you were stunning, prettier than here even – which you had to shut down right away
Mitsuri hadn’t given much thought to acting on her attraction to you, but just hearing you utter the words made her whole mind swim
She’s going into one of her overthinking episodes, squealing about how you shouldn’t kiss her because then she’d want to hold your hand and go on dates with you and-
You grab the sides of her face, bringing your lips to hers. The kiss is mildly awkward at first because Mitsuri is too stunned to move, but once she melts into your embrace and your bodies move in tandem, it turns into something beautiful. Her lips are soft and remind you of eating a strawberry. You’re the one to part ways first, leaving her breathless as she maintains eye contact with your lips. “I think I’d like to do that again…” She blurts. 
Shinobu Kocho
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Shinobu was tactful and precise about when you two would bump into each other
She planned the perfect time to finally ask you to share in some intimacy with her
So when you popped up at the Butterfly Mansion battered from a training session, you could say you threw more than a wrench in her plans
Shinobu’s bright eyes widen when she sees you limping inside the infirmary. “Y-YN?” She assesses the situation, rushing to gather material to dress your bruises. You don’t have to say much before she’s rubbing salve into your shoulders and down your back. Her hands and cold, but they feel wonderful as she works the sap into your muscles. “What did you get yourself into?” She grunts from behind. You chuckle softly, wincing at the ache spreading across your stomach. You don’t know what takes over your mind, but you lean back into Shinobu. She’s surprised but adjusts to hold you regardless. “What am I going to do with you?” She sighs.
“Put me out of my misery?” You suggest, earning a jab from her into your sore ribcage. You groan but then a sly smirk works its way onto your lips. “I think for being such a good patient I deserve a reward.” You tease. What you don’t expect is Shinobu to purse her lips and while her cheeks fade to a pink she leans down to kiss your lips. 
“Is that good enough?” She huffs, glancing away. 
“I’m not sure, I was kind of hoping for some mochi,” You giggle. Shinobu glares at you. “On second thought, it appears there would be nothing sweeter than another few thousand kisses from you…” That’s all it takes for Shinobu’s lips to be back on yours. A sweet, simple, and lovely kiss. If it weren’t for the way she worked the salve into your muscles, you might’ve mistaken her kisses to be what healed you the next day.  
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buckyalpine · 11 months
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Mob Bucky likes his innocent date ft smut
Sigh. I wanted this to be wholesome but it’s horny instead I’m sorry. Might delete tbh. Imagine devilishly gorgeous mob Bucky getting joy out of making his shy date flustered til she’s tripping on her words and unable to speak. He got Steve to find him a date for an event in the evening, uninterested in having to actually find one for himself. He just wants a pretty thing on his arm that he could maybe fuck at the end of the night. Between busy schedules and mob work, Steve doesn’t find anyone so he scrambles to the last person he can think of.
His sisters best friend.
You’re not at all what he was expecting.
He walks down the long staircase in his all black suit, beard trimmed, his cologne intoxicating, coking an eyebrow when he sees the shy thing waiting for him that he’s supposed to go with.
You nearly squeak when he stands before you, too nervous to say anything, your heart running a million miles a minute, knowing exactly who the very James Barnes was. You had no business being here, you were doing this for Steve.
“Hi” you whisper, and Bucky can’t help but smirk at the way you keep tugging at your dress, not meeting his eyes, tipping your chin up to meet his wolfish expression.
“You must be Y/n” he doesn’t let go of your face, noting the goosebumps that now cover your exposed skin from your plunging dress. He doesn’t say much else, letting you squirm, quite enjoying himself.
You want to tell him he looks good, be the confident woman he probably expected to have, exuding grace and poise but you bite your lip instead, nearly whining when he lets go of your chin.
“Y-you um. You look b-beautiful” you finally stutter out, your face burning under his amused gaze.
“Is that so Bambi?” He smirks, cocking his head while you fidget with your fingers. “Hmmm. No one’s called me that before” he chuckles, taking your arm in his and leading you to the limo parked outside.
Your skin is so soft, you smell so sweet and for the first time ever, he doesn’t want to ravage his date to bits. Not when you’re such a soft precious thing.
The night goes well as you grow more and more comfortable with him. He dotes on you the entire time, not letting you lift a finger. He can’t help but take care of you, not letting anyone else near his precious little Bambi.
By the end, he wants to take you home safely like a gentleman but he wants more. And he knows you do too. He can see it in the way you look at him with such longing, nuzzling into his side further and further in the back of the limo.
You’re practically on his lap now, desperately wishing he’d just have his way with you without toy having to say anything but he’d never let that happen.
“What is it Bambi” he whisperers when you squeeze your thighs together, hiding you face in his neck. Your hand trails from his tie to his belt buckle, too embarrassed to go any lower.
“Oh you poor thing” he coos, bringing and pressing your hand on top of his erection, your shaky hands rubbing his bulge like a needy kitten, “do you want my cock baby, s’that it? My Bambi needs her cock?”
“Mhm” you whine, clinging onto him when the limo pulls up to his house, his thick arms wrapping you up and taking you right to his room with no second guesses.
When he gets you into bed, all his animalistic tendencies go out the window, holding back how badly he wants to pounce on you and ravish you like the cute little bunny you are, trapped in the wolfs den. Your gown has been thrown off, lingerie ripped to bits, laying on his bed as he crawls on top of you, his thick, leaky cock bobbing between his legs.
“Are you sure you want this Angel” he checks in with you first, cupping your cheek and swiping his thumb across your pouty lip.
“W-want you” you whisper, shakily reaching down to grasp his cock, swallowing nervously. “I just- I don’t-“
“You don’t have to be scared bunny” he kisses your cheek, placing his hand on top of yours, guiding your strokes. “I’ll teach you how to play with my cock baby”
You tighten your grip, tugging him to where you need him most and he can’t hold back much longer, he’s trying to hard but you makes it impossible.
“Fuck Bambi” he groaned feeling his tip run against your soaked cunt, holding back frok shoving himself in you “keep doing that and I’ll lose control baby”
“Lose control Bucky” you tug at him again and he shakes his head with a strained chuckle.
“I’ll hurt you bunny” he said warns again but you need him to take you apart till you cant walk.
“Please?”
“Bunny…” he warns one last time but you want anymore.
“Daddy” you whine in his ear and something inside him snaps. He doesn’t give you any warning, slamming his cock into you with one stroke, your pleasured cry music to his ears.
“What did you just call me?!” He pulls out to flip you over, spanking your ass while his balls slap your clit, loving the way you go dumb over his cock.
“Such an innocent little baby with a filthy mouth, huh doll, my bunny wants her daddy’s cock”
He grips onto the headboard, delivering powerful snaps with his hips, alternating between pounding you against the pillows and grinding his cock in you without pulling out.
“Such a tight pussy squeezing daddy’s cock, my naughty little bunny, you want daddy’s cream too baby? You want daddy to give you his fresh cum, hm? Breed this needy little pussy?”
“B-breed me daddy!!” You squeal, his words driving you towards your climax, crying into his sheets and arching your back more as his movements grow sloppy.
“Get ready for daddy’s cum baby- gonna breed this pretty pussy till your fuckin’ round n’swollen n’leaking with milk” he gritted out, grabbing your hips with slam back and meet his thrusts. “Together Bambi, cum with daddy, c’mon, be a good girl n’cum with daddy”
The most salacious and primal sounds fill the room as he pumps ropes of his cum into toy, your greedy pussy milking him for all he’s worth. He can’t believe such a quiet little bunny could turn out to be a minx on the inside but he’s never letting you go.
“You’re dangerous Bambi” he whispers, keeping his softening cock in you, having never felt so satisfied afterwards, practically floating in the clouds with you. “M’never pulling my cock out, you feel too good around my dick baby”
You giggle as he kisses your glistening skin, gathering your into his arms, your eyes growing wide when he doesn’t kick you out of his bed.
“You’re mine now Bambi” he says with a soft growl, holding you closer to his chest before pulling the sheets over you both.
Anyway. Wholesome version coming later.
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hihomeghere · 5 months
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Salt and Pepper | Arthur Morgan / Reader
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Word count : 1.4k Summary : Arthur notices his hair is starting to gray. I saw a post on here about Arthur with salt and pepper hair and I couldn’t stop myself hehe. Warnings/Tags : talk about death, getting old, Arthur loves his wife, no tb, Arthur and reader own a house, mention of past gang members, cursing, lots of fluff, self deprecation on Arthur’s side, bullets, mention of weight gain (in a positive way)
“Godamn ugly bastard.” Arthur huffed, his gaze piercing as he looked into the mirror. He hadn’t meant to have himself a pity party this morning. In fact he was feeling quite fine this morning before looking in the small bathroom mirror. Waking up next to you always puts a spring in his step. Especially when he’s waking up in a real bed, underneath a soft quilt that you happened to sew in some free time. Mismatched patches and all, it was his favorite thing in the small home you two shared. Hell, you were becoming quite domestic ever since the house was completed.
But he wasn’t exactly expecting to find gray hair sprouting from his hairline. He wasn’t that old, was he?
“Jesus.” He sighed, inspecting further he realized it wasn’t one or two gray hairs, it was almost twenty. Hidden under his longer than normal locks after forgoing a haircut for the last couple weeks. He was surprised you hadn’t noticed them, especially with how much you loved to run your fingers through his hair. Although, he loved it just as much, maybe even more.
God, he needed to get rid of these before you saw them. He was sure you had some tweezers around here somewhere. He opened up your drawer, rifling around for your tweezers. Bingo. His hands gripped the small piece of metal, a triumphant smile on his face.
It was only once he looked back up into the mirror, determined to fix this issue before you woke up, that he noticed you padding into the bathroom. Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you wrapped your arms around his middle.
“Mornin’.” You hummed, laying your cheek against his bicep, smiling sweetly at him through the mirror.
“Mornin’.” He said, clearing his throat.
“What do you need those for?” You asked, eyeing the tweezers in his hand. Caught red handed, he tried coming up with some excuse.
“Nothin’ sweetheart.” He said, giving you his signature smile, kissing your forehead. He slipped the tweezers into his pocket for safe keeping, at least until he had a free moment without you around. After all those years on the run and he could come up with nothing, Hosea would have been so disappointed in his lack of an answer. He swore he could hear the old man chastising him now.
“For a former outlaw you sure are an awful liar.” You tutted, shaking your head, slipping your fingers into his pocket and pulling out the tweezers.
“Well it ain’t my fault,” He huffed playfully, “Could never get nothin’ past you anyway.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. You removed your hands from around his waist, leaning back on the sink as you looked up at him.
“Spill.” You said raising an eyebrow, your arms crossed over your chest.
Knowing he’d been caught, Arthur hung his head, a low sigh leaving his lips.
“It’s just-“ He cursed, turning to look away from you, “Well I’m goin’ gray.” He admitted, not meeting your eyes.
“And?” You asked in such a nonchalant manner.
“And?” He asked looking up at you, his brows furrowed.
“So you have some gray hairs.” You said with a shrug, “You’re acting like the damn world is ending.” You chuckled softly, a smile tugging on your lips.
“Well-“ Arthur sighed, pursing his lips, he didn’t want to be vain but damn it, it did feel like the world was ending.
“Honey.” You said softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Ain’t nothing wrong with some gray hairs.” You said, shaking your head, looking so goddamn patient as always. What he did in a past life to deserve you he would never know, he definitely didn’t deserve you in this one. You smiled, running your thumb over his couple day old stubble. He couldn’t help but sigh softly, leaning into your touch.
“Just makes me feel old ‘s all.” He shrugged, closing his eyes.
“Arthur.” You said softly, he opened his eyes. His bright azure pools looking into yours. “Getting old means we’re still alive.” You said pointedly, not missing the way your fingers trailed lightly down his chest.
He sighed softly, anyone who said he was the most like Hosea had obviously never had a one on one conversation with you. You had shared the same dry wit along with being just as wise as the old man. Sometimes he wondered if the two of you were more closely related than just being adopted by him as a kid.
As your hand settled over his heart, he couldn’t help but remember a time when you didn’t have this place. When his next breath had been an undeserved blessing. When you and Charles had pulled his broken body off that godforsaken mountain. You were right, he should be grateful for these gray hairs and new lines on his face. Should be grateful that he made it this far out west with you, where the air was dryer and slowly his lungs didn’t hurt as bad with each breath.
If anything he should be grateful that you’re here, here in this house. The house that he built specifically for you. That you’re not buried six feet under like most of the fellow gang members. That you didn’t catch a bullet like Lenny or Sean, how he wished they could have had the chance to grown old. Even as mouthy as Sean was, the poor bastard didn’t deserve that. Lenny was just a boy, foolish enough to be sucked in by Dutch’s silver tongue. He shook his head trying to clear any thoughts of the past.
God, along with the fact that somehow both of you still happen to be standing, the fact that you chose to stand by him after everything you went through makes his head swim. You could have left him at any point, hell he had begged you to leave after his death sentence. And yet, here you were.
“Guess you’re right.” He said, a small smile tugging on his lips.
“Course I am.” You teased, a smile spreading across your face. You leaned forward, brushing your nose against his. He accepted your silent invitation, pressing his lips against yours. So soft and warm and inviting. He could feel you smile against his lips. That small smile warmed him from the inside out, nearly making his toes curl.
Jesus, he was lucky. More than lucky, he still couldn’t figure out how he had tricked you into marrying him. He wanted to be the best version of himself for you, he had made a promise to try every day to be a better man for you. You shouldn’t be tied down to a miserable old fool like himself.
As if you could read his mind, which he often suspected you could, your soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
“Besides,” You began as you pulled away, “I like the salt and pepper look.” Arthur scoffed, shaking his head.
“Really?” He asked, raising a brow.
“Really.” You nodded, running your hand through his hair. “Think you get more handsome every day.” If anyone was getting prettier every day it was you. Your hair was longer, cascading down your shoulders in waves. No longer tied up in a tight braid or bun. You looked relaxed, at peace. You became softer once you both settled into your new lifestyle. Not just emotionally, although you still had that fire which had first drawn him towards you, like a moth to a flame. You were physically softer, your harsh edges smoothing out as you started to eat and sleep better. Your curves became more prominent, and he certainly didn’t mind having more to hold onto late at night.
Maybe you truly did feel the same about him. He had never known you to lie. A blush settled on his cheeks at the thought. He shook his head, a small chuckle rumbling through his chest.
“Yeah, alright darlin’.” He says taking your face in his hands, kissing you again before you had the chance to embarrass him further.
Maybe getting old wasn’t so bad if you had someone to grow old with.
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saetoru · 1 year
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ GETO SENSEI — GETO SUGURU.
contents. based on this drabble and this drabble, post hidden inventory arc, healing suguru agenda !!, fluff + established relationships, suguru wants to become a teacher :,) bc teacher suguru is what we deserved
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“mwah,” you press a wet kiss to suguru’s cheek. “there,” you said proudly, “another kiss for my sugu. want more?”
“i think i’m okay now, baby. thank you—”
“mwah,” you kiss his forehead, giggling, “i have a lot more where that came from, y’know.”
“i believe it,” he shakes his head, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips, “you don’t seem to run out.”
“my sugu needs all the kisses he can get,” you gasp, “they’re good for his health!”
suguru smiles softly at that, closes his eyes and leans into you as you brush back his bangs from his face and thread your fingers into his hair, scratching gently along his scalp as he sighs. you watch him relax, content with the way his under eyes seem to be less dark as of late. you brush a thumb under his eyes, feeling the soft skin before gently stroking along his cheek.
“don’t you have a mission tomorrow?” he asks quietly, letting his head droop into your hand as you cup his cheek.
“i do,” you nod, “but i have some time to kill before i go to bed.”
“you should rest,” he mumbles, “you don’t want to be tired while you’re out there.”
“i’ll get rest, suguru,” you assure with a roll of your eyes, “your hair’s a bit longer, don’t you think?”
“yeah,” he tilts his head as you reach to grab at his bun, pulling the hair tie to let his hair fall freely down to his shoulder. “i guess i should cut it.”
“i like it,” you pout, “‘s pretty like this.”
“yeah?” he grins, cracking an eye open to look at you in amusement, “should i keep growing it for you then?”
“you should,” you nod, “i’ll braid it.”
“yeah, as if,” he raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, “satoru’s never gonna let me hear the end of it if he sees.”
“he won’t see!”
“you said that last time when you put my hair in space buns, remember? and then you showed him a picture.”
“baby,” you gasp, “what happened to forgiving and forgetting? that was me of the past—i’ve grown! i won’t betray you like that again.”
you hold a hand up as an oath, nodding seriously to prove your point. he looks at you unconvinced before chuckling and leaning in, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“today wasn’t so bad,” he mumbles, “i liked today.”
“yeah?” you smile, letting his head fall to the crook of your neck, shuffling closer on his lap as your arms wrap around him.
he nods into your shoulder, “yeah.”
“good,” you murmur, “you’ll be okay. even if it takes some time.”
“sometimes it doesn’t feel like it,” he admits, cheek pressed against your shoulder as he speaks into your skin. your fingers are in his hair—they seem to never leave, and he hopes they never do. your hand rubs up and down his back, slowly, like it’ll snap in two if you go too fast.
“you will, baby,” you say sweetly, kissing his head as you twist his hair into a messy bun, tying it with his hair tie as you speak.
suguru is healing—you like to think so. he smiles more, sometimes they even meet his eyes all the way. he sleeps better, eats more healthy, seeks you out when things are crushing on his shoulders. there’s something lighter about him, something less heavy and tormented and even if he’s still empty sometimes, you always find him at the right moments.
sometimes, suguru is lost—and maybe you can’t always guide him out, but you can be lost together.
sometimes that’s enough.
“i think…” he starts, trailing off hesitantly. your hand hikes under his shirt, rubbing the bare skin of his back—it’s always calmed him more that way, feeling you without the barrier of fabric in the way.
“you think?” you encourage, letting him take his time to process his thoughts.
“i think i want to teach,” he mumbles, “here, at jujutsu high. but…but do it better. i think i’d do it better, y’know? the way kids deserve.”
you smile at that—proud, a little heartbroken deep down. people have failed suguru, they’ve failed you too. and satoru. and shoko. and nanami. and haibara too—and it’s up to you all to piece yourselves back together. maybe you can all do it together, one cracked, sharp little piece at a time.
sometimes the edges will slice your skin, will reopen old wounds and make you bleed all over again just when you thought you were done bleeding. but suguru has you to bandage the cuts, and you have him too. and everyone else, as well.
you pull away, cup his cheeks and press a soft kiss to his lips as you close your eyes. his hands lay over yours, and he thinks, for a brief moment, you’re right.
maybe he will be okay—maybe he won’t be the same, but he can be new. and that’s not always so bad.
“i think that’s a great idea,” you whisper, “i think you’ll be amazing. what kids will need.”
“well, i’ll try,” he chuckles, pressing his forehead to yours, “and who knows, maybe you can call me geto sensei here and there.”
“we’ll see about that,” you snort. he pouts, making you lean in and kiss those jutted lips of his with a quick peck.
“i’ll convince you,” he says confidently, “you’ll be the only one i let get extra credit.”
“oh i’m honored,” you giggle, “i’ll stay in school just for you.”
“how sweet,” he grins.
you kiss him after that, and he kisses you back. your lips taste like strawberry chapstick, and your arms are warm and tight around him, and even if curses taste vile and the world is coldly unforgiving, suguru can make it through each day with at least one real smile with you by his side.
it’s not so hard when you’re around.
“i love you,” you breathe. it’s enough, he thinks, you’re enough.
“i love you too,” he kisses your jaw, “i’ll love you more if you call me geto sensei, though.”
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yes this is my own version of canon. u can’t take it away from me. in MY world (the only world that matters) suguru heals and becomes a teacher <3 and fucks me over his desk
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missmugiwara · 5 months
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A Secret
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Summary: gn!reader x Luffy // What happens when you tell the captain a secret? Turns out, it makes him really happy! And he only wants more.
Warning: 18+, suggestive, very flirty, did I make Luffy a slight dom?
Note: I think one of my favorite things about writing for Luffy is that it's kind of hard. But he's my sweetie pie so I'm not complaining.
✦ Word count is 2.2k ✦
Luffy's strength was no secret.
Everyone knew that. It was also no secret that he always got stronger. Sometimes, it seemed like the Straw Hat Pirates were always moving from one adventure to the next, never taking a break. So how did Luffy have the time between fights to find new moves and new gears to try?
Maybe he didn't do it as much as Zoro, but there were instances where you caught the captain training. Sometimes it was on boring days like today where you happened to be parked at some random island for Franky to do routine maintenance to the Sunny.
Luffy's breath was heavy, mouth wide open to release hot pants. His red ruffle-sleeved shirt and yellow sash were chucked off to the side, bunched in a sloppy pile on the ground with his precious straw hat gingerly laid on top. His scarred chest heaved with each breath he took, muscles tensing deliciously. A thin layer of sweat covered his entire body, forming delicate beads of moisture to glisten in the sun. His hair splayed across his forehead and around his face in cute, damp waves from the moisture. It was certainly a sight to behold. The captain was positively mouthwatering, and only one thing crossed your mind at that moment.
You loved him so much.
It was always so hard to take your eyes off him. With feet crunching against the grass, you walked up some distance behind him and just silently admired. A tender smile etched its way onto your lips, and you sighed longingly at Luffy. He had one fist pulled back, while his other free hand - palm outstretched, thumb pointed downward - took aim at the air, and he punched. He repeated this move again and again, grunting and panting the entire time. As he continued with that focused, steady gaze in his eyes. As beads of sweat flew off his body.
He was so strong.
Did anyone ever tell him he looked so good?
A warm heat feathered over your cheeks, and your eyes perked up at the thought. And so, feeling rather bold, you snickered and took a step forward. You almost changed your mind. Then, using every ounce of courage, you merrily called after him.
"Luffy!"
The rubber man turned lazily to the call of his name. With an open-mouth releasing more pants, he tiredly smiled. And then his gaze grew more excited when he registered it was you of all people who called with such adoration. You, who was running toward him. You, who he could never get mad at. You, who lit up with joy every moment you saw him.
The sweetest face he had ever seen, and all his. Well, you were your own person - he didn't own you, and he knew that. But you were his. Somehow. His crewmate. His friend. His… something.
One day, he would gladly say the words: you're so much more to him. That much he knew, but what word could he use? Luffy always knew how to get right to the heart of things that needed saying most - but not today. Seeing your smile was enough, and there was way too much on his mind regarding everyone's safety in Wano.
"Do you wanna know a secret?" you grinned.
A secret? And just for his ears only? He already felt special enough with that smile you gave him. Nobody else ever got that smile.
You slowed to a stop when you collided into his back, pressing your chest to him. You didn't give him a chance to answer when you wrapped one arm around him, gently slapping your hand to his chest. The sweat upon him sticking you to him, and you did not care in the slightest how much it made your shirt wet. With the other free hand, you cupped it to his ear.
"Hey, did you know…" and you whispered into his ear, lips brushing against the shell of it as Luffy's eyes slowly widened.
The words were nearly lost in the breeze.
A red blush dusted over his cheeks, and his lips parted in response. Before he could turn and ask if you reeeally meant what you just said, you giggled and peeled yourself from him. You stepped back, hands clasped innocently behind your back and grinning so much that your eyes clamped shut.
"Huh? Really?" Luffy asked in disbelief.
"Oh, yes!" you nodded your head erratically.
Luffy still stared in shock, and you still smiled. There was a pause before the captain blinked at you, then smirked. He stood a bit taller and a bit prouder, puffing out his chest. He turned back but to a tree this time, taking his usual fighting stance. His fist flew back, and then forward as he launched it into the tree - completely breaking it in two as it fell to the ground with a loud thud. A few of your friends looked up in worry at the loud noise, then disregarded it once they realized it was just Luffy being Luffy. You beamed widely as ever, before giving a wave and returning to your spot next to Robin. She was seated underneath an umbrella and sipping tea.
She smiled and poured a cup for you. Trying not to come off as pyring, she asked, "What did you tell Luffy to put him in such a good mood?"
You grabbed the cup of tea and smiled profusely. She wouldn't dare tease you like the others if you answered honestly. Robin could be told things you could not tell others. And she knew you liked the captain very much so.
"I just told him… well, I said: hey, did you know that you're really sexy?"
Robin seemed surprised at the unexpectedly brazen comment. She was looking down at her cup, then her blue eyes immediately darted to meet yours. You said that to Luffy? A pause before she grinned.
"Oh? Is that so? I'm happy for you."
And Luffy seemed pretty happy about it too.
It was a major risk you took that day, but since then you were smitten even moreso because he responded in such a… pleasant way. So Luffy was the kind of person who understood sex appeal. It was settled then - you wanted to flirt more. You wanted to be more vocal about how you felt. To drop more hints, as ironic as it was because Luffy didn't need subtlety; he needed blunt words. However, the rising butterflies in your stomach told you that testing the waters was further needed. It was really just an excuse to cover up a rising bout of shyness.
It seemed he was not as naïve as his crewmates thought, and he truly understood this game. And really, how did anyone not notice how attractive he was? Zoro and Sanji got attention all the time, but what about the captain? The star of the crew? He was certainly charming in his own ways. And so this game of yours did not let up anytime soon.
"Who's that good-looking guy in the straw hat?"
You waved at him, calling out with a hand cupped to your mouth. Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji walked toward the ship after being in town to buy supplies. Each of them had sacks of food tied to their backs, and Luffy broke out into a huge ear-to-ear smile. He laughed, a blush ever-present at his face. Zoro rolled his eyes, and Sanji's smile faded when he realized - oh, you were speaking to the captain, not him.
"Me? Oh, stop!" and Luffy would blush and blush, identical to the way he blushed when any of his crewmates said he was strong or reliable. The sight was too cute not to eat up. At least he was getting it now, because the first time you said that Luffy whipped his head around. With squinted eyes, he kept asking who was this guy until you bursted out laughing. This was really funny because it was so cute and so like him to do that.
"What a man."
You would purr so lowly when he passed by, especially if he had just defended the weak and beat someone up - panting, sweaty, delicious as usual. Boy, was being in Wano such a treat. Luffy's ears would prick at the sound of your honeyed tone, and sometimes they turned red. He would quickly turn to meet your lidded gaze, your eyes wandering up and down his shirtless self - and the blush would return to his face. He would break out into a loud laugh after he processed the words you graced him with.
The flirting was fun, truly. Yet sometimes you wondered if anything more would happen after all the effort. It had to, right?
What were you even waiting for?
Such questions did not cross your mind at this particular moment though. As usual, Robin and you were passing the time once again while the Sunny sailed off to another adventure. The topic of conversation was another good book you both had read in your little two-person bookclub. Luffy walked by, a tiny smirk at his lips, as you and Robin laughed about something silly in the last chapter.
Luffy froze once he got past far enough. Something was off. Quickly, he whipped his head around to furrow his brows in frustration. He pointed his gaze at you… and pouted. A cute grumble escaped his lips, and with his fists balled to his sides and arms swaying, he tromped right over.
Between the fits of laughter and conversing, you didn't even hear Luffy's feet crunch in the grass behind you - picking up speed. And what really took you by surprise was when one of Luffy's rubbery hands suddenly grasped your jaw between his thumb and fingers, and he turned your face so you could see him. It went without saying that the laughter immediately stopped, and you and the archaelogist froze in place.
You blinked once. Luffy just held your face, not enough to hurt you because he would never, as you two locked gazes. His breath felt hot on your lips. In turn, your own breath was caught in your chest as your face ignited into flustered heat because - well, because he never held you like this and at such closeness too. Something must have been troubling him.
"What's… what's wrong, captain?"
Oh, you were right about something being wrong. Luffy cocked his head to the side in an attempt to deepen his focus. He was really studying your face, and it only got warmer the more he stared.
"You didn't say anything!" he whined.
Another blink or two from you, and Luffy's grip loosened on your face.
"Loofs, I really have no idea what you're talking about."
"You didn't say anything… you know - fun and nice. To me. Like you always do."
Another moment for you to process, and the lightbulb went off in your head. Ohhh! He wanted another - oh, yes. You almost wanted to laugh because apparently it was really that much of a habit by now.
How dare you forget to take care of your precious captain?
With face still in his hand, your eyes darted off to the side. For the third time, your cheeks went even hotter. And you didn't know why this bout of shyness ran over you all of a sudden. Perhaps it was because you were the one always catching him off guard, flustering him so deeply. Not the other way around. So you took a second to think, but you hadn't planned anything yet for that day. So in a small voice, you answered him quickly, truthfully, and without much thought.
"Hottie."
You nearly moaned under your breath. The blush dusting over his rubbery cheeks and the wide smile he bore was enough to let you know he was satisfied. Robin sat in awe (you two completely forgot she was still there) but then brought a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggle.
And Luffy grinned.
"Keep talking like that. I like it!"
Oh, the way he looked at you made your heart thrum in your chest. The way he held your face, making you lock eyes. Gently, he released your frazzled self. Your jaw dropped into a suprised, open-mouthed smile. Trying to ignore the fact that Luffy said he liked it, you diverted your attention to the first part of his somewhat confession.
"Oh, you think you can boss me around like that, huh?" You smirked, taking a playful tone to let him know you were joking.
Luffy was walking away, but he paused midstep. He turned his head to peek over his shoulder, his bright eyes staring directly into your soul. The wind blew to ruffle his jet black hair and the brim of his beloved straw hat before his eyes grew lidded.
"Of course! I'm the captain here. Besides… you looove doing what I say. You always do, and you never refuse."
With that, he walked off.
And there you sat, flustered to oblivion as you brought a hand to to cover your growing smile. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Robin wink.
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cherubfae · 7 months
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Hi! I was wondering if you write Hazbin Hotel x Reader. And the Hazbin Hotel characters would comfort a reader who is dealing with a panic attack
panic attack || hazbin x reader
with alastor, lucifer, charlie, vaggie, angel dust, husk, & vox
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tags: fluff, gn pronouns used, implied masc!reader for Angel, implied afab reader for Vaggie, comfort, mentions of anxiety, established relationships
Alastor
Soft static crackles in his throat, neck tilting at an awkward angle. You sat on the front lobby sofa, turned away from him while covering your ears with your hands. He's never seen you like this before. "Are you alright, my dear?" When he receives no reply, his static increases. Why won't you look at him?
Kneeling in front of you, he's taken aback by your facial expression. A dreaded frown has replaced your beautiful smile, tears streaming down your cheeks, and you're absolutely trembling. What has happened? Has someone hurt you? Tell him who.
Alastor isn't quite sure what to do. He could usually say something nice to Charlie and she'd perk right up, but you aren't her. You're his darling, his sweet rose. And he hates seeing you unhappy. Lifting you into his arms, he dissolves into smoke and shadow to reappear in his tower. He places you down on the bed, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders. Clawed hands gently tug your own from your face, wiping away your tears.
"Tell me what I can do." Alastor whispers, a desperate twinge edged in his words. "I am here." He's gonna try his best to cheer you up. Playing some classical light jazz on his gramophone, humming and tapping his shoes. If you're lucky, he might even dance for you once you've calmed down.
Lucifer
Gentle hands cup your cheeks, thumbs soothing against your skin. He's breathing with you, encouraging you to follow his example. "Remember sweetheart, do the three three three rule." Lucifer whispers softly. "Tell me three objects, three sounds, and move three body parts." Your teary eyes wander his frame, touching his hands, his cheeks, and then finally his lips.
Kissing your fingertips softly, Lucifer never once ceased his gentle touches. A soft reminder that he's always close by.
Charlie
Oh, no! Oh no, no no! Okay! She knows what to do! Her Dad taught her how to do this when things felt too loud. Carefully, she cups your face making you meet her eyes. "What three objects do you see around your room, sweetie? Can you tell me?" Her voice is soft. Her warm body presses close to yours, her hand sliding down your arm to take your hand.
"Good, yes." She breathes. "Light, bed, and stuffed animals. Very good, honey." Charlie encourages gently, nuzzling your cheek with her nose. She pulls up your softest blanket around your shoulders and hugs you to her chest. When you've perked up a little, Vaggie is quick to suggest relaxation. "How about a nap, hmm?"
Vaggie
Carefully, she approached you from behind. Her hands, cold like ice, gently press to the back of your neck and begin to soothe and work any tight knots at the base of your neck and shoulders. She hums a soft tune, an old lullaby that was sung to her when she was little. It brought her comfort and she hoped its comfort would find you too.
"There you are, take it easy, love." Pressing a kiss to your temple, her hands comb through your hair. "I can run a bath, if you'd like? Might feel good." She wipes a stray tear from your eye, smiling as you squeeze her hands softly nodding. "Yeah? Alright, let's go, love."
Angel Dust
He knows that look well, he's seen it on his own face many times. Angel's first instinct is to bring you somewhere quieter and less populated. Crowds and loud noises overwhelm him when he's already feeling too emotionally overstimulated. Angel will sit with you as long as you need, holding your hand until you calm down. He'll gather whatever comforts he's able to grab, heck, he'd even ask Charlie for help if he felt really stuck and unsure of what to do.
"I didn't know what to get and so I asked Charlie, and she, well," he laughs softly. "Gave me one of everything. Chocolate, popcorn, chips, soda, juice, a face mask-- shit she really went full-out! These are luxury bath robes?!"
Husk
If there's something Husk understands it's that being a bartender you see people in all sorts of states in their lives. Happy, sad, depressed, divorced dad listening to rock music; he's seen it all.
So when you're on the verge of an anxiety attack, Husk drops everything and quickly approaches you, kneeling down to your height. His paw slips into your hand, allowing you to squeeze it, his other hand stroking your hair and pulling you to lean into his soft fluff.
"Easy there, tiger. Focus on your breathing, that's it." His deep voice rumbled against your skin. "That's it, kid. Keep on breathing for me, sweetheart." He nuzzles you gently. Husk may start purring too, as a cat's purr has been known to calm someone down.
Vox
To be honest, he's not quite sure what to do. Seeing you start to panic would probably make him panic a bit. He will approach you slowly, arms raised up almost defensively with his palms facing upwards. Is it okay for him to touch you? Yeah? "Okay, darlin', c'mere." Voxy's gotcha. Breathe in and out, in and out.
Vox will bring you to a quiet, dark room, curtains drawn shut for you to rest and recover. His display screen is the only low light provided. Tucking you in, Vox will sit curl up behind you and carefully stroke your hair. Want him to play one of those black screen meditation videos? Whale sounds? He certainly will for you. "Try to get some rest, baby. That's all that matters right now."
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