#like you know that deep down they care and they don't want to yell but they feel they have to

[pjmmania]

If Snow Decides to Fall

8. “Bumps in the road.”

Author's Note: Another rollercoaster of a chapter…oops ;)

Chapter Warnings: heavy smut (extremely kinky), pregnancy, explicit language, toxic parental relationship, mental health struggles

Taglist: @marihoneywk @amarawayne @chimmy-licious

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*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Jimin you can't just leave now," Yoongi said, "This is serious."

Hoseok scoffed, "Yeah, you can't just tell us 'Seoyeon's back' without a little elaboration."

Grabbing his room key off the mini bar, Jimin paused. His back was turned to the group. He could hardly think, after having just screamed at Namjoon and received the most unexpected information.

His shoulders dropped from a tense height as he exhaled a deep breath. He had sent you a text immediately after getting off the call. You were awake and agreed to speak with him about it. It wasn't like you were going to be able to sleep anytime soon.

His voice was now scratchy from yelling, "I need to speak to Y/N. She’s meeting me in my room. I think she tried to tell me this earlier, multiple times. We just kept getting interrupted."

"I agree that she needs to be a part of the conversation, but so do we," Jin replied gently, "It's a delicate situation. I'm sure the company will handle it, but we should all be on the same page here. This woman almost...well we all know what she almost did."

"Then come with me if you want. I don't care," Jimin turned to face them all, his eyes firmly alert as he pointed at Namjoon, "But not you. I don't want you near her."

The blonde man was completely calm at this point, maybe even humble, "Jimin-"

"No,�� he held solid, “I haven’t told everyone in this room yet, but at the ultrasound we found out that her blood pressure is too high. It’s largely due to stress, and it could become a real problem if she can’t get it under control. The last thing she needs is to feel under attack.”

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon said, his tone sincere and soft, “I didn’t know that. And I’m sorry for the argument. I think it’s important for us all to know what’s going on, like Jin said. You have my word that I’ll shut up and listen. But I don’t want to affect her health and if you truly don’t want me there, I’ll respect it. I’m…I’m really sorry.”

His head dropped as if to hide in shame. The man rubbed his palm against his forehead.

No one spoke, waiting for Jimin’s response.

He pursed his lips together and closed his eyes, “Fine. Let's go."

As they all filtered out of Hoseok's room and into his, which was further down the hall, you were on your way up in your sleep shorts, another one of Jimin's t-shirts, and slippers.

You were so glad that the company didn't book you a shared room with Chaeyoung. Otherwise, this would be tough to explain.

The guys were on the top floor. They had an entire hallway booked out for them, to give them a nice cushion of privacy. You were confident no one would see you, but just in case, you wore your company staff badge on a lanyard around your neck.

You could feel the anxiety bubbling up within you, so you focused on controlling deep breaths in the elevator. When you reached their floor, no one was around. A blessing, amid the mess.

As you rounded corner after corner, you checked Jimin's text to recall his room number.

When you came upon the correct door, you knocked. It was opened instantly, as if he’d been waiting by the entry for you.

He pitied the sight of you standing there, looking worn down. Suspicion of any wrongdoing on your account was impossible. He saw it all on your face, but he wanted an explanation nonetheless.

He pulled you inside, closed the door, and brought you into his arms, “Come here, baby.”

You settled in his embrace as you peered at the group behind him. To your relief, none of them looked upset with you, not even Namjoon.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, “I was trying to tell you.”

His hand stroked your hair, “I know. It’s okay. Nothing is horribly wrong.”

The other members were shocked he could say such a thing. They all had cause to be very worried, but if he wasn’t going to panic, then neither would they.

When he released you, he checked your face to make sure you were calm. His lips pulled upward into a soft grin, putting aside any of his own worries for the sake of your mental state. You nodded at him, letting him know you were ready to talk about it.

Holding your hand, Jimin brought you into the suite. You exchanged subdued greetings with the others and decided to sit on the edge of the king-sized bed. Your partner sat beside you and handed you a bottle of water, in case you needed it.

“I, um, I guess I’ll just say what happened…” you cleared your throat, “At the airport yesterday, I got shoved in that swarm of fans and the woman standing behind me picked me up. It turned out to be Seoyeon. We sort of just went through TSA together and grabbed a coffee. Until Chaeyoung showed up and recognized her, I wasn’t certain it was really her. I know that you all rightfully have a negative view of her, but she was actually very kind to me. Our conversation ended when she realized that I worked for the company…and that I know you guys. It made her uncomfortable.”

“What did you guys talk about?” Jimin asked putting a soothing hand around your wrist, “I mean…did she mention anything or infer anything?”

“About you or BTS? Not specifically. She made a comment about the industry, though. She said it ‘wasn’t her scene’.”

Jungkook jeered at that, rolling his eyes, “Oh please.”

Your boyfriend scooted a little closer to you, swallowing up his pride, “I’m afraid you’ll need to be more specific. What did you talk about?”

You closed your eyes, wanting to sink into the mattress beneath you, “Babies. We talked about babies. She’s pregnant as well.”

Jimin let go of your wrist. The room went stiff.

You sighed, looking down at your lap, “She married a CEO and was on her way to LA to see him. Nothing nefarious. She wasn’t following you guys or anything. I-I think it was all just a coincidence.”

The guys were waiting for Jimin to reply first.

“No,” he looked at you with all the assurance you needed, “I’m sure it was. If she’s married and starting a family, I highly doubt that she has the time or motivation to screw with us.”

Namjoon looked like he was biting his tongue.

Taehyung leaned against the wall with arms crossed over his chest, “That is, unless she could have had any indication that you two are together now.”

You gulped and looked at your boyfriend, “No, she couldn’t have. Your name never even came up. And we didn’t discuss BTS beyond a brief mention of the airport mob. When she realized who I worked for, she left. She had no interest in digging for more information.”

He sensed your nerves and put his arm around you, “Hey, it’s okay. I believe you. Management told me they will keep an eye out for any rumors, but they weren’t very concerned either. It appears we don’t need to worry about her, so we won’t. Just wanted to hear it from you, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi reinforced, glancing at Jimin before you, “Don’t sweat it.”

The leader of the group dipped his head, brows knitted together in a broadcast of regret.

You nodded, “Okay. Sorry to ruin your little celebration.”

“How did you know?” Jin chuckled.

“It’s no secret that you guys enjoy a some drinks after a shoot like this,” you broke into a grin, “Plus you all smell a bit like champagne.”

Most of them laughed at the comment. Jimin pecked your temple and you yawned. Now that your conscience was clear, sleepiness overtook you.

"Will you come to the dinner with us tomorrow, Y/N?" Hoseok questioned.

"Dinner?"

"Just a team dinner sort of thing. Us and all the staff that came along," Jungkook elaborated, "You should come."

You smiled, "Sounds fun, though I might need to have Chae take me shopping. This could be an excuse for me to finally go get some maternity clothes.”

“Your bump has gotten bigger.” Taehyung smirked.

The oldest member elbowed him, “Don’t say that! It’s rude.”

You laughed and put your hand on your belly, “But it’s true. I’ve grown out of almost every cute top I own. Once it gets cooler, I’m going to need new jeans as well. Ugh, just new everything.”

Hoseok broke into a tender laughter. Everyone looked confused.

Grinning curiously, Jimin asked him, "What, Hobi?"

"Sorry, it's nothing," his eyes were narrow in a glad squint, "I just can't believe you guys are really having a baby. Why does it suddenly feel so real now?"

Yours and Jimin's hearts were warmed.

"It's going to be fun," Jungkook concurred, his endearing bunny smile shining, "Chasing after a tiny version of one of us. Is it a boy or girl?"

"We aren't going to find out," your boyfriend smirked, "Care to make a wager? We each put in fifty-thousand won and then the winning side splits the pot."

Now you were in a playful mood and interjected, "It's a boy. I can feel it."

Jimin laughed and nudged you, "That's a lie. You said you didn't have a gut feeling."

You shrugged, "Well now I do."

"I still think it's a girl," he said before looking at all the members, "And my prediction is more legitimate. I felt it from the beginning."

"I say girl." Jungkook voiced.

"Girl." Jin nodded.

"Boy," Taehyung, "Gotta side with Y/N's maternal instincts."

"Nope," Hoseok chuckled, "Nothing against your instincts, Y/N, but Jimin's a girl dad."

Yoongi pondered it momentarily, "I honestly have no idea, but I'll go with boy, just to keep it interesting."

"If you must, but you're going to have to fork it over when you meet my daughter." Jimin taunted.

The father of the child placed his hand on your protruding abdomen. The gaiety on his face was raw and undeniable. He was happy - truly happy.

Namjoon took stock of this. Only then did it click. There was no way you could be like Seoyeon. She could never create that look on his face, nor could anyone else. Hana’s words replayed in his mind. She was right - you’d done nothing to indicate malevolence. That was the proof in itself.

He was disgusted with himself, so much that he couldn’t find any words to say. How could he even begin to apologize? Until this point, he had been the least supportive friend. He had gone out of his way to try to tear Jimin from a source of pure joy and love.

Wanting to be nice, you extended it to the one person you hadn't given his prediction. "Namjoon?"

Feeling apart from his own self, he stood slowly, “I’m…I’m going to go to bed. Long day, you know?”

There were no utterances of dismay. His cadence was downtrodden, not angry. This was not an act of protest - it was one of contrition.

For once, Jimin saw and believed the remorse, but he let him exit the room regardless. He found himself unable to forgive so easily. What he did was too far over the line.

After the door closed, you looked at all of them, "I think he's starting to come around, actually. Today he-"

"Don't mention that, please." Your boyfriend removed his hand from your bump and used it to sweep hair out of his face, tongue poking his cheek.

"Oh, you already know about what he said?"

"He told us," Jin sat down in his place, "Sorry about that."

"It's alright."

"It's the furthest thing from 'alright'," Jimin groaned with vexation, "The fact that he would go so far as to denigrate you like that to your face."

You put your hand on his back and rubbed it, "Well, it was awkward, but I didn't get the sense that he was purposefully trying to denigrate me. It felt like he was really just searching for answers, out of a place of care...for you."

"That’s no excuse.” he bit back.

You were plainly too tired to get into it. Your body craved rest, and you yawned once more. It forced your boyfriend back to a focus solely set on you.

“You guys should leave. We’re going to turn in.”

You flashed him a puzzled look, “Wait, no. I can’t sleep here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jin laughed lightly as he and the others began to head out, “Anything for your spooning time.”

Jimin chuckled, though his mood wasn’t necessarily jubilant.

You still objected, “Jimin, I really shouldn’t sleep here.”

He wore that gorgeous grin that no woman could refuse, “It’s no big deal, I promise. There are no other staff staying on this floor and you aren’t sharing a room with Chaeyoung. No one will notice.”

Jungkook tiffed, “Not to be weird, but if you were able to pull off spending that many nights at his apartment without being caught, I think you’re good.”

“Night, love birds.” Yoongi called before they all headed out the door.

As much as you didn’t want to risk getting caught, there was always a gravitational pull towards the solace that Jimin never failed to provide for you. You had a hard time saying no to his company.

In this large hotel room now with a population of two, you both took a moment to relax.

He then patted your knee twice and stood up, “You get comfortable, sweetheart. I’m going to clean up real quick.”

As he stood up, you caught the traces of lightness fade from his features. They were replaced with those of hurt, of confusion.

He walked into the bathroom and flicked the light on, closing the door behind him.

You sat there on the bed and listened to the sink run. It wasn’t lost on you that the news was jarring for him. You could only imagine how bizarre it was to have her in the loop of discussion. He’d told you before that she wasn’t someone he liked to talk about - there was a world of pain there that you didn’t know intimately.

He deserved to feel odd about all of this. It had to be okay for him to show a little disdain. He didn’t have to put on a show of strength for you all the time.

When he returned to the bedroom, there was the slightest furrow of his brows, as if he was in deep thought.

You shifted onto your knees, the fluffy white covers beneath you, hands in your lap, “Jimin, can we talk for a minute?”

“Hm?” he spun around, rubbing the back of his neck, “Oh, yeah. Sure.”

“You’re distraught. Is it Namjoon?”

“I mean, yeah, but not entirely. I’ve sort of gotten used to feeling this way about him, unfortunately.”

It was Seoyeon.

You tilted your head, eyes full of pity and concern, “I see…It’s alright for you to feel strange about all of this. I know it’s freaked you out a little.”

He sat on the other side of the bed, back facing you, “I’m not freaked out. I have all the faith that she won’t do anything stupid. It sounds funny, given the way things ended between us, but I know she wouldn’t stoop that low. Especially if she’s…you know.”

“Married and pregnant?”

He paused, revealing the true thorn in his side, “Yes…”

“Jimin, it’s normal to feel weird about an ex moving on. She broke up with you and then quickly got married and now she’s having a baby. It’s not easy to digest. And that’s okay.”

“It’s not even that,” he looked back at you over his shoulder, “It just pisses me off that she got what she wanted. She got her money, her high status. I sort of always took comfort that by ending it with me, she was cheating herself out of getting all of that. But she fucking got it in the end, and she doesn’t deserve it.”

You crawled across the bed to kneel behind him, and you began to rub his shoulders, “So she went and probably used this other guy. I agree that she doesn’t deserve it. But…if we spend time focusing on resenting her, then she gets another win. Personally, I don’t feel like handing another victory to someone who hurt the man I love.”

His shoulders dropped as he shook his head, “How is your heart this golden?”

“It’s not,” you sighed as you let go and scooted over to sit down next to him, “My heart has been tarnished. The fact that my parents won’t even speak to me has been devastating. Sometimes I feel so angry with them that I start to like the idea of never seeing them again. It’s horrible to say, but sometimes I think of our child never having a relationship with them, and I’m content. But then I realize how much power I give them when I do that.”

You began to get choked up, and it was evident by the break in your voice, “And people who would abandon their daughter don’t get to control.”

He put his hand on your knee and frowned, heartbroken for you, “Baby…”

You nodded, pulling it together, “And so, out of my resentment comes some kind of forced indifference. I just choose not to pay them mind, and I can move on. I don’t focus on what they deserve or don’t deserve. I just let the situation be, for the sake of my own peace.”

He kissed your cheek and then you let that same cheek rest on his shoulder.

“I love you,” he said, “You’re right. Letting it linger will only hurt me, not her. And you and our baby girl are far more worth the energy.”

You smiled, “You really are confident about the girl thing, huh?”

“Of course I am,” he chuckled, “I know everything.”

"Well, I know something you don't know."

Voice soft, he hummed, "Hm?"

"I felt movement today." you couldn't help but giggle the words out.

Jimin was instantly more alert. He hastily scooted further from you so he could turn to face you, eyes wide with wonderment, "You did?"

You nodded, "Just these tiny tapping sensations. The baby books are right. It feels like bubbles popping. Actually, it sort of tickled."

He threw his arms around you and laughed melodiously, which caused you to laugh harder. His joy was contagious to you. His embrace was so forceful that you fell back onto the bed together, though he was instinctively careful not to put his full weight on you.

He pulled away so he could lift his shirt from your abdomen and kiss right below your belly button. Then he cooed, "Good job, little one. Daddy's so proud of you for learning how to wiggle around in there."

You cupped your bump as you melted at his words, “Keep growing strong. We love you.”

*Three days later*

It was around eight at night when you heard the door unlatch from where you were standing, at the stove. A hot meal was in progress for you both, simmering in the pot in front of you.

You smiled when you heard him let out a breath of relief to finally be home. You had gotten in a few hours earlier - yours and Chaeyoung's departing flight left before the boys'.

Jimin, still in the entryway, slipped his shoes off and grinned, shaking his head, "Are you cooking?"

"I am." you called back.

He appeared around the corner in shorts and a white t-shirt, with one of his quintessential black bucket hats on his head. Appropriate attire for this scalding September heat.

He took off his hat and let it sit on the island, "Smells amazing."

Then you felt his arms wrap around your middle. As had become a habit, his palms laid flat against your belly.

You hummed as you stirred, "Hi."

"Hi," he smirked, "How are you?"

"Hungry. How are you?"

His low chuckle sounded right by your ear, "Starving. Thanks for doing this. I was prepared to just order something."

"Isn't it nice having me around?" you teased.

Jimin's lips landed behind your ear, "It's a dream having you around, sweetheart...Is this one of your new shirts, by the way?"

It was. Prior to that dinner in LA, you had convinced Chaeyoung to go to the mall with you. You ended up returning home with far more clothing than you brought, all accommodating to your changing shape. The top you were currently wearing was a simple fitted t-shirt in a pretty mocha brown. The material was comparable to that of a yoga top, all soft and stretchy.

"Mhm." you replied.

"I love it. I got so used to seeing you in all these loose tops. Well, my tops. Now I get to see my woman get all nice and big.”

Your mouth went agape as your face turned red, “What a perverted thing to say.”

He smirked into your neck as he kissed you again, “What you deem as perverse is actually just a common thought for any man. And don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

Then he gave your ass a playful slap and went to get himself a glass of water.

While he was at the fridge, you continued to stir, “When will you guys get to see the final cut of the music video?”

“Eh,” he said as he put his glass under the water dispenser, causing it to run, “Usually takes weeks, if not months. But this one doesn’t use as many CGI effects, so it might be faster.”

“What would you guys need CGI for? That theatre was stunning.”

“Yeah,” he grinned, “I loved it. That was probably my favorite choreography we’ve ever done. And my favorite wardrobe.”

The uptick in his inflection made you break into a laugh, “You flatter me.”

“I mean it,” he gulped down some of the cold water, “It was extremely detailed and everything matched the feel of the song. Tell me, whose idea was it to put me and Jungkook in corsets?”

Again, you threw your head back and laughed, “That was Chae. But it was my idea to put you in the white suit.”

Jimin drew closer and leaned over the counter next to you, head propped up by his elbow as he watched you cook, “That was a brilliant choice, baby.”

Looking into the pot, you grinned with a feigned arrogance, “I’m aware. Here, taste this.”

You spooned up a sampling of the sauce and fed it to him. He smacked his lips together a couple times as he absorbed the flavor.

“Need anything?”

“Pinch more of salt.”

You nodded and took the salt shaker from the countertop on your right. You flipped it over and twisted to grind some of its contents into the pot. After giving it another stir, Jimin dipped his finger into the sauce and put it in his mouth.

“Mm,” he affirmed, “Perfect.”

The two of you ate together at the kitchen island. He got himself a bottle of soju from the fridge to take with dinner. When your plates were clean, he took the prerogative to do all the dishes.

“I’ll help you.” you said once he grabbed your plate.

“I’ve got it,” he replied assuredly, “Go shower or get in your pajamas or something.”

With that, he kissed your forehead and went to the sink, slinging one of the drying towels over his shoulder. To you, a warm shower sounded amazing.

You rose from the chair and paused, feeling a little lightheaded. It only lasted a couple of seconds, insignificant. Then you proceeded like normal out of the kitchen and into the bathroom for your rinse.

The water patting on your skin was a massage. You closed your eyes and simply let the droplets hit you for a few minutes, your head falling back. Breaths entered and then left your lungs slowly. It was all supposed to relax you, but instead your mind began to race. Your brain had time to spin, and the weight of it all pressed on your conscience.

You didn’t know when you’d speak to your parents again, or if.

You’d just come back from a successful weekend doing a job you truly loved, and your days working for the company were numbered.

The ex-girlfriend had reappeared.

Your pregnancy and relationship were causing a fracture in one of your boyfriend’s deepest friendships.

The most beautiful part of your life, your love with Jimin, was a like a glittering treasure kept hidden from the world, unable to blossom freely.

You were going to be a mother. A mother. A new person would be entering the world entirely dependent on you for survival and guidance. Ironically, this troubled you less than any of the other things.

You drew in a sharp, hitched breath, held it for a second, and blew it out.

*The next day*

“I just wanted to congratulate you on a successful trip. The producers applauded you and Chaeyoung with your punctuality and attention to detail.”

You were meeting with Sanghee, recapping the shoot.

“Thank you,” you nodded your head with a smile, “I’m so grateful you asked me to go.”

She was warmhearted, “Of course. You are one of the strongest on this team, Y/N. You’ve shown great promise in the time you’ve been here. It was about time you went on one of those trips. I’m sure there will be plenty more in your future. Plus, I wanted you to get a taste of what tour will be like.”

Your eyes got wider, as you hadn’t thought about that in a while, “Oh, right.”

She laughed, swiveling from side to side in her chair, “I know it feels like a long way off, but things move fast around here, as you’ve seen. While I’m at it, I wanted to plant the seed for you to begin thinking about how you’d like to allocate your time on the tour.”

You tilted your head to the side, “Sorry, I’m not sure what you mean?”

“Well, I know it would be extremely tough for you, being a new mom and all. You’d never be expected to be there for the first leg if you didn’t want to. I assumed you’d want to do short stints. But then again, I don’t know what your childcare plan looks like.”

“R-Right,” you sighed, “I will start thinking about all of that. Honestly, there’s a lot I need to work out still.”

Your boss laughed, “Yes, I can imagine. But please know we will be as flexible as we can. You’re valued here and we’d love for you to be there wherever you can make it work.”

It gave you some juice, to hear how wanted you were. A confidence booster was so needed at the moment.

“Thank you, Sanghee. That really means a lot to me.”

“Absolutely,” she crossed one leg over, before taking a sip of coffee from the self-heating mug on her desk, “So enough about work. How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing well,” your sigh was content this time as your hand glided over your new satin maternity blouse, “Started feeling little kicks. My blood pressure had been running a bit high, but other than that it’s good. I’m getting really excited to meet him or her.”

“Ah, my blood pressure was high too, when I was pregnant with my second. I was put on this one medication, I forget the name of it. But it saved me from going on bed rest.”

Your posture sank slightly, “My doctor warned me about bed rest, so I’m glad to hear there’s a medication for it that’s safe for pregnancy.”

Sanghee showed you a sympathetic grin, “Just keep drinking water and eat lots of yogurt. Avocados too, if you like them. They lower blood pressure.”

“I’ll give them a try.” you smirked.

“Good. Speaking of food, I’m heading out for lunch. There’s a new grill down the street that I’ve been dying to try. Care to join?”

Her praise and friendliness felt so good. You couldn’t help but want to please her by agreeing to tag along.

“Sure!”

Your boss stood from her chair and grabbed her large burgundy alligator skin purse, “Perfect. I know it’s hot out there, but are you okay to walk? I’m trying to get my steps in.”

You rose from your chair as well, “Yeah, that’s no…n-no problem…”

Your speech slowed as another wave of dizziness occupied your body. You blinked rapidly, trying to get a handle. There was a troubling lightness in your head. Your chest felt fuzzy.

“Y/N?” Sanghee walked around her desk and held your forearm.

You had a ten-mile stare. Your chest was rising and falling with depth as you wobbled. As your lids began to hang low, she took the initiative and forced you to sit back down in the chair.

Once sitting again, your wits returned. Embarrassed, you shook your head, “Sorry. I’m alright. Just kind of woozy. It’s been happening lately, mostly when I stand up.”

“Kind of woozy?” Sanghee laughed nervously, “You almost just passed out. Why don’t you head home for the rest of the day? Get some rest.”

“Oh, no I’m fine. I stood up too fast.”

“You just told me your blood pressure has been elevated. Now I’m not going to let one of my stylists pass out on my watch. Besides, there’s nothing super important going on today.”

You denied once more, “No really, I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

Sanghee put her warm hands on your shoulders and gave you a stern smile, “I know you’re okay. I just want you to be cautious. You’re probably running on fumes from traveling. Go home, crawl into bed, and get a long nap in. I will find Chaeyoung and have her fill in for you with any small tasks.”

Begrudgingly, you agreed. You got to your feet much slower this time and took it easy as you thanked her and headed back into your office to get your things.

You closed the door behind you and proceeded to put your laptop in your bag, pulling out your phone as you did so.

It wasn’t something you wanted to do, but he would want to be kept informed. You texted Jimin to call you when he got the chance. It would have been your first choice to call him, but you didn’t know what he was up to at the moment and wouldn’t want to disturb.

You flicked off the lights and headed home.

Chaeyoung was on her way to the upper floors of the building. She was trying to locate one of the Managers to turn in her expense report for the trip to LA for reimbursement. Sanghee caught her hopping in the elevator and informed her of your early departure from the office.

As a friend, she worried for you. And that worry remained written on her face when she reached the floor she needed. She pitied you for having to balance so much.

A lack of attention was paid to her direction. When rounding a corner, she bumped into Namjoon. It was a rare occurrence. His studio was nearby, but hardly anyone saw the man when he worked in there. He would come to work and lock in for hours, sometimes even the whole day.

“Oh I’m so sorry!” she squeezed her eyes shut, mortified.

Having known her for a while, Namjoon thought it appropriate to pat her on the shoulder with a lighthearted chuckle, “No problem. You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she huffed, “Only a little concerned for Y/N. Sanghee just sent her home. Apparently she almost fainted.”

His disquiet was genuine. With furrowed brows and a tilted head, he pressed for more information, “Oh shit. Just now?”

“Yeah,” your colleague sighed, clutching the expense report to her chest, “I hope she’s alright. I do worry about her sometimes.”

Namjoon nodded with a hum, “No one wants her to get hurt. I’m sure she’ll rest up and be fine, though. Good to see you, Chae.”

He barely heard her reply when he walked away somewhat briskly. It didn’t matter what had been going on behind the scenes - he just had to let him know.

He’d be in the gym right about now, getting some quick strength training in. Probably with Jungkook at his side.

He hustled down the stairwell because he knew he’d run into less people that way. When he finally reached the gym, his prediction proved true. Joking around while getting some reps in were Jimin and Jungkook.

The two caught him out of the corners of their eyes when they noticed him hurrying over. He wasn’t dressed in workout attire either, so they figured he wasn’t here to join them. Not that Jimin wanted him to.

Namjoon was a bit breathless.

“Hey,” Jungkook nodded his head upward, “Distraught?”

“I don’t know,” he looked at Jimin, “Maybe. I just bumped into Chaeyoung.”

In your boyfriend’s mind, her name was linked with yours. This had something to do with you - the pit in his gut told him as much.

His face softened, shoulders slumped. His voice carried a desperation, “Don’t drag it out, please. Just tell me.”

“Everything’s fine, I think,” Namjoon said more quietly, “But Y/N’s been sent home. Chae said she almost passed out in the office. I don’t know…I remembered the blood pressure thing and thought you’d want to know.”

Jimin went into action mode.

All reservations towards him were put aside. They had to be. Jimin didn’t enjoy it, but he uttered the words, “Thanks for letting me know. I have to go check on her.”

Hastily, he picked his phone up from the black padded bench.

“Shit,” he sighed, “She asked me to call her. I’ll let you guys know if I’ll be back, but I’m not sure.”

“Hope she’s alright.” Jungkook said.

Namjoon concurred, “Do what you have to do.”

Jimin and Namjoon made eye contact before he began to jog out of the gym. He retrieved his keys from his pocket as he hurried out of the building and into the private covered garage. His footsteps echoed in the spacious concrete structure as he came upon his vehicle.

While climbing into the driver’s seat, he called you.

The ignition started as he waited over the course of several rings to hear your voice.

“Hey,” you greeted him, “Slight mishap.”

It was a relief that you sounded fairly normal through the phone. Even still, your partner needed to hear the story from you.

“I know,” he said, his phone connecting to his car so he could speak with you as he drove, “Namjoon told me. And Chaeyoung told him.”

“So Sanghee told Chae,” you sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t actually faint, though. I just sort of…came close.”

He drove out of the garage and turned onto the street, “I’m making my way home. You there?”

“Y-Yes but Jimin please don’t leave work. It’s really nothing.”

“I’ll see you in a little bit.”

Before long, he came home to you. He found you in the living room, laying on the couch with a tall glass of water on the coffee table. You had changed from your work clothes to loungewear, embracing getting comfortable in the middle of the day.

You were in a position for sleep, but your eyes were sullen and awake. Jimin closed the door and you cringed, feeling like an utter inconvenience.

His voice sounded like he was in a hurry as he strided into the living room, “Hey. Hey baby.”

He sat on the edge of the sofa, “Are you okay? Tell me what happened.”

You broke into a sad smile as you propped yourself up into more of a sitting posture, “I was trying to explain that I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine, Jimin. You really didn’t need to fly all the way home.”

“Of course I did,” he batted that ludicrous statement away, “Top priority.”

His hand reached over to cup your left cheek and you looked down, taking hold of his wrist, “I appreciate it, but all that happened was that I stood up too quickly and got dizzy. That’s all.”

He chuckled to keep the mood up, but he found this anything but funny, “I’m glad you were sent home. A brief dizzy spell is okay and probably normal, but in your case it’s a bigger deal, baby. You don’t want me to be concerned, but you know I’m right. We need to watch this closely, hm?”

You brought your eyes back to his and nodded wordlessly.

Jimin gave you a half grin, “And knowing you, I’d be willing to bet that this isn’t the first dizzy spell you’ve had recently.”

Subconsciously, your lips pursed together. It was as though you were tucking them in so they wouldn’t spill the truth.

It was the all the response he needed.

He scooted closer to you and sighed, removing his warm, veiny hand from your face and placing it on your blooming tummy, “You’re not hard to figure out. What other instances have there been?”

You closed your eyes as you admitted, “Yesterday after dinner. Same thing, I stood up and it just hit me.”

His eyes were anxious, maybe even slightly hurt, “I need to know about these things, Y/N. It’s my job to make sure you’re both safe and healthy, but I can’t do that if you don’t let me know. This…It worries me. And it equally disturbs me that you aren’t telling me about it.”

You let it out, “I know. I-I’m sorry. God, I hate it when you’re right.”

Jimin’s low chuckle rang out as he leaned forward, kissing your lips softly. Then he withdrew a few inches from your face.

“Oh my love...” his voice trailed off, “I thought you knew that you’re my life. That I will always, always put you first.”

Your tone was meek, “I do.”

He kissed the tip of your nose, “You don’t, if you think you’re burdening me.”

You felt totally deflated. He knew your soul, your entire being. There was no concealing anything from this man.

Half of you wanted to call him a jerk for stripping you bare of any excuses, while the other half wanted to melt into his arms for being such a blessing in your life.

Your eyes came to glisten with fresh tears, but not enough for any to fall. Your lips twitched into a smile, “A burden? Me? Never.”

Another laugh broke from Jimin as he returned to an upright posture , “That’s right, sweetheart. Can I get you anything? Did you eat lunch?”

“Not yet,” you replied, “I was hoping to nap before I ate, but I’m kind of hungry now.”

“I’ll make you something. You just relax.”

He got up and proceeded off into the kitchen. You heard him opening and closing the cupboards, looking for a culmination of ingredients, humming a tune as he went about it,

“Avocado toast and some berries?” He called back to you, “Or do you need something bigger?”

“That should be good,” you approved, “Oh, and could you mash the lumps out of the avocado? Lately I can’t stand the chunky texture. And maybe a little more lime juice? Oh, and some onion? And salt?”

Jimin smirked as he sliced the green fruit open, then grabbing a spoon to take out the pit, “So I’m making guacamole and putting it on bread. Got it.”

You laughed in return, “If you don’t mind.”

You spent the next several minutes searching for something to watch on Netflix. When your doting boyfriend came back with a plate to set down on the coffee table, you sat up more to make room for him.

“Thank you so much.”

“I’m glad to make my girlfriend and baby some nutritious food.”

You didn’t hesitate to bite into the toast smeared with a creamy green spread, “Actually, Sanghee told me she had high blood pressure when she was pregnant. She said avocados help lower it.”

“Even better.” he pushed your hair behind your ear so he could see your satiated expression.

You hummed with contentment as you swallowed, “And she also said there’s a medication for it. Doctor Yoon didn’t mention that to us.”

Jimin sat back and stretched his arms high, preparing to fully settle in with you, “That’s good. Maybe we’ll give her a call then, ask about it. At the very least, your OBGYN should know about these spells.”

“I will later.”

“Promise?”

You rolled your eyes in a genial manner, “I prom- Oh!”

The hand that wasn’t holding your toast flew to your belly. With a mouthful of food, you had to try to keep it all in, “Hi, little baby.”

Jimin beamed, scrambling to sit back up, “Is she kicking??”

You giggled and nodded as you caught the slip of the tongue. He really did seem to know in his heart that this precious new life was a daughter.

“Where? I want to feel.”

“Here,” you guided his hand to the spot where you could feel the flutters on the inside, “But you won’t feel it from the outside. I couldn’t.”

He pouted briefly before kissing the spot, “That’s okay. You just keep getting stronger in there, then Daddy can feel you cause a ruckus.”

With a giggle, you popped a few berries into your mouth, “I’m sure it will happen soon enough.”

Jimin reached across your lap to pick a blueberry off your plate. He put it on his thumb and flicked it up, craning his head back to catch it in his mouth before leaning back to his original spot.

His focus turned to the TV screen, “So what are we watching?”

You gave him your confused gaze, “Um, don’t you need to go back to work?”

“I can miss one dance practice,” he assured you, “And it’s been a while since I’ve had a day off. Don’t you want to sit here all day and be unproductive with me?”

You laughed, “I suppose I do. Though we could actually do something we’ve been meaning to do and start talking about what we want to name this munchkin.”

He mulled it over for a moment, unable to prevent his tight, half smirk from forming, “Hm…we could…Alright, why not? Do you have a girl or boy name you’ve always loved?”

As you finished your toast, you shrugged, “I have plenty of names I like, but for some reason none of them feel good enough now. Here, let’s look at the book Chaeyoung gave me. It should be on the side table next to you.”

“Ah,” he murmured as he stretched his arm behind him, “Got it. Okay, let’s see…Are we doing boy names or girl names first?”

*3 weeks later*

It took what seemed like forever to get everyone's schedules to align, but the group was finally getting together with all of the girlfriends. Originally, the plan was to go to Jin's place, but the guys were itching to see what your apartment looked like after the move.

You were in the middle of doing your makeup at your vanity, sitting on a comfy cream-colored pouf. Your guests would be arriving in a little over an hour, so time was of the essence.

Jimin entered the bedroom after prepping everything for dinner, taking off his shirt so he could shower fast.

“Everything’s chopped up and ready to go,” he said, “Kimchi is in the fridge too.”

“Got it, thank you.” you replied as you finished swiping mascara on your lashes, twisting the cap back on the tube.

He came over to peck you on the top of your head without a second thought, making you smile. When he turned around, he stripped the rest of his clothes. You watched his reflection in your vanity. The lighting in the room was perfect to show the contours of his body, all the parts where his frame would curve and then cave with muscle tone.

His natural dark hair was back, and it was getting long. It swept along the back of his neck, right above the crescent part of his moon phases tattoo.

He had gradually gotten leaner from all the stress. Nothing too concerning, since he was still eating and exercising a healthy amount, but it was noticeable to you. His jawline became sharper, and that was always a key tell when he was losing weight.

“I’m glad we’re doing this.” you said.

Surprising yourself, you weren't the slightest bit nervous. It was long overdue, and you could finally speak to women who were going through the same thing as you - dating a member of BTS in secret.

He glanced back at you, “So am I. I want you to be close to them. They're family."

"I completely agree..." you saw the perfect opportunity to bring up a still ongoing topic, "Which makes me wonder, where are you with Namjoon lately? I haven't seen him since the hotel in LA."

Jimin put his dirty clothes in the hamper and mumbled, "It's better."

"That's it? Just 'better'?"

He let out an irritated sigh, "Yeah. We haven't clashed in any way. And he's...actually sort of, well, been kind recently."

You smirked, "Those words taste like vinegar coming out of your mouth or something?"

He disappeared into the bathroom, "Yes, they do."

You closed your eyes and let out a breath, calling after him, "Sorry. I didn't mean to make you upset. But I'm relieved that you're starting to see what I meant that night when he left the hotel room. He was only ever trying to be a good friend to you, Jimin. And I think he's realizing that he was wrong. You should make amends."

You heard a tiff from him, “I’m not quite ready for that. Even though our relationship hasn’t been as rocky, he never formally apologized.”

“Must he come on bended knee to be forgiven?”

The shower turned on, making it more difficult to hear him, but what you thought you heard was, “Yeah. He does. He came after you and tried to label you a terrible person. He insulted me too, telling me that I think with my dick. He went out of his way time and time again to separate us by trying to make me question my love for you. It’s not something I’m just going to write off. He needs to apologize for all of it.”

“And would you forgive him if he did?”

There was no response - only water droplets pattering on the shower floor.

“…Jimin?” your tone was hesitant now.

He huffed, “Yeah?”

“Remember when we were talking about all the bitterness aimed at Seoyeon? How it would only hurt you to let your anger linger?”

You heard an ironic chuckle echo from the bathroom, “Are you going to tell me to forgive her too?”

“No,” you said, “I am asking you to forgive your brother. Don’t let this grudge last. It will only cause you pain in the end. And besides, unlike Seoyeon, Namjoon is a good person at his core. You know that. And deep down, I think you know he only wanted to protect you. You just said it yourself - you're family."

Once more, you didn't get a response. This time, you decided to drop it. There were things to be done to finish preparing for dinner.

About an hour later, Yoongi and Taehyung were the first to arrive. Jimin, in fresh clothes and a seemingly improved mood, let them in as you set the table for a party of eleven.

From the other room, you heard them enter and gasp.

"Damn," Taehyung laughed boisterously, "Color? In Jimin's apartment? This is insane."

"Yeah, for once it doesn't feel all cold and empty." Yoongi remarked with his famous monotone, "Guess you need to keep Y/N around."

You smiled with pride as you arranged the bowls and plates. The guys rounded the corner into the dining room and you greeted them warmly, “Hey guys!”

“Good to see you,” Taehyung smiled, “We love how you brightened up the place.”

You chuckled, “I was eavesdropping. Thanks.”

Jimin put his hands up in puzzlement, “Apparently I lived in a dungeon before you moved in.”

“Can we do anything to help?” asked Yoongi.

"No, but thank you," you said, "Go get comfortable. Have a drink, chat. I'm going to start cooking in a bit."

Your boyfriend put his arm around your waist and pointed to the bar area, at the other end of the dining room, "There's wine, whiskey, soju, beer, take whatever you want."

The two made their way over to the bar to fix themselves a drink. You looked at Jimin with confused eyes and leaned to the side to whisper to him, "Shouldn't you pour their drinks? You're hosting."

"They don't require the etiquette." he smirked down at you.

Then his hand traveled down to your ass. He squeezed it gently, making your posture straighten.

"But I required a moment to tell you how gorgeous you look," his raspy mutter filled your eardrums, "I really can't get enough of these new clothes, showing off my baby so well."

The man had balls, daring to flirt with you when you had so much else to do. You knew that snake-like, charming tone like no other. Well, if he wanted to toy with you tonight, then you'd play along.

You cocked a brow, "So complimentary, and you haven't even seen the full collection."

He hummed in your ear, "What else did you buy? Something just for me, sweetheart?"

Your cheeks flushed and you didn't want him to see it, so you removed yourself from him and strolled into the kitchen with nonchalance, "Bold of you to assume such a thing."

Jimin bit the inside of his cheek as he watched you leave his side. He loved how you could simply decide to throw his game right back in his face. This was the type of fun the two of you always had, from the very beginning. The push and pull, with a solid foundation underneath it.

Soon, everyone else trickled in. You were introduced to Hana, Yunhee, and Aejun. They were Namjoon’s, Hoseok’s, and Jin’s girlfriends respectively. You’d seen them around a few times, but weren’t supposed to know who they were, so you were never introduced.

All three were as kind as could be. Within moments of their arrival, they were helping you in the kitchen, giving the members their “guy time”.

Yunhee, lanky with hair dyed a strawberry blonde, was stirring the rice for you, “So tell us how it’s been, Y/N. I mean, we’ve all heard about you for a while now.”

You laughed it off - it was a question that warranted a thousand answers.

"Oh, I'm okay. A lot of it has been hard, but as far as we know we have a healthy baby on the way and we're excited."

"You look adorable!" gushed Aejun, a short, slightly curvier woman with these large, doe-like eyes, "How many weeks?"

"Almost twenty-four," you said while filling up a water pitcher for the table, "It's flying by, even though we've had some difficulty. Bumps in the road."

Hana's voice was gentler and compassionate. Her cadence reflected that of her boyfriend, "Look, we can all be friends. And we're all women here. You can be honest."

You smiled somewhat bashfully, and then it faded, "Alright, it's been more than bumps in the road. I've been so stressed lately that it's manifested into high blood pressure. I had to get on medication for it, which has been helping with the light-headed spells, but not the stress and I still...I just wish this could all feel more normal."

Yunhee gave you a sullen, sympathetic look, "We know exactly what you mean. It sucks, having to love someone and hide it all the time. It's a price all four of us pay to be with them."

Hana gave her some glasses to take over and put at each place setting. She left the kitchen momentarily.

The three women knew about the things you weren't sharing. They heard it from their boyfriends, who heard it from Jimin at one point or another. It was a mutual decision not to press you, especially during their first real encounter with you.

Aejun smirked, "Hey, we each get our return on investment, don't we?"

Hana's reaction of hitting her shoulder with a giggle confirmed that it was intended as a dirty joke. You laughed too.

Yunhee returned from the dining room, "Anything else I can take. Y/N?"

"No, you're good. Thanks so much for helping, guys."

"Of course!" Hana batted your praise away.

Yunhee added, "Also, before I forget, you should join us for our little dinner date. Once a week, we all grab dinner somewhere in the city just to hang out, let off steam."

"Oh yes, you should definitely come along," Aejun nodded, "It's been great for us to be around people who understand, you know? You're in this little circle now, so it's essentially mandatory."

Her humor was dry, like Jin's.

You giggled, "I'd love to."

In the other room, the guys could hear your muffled laughter. Jimin kept glancing back in the direction of the kitchen with a grin, relieved that you seemed to be hitting it off. To hear your beautiful giggle ring out with other women was like a gift to him. Perhaps new friendships could help ease this entire situation for you.

“Guess they’re best friends now.” Hoseok chuckled before nursing from the rocks glass in his hand.

“That’s no bad thing,” your boyfriend sighed happily, letting his head rest fully on the back of the couch, “This has been a missing piece for Y/N since we got together.”

“Imagine ten years into the future,” Jim said, “We all have wives and kids running around, and we do things like this where we get together. The women cook the dinner and we do the dishes after, while our kids play hide and seek or something.”

“Jesus, Jin,” Yoongi looked somewhat terrified, “Getting ahead of ourselves there, aren’t we? Half of us aren’t even seeing anyone.”

“What? I like the sentiment.” he defended the picture.”

Jimin’s soft grin appeared as he envisioned the same thing, moving his hand in a small circle to swirl the drink in his glass, “No, I like it too.”

Taehyung was sitting next to him and gave him a nudge, glancing to the side to make sure none of the ladies heard him. He lowered his volume, “And speaking of wives, do we hear wedding bells for you and Y/N anytime soon?”

He wasn’t expecting to be asked that question, but it was a natural one to ask. Not that he was bothered by it.

With a cheeky grin, Jimin clinked their glasses together.

He closed the door behind them on their way out. When it was just the two of you again, you both looked at one another and laughed a little.

You put your hands on your cheeks, “Oh my gosh, my face aches from smiling so much.”

“Mine too,” he said, “Sorry about the drinking at the end. I hope you didn’t feel left out.”

You started back into the living room, “Not at all. I think you guys are hilarious when you drink.”

He followed you, “We will have to do that again. I think you’ll have Jungkook crawling back for your bulgogi alone.”

You smirked, bending over the coffee table to pick up stray glasses, “I will cook for them anytime.”

“Must we do more dishes?” Jimin pouted.

You could decipher by his inflection that he was feeling a little buzzed.

“Yes,” you laughed, handing him a few, “Otherwise we will have to do them in the morning, and I hate doing that.”

You each had four glasses to carry into the kitchen. You put them all next to the sink and began to hand wash them. They could have been put in the dishwasher, but you were more particular with glassware. You liked to make sure they came out looking perfectly clean and shiny.

At this stage in gestation, you were unable to lean over the sink like you used to. Your belly met the edge of the counter, so you needed to perform the task with your arms stretched further.

Jimin rested his chin on your shoulder, “You don’t look comfortable doing that.”

“Then you take my place.” you laughed, turning your head his way.

He kissed your cheek, “I’d rather not.”

Then his lips found the sensitive bit of skin, where the corner of your jaw met your neck. You felt an eager pit form in your stomach and tilted your head slightly, giving him just a tiny bit more access.

“And what would you rather do?”

“I’d rather see the rest of the collection.”

You giggled, “You’re still hung up on that from earlier?”

“Mhm.”

“You’re assuming it’s lingerie?”

“I’m not assuming,” his voice was like honey, “I know it is. Let me see what you picked out for me, baby. Dishes can wait.”

He brought his pelvis further into you, so you could feel him stiffening. He kept kissing your neck, his hands wrapping around your growing middle.

“You wanna know what I read the other day?” he asked with a rasp, “A great way to reduce stress is to orgasm.”

You finally set the glass down at the bottom of the sink, “You’re really trying everything to get into my pants, aren’t you?”

He chuckled in the manner he knew would do you in, “Keep acting like you aren’t desperate to take a load of my cum. Like you don’t want me to make you squirm.”

You pushed the envelope even further, your body heating up, “You’re just tipsy and horny.”

Jimin took control of your hips, moving them side to side against his bulging crotch, “I’m offering you a reward, sweetheart.”

“A reward?”

“For being the perfect hostess tonight. For making me a baby. For being the love of my life.”

The love of his life.

He’d never called you that before. Maybe he was just under the influence, but it had you overflowing with love and desire.

“Well then,” you turned around with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I guess I should go get changed.”

He laughed, “I knew it was lingerie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you kissed him deeply, “You got me all figured out.”

He ended up sitting on the bed, waiting for you to appear from the bathroom in whatever racy little thing you had prepared.

The door opened slowly, revealing you in a cherry red babydoll. The whole thing was lace with a matching thong underneath. The fabric split like a curtain around your belly.

Jimin looked like he wanted to devour you, eyes dark with ardor, pupils blown out.

Your voice was soft and sultry, “Do you like it?”

“Come sit,” he leaned back, “Let me see you up close.”

You padded over to him and lifted one leg after the other, straddling him. Your bump grazed against his torso. Jimin let out a hum that sounded more like a growl as he caressed your thighs.

"Look at that," he whispered, playing with the delicate lace between his fingers as he kissed your breasts, "All dressed up for me. All mine,"

He was bulging, but not fully hard yet. You reinforced yourself by putting your hands on his knees, slowly gliding your hips forward, back, and forward again. You wanted to make him weak.

"Yeah baby," Jimin cupped your ass and squeezed, "Get my cock nice and hard."

You released a soft moan, the friction exciting your bud. The sound of your pleasure accomplished your goal.

“You get to choose how you get fucked tonight.” he smirked, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear so he could press his lips to yours.

You giggled into the kiss, “Is that my reward?”

“One of them,” he said, “You get three.”

“What are the other two?”

“Getting to cum, and receiving mine.”

You moaned into another passionate kiss before whispering exactly what you wanted.

It wasn’t what he was expecting to hear, but it delighted him nonetheless. Before going any further, his eyes softened, taking him out of the blinding lust for a moment, “Are you sure that won’t be too much for you?”

You resumed grinding your hips back and forth against his member, “I couldn’t be more sure…Daddy.”

And he was back, eyes filled with fervor. He spanked you, played with your ass cheeks in his hands, “You want to ride Daddy’s cock, baby? Show Daddy what you can do.”

You smirked as you got off his lap for a moment, giving him time to remove his bottoms. He scooted over to the head of the bed, laying flat on his back. He may have had the dominant nickname, but you were going to make him desperate one way or another.

You crawled back onto the bed seductively, “Should I get naked too, Daddy?”

“No, let me marvel at you in this for a while longer,” he said, cock straight in the air with precum leaking from the reddened tip, “I fucking love how it shows off your belly.”

His pregnancy kink was going to be the death of him. You chose to exploit that.

“Yeah, Daddy?” you swung your leg back over his frame, sitting on his cock but not granting him access just yet, “How does it look this way?”

He let out an exasperated, charged breath, hands on either side of your bump, “You look divine, sweetheart. So beautiful for me, making my child.”

You moved your hips on him again, letting him feel the magnitude of your wetness. It swayed the power back to him.

“Look at you, dripping all over Daddy’s cock.”

You pushed the g-string to the side. In one go, you lifted your hips, positioned him, and sat fully back down. He filled you to the hilt, both of you letting out moans.

You began to bounce up and down the shaft, setting a steady rhythm. Even better, your clit rubbed against his base each time you went down, delivering the perfect amount of pressure.

He looked like a dream beneath you, chin tilted up towards the ceiling with his plump lips parted, releasing low grunts. His brows were scrunched down as he searched to find the resolve not to ram up into you. His veiny hands were gripping your ass so hard you thought you might bruise.

Jimin’s siren eyes bore the sight of you from an angle so deliciously erotic - the woman he loved, round with his child, riding his cock. Your breasts bobbing up and down.

“Shit,” he groaned, “So fucking hot, baby. Tell me how it feels.”

“S-So good, Daddy,” you mewled, “I wanna go faster.”

“You can go faster, sweetheart,” he gave your ass a slap, “Make yourself feel good. Show Daddy how hard you can cum.”

As you picked up your pace, Jimin devoted his fingers to the service of your femininity, rubbing you.

You whined and put one hand on his chest. Knowing he’d go crazy for it, you dug your nails in and scratched down his sternum. He threw his head back and inhaled a hiss.

“Ah, fuck!”

You wore a smirk amid the building pleasure, “Sorry, did that hurt?”

“Play nice, baby. Or I’ll bend you over and fuck your brains ou- Shit!”

Your pace sped up even more, your cunt enveloping him repeatedly. His tip was kissing your cervix.

“What were you saying, Daddy?” you panted.

Jimin gritted his teeth, “You’re fucking enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Mhm,” you mewled, “I’m enjoying my reward.”

He unleashed a frustrated groan, “Good, because it’s the last time I’m giving you one.”

You half laughed, half moaned. He hadn’t stopped rubbing your clit, delivering wave after wave, coating his dick in more of your arousal. The sound produced was lewd.

“Jimin…”

He knew you were getting close, “Come on, baby. Let me see you make a mess all over my cock.”

“N-No,” you whimpered, “I don’t want to cum yet.”

He smirked, and removed his hand from your clit, “As you wish.”

Without warning, he grabbed your wrists and pulled you forward, freeing his hips to thrust up into you. He bucked up into your confines with a battering speed.

You lost any trace of superiority. All dominance fell to him in an instant. Now you were in purgatory, feeling a euphoric sensation without that bundle in your stomach.

“My turn, baby," he taunted, "Just stay still like a good girl and take it. Fuck. Such a tight little cunt. Makes me wanna fill you with more of my babies."

The thought had you moaning in a way that made you grateful the walls were completely soundproof. He was rutting into you from below, his trained, flexible dancer hips being put to good use. With every thrust, your body was shuffled forward, your lace-covered breasts dangling over his face.

"You're such a perfect mother, sweetheart. Already making milk to feed our baby. Shit, I'm getting close."

You took advantage of this short moment of weakness to sit upright, back to your original position. Jimin tried to keep pounding into you out of his own volition, but it was to no avail. The shift made it impossible to move the way he wanted to.

He huffed, "Baby, move. Please.”

Amidst your panting, a soft grin grew on your face, "I always get to cum first, though.”

“Fuck,” he breathed in sexual frustration and rapture, “You want my fingers again? Can you handle Daddy’s fingers this time?”

You nodded eagerly, “I can handle it.”

Jimin flashed you an arrogant grin after biting the inside of his cheek, “You want to cum, then start riding me again, baby.”

“Fine, but you can’t move your hips this time,” your fingertips gently traced the red scratch marks on his chest, “You have to leave it all to me.”

He opened his mouth to say something smart - you could tell by what his eyes carried. To shut him up, you bounced on him once, making him moan loudly.

Seeking revenge, he began to rub your clit again, coating his fingers in a slick of your juices and his precum. Your head dipped back as he brought you closer to the stars, resuming a steady pace on his cock.

“Act tough all you want, baby,” he grunted, “You’ll always melt under my touch like this. Don’t ever forget who you belong to.”

The pleasure was too great for your pride to care. You mewled out for him, “Faster!”

The circles on your bud became rapid. You moaned every time you sank back down on his member, chasing your orgasm until you snapped a few seconds later.

You clenched and spasmed around him, halting your movements as you were jolted with a love-made current. Jimin let you ride it out, enthralled by the sight of you experiencing the height.

When you came down, you opened your eyes and put one hand on his chest, the other back on his thigh. Pushing your afterglow aside for now, you wanted to make him come undone like it was the first time.

Stabilizing yourself, you rode him as hard as you could. Jimin didn’t expect it. Your orgasms usually took so much energy from you. You bounced mercilessly.

His eyes drained of any cheekiness. He was fully under your control one last time, entranced by the way his cock was repeatedly disappearing into your warmth. He was totally at your whim, hands cupping your ass and feeling it jiggle slightly with every contact between your cunt and his base.

He moaned in a way you rarely heard.

“Y/N!”

Not yet satisfied, you pushed the envelope even further, “Are you gonna give me a nice big load, Daddy?”

“Yeah,” his cheeks were tinged pink at this point, “Gonna spill my seed into you, baby. Fuck, keep going.”

Thighs starting to exhaust themselves, you kept it up.

“Right there, baby…Right there…Fuck, keep doing that. I’m cumming.”

His semen flooded into you, a throaty groan escaping his lips. His neck craned back into the pillow as his hips and legs jerked, an uncontrollable mechanism as his balls emptied.

“God, baby….”

As both of you labored to breathe, gravity caused his white material to begin leaking out of you almost immediately, coating both of you in it.

You smiled through your panting, relaxing, “Thank you for my reward.”

A low chuckle rumbled through him, “You’re something else. Fuck, I’m so tired now.”

“Me too,” you giggled, “Though I think I might be stuck here.”

You were only half kidding. It took more effort than you were used to in order to hoist yourself off him. Your hips were aching, but the walk to the bathroom helped them readjust.

Your spent boyfriend followed you, hair matted and messed up on the back of his head.

His forearm was pressed against the door frame and he leaned on it, watching you tidy yourself up, “Can you wear that again soon?”

“I can…” you ran a brush through your hair, “If you’d rather not see the other things I bought.”

Jimin raised a brow as he made the few paces over to you, “Oh, there’s more?”

His lips started attacking your collarbone, forcing a squeal from you.

When both of you had cleaned up, you crawled into bed. As was the norm for him, especially now, he rolled over to spoon you. He said it helped him sleep, knowing his love and his child were safe in his arms.

“Goodnight.” you yawned.

“Night,” he lazily kissed your hair, “I love you. So so much.”

“I love you too, Jimin.”

*The next day*

He was awake at seven in the morning, stirred out of his sleep by the continuous buzzing on his phone.

Eyes hardly able to open, he reached to his nightstand and tapped the screen, revealing a steady stream of new messages popping up.

It was his group chat with the members, blowing up in a panic. At first, none of the texts made sense:

“How could she do this?”

“This is going to be a nightmare.”

“Jimin, are you okay?”

“Let us know what we can do for you guys.”

He scrolled up to the beginning of the conversation, which made his heart stop. It was a link to an article, with a thumbnail that pierced his soul with a burning fury.

This couldn’t be happening.

His head felt fuzzy, vision not yet fully adjusted. His nerves skyrocketed as he left the bed, still being mindful not to wake you. Once he left the bedroom, he allowed his body to move more according to his emotions - frantically.

He was moving about the living room and dining room, pacing yet feeling frozen.

Then he had an incoming call. Oddly, the contact name didn’t perturb him. In a crisis, this was the name he trusted, even after everything that had happened between them.

“Namjoon,” he answered, voice hoarse and panicked, “What the fuck is that? Is it real?”

“Did you click on the link?”

“No,” he replied, running a nervous hand through his hair, “I-I don’t think I want to. Just tell me if that’s a real article.”

The other end was silent for a moment. He could hear Namjoon take a deep breath, “It’s real. I’m so sorry.”

Jimin felt like he could have died. He wanted to rip up the flooring and crawl underneath it, encasing him from the world.

“Holy shit…” he felt detached from everything, “Fuck, what do we do? What do I do? Y/N can't see this."

"She's going to," he said with all the sympathy in the world, "You can't keep it from her."

"No, no...I...I don't understand. I don't- fuck! Why?! Who did this?! Was it her?!"

"No one knows," Namjoon kept his tone even, "But we will figure it out, alright?"

His tongue dripped poison, "I swear to fucking God, if she's behind this, I'll-"

"Jimin?..." your voice was quiet as you emerged from the bedroom. He'd woken you up, having not fully shut the door when he left your side moments prior. You were tying your white fluffy robe around your center, eyes squinting slightly.

He looked at you like a deer in headlights, "I'll call you back, hyung."

He hung up, tossing his phone onto the couch.

You were becoming more alarmed by the second, watching your boyfriend self-soothe gliding his hands over his face and into his hair.

"What's going on?"

"Come sit," he said, "We have a situation."

Your gut twisted as you slowly went to sit down beside him. Jimin took your hands, angling his body to face you directly. He brought your cold hands up to his lips, kissing them.

"I need you to know that I love you," his morning voice was unstable, "I love you a-and we will be okay. We can get through anything together."

You turned your head a little, concerned eyes never leaving his, "You're scaring me..."

He held your hands firmly and set them on his lap, "There's an article. A big one, from a big publication. About the baby...but they think it's me and Seoyeon. They think I'm her baby's father."

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Slash x reader where reader is like depressed and shit and no one notices but him

A/n: Kind of not the same thing you wrote but Slash with depressed reader

Warnings: Depression, Slash yelling (if you can picture that, man is soft), if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

"Open the fucking door!" Slash yelled, banging on the front door to your apartment. An older woman who lived by you gave him an odd look as she passed but he couldn't care less. "Answer the fucking door! I know you're in there!"

He'd seen it all happen, it took him too long to realize and he hated himself for it but it didn't matter right now, all that mattered was that you were safe. Of course, he couldn't see you through the door.

You were distancing yourself from him, turning down his invitations to dinner whether it was a restaurant or just ordering pizza. He never found you already in bed when he came home, in fact he found your key he'd given you in the kitchen.

You smiled when you were with him but he'd catch you staring out the window. If you were in bed with him you were on your side and scrolling through your phone.

Slash took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down. His yelling was probably scaring you, he never yelled at anyone, let alone at you. He never raised his voice and he didn't bang on doors. Not just because he knew how much bigger he was than you, he just wasn't a violent person.

It didn't stop the doors latch from snapping off when he hit the thing again, making it swing open. He made a quick mental note to pay for it before looking further into your apartment.

There was garbage everywhere, you hadn't cleaned in weeks and you hadn't left your house in days. That's what finally tipped him off, he realized he hadn't heard more than a few texts from you 'good morning' 'goodnight' 'I love you'.

He looked to the kitchen and found you slumped against the fridge. Panic filled him and he raced over to you, kneeling next to you and looking you over. He had no training in anything, he had no idea what he was doing or what he was looking for.

He kept repeating your name and pleading for you to say something, anything while he desperately searched for your pulse. He at least knew where your pulse points were but he wasn't sure what good was supposed to feel like so he kept feeling his own heartbeat, of course he kept getting a shock from his pacemaker.

"Say something." He muttered, turning your head to him. "Anything?" He waited another moment before he picked you up and set you on the counter, unintentionally banging your head on the cupboard above. "Say something, for the love of god!" He yelled, holding you by the shoulders.

You blinked, staring at him blankly. "Why are you here?" You asked, voice raspy and weak.

His hold on you tightened. "Are you fucking kidding me?" He gave you a shake. "Because I fucking love you and you're in here looking half fucking dead, what the hell happened?!"

Tears pricked your eyes, no words formed for you to say. You wanted to apologize, to tell him you were going to try better, to fix yourself. Instead you just leaned forward and fell into him.

He couldn't very well push you off so he wrapped his arms around you and held you tight. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "I'll get this place fixed, alright?"

You shook your head. "I-I'll do it, it's my mess."

"No." He stated firmly, leaving no room for argument. "You're going back home with me, and you're going to stay there because you need someone, you don't get to just fuck off anymore." He pulled you off the counter and carried you out of the apartment.

"The door." You mumbled, looking back at it as it swung sadly.

"No one's going in there, they'll take one look and know nothings worth stealing." He explained. He spoke again before you could say anything. "No one's going to assume you have someone to buy you nice shit, they'll see the place is trashed and figure someone got to it first."

You had to believe him, he used to be a thief so it's not like he was pulling shit out his ass. You also had no energy to fight him, no will to.

He carried you out to his car and buckled you in, kissing your forehead before closing the door and walking around to the drivers side.

While he drove he made a few calls, cleaning services and someone to fix your door, he was getting you your damage deposit back while hinting to you that you were moving in with him.

He wasn't actually going to make you do anything, he walked you right to his room. He had his arm around you but he wanted you to walk.

Slash stopped you from going to the bed and led you to the bathroom instead. "Bath or shower?" He asked.

"Sleep." You mumbled.

"That's not an option right now, bath or shower?" He repeated, hands resting on your hips. "A bath would be warm, smelling salts and all that shit... but a shower would be quick, so pick."

You thought for a long moment, leaning on him because it was easier than forcing yourself to stand. "You'll be in there with me..?" He nodded without hesitation. "Bath..."

He let you slump back on the tiled floor while he went to get you some clothes to change into, a shirt of his and some old shorts, he wasn't sure where they came from but he figured they'd fit you.

The bath was just what you needed. It relaxed your muscles and you melted into Slash. He even placed a facecloth over your eyes so didn't have to look at yourself. He wasn't making you do anything for a while, he'd encourage you and make sure you took care of yourself, but he understood depression to an extent.

You'd sleep with him, he'd say nothing but sweet things to you, he'd make sure you left the bedroom at least once a day even if it was just to move to the couch.

After a week he started waking you up so you could make breakfast together. He set up a chair and move it around for you so you didn't have to worry about standing.

Daily walks, weekly baths that soon turned to every other day, same went for brushing your teeth. This wasn't going away any time soon, he knew that much, but that didn't mean he was just going to sit back and watch you dissolve.

[fracturedodr]

Oh, that had to hurt.

Bell flinched at the grip Freya had on Hogni's hair, wishing he could do something to help but knowing that if he tried, if he rushed her... Probably worse things than just yelling would happen. And he wasn't in a state to be fighting right now anyway - he was still shaking from the flashback, from being so utterly convinced he was in the deep floors again.

"My... soul?" He repeated quietly. That was what she'd seen, that she had grown so obsessed with? Past tense, he noted though. Had been. Not 'is'. Was. An implication that his soul wasn't clear anymore. He wasn't sure what that meant, nor how to feel about it, and so set it aside for now to discuss with Hestia later.

Assuming he got that far.

"You can't just... force, love..." Bell muttered - those angry thorns were still there in his chest, he was trying so hard to keep a reign on them- "I don't-" Cutting off, hands still in fists, he wanted to yell at her so badly because God or not she didn't understand-

A pause.

Why did it matter if he kept himself from yelling? If it came down to it, she'd probably kill him anyway, or steal him back and start over, Hogni begging her not to, or not. He was terrified, but now he was angry in equal measure, and was beginning to understand what it was that made him so thoroughly angry at her, enough so to wonder if it was hate.

"I don't care that you're a goddess, I care that you lied!" He yelled, finally. And that was it, wasn't it? That was the crux of it. He'd believed her, trusted her, taken comfort that she, at least, was being honest with him - and then he'd steadily realized that... she hadn't. That out of everyone, she'd been the one lying the MOST. About every little thing, down to what he'd done, where he'd went, and who he'd spoken to. "Noone knew me and I felt like I was going insane, I thought you were the only person who'd never lie to me, but-" it was, perhaps, partly due to the prior stress that he found himself ranting at her like this - he was tired, scared, stressed, dirty, and he just wanted to curl up somewhere small and alone and isolated so he could decompress from all this bullshit! "-but the only thing you ever did was lie! Why would I ever stay with someone if all they do is lie to me?!"

And further, why would he believe that he would any different than the hundreds of people already in her Familia who may well have believed themselves to be her Odr? Why, when the odds were so high that he'd just become another doll on her shelf of carefully curated collectables whose only purpose was to look pretty and wait for her to want to play? No. If he was anything, he refused to be hers. Not if that was how she showed her love.

Freya stared at Bell incredulously. She slowly let go of Hogni's chin, but her fingers found their way into his hair again...gentle, affectionate. "Do you know how long I've been searching for them--for you? For my Odr? If it's not you, then when? Who?!"

There was a quiet sound from Hogni as she suddenly gripped a fistful of his hair. He still hadn't let go of her leg, though. He'd keep her there, keep her from getting any closer to Bell.

"Your soul was so clear, so pure...innocent. I thought you were my Odr. The one that could love me, beyond my status as a Goddess of love and beauty...But no--" She tugged on Hogni's hair again, attempting to slowly pry him off her leg, but he wasn't budging. "Y-you're just like the rest of them...! Like..." she looked down at Hogni, silently giving her example. Her eyes widened slightly, noticing the ear piece now...but she said nothing. What was she supposed to make of that? Did her two former Executives deliberately leave her just to elope?

And Hestia allowed that?? (That had to be where they'd gone, if he was here with Bell...!)

"L...Lady F-Freya..." Hogni's voice cracked again, his cheek pressed against her thigh. His face was absolutely burning with a blush. "Please, I-I beseech you, keep searching...Bell w-was...never yours to take..."

"--This doesn't concern you!" She snapped, giving another small pull on his hair. She didn't really want to be TOO rough. She always thought Hogni's hair was pretty, just like Hedin's...

[fazcinatingblog]

Who will get there first: Pendles reaching 10,000 disposals or Todd Michael Goldstein reaching 10,000 hitouts

[circe69]

"had to get it in, couldn't wait around!" - s.r. x reader

ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ who is it? simon "ghost" riley x you

ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ what is it? enemies always fuck better, right? you hate him, or so you thought...

ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ cws: unprotected p in v, angry simon turned soft, huge d!ck, knife play kinda? ass play, heavy make out. word count: 2.4k

<3

"what the fuck was that about?"

you stomped into an empty, abandoned conference room and stood at the end of a long table, with one masked man sitting at the other end. your arms crossed themselves across your chest, and you popped a hip out to the side as you waited for his answer.

simon motherfucking riley was your arch nemesis. someone you didn't trust, never agreed with, and certainly never wanted to work with. but the world isn't fair. it keeps spinning even when you despise someone, and captain price couldn't care less about your feelings towards simon when it came to the thousands of lives you were saving every mission.

usually, if you're in a group, you don't dare speak to simon this way. you only nod your head at his commands and walk away, hoping that he's receiving the millions of telepathic "fuck you's" you put out somewhere into the universe. but now, you're alone, and there is no better time than the present to tell your lieutenant off.

"if you need to blow some steam, i suggest going for a few boxing rounds w' soap. he's always looking for-" he paused whatever ministrations he was writing on a file and looked up at you slowly, "an easy opponent."

you huff and smirk out of pure anger as you briskly round the table, making your way over to him. "I'm not here to fucking play around, lieutenant, I'm here to let you know I'm pissed because you gave everybody else an assignment overseas next month except for me." you paused and let his eyes meet yours as your strong volume turned into a whisper. "I've worked just as hard, if not fucking harder than the rest of these task force fuckers, and we both know I'd be a good shot out there."

when it comes to you giving your superior a piece of your mind, simon usually submits completely. he never fires back, to everyone else's surprise, and he always allows you to use him, so to speak, to yell at him and get everything out of your system before entering the world again.

but not today.

simon slowly stood up from his chair, keeping eye contact with you as he expanded to almost double your size in every factor possible.

the seconds felt like years as his eyes bore down into yours. your heart rate was doubling every time one of you blinked, and you had to tense every single muscle in your body just to remain stagnant in position. the silence was deafening, and as the seconds passed, you remembered everything you've seen this man do, every corpse he's thrown to the side like a piece of garbage in his way, every knife rusted and wasted because it's been buried deep in the jaw of his enemies, and the eyes that have seen all of this from the first person perspective, are staring right into your-

SLAM.

simons hand comes down onto the wooden table with the force of 10 men, it sounds like, and you couldn't do anything but jump. you flinch. you fucking flinch and it feels like you're waving a white flag.

His gloved fingers reach out to your chin and tug you by the jaw, forcing your face inches away from his, "I have fuckin' had it with your attitude. you can act like a bitch all you fucking want to price, to gaz, and I sure as fuck don't care about how you treat soap. but to me," he squeezes your chin to reinstate your obedience before drifting his hand to rest on your neck, "to me, you either respect me or don't say shit at all. so get used to swallowing your words around here from now on, cause there won't be anywhere else for them to fucking go but down your own throat."

coincidentally, you do swallow. hard and slow, and simons eyes watch and feel your neck bobbing as you begin to shake just slightly under his pressure. as he squeezes, a small squeak releases itself from your lips and you mentally kick yourself for it, knowing that's just what he wants. because once you let yourself go to the stormy waters that is simon riley, you'll never be the same again. he'll make sure of it.

"you say yes sir." his low voice whispered into the empty room, your face somewhere even closer than before, every minute that passes you move an inch. you still can't open your mouth, you're suffering from shell shock and there's no mercy to be found in the eyes of your shooter.

simon pulls out a blade from his thigh holster and presses it to your side, "say. it. now." he yells even louder. you feel the sharp sting of the metal start to break through the cotton of your shirt and tease your skin. a tear breaks free from your eyes, and you are completely gone. you're done for. absolutely dead in every sense but the physical.

"yes sir." you whisper, finally freeing yourself from some kind of paralysis. you feel the blade crash onto the table, as well as the sweet release of your neck from his hand. an extra wave of oxygen that you didn't know you were missing flowed though you in small gasps.

simon said nothing as he walked straight past you, out of the door, slamming it behind him. he left you, his knife, and a part of your soul, there in that room.

ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

it had been a few days since simon had blown any ounce of relationship between the two of you into ash and dust, and you can't tell if the looks simon gives you now are filled with rage or just empty. empty meanings, empty promises, because he just doesn't care. but ever since he's made it clear with you that he is not to be messed with, you've unfortunately want him more.

simon riley is a fucking apex predator, and in the past, you've just been standing there, petting him, taunting him, and expecting nothing to happen. well now, you not only expect it, you fucking want it. you dream about all the things he could do to you. but all the things he hasn't said just prove that he couldn't care less.

that night, the only news channel your small tv offers called for rain, a lot of it, mixed with thunderstorms and lightning. as you dry your hair off with a towel, you walk to your window and look outside. your stomach churns at the sight of the angry clouds heading your way. you absolutely despise thunderstorms, and you prefer for a long night because there is no way you would be getting any sleep.

"fuck." you whisper to yourself as it starts to drizzle.

you try to ignore it as you kick off your slippers and get under your soft covers, pulling your duvet all the way up to your ears to try to mute the sound. it was now raining harder, and occasional sparks of electricity lit up your room from the sky, so you tossed and turn all night until you finally fell asleep.

it wasn't until hours later that a large boom of thunder shook you awake. you sat up immediately in a panic, gasping for air and looking around you as if you were expecting anything, something to explain the sound. tears started rolling down your face not only in fear, but in frustration also. you were so upset and so tired. you needed something, someone. just to tell you it was going to be okay. you slipped out of bed with a shaky hand clutching a necklace around your neck as you opened the door of your room and walked out.

the cold air of the hallway caused your skin to raise up into goosebumps and your nipples to pebble through your thin tank top, and even as you crossed your arms over yourself, it wasn't enough.

you headed straight for a door right down the hall. one with a name on the wood that you never thought you would go to in need in a million years. but you didn't know what to do.

your small knuckles rapped on the door, right underneath a nameplate.

simon "ghost" riley

you hear heavy footsteps and several locks unfastening before the door swings open.

a maskless man appears, with no shirt, and a large hand rubbing the side of his face. he was no doubt asleep before this. his eyes squinted as he leaned against the doorframe, trying to adjust to the light. your jaw hung slightly agape at the sight of him, so human. so disgustingly human who's done such non-humane things.

his eyes swept over your face as he noticed the tear stained cheeks, reddened from lack of sleep and continued down your body, down your full teardrop breasts, across your bare stomach, your sweatpants that hung loosely off your hips, and no words were spoken as he grabbed you by both forearms and drug you inside his room.

you gasped as he moved you backwards towards his bed, his much larger and comfier bed, and you no longer had any reason to stop him as he drug you under the covers with him. you couldn't believe him as he snuck in close to you, silently, as if it were normal.

it wasn’t until you felt an arm come up to rest upon your hip, and the floodgates opened. you couldn’t stop tears from rolling down your eyes. you were so confused, so scared, so fucking tired. small whimpers and gasps of breath continued.

“shhh.” came from simon’s mouth as he pulled you closer and softly squeezed your hip.

“you hate me” you whispered back, sobbing louder.

“hm-mm, no.”

“yes, you fucking hate me and you’ve just pulled me into your bed,” you start whining louder as your hands reach up to cover your face.

simon’s eyes slowly opened to look into yours before swatting your ass ,”quit crying n' go to sleep.”

you only responded with smaller, shorter intakes of breath and sniffles.

“y’hear me?” he patted your ass where he had slapped it before.

you nodded and whispered, “yes sir.”

a growl tore threw simon’s mouth as he looked up at the bedroom ceiling before throwing his forearm over his eyes, “fuckin’ hell.”

this time it’s you who reaches out, as you place a small palm on his bicep. he flinches at the touch before sighing,

“c’mere puppy.”

you slowly crawl on top of simon, placing both hands on his arms before allowing your head to fall between his neck and shoulder. a warmth slithered through you as you relaxed into him, and as his hand slowly caressed and squeezed the fat of your ass, the warmth exceeded just below your navel.

you made the mistake of squirming, and he noticed.

he clicked his tongue against his teeth while pulling you closer, “stay still.”

“i-i’m trying to get comfortable-"

"well stop." he interrupted, "just relax."

the wind outside howled, as simon's breath and yours intertwined through the space between you. and just like the storms outside, simon was the most unexpected thing to ever exist. he was trying hard to not scare you off, to be gentle, even though every thing in him contradicts that. but you know better. you know that he is gentle somewhere behind that mask.

you squirmed again, "simon I just don't know what to do." you leaned up to look at him. and there it was, the look that he only gave you, the small and desperate iris' just begging for some kind of affection. even without much light, you could still see him grasping at the frays for you. seconds of intense eye contact went by for simon broke the silence,

"just kiss m'then."

you gasped, sitting back a centimeter, but then nodded. and leaned into his touch. into him.

the kiss was soft and delicate, your lips and his just barely overlapping as you took in his woodsy smell, pine and maple, but that was all it took to pull a groan from simon.

more, more, is all he thought as he grabbed you by the hips and prodded his tongue against your lips. you smiled at the action, and without hesitation, opened up for him completely.

it was nothing but violent, raw, and urgent, the way simon kissed you. you moaned into his mouth as he smacked the fat of your ass, "all it took," he mumbled, "all it took was a little tongue for you to shut the fuck up."

you whined at the loss of contact as simon struggled to pull your pants down, but it disintegrated as he swiped a finger between your thighs, "fuck." simon whispered at the wetness pooling from your sex. "how many times have I yelled at you and gotten you wet?" he said, as he flipped you both around so you were now in your back, head smushing the soft pillow.

you groaned as he discarded his sweatpants and boxers, leaving his cock to spring out against his stomach. "how many times, baby?" he asked again, "you think about me hurting you when you play with this pretty pussy?" his index reached out to circle your clit a few times.

you couldn't help it, your body was betraying you in real time as your walls fluttered around nothing. "yes, yes I think about it, I think about you all the time simon." your babbles spilled out of you like water, and simon was lapping it up.

he chuckled, "don't even n'to prep you, you're a fuckin' faucet, sweetheart." his lengthy cock, with precut oozing out of the tip, was begging to be inside you, begging to fill you up. as he grabbed his length and positioned himself to your weeping hole, he looked you in the eyes, "y'want this?"

your eyes met his and for a second, you felt some sort of fire igniting deep within you, why was he even asking? why did it feel like the monster he is was softening for you?

you grabbed his hip and thrusted yourself, notching the tip of him inside your walls. "yes, I fucking want this, simon."

he chuckled as he watched him disappear inside you, inch by inch, every fucking centimeter felt like a year lived without you. he needed to make up for it, because the one woman that he couldn't stand just happened to be the woman he couldn't live without.

[thinkinonsense]

ok so i had a thought😏😏 dbf!logan takes ur virginity and from then on u guys hook up whenever u get a chance (all the time). one night he gets done dicking u DOWN and u say u love him and he’s all like “we can’t do this anymore kid” very ANGSTYYY

i love you, i'm sorry- dbf!logan howlett x fem!reader

part two *mdni

"i love you, logan."

four little words that would send your world crumbling before your feet. the older man lifts himself from in between your chest, both of you panting post orgasm. nights like this had become a bad habit for the both of you.

from the moment logan first slipped off your panties in this exact spot a year ago, you had been wanting to tell him how you really felt. you wanted to tell him how you craved his touch when he wasn't around, how you adored the way he took care of you and most importantly, how this didn't feel 'casual' to you anymore.

seconds turned into minutes of silence, desperately waiting for logan to say something; anything.

"lo, are you going to say some-"

"we can't see each other anymore, kid." he says, avoiding eye contact with you as he pulls out.

"what?"

this wasn't real. that's the only sentence that your brain could form as you watch him put his boxers back on. you laid there on his bed, naked, vulnerable, with his cum dripping out of you and he can't even look you in your fucking eyes.

"ya' heard me." logan says, putting a cigar in his mouth and tossing your dress on the bed next to you.

"what happened?" your voice was trembling on the verge of rage and heartbreak.

"i told you a year ago not to bring that 'love shit' in here."

a year ago when he took your virginity. he promised to be gentle and to care for you. guess that didn't extend past sex for him.

you scoff, pulling your sundress over your head. "you didn't say that when you said you love how tight i fit around you or when you said you love how well i know you. was any of that even true?"

logan ignored you as he lit his cigar and waited for you to leave. you stand up and walk over to him, touching his chin and turning to so he's facing you.

"look me in the eyes when you kick me out of your bed." you spit angrily at the man you adored endlessly.

all logan could see was your eyes full of tears and your red puffy lips, trying to keep yourself together. deep down, he knew he deserved all the shit in the world thrown at him for him for breaking your heart. you would never understand why he had to be so cruel but his intentions were never to hurt you like this. it killed him.

"find someone your own age to love, kid." logan says, twisting the knife.

"don't call me kid, logan!" you yell at him. "i'm not a fucking child!"

"then stop acting like one!" his voice boomed back at you, spurring on more tears.

who had he turned into? you couldn't recognize the man in front of you. this wasn't your logan.

"so, you're just going to let me leave like this?" you cry, glaring at him. "give up everything we have all because you're afraid of me loving you?"

you didn't expect an answer, he already shoved your hand away from his face, no longer wanting the image of your broken heart haunting him.

logan wanted to tell you everything, explain why he can't accept your love because it will put you at a greater risks, but logically, logan knows he has to let you go.

"in ten years, when your ass is still sitting drunk on one of my fathers bar stools and he shows you photos of me and a man who can appreciate me for more than sex, a man who can admit he loves me back, you'll remember this moment because this will be the last time you ever fucking see me." you tell him rather calmly as you collect your shoes and purse.

logan watches you do as he asks and leave. if he was a better man, he would have done it differently; but then again, if he was a better man, he never would've fooled around with a twenty-something year old.

the front door slams with a broken sob escaping your lips. from the bedroom, logan could hear your car engine starting and that's when he could allow himself to grieve the life he would've had.

[brawberryz]

I don't want to die

Batfam × negleted Asuka langley!Reader

《Platonic》

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error/ This story has no relation to my Evangelion AU

You hate this

You hate everything, nothing is ever fair to you

You always tried your best being batgirl but still you couldn't get anyone to tell you how proud they were of you

You were good at fighting and you solved cases in hours but still it seemed like you didn't exist for your family

Your presence was a shadow between the great walls of the mansion, you didn't understand why none of your efforts to get noticed worked

But it's okay, you don't need anyone

You didn't need his approval, you're fine alone because you know very well that no one will protect you or take care of you

But at the same time you didn't want to be alone, you wanted to experience that love that Bruce gave to his other children and which you never felt

Bruce

How you hated that name, he was never a father to you and he never will be, he pretended to be the perfect and exemplary father but deep down he was as broken and rotten as you

You hated him so much, you hated your father and your mother, You hated your brothers and you hated men

Nobody understands you and comprehends you, they pretend to like you but you know that the fake

Richard, claimed to be the eldest brother and that he cared about his brothers but you knew it was a farce, he was as hypocritical and fake as the whole family

He only showed affection to the people who suited him and if you were not useful he just ignored you

You hate him so much, his mere presence makes you nauseous and disgusted

Jason, he was an idiot just like the whole family, since he had revived he was a person full of anger and revenge

In a way you understood him a little, but then you hated him

I believed that just because his life had been miserable it didn't mean that he should make life miserable for others, sometimes you wished that the joker would beat him to death with that crowbar again

Tim, you didn't hate him as much as the others but you still despised him

Since you and he arrived at the mansion You had some kind of rivalry since you two were equally intelligent and you were very competitive children

I never wanted to admit that I was wrong and at some point you were like that too, but having Bruce always put you on his side made your blood boil

Because Bruce seemed so proud of him but with you he treated you as if you were some kind of mistake

Damian, he was the second person you hated the most every time you two saw each other it seemed like you wanted to kill each other

You still remember the first time he arrived at the mansion you weren't so excited you thought he would be another idiot you would have to deal with

You were very surprised when you saw how a katana was heading towards your head, by instinct you dodged it your years as batgirl had favored you for the first time

You didn't remember that fight well, you only knew that if your father and your brothers didn't interrupt that fight you and Damian were going to end up killing each other

But there was something that stayed in your head, when they separated you Damian you and him were equally hurt by their big fight but everyone decided to pay attention to him

Everyone was so worried about him and they had only met him a few hours ago, but you

You had lived in this mansion for more than a decade and they didn't even bother to check on you

The only one who seemed worried was Alfred who carefully tended to your wounds

You could still remember the look of disappointment and anger that your father gave you after that fight

You wanted to cry at that moment and yell at him but you couldn't, you couldn't show yourself weak

It was a simple nonsense that shouldn't affect you, you were never going to show yourself vulnerable or cry again

But deep down, you would have liked to be able to cry

Barbara, you didn't hate her but you didn't like her either, you just tolerated her since at some point she was quite useful in your missions

But you weren't going to lie that at some point you felt jealous of them when she was Batgirl, you saw how Bruce treated her with so much love as if she were a daughter

How he looked at her with pride and cared for her, and you were there looking at her with hatred without knowing why she deserved that love and you didn't

It wasn't fair, she hadn't even tried hard to get Bruce to respect her and you who spent your whole life training and becoming one of the strongest and most skilled members of the batfam he didn't even turn to look at you

Cass, you tolerated her to a certain point your opinion of her was neutral

Sometimes you used to train together but you never talked, you only got together to train or on missions that Bruce asked her to accompany you

Steph, you met her when she was Robin, you got along well at the beginning but when she stopped being Robin you two separated and stopped talking for a while

When she came back she looked so different as if something had changed, you had heard that she went through a lot of things when she left like getting pregnant or something

You just kept quiet and didn't ask her so as not to make her uncomfortable

Your life wasn't the best but you learned to live like that, you got used to this life full of disappointment

Maybe you should just accept this life and wait to die, no one will remember you and the only thing people will remember will be batman's invisible daughter

You will remain as one of Bruce's many mistakes, a mistake he could never fix

_

It was another mission, it was easy you just had to deactivate some bombs that the scarecrow had placed in some buildings, you had done it many times it shouldn't be difficult

And as you sensed it was very easy, there was only one bomb left that was located in a warehouse

You were confident without paying attention to the warning of your father and oracle

You quickly went to the place where the bomb was located, you had deactivated many bombs this one should not be so difficult

But you trusted too much

Oh no

It was a trap, a fucking one

Before you could react the bomb ended up throwing the toxic fear all over the place and you didn't even have time to react

"(NAME)!"

Bruce shouted trying to get you out of there but it was too late

He could see how your body fell to the ground trembling while tears came out of your eyes

He could hear how you screamed in fear and begged for it to stop

"NO! NO PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME REMEMBER, ANYTHING BUT THAT!"

You said between screams while you grabbed your head and curled up further into yourself

Bruce was surprised to see you in that state, he had never seen you so vulnerable and scared

He knew it was the fear gas's fault but he was still surprised, not even when you were little and had come to the mansion you never showed yourself scared or vulnerable

Since you were little you always had that look full of hate and resentment

He quickly went to you to check your condition, he hugged you tightly to prevent you from hurting yourself because of your state

"(Name)!, please react!"

He said trying to make you see reason but all you did was scream in pain and agony

Whatever you were hallucinating was much worse than anything

_

Your head was full of memories of your childhood and that incident

You were supposed to forget it forever but apparently they decided to come back

...

You didn't remember your mother's face, it was a blur between your memories you only remember her tired voice

When you were little you didn't understand why she always seemed so depressed and tired, you were too young to understand the world around you

She was hardly ever home and if she was she was always lying on the couch drinking cheap alcohol

You always asked her what was wrong but she always answered "it's adult things, honey"

In those moments your little self wished you could be an adult and understand everything, to be able to help your mom with whatever she was suffering

But you couldn't, you were a little girl unaware of the world and the problems that surrounded her

You wished your mother had been more present in your life

You knew she had to work for hours and then come back tired, but still...

You still wanted her love

You saw how the other kids at school came to pick them up, how they hugged their parents happily

Hugs

Have you always wanted to know what it would feel like to have someone hug you, would it feel as warm and comfortable as many say?

You just wanted to experience that, deep down you dreamed that someone would hug you in such a quality and loving way

Then that day came, you could still remember it

You had come home from school as usual, everything seemed normal

Too normal

"Mom, I'm home!"

Screaming at you as you took off your shoes and left your backpack on the table

You found it strange that she didn't answer since she was supposed to stay home today

You walked down the small hallway of the apartment until you reached your mother's door

It was half open and you thought he was asleep, you opened it excitedly but all that joy and excitement disappeared as soon as you saw that horrible scene

"M-mom..."

You said in shock looking at her hanging body, small tears came out of your eyes as you looked at that scene completely paralyzed

You quickly reacted and went to her crying, praying to any god that existed that this wasn't real

But it was real, your mother's skin was as cold as the snow falling outside the apartment

After that it seemed that your memory decided to erase all traces of something you remembered

To a certain extent you could still feel your mother's cold skin between your hands

When you were little you didn't understand why Your mother had done that, but now

Now you understood everything...

_

You woke up in your bed, you heard the soft knock on your door

It was Alfred asking you to go have breakfast

"I'm not hungry Alfred, just leave me alone please..."

You said in a tired tone, it was the same tone your mother had

You curled up further in your bed, the old butler said something you weren't able to hear but you didn't care either

Nothing mattered anymore

So the days went by, you weren't even able to get out of your bed or eat

Even the batfam was surprised not to see you as usual to patrol

Richard decided to check on you and almost fainted when he saw your condition, your room was a mess, full of dirty clothes and other things

It was almost impossible to walk around there, your floor was full of things like books, clothes and other things that he didn't want to know what it was

But the worst was your appearance, you smelled terribly bad and your hair was greasy

He quickly forced you to take a shower, he had to push you into the bathroom since you didn't even deign to answer or get up

After Richard told the rest of the family about your sorry state something inside them turned on, like a protective instinct towards his sister

Now they had to force you to do things as mundane as bathing or eating, since apparently you weren't even capable of doing it by yourself

Each member of the batfam tried to cheer you up in their own way

Jason took you with him to the library while he told you about the new book he was reading, he thought it might be interesting for you but all you did was give him a tired look

Tim made you sit next to him while he worked on his computer, sometimes he asked you if you wanted to help him in some case but you just refused

The old you would have accepted without hesitation but the old you was no longer there

Damian and Cass made you go with them to train with them but you refused, arguing that you were too tired or didn't feel like it

So they just made you sit there while you watched them train since Bruce asked everyone to keep an eye on you

Steph and Barbara tried to cheer you up by making you spend time with them, but nothing worked

You gave them the same empty and tired look you gave everyone

Bruce decided that the best thing was to take you out of school and take you with him to work, since according to him you were in a very delicate and vulnerable state

Besides he could educate you, you didn't need any teacher when you had him, it was much better since you spent all day by his side and he could control you better

Richard tried to get you to bake a cake with him but all you did was look at him tiredly before nodding at his idea

But he still tried to make you happy while you two cooked but nothing could make you feel something

You were like a doll without emotions, you had entered a state where you couldn't even tell what was real and what wasn't

Your body was there but your conscience wasn't

But don't worry, as long as you're next to them you don't have to worry about anything

I'm thinking of updating Goodbye World My soon, there are just a few things left to edit and then I'll upload it

Leaving that aside, I hope you enjoy this!

@strwberryglass

[solardrop]

silver.

aaron hotchner x reader.

summary: hotch really doesn't think getting old is sexy. tags: fluff. a suggestive line here or there but nothing crazy. age gap (reader in their 30s, hotch is 57). jack mentioned. i think this could be read as gn!reader but i could be wrong. just short and cute. word count: 1.0k a/n: last fics rules still apply. be nice to me! when i look up photos of hair dying on pinterest i get rainbow haired e-boys so accept this haircut photo <3 divider creds to @/cafekitsune

Your name echoes across the house when Aaron yells for you from the bathroom. Once you enter the space you're greeted by his hair spiked in every which way, covered in a brownish-black goop. His thick hands are gloved and hold a small black toothbrush-like applicator.

"Sweetheart, can you check if I missed a spot?" Aaron hands you the brush and tray of inky black dye. You make a show of rolling your eyes and pouting back at him in the mirror and you take the items from him.

"I forgot it was that time of month that you decided to cover up all your sexy.." you sigh.

"Really," he scoffs, a teasing smile creeping on his lips, "I thought all the sexy was gone when I shaved.'

You almost teared up remembering the loss of his beard. A case off the grid forced him to grow one out for a few weeks. You understandably jumped his bones upon seeing the new look when he returned. The extra hair provided some out-of-this-world sensations for your softest parts that you would never forget. Only for the wicked man to shave all of it after two days, citing the "professional dress code" of the FBI as the culprit.

You snap a latex glove onto your hand, "Shush and bend over, big guy."

He smiles and kneels to face you, his rough hands gripping the fat of your thighs. You slowly worked around his head, dabbing bits of dye in bare spots. Your fingers rake through the inky black mass on his head, gently massaging his scalp. Aaron hums and thanks you under his breath.

"Do you know why I started dying my hair so consistently?"

"To torture me?"

"No," he huffs," when Jack was about... eight? I had taken him on this trip with a couple of his friends and their fathers, it was fun, but at the end of the whole thing Jack pointed at the grays starting to grow out on my hairline and turned to his friends and said-"

"Baby no...."

"'Guys look! My daddy is sooo old!'"

You clamp your lips shut to hold in your laughter. You didn't want to embarrass him further, especially with the deep red flush rising up the nape of his neck.

"Oh honey Jack was still a baby then... kids are insane you know that"

" I do, and I know. I laughed it off. I know he didn't really mean anything by it, but I didn't know if he felt like the odd one out for having an old dad.." Aaron runs his hands up and down your legs mindlessly. "And now I don't want you to feel out of place either."

You pause at that. In the few years you and Hotch have been together, never has he shown any insecurity about the difference in age between you. And he sure as hell wasn't about to start now if you had anything to do with it. You slicked his hair back with your hands and placed the clear complimentary shower cap in the box on his head, snickering at how silly he looked. Once you slide the slimy gloves off you set the timer on your phone and grasp the face of the man you loved so dearly, forcing him to rest his chin on your stomach and look into your eyes.

"You have less than thirty minutes to explain to me why you think I'd care about you looking old"

"you're young-"

"I'm in my thirties-"

"you're younger," he corrects "than me by quite a bit. All your friends have other young people to share their life and first experiences with. Meanwhile, you're stuck with a sixty-year-old-"

"You're fifty-seven-" Your eyes roll.

"a fifty-seven-year-old with a sassy kid turned angsty teenager for a child." he sighs, "Sweetheart I just don't want you to ever look at me and feel a loss."

You take a moment to scan his face. Despite the stupid shower cap mushrooming around his head, his face showed no amusement when he spoke. The sweet, shy smile he always sported around you was gone, replaced with a grimace and furrowed brow.

"Aaron I have never felt more loved, accepted, and safe than I have with you. I know you know that," you say.

He nods, pressing a quick peck to your belly button before looking at you. His eyes search yours for a moment of hesitation or change in resolve. but you stand your ground.

"The only thing I worry about with you on my arm is fighting off all the homewreckers."

He wheezes a laugh at this. Eventually having to stand up before he smears the dark dye all over you. He always does this. Laughs and acts like he wouldn't have crowds of people stop to fawn over his beauty if he let them.

"Remember that neighbor at the old apartment who would only stop by with cookies when she knew you were home?"

"Or the time Jack's classmate profiled their teacher's crush on you?"

"Don't even get me started on that detective JJ keeps telling me about from years ago in New Mexico. The male detective."

He smiles at you sheepishly, "You've made your point."

"If you want to dye your hair or shave to make yourself happy I think you should," you whisper, "but Aar I love every version of you possible"

You press your lips to his cheek before you continue, "You are the most beautiful, devastatingly sexy old man out. And I will still throw myself at you in public if you decide to finally ditch the box dye."

He smiles at you fully now, eyes shining as he looks down at you. He slides his lips against yours, grinning into the kiss before he pulls away to thank you.

"Maybe after this starts to grow out I'll see how I feel about the silver again." He looks back at his reflection in the mirror. He turns his head every which way to peek at the processing strands under the shower cap.

"Think about the beard too damn it.." you mumble. You begin to wander out of the bathroom when he yells for you again.

"Oh and sweetheart one more thing," you turn to look at him, confused when he stifles a laugh, "will you still think I'm sexy if I start balding like my father?"

[ch0llies]

ROCK ME | CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO

oneshot - sunshine!reader x goldenboy!chris

Your relationship with Chris Sturniolo is the epitome of a first teenage love. It’s late night drives with the music too loud, whispered secrets under the covers, and sneaking into each other's houses just to fall asleep wrapped up in each other. It’s the kind of love that feels like summer. It’s warm, wild, and infinite. But with him, it’s not just a season. It’s all year round.

story warnings: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), p in v, multiple rounds, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial (if you squint), fluff, established relationship, etc. If any of these topics upset you...don't read!

word count: 10k (sorry)

The wind rushes through your beach-waved hair, the summer heat warming your body as laughter bubbles past your lips. The bass from the speakers vibrates through your chest. You’re weightless, golden, and free, just like the setting sun in the sky.

Chris lighty grips the steering wheel with one hand, the other draped lazily over the console between you. His black Ray-Bans sit low on his nose, and he tilts his head slightly, peeking over the frames to catch a glimpse of you.

That signature smirk tugs at his lips- the one that got you hooked in the first place, the one that still makes your stomach flip, the one you could never say no to.

The warm glow of the sun catches on his skin, highlighting the freckles scattered across his nose. He looks so effortlessly beautiful. The kind of boy you’d write songs about. You have no idea how he’s yours.

You’re wearing nothing but an orange string bikini top and a pair of light-wash denim shorts, the fabric rough against your sunburnt skin. Chris isn’t wearing much more. Just pink swim trunks and a backward Somerville High cap, a reminder of your life beyond these summer nights.

But you don’t want to think about that.

Unbuckling your seatbelt, you shift onto your knees, climbing onto the center console. Chris barely has a second to react before you’re pushing yourself up and out through the open sunroof, arms spreading wide as the night swallows you whole.

The second your head breaches the top, you scream- loud and free, the sound ripping through the air and blending with the music. The wind hits you harder than you thought, stealing the breath from your lungs, pushing the extra skin on your face back. The sky stretches out above you, painted in deep pinks and oranges.

Chris’s laughter rumbles beneath you, but his grip is firm when he slides a hand up your waist, fingers pressing against the bare skin just above your shorts. “Be careful, baby,” he yells, his voice barely carrying over the wind, but you hear it. You feel it. The warmth of his palm spreads across your skin, grounding you even as you chase the high of the moment.

You tip your head back, hair tangling messily in the wind, letting out another breathless laugh. The music is deafening, the bass pounding through your body, but all you can focus on is the feeling- the reckless, intoxicating freedom of being here, with him, like this. In love.

Chris’s fingers trace slow circles against your side, his grip tightening as if to remind you he’s there. He’s always there. “You’re gonna get yourself killed,” he mutters, but there’s no real frustration in his voice.

You dip your head forward, glancing down at him through strands of hair, your chest rising and falling with the adrenaline still buzzing through you. “At least I’d die happy,” you tease, voice breathless, full of laughter.

Chris shakes his head, lips tugging into a smirk. “Not happening,” he says, his fingers grazing up your ribs, sending a shiver through you despite the summer heat. “I’m not done with you yet.”

The world feels endless up here, with the wind in your hair, the night sky stretching out forever. But nothing compares to the way Chris’s hands feel against your skin- warm, steady, always there.

You don’t have to look down to know he’s watching you, the way he always does. Like he can’t believe you’re real. He really should be looking at the road but you’re not even mad.

Chris is the golden boy of Somerville High. Captain of the lacrosse team, hometown hero, the kind of guy teachers brag about long after he’s left their classrooms. The guy everyone wants to be, wants to know, wants to love. He walks down the halls like he belongs to them, like Somerville itself is stitched into his skin, and maybe it is.

And you?

You’re the sunshine girl. The one who gets along with everyone, who turns strangers into friends with nothing but a smile. The girl who gets good grades without trying too hard, who sings too loud at parties, who dances barefoot in the grass just because she can. You’re golden in a different way- soft and bright, light spilling into every room you walk into.

Maybe that’s why it never made sense. Why people still don’t get it. But you do. You know how it happened.

You know it started long before anyone else had noticed. Before the stolen glances, before the late-night drives, before he whispered your name like a secret he never wanted to share.

It started in eighth grade, when he caught you skipping class to sit in the empty stands of the football field, watching the sky instead of paying attention to anything else. He sat next to you without a word, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You get lost up there too?” he’d asked, nodding toward the clouds.

You’d just smiled, something soft, something easy. “Yeah,” you’d said. “Guess I do.”

It started freshman year, when he saw you crying behind the gym after another boy on the lacrosse team that you had a crush on asked a different girl to hoco. And instead of making some dumb joke, he just sat with you. Shoulder to shoulder, silence stretching between you, solid and safe.

It started sophomore year, at some house party, when the music was too loud and the air was too thick and his eyes…God, his eyes. They were locked on you like you were the only thing worth looking at. You don’t remember who kissed who first. Maybe it was both of you, leaning in at the same time, laughter turning into something else, something breathless.

You do remember the way he groaned against your lips, the way his hands tangled in your hair like he’d been waiting for this for years. The way he lifted you, effortlessly and careless, and pressed you against the wall like he was never going to let you go.

But that was nothing compared to the first time.

Junior year. The backseat of his Jeep, parked down by the beach, the moon high in the sky. Your body still damp from the water, his skin burning hot against yours. He looked at you like he was afraid to blink, like he needed to memorize everything. The curve of your lips, the tilt of your chin, the way your breath hitched when he traced lazy circles on your hip.

“I’ve never-” you’d started, but he kissed the words right out of your mouth, slow and deep and reverent.

“I know,” he murmured, forehead resting against yours. “Me neither.”

Then he was everywhere, hands and lips and warmth and the most intimate parts of him. And you were his, in a way that felt bigger than a single night. In a way that felt like forever.

Now, here you are. The summer before senior year.

You drop back down into your seat, breathless, the rush still buzzing through your veins. Chris doesn’t let go of you, doesn’t even pretend to be annoyed. Instead, he rubs slow circles into your sunburnt skin, his thumb brushing over the edge of your bikini top, something soft in his touch.

You turn your head, watching him as he drives, golden and effortless.

“What?” he asks, side-eyeing you.

You shrug, grinning. “Just thinking about how unfair it is that you’re so pretty.”

Chris snorts, but there’s a blush creeping up his neck. “You’re one to talk, baby.”

Your life is made up of moments like this. Soft, sweet, and beautiful. All because of him.

Like the time he helped you pick your dress for junior year prom.

You’d dragged him to the boutique, standing on the fitting room pedestal while he lounged in one of the chairs, arms crossed over his chest, looking entirely out of place among the frilly pink decor.

“You know I don’t care what you wear, baby,” he’d grumbled, watching as you stepped out in another dress. “You’d look good in anything.”

“You have to care,” you insisted, spinning around so the skirt flared out. “I need honest opinions.”

Chris rolled his eyes, but there was something soft in his gaze as he studied you. Then he stood, walked over, and reached out to tug at the orange fabric, his fingers brushing your exposed back.

“This one,” he said simply, eyes locked on yours in the mirror. “Wear this one.”

And when prom night came, when you stepped out of your house and into the golden glow of the streetlights, Chris just stood there, blinking like he forgot how to breathe.

“Damn,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Baby, you’re gonna kill me.”

Or the time he came on vacation with your family.

You had spent weeks convincing your parents, listing all the reasons why bringing your boyfriend wouldn’t be an issue.

“He’s basically part of the family already,” you argued.

And maybe that was true, but you were still surprised when they agreed, letting Chris tag along to your beach house rental for a week in July.

It was like a dream. Waking up to the sound of the waves, sneaking out of the room your parents assigned Chris. And especially the mornings you’d both sneak out of the house just before sunrise, Chris pulling you into the water before the world was even awake.

“You’re insane,” you whispered, legs wrapped around his waist as the tide lapped against your skin.

Chris just grinned, his hands holding you tight, safe. “Yeah. insanely in love with you.”

And then, of course, there were the lacrosse games.

You went to every single one, always in the front row, always wearing his number on your cheek in red glitter paint.

Chris had his routine. Right before a game, right before he ran onto the field, he’d find you in the crowd. You’d blow him a kiss, and he’d pretend to catch it, pressing his fingers to his lips like it was some kind of good luck charm.

“You know I have to do that, right?” he’d told you once, breathless after a win, sweat dripping down his temples. “Superstition. Can’t play without it.”

“Uh-huh,” you teased, reaching up to push his damp hair out of his eyes. “So you winning is all me, huh?”

Chris grinned, looping his arms around your waist. “Exactly.” Then, without warning, he picked you up, spinning you in circles until you were shrieking with laughter. “You’re my good luck charm, sunshine.”

And then there was that time. The time that haunts you to this day. The time his parents walked in on you.

Chris’s bedroom. His hands in your hair, your nails digging into his shoulders, both of you breathless, caught up in each other, making far too much noise, until the door opened.

You didn’t even have time to react before MaryLou gasped, spinning on her heel so fast she nearly fell over.

“Jesus Christ, Christopher,” was all she said before slamming the door.

Chris just groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder. “We’re so dead.”

The next day, he came home to a box of condoms sitting on his bed. No note. Nothing.

He held them up when you walked in, blinking like he was still in shock. “My parents hate me. I don’t know how I can ever look my mother in the eye again.”

You burst into laughter, doubling over on his bed. “I think they just don’t want grandkids yet.”

Chris groaned, tossing the box across the room. “Unbelievable.”

You had laughed then, breathless and teasing, throwing yourself back onto his bed. But that was months ago.

Chris was still driving with one hand on the wheel, the other now resting against your thigh. His fingers trace slow, lazy patterns over your skin, dipping just beneath the frayed edges of your denim shorts. It’s an innocent touch, but your body reacts like it always does. He has completely burned himself into you.

The warmth of his palm seeps into your skin, his thumb brushing back and forth, featherlight, like he’s not even thinking about it. But you know Chris, know the way his mind works, the way his hands move with purpose, even when he pretends they don’t.

You shift slightly in your seat, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to ignore the slow fire building under his touch. Chris notices, of course he notices, and his smirk deepens, barely visible in the dimming light.

“Something wrong, baby?” he asks, voice smooth, teasing.

You roll your eyes, but it doesn’t carry much weight. Not when your pulse is hammering against your ribs, not when the song “Rock Me” playing through the speakers seems to fit too well, like fate decided to soundtrack this exact moment.

You glance at him, and God, he’s so mesmerizing. One hand gripping the wheel, muscles taut beneath sun-kissed skin, his jaw sharp in the golden light. His lips are parted slightly, tongue running over his bottom one like he’s deep in thought.

Like he’s remembering, too.

“Do you remember summer ’09? Wanna go back there every night…”

Chris exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Remember this song?”

Your heart flutters, something deep and wanting. You know what he’s thinking.

You remember that night. It was after a lacrosse game, after driving three hours to the playoff game that he scored the game winning goal in. Somehow, you ended up tangled in his backseat, hands desperate, mouths hungry.

Your voice had been breathless against his ear. “I want you to rock me, Chris.”

And he did. Again and again and again.

The memory makes heat curl in your stomach, makes your breath catch just slightly, and Chris knows. His fingers flex against your thigh, grip tightening just enough to make your skin prickle with anticipation.

You turn to face him fully, shifting so your knee brushes against the gearshift.

“You’re such a tease,” you murmur, eyes locked onto him.

Chris grins, slow and dangerous. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His hand slides just a little higher, not quite enough, but enough.

You suck in a sharp breath, and he laughs, that soft, lazy laugh that always makes your stomach flip.

The song builds, the chorus swelling, wrapping around you both.

“I want you to hit the pedal heavy metal, show me you care…”

Chris leans in slightly, voice dropping lower. “Sing it for me, baby.”

You shake your head, biting your lip to fight the smile threatening to break free. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

He just squeezes your thigh again, dragging his fingers in slow, torturous circles. “And yet, you’re still in love with me.”

And God, you are. Wildly, recklessly, endlessly in love with him.

Chris just grins, the kind that’s all mischief and golden-boy charm, the kind that makes your stomach flip even after all this time. His fingers linger on your thigh, slow and deliberate, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

You roll your eyes, pushing his hand off playfully, even though you already miss the warmth of his touch. ��Pay attention to the road before we crash, golden boy.”

He snorts, but obliges, turning his focus back ahead as the Jeep glides down the quiet summer streets. The sun has nearly disappeared now, the sky shifting from honey-gold to deep navy, the kind of night that feels endless, the kind that makes you believe you’ll never have to grow up.

Then, as if reading your mind, Chris leans back, one hand lazily resting on the wheel, the other drumming against your thigh again. “You hungry?”

Your stomach growls at the mention, making him laugh, and you groan, slumping into the seat. “Shut up.”

Chris shakes his head, reaching for the console to turn down the music. “Nah, this is why I keep you around. You’re so cute when you’re mad.”

You swat at his arm, and he catches your wrist easily, pulling your knuckles to his lips for a quick, teasing kiss.

“McDonald’s?” he suggests, voice light, like he already knows the answer.

Your eyes narrow. “You just want an excuse to get a large fry and make me feed them to you while you drive.”

Chris shrugs, smirking. “And?”

And ten minutes later, you’re sitting in the McDonald’s drive-thru, Chris rattling off the usual order—two large fries, a ten-piece McNugget, a McDouble for him, and a vanilla milkshake for you. It’s routine by now, muscle memory. You don’t even have to ask for extra napkins, because Chris already grabs them, stuffing them in the glove box where he knows you’ll need them later.

The second he pulls out of the parking lot, he’s already reaching into the bag, shoving a fry into his mouth.

“Hey, those are mine,” you scold, reaching over to smack his hand away.

Chris just laughs, shoving another one in his mouth before holding a fry up to your lips, eyebrows raised expectantly. You huff but take a bite anyway.

The drive back is comfortable in the way only summer nights can be. You hum along to the song he had playing on aux, dipping fries into your milkshake, and Chris sneaks sips of it every time you aren’t looking even though you secretly know he does it.

By the time you pull into his driveway, the house is quiet, the lights off except for the faint glow from the kitchen window. His parents are asleep and his brothers probably are too.

Chris shifts into park, then turns to you, smirking. “Wanna come in?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Like you have to ask.”

He grins, pushing open his door before jogging around to yours, yanking it open with dramatic flair. “M’lady,” he teases, offering his hand.

You roll your eyes but take it anyway, letting him pull you out before he slams the door shut as quietly as possible. You both make your way to the side of the house, where Chris knows exactly which windows creak, which steps to avoid.

By the time you sneak upstairs and get to his bedroom, Chris is already kicking off his shoes and tossing his hat onto his desk before he goes to his closet and put on a random teeshirt.

You plop onto his bed, stealing a handful of fries from the bag. “You know,” you say between bites, “your parents definitely know we do this.”

Chris flops down beside you, pressing his head into your shoulder dramatically. “Yeah, well, after the whole condom thing, I think they’ve just accepted it.”

You laugh, turning your face into his hair, inhaling the faint scent of saltwater. “You’re never getting over that, huh?”

Chris groans. “I still can’t look my mother in the eye sometimes. It’s so awkward. She definitely saw my dick.”

“She birthed and raised you. She’s already seen you naked.” You laugh.

“Yeah but that’s different!” He exclaims in a whisper, digging his head even further into your shoulder.

You laugh, before setting the food aside and turning toward him fully. He lifts his head from you and his eyes flicker to yours, and for a moment, the teasing fades. The room is dimly lit, the only glow coming from his bedside lamp, casting everything in a soft, golden hue.

He reaches out, tucking a loose strand of your tangled beachy hair behind your ear. “You tired?”

You shake your head, voice softer now. “No.”

Chris nods, thumb grazing the curve of your cheek before he leans in, pressing a slow, lazy kiss to your lips. It’s not hurried, not rushed like it so often is. It’s sweet, gentle- like he’s savoring it, savoring you.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.

“I love you so much, my beautiful girl,” he murmurs.

You smile, fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt. “I love you too, baby.”

Chris exhales softly, his breath warm against your lips, his hands never leaving your skin.

His thumb strokes gently over your cheekbone, tracing invisible patterns like he’s memorizing you all over again.

You lean in first this time, tilting your chin just enough to capture his lips again. It’s slow. So slow, like neither of you are in any rush, like you have forever to get lost in each other. His mouth moves with yours effortlessly, no desperation, no urgency. Just warmth. Just love.

Chris sighs into the kiss, pulling you closer, his hands sliding down to your waist, fingers pressing into the soft skin below your bikini.

You shift, pressing yourself closer, and he groans softly in response, deep in his throat. The sound sends a shiver down your spine, your fingers tightening around the fabric of his t-shirt.

He feels so good, smells so good, and you could stay here forever, tangled in him.

Chris tilts his head, deepening the kiss just slightly, just enough to make your breath catch. His hand spreads even further across the warm expanse of your back, his touch setting fire to your skin.

You sigh against his lips, melting into him as his other hand skims up your thigh. His fingertips brush along the frayed hem of your shorts, not pushing, just feeling, just reveling in the warmth of you.

When you pull back for air, his lips chase yours, barely letting you breathe before he’s pressing soft, lazy kisses along your jaw, down the curve of your neck.

“Chris,” you whisper, and he hums against your skin, his breath sending goosebumps down your arms.

“Hmm?” he murmurs, lips brushing the sensitive spot just below your ear.

You don’t answer, just tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging lightly, and he groans again, a sound that always makes your stomach tighten, makes your thighs squeeze around his hips.

His hands slide to your waist, gripping gently as he guides you into his lap, settling you over him like you belong there- like he’s been waiting for this, for you, all night.

You both pause, foreheads pressed together, chests rising and falling in sync.

His hands are steady on you, thumbs rubbing soft circles into your skin, and when he looks up at you, his eyes are heavy, dark with something deeper than just desire.

Love.

“I jus’ wanna take my time with you,” he murmurs, voice thick, fingers tracing along your spine. “Wanna kiss you slow. Wanna make you feel good.”

Your heart stutters, your body burning with something softer than lust, something heavier than need.

You press another kiss to his lips. Slow and deep and meaningful.

“Then do it.” you whisper against his mouth.

Chris doesn’t need to be told twice.

The moment the words leave your lips, he groans deep and low, something that rumbles through his chest and straight into your core. His hands tighten on your waist, fingers pressing into your skin as he tilts his head and devours you.

The softness melts into something new, something desperate and raw as he kisses you harder, mouth parting against yours, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip before slipping inside. It’s slow, but there’s an edge now- a hunger, a need.

His hands slide up your back, slipping beneath your bikini top, his thumbs grazing over your ribs and to the front, right over the softest parts of you. You shudder, pressing closer, gasping when he bites your lip, tugging just enough to make your stomach clench.

“Chris,” you breathe, and he hums before flipping you onto your back in one smooth motion.

His body is heavy over yours, deliciously warm, his hips pressing into you as his lips move down your jaw, down your neck, sucking and kissing until your skin is marked with his touch.

You arch into him, hands gripping at his back, before pulling at the hem of teeshirt. He gets the hint pretty quickly and rips it off before diving right back into you.

“You make me fucking crazy,” he mutters against your skin, lips ghosting over your collarbone before he’s tugging at the strings of your bikini top, undoing them with agonizing slowness.

You shiver, anticipation burning through you as his hands slide beneath the fabric, pushing it aside, palms gliding over your bare skin.

Chris exhales harshly, pulling back just enough to look at you. To really look at you. His pupils are blown, lips swollen from kissing you, his chest rising and falling like he’s trying to keep himself under control.

“Goddamn,” he breathes, shaking his head. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

You don’t get the chance to respond before his mouth is on you again, his head trailing lower, lower, leaving a path of heat down your torso.

Your back arches when his lips brush against your nipples, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging lightly.

“Chris,” you gasp, breathless, already wrecked from just his mouth, his hands, the way he touches you.

He grins against your skin, his hands gripping your hips as he presses a kiss just above the waistband of your shorts.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmurs, voice thick, grinning with mischief. “I wanna hear you say it.”

You bite your lip, hips shifting beneath him, your body begging for more, but Chris is waiting, his eyes locked onto yours, watching every reaction, every little movement you make.

So you give him what he wants.

“I want you to rock me,” you whisper.

Chris groans, dropping his forehead against your stomach for half a second, like your words just wrecked him.

Then, he looks up at you, and his expression is nothing but pure, unfiltered lust.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes. “Anything you want.”

Chris’s lips trail lower, leaving a path of heat down your stomach, his breath warm against your skin. His hands are everywhere but they’re so fucking slow and deliberate. His fingers tracing over your hips, brushing the frayed hem of your shorts. His eyes flick up to meet yours, dark and wanting.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tugging just enough to make your breath catch. “Can I take these off?” he murmurs, voice low, rough with restraint.

You nod, but it’s not enough for him.

“Need you to say it, baby.”

“Yes,” you whisper, voice barely audible, but it’s all he needs.

Chris groans softly, dragging the denim down your legs, the slow feeling of fabric moving against your heated skin making your core wetter. When he finally tosses them aside, his eyes roam over you, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip like he can’t believe you’re real.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his hands sliding up your thighs, spreading them slightly as he presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, then higher, higher.

Your fingers dig into the sheets, breath coming in uneven pants as he moves closer, his mouth leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

“Baby,” you breathe, and he hums in response, lips brushing against the last piece of fabric between you.

You lift your hips instinctively, silently begging, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “So impatient,” he teases, but his voice is thick, strained and you can tell he’s just as desperate as you.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your bikini bottoms, dragging them down with the same agonizing slowness, his lips following the path they leave behind. When they’re finally gone, when there’s nothing left between you, he just looks at you, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you open for him.

“I’ll never get tired of this,” he murmurs, completely wrecked and full of nothing but love.

A gasp rips from your throat as his mouth moves against you, soft and slow and perfect.

His tongue slides up and down your folds, separating them and pushing his face even deeper into you if possible.

His hands tighten on your hips, keeping you still as his tongue finds flicks against the most sensitive part of you, drawing a moan from your lips that makes him groan in response.

He loves this. Loves the way you tremble beneath him, the way you say his name like it’s the only thing you know.

“Chris- fuck.” Your fingers find his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan against you, the vibration sending sparks down your spine.

He takes his time, savoring every reaction, every shaky breath, every whisper of his name. It’s slow and unhurried, like he wants to memorize you, like he needs to.

His tongue moves in slow, deliberate strokes at first, teasing, tasting, savoring every inch of you. He groans into you, the vibrations shooting straight through your core, and the sound alone is almost enough to make you fall apart.

But you don’t want it to end yet. And neither does he.

His nose presses against your clit at such a delicious angle as his tongue moves in and out of you, setting a ruthless pace- the pace he knows you need, the one that drives you crazy, the one that has your thighs shaking against his shoulders.

Chris moans against you, gripping your hips harder, pulling you closer, deeper, like he can’t get enough. Like he needs you more than air.

And God, he’s so deep, his face buried between your thighs, the heat of his mouth sending sparks all through your body. You’re gasping, your fingers tugging at his hair, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t let up.

You whimper, arching against his tongue, and the cocky bastard grins against you before diving back in, licking into you like it’s his last meal.

“Chris,” you gasp, voice wrecked, breathless.

His grip on you tightens, keeping you exactly where he wants you. “Mmm?” he hums, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through your body.

You whimper again, unable to form words, unable to do anything but take what he’s giving you.

Chris pulls back just enough to look up at you, lips glistening, pupils blown. He smirks, dragging two fingers through your slick folds before slipping them inside, curling them just right, making you cry out.

“There we go,” he murmurs, watching your face twist in pleasure. “That’s what I wanna hear.”

You can barely breathe, barely think, as he starts moving his fingers in slow, deliberate strokes, his mouth returning to your clit, wrapping around it and sucking softly before licking over again and again.

Your hands fly to his hair, tugging hard, and he moans into you.

“Baby,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out.

Chris just grins against you, his tongue flicking faster, his fingers thrusting deeper.

And fuck, you’re so close but he knows your body too well. Knows exactly when to stop, exactly when to pull back, leaving you on the edge, aching for more.

You whine in protest, hips bucking up to chase his mouth, but Chris just smirks, pressing a teasing kiss to your inner thigh.

“Not yet, ma,” he murmurs, voice dark, wrecked. “I wanna take my time with you.”

Moments later he dives right back in. His tongue is everywhere, working in you with slow, teasing flicks one second and deep, dragging strokes the next. His fingers pump into you at a perfect pace, curling just right, pressing into that spongy spot that has you moaning his name like a prayer.

He loves it when you moan his name. Loves the way your body responds to him, the way your thighs twitch around his head, the way you can’t stop moving and arching into his touch, chasing his mouth, desperate for more.

Your fingers are buried in his hair, tugging, pulling, and he groans against you, pushing you further into the mattress at the same time without even thinking about it.

The vibrations shoot through your core, send a spark of electricity down your spine, and suddenly, you’re right there. Right on the edge, breath coming in broken gasps, body trembling.

Chris feels it, knows it, and he doubles down, fingers fucking into you harder, his tongue relentless, determined to push you over that final edge.

“That’s it, mama,” he murmurs, words muffled against your soaked skin. “Give it to me. Wanna hear you.”

His voice is practically a moan that’s full of pure need, and that’s what does it. His voice, his mouth, his hands- everything.

Your body seizes up, a sharp gasp ripping from your throat as the orgasm crashes over you, hard. Pleasure pulses through you in waves, your back arching off the bed, your thighs tightening around his head, but Chris doesn’t stop.

He groans as he licks you through it, his hands gripping your shaking thighs, his tongue still working you over, dragging every last bit of pleasure from your body until you’re whimpering, too sensitive, too overstimulated to take any more.

You tug at his hair, trying to pull him away, but he presses one last kiss against your soaked skin before finally, finally lifting his head.

Chris looks like he just fell from heaven. His lips are swollen, glistening, his pupils blown wide, his breath coming in ragged pants.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning as he moves up your body, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses against your stomach, your ribs, your collarbone.

When he reaches your lips, he kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You sigh against his mouth, fingers still tangled in his hair, your body boneless beneath him.

Chris chuckles, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Goddamn, baby,” he murmurs, voice thick with awe. “You’re so fucking hot when you come on my mouth.”

You let out a breathless laugh, still trying to catch your breath, and Chris just kisses you again.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his thumb brushing lazy circles against your hip.

You were still feeling the after effects of your orgasm, chest rising and falling rapidly, skin burning from his touch, his mouth, him. But as the haze of pleasure started to clear, you noticed something else, something that made heat flood your stomach all over again.

Chris was rubbing himself against the mattress.

It was subtle, but once you saw it, you couldn’t not see it. The way his hips pressed into the bed, slow and desperate, his breathing just a little too uneven, his grip on you just a little too tight. His jaw was clenched, brows furrowed, his body tense like he was trying to hold himself back.

“Chris,” you whisper, realization hitting you all at once.

Chris huffs out a breathless laugh, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, like maybe he could hide from how completely fucking gone he is for you.

“Shut up,” he mutters, voice strained, like he’s embarrassed, like he can’t help it.

You feel another rush of heat pool between your legs, because fuck, he looks so good like this. Flushed and desperate, still clothed while you’re bare beneath him, his self-control hanging by a thread.

“You get off on eating me out?” you tease, running your nails lightly down his back, feeling the way he shudders at the touch.

Chris groans, exhaling sharply through his nose. “Ma-”

Your fingers dip lower, tracing the waistband of his swim trunks, and his whole body jerks, his hips pressing down harder into the bed.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, squeezing his eyes shut, but it does nothing to hide the way he ruts into the mattress again, like he needs it.

You grin, pressing a slow kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’re so hot when you’re needy.”

Chris groans, his hands gripping your hips harder, like he’s trying to keep himself from losing it. “I’m about two seconds away from ruining these fucking shorts,” he admits, voice whinny.

You shiver at his words, your own arousal sparking all over again. “Then take them off.”

Chris swears under his breath, kissing you hard, all tongue and teeth and desperation.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, forehead pressed against yours as his fingers fumble with the waistband of his trunks. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You giggle breathlessly, helping him push them down, and the second he’s free, you feel just how much he had been holding back, how worked up he is.

And God, you want him so bad.

Chris presses his lips to your jaw, your neck, everywhere, his body hovering over yours, his hand wrapping around himself as he exhales a shuddering breath.

Then, he looks down at you, pupils blown, expression full of nothing but pure, unfiltered hunger as you wrap a hand around his girthy length.

Chris groans, deep and guttural, his forehead pressing against yours as your words sink into his skin like fire. His fingers twitch against your waist, gripping just a little harder, like he’s trying to ground himself.

“Fuck,” he breathes, voice wrecked, desperate. “Don’t do that. I’ll finish way too fast.”

You simply laugh but oblige, taking your hand off him. “You always say that but then last all goddamn night.”

He simply smiles down at you. And then he’s kissing you, messy and deep, his body pressing into yours, his hands roaming everywhere and gripping your thighs, your hips, your ribs, like he can’t get enough.

You whimper against his lips, still sensitive, still pulsing from the high he just pulled from your body, but it’s not enough. Not even close.

Chris must feel the way you shift beneath him, the way your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, because he grins against your mouth, his hips pressing down just enough to make you gasp.

“You want more, baby?” he teases, voice rough, laced with something dark and needy.

You nod, breathless, fingers digging into his shoulders.

Chris chuckles, low and knowing, his lips trailing down your jaw, sucking a bruise into the sensitive skin just below your ear.

“You’re so greedy,” he murmurs, nipping at your throat, making you shiver. “So fucking sweet.”

His hands skim down your body, fingertips dancing over your waist before settling on your hips. His touch is warm, steady, as he spreads your legs further, settling between them like he belongs there. He knows he does.

Your heart is pounding, anticipation burning through your veins as he shifts, pressing his length against you, dragging his tip through your slick folds, teasing you, making you ache.

You whimper, tilting your hips up, desperate for more, and Chris moans, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“God, baby,” he rasps, rolling his hips just right, making your head tip back against the pillows. “You’re so fucking wet for me.”

You whine, fingers clutching at his back, nails digging in just enough to make him shudder.

“Chris,” you breathe, voice wrecked, full of want.

He exhales sharply, his forehead pressing against yours again, his hips rolling into yours at a slow, torturous pace.

“I got you, mama,” he murmurs, voice softer now, full of something deeper, something more.

And then he pushes inside you, slow and steady, stretching you perfectly, filling you inch by inch, until he’s buried deep, his chest heaving, his body trembling against yours.

Your breath catches, pleasure coiling through you at the sheer feeling of him.

Chris groans, his hands gripping your hips tight, his head dropping to the crook of your neck.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters, voice muffled against your skin. “You feel so good. So tight.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, pressing your lips to his temple.

“Move,” you whisper, your voice barely a breath.

Chris lifts his head, his eyes locking onto yours. And then he rocks into you. Slow, deep, intentional.

His lips find yours again, swallowing your moans, his hands sliding under your thighs, pulling you closer, pushing in deeper, making you feel everything.

You sigh into his mouth, body melting into his, completely lost in him, in this, in everything you are together.

Chris groans, resting his forehead against yours, his breath ragged, his movements slow and torturous.

“God, I love you,” he murmurs, hips rolling faster, voice thick with emotion, with need. “So fucking much.”

You gasp, clinging to him, eyes fluttering shut, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

“I love you too,” you whisper, your voice shaking.

Chris moans at that, his pace picking up just slightly, just enough to make your toes curl, just enough to make you feel the depth of his love, his devotion, his everything.

The world outside ceases to exist but Chris doesn’t stop.

Not after you moan his name like it’s the only word you know. Not after your nails rake down his back, leaving behind marks that will be there for days. Not after he kisses you, slow and deep, like he wants to drown in you.

Not after he pulls another orgasm from you, his name spilling from your lips in a broken, desperate cry as your body clenches around him in a way that was almost painful.

If anything, it only makes him hungrier.

His lips never leave yours, even as he rides you through it, even as he groans into your mouth, hips stuttering, body trembling. But he doesn’t stop. He won’t stop.

He won’t stop until he’s given you everything.

Until the summer heat isn’t the only thing making you sweat. Until the only thing you can think about is him. The way he fills you, the way he ruins you, the way he worships you like you’re the only thing he’s ever believed in.

Chris exhales a ragged breath against your lips, slowing his thrusts just enough to make you shiver. His forehead presses against yours, his body heavy against you, but not in a way that suffocates. In a way that makes you feel safe. In a way that makes you feel like his.

“You okay, baby?” he murmurs, voice rough, wrecked.

You nod, but it’s not enough for him.

Chris pulls back slightly, searching your face, brushing a stray strand of hair from your damp forehead. “Talk to me,” he whispers.

You swallow hard, your fingers tracing down his spine, reveling in the way he shudders beneath your touch. “I want more.”

Chris groans, low and needy, like your words just broke him completely. “Fuck,” he breathes, his grip tightening on your hips. Then he flips you over.

You gasp, a surprised giggle slipping from your lips before Chris cuts it off with a kiss, pressing you into the mattress, his body covering yours. His hand slides up your spine, trailing goosebumps in its wake, before tangling in your hair, tilting your head to the side as his lips move to your neck.

“You sure you can handle another round?” he teases, dragging his teeth along your pulse point, making you whimper.

“Yes please,” you breathe.

Chris chuckles darkly against your skin, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the base of your neck before rolling his hips forward, sliding back inside you with ease.

You both moan at the feeling, the delicious stretch, the way your bodies mold together perfectly.

Chris grips your waist, holding you steady as he starts moving again, slow but deep, drawing out every sound he can.

“You feel so good, baby,” he mutters, voice husky, full of reverence. “So fucking tight and wet.”

Your head falls forward, pleasure sparking through every inch of you, your thighs trembling as Chris pounds into you, his name slipping from your lips like a mantra.

His pace picks up, hips snapping against yours, the headboard knocking softly against the wall with each thrust, the room filled with nothing but the sounds of your moans and his ragged breaths despite the fact his entire family lay sleeping behind the walls.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, pulling you up so your back is flush against his chest, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “You were made for me.”

You whimper, overwhelmed, overstimulated, but you don’t want him to stop. You never want him to stop.

Chris’s hand drifts lower, fingers slipping between your legs, rubbing tight circles against your clit, his other arm wrapping around your waist, holding you in place as he ruins you.

“One more, baby,” he murmurs, voice dripping with want. “Give me one more.”

And you do. Your body tightens around him, your head falling back onto his shoulder as another orgasm crashes through you, sending sparks down your spine, making you tremble in his arms.

Chris groans, his grip tightening as he follows, spilling into you with a deep, shuddering moan, his body stiffening, then relaxing against you.

Silence settles between you for a moment, the only sound being the heavy rise and fall of your breaths.

Then Chris laughs, his lips pressing against the side of your neck, arms still wrapped around you.

“You’re actually gonna kill me,” he mumbles, voice hoarse, spent.

You smile, turning your head slightly to catch his lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

“Guess I’ll have to bring you back to life,” you whisper against his mouth and within seconds he has you flipped on your back and has slipped inside you, cock already hard again.

His skin warm and slick with sweat. His breath is heavy against your cheek, his lips barely ghosting over your jaw as he tries to steady himself, tries to regain control.

But there’s no control here.

Not when you’re beneath him, body still trembling from the pleasure he just wrung out of you, looking at him with those wide, needy eyes, lips swollen, chest rising and falling like you need him just as badly as he needs you.

Chris groans, dropping his head into the crook of your neck, kissing your skin lazily, but keeping himself buried inside you because he can’t pull away.

“I can’t stop,” he admits, voice low, desperate. His hands grip your thighs, spreading them wider, tilting your hips up just enough to make you whimper. “I don’t want to stop.”

You tilt his chin up, forcing him to meet your gaze, your fingers tangling in his messy, sweat-damp hair.

“Then don’t,” you whisper, lips brushing against his.

And fuck, that’s all it takes.

Chris kisses you hard, stealing the breath from your lungs as he starts moving again. He sets a deep, steady rhythm, pushing into you, filling you completely, making you feel every inch of him.

Your back arches, hands clutching at his shoulders, nails raking down his back, and Chris groans, rutting into you harder, deeper.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he mutters against your lips, hands gripping your thighs, keeping them spread as he rocks into you, slow and deep, like he needs you to feel this, to know how much he wants you.

Your head tips back against the pillow, a whimper slipping from your lips, and Chris takes the opportunity to drag his tongue down your neck, sucking and kissing, leaving marks he knows you’ll complain about tomorrow.

His hands slide up your body, cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing over your sensitive peaks, making you gasp, your legs tightening around his waist.

Chris grins, pressing another kiss to your lips. “You’re so fucking sensitive, ma,” he teases, voice wrecked. “Still not over the first one, huh?”

You shake, legs trembling, body overstimulated but still aching for more.

“Chris,” you breathe, tugging him closer.

He groans, pressing his forehead to yours, moving his hips in slow, deep thrusts, dragging out every ounce of pleasure.

“Say it,” he mutters, voice dark, demanding. His hand slips between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow circles. “Tell me what you want.”

Your breath hitches, your nails digging into his arms as he keeps going, his pace slow but ruinous, building you up again, bringing you to that edge.

“More,” you gasp.

Chris smirks, but there’s nothing cocky about it this time. It’s adoration, it’s pure fucking need.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours. “Then take it, baby.”

Chris snaps his hips forward, thrusting into you harder, his fingers pressing against your clit, pushing you higher, closer, and you can feel it. You can practically taste the pleasure you were so fucking close.

“Cum for me, ma,” Chris whispers, his voice wrecked, full of love, full of you.

You cum hard, your body clenching around him, your back arching off the bed, your head falling back as you cry out, his name tumbling from your lips for what felt like the billionth time today.

Chris groans, his pace faltering, his grip on your body tightening as he watches you fall apart beneath him, as he feels you squeeze around him, pulling him deeper, dragging him with you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck- mama” he mutters, his movements growing sloppy, desperate. He thrusts into you one last time, burying himself deep before he shatters, his body trembling, his breath coming in ragged pants as he spills inside you again, pressing his forehead to yours, his lips brushing your cheek.

You both stay like that for a moment, tangled together, skin slick, hearts pounding, chests heaving.

Then, Chris chuckles breathlessly, pressing a slow, lazy kiss to your lips and pulling out.

“Round three?” he teases, smirking against your mouth.

You roll your eyes, laughing softly, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Chris doesn’t hesitate.

The second the words leave your mouth, he kisses you. Deep, slow, filthy. Like he’s already planning on making good on his round three comment. His hands slide up your sides, warm and steady, fingers brushing over your ribs before cupping your face, holding you there like you’re his entire world.

And you knew you were.

Your body still burns from everything he’s already done to you, but you want more. You need more. You can feel him pressed against you, still hard, still ready, and it sends another pulse of heat straight to your core.

Chris groans as your nails scrape down his back, his hips shifting against yours, already chasing that friction. His breath is ragged when he pulls back just slightly, his forehead pressed to yours, his pupils blown even wider, his lips swollen and wet from kissing you.

“You’re such a dirty girl,” he mutters, voice wrecked, his hands gripping your thighs, pulling you closer, pressing his length against your slick heat that’s covered in two rounds of both yours and his cum.

You grin, breathless. “And you love it.”

Chris lets out a dark chuckle, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw, down your neck, sucking another mark into your skin just because he can.

“Damn right, I do,” he murmurs, shifting above you, lining himself up, dragging the tip of his cock through your cum covered folds, making you whimper.

Your body shakes, overstimulated but aching for him again, and Chris feels it. He feels how sensitive you are, how badly you need him.

“I love fucking my cum back into you,” he groans, his voice full of something dark, something possessive. “God, and you’re still so tight.”

You whimper, tilting your hips up, and Chris chuckles, pressing a teasing kiss to your lips.

“Still so desperate, too” he murmurs. You roll your eyes, tugging him down, biting at his bottom lip, making him groan.

“Just fuck me already.”

Chris laughs, but it’s rough, strained, like he’s barely holding himself together.

“Whatever my girl wants,” he mutters but sinks into you nonetheless. It was slow and deep, stretching you all over again, making your eyes roll back and having your nails dig into his shoulders as he fills you completely.

Chris groans, his head dropping to your shoulder, his arms tightening around you.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes. “I’ll never get tired of that feeling.”

You whimper, still sensitive, still ruined from him, but you don’t want him to stop. You never want him to stop.

Chris lifts his head, tilting your chin up, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Look at me, ma,” he murmurs. “I wanna see your pretty face.”

And fuck, the way he watches you as he starts moving, the way his eyes burn into yours as his hips roll in deep, deliberate thrusts- it’s enough to destroy you.

He drags it out, keeping his pace slow, making sure you feel everything, making sure you need him as much as he needs you.

“Chris,” you gasp, legs tightening around his waist, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging him closer, and he moans, his hips stuttering just slightly.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he mutters, his lips pressing against your temple, your cheek, your jaw. “So beautiful. So fucking mine.”

You shiver, the possessiveness in his voice making another wave of heat crash over you, making your stomach tighten with pleasure.

Chris feels it, knows it, and he speeds up just slightly, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath hot against your lips.

“Gonna cum for me again, baby?” he murmurs, his fingers slipping between your bodies, finding your clit, rubbing slow, tight circles. “Gonna let me feel you?”

You nod frantically, barely able to speak, barely able to breathe, the pleasure building so fast.

“Say it,” Chris demands, voice dark, hungry. “Tell me who’s making you feel this good.”

“You,” you gasp, barely able to get the words out. “You, Chris- fuck, I-”

You shatter before you could even finish your sentence. It’s intense, your entire body shaking, pleasure ripping through you harder than it ever has, your hands clinging to him, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

Chris groans as you tighten around him with such power, his movements growing sloppy and desperate. And then he’s there too, his hips stuttering, his body tensing before he lets go, burying himself deep, moaning your name way too loudly as he spills inside you.

Chris collapses beside you, breath still ragged, body still warm and sticky from everything you just did. His arm immediately wraps around your waist, pulling you into him, like he physically can’t be apart from you yet. His nose nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his lips pressing a lazy, open-mouthed kiss to your damp skin.

For a long moment, neither of you speak, just basking in the quiet, in the aftermath, in the absolute mess you’ve made of each other.

Then Chris shifts slightly, adjusting his body when he suddenly feels it.

His lips twitch, his fingers gripping your thigh as he slowly drags them up, grazing over the sticky mess between your legs.

“Baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with amusement.

You hum sleepily against his chest, barely registering the shift in his tone. “Hmm?”

Chris grins, tilting his head slightly to glance down at you, his fingertips brushing against the inside of your thigh again, feeling the both of your cum still leaking out of you.

“You’re dripping,” he murmurs, his tone smug as hell, his fingers teasing as he lightly traces over the mess he left inside you.

Your eyes snap open, a gasp catching in your throat as you immediately squeeze your legs together, heat flooding your cheeks.

“Chris!” you shove at his chest, your voice shrill with embarrassment, but he’s grinning now, the tiredness in his eyes replaced with something cocky, something full of pure male satisfaction.

“Shit,” he mutters, dragging his fingers up your thigh again, spreading the wetness slightly just to watch you squirm. “That’s so fucking hot.”

Your face burns, and you slap at his arm, kicking at the sheets. “Chris, get something to clean it before I kill you!”

Chris just laughs, looking absolutely pleased with himself, shaking his head as he presses a slow, teasing kiss to your forehead.

“Relax, mama,” he murmurs, but he’s already moving, slipping out of bed, stretching his arms above his head before sauntering off to the bathroom completely naked, because of course he is.

You bury your face in your hands, groaning as you hear him rummaging through the cabinets. “I hate you so much.”

Chris’s laugh echoes from the bathroom. “You love me.”

You roll your eyes, still burning with embarrassment, but when he returns with a warm washcloth, his expression softens. He kneels on the bed beside you, gently running the cloth over your thighs, taking his time, making sure he’s thorough.

His fingers brush over your skin, slow and warm, and suddenly, you’re not embarrassed anymore. Suddenly, it’s just Chris. Your golden boy, your love, the boy who takes care of you even when he’s teasing the hell out of you.

When he’s done, he tosses the washcloth into the laundry bin, slipping back into bed, pulling you against his chest once more.

“Better?” he murmurs, pressing a lazy kiss to your hair.

You sigh, melting into his warmth. “Better.”

Chris chuckles. “Good. ‘Cause I’m still gonna remind you of this in the morning.”

Before you could reply, Chris inhales a panicked breath and mutters, “Shit, I’m gonna need to buy you like seven Plan B’s tomorrow.”

You snort, laughter bubbling past your lips as you roll onto your side, draping an arm over his chest. “Seven? You planning on going another few rounds in your sleep?”

Chris grins, brushing his fingers up and down your spine. “I mean, if you’re up for it…”

You swat at his chest, making him chuckle, but then your grin turns wicked, teasing. “Your mom is definitely gonna be disappointed that we didn’t use the condoms she bought for you.”

Chris groans, covering his face with his hands. “Jesus Christ, don’t remind me.”

You giggle, propping yourself up on one elbow. “She literally walked in on us once, Chris. She knows you’re not a virgin.”

Chris peeks at you from between his fingers, giving you a deadpan look. “Yeah, and I still can’t look her in the eye.”

You smirk, resting your chin on his chest. “I think she was just trying to be supportive. Making sure her son’s being safe and all.”

Chris grumbles, shaking his head. “She left them on my bed, Y/N. With no note. Just a silent here, please stop traumatizing me moment.”

You burst into laughter, curling into his side as he groans dramatically. “Aw, baby, your mom just wants what’s best for you.”

Chris scoffs. “She probably heard all that too and is currently regretting every decision she’s ever made.”

You giggle, pressing a kiss to his collarbone before whispering, “I think she’s just proud her son has stamina.”

Chris lets out a strangled noise before flipping you onto your back, pinning you beneath him, tickling your sides until you’re screeching with laughter.

“Oh, you’re funny, huh?” he teases, grinning down at you as you squirm beneath him. “You think you’re so fucking hilarious.”

“Chris- stop!” you wheeze between laughs, kicking your legs as he keeps going.

Eventually, he relents, rolling off of you with a satisfied smirk. You’re still giggling, breathless, and Chris watches you with this soft look, like he’s completely and utterly gone for you. And you know he is.

Then he sighs, stretching his arms above his head. “Alright, c’mere, baby,” he murmurs, sitting up and reaching for the hem of the t-shirt he tossed onto the floor earlier. “Let’s get you fully cleaned up.”

You hum in contentment as he helps you sit up, grabbing another rag from his nightstand and running it gently between your thighs, collecting more of your release that spilled out. The whole time, his eyes stay locked on yours, full of something deep, something warm.

When he’s done, he grabs one of his t-shirts from his drawer that was soft, oversized, and smelling exactly like him and slips it over your head, his fingers brushing over your skin as he helps you adjust it.

“There,” he murmurs, voice low, fond. “My girl in my shirt. Fucking perfect.”

You smile, curling into his chest as he tugs the covers over both of you. His arms wrap around you tightly, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against your back.

You sigh, completely melted into him, your body still humming with the remnants of everything he’s given you tonight. His skin is warm beneath your cheek, his heartbeat steady, grounding.

Chris presses a slow, lingering kiss to your hair, his fingers continuing their soft path over your spine, tracing lazy, absentminded patterns like he never wants to stop touching you.

“You okay, baby?” he murmurs against your forehead, his voice thick with exhaustion but still full of that quiet, unwavering care.

You nod, nuzzling closer, your legs tangling with his beneath the sheets. “Mhm. Perfect.”

Chris exhales softly, tucking you even closer somehow, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he loosens his grip.

“Good,” he whispers, his lips brushing over your temple. “Gotta take care of my girl.”

Your chest tightens, warmth blooming inside you at how soft he is now, how different this moment is from the desperate, hungry way he had fucked you just minutes ago.

This is what you love about Chris.

That he’s wild and reckless and cocky, but then he’s this, too. He’s gentle, protective, utterly devoted in a way that makes you feel so unbelievably safe.

Your fingers rub absentmindedly against his chest, your eyes growing heavy, exhaustion slowly pulling you under.

Chris hums, his breath slowing, his hold on you never faltering.

“Sleep, baby,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead again, soft and lingering. “I got you.”

And with that, wrapped up in his warmth, in his love, in him, you finally let sleep take you, safe in the arms of the boy who always has you and always will have you.

MASTERLIST

[confused-squishy]

Weapon Expert Danny Todd from Jason Todd's POV

This amazing idea came from @unadulteratedsoulsweets

Part 1 Part 2

Jason was starting to get worried. He had called his husband's phone a few times since his patrol started and he hasn't heard anything back. Jason knew someone had called in and asked about setting up an appointment for tonight. But Jason thought it would've been over by now.

So Jason called the phone Danny only used in the workshop. It felt like ice water had been poured on him when it went straight to voicemail. Jason quickly shoved his phone into his pocket and took off towards the current safe house he was using.

When he arrived Danny wasn't there. After looking around Jason noticed a few things were missing that Danny usually took with him to meetings. So that let Jason know Danny hadn't come back from the meeting. That made things worse. He didn't know where the meeting was or which workshop Danny would be using.

Jason took a deep breath. Trying to calm his mind. He pulled out the burn phone he uses specifically for Danny. His wonderful husband had made it for him. They both have one and it only works for them. Jason dialed the only number. His heart racing faster and faster as the dial tone continued. He swore loudly when he reached the voicemail.

Something wasn't right. Danny always answered this phone. Always. Jason turned on his coms and took another deep breath. "Oracle... I need you to look for someone. Please." There was a short silence. Before there was a clicking sound. "Who am I looking for?"

Jason took another deep breath. Trying to steel his nerves. "Danny... Daniel Jonathan Todd. He goes by Danny though. He owns a gun repair shop. Called Phantom Guns." There was a stunned silence. "Todd... As in your brother Todd or?" Jason shook his head. "Oracle please. I'll explain later."

"Jason what's your relationship?" Jason bit his tongue at the grouchy sound of Bruce's voice. "None of your business old man." Jason quickly snapped. "Jason if you want help looking for this guy we need all the information." Jason bit back a sarcastic remark. "Fine. He's my husband. Happy? Now can you please focus on finding him?"

There was a heavy silence before everyone was yelling questions all at once. Only for Oracle to snap at them to quiet down. "Jason I found something but I don't think you'll like it." "Whatever it is please. I need to find him. I don't have a good feeling." The coms were quiet before one of his phones beeped.

"There's a break in and mention of an unconscious male that is fitting the description of Danny." Jason's heart stopped before he raced off. Jumping from roof to roof. Jason could barely hear anything except his heart beat. Could someone have called Danny out and attacked him?

No. Danny can usually take care of himself. Jason had made sure of it. He knew the dangers of being with a Wayne child. Adopted or not. Especially with Jason. With what he does at night, not to mention Danny's talent with almost any gun. They both had huge targets on their backs.

Jason was snapped out of his thoughts when he saw the smoke rising into the sky. It was like the air was knocked from his lungs. He almost tripped when he landed on the closest roof but he managed to catch himself before he quickly ran to the edge.

Jason felt his heart sink at the site of one of Danny's favorite workshops looking destroyed. Jason's body moved on auto pilot. He jumped from the edge, landing on the dumpster and quickly made his way to the kicked in door. Jason went to enter before a hand gripped his shoulder.

Jason grabbed the hand to flip the person before his was pulled into a familiar chest. "Calm down. You need to think before you barge in. In case there's a trap or anything of the like." Jason involuntarily followed the order before shoving Bruce away from him. He straightened up and pulled out his favorite Glock. The one Danny had remade for him.

Jason raised the gun before turning on the heat sensor of his helmet. "I only see one body on the ground. Unconscious most likely." He switched off the heat sensor before turning on the night mode. Jason carefully entered the shop. Making sure to look where he was walking.

He froze momentarily when seeing the unconscious figure. There was a good sized puddle under him. That shirt.... That dark hair. The matching ring. "Oh my god. Danny!" Jason rushed over dropping his gun and quickly removing the helmet. He checked for a pulse. He relaxed slightly. It was weak but he had one.

Jason rolled him over and felt the air leave his lungs once more. Jason quickly ripped off his jacket and pressed it against Danny's stomach. "Call an ambulance! He's-His-" Jason sniffed. Feeling tears fill his eyes. He flinched when a rough hand gripped his shoulder. Jason looked up, meeting Bruce's determined look and hesitated before moving slightly.

Bruce bent down. Carefully removing Jason's jacket to see the wound. There were multiple deep gashes and what looked to be an electric burn from his left chest to his left shoulder. Bruce clicked his com. "I need an ambulance. There's multiple deep gashes to his front along with what looks like an electric burn from the left of his chest to his shoulders."

Bruce felt for a pulse. "Pulse is weak. Barely there." Bruce leaned forward. Listening for breathing. "Shallow breathing." Jason gripped the jacket more. How long has Danny been like this? Why hadn't he looked for him sooner?! Jason hadn't noticed his panicked breathing until he was nudged.

Dick was behind him with a sad smile. Dick gently grabbed him and helped him stand. Bruce had laid Danny out and used Jason's jacket to keep the bleeding to a minimum. Jason felt numb as Dick had start pulling him away as sirens sounded. Jason went to shove away dick but was interrupted by Bruce.

"Go home and change. I'll tell you what hospital. But right now you're covered in blood and your Red Hood uniform. I need you to go change before meeting at the hospital okay?" Jason barely nodded. His eyes not leaving Danny's pale face as Dick pulls him away. Once outside Dick pulls Jason to a car and gently helps him inside.

The drive to Jason's closest safe house was quick and silent. Neither saying anything before Jason rushed inside to quickly change so he can get to the hospital. But as he undressed all Jason saw was blood. Danny's blood. Jason shook his head and physically threw the clothes off himself.

He was going to be burning those clothes. He couldn't stand looking at them. He ran into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Turning it to the hottest setting. He didn't care if his skin was burning. He needed to get the blood off. He needed it gone. He needed Danny's blood off him. He needed Danny to be okay. He needed his husband to be alive and safe.

Jason closed his eyes as the scolding water ran down his back. Danny's pale face appeared before Jason's eyes and he shook his head before quickly scrubbing himself and jumping out of the shower. He barely dried himself before rushing into the room.

He looked at where the pile of bloodied clothes laid and felt a small sense of relief when he noticed they were gone and clothes were laid out on the bed. Dick must've taken care of the clothes. Jason would have to thank him later when he.... When he knew his husband was okay. Jason doesn't know how he got from the safe house to the hospital.

He only knows that everything seems to be too loud and bright for his senses at the moment. When he finally sat down he was in a plastic chair used in hospital waiting rooms. He looked around. Dick was with him out of his Nightwing uniform. He was standing a short distance away on the phone. Either with Bruce or Kori. Letting them know the situation.

Jason took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. Just who had set up that Meeting with Danny? Danny always does a background check when someone wants to make an appointment with him. Had someone given a rogue Danny's meeting information? Jason's hands tightened in his hair. Whoever did this to his husband is going to pay. Big Time.

Jason flinched slightly as a hand patted his back. Dick had came back with a slight smile. He must've been talking to Kori then. "Have you heard anything?" Dick shook his head and Jason groaned softly. Dick's smile tightened before he removed Jason's hands from his hair. "I'm sure we'll get some information soon Jay. Just don't pull your hair out before we do okay?"

Jason didn't say anything. Just kept his eyes sweeping across the room. It felt like forever when a Doctor looking unsure. Jason jumped up as the Doctor came over. "Mr. Graysan. Mr. Todd." The Doctor nodded at them. Before he could say anything Jason already was asking questions. "Is Danny okay? Did he make it? Can I see him?!"

Dick carefully pulled Jason out of the Doctors face. Ignoring the thankful look Dick nodded. "Please answer him. He's not doing the best as you can see." The Doctor sent Jason a look of pity and Jason felt his body freeze. Please don't tell him...... "Mr. Daniel Todd came in with multiple deep gashes, broken bones, and a severe electrical burn mark. There were a few.... problems during surgery but we got the patient stable and in a room."

Jason released and sigh of relief. "That great can I see him??" The Doctor shifted and sent him a hesitate look. "You can... But I have to inform you of his condition..." Jason froze. "C-Condition?" The Doctor nodded with a frown. "Due to the head trauma and blood loss I'm afraid Mr. Daniel Todd has fallen into a coma..."

Jason felt his legs give out. If not for Dick he's sure he would've fallen to the floor. Oh Danny.... His poor Danny. If only he'd have looked for him sooner...maybe he wouldn't have been in such a bad condition. Jason heard only ringing as he was brought into Danny's hospital room. Jason sunk into the chair closest to the bed and gripped his husband's hand.

Please..... Please wake up soon.

[808airsoftbros]

My Scary Noona (Kim Gaeul) (BXG) (S)

Author: A requested oneshot by an anonymous user, if you are reading this I hope you enjoy it, and if you all want to see more of my stories check out my Masterlist.

Y/N's POV

"I swear to God Yujin and Wonyoung, your guy's room is always a mess!"

Hearing my Noona, Gaeul once again yelling at her members for having a messy room and Yujin and Wonyoung pouted trying to act cute to get out of their predicament.

But if I know Gaeul no tricks are going to work on her as she's the oldest and made them clean up. Of course, Yujin and Wonyoung reluctantly did so as we all knew not to mess with her.

Even if Gaeul isn't the leader of IVE, she is still someone you don't want to cross with and she'll make your life a living hell.

Meanwhile, I was in my room playing Helldivers 2, wearing noise-canceling headphones, I didn't hear much of the commotion outside until I smelled that same autumn perfume that Gaeul always wears.

The scent was strong like it was being held right at my nose and when I turned around I saw Gaeul right behind my chair and I gulped.

"Y-Yes, Noona...?" I gulped.

"You, you and I are going on a date, you're not busy right..?" Gaeul asked and I shook my head.

"No... Well maybe..." I chuckled nervously and she rolled her eyes.

"And what exactly is keeping you busy today? Sitting your lazy ass playing video games?" She sarcastically asked.

Without saying anymore, Gaeul tossed me clothes for me to wear, and ordered me to get dressed and meet her outside. I sighed seeing that my video game sessions ended so soon.

After I finished changing into the clothes that Gaeul gave me which was a pair of Addidas sweatpants and jacket, I wear a Vans black shirt and all complimented by Addidas shoes.

Coming out of my room, Gaeul gave me a small grin before taking my arm leading me out of the dorm.

"Will be out all-day girls, you all better not make a mess!" Gaeul announced and the girls nodded.

"Of course, Unnie... You won't have to worry about a thing..." Yujin casually says while on her phone.

"You better keep your word," Gaeul warned and we left the dorm.

Walking hand in hand out of the dorm into the cool autumn breeze, Gaeul took a deep breath and sighed relaxing herself after constantly yelling bossing around her members all-day.

"Noona, do you always have to be this strict?" I curiously asked and she huffed.

"Well, someone has to keep things in order, and besides you know how chaotic those girls can get right?" Gaeul pointed out and sighed knowing she was right.

"Yeah, I cannot lie, they do get crazy sometimes... Even for my own liking," I answered and she grinned.

"Aren't you lucky you have a girlfriend like me to handle them~? Otherwise, you'd go mad," She cheekily said and I chuckled.

Afterward, Gaeul walked me into her favorite ramen shop, the waiter guided us to our table and left us alone to decide what to eat on the menu.

Gaeul took her time looking over the specials and then at me with a small warm smile the same look when she knows exactly what I'm going to get. Though I do sometimes doubt that...

"Let me guess... The shoyu ramen?" Gaeul guessed and I was baffled at how she knew what I was getting and once again proving me wrong.

"How do you always know, Noona...?" I asked confused and she giggled.

"Because you always get the same thing every time, it doesn't take a detective to figure that out don't you think? Perhaps try something new for a change," She suggested and I sighed.

Gaeul knew I was quite a picky eater, it's always been like that since childhood which gave my family a headache trying to get me to try foods that I may or may not like.

Although I always hesitated food from my parents, Gaeul is the opposite case not because she's scary or threatens to shove it down my throat but because I was less reluctant and open because of her warm and caring personality.

Unlike others who only saw me as a failure, weak, and stupid because of my health and mental disorder, Gaeul was the only friend I have who truly saw me as who I am and accepted me nonetheless.

Sure Gaeul may scold me from time to time but I eventually learned that it was for my own good and I have a lot more to learn about relationships even if we've been together for a few years now.

"Well, well, I can't believe my eyes... It's the weird kid..." I heard a familiar voice I hope to never hear again.

Looking up I sighed to see Jackson and his gang walking up towards us, they're all idols like Gaeul, and she too was surprised to see them.

"Jackson? What are you doing here?" Gaeul asked raising an eyebrow.

"Darling, why else would we be here? We came to grab some food is all. What are you doing with him?" He asked and Gaeul rolled her eyes.

"Jackson, this is my boyfriend Kim Y/N, we were on a date and we would appreciate if you didn't interrupt our quality time together," Gaeul answered and he seemed surprised before laughing his ass off.

"Boyfriend? Are you serious? You're a famous idol like us and this guy is who you choose? I mean come on you're better off dating some rookie guy from a shitty company instead of him, don't you think?" Jackson asked with a hint of mockery and I looked down not daring to look at him.

Gaeul on the other hand was furious about his words and immediately stood up before him almost as if she was ready to fight him as her fists was closed tightly.

"Take. That. Back." Gaeul warned coldly glaring at him but Jackson only sneered.

"Or else what? He's worth nothing and you are stooping so low dating him," Jackson replied and Gaeul scoffed.

"Oh please, that's quite rich, you always think you're so high and mighty because you walk over people to get on top, you always exploit, bully, and extort everyone to make yourself feel like the king of the world, but no, it's pathetic. Just admit it, Jackson, you're nothing but a goddamn coward," Gaeul coldly spoke to his face and he was livid.

"You fucking bitch! You dare speak to me like that to your senior?! Did you ever learn respect for people like us?!" Jackson angrily asked gripping Gaeul's collar tightly shooting her a deathly glare but she wasn't fazed one bit.

"Oh, I do... But you're not worthy of my respect unless you apologize to my boyfriend and recognize putting down others only makes you a weaker man," Gaeul retorted and Jackson lost it.

Jackson's anger took over him as he raised his fist to deliver a punching blow but he froze a painful sensation was felt in his groin from Gaeul kicking his balls causing him to let go of her collar as he groaned in pain.

Gaeul didn't even give him time to react, she grabbed his shoulders before delivering a cross punch to his jaw knocking him on the floor.

"Get up," Gaeul sternly demanded.

Jackson limply got back on his feet but it wasn't for long as Gaeul delivered a heavy front kick to his face knocking him down and she scoffed almost pitying how weak he was.

"Get up," Gaeul demanded once more.

Jackson's friend stood back not daring to intervene, Jackson tried to get up but it was harder as his body was sore and devastated from Gaeul's punches and kicks to his face and groin. Again without warning Gaeul slapped so hard that everyone in the restaurant heard it and he crashed into the wall and fell down groaning in pain.

"Not so fun when you're the one that's helpess, isn't it?" Gaeul asked sternly.

"Y-Your fucking insane..." Jackson weakly said and catches his breath.

"Well, that's what happens when you mess with one's boyfriend, I'll let you go but mess with my boyfriend again and I won't be so merciful and I'll do everything in my power to ensure you suffer for all of eternity, got it?" Gaeul warned and Jackson looked down in defeat.

"I understand..." He weakly groaned.

"Good, now you roaches get out of my sight!" Gaeul ordered pointing at the door and the boy quickly ran out of the restaurant.

Letting out a huff trying to calm herself down, she walked back to the table and sat down in front of me as the waiter comes back to take our orders.

I ordered my usual while Gaeul ordered the special spicy beef ramen, the waiter writes it down and leaves us for now. Shortly after, the waiters returned with our ramen orders.

Trying the new shoyu ramen recipe was absolutely immaculate despite the major change proving that not all changes in my picky habits are necessarily a bad thing to occur.

After we finished eating, we head back to the dorm to see the girls mostly asleep with Leeseo hugging Rei and Wonyoung and Yujin cuddling one another.

"Aww~. How adorable is that darling? But you know that means... right?" She whispered into my ear sending shivers down my spine knowing exactly what she means.

"Are you sure, Noona?" I nervously asked keeping my voice down to not disrupt their slumber.

"Do you know how long I've been craving you~? I haven't gotten your juicy cock inside of me for weeks... And I want it now," She seductively purred.

Without wasting time, Gaeul dragged me into my room closing the door before locking it, she shoved me into the bed and crawled towards me like a hungry tigress about to devour her prey.

The look in her eyes would make any man shit his pants as there was no escape for me as Gaeul cornered me on all sides as she pinned me down with her strong grip.

"Hmm... Where to start first~? So many ways~," She wondered as she licked her lips thinking of all the unholy things to do with me.

Taking some time to ponder on her first move, she smirked before going to my ear, her lips just inches from my neck as she nippled my earlobe a bit sending jolts of excitement and nervousness.

"Why don't you be a dear and take off my clothes~," She whispered and I nodded.

Sitting up I reached my hands on the straps of her dress pulling them aside and slowly pushing it down revealing her black laced bra and panties barely covering her assets.

"You like what you see don't you~? My body is just perfect for you baby~," She said in a husky tone and she bit her lip as she began working on my pants to free my erection.

Gaeul slides my pants off along with my boxers revealing my 9 inch dick making her lick her lips and biting it as this size was more than perfect for her.

"God, the words cannot describe how much I miss having your cock inside of me..." She muttered as she went down taking my length into my mouth.

Feeling her warm mouth and tongue swirling on my cock felt so amazing as always, Gaeul always knew all the buttons to push on me, and in turn, I'd pound the shit out of her.

Gaeul began bobbing her head faster and faster making me moan as I grab her hair as she began deepthroating me and soon enough I was reaching my limit but she wasn't stopping.

"Fuck... Noona I'm going to cum..." I warned and Gaeul took my cock out of her mouth before opening it wide sticking her tongue out as she used her hand to finish me off.

Almost instantly, I shot my line of cum onto her face most of it ending up on her tongue and she purred as she licked the cum off her lips and fingers.

"Mmm~. Thank you for the meal baby but now it's your turn~," She spoke in a commanding tone as she gestured me to take off her undergarments.

Obeying her commands like a good boy, I unclip her bra revealing her perky and luscious boobs, and slid off her panties revealing her perfect shaved womanhood.

Diving into her pussy I began eating her out making her moan my name as she wrapped her thighs around my head pushing herself onto my face more.

"Fuck baby~. Such a good fucking boy eating mommy out~! Keep this up and Mommy will treat you~," Gaeul wickedly grinned as she kept moaning as I eat her out.

Inserting my tongue inside of her not getting enough of her tasty juices she moaned louder as I began hitting her g-spot with my tongue and I feel her walls tightening.

"Shit baby~! I'm going cum and you better not waste a single drop..." She warned and she squirted all in my mouth despite her strong thighs tightly wrapped around my skull.

When Gaeul unwrapped her thighs she opened my mouth making sure I swallowed every drop of her juices and she smiled wickedly.

"Good boy, you didn't waste a drop and mommy is very proud of you~. Now it's time for your treat~," She praised.

She went on all fours displaying her firm and rounded ass to me and her glistening pussy and teasingly twerks inviting me to take her.

I didn't waste any time getting up aligning my cock to her pussy and slamming inside making her yelp as she didn't expect me to enter so abruptly but she didn't seem not to like it one bit but rather the opposite.

"Shit baby! You want me so badly don't you~?" She teasingly asked and without hesitation, I began fiercely pounding her pussy giving her my answer.

Gaeul moaned loudly as she gripped the sheets of the bed tightly as I rammed her like an angry bull and took out all my sexual desires and love on her.

The tightness of her pussy of my cock and the feeling was heavenly and I went all out to ensure Gaeul is pleased and happy with me.

"Fuck! Fuck! Just like that!" She screamed as I began hitting her g-spot with my cock nearly penetrating her.

Picking up the pace, I grabbed her ass as support as I pounded her faster and deeper making Gaeul nearly scream in ecstasy and slightly worry if I was going to finish too fast.

But I managed to hold my ground as I knew this was all out of love and our desires of one another, Gaeul was the only woman I'd ever want to share this rough lovemaking with.

Time was lost in our minds and before we knew it, we were both getting to our edge.

"I'm so close baby~!" Gaeul yelped.

"Me too... I don't know if I can hold it much longer!" I replied as I continued pounding her.

"Do it! Don't hold back! Let's do it together!" She demanded and I came deep inside of her as Gaeul squirted all over my cock.

After the massive orgasm we collapse onto the bed exhausted and sweaty from our passionate lovemaking. Gaeul gave a weak smile as she was catching her breath.

"That was amazing, baby... Better than I can imagine..." She whispered as she caressed my cheek.

"Y-Yeah, it was because of you... I'm the luckiest man to ever be with you," I replied as I hugged her pressing my face against her boobs and she giggled.

"No, honey, I'm the one who is lucky to have such a cute boyfriend and I can never ask for a better partner," She replied and sighed contently as she began playing with the strands of my hair.

"I love you, Noona..."

"I love you too, baby..."

[darlingdreadwrites]

I read your Toby fics, and I really love your writing:D

I see your open with requests and I wanted to ask a Toby x final girl reader?

They just kept fighting against him, and he somehow gained a crush on the person he is supposed to kill? It's fine if you don't ;D

I WAS SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS I SQUEALED WHEN I READ IT!! i hope i do right by you, my lovely anon.

pairing: Ticci Toby x Final Girl F!Reader

part: 1, 2

summary: Toby thought you'd be an easy target since you were just a girl. He should've gone with the easy kill when he had the chance.

contains: getting chased by a man wielding two hatchets, slight pov switches but it's still in second person, idk what else to put

warning: violence, gore (more like imagery is gore-y), MEAN TOBY, reader gets hurt, toby gets hurt, me not knowing how to write fight/tense scenes and the logistics that go with them, barely any talking cuz i think toby would be too embarrassed by his stutter

word count: 1.6k

masterlist

a.n: when i read final girl in the request, i pictured reader wearing those outfits that female japanese horror game protags wear (picture fatal frame). i’m gonna keep the end ambiguous for you because my freak brain wants it all to work out perfectly for them, but the other part of my brain wants to keep it realistic cuz there’s no way in HELL i’d let someone forcing me to run live. if you want me to continue where i left off i’d be so glad to (and you can pick whichever type of “route” you want). ENJOY!!

The cool, night air gave you chills all over as your feet pounded against the soft forest floor under your feet. With every quick step you took, another short burst of breath escaped your lips. It felt like you were being pushed back by a sudden gust of wind, but the trees continued to look blurry in the corners in your eyes, and that was a good thing. You kept your pace – even if it felt like the breeze kept poking needles into the cuts on your skin.

You had decided to actually dress up today but stayed mindful enough for the fall weather. So, you weren’t exactly dressed for the occasion. Maybe next time you decide you want to get attacked by some psycho swinging hatchets; you’ll be a little more fucking prepared. 

The whistling of said hatchet reminds you of why you were running. The sound of his weapon whirred by as it lodges itself deep into the bark of a tree. It’s already behind you as your mind yelled at your body to keep up. His other hatchet thwacks into a tree too close to your head and you scream involuntarily. You stumble to a stop stupidly, stabilize yourself, and drag your body to pivot and sprint to the right.

You weren’t sure how long you could keep going. But - as much as your lungs burned - that buzz that came from fighting for your life nagged at you like a bitch. You don’t care how much your body hurts because you will deal with the consequences later.

You’re not going to let yourself die.

Toby grunted as frustration and anger seethed in his veins. Wrapping his hands around the handle of his hatchet, he kept his eyes trained on you as he struggled to pull the thing free. He’d all but forgotten that the other one was a few feet away. He wasn’t normally fond of losing his favorite toys. He wouldn’t lose you either.

You were a stupid, stupid girl, after all.

His head violently twitched to the side compulsorily when he finally dislodged his weapon. A few wood chips flew out and landed on the muddy leaves below. He stood there, taking and letting out deep breaths.

He thinks about what might be going through your mind as you keep running. Maybe about how you were gonna get out of here, call the pigs, and have some nurse tend to the wounds he gave you. He smiled and tightened his grip on his hatchet as he fantasized about your naïve hope. He knew these woods like the back of his hand.

You wouldn’t make it out of here in one piece.

You slow down as the structure of a house comes into view. It fits the eerie atmosphere perfectly – chipping paint, broken windows. You’re not here to admire the neglected building, though, and you stomp up the small steps. The door lets out a low groan as you practically shove it open using your shoulder.

Slamming it behind you, your head whips around for the exit or some type of weapon. In the distance, you can hear the shrill whistle of the man outside, an involuntary thing, you’ve noticed. Just how long have you been fighting this freak? Enough to learn his quirks, that’s for sure. 

Delving deeper into the house with hurried steps, you look around for a kitchen. Find a weapon, find a weapon, you repeat to yourself, the sound of your quick gasps filling your ears. You catch yourself on the doorway when you almost rush past it.  

You barely stepped foot into the room before crying out when you felt something make impact with your back. The dull, heavy pressure sends painful shockwaves through you. Having the wind knocked out of you, the muscles in your back spasm and you buckle forward. He shoves you, and you wheeze as the edge of the rusted stove in front of you digs painfully into your stomach.

Your eyes immediately land on a cast iron skillet, and you think you have less than three seconds. You smash the pan against the side of his head, your grunt and the metal clang the only sounds in the room. You were confused as to why he wasn’t yelling out in pain. But your arms jerked upward, the heavy iron bludgeoning into his chin and he stumbles back.

Toby can hear the ringing in his ears with each blow to his head, his world spinning for far too long than he would’ve liked. He snarls and grabs your arm, throwing you in the direction of a wall hard - causing you to drop your makeshift weapon.

He looks at you, at how your legs shake as you try to steady the world around you. Look at you - you looked like a fawn. With your wide eyes and trembling form. Guess he’ll be your coyote, right? He’d sink his teeth into the side of your neck and stain his maw with your crimson flood. You were just pretty enough that he couldn’t wait to watch your eyes roll back when he greedily kept the air from inflating your lungs.

No, but you weren’t a fawn, were you? He’d seen more fight in you than any of the losers he was tasked to kill. They sobbed – they fucking begged on their hands and knees – to keep him from tearing them limb by limb. You were stronger than he thought you’d be, but you weren’t as agile as he was, he thought.

His face stretched as another wide, sinister grin spread across his face. His gloved hand tightened around the hatchet’s handle. He could hear the leather creak if he focused on anything other than your breathing.

You duck and stumble out of the way as you hear the spitting of wood above your head. He yells out a loud “fuck!” and attempts to yank the weapon free. You run out of the room and almost collide with another wall. You pivot on your heel because there was no way you’d run away from the front--

Gasping, you caught your balance before you could fall through the gaping hole on the floor. No time to jump, you told yourself, and you spun once again. Sprinting down the hall, you were met with the door to a room rather than any kind of exit.

You’d remember to set this house on fire when you made it out alive.

The room stunk of decaying carcasses and a thick powdery smell – the former outperforming the latter. You make your way to a second door and find yourself in a bathroom. You think there’s nothing here heavy enough to hurt him until your eyes land on a towel rod that hung loosely from the wall.

With a determined tug it comes out and you know he heard it. You can tell by the way you hear his heavy boots scramble in the direction of the room. You take a deep gulp of air and press your back against the wall next to the door.

The air was heavy with tension as the door creaked open. His shadowy figure stretched on the floor, and he walked right in. Would he turn around? Would he sense where you were before it was too late?

While he twisted around, you slam the rod into the side of his head. He’s disoriented for a moment, his head rolling to the side. Before he could react, you lifted your right leg, and the bottom of your shoe made contact with his stomach – sending him hurtling back.

Toby lets out a groan as he loses his balance and falls into a tub. His limbs sprawl out, legs and arms dangling from the sides. He attempts to move when a raw, guttural scream that causes his chest to tighten makes him stop. His eyes dilate as he stares at you wildly. Something about your scream has shaken him to his core. His head was still dizzy and a little numb from the force of your hit. And yet he couldn’t help but admire your resilience. He should be livid – breaking all your fingers and pulling your pretty little teeth out of your mouth one by one.

The man’s tics overtook him, his eyelids squeezed shut with a sudden intensity. He opens them again, and you’re still rooted in the same spot – breathing heavily. He’d never seen a girl look as hot as you did right now. He didn’t think that was even possible in your state. Your clothes, hair, and face were caked in mud and blood from your gashes. A girl like you should’ve been screaming in pain and crying for her mommy. But you stared at him with a burning defiance that caused his heart to pound violently against his chest.

His hatchet lay at your feet, and he realized that you had gotten him. You won. He could try attacking you again – he was bigger than you – but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He can’t fight back anymore; he just stares in what he can only assume is awe. Years of taking lives and witnessing more gore than anyone ever should, could not have prepared him for this moment. You didn’t stop – you just couldn’t. It was… admirable. Beautiful, even, if he was a more sentimental person.

You piqued his curiosity like nobody had ever done before. He wanted to know what made you tick. He wanted to study every movement, sound, and judgement you’d ever make. You could break all the bones in his body, and he’d come running back to watch you do it again when the Operator put him together again.

You astonished him.

So, what’ll you do now?

[starboye]

Kinktober Day 2

starring: rafe cameron x male reader

request: Rafe Cameron disciplining male reader because you were acting all bratty at one of his parties

warnings: smut, fingering, thigh riding, cursing, mentions of drugs, spanking, ass slapping, orgasm denial

authors note: im truly sorry if this story was horrible, i was tired and it was late so you can hate or skip this story if you want to. my apologies

it wasn't your fault you were being so bratty, i mean rafe wasn't paying attentions to you, to busy partying and doing drugs to even notice you, so when rafe saw you acting all stingy he tried to get you to do some drugs with him to but when you shook his hand away from you making him drop the substance on the ground "what the fuck y/n what's your problem" rafe yells looking at you with agitated by you ruining the mood.

"nothing" you blankly say folding your arms across your chest "well it must be somethin' if your knockin' my stuff to the floor and acting all cold" he retorts angrily "whatever rafe how about you go back to getting high" you clap back before getting up and walking to rafes room, him watching you as you walked up the stairs "everybody out" rafe mutters catching the attention of topper "what, why" topper questions "just everyone get the fuck out" rafe yells to the whole party goers.

the music going quiet and everyone making their way to the door, muttering about how lame it was that it was cancelled making rafes jaw tense up knowing that you ruined the vibe of it all, and rafe couldn't go the rest of the night knowing you were mad at him, not because he really cared but because it would ruin his mind trying to figure out what had your panties in a bunch.

once everyone was out of the house rafe stomped to his room where you layed in his bed on your phone "what the fuck was that little stunt you pulled" rafe angrily asks and you give a little scoff to his question "don't making me fucking come over there y/n or so god help me" rafe warns one more time but you still don't answer him, still to mad at him for not paying attention to you the whole night "m'kay don't say i didn't warn you" rafe pinches the bridge of his nose before he drags you toward him and sits you on his lap, your legs straddled across his legs quickly and forcefully.

rafe looks up at you with dark lidded eyes, him still having the buzz of the drugs in his system enough to not care about you questions of what he was doing "since you wanna ruin my night with being bitchy i'm gonna ruin your night to" he whispers in your ear while groping at your ass "now strip f'me" he orders and you reluctantly slowly peel off all your clothes in front of him like a good boy but rafe doesn't follow suit, he stays in his clothes he was wearing since the party began, making you even more embarrassed that you were the only vulnerable one here.

and it only worsened when you saw rafe pull his phone out and prop it up next to him with a full view of you now back on his lap "now ride my leg" rafe demands and when you hesitate rafe lands a hard smack to your ass, jolting you forward to grind your already leaky cock against his roughly padded khaki pants like the slut you were deep down and rafe let you know that with his demeaning words he whispered as you needily grinded on him "that's right good fuckin' slut" rafe laughs at you, some tears dropping from your eyes.

"oh no no no don't cry you brought this onto yourself" rafe coos with a sweet voice but ruder words while cupping your face and you were so close to cumming that you were letting out whimpers and whines "can i cum rafe... please i'll be so good for you" you beg dropping your head on his shoulder "you cum on these pants and ill fuck you till you cant breath" rafe threatens coldy sending shivers down your back "and plus i still have to teach you a long hard lesson" rafe adds.

he sinks his fingers into your mouth while slapping and grabbing your ass with the other, adding to the painful amount of pleasure you were getting even more, your movements becoming jitters across his leg to hold back from cumming, you looked like a desperate puppy at this point, begging for it's owner to love them while slobbering all over rafes fingers, he was getting harder by the second but this wasn't about him it was about teaching you a lesson, a very painful lesson.

he pulled his fingers from your mouth and brought them to your hole, slowly sinking them in as you moan his name out "mm mm keep grinding" he says now thrusting his fingers in and out of you ruthlessly while his other hand slaps your ass over and over, overstimulating you to the point of you just letting out whines and whimpers for him to let you cum but he doesn't budge, just continues fucking you with his fingers.

once he finally got his fill of your sweet needy noises he gave you the okay to let you cum, you looking up at him with tear soaked eyes with your hands gripping his shirt tightly "really" you ask brokenly "yeah go ahead" he coos and you spray your load all over his shirt, angering him a little bit but you've tuckered yourself out to much by now so he lets it pass and you fall onto the bed shivering and shaking.

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune@fuckshft

[themultifanshipper]

Max stormed through the halls of the ER, fuming at the stupidity of his teammate.

He was going to fucking kill Checo.

Warnings: driver!reader, smut, PinV sex, injury, mention of strong ass medication, public sex?, sex in a hospital bed what more do you want from me

The door of your room slamming open startled you as Max walked in with a scowl.

"Jesus Max calm down-“

“No, I am not going to calm down!” he yelled. “That idiot put you in the fucking hospital and caused two other people to crash. I'm going to kill him when I see him!”

You closed your eyes and sighed.

You didn't have any broken bones, thank god, but your entire body was covered in deep bruising.

It was extremely painful and they'd given you some very strong painkillers and a plethora of other medication that hadn’t quite kicked in yet, so you weren’t really in the mood for Max's yelling.

He noticed your pained expression and immediately calmed down, coming to sit on the edge of the bed and took your hand in his.

“I'm sorry schat, I'm just so angry… How bad is it?” he asked, voice wavering.

“Nothing broken, but I don't think I'll be able to make it to dinner” you joked weakly.

He whined and lay his head on your shoulder and you winced, so he pulled back and stroked your thigh tenderly.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry… Is there anywhere I can touch you where it doesn't hurt?”

You smirked, mind in the gutter, as usual “You always know where to touch me to make me feel good, Max…”

Max's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Go on baby, touch me wherever and I'll tell you if it hurts or not”

You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively and Max tried to swallow, his mouth was suddenly very dry.

Perhaps whatever they'd given you was finally starting to kick in.

And evidently, it wasn't just getting rid of the pain, it was making you insanely horny. Like… abnormal levels of horny. You hadn’t realized when you were alone, but the sight of Max in front of you was getting you very hot and bothered.

“Come on Max, touch me, I need it so bad…”

Your hand slowly slid up his denim covered thigh and his mouth opened and closed like a fish.

“Baby we can't” he gasped and got a hold of your wrist just before you got to the crotch of his jeans “We're in a hospital and you're badly injured…”

You were giving him your best (albeit a bit droopy) puppy dog eyes.

“And you are on drugs, my love”

You tried to sit up but your whole body protested so you stayed down, tugging at his shirt and pawing at his thick thighs.

“Please Max, fuck it's been so long, I need you inside me now”

It really had been a while. Between the races, your respective factory business was in entirely different countries, so you rarely had time to indulge in anything more than quickies and facetime debauchery.

Max was rapidly crumbling under your heated gaze (and your goddamn paws touching every bit of him you could reach) and his resolve didn't last long as he started going through ways to make this possible.

With every passing moment, your pain was decreasing and the heat between your legs was only getting worse as you whined at him to make you feel good.

He slowly stripped himself of his clothes and climbed over you, careful to avoid putting any weight on you.

As your body was uncovered bit by bit, he felt the anger come back, and then a wave of nausea took over.

There was barely any unblemished skin on your body, most of it coloured in various shades of yellow, purple and blue bruising.

He spread your legs and kneeled between them, running his fingers up the inside of your thighs and stopped just short of where you were almost dripping onto the sheets.

“Jesus baby, you really need me, huh?”

You whimpered pathetically and grabbed his hand to press it against you and rut against it desperately just for some relief.

The sight of you writhing and whimpering under him was overwhelming, and it didn't take long for him to line himself up and start pushing into you slowly.

Every time was like the first time with Max.

He held you in his arms, making sure you were okay as he split you open, burying inside you tight heat that seemed to be molded just for him.

You were drowsy from the painkillers but you felt every inch, every vein caress your walls as he dragged his cock in and out of you desperately.

His head dropped to the crook of your neck and you threaded your fingers through his hair while his hips rolled against yours in a slow rhythm, almost maddeningly so.

He went so deep, bumping your cervix on every slide in, and you let out low moans every time, matching his growls. You tugged harder on his hair while he nipped gently at your neck, cautious of where the seatbelt had bruised it.

His back muscles rippled under your touch and your eyes rolled back, the euphoria soon washing over your body in waves.

As soon as you started clenching around him, Max knew he was a goner. He'd missed the feeling so much, he quickly filled you up, shooting rope after rope deep inside you.

Once he was done, he rolled to the side so that he could lie down next to you but keep you in his arms as you stayed tangled together, sharing a passionate kiss.

“Fuck baby, I love you so much” you said, nails scratching at his scalp while he pressed kisses to your skin.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, making sure to not put any weight on you in the process. “I love you too schat, you have no idea how scared I was, seeing them cart you off in in an ambulance while I was stuck in the paddock doing fucking interviews…”

You hummed, fingers drawing patterns over his skin. “I’m here now, Max. And I’ll be fine.”

Max looked up at you with a smile.

“I know… but I’m still going to fucking kill Checo”

[spicyspiders]

I've got a nasty suggestion for a request.. Okay so we all know Logan would be nasty for reader. So what if we got a bit of pain play? I'm thinking something like... Logan putting the cigar out on readers thigh. Something added with pain 😉 Overall, I don't care what else. I LOVE YOUR WORK🩶🩶

The reader matched Logan's freak. The reader is also a mutant with accelerated healing because ouch. This is set sometime when Logan was a history teacher at the Xavier Institute, and the reader is their teaching assistant. I hope you enjoy.

“I don’t think this is what Beast meant by testing my powers,” you said, turning your neck to watch as Logan toasted one of his cigars against the headboard of your bed. 

“How will we know if we don’t try?” Logan asked before he started puffing it. There was a whole technique, or that’s what Logan said, at least. He always looked silly doing it, you thought, something that Logan quickly picked up on. 

“Can we hurry this up?” You questioned, trying to stifle your laugh from watching Logan light his cigar. “I have to grade the papers you assigned,” you said, thinking of the stack of essays in your office. 

When it was lit, Logan shifted behind you, his chest along your back and his chin hooked over your neck. His hands went to your belt to get your pants open and down just enough that your upper thighs were exposed, right past where your underwear stopped. 

“You’d rather spend office hours all alone grading papers than with me?” Logan asked, his voice a deep rumble on your back. 

“There are other ways to test my healing factor,” you answered, the thump of your heart accelerating when one of Logan’s hands moved to grab the cigar from between his lips. 

“Ones that won’t have you chubbing up in your slacks? You’re the freak that gets off on pain,” Logan said, his smirk pressed to the shell of your ear as he spoke. 

“I didn’t know I liked that until I met y-” your sentence ended with a yell of pain, one that Logan covered quickly with the palm of his hand. He caught you off guard as he pressed the burning end of the cigar into your skin. 

“Sh sh sh,” Logan cooed into your ear, “wouldn’t want to draw any attention like this,” he said, one of his hands going to cup the bulge in your underwear. “I ain’t sharing,” he said, his voice low and possessive. 

You let all of your weight fall back onto Logan’s chest when he pulled the cigar from your thigh. You were a late bloomer with your powers, so you weren’t sure if durability was your thing, but healing sure was. It hurt like hell initially, but it soon faded and was gone like it wasn’t even there less than a minute later. 

Though the pain and any evidence of the burn was gone, it still left your heart racing. “I think you’re right,” you said, trying to ignore your half hard cock that budged under Logan’s hand. “We have to get this under control,” you breathed, looking down at Logan’s hand. 

You felt Logan’s chuckle as it vibrated through you, “one thing at a bub,” he said as he pressed the meat of his palm into your cock, “gotta take care of this, first,” he finished, nipping at the lobe of your ear. 

“Don’t bub me,” you groaned, feeling as the cock grew fully hard under his palm, “I’m your-”

Logan cut you off with a tight hand on your neck as he twisted your head into a wet kiss. His hand snuck underneath the waistband of your underwear to wrap his fingers around your cock as he swallowed the sound of your moans.  

“I know, I know,” Logan said, smiling into the next kiss. 

[girlgenius1111]

You Come Back With Gravity

alexia and r have an argument. r misunderstands, and when alexia leaves to calm down, she thinks she's going for good. angst + fluff :)

-----

Alexia was big on communication, and she didn't like to fight. Neither did you, although your track record in past relationships may argue otherwise. That was more on your former partners, though, than it was on you. Not fighting was new for you. Alexia never yelled, and she insisted that the two of you talk about any issues that were going on calmly, and like adults. A voice had never been raised between the two of you, arguments never escalating to full blown shouting matches, mostly because of Alexia's insistence that they didn't.

Something about this argument, though, felt different. Alexia had proposed a few weeks ago, and, after having a bit too much to drink, you'd brought up something that had been nagging at the back of your mind for a while. Alexia had brushed it aside that night, and again and again since, until you practically forced her to talk about it. Normally, when you presented Alexia with an issue you had, she was quick to try to fix it. Your teammates often joked about the complete 180 Alexia did when she was around you, melting and agreeing to anything you asked of her. You were the same way for her, but it was more surprising that their normally very willful captain so easily did as you said.

If Alexia wouldn't budge on an issue, she normally had a reason, and you didn't require her to explain herself to you. This was different, though. You needed an explanation, before your mind continued to take off in the worst directions.

"Alexia, do you not see that this is important to me?"

"I do, amor, but there is no room for discussion. We are not going public with our relationship. It has stayed low key for this long, and I intend to keep it that way." Alexia was quickly losing her patience with you, and you could tell. Still, you persisted. 

'You won't even give me a reason, Ale! Is this what our relationship is going to be like for the rest of our lives? You make a decision that affects both of us, and I just have to live with it?" Your voice was slightly raised and you could tell Alexia was upset. You were pacing around the room, and she was sitting, completely still, on the couch. Alexia was never still. A part of her was always moving.

"I am not changing my mind on this, mi amor." Alexia told you calmly, although her jaw clenched tight when she finished speaking.

"Okay, well that's it. You don't care what I think. Whatever you say goes, is that it?" You were using anger to hide how terrified you were. There was really only one reason that you could think of to explain Alexia's complete refusal to be transparent about your relationship.

"You know that it is not."

"This is absurd, Ale, we can't even have a conversation without you-"

"¡Basta! Stop yelling, I do not want to talk anymore about this," Alexia shouted finally, rising to her feet.

"I am yelling because you are not listening to me,"

"You are not listening to me. No more of this, we can discuss it when we are both calmer."

"I don't want to push this aside again, I would like to resolve it now." You tried to calm yourself down slightly despite your words, drawing in a few deep breaths as you waited for your fiancée to respond.

"It is resolved. There is no discussion to be had. There is no other option; we are not going public. No."

You let out a humorless laugh, and Alexia's eyebrows shot up. She did not like to be laughed at.

"You aren't being fair, Alexia. I deserve an explanation for why you are so very ashamed of me, to the point you don't want anyone to know we are together."

Alexia rolled her eyes, not taking your statement seriously. She thought you were just being dramatic, there was no way you really believed that. You did believe it, though and Alexia's complete dismissal in the face of your admitted vulnerability made you furious.

"Jesus, Alexia. Fine. You get your way. As usual. Captain Alexia always gets what she wants." You yelled, throwing yourself down on the couch dramatically and burying your head in your hands. You didn't want to cry while you were fighting with her, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. You knew you weren't being fair, or particularly nice but Alexia had hurt your feelings and she didn't even seem to understand why.

It was dead silent for a full minute before Alexia let out a long, drawn out exhale, and spoke.

"You are being mean. I am going to go to Alba's."

Her words were stiff, clearly communicating how upset she was with you, and you whipped your head up to look at her, watching as she headed towards the door, grabbing her keys. She put her airpods in, but you didn't see her do so.

"Ale? Are you coming back?" You called, voice full of insecurity.

Alexia couldn't hear you, not with her music playing as loud as it was, and she walked out the door without acknowledging that you'd spoken.

You were frozen. This was what you always did; take a small fight and push it so far that the other person finally saw that you weren't worth the trouble. It hadn't happened with Alexia yet because you'd never fought with her. It wasn't enough that she didn't want anyone to know the two of you were together, you had to push her until she didn't want to be with you, period.

You were an over-thinker to your core, and you were convinced, absolutely, that you had just destroyed the most important relationship that you'd ever had. It was hard to breathe, hard to think, the suffocating weight of thinking that the woman you loved was not coming back taking over.

You weren't sure why you were surprised. People left, people always left. Why would this be any different? Alexia was the best person you'd ever known, and she deserved far better than what you could give her, even when you were at your best. Of course Alexia didn't want anyone to know that she was with you. Of course she didn't want you. You had only yourself to blame.

-----

While you sat alone in your apartment, spiraling, Alexia was driving not to her sisters, but to the beach. She needed some peace and quiet to think, which she surely would not find at Alba's.

She just needed to cool down. You were upset, she was upset, and continuing on like you had been would only lead you both to say things you didn't mean. She'd take an hour, calm down, and head home. Alexia had no idea that you had asked her a question before she'd left, had no idea that you were sitting at home, convinced she was done with you.

The longer she was gone, though, the more guilty she felt. She remembered the look on your face when you'd spoken:

"I deserve an explanation for why you are so very ashamed of me, to the point you don't want anyone to know we are together."

She thought you were just trying to make a point at the time, but as she got space from the fight, and from her own anger, she felt less sure about that judgment. You'd looked distraught when you said it. It would explain why you were so very upset with her reluctance to go public, why you were so very upset with her.

Alexia had watched many relationships fall apart once they hit the public eye; some of her own, and some of them, her friend's. She didn't want that. As long as you two kept this to yourselves, allowing your loved ones and teammates to know and no one else, the media couldn't destroy it. That was Alexia's biggest fear; losing you, and having no control over it.

Of course, you were sat at home, practically catatonic, at the thought that you had lost Alexia.

-----

Alexia didn't even make it an hour like she planned. She was parking in the driveway 44 minutes after she'd left, flowers next to her in the front seat, as she tried to figure out if she'd given you enough space to think. She determined that she had, mostly because she couldn't stand leaving things like this any longer, and she fixed her hair in the mirror, tucking the shorter pieces behind her ears in the way she knew you liked, before grabbing the flowers.

When she had left, it was still light out. It was dark, now, and Alexia was surprised when she opened the door and there was not a light on in the house. She panicked slightly, wondering if you'd left, before spotting your silhouette on the couch. Exactly where you'd been when she left. It looked like you hadn't moved, even an inch. The blonde slipped her shoes off, walking cautiously closer to you, flipping on the light.

You didn't make a move, giving her no indication that you knew she was there with you. Alexia could tell you were trembling, and every breath you drew in came with a small, pained whimper. Alexia was more than concerned, now. She dropped the flowers on the table, before crouching down in front of you.

"Mi amor?" She said softly, weary to touch you, not wanting to startle you.

"Hey, amor?" She spoke slightly louder this time. Still, you didn't even twitch. Tentatively, she reached her hand out, letting her hand wrap around your wrist. She was going to try to pull your hand away from your face, but you beat her to it, jumping a foot in the air at her touch, and scrambling backwards.

"It is me, amor, it is just me," Alexia reassured, throwing her hands up in the air, and not moving any closer.

"Ale?" You gasped, as if you couldn't believe that she was here in front of you. You were half convinced you were hallucinating. It felt like 2 minutes had passed, but also like it had been hours since she left.

"It is just me," Alexia repeated, taking a seat on the very edge of the couch. You were still shaking, and Alexia longed to bring you into her arms.

"What are you doing here?" You asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You came back. Why?"

"Why... why would I not come back? This is our home. Ours. Did you not want me here?" Alexia asked insecurely, entirely confused at your reaction. Your eyes were watery, and you bit your lip, shaking your head at her.

"No, I want you here, I... I asked if you were coming back. And you left without answering."

"Qué?" Alexia asked, looking genuinely confused. Alexia couldn't lie to you, and if she'd ignored something you'd said, she'd admit to it.

"Before you walked out the door, I asked if you were coming back." You explained further, although you were already relaxing slightly. Ale was here, she came back.

A look of realization dawned over your girlfriend's face. "I had my headphones in, amor, I did not hear you."

Now that Alexia could see where your mind had started to go, it wasn't hard to piece the rest of it together. It made sense, suddenly, why you were so upset. You'd thought Alexia had left you.

It was only seconds after that revelation that Alexia was reaching across the couch and pulling you into her arms; one wrapped tightly around your back, the other hand lacing through your hair and pushing your face into her neck. You clung tightly to her, melting into her touch.

"I would never leave you. Not today, not tomorrow. Not ever. I wanted to calm down, so we could have a conversation. I should have thought that through, bebé, I am so sorry."

You shook your head against her. "I shouldn't have overreacted, it was just that you were so upset, and we never fight. You're so good, Ale, it's like I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop, always waiting for you to realize that you can do better. I thought you had, I thought that's why you didn't want anyone to know about us."

Alexia shut her eyes tightly. You'd meant what you'd said earlier, then, and she'd completely dismissed it. She guided you away from her, just a bit, cradling your face in her hands. She brushed your hair back out of your face, pursing her lips as she tried to figure out what to say.

"It was not an overreaction. You thought I ignored you, you thought I was leaving. I know how nervous these things make you, mi amor, I should have been clearer."

"Amor, do you think that I want to keep our relationship private because I am ashamed of you?" When Alexia said the words, it felt ridiculous. You knew it was irrational to feel the way you felt, but at the same time… your fear was all encompassing. You tried to lean away from her, preserve some of your dignity even as more tears slid down your face, but Alexia wouldn't let you. "Hey, no. Tell me, por favor.” 

“You’re you Ale. And I’m just me. I would understand if you didn’t want people to know you were with me, you should be with someone better, prettier,-” 

“Stop.” Alexia said, shaking her head frantically. She looked physically pained at your words. “Stop. You are not allowed to talk about yourself like that. You are mí niña, mí niña perfecta. I am proud that you are mine, everyday. You are the best, you are the prettiest. You are all I need, te prometo que.” The blondes eyes were wide with a desperate need for you to believe her. You wanted to. 

“Then why, Ale? Why don’t you want people to know you’re with me?” You chewed on your bottom lip when Alexia didn’t answer right away, and her thumb reached over to lightly tap it. You released your lip, tightening your grip on your girlfriend, only growing more terrified for her answer as time passed. 

“You are so perfect.” Alexia started, giving you a stern look when you shook your head on instinct. “It’s so easy with you. So easy to love you, so easy to be with you. The media complicates everything, the fans. They would say horrible things to you and about you. As long as no one knows, I can keep you safe. I can keep you mine. Just mine.” 

“Alexia, I’m not worried about that.” You assured her. 

“You should be, mi amor, I am worried about it.” Alexia emphasized, and you only really realized the stress this worry was causing her at that moment. “It would not be the first time the media has ruined a relationship, and I do not think I could survive it if I lost you.” The blonde’s voice cracked at the end of her sentence, and suddenly, she wasn’t holding you anymore, you were holding her. Cradling her face in your hands as you insistently tried to get her watery, hazel eyes to meet yours. 

“Even if the media goes crazy, even if people say mean stuff. I’ll still want you, Ale. It won’t be fun but it’s worth it. If it’s for you? It’s worth it, it’ll always be worth it.” 

Alexia let out a sound that was halfway between a sob and a sigh of relief, burying her face in your neck. Her tears were wet against your skin, her breaths ragged and frantic. “Te amo,” she murmured. “You make me so happy, amor. If you are not worried about the media, then I will try not to be. If you want people to know, then we tell. Whatever you want, whatever you need. As long as you know that I love you, that you are perfect, that you are mine, forever. Para siempre.” 

Now you were crying, and she was still crying, as she gave you a very wet kiss, and it was entirely more emotional than either of you would have liked, but there was nothing to be done. The perfect relationship, you supposed, was one where you each thought the other to be perfect. Even if you didn’t see yourself that way, Alexia would always be there to convince you of your perfection, as you would for her.

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