#n i know i have to keep Trying but it is: tiring and hard having to explain things overr n over again.

[bu3ck3r]

tied together — part 4

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

a/n: let’s see if y’all gonna like it ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

tied together – masterlist

paige’s pov:

paige wasn’t even pretending to focus on film anymore.

her laptop was open, paused on a frame showing south carolina’s transition set — azzi at the top of the key, flicking the ball to the wing — but she hadn’t hit play again in ten minutes.

she was staring.

staring at azzi’s hands.

the way she dribbled, how fluid and controlled it was. staring at the way her shoulders shifted just before she exploded into motion.

and staring at her face — that locked-in, razor-sharp expression paige knew better than anyone.

azzi looked good.

too good.

paige flopped onto her bed, groaned, and dragged her hands down her face.

she was in trouble.

because watching game film wasn’t just watching game film anymore. it was watching her.

the girl who made her stupid. the girl she loved.

and the girl she might have to play against in a few days.

she zoomed in on the bench footage, pausing at moments where azzi smiled or tapped her fingers on her knee in that way she always does when she’s focused.

she doesn’t even realize nika’s behind her until she hears the door click.

nika walked in, saw the paused screen, raised an eyebrow. “you’re literally down bad.”

paige laughed. “say it louder, maybe the hallway didn’t hear you.”

nika smiled. “so when are you telling everyone?”

“about what?” paige teases.

nika just gave her a look. “you said it. i know you did. you look different.”

paige’s smile faded a little. “i don’t know when. or how. i don’t want it to blow up in her face.”

nika nodded. “but you’re not gonna keep her in the dark forever, right?”

“no,” paige said quietly. “not anymore.”

her phone buzzed on her chest.

you stalking me again or are you just bad at film study?

paige smiled without meaning to.

maybe both. can’t confirm.

you’re predictable.

you’re distracting.

you love it.

paige stared at that last message a beat too long.

her chest ached. and swelled.

she typed.

i love you.

no hesitation.

a second passed.

then two.

then—

i love you too. i miss you.

paige’s throat went tight. she set her phone down for a second like it was hot to the touch.

she missed her, too.

missed her voice, her laugh, her legs tangled with hers under the blanket. missed falling asleep to the sound of azzi’s breathing. missed knowing she was close enough to reach out and touch.

later azzi called.

in her comfiest hoodie, curled in her bed while paige talked about practice, her upcoming media day, and how she nearly airballed a three because she was thinking about azzi’s smile like a dumbass.

azzi laughed, soft and low. “you’re literally obsessed with me.”

paige leaned closer to the screen. “don’t act like you’re not eating it up.”

“maybe i am,” azzi shrugged, trying to play it cool, but her cheeks turned pink.

after their facetime ended azzi was sitting on the floor in her bathroom with her back against the wall and her knees pulled to her chest, phone glowing in her palm.

she kept rereading paige’s message.

she never got tired of it.

she never stopped needing it.

god, she was in deep.

and she wasn’t even trying to climb out.

─────────── ౨ৎ ──────────

their conversations lately had changed.

it wasn’t just teasing anymore — though there was still plenty of that.

now, everything felt more like… home.

azzi you iced today?

yes mother.

okay rude. but also hot.

you’re so obsessed with me p.

correct.

not denying it?

i literally watch your clips before bed. i’m cooked.

azzi laughed out loud, alone in her room.

god, she wanted to be anywhere else.

more specifically — in paige’s bed. mouth on hers. hands under her shirt.

she swallowed hard and texted again.

i want to hear your voice.

azzi lay on her side, headphones in, staring at paige’s sleepy face on her screen.

paige had one arm tucked under her head, hoodie pulled half over her mouth, hair messy and eyes soft.

“you look like you haven’t slept in a week,” azzi whispered.

“i haven’t,” paige said. “you ruined me.”

azzi grinned. “yeah?”

paige nodded, slow.

“in like… every possible way.” she added, voice soft.

paige didn’t even blink.

“i love you.”

azzi smiled.

“i love you too.”

the facetime call went quiet for a second.

just their breathing.

the sound of someone turning over in the hallway outside paige’s dorm.

“i hate this,” paige whispered eventually. “all the waiting. all the pretending.”

azzi’s voice was quiet. “pretending?”

“that we’re not gonna be on opposite sides of the court in a week.”

azzi didn’t answer.

paige stared at the screen. azzi was blinking at the ceiling, lips slightly parted, breathing like she was trying to stay calm.

finally, azzi said, “we don’t have to pretend. we just have to hold on.”

“to what?”

“to this. you and me.”

azzi’s pov:

practice was brutal.

not only physically, but emotionally.

coach kept shouting about matchups, about tempo, about intensity.

and every time someone mentioned uconn, someone mentioned her.

“you’ll need to pressure bueckers early. don’t let her get hot.”

“she likes to pass when she feels you on her hip. force the drive.”

azzi just nodded. took the notes. nodded again.

but inside, she was breaking.

because yes — she’d defend paige if it came to it.

she’d lock in. she’d play her game.

but she didn’t know if she could do it without shattering something between them.

paige’s pov:

she couldn’t sleep.

she tried.

turned her pillow over five times. opened and closed tiktok.

scrolled her texts with azzi until her eyes blurred.

nothing helped.

so she sent a voice note.

“i’m not okay. i just keep thinking about you. about how close we are to playing each other. and how stupid in love with you i am.”

seconds later, azzi replied with one of her own.

“sometimes i love you more than i love the game. even though i need the game. that’s how bad it is.”

paige smiled through tears.

“you’re everything to me.”

azzi’s pov:

it was the day before the game. everything had slowed down.

there was still noise — interviews, practice drills, coaches shouting — but none of it got through.

azzi walked through it like a ghost.

the truth had finally settled in: if both teams won tomorrow, they’d meet in the final four.

she’d have to guard paige.

she’d have to foul her. body her up. get in her head.

and she hated it.

because paige was already in her heart — and that space wasn’t built for battles.

─────────── ౨ৎ ──────────

azzi stared at the ceiling in the dark, airpods in, trying not to breathe too loud as paige’s voice whispered through the phone.

“…you still there?”

azzi smiled.

“always.”

paige sighed on the other end, soft and broken. “tell me something good.”

azzi shifted onto her side.

“i stole your t shirt and wore it under my practice jersey today.”

paige laughed — low and breathy.

“for real?”

“smelled like you,” azzi whispered. “made me feel better.”

“i love you,” paige said.

azzi closed her eyes.

“i love you more.”

“no, i—” paige stopped. “i love you like… it scares me. like i don’t even know who i am without you anymore.”

azzi’s throat tightened.

“i don’t want to find out,” she whispered.

paige had never been in love like this.

the kind that felt like panic and comfort in the same breath. the kind that lived in her fingertips and her ribs and her throat when she said azzi’s name.

she loved her so much it hurt.

and now she had to go play against her.

or try to.

they were both lying in bed, half-asleep, faces lit by the soft glow of their screens.

paige reached toward her camera like she could touch her.

azzi did the same.

“do you think we’ll be okay after this?” paige whispered.

azzi blinked slowly.

“i think we’re too stubborn not to be.”

paige smiled.

“you’re really it for me,” she said.

azzi’s eyes filled.

“you too.”

─────────── ౨ৎ ──────────

azzi’s pov:

the arena was massive.

lights everywhere. cameras already tracking them in warmups.

azzi shot around, going through the motions — but her eyes kept drifting.

she found paige easily, across the court, uconn blue and white, warm-up shirt tugged up to her elbows.

focused. beautiful. unreachable.

until she looked up.

their eyes met.

for one second, the entire world dropped out.

no crowd. no pressure.

just her. just paige.

and then paige mouthed something, so small only azzi could see.

“i love you.”

azzi’s heart cracked wide open.

she mouthed it back.

paige’s pov:

tunnel before tip-off.

she felt azzi before she saw her.

that weird magnetic tug that always happened — like gravity tilted slightly toward her when they were in the same building.

they passed in the tunnel, both walking to their benches.

azzi brushed her fingers against paige’s as they crossed.

paige didn’t look. just whispered:

“good luck.”

azzi whispered back:

“you too. come find me after.”

then they were gone — swallowed up by lights and screaming fans.

and the ball was tossed into the air.

azzi’s pov:

azzi found her before the chaos hit.

before the arena lights dimmed and the anthem blared and the crowd swallowed them whole, she took a risk.

snuck into the side tunnel outside the locker rooms, hoodie pulled low, headphones around her neck.

and there she was.

paige.

leaning against the concrete wall, arms crossed, like she was counting down.

she looked up the second azzi turned the corner.

didn’t say a word. just smiled.

azzi walked straight into her, wrapped her fingers around her, and kissed her.

it wasn’t soft. it wasn’t sweet.

it was desperate.

a second to breathe before they couldn’t anymore.

paige kissed her back, rougher than usual, hands on her waist, pulling her in like she didn’t care who might turn the corner and see.

when they finally pulled apart, azzi pressed her forehead to paige’s and whispered, “play your game.”

paige smiled. “you play yours.”

then, softer: “good luck.”

azzi smirked.

“you’ll need it.”

paige rolled her eyes but didn’t step back.

“i love you,” she whispered.

azzi said it right back. didn’t even think.

then they disappeared in opposite directions.

paige couldn’t get her heartbeat under control during warmups.

not because of the crowd or the cameras.

because azzi was on the other side of the court, stretching with her team like she didn’t just kiss paige breathless ten minutes ago in a tunnel that smelled like adrenaline.

uconn jogged through layup lines. paige moved on instinct.

she couldn’t focus.

azzi looked locked in.

like she’d flipped the switch.

and that made paige grin.

because this was the only way they knew how to love each other.

all in. no holding back. even when they were going head-to-head.

azzi’s pov:

hands on knees, braids tight, crowd blurring into noise — she focused on the ball, the whistle, the first possession.

but then paige jogged by her.

and looked.

just a flick of the eyes. a half-smirk.

azzi’s stomach flipped.

she smacked her palms together, bent her knees, and muttered, “let’s play.”

the first few minutes were chaos.

fast breaks. missed shots. sloppy fouls.

but uconn got into rhythm quick — and paige hit her first jumper off a screen.

nothing but net.

and paige didn’t look at azzi after the shot. didn’t need to.

she felt her watching.

two minutes later, azzi checked in.

and walked straight to paige.

they didn’t speak.

just locked eyes as they matched up — azzi on defense, paige on the ball.

paige grinned. “you ready?”

azzi raised an eyebrow. “always.”

paige was quick.

but azzi had studied her.

watched hours of film. knew her favorite spots. her hesitation move. the way she looked down for half a second before pulling up.

so when paige tried to get by her — azzi slid right with her and stripped the ball clean.

fast break. easy two.

no celebration. just a glance.

paige scowled, then smiled.

“okay,” she muttered. “that’s how we’re playing?”

azzi shrugged. “love you.”

paige deadpanned. “not right now you don’t.”

paige’s pov:

halftime – uconn 39, sc 36

she had only 9 points. and azzi had picked her pocket twice.

paige was pissed.

not at her — at herself. but also… maybe a little at her.

because azzi guarding her was like being studied and kissed and smothered all at once.

it was infuriating. and kind of hot.

in the locker room, she barely listened to geno’s breakdown.

all she could think was: i need to score. i need to show her i’m still me.

at second half paige came out aggressive.

first two possessions — mid-range pull-up, then a driving layup.

azzi cursed under her breath.

but it didn’t throw her.

she clamped down harder. got physical. body-to-body on every screen.

they bumped hips. shoulders. chests.

it was borderline inappropriate.

and absolutely electric.

in the final minutes uconn pulled ahead late.

azzi fouled her on a drive, hand slipping down her waist as they collided.

paige hit the floor, let out a breath, then looked up.

azzi stood over her, hands on her knees.

“you good?” she asked.

paige grinned, breathless.

“you touching me like that in front of thousands?”

azzi laughed. “you liked it.”

paige stood, got the free throws, and brought her total to 15.

the last shot of the game was a buzzer beater by paige’s teammate.

uconn won.

but paige didn’t celebrate.

she looked across the court.

azzi was bent over at the waist, catching her breath, jaw clenched.

azzi’s pov:

she held it together in the handshake line.

slapped backs. nodded at reporters. smiled when she didn’t mean it.

when she reached paige, she hesitated for half a second.

then they touched palms. quick. impersonal.

but paige’s fingers brushed hers for just a second longer than they should’ve.

azzi looked up.

and paige mouthed, “text you.”

during the press conference paige smiled through almost every question.

talked about teamwork. adjustments.

no one asked about azzi.

but paige was thinking about her with every breath.

the second the media let her go, she pulled out her phone and texted azzi.

can we meet? just us. somewhere quiet.

azzi’s pov:

she hadn’t changed out of her uniform yet.

just peeled off her jersey and sat in the locker room with her knees pulled to her chest, headphones in, face blank.

she was proud. she was devastated.

aliyah looked at her.

“hey. you okay?”

azzi nodded.

“you sure?”

azzi didn’t look up. “yeah, just exhausted.”

aliyah hesitated, then stepped back.

as soon as the door shut, her phone buzzed in her lap.

can we meet? just us. somewhere quiet.

azzi stared at the message.

she didn’t answer right away.

she just got up, grabbed her hoodie, and left.

paige was already there, sitting on a low metal railing, hoodie up, legs swinging. she looked up when she heard azzi’s steps echo on the concrete.

neither of them spoke for a second.

then paige stood, walked over, and stopped a foot in front of her.

“you good?” she asked quietly.

azzi nodded. “you?”

“yeah.”

azzi stared at her.

“fifteen points,” she said, mouth twitching.

paige rolled her eyes. “wow. straight to that.”

“i mean…” azzi stepped closer, eyes shining. “you talked so much and couldn’t even hit twenty?”

paige’s smile was crooked. “you were all over me.”

“you saying i rattled you?”

“i’m saying…” paige leaned in, mouth brushing azzi’s ear, “you looked hot when you bodied me on the baseline. kind of unfair, honestly.”

azzi laughed, breathless. “you’re sick.”

paige shrugged. “maybe a little.”

azzi went quiet.

then: “that’s not a joke to me.”

paige stepped back just enough to look her in the eyes.

“it’s not a joke to me either.”

a long beat.

“what happened out there…” azzi said slowly. “it was just basketball. but it’s not us.”

paige nodded. “it’s just basketball.”

azzi reached for her hand. laced their fingers. “but this?”

paige squeezed back. “this is everything else.”

azzi didn’t remember who leaned in first.

maybe it didn’t matter.

all she knew was paige’s mouth was on hers, and she felt like she could finally breathe again.

it started soft — but didn’t stay that way.

paige pressed her back to the wall, hands on azzi’s hips, fingers slipping under her hoodie. azzi gasped into her mouth, then kissed her harder.

azzi’s hands gripped the front of paige’s hoodie, dragging her closer.

paige whispered against her neck, “still mad i didn’t score more?”

azzi moaned, quiet and low.

“not really,” she breathed. “i was kinda busy watching you run your mouth and look good doing it.”

paige smirked, hand sliding under the hem of azzi’s shirt, brushing her stomach.

“you like the attitude?”

azzi pulled her down again. “i love all of it.”

the kiss deepened.

fingers tangled in hair. lips moving fast. hot. desperate.

paige whispered between breaths:

“i love you so much.”

“you played so good baby.”

they didn’t go all the way — not here, not now. but it was close.

hands on bare skin. mouths pressed tight. the promise of later in every touch.

azzi rested her forehead on paige’s.

“don’t disappear again,” she said.

paige opened her eyes.

“i’m not going anywhere.”

she kissed her again — slow this time. soft. like she was thanking her for something neither of them could say out loud yet.

they stayed like that for a while.

just holding each other.

letting the rest of the world wait.

[soaraes]

thinking about gooner!art / hypersexual!art,,

mdni — ageless blogs included.

💬 warning: holy shit, he’s DISTUSTING and a LOSER. but that’s the point.

genuinely became a problem once he reached college.

no parents around, GOD FORBID he has an apartment style dorm + some money on him.

he’s going to town A LOT (obviously). but more than he would if he had a roomate for sure.

since it’s the early 2000s, he doesn’t use the internet to get off sometimes.

classic magazines, not a playboy kinda guy though.

definitely whimpers n’ whines, gets kinda shaky when he’s about to cum.

often fantasizes about getting dominated since he genuinely believes he doesn’t stand a chance with the lack of confidence he has in bagging some of his favorite girls.

YES, he has favorite girls.

jerk off rate per day? on average? probably like five-six times.

one when he wakes up, one before he falls asleep (him cumming usually causes him to go to sleep because he’s just tuckered out for the most part), one after practice (if he feels like it), and always after an exam. (he’s stressed), and pretty much any other time he might randomly get hard.

even if that’s just his shorts coming up a bit too much, moving his dick through his underwear a bit too much.

he mostly does when he “can’t sleep”. (which is most nights.)

goes multiple rounds if he can.

a pillow humper!! sometimes he gets really tired of using his hand so sometimes he’ll just use his pillow and rub his dick on it over and over. (he uses a towel, sometimes multiple to cover up where he MIGHT cum.)

has definitely done the walk of shame to the laundry room a few times just because he accidentally came on his sheets.

he has definitely had a fantasy about some of his favorite professors from time to time.

he’s a good student, so whenever he gets praise from them, he often gets a hard on and then has to either get one off when he gets to the dorm or in the nearest bathroom.

sometimes he pees a little after he cums because he’s just trying to drain his balls and sometimes does a little too much but he kinda likes it so he keeps doing it.

when the internet starts to become a bit more functional and people start making porn sites, it’s actually over.

getting off daily, FOR SURE.

favorite category? probably into creampies or breeding. facefucking lover + loves facial finishes.

he also finds his favorite girls on the internet too.

likes to sometimes watch those videos where the couples are like passionate with it because it makes him feel some sense of love in his life because he’s just such a degenerate.

whenever he goes home for a weekend, it’s actually torture. he tries not to do it once he’s there in his bedroom, but most times it’s just fucking impossible.

loves cam girls to death once he finds out they exist.

it’s like endless goonery for him, it’s great.

like i said earlier, god forbid he has money. — getting sex toys + donating to said cam girls for special requests.

LOVESSSS it whenever the cam girls say his name because it feels like he’s actually receiving the touch of a woman.

loves phrases like “your cock is so deep” and “your dick is so big”

post nut clarity? absolutely deadly and dreadful.

knows he won’t ever be successful with a woman in bed because porn + cam girls have rotted his brain and ruined his reception of sex for a while, probably.

premature cummer when he actually gets inside of a woman in his sophmore year.

it’s like his dick gets absolutely freaked out at the warm and wetness of it all because it’s just so overstimulating to his cock.

so used to the hand and the toy that when he experiences the real thing, it’s absolutely foreign to him.

first blowjob? same thing. extremely nervous.

shakes when overstimulated. (when he’s with an actual woman, it’s like 10x worse.)

jerks off to the thought of some attractive women he sees on campus that he’ll never see again because of his disgusting imagination with some depraved part of his brain.

imagines how they look naked and what it be like to fuck them, even if it was just five minutes of what he likes describe as pure heaven.

loves getting off in his car, has a fantasy about getting caught by someone and them joining him (because of his porn rotted brain).

too pussy to actually park it somewhere where there’s a risk that some people might actually see him.

tells himself that he’ll eventually stop jerking off so much. (he won’t because he has no self-control. <3)

has cum so hard that he’s cried a few times and then just kept going because it felt so so good to be at the peak and to feel so euphoric for so so long.

hisses a little whenever he sticks his cock in his fleshlight after not using it for a while. his favorite nonexistent pussy in the world.

“ffffuck. god, i’ve missed you, sweetheart.”

yes, he talks to his toys like they’re actually women. let a man dream, yeah?

alr, i’m done !!

enjoy you filthy people ! okay bye. <3

[kenansslut]

twins

pairing: kenan yildiz x fem reader

request: Could you write something where the Reader and Kenan are trying to have a baby, but things just don't happen and after a lot of anguish, fights and problems due to not being able to achieve it and the injections not working, they both decide to forget about it for a while, concentrate again on themselves as a couple, but one day they simply find out that they are going to be parents, but not of one but of two babies

a/n: this probably has to be my favorite

The tension in the room was palpable as Y/N paced back and forth, frustration etched on their face. Kenan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his expression a mix of concern and irritation.

"Why can't we just talk about this without it turning into a fight?" Y/N snapped, stopping to face him. "Every time I bring it up, you just shut down!"

"I'm not shutting down! I'm just... I’m tired, okay?" Kenan replied, running a hand through his hair. "It feels like every month it's the same disappointment. I don’t know how much more I can take."

Y/N's voice cracked slightly, the weight of their emotions spilling over. "I thought we were in this together! It’s not just about the trying; it’s about the hope, the dreams we had. But you act like it’s no big deal!"

"It's a big deal, Y/N! But fighting about it isn’t going to solve anything. It just makes it worse!" Kenan shot back, frustration boiling over. "Maybe we should just take a break from all of this. Give ourselves some space."

"Space? You mean give up? Is that what you want?" Y/N's heart raced, feeling the sting of his words. "I don’t want to give up on us or our dreams!"

Kenan sighed heavily, his anger dissipating as he saw the hurt in Y/N's eyes. "I don’t want to give up either, but maybe stepping back for a while could help us find our way back to each other. We can’t keep doing this."

The silence that followed was heavy, both of them grappling with the reality of their situation, the anguish of unfulfilled dreams hanging in the air like a dark cloud.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside. "Maybe... maybe you’re right," they said softly, looking down at the floor. "I just need some time to think. I don’t want to keep fighting like this."

Kenan nodded, his expression softening. "I don’t want to fight either. I just want us to be okay."

Y/N glanced up, meeting his gaze. "I think some space might help us both. I just need to clear my head and figure things out."

"Yeah, I get that," Kenan replied, his voice quieter now. "Just know that I’m here for you, no matter what."

With a heavy heart, Y/N decided to take a step back. "I’ll go stay with my sister for a bit. It’s not a breakup; I just need to breathe."

"Okay," Kenan said, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Just take care of yourself. We’ll figure this out together when you’re ready."

As Y/N packed a small bag, they felt a mix of relief and sorrow. It wasn’t the end, just a pause. They left the apartment, knowing that sometimes a little distance could help them find their way back to each other.

A few weeks had passed, and Kenan was feeling the weight of his decision. The silence in his apartment was deafening, and every corner reminded him of Y/N. He missed her laughter, the way she’d curl up on the couch with him, and their late-night talks that stretched into the early hours.

He found himself scrolling through their old messages and photos, nostalgia hitting him hard. "What was I thinking?" he muttered to himself, regret flooding in. The space he thought would help had only left him feeling more lost and alone.

Every day felt like a struggle, and he realized just how much he needed her in his life. He missed the way they could talk about anything and everything, the comfort of knowing she was there. "I need to fix this," he said, determination replacing his earlier doubt.

Kenan decided it was time to reach out. He picked up his phone, heart racing, and sent her a message: "Hey, can we talk? I really miss you."

Y/N stared at Kenan's message, her heart racing. She felt a swirl of emotions—part of her missed him terribly, but there was also that lingering doubt. After all, they had decided to take a break for a reason.

She took a deep breath and typed back, "Hey... I miss you too, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to see you just yet. I need to think about everything. What if things just go back to how they were? I don’t want to get hurt again."

Y/N hesitated, wondering if she should just say yes and meet him. But the fear of falling back into old patterns held her back. She added, "Can we just talk for a bit? I don’t want to rush into anything."

With that, she hit send, hoping for the best but preparing herself for whatever might come next.

Kenan read her response and felt a mix of relief and anxiety. At least she was open to talking. He quickly replied, "Of course, I totally understand. How about we meet up tomorrow? Just to talk things out? I really want to explain how I feel."

Y/N thought for a moment, then replied, "Okay, I can do that. Let’s meet at our favorite coffee shop around 3? I think it’ll be good to talk in person."

The next day, Kenan arrived early, his heart pounding in anticipation. When Y/N walked in, he felt a rush of emotions. They found a cozy corner table and sat down, the air thick with unspoken words.

Kenan took a deep breath and said, "I’ve missed you so much. I regret suggesting the break. I just want us to be together again. I know we can make it work."

Y/N looked into his eyes, feeling the weight of his words. They both knew this conversation could change everything.

Y/N took a moment to gather her thoughts, her gaze fixed on Kenan. "I’ve missed you too, but... this break has been peaceful. We weren’t fighting, and I don’t want to go back to that. It’s like I finally got some space to breathe."

Kenan felt a pang in his chest but pressed on. "I get that, but I don’t want to lose you. I believe we can work through our issues. I still want to try for a kid. I want a family with you. Can we really walk away from that?"

Y/N hesitated, feeling torn. "I want that too, but what if we just end up in the same place again? I don’t want to keep going in circles."

Kenan reached across the table, his voice earnest. "I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to make it work this time. I want us to be happy together. Let’s not give up yet."

The tension hung in the air, as they both weighed their feelings and the future ahead.

As they left the coffee shop, the conversation flowed easily between them. They talked about what had been going on in their lives—Y/N shared her new job projects, while Kenan excitedly recounted his recent football matches and how he was finally getting better.

When they arrived back at their apartment, the familiar warmth of their shared space enveloped them. They settled onto the couch, and the atmosphere shifted slightly. The laughter and lightheartedness faded into something deeper, more intimate.

Kenan looked at Y/N, his eyes searching hers. "I really want to make this work. I miss everything about us."

Y/N felt her heart race. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, and the connection they once had began to rekindle. As they leaned closer, their hands brushed, sending a spark between them.

In that moment, the walls they had built around their hearts began to crumble, and they found themselves wrapped up in each other, feeling the warmth and comfort of being together again. It was a moment filled with hope, a chance to start anew.

As they sat there, the tension between them grew, and Kenan gently cupped Y/N's face, looking into her eyes. "I really want to be close to you again," he said softly.

Y/N felt a rush of emotions and nodded, leaning in closer. They shared a tender kiss, filled with a mix of longing and hope. The kiss deepened as they melted into each other, forgetting the world around them.

They moved to the bedroom, where the atmosphere felt charged with a sense of renewal. They talked and laughed as they reminisced about their favorite memories together, and the intimacy between them grew stronger. It was as if they were rediscovering each other all over again, allowing themselves to be vulnerable and open.

In that moment, they realized that maybe this was the fresh start they both needed, and they were willing to fight for it together.

After that night, things felt different for Y/N and Kenan. They settled back into their routine, but Y/N started feeling a bit off at night. Nausea crept in, and she couldn't shake the feeling that something was changing. Still, she didn't want to get her hopes up.

One day, after weeks of uncertainty, Y/N decided to take a pregnancy test. When she saw the positive result, her heart raced with excitement and disbelief. She knew she had to surprise Kenan in a special way.

Y/N went online and ordered a baby jersey with his number 10 on the back and the word “daddy” printed above it. When Kenan came home that evening, she handed him the wrapped gift with a grin.

As he opened it, his eyes widened in shock, and then joy spread across his face. "Wait, are you serious?!" he exclaimed, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"Yeah, we're having a baby!" Y/N laughed, feeling the weight of her worries lift away.

Kenan's excitement was contagious as he suggested, "We should make an appointment to see how the baby is doing! This is amazing!" They both felt a surge of happiness.

Kenan beamed with excitement and said, "I hope it’s a boy! I can’t wait to teach him how to play football! Just imagine us on the field, kicking the ball around!"

Y/N smiled, feeling the warmth of his enthusiasm. "That would be so cute! But you know, if it’s a girl, I’d love to teach her how to play too! She could be a little soccer star!"

"Totally! I can already picture our kid with your smile and my skills on the field," Kenan laughed. "What do you think they'll look like? I hope they get your beautiful eyes!"

Y/N giggled, "And your charm! We’re going to have the best little one. I can’t wait to see them grow up, running around and having fun."

They spent the rest of the evening dreaming about their future family, the laughter and love between them growing stronger with every word.

A week later, Y/N and Kenan found themselves sitting in the doctor's office, their hearts racing with anticipation. The room was filled with soft light, and the sound of the ultrasound machine hummed gently in the background. Kenan held Y/N's hand tightly, both of them exchanging excited glances, their minds racing with thoughts about what the appointment might reveal.

As the doctor began the ultrasound, they watched the screen intently. The image flickered to life, and Kenan leaned in closer, his eyes wide with curiosity. Suddenly, the doctor turned to them with a smile and said, "Well, it looks like we have quite the surprise today."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she looked at Kenan, who was already on the edge of his seat. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor pointed to the screen, and there they were—two tiny figures side by side. "Congratulations! You're having twins!"

For a moment, everything felt like it had stopped. Kenan's jaw dropped, and he blinked in disbelief. "Twins? Are you serious?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with shock and joy.

Y/N's eyes filled with tears as she processed the news. "Twins! Oh my gosh, I can't believe it!"

Kenan couldn't contain his excitement. "This is incredible! I always dreamed of being a dad, but now I get to be a dad to two little ones! Just imagine all the football games, the playdates, everything! I can’t wait to teach them how to play!"

Y/N laughed through her tears, feeling the overwhelming joy wash over her. "And we can dress them in matching outfits! They’re going to be the cutest little duo ever!"

As they continued to watch the ultrasound, Kenan's mind raced with possibilities. "I can already see them running around, kicking the ball, and getting into all sorts of mischief," he said, his eyes sparkling with dreams of fatherhood. "I’m going to be the best dad ever!"

Y/N squeezed his hand, feeling the love and excitement radiating between them. "And I’ll be right there with you, cheering them on every step of the way. We’re in this together."

As the appointment came to an end, they left the office hand in hand, both buzzing with excitement and the promise of their growing family. The world outside felt brighter, and they knew that their lives were about to change in the most beautiful way.

[moonwalkingprincess]

Could you make part 3 of mockingbird?

Mockingbird part 3: Disposable

A/N: Sorry for being late but you guys should be expecting me not always being on time, I do have ADHD after all. I get tired over anxiety, over stimulation, college, social conventions and just won't always have the energy to write. Technically i did finish by thuesday, I just didn't translate it to english...

Anyways... Not everything will be on time. It's just as well that you get used to it.... but i can promise you that I will be start to write part 4 by the end of this week.

__

Part 2

The sun had barely risen when Marshall rushed up the stairs and knocked lightly on the children's doors. "get up! Come on, you're gonna be late!" he called, his voice both tired and stressed.

He entered the hallway where Y/N was making eggs and bacon for breakfast. Marshall ran a hand through his hair, mumbling to himself as he started packing their lunches. He had to go back and forth, really pushing them to get up and get dressed. It took time because Alaina wanted to wear a princess dress and Hailee refused to get up.

"If you don't get up, you're not getting candy this weekend."

Hailee made an angry face and threw the blanket off herself, while Marshall helped her get dressed. Y/N had to convince Alaina not to wear the princess dress, convincing her that her other clothes were prettier.

Marshall's phone buzzed again—another text from the studio. "Need to come in NOW."

"Shit," Y/N heard him mutter from the kitchen and walked toward the sound. He glanced at the clock on the wall. "I have to get to the studio. How the hell am I supposed to get the kids to school when I need to be there in thirty minutes?"

Alaina groggily appeared in the doorway, her hair all over the place. "What’s happening?"

"I need to get to the studio, like now," Marshall said quickly. "But... who’s going to drive you? Mrs. Thompson is off today..."

"I can drive them," Y/N said, sticking her head in with a soft smile, holding a cup of coffee.

Marshall’s eyes widened with relief.

"Really? Could you—? You’d save my life," he said with a frustrated sigh.

Y/N laughed. "It’s fine, Marshall. You go ahead. I’ll handle it."

He paused for a moment, looking at her as if he didn’t quite know how to thank her properly.

"You’re a fucking angel, I love you," he muttered, kissing her on the lips before grabbing his car keys from the hallway table. "I’ll call when I know how long I’ll be."

"Good luck," Y/N called after him as he rushed out the door like a whirlwind.

Behind her, the kids groaned about having to get up. Y/N smiled to herself. The chaos in this house was something she was starting to like more than she’d admit.

The rain pattered against the car window as she turned down the heat and glanced in the rearview mirror.

Alaina was curled up in the backseat, she was mad she wasn’t allowed to go as Belle to school, silent with a little furrow between her brows, while Hailee stared sullenly out the window, arms tightly crossed over her chest. To lighten the mood, Y/N fumbled for an old CD and popped it into the stereo. The soft, familiar intro to "Beauty and the Beast" filled the car.

Alaina smiled faintly and sank further into her seat, her eyelids heavy from sleep and the calm of the music. Hailee, on the other hand... just got more annoyed.

"Seriously?" she muttered, shooting an irritated glance at Y/N. "Are we five years old or something?"

Y/N smiled kindly in the rearview mirror. "It’s for Lainey. She likes this one. Plus, a little classic never hurts."

Hailee snorted and lightly kicked the seat in front of her.

It got quiet for a moment, with only the music and the rain’s pattern.

Then it came—the sharp, childish defiance:

"My dad doesn’t actually like you."

The words hit hard, but Y/N managed to keep her gaze steady on the road. She knew Hailee was angry, not mean. She was trying to provoke. Test the boundaries.

"Oh yeah?" Y/N responded calmly, with a small crooked smile. "He said something different this morning."

Hailee wrinkled her nose and leaned back. "He’s lying. He thinks you’re boring and old.”

Y/N suppressed a laugh—mainly because she knew that Hailee didn’t even have a real definition of "old." 

“He’s seeing someone else behind your back.” she said.

Now that really hurts. You had been cheated on before. Your mind went to your past boyfriends. 

“Who?” you let her get to you. 

"Mom." 

Now you got it. She must see you as the homewrecker. The thing that keeps her parents apart. 

"It’s okay," Y/N said softly. "You can be mad at me if you want. But I’m still going to take care of you and your sister until your dad gets home."

For a moment, Hailee almost looked vulnerable.

She looked away again, out the window, and pulled up her sleeve to wipe away a tear that had snuck down her cheek.

Alaina whispered from the backseat: "Hailee... stop."

Y/N let them be. The music from "Tale as Old as Time" filled the car, creating a soft barrier against the silence.

After a few minutes, Y/N heard a quiet mutter from Hailee: "... You make pretty good hot chocolate, at least."

Y/N smiled to herself.

Small steps. Small hearts learning to dare again.

__

You didn’t have much to do today. You released your latest album a year ago, and it was a success… Your fans kept asking for more music, but it had been difficult. You’d been struggling to find inspiration, but your new role as a stepmom had made you rethink things. You started humming a song and came up with some lyrics...

“I never thought that I could…” you hummed, trying to find words. “I never thought that I could have you? Love you? that there be angels? Nah…” you said to yourself, holding your guitar close to you. You wanted to write a song about how you never imagined yourself as a mom, you actually hated the idea of being a mom. You were the person who grew up on the streets, and the only thing you had potential for was your music. You never thought that was a life for a child, but now that you’ve met Marshall and your life has clearly taken turns, it actually seems possible.

After an hour of thinking about a song, you had an interview. You had a radio interview. Of course, they asked a personal question.

“I’m sorry, babe, but we gotta ask you about your boyfriend,” she asked, and her friend gasped in agreement.. "We have to ask. You and Marshall—how did you two meet?" They let out a little laugh and you rolled your eyes.

“It was after the song 'Disposable.' I wasn't happy over that song, it made me upset, and he found out. He apologized, which I was really surprised about. A lot. And after that, we got to know each other, and I found out he’s more down to earth than I thought."

"So it was after his beef with you?" asked the second girl.

"Yeah." 

"How do you get together with a guy that disrespected you like that?"

"People need to understand that his music is nothing more than that. Music. He does it to create reactions and get free commercials."

Flashback 2 year earlier

You sat curled up on the edge of the couch, arms wrapped tightly around your knees. You had been trying to hold it together, but the words of the song echoed relentlessly in your mind “You’re disposable—plastic pride with a name tag. One verse in and I’m draggin' your whole damn hashtag” 

Footsteps approached—heavy, familiar. You didn’t look up.

“Yo,” Marshall’s voice came from the doorway, softer than usual. “You good?”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. What was he even doing in this studio? 

He stepped inside.  “Hey... what’s up?”

Still, you said nothing. Your jaw clenched.

Marshall moved closer, crouching in front of you now. “Talk to me, come on. What’s going on?”

“Are you serious right now?” you snapped. 

He stood slowly, wary. “Do I... know you?”

He didn’t even know what you looked like?

“Guess not. But you sure knew enough to write three verses about me.”

Silence. Long. Heavy.

Then his eyes narrowed slightly—recognition flickering. “Wait. You’re—”

You didn’t let him finish. Your fist flew before your brain could even catch up.

Crack.

His head snapped sideways. The room went dead silent.

He stumbled a step back, hand to his jaw. ���What the fuck?!”

“You don’t know me,” you seethed. “You don’t even know what I look like. And yet you called me fake, a leech, a ‘disposable name tag with delusions of meaning.’”

His jaw tightened. He looked at the floor. “It’s hip hop,” he muttered. “It’s how it works.”

“No,” you snapped. “It’s cowardice with a beat behind it.”

“Look,” he said, trying to hold onto his edge. “I heard some shit. About you. The way you were using people’s names to climb platforms—”

“So you made a whole track instead of speaking to me like a human being?”

He said nothing.

You swallowed hard. Your voice cracked. “I’m not a rapper. I don’t have a diss track to answer you with. Just this.” You held up your trembling fist. “And the sick feeling in my stomach when I realized someone like you decided I wasn’t even worth a conversation. Just a punchline.”

He blinked slowly, like your words were hitting him a few seconds too late. “...I didn’t mean to actually hurt you,” he said quietly. “I thought I was... defending the culture. Calling shit out.”

You stared at him. “You weren’t defending anything. You were throwing a grenade into someone’s life for sport.”

He opened his mouth to argue—but closed it. Because deep down, he knew you were right.

Then he looked up at you again, softer this time. The edge in his voice was gone.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Then, after a long pause, “I just... didn’t know how cute you were.”

The room went still.

Your lips parted slightly. You blinked, caught off guard. The tears still sat on your lashes, but now your cheeks flushed hot in a completely different way.

You looked away, biting back the smallest, stunned smile.

“Asshole,” you muttered.

But you were blushing. And he saw it.

A/N: Part 4 will be upp when I have the motivation.

[very-merry-birthday]

Wrong Side of the Bed ⋆Second Part⋆

Part One

Summary: When Dean and the reader get hit by a curse that stops them from sleeping, they start dreaming instead. (A bit of plot as an excuse for a bunch of different smut. First part- Shower sex, Impala sex, Bed sex. This part- Demon Dean, Sweet Dean).

Warning: Smut. Unprotected sex. (Dream) Demon Dean -> dirty talk + rough sex.

~~~

The rest of the morning was spent in a tired haze. Sam tapped away at his laptop, you and Dean took turns between the bed and the couch. After a while he gave up, eventually letting you lay with your head on his lap, stroking your hair with comforting hands, hoping that even if he couldn't sleep he could help you to.

You felt time passing, a bubble around you, and the need for sleep growing. But more than that was your need for Dean. Every time you closed your eyes images filled you head, you wanted so desperately to reach out to him, to grab him, to feel the contours of his body.

At midday Sam finally got both of your attention to show you what he'd found. He spun his laptop around triumphantly, and met with blank faces, began to explain.

"I couldn't find much. It looks like it's- it's sort of an odd curse. To some it's a blessing, but-"

Dean cut in, already short tempered, "Can you just explain what's going on?"

"I think it's a curse that makes you see your true desires. It's stopping you from sleeping until you get them, so it's basically making you think about them non stop. You've been having weird dreams right- almost out of body?"

You both nodded, listening.

"Right so those would be your true desires."

You paused for a moment considering his words, "Is it possible we're thinking of the same thing?"

"It very well could be- I'm not sure how this curse works being shared across two people, there's a good chance you're connected in some way. Dean what are you thinking about? What's it that you really want?"

Dean looked over at you and swallowed hard before speaking, his face ragged with exhaustion, "Beer?"

Sam looked doubtful.

"Beer and strippers." He repeated himself, slightly more sure.

Sams doubt didn't let up. "Right. And you, Y/N? What is it you want?"

You paused again, "Well all I really want right now is a decent night sleep- how do we get it?"

"That's a little more tricky." He spun the laptop back to himself, looking down at the screen, "It doesn't really say. There's a chance you just need to get the thing you really want? Other than that, maybe you're right, maybe you just need to wait it out until sleep becomes the most important thing to you?"

You and Dean exchanged worried looks, cautious about how unsure he sounded. Dean spoke up again, "How long is that supposed to take?"

"Like I said, I really don't know anything here. My advice would be to exhaust yourselves, stop trying to sleep and go on a run."

You rolled your eyes, the idea of trying to run while feeling like this impossible.

Dean stood up quickly, "He's right- not about running- but we need to do something." He pulled you to your feet, "We train. This shouldn't have happened in the first place, and if the only way we get past it is to wear ourselves out- so be it."

You nodded cautiously, going along with his ideas, "I'll only agree if you can get me a room by myself tonight."

-

Dean shoved his body against yours, hard, pain reverberating through you as you slammed into the motel wall. You let out a pained exclamation.

"Come on Y/N you have to focus, we've gone through this twice already."

You slumped down in front of him in a crouch, your head pounding, desperate to take a break. "Just give me a second, yeah?"

"We need keep going, just a bit more and then we can try and sleep again."

You stood up cautiously, balancing yourself against the wall, "I'm fucking exhausted Dean, I just need a second."

He grabbed your shoulder roughly, keeping you stood up, speaking more gently, "Me too, come on let's run it once more and then we can try and sleep again, it's almost dark anyway."

You nodded.

He grabbed your wrists tight above your head, pressing his body against you, eyes level with your own. "Okay, get out."

You struggled against him, the heat of his body flowing though you. All you could focus on was his fingers wrapped around your skin, his lips inches from your own. Time seemed to slow, you watched deep breaths escaping from his lips, his breath hot against your skin. Your heart began to pound in your chest, your own breath hitching.

He tightened his grip on your wrists, looking down at you with a dark expression, "Come on, you need to try harder than that."

You wanted to stay like this forever, his hands on you, your bodies pressed against each other. You could barely will yourself to struggle against him, a mixture of exhaustion and neediness for him to stay touching you combining. You lifted your body back from the wall, pushing against him, trying to find some traction. He used his own hip to push you back, his crotch now pressed against you, your whole body unwinding at the feeling. It took everything in you to not let out a moan, tightening your jaw to keep yourself quiet. Dean looked down at you again, his eyes flicking over your body, before he pulled back, letting go and causing your arms to go slack down next to you.

"Right I-" he caught his breath, "I think that's probably- maybe we should try to sleep again-"

Your body ached. Ached for the bed. Ached for him. You wanted to reach out, to touch him-

He grabbed your arm, looking you in the eye as he spoke steadily, "We've got this, give it ten minutes and you'll be fast asleep, and if not come knock at my door and we'll keep training?"

You nodded, too exhausted to speak. He brought you into a hug, and you breathed him in deeply.

He slunk off out the room, leaving you by yourself. You stripped off your clothes, once again finding yourself in your underwear desperately climbing under the covers, shutting your eyes and willing yourself to sleep.

Dean pushed his body against yours, hands tightening around your wrists above your head. You blinked hard adjusting to the situation. His knuckles went white as he gripped onto you, letting out a low growl, "Ohhh baby, you have to try harder than that."

"Dean I-" you pulled against his wrists, desperate to wriggle free, his tight grip unrelenting. This wasn't training, this was something different. He grinned at you, his eyes flashing black, sending a chill through you, before turning back to their usual green. "-Dean please."

He loosened his grip on you, but kept you there, his lips inches from your own, his eyes flicking over your face, "Come on, you love this, don't act like this isn't turning you on."

You let out a low whine, you couldn't deny his words. He pressed his body against yours and pressed his lips to your ear, whispering, "You want this don't you?"

You let out another whine, his lips lazily finding your jaw, kissing along it heavily. He let go of your wrists, his hands immediately flying to grab your hips, keeping you pressed against the wall. His mouth found your neck, sucking and nipping at your skin, a deep vibration stuck in his throat. "I'm not gonna do anything unless you tell me you want it."

Your hands combed through the back of his hair, pressing him into you, the feeling of his lips on your skin flowing through you. "I want it- I want you."

He dug his fingers deep into your hip, "You're so fucking needy aren't you?"

You moaned as his mouth found your collarbone. He stepped back as he tugged at the bottom of your shirt, pulling it over your head in one swift motion, his hands back on you in an instant. You sunk into the feeling, your desperation growing, the strange mix of dream and reality overtaking your body, desperate to cum, for him to make you. "Dean-"

He smiled into your skin, a sinister grin at his own name, "You have to tell me what you want, go on sweetheart."

"Please, touch me-"

He let out a slight chuckle, tugging at your pants, as you, in turn, pulled his shirt over his head. His hand dove into your underwear, already soaked, his fingers roughly thrusting into you, "God you're such a slut."

This wasn't your Dean, the way he spoke, the things he said, you knew that, but you also knew in this dream world you couldn't care less. You let out another moan at his words, spreading your legs slightly to give him better access to your pussy.

His face turned darker at the sight of you undone below him, his jaw clenched. He circled your clit with his fingers, and smiled as you let out another desperate moan. You felt your orgasm rising and bit your lip to hold back even more sounds, your hips bucking against him.

He used his other hand to grab you forcefully, bruising your skin. He added another finger to your pussy, filling you with his long digits. He watched you carefully, pushing you to the edge. Just as you felt yourself about to become undone, he pulled his fingers out, causing you to desperately whine for him.

He let out another laugh at the sight, "I said I wasn't going to give you anything unless you tell me you want it. So darlin' what do you want?"

"Fuck me, please- I need you-!"

He unbuckled his pants and pulled his cock out, pumping it in his hand as he watched you beg for him.

"Please-"

He pushed himself into you, slamming his body against yours. You let out a sharp gasp, the sudden feeling of him inside you sending a jolt through your whole body. He stretched you out, a low hum of pain as you adjusted to his size. His hand found your neck, wrapping around your throat as you let out another moan. He began to thrust into you harder, desperate to fill you, to feel every inch of you.

"You're so fucking tight-" he pushed himself deeper, "Such a dirty fucking bitch-"

You whined into him as he began to push harder, both of your orgasms beginning to rise.

"What is it you want? You want to cum for me like the filthy slut you are?"

"Please I-"

He pounded hard into you, "Tell me what you want."

"I want to cum, please Dean I need to-"

He kept thrusting, harder and harder, pounding into you. Pounding. Pounding.

Pounding at the motel door brought you back to reality, your sheets covered in sweat, your body still exhausted. In your half dream state you arose, making your way towards the door and opening it to find Dean on the other side. His shirtless body was glistening with sweat, his face ragged with tiredness.

"It's not beer or whatever I said- my dreams- it's been you-"

You looked back, dumbfounded.

"It's been you- us- the whole time. We were in the shower, I was fucking you I-"

You blinked hard, still not able to speak.

"-and then we were in the car-"

"and then it was in the bed together, last night." Now it was his turn to be dumbfounded. He stopped talking as you took over. "And then, just now- you were you but not you -"

"We've been having the same dreams- I- fuck-" he crashed his lips into yours, desperate to taste you, the real you. It felt like fireworks filling you, your exhaustion melting off your body. Your hands found his face, holding him close to you, combing through his hair, holding his cheek. His own hands found your neck, then your shoulder, then your thigh, needy hands grabbing at your body. Finally he settled on your hip, holding you close against him. This was nothing like the dream version of him had just been, no toughness, just gentle, firm hands, his thumb lightly rubbing at your hip. He was soft, and comforting, warm.

"Dean I-" you didn't know what you wanted to say as you separated his lips from his, perhaps you wanted confirmation that your dreams had truly been alike, but he cut you off, his lips back on yours. He couldn't stand the idea of not kissing you, the thoughts of his own dreams filling his mind, your hands on him, on his cock, of it inside you.

He lowered his mouth to your neck, kissing you, breathing you in. One of his hands came up to your chest, tugging at your bra, lightly grabbing your tit, your nipple pinched between his fingers. You let out another gasp at the feeling, electricity filling your body.

He let himself pull back slightly for a moment, catching his breath, needy and wanting ,"Please Y/N I- I need you, please-"

You pulled him towards the bed, both of you collapsing in a pile, his body above you, skin against skin. You both messily tugged at each others clothes, Dean letting out a careful chuckle as he tried to untangle himself from his own underwear. He aligned himself back above you, his cock in his hand as he glided his tip through your wet folds. You let out a moan and he let out a gutteral hum at the feeling.

"Are you sure?" He murmured as he dipped his mouth back against your neck.

You nodded into him, letting out another moan as a response. He pulled back to you look at you, "Seriously, is this okay? Is this-"

You cut him off, one hand cupping his cheek, the other finding his back, "Yes Dean- yes."

He pushed into you, quickly but carefully, watching your expression to make sure you were okay. You sighed into him, the feeling of him finally inside you almost too much to bare, your hands finding purchase on his back, pulling him closer. He began to thrust into you, slowly pushing himself deeper, his hot breath against your skin. You moaned at the feeling, both of your gasps filling the silence in the room.

"God you feel," he thrusted with the words, "so good."

"Dean-" you cooed into him.

He began to speed up, grabbing your hips tightly as he pulled you into him, desperate now for you. "Sweetheart I need- god I need to cum so bad."

You held on for a moment, focusing on your own pleasure, letting it rise in you as he continued to thrust. He clenched his jaw hard as he tried to stave off his own orgasm, watching you carefully. Right when you felt like you were about to break you let out a desperate gasp, pulling him close to you, "I'm ready-"

He let out a loud groan as he came, your own orgasm rolling through you at the same time. He held you tightly, both your bodies on fire as his thrusting slowed, finally getting the release you'd both been desperately seeking. You let out a loud moan at the feeling, your aching muscles unwinding, your head clearing. He pulled out carefully, rolling next to you on the bed.

Both of you sighed deeply, the feeling of the sheets soft against your skin, panting filling the air. He pulled himself up on the bed, letting your head rest on his chest as you both composed yourself. His hand gently stroked through your hair as he kissed your forehead lightly.

You lay like that for only moments before you both drifted off, finally content.

[vanillabat99]

I am this 🤏 close to just ghosting all of my doctors and rotting away in my bed. They don't help me and I've been feeling worse and it's like I'm right back to where I was like 5 years ago and I can't stand it.

[arcadequeerz]

hi everyone how we doing.

[reraen]

But apparently people aren't as dedicated as I am when it comes to go looking for shit huh like wtf. "Oops. Out of sight out of mind!" Idk I think that shit is weak as fuck. If you care enough, you'd go find it yourself esp if you already know that it's out there. Nah. Miss me with that shit. "Oh I couldn't find it!" Fucking try????? For my faves, I comb thru literally everything to see if I missed anything. I don't go "Oh no I'm following all these people and didn't see!" I legit don't get the logic behind that at all.

Honestly I've had to deal w/ too many demerits building up over the months man. I had several people go "send me ur stuff. I miss it easily cuz the algorithm!" And like I send it, but sometimes they don't show their appreciation on the post itself???? Or like they straight up tell me they don't want to support my art anywhere else but in the dms LMAO. I even had someone go "please let me color this!" But they didn't even interact with the post itself????? I'm like???? What are you trying to do here????? WHERE ARE UR MANNERS?????

And the shitty part is some of these bitches are artists themselves so it's like??????? I know for a fact you know how it feels and yet you pull this crap on me????

I talked abt it already but the whole "I'll follow you just so I can gain clout but 4 u I'm not gonna do shit back" LMAOOO. Like?????? That's legit so fucking shitty. Like what sort of message is that supposed to tell me. "Ur work isn't cute enough to be on my page. I need to keep it pretty and clean."

And like. Oh my god. I am. So tired. I am. I literally. Just give me decent human interaction PLEASE FOR ONCE IN MY LIFE. Like I have some. But like the people who make me go ?????? Is too many for my disabled ass and I'm really tired.

[kkusuka]

i would love to be john price's (141's) little bird.

(afab reader, you're lowkey a housewife, g/n pronouns, this was also a lot longer than i meant it to be-1.2k words- and i also wrote it entirely in class)

part 2

just the cute little thing he comes home to after long missions; ready to give him anything he needs to fully enjoy his time at home. barefoot and wide-eyed waiting for your bear of a husband to return from his long hard mission, keeping him fed and fucked as much as he needs. and he just loves you so much-- so much that he needs to show everyone how good you are for him.

it's not like he sets out to rub it in, but when his sergeant mentions not having anyone waiting for him at home-- john just can’t help but invite him over, you always talk about how much you love taking care of him, adding another man shouldn't be a problem! and what kind of captain would he be if he didn't take care of his subordinates?

and you aren't complaining! you love when john lets you see into his job! and gaz is just so sweet, saying please and thank you, offering to help clean the dishes, and politely refusing any leftovers even when you all know he has no food to go back to. so, you just have to keep inviting him over, night after night. and he's so good at conversations, even when he and your husband talk with all their military jargon, he makes sure you understand all of it; you just want to keep him in your house forever! so you kind of do…

you can't imagine making him go all the way home to his cold and dark apartment, it's so far and you know he's tired from his month of constant action-- so suddenly kyle has a bedroom set up right next to yours (close enough to hear how john thanks you for being so good to his sergeant, and just maybe a hand goes down below his waistband) a fully stocked bathroom and a place to put his shoes when you all come back your occasion dinners out. (they're dates, you don't think it but they do)

but kyle is not a man so stay silent about his blessings. you're too nice, too pretty to not tell soap about-- and trust john isn't going to complain, and he knows that you won’t either. 'the best roast i think i've ever had' and 'knows exactly how to make a man feel at home' and soap is not one to stray from his desires.

so you end up with your boys, and a bubbling scotsman in your dinning room with no warning. and you're upset, no one told you that you had to make more food and now there isn't enough to give everyone your usual heaping portion- and there is no way you're letting anyone go hungry in your home!

so you end up bouncing around the kitchen, trying to whip something up before the main course finishes in the oven and who but soap offers to help you out! he's got a hand on you at all times (two on your waist when you're chopping the onion, he just wouldn't know what to do with himself if you got hurt making him dinner. so he has to hold you steady, he has to run his hands over your hips keep you stabilized-- don't think too much into it, just stay focused on chopping bonnie)

and soap knows that he can talk for hours, but he can't help it when your eyes light up when he mentions his childhood in scotland and his missions around the world. and your small flinch and frown when he talks about getting hurt. their lass just can't help but worry about them. he just can't stay away from his captains sweet bird-- not when you send him off with a steaming pile of leftovers and a tight hug (pressed against him as hard as you can because you don’t want him to go)

johnny, a man to brag, never shuts up about how it took kyle three months to get a room but it only took him two. (sometimes when he comes back from the bathroom in the morning he can see into your room as you're getting ready. and he doesn't mean to do it but your panties are his favorite shade of blue and they look so amazing on you-- he wants to see them up close so bad.)

and so he tells ghost of all his troubles- unasked and randomly the next time they got sent out. and does ghost really care about johnny's playground crush on their captains bird? yes. how had he been left the only one not getting home cooked meals after being sent out? is he going to say anything about it?

not a chance.

so it takes a little while before the final place at your dinner table to be filled. but after a particularly grueling mission (and already wishing to come over), ghost is finally convinced he belongs with the rest of his team.

and you've never been happier to make extra food; you've been hearing for months about the illusive fourth man of your husband's battalion but having him stand in your kitchen with a cute little store bought dessert was certainly worth the wait. ( 'Ah didnae ken ye liked pink that much, lt' 'it was all they 'ad, can't show up empty 'anded, johnny')

and is he a little awkward and standoffish, of course-- years of military pressure will do that to a man!

and simon is just too sweet, even if he doesn't know it. he's pulling your chair out for you, and running out in the rain to collect the mail that you'd forgotten all about. he even lets you drag him to the grocery store during your weekly trips. (it's not dragging, he'd follow you into the pits of hell if you'd asked him too so the grocery store is really not a big deal.)

everything is just so perfect when all of your the boys are all in the house together!

and suddenly everything in life makes sense again. that plate that you can never reach on the highest shelf in the kitchen, a body is pressed against you as simon leans over you to grab it leaving you with a squeeze to your hip and red face. the gossip that your husband just never understood in the way he should is studently being told to kyle over coffee every morning as your other boys roll out of bed. the soap opera that you rope johnny into watching every thursday night becomes facemasks and wine time.

and john just loves it. he just loves you so much; loves the way you smile at kyles flirting, loves how you cuddle up to johnny on the couch, loves how you let simon hold you so close when you make his tea in the morning, and he just loves teasing you about it. (teasing? yes. making you face the fact that you want your husbands men to run a train on you like a whore. also yes.)

i wanna keep going but i have to let it end at some point

[digitald0rk]

CHERRY BOMB

pairing : mark grayson x fem! reader [ implied childhood friends ]. synopsis : he's whipped — more than the cream on your milkshake. warnings : kinda suggestive. like one swear word. w.c : 2.0k. a/n : i cannot stick to a theme >:( taglist : @vm4879bb-blog @fairii-majii @rayaaa4444 @hihowyoudoin00 @hepdeerness @wadehowl3tt

this is pathetic.

he is pathetic.

william was showing him a song from some new band he discovered and all mark can think about is how this song reminds him of you.

his muse, his reason for living. his heart, it beats for you but it also aches — longs for you like no other. oh how he wishes you'd take the pain away and maybe kiss his heart better, like you kissed his small injuries better when you both were children.

he can't stop thinking about how he'd love to slow dance with you to this song, he's not the best dancer — he'll probably end up stepping on your foot, but if it makes you laugh, he'd make a fool out of himself every time, just to see your lips curl up into that beautiful smile and hear the sweet sound of your laughter again and again, the thought makes him smile out of nowhere, making william roll his eyes fondly.

“you with me lover boy?”

right, even william knows, but it's not because he's his best friend, hell almost everyone knows, it would be hard not to with the way his eyes go all soft, slowly blinking— pupils turning into hearts and a soft smile tugs at his lips at the mere mention of your name.

he's so far gone for you.

“what- yes ‘course i’m with you,” he clears his throat, lying through his teeth.

“and i’m not gay.”

it can’t be that obvious, surely.

he hears his phone buzz with the ringtone he’s set for you and immediately reaches for it, grinning like an idiot — a very lovesick one at that, happy you’ve agreed on going to the newly opened cafe with him.

it really is that obvious huh?

he's trying not to run his hand through his hair for the nth time as he waits for you nervously at the cafe, this isn't even a date — he would probably pass out from his nerves alone if it was.

he straightens up when he smells your perfume, the scent lingering in the air, ah hear you come. he quickly glances at his phone screen, making sure his hair isn't a mess or anything.

“hi,” you greet him, your voice — a melody he's grown incredibly fond of, it's something that has helped him so much when he was at rock bottom, it brings him unimaginable joy, yet it also sometimes makes him want to rip his ears off — that sweet voice of yours is also pure torture everytime he realizes he can't have you, he can't possibly risk your precious friendship, that's selfish. and he tries to convince himself everyday that he isn't selfish, but he's not so sure anymore.

“you okay?” oh right he hasn't responded yet, too busy staring at your face, the one he wants to kiss all over.

“yeah sorry . . . just you know,” he leans in, heartbeat increasing, “had another bad guy to take care of,” he whispers, eyes darting to your lips for a split second.

he shouldn't have done that.

not because you're one of his best friends, no, but because now he can't get the thought of pressing his lips against yours out of his head.

although he'd argue he'd end up thinking about that one way or the other.

“ah i see, hope it didn't tire you out too much”

“nah i’m good,” he flashes you a small smile, a kiss from you would be nice though, he thinks.

as you two decide what to order, his gaze keeps drifting to you — the way the light plays across your features, the subtle furrow of your brows as you contemplate what sweet treat to order, eyes focused on the menu unlike him.

and then a strand of your hair falls out of place right on your face. just great, now he has to hold himself back from tucking it behind your ear. it's like the universe is torturing him, but he'll take any of this torture as long as you promise to remain by his side, as long as you're here, he's happy.

he's too busy daydreaming about you so when the waiter asks for his order it takes him a while to snap back to his senses, quickly saying the name of the first thing his eyes land on.

“matcha?” you ask a little surprised as the waiter heads off to get your orders going.

he doesn't like matcha.

“uh yeah, thought i’d give it a try again, give it another chance” maybe you should give him a chance too.

okay he's getting a little carried away, but he can't really help himself. not when it comes to you.

as conversation flows easily between you two — packed with familiar banter, teasing and inside jokes, a warm fuzzy feeling settles inside his chest curling up around his heart, his heart overflowing with love for you.

but will you ever know the extent of his love?

he'd rather not think about that bitter thought while you're excitedly rambling about some new show you watched — god you're adorable, he wants to keep you in his pocket. he's all smiles and giggles, a soft flush adorning his cheeks which can be chalked up to the warm weather but, he knows better.

and maybe you should know better too and then kiss him.

he really wants to kiss you.

the softness in his eyes quickly disappears the second the waiter comes back with your drinks and food, muttering some flirty remark towards you.

his gaze bores holes into the back of the waiter's head, eyes only leaving him when he's out of his sight. he knows he has no right — you're not even his, but he can't bear the thought of you being with someone else, it makes him sick.

“go on, try it. i wanna see the look of pure disgust on your face,” you chuckle, taking a sip of your sweet strawberry milkshake.

oh right the matcha.

he gulps nervously, taking a small sip of his matcha, immediately regretting it, mark has always been expressive and by the looks of it, you were right.

“good?” you jokingly ask. he huffs amusedly, “so good,” he says sarcastically, playing along.

he's thankful you ordered him a piece of his favorite type of cake without him asking, you know him so well — or maybe you don't, considering you don't know how he'd give up everything he has just to be with you.

“this is really good,” he says absentmindedly as he savors the taste of the sweet treat, hands itching to wipe the small amount of whipped cream on the corner of your lips.

“really? can i have a bite?” 

a bite? you've got to be joking. you know you can have the whole thing right? you can have him — his soul that he's sure is intertwined with yours with the way his chest aches when you're not around and his heart, it's already yours. it's always been yours, was never his to begin with. you can have the world, he'd give it to you to the best of his ability, but sure you can take a bite.

he can't stop himself from smiling when he sees you enjoying a piece from his cake, he wants to see you happy, always. he doesn't like when you get sad, especially when he gets hurt, he always feels so guilty afterwards.

you even feed him a generous spoonful of your cake, which he happily accepts. he wonders if the other people in this cafe think you two are a couple — the thought makes him awfully giddy.

the matcha grows on him, or maybe it's the fact your presence alone is enough to distract him to down the whole thing easily.

“you want my cherry?” you ask, already plucking it from on top of the whipped cream on your milkshake, he doesn't protest against your offer, instead boldly leans in — hoping you'll feed it to him.

and you do, his lips brush ever so slightly against your fingers but it's enough to send a shiver down his spine.

the action is oddly intimate, especially with the way you're holding his gaze as he eats the sweet cherry, his body feels like it's on fire.

what kind of foreplay is this? he's gotta ask william.

“thanks,” he manages to mutter out, his voice cracking slightly.

he watches as you finish your milkshake, lips wrapped around the straw-

woah not there mark! he holds his thoughts back from straying into that direction as he finishes his remaining food.

he sheepishly tells you about the whipped cream around the corner of your lips, handing you a tissue — he wants to wipe it off with his thumb, well he really wants to kiss it but he's not that bold. although sometimes he wishes he was.

but then maybe you two wouldn't have gotten this close to begin with — so he'll be himself, the mark you know, hoping one day he works up the courage to earn the right to shower you with all the affection and love in the world.

he smugly grins when you try to pay at the counter and then come to know he's already paid in advance.

“mark.”

“you can pay next time.”

“that's what you always say!”

“hm do i?” he makes a show of thinking long and hard, rubbing his chin and all as he gets a coffee for william — as he'd insisted mark get him something from the recently opened cafe in the area.

the conversation and shared laughter dies down as you two make your way out, it's time to leave and part ways, mark has been dreading this the second he got here.

don't leave me.

his chest tightens with unspoken words and affection when you bid him goodbye, with a hug. he doesn't want to pull away — arms lingering around for awhile even when you start pulling away.

don't go. please.

even though the words remain unspoken —  his eyes speak volumes, even the feelings he's too scared to utter out loud.

and as the wind blows, rustling your hair — you look back at him one last time with that damn smile, he hopes the next time you two are together, it ends with you not leaving but instead in his arms, where you belong.

or well at least where he thinks you belong — he's getting ahead of himself again isn't he?

he smiles back although it doesn't quite reach his eyes, watching you walk away until you're out of his sight.

and now he's left there alone. he ends up taking a sip from the coffee to distract himself but it's bitter — almost bitter like the thought of never having you, never having you as his.

he sighs, god he's hopeless. better get back to william’s before his coffee gets all cold.

“you look like someone just drained the life out of you,” william teases him as mark hands him the coffee that's still somewhat warm, “don't tell me a vampire attacked you,” he jokes but mark’s mind is somewhere else — you.

he already misses you.

“quit moping around and spill the tea already,” william groans playfully, feigning annoyance as he sips on his coffee.

“i’m such an idiot.”

“tell me something new mark.”

“not helping.”

william scoots his chair closer to mark on the bed, “did you mess up?”

“no, i don't think so.”

“the why do you look like a sad kicked puppy?”

“i’ll never have-”

“oh my god not this again,” william sighs loudly, “we've been through this likea gazillion times mark.”

“what kind of foreplay is cherry eating?”

william almost spits out his coffee. “i beg your finest fucking pardon?”

and as mark rambles about you, reliving the memories of you sure makes him shy and giddy — he tells his best friend, “she asked if i wanted her cherry, and-”

“oh you do, real bad,” william snickers knowingly in a suggestive tone which makes mark pause and raise a brow.

“oh my god you are so dense, and you missed the perfect opportunity to flirt,” william rubs his temples like an overworked stressed parent.

“how did you know i want-”

oh.

that kind of cherry.

“william!” mark is quick to throw a pillow at his friend — embarrassed and cheeks starting to heat up, a blush creeping up his neck.

“oof,” william lets out a surprised noise, “hey you're not denying it,” he teases — earning another smack with a pillow from the half viltrumite.

“shut up.”

“you're still not denying the idea, real subtle there.” 

“i hate you.”

© digitald0rk 2025. do not steal, repost or translate any of my work. want more? click here ★

[lokissweater]

“i would never lie to you.”

{toge inumaki x f!reader}

summary: inumaki’s always coming home to you from missions coughing up mass amounts of blood and completely overdoing it while fighting curses with his cursed speech technique. and no matter how many times you tell him to be careful, he just doesn’t, arguing with him, giving him the cold shoulder, and completely unaware of the reason behind why he fights so hard when he’s out there— that reason being of course… because of you.

warnings: angst, fluff, cursing, toge and reader have a lil argument but it’s more the aftermath, slight sexual mention but it’s literally once and nothing LOL, no smut!, toge thinks he’s not doing enough SNIFFF, angst with comfort, toge is DEVOTED to you, aged up characters, pet names, afab!reader.

word count: 2.3k

authors note: short n sweet one!! wanted to give you guys a break from my MLA format essays i always make y’all read LMFAOOO!! this one is SHO SOFT AHHHH :] i hope this keeps you guys fed in the meantime while i write the next one! i love you and i love you all ALWAYS MWAAHH <33

————————————————————————

toge inumaki hates it when you don’t talk to him.

as if he doesn’t do that enough already, toge absolutely despises when you both get into arguments or heated discussions and you turn a cold shoulder to him— needing space to unwind and prevent yourself from lashing out even more, to let the situation simmer down.

he understands it. believe him he does— you’re upset and angry and you need time to cool off… but toge is stubborn and needy and just doesn’t care, needing you and only you, him going absolutely crazy at the silence in your shared apartment that he was starting to hear random ringing in his ear drums.

so as he sat on the couch, eyes unblinking as they stared off into the darkness of the living room as the sun had already began to set, you upstairs locked away— he wanted nothing more than to open his mouth and let his cursed speech force you to come downstairs and talk to him.

but he didn’t, though the thought was definitely tempting, as toge vowed the day that he laid eyes on you to never ever use his cursed technique on you, even if it was harmless, an oath he wanted to carry with him until his very death bed and until he was six feet under.

his ears perked up then at the quiet sounds of the upstairs room door knob twisting and clicking open, soft padded footsteps making their way down the hall and closer to where he was, feet sticking against the cold tiles of the kitchen floor.

at the sight of you with your hair a little disheveled, your eyes so red and puffy, and an arm wrapped around yourself as you rummaged through the fridge looking for fuck knows what and not sparing a single glance at him— toge felt like a fifty pound gutting weight was resting on his chest and crushing his heart.

you had both argued about something you always seemed to circle back to almost every week. but this time, you were sick and tired and fed up, seeing as toge was never going to try and understand the situation at hand through your worried eyes.

every time toge was out for a mission, you would spend your days anxiously throwing yourself over the couch or trying to keep yourself busy with random activities like baking or scrapbooking (which you deemed later meaningless), all within the sole purpose of trying to get your mind off of your boyfriend and the recklessness he always seemed to pull while on missions, regardless of how much you begged and pleaded with him to be more careful and aware of his health.

toge inumaki had such a powerful and lethal cursed technique that frightened and astonished you all at the same time, a conflicting feeling to have when he had to leave you in the middle of the night or during the early hours of the morning to run around and fight curses… but always coming home to you warm and loving and safe.

but not right now.

not when toge had literally come home this morning with not even two steps in the door and he was already on his knees, coughing up strings and loads of crimson blood, it pooling on the floor as he had used his cursed speech to the highest degree today and had you a crying mess thinking he was dying.

and he always did that. always. today was just the worst of them all, him without a fault coming home with excruciating pain in his bruised and clawed up throat, the cough syrup medicine he usually downed like water having absolutely no effect anymore as you scrambled around every time trying to find a solution, toge brushing off your distressed and frightened rambling as if his health wasn’t a big deal, and as if how much it affected you wasn’t a big deal either.

upon you closing the fridge, toge slowly stood from the couch and carefully walked over to you, his throat still in pieces but his mind lurching and guilty over how upset you were at him.

he slowly raised a gentle hand and placed it on your shoulder, you shaking your head somberly in response— your back to him.

“i don’t wanna talk right now toge i’m sorry…” you mumbled, rubbing over your tired sore eyes.

he squeezed your shoulder, insisting.

but you only shook your head again.

toge huffed and placed both hands on your shoulders this time, physically turning you around to face him— his eyes soft and his eyebrows pinched together in pure concern for you.

you peeked up reluctantly, but the sight of his face and the events from earlier flashing through your mind only made your bottom lip wobble and the bottom of your palms shoot up to dig into your eyes, more stinging tears flooding in and slipping through the corners of your closed lids.

his heart fucking broke.

“why don’t you care toge?” you hiccuped. “i worry myself sick every time you leave for a mission and— and that’s fine because it’s what you do but you never take care of yourself!”

he gently pried your shaking hands away from your eyes and wiped your tears softly with his thumbs, caressing your cheeks after— wishing so badly, more than anything in this fucking world, to just be able to speak to you like a normal human being instead of resorting to words scrambled on a piece of paper or text messages on a screen.

he gently placed a little timid peck to your nose before releasing your face and fumbling around in his pockets for his phone, tapping it awake once he retrieved it and opening his notes app to write out a sentence.

he flipped and faced the screen towards you, the brightness making you squint a bit.

“i do care i swear. i just always forget when i’m in the middle of it and i’m sorry baby.”

“so you keep forgetting after what feels like the fifteenth time i’ve told you?” you wiped more tears from your cheeks. “how— how do you think it makes me feel when you come home and you’re coughing up blood all over your clothes and the furniture huh? all over me?”

he sighed softly through his nose and went to type again, but you continued.

“i get scared toge that one day you’ll push yourself way too far and then you just won’t come home. you scare me when you cough up so much blood like that!—”

toge tugged you in then with his unoccupied hand and wrapped his arms around you, pushing your head in and stuffing your face against his chest— the scent of his freshly washed t-shirt filling your nose as you cried softly.

fuck he felt like such a douche.

he typed for a moment behind your head, a pit in his stomach that only grew in size the longer he heard your little sniffles.

toge pulled back a bit, his arms still keeping you in place but just enough so that he could lower his phone and show you his message.

“please please don’t cry. i’m really sorry okay i really am and honest to god this won’t happen again.”

you nodded meekly and he flipped his phone back, quickly typing again and showing you once he finished.

“i feel like you think i don’t care but that’s not true at all. part of the reason why i try so hard when i work is because the more curses i fuck up the safer you’ll be when you’re out there without me.”

you laughed a bit at his wording, and he beamed at that, typing.

“i love you pretty girl. and im sorry i always get blood everywhere.”

“oh i don’t care about the mess baby, i care about youu,” you whined lightly and wrapped your arms around his torso, pulling him in tight.

“and i love you too, a lot… like an embarrassing amount that strips away my dignity.”

he chuckled boyishly and pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, his body stuttering slightly as a single thought grazed his mind— the same thought that’s been in the crevices of his brain since he asked you to be his.

you felt his tension and pulled back.

“what?”

toge bit the inside of his cheek and looked down at you, his weight shifting as he contemplated telling you something he didn’t want to burden or upset you with, the pad of his thumb softly rubbing over your chubby cheek.

you quirked an eyebrow. “what? are you cheating on me?”

he burst out laughing and shook his head, kissing your forehead before dropping his hand from your cheek and pulling out his phone again.

he typed for a minute then showed you.

“me not being able to speak to you like a normal boyfriend should or respond to you whenever makes me freaking useless. so i push myself out there to keep you safe because that’s literally the least i can do for you, since i can’t even do the bare minimum.”

you gasped softly. “toge huh? this is—”

he shook his head once more and you stopped as he typed again.

“i always try to make you laugh with the things that i do or whenever i text you because i’m afraid that one day you’ll get tired of me not being able to talk to you and you’ll leave. which is also something i would never blame you for and understand.”

your heart squeezed in the worst excruciatingly way possible, completely baffled and mortified to the fact that toge was thinking about things like this and wholeheartedly believing it without you noticing or him saying anything to you about it.

he typed again.

“that’s why i cosplay as gojo when i leave for missions and come back a dumbass with blood in my mouth. that’s why i forget when you tell me to be careful because the need to be something for you is way fucking greater.”

“togeee!” you sobbed, bursting out crying like a little baby as you were moved and haunted by his words simultaneously, your arms engulfing him as he desperately shot his hands out and quickly wiped your tears again, shaking his head frantically as if pleading with you not to cry.

“how could you ever believe that?” you nudged him away and hiccuped, your eyes serious. “why haven’t you told me about this? everything you just said is literally propaganda.”

he chuckled, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced.

“toge, why do you think i’ve been with you for so long? do you think i’m just dicking around?”

“dicking around on my dick?”

you swatted his phone away. “no! not right now.”

you both shared a small giggle, twinkling eyes looking at each other.

“if i felt like you weren’t doing even the bare minimum, i would’ve been gone before you had the chance to put this ring on—”

his gaze drifted down to the black shiny heart promise ring on your ring finger that you held up for him, and he smiled softly.

“baby what you do for me everyday is above and beyond the bare minimum. i’m happy. i’m so happy to be with you that you not doing enough has never crossed my mind and it never will.”

you slid your arms around his neck and pulled him down a little, gently. “i’ve never cared about your ability to speak. i fell in love with you, who you are, and the fact that i did without you having to iterate words to me? olympic sport.”

toge rolled his eyes playfully at your comment, and you stood on your tippy toes and kissed the tip of his pretty nose then. “all men do when they talk is lie anyways…” you tilted your head. “but i know you’ll never lie to me.”

“never.” he mouthed silently.

he bundled you up in his arms and lifted you like you were nothing, him carefully leaning in and pressing his lips to yours as if you were a fragile little thing— kissing you so devotedly, warmly, his forehead resting against yours once he pulled apart after greedily getting his daily fix of you.

“i know your job as a jujutsu sorcerer pays the bills and comes with you putting yourself in difficult situations… and my job doesn’t even compare, but please don’t overdo it for my sake. i want you to come home, okay?”

you know it’s selfish… he should be saving lives no matter the cost.

but he was your man. was it so bad to just want to keep him for the rest of your days? to get the chance to grow old with him, and buy a little quiet house on the country side like you always joked about in the late hours of the night with him? drinking cool glasses of lemonade on the porch?

“please don’t always be the hero.” you whispered guiltily. “but if you must… just keep me in mind while you do it.”

you’re always on his mind. he hopes you know that.

toge breathed softly through his nose and smoothly set you back down, the pads of your feet making contact with the icy tile flooring as his hands dragged up from around your waist to the sides of your head, him pushing a hard kiss to your cheek as if to seal your request.

“do you promise?” you mumbled.

he pulled back and held his little pinky out for you, and you giggled, linking yours with his firmly.

“you can’t go back on it okay? you used your pinky it’s legally binding!” you warned, a silly smile on your face. “don’t lie to me and break it.”

toge grinned and leaned towards you as he bent down a bit— your gaze locking with his as he looked at you at eye level with his hands on his knees, him mouthing his next words, slowly.

words that made your cheeks buzz a cutesy pink, words that he took seriously, and words that tied you to him and the little house by the countryside he wanted so badly with you, as those words solidified how much he truly truly loved you— him hoping you always knew.

“i would never lie to you.” he mouthed.

taglist!! <33: @saebaey

[angelltheninth]

Now that Devil May Cry is out may I request some head canons about riding Dante? Pretty please?

You can always make DMC requests from me!

Pairing: Dante Sparda x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, cock riding, praise, clit stimulation, teasing, Dante being Dante

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: I don't really care if people hate the Netflix anime, I love it. I want a season 2 right now.

the type of guy who would buy you a cowboy hat when you say you want to ride his cock

you don't have to wear the hat when you're riding him but he thinks it adds to the fun

a very touchy guy, he can never keep his hands to himself

Dante refuses to keep his hands away from your clit when you're having sex, it is a magical pleasure button after all, so even if you're doing most of the moving he still wants to give himself something to do

slaps your ass a lot, more often with just one hand but sometimes with both and always grabs you where he slapped, especially when he knows you're still sensitive

if you get tired he will lift your legs up, his arms below your knees and fingers interlocked with yours, before he starts hammering his cock into your sensitive wet hole

very chatty and will always tell you how much he's enjoying himself, or how hypnotized he is by the view of your pussy swallowing his hard cock, your pussy making his white pubic hair wet with it's slick, the slapping, lewd noise that your pussy makes when you lower yourself on him over and over

grins up at you and gives you a thumbs up when you make him come while riding him

when he wants you to ride him he will sit on the bed, pat his thighs and tell you to get on, and yes, he will absolutely also say yee-haw

has condoms in lots of different colors to make things more fun when he has to watch his cock go in and out of you

one interesting thing that he likes is to fuck you from behind but then he will stop, leave just the tip of his cock inside of you, feeling your pussy tighten, trying to pull him back in but he won't move

instead he tells you to ride his cock from this position

as much as he loves getting ridden he is still Dante at the end of the way, so of course he will find a way to be a cocky bastard about it

not like you didn't know that before you started dating, now your sex life is that much more fun, for having Dante there

[stargirlygirl]

imagine long-term bf katsuki being hung up on what engagement ring to buy you. he’s gnawing at his cheeks, constantly sighing and running his fingers through his hair for a couple of months, trying to find a ring that’s good enough for you.

after patrol, he browses every reputable jewellery store in tokyo, searching for your engagement ring. he takes pictures of every one he thinks might suit you and sends them to eijiro.

shitty hair: idk about this one man. diamonds are nice but y/n gives more garnet or ruby vibes

explosive: the fuck you mean? i have to get her diamonds

shitty hair: nah bro, you should get something that suits her. not every girl wants diamonds.

explosive: stfu i know what she wants better than you do

shitty hair: 🤷‍♂️ just my opinion man

you noticed immediately that katsuki was coming home later than he usually does. you didn’t say anything at first because maybe something came up, and he did seem really exhausted.

but as weeks turn into months, you become suspicious. what is it that your boyfriend's doing after work that you can’t know about. he hasn’t changed how he treats you. if anything, he’s been even softer and sweeter with you lately.

you decide to confront him about it.

you sit at the kitchen table, waiting for him to come home. as 8pm fades into 10pm and drips into 12am, your anxiety ramps up. your palms are all sweaty and your heart beats erratically in your chest.

you’re on your feet as soon as the lock eventually clicks and the front door is forced open. you stalk up to a sleepy katsuki, who flings his duffel bag on the floor with a sigh.

when he turns around, you’re looking at him angrier than ever. there’s fire in your eyes as you stare up at him, your brows knitted together and jaw tight.

you spit out, “where have you been?” katsuki blinks slowly, too tired to register your words and respond. he moves to throw his arms around you, but you step back, dodging his embrace.

this time, you repeat yourself with more venom, “where have you been?” you sigh, “i’ve been waiting for you since eight.”

he grunts thickly, “why’d you stay up, babe?” you roll your eyes and slightly suck in your cheeks.

you say exasperatedly, “because i was worried about you. you’ve been coming home late from work for the last two months now.” you fold your arms beneath your chest as you scold him, “so where have you been?! seriously, like, where the fuck have you been wandering off to while i make you dinner and do your laundry?”

katsuki shakes his head, whispering, “baby, s’not like that.”

you catch his words and scoff, “so then, what is it like? i clearly don’t know so why don’t you tell me?”

his full lips draw into a hard line as he huffs, contemplating whether to tell you he’s been hunting for the perfect engagement ring for his perfect girl… and that he’s finally found one. it wasn’t easy, especially since he has just put up with yappertron 3000 chargebolt, skateboard freak elbows, and shitty hair for the past three hours while acquiring this ring.

he bites his tongue, mumbling, “look, i’ve just been busy, yea?”

you chuckle derisively, “you’ve been busy? right, okay.” you turn around and begin walking away from him when he catches your elbow. his grip is firm but considerate.

he tugs you back, making you stumble into his chest. you try to shove him away, but he doesn’t even budge as he draws you into his arms, wrapping you up tightly.

you shout, “just fuck off, katsuki!”

wincing, he rests his chin on the top of your head and murmurs, “no more late nights, baby, i promise. at least not for a while.” his body is so warm against yours, and his musk is so strong. you give up your assault on his concealed but delicious muscles and still in his grasp.

you grumble, “it’s not about the late nights, katsuki. it’s about you keeping things from me.” he kisses the top of your head and rubs circles on your back with his calloused palms.

he mutters into your hair, “i’ll tell you soon, okay?” you shake your head before tilting it back, returning his soft gaze with your harsher one.

you murmur, “so you’re not cheating on me? or are you cheating on me but intend to come clean?” your boyfriend’s mouth falls open as he stares at you, his blond brows raised slightly. regaining his composure, his usual scowl is back on his face.

he grumbles, “cheating? why the fuck would i be cheating on you?!” he licks his lips and gazes past you for a moment, sighing, “for fuck’s sake, babe. god, why the fuck would i be cheating on you? d’you really think i’m a cheater?!” you shake your head, taken aback by his sudden frustration.

he shouts, “I’VE NEVER CHEATED! NEVER! NOT LIKE FUCK-ASS DEKU WHO DIDN’T EVEN HAVE A QUIRK AND THEN—”

you gently pat his chest as you try to soothe him, “okay, okay, honey, it’s okay. i know you’re not a cheater.” after a few minutes, he calms down (for the most part).

he grunts, “d’you really think i’d do that?” a droplet of his spit hits your eyebrow. you go to wipe it away but he beats you to it, apologising all the while. you reassure him it's okay as you stroke his well-defined back up and down.

you say softly, “of course not. but if you’re not cheating on me, then what else are you doing? i just don’t understand, suki.” he shakes his head before settling back into the crook of your neck; his resting place.

he murmurs into your hot flesh, “just give me a few days n’ i’ll tell you, alright?” you pull back, cupping his cheeks with your hands while his fingers clench the back of your shirt.

you shake your head, saying, “you can tell me now.”

he huffs, “babe—”

“no,” you cut him off. “tell me now. i deserve to know why you’ve been coming home so late.” he gazes down momentarily as his fingers curl into your shirt even more, close to tearing the fabric with how tight his grip is.

he mumbles, “stubborn brat.”

it’s like something snaps. he releases your shirt from his killer grasp and smirks. he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a velvety red, ring box.

he grabs your wrist and places it in your palm, saying, “that’s the reason.” he gazes at you expectantly, waiting for you to open the box. but you’re in shock.

your wide eyes bore into his narrow ones as you blink dumbly. your lips are slightly parted, open enough for the flies to make a home in your mouth. and they could with how little you’re registering right now. you can’t think or speak or move. all you know is that your long-term partner just placed a ring box in your hand.

katsuki rolls his eyes, attempting to hide the pain in his expression as you continue staring at him. he huffs, “well, are you gonna open it or not?”

you nod, your mouth awfully dry. you seal your lips as you shakily open the box. inside is the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. leaves protrude from the band and petals encircle a bright ruby glistening in the golden living room light; a rose. your gaze flickers up to him before switching back to the ring, and then back up to him.

you stutter, “a-are y-you, u-um, a-ask-asking m-me t-too—”

“yes,” he says solemnly. “you’re everything to me, baby. s-so, yea, will you be my wife?” you nod furiously. smirking, he takes the little box from your hand and slips the ring onto your finger. all the tension pent up in his body dissipates as he embraces you once more.

you squeeze his slutty waist tight as you begin tearing up, trying to process that your boyfriend just became your fiancé. katsuki sweetly kisses your forehead before resting his against yours.

he mutters, “i don’t tell you how much i love you enough. clearly like fuck. i fuckin’ love you, baby girl. more than you’ll ever know.”

a/n: link to the engagement ring design here (please lmk if it doesn't work); just imagine that it's a ruby and not a diamond.

[mercvry-glow]

you, me, and empty space between us

parings. jack abbot x doctor!reader

warnings. widower!jack, age gap as always (jack late 40s, reader late 20s early 30s), jack literally talks reader off the ledge, undefined relationship but they're clearly in love and going through something, unspecified mental health issues, panic attacks, possible suicidal ideation, talks of losing people, bittersweet ending though.

notes. ever since we learned jack was a widower i've been cursed with angsty thoughts. I think this one is really hard as we see both the reader and jack struggle with each other. I love them your honor, and I'm really in my noah kahan loneliness era for this man. as always any feedback is appreciated and I love all of you!

wc. 2700+

You don’t know when it had become so hard to breathe.

It wasn’t after the first patient death, or even the fourth or fifth. That was just life in the Pitt, and you had grown accustomed to it long ago… at least that’s what you thought.

It certainly wasn’t when he had walked in—Jack Abbot, all swagger and scruff, fresh on shift while you were finishing yours. You truly don’t know when you came to love him as more than a mentor. Maybe it was in the quiet, exhausted nights on his couch, or the rare mornings when your coffee mugs clinked in place of words.

Never open, always tucked away.

And maybe that’s why it hits you like a punch to the chest—because it’s something so small, something that you have no business caring about.

A glint of gold as he reaches for his first chart of the night.

His wedding band.

Still there. Still shining. Still hers.

And your breath just… goes. Like someone pulled the air from your lungs and replaced it with something heavy and wet and cruel.

You don’t even remember walking to the lockers. Just the click of the door behind you, the fluorescent lights buzzing too loud, and the burn behind your eyes as your hands shook, held tight against your sides. Everything became too much all at once. 

God, you're so tired.

Tired of the codes and the screaming and the silence that follows. Tired of watching children and parents die and pretending you’re not breaking a little more each time. Tired of watching your friends break each and every day more and more as this job steals their youth like it’s doing to yours. Tired of giving your heart to a man who, no matter how gently he touches you, will never touch you like you’re loved by him.

Not like he touched her.

You don't even cry. Not at first. You just run up the stairs, heart hammering like it's trying to escape, destination both known and unknown to your frazzled brain. Then you do cry—loud, ugly, shoulder-shaking sobs that don't stop. Not even when someone passes. Not even when your pager buzzes again.

You make it up to the roof before anyone sees you.

The cold Pittsburgh wind bites at your cheeks, but at least here, you can breathe again. 

Kind of.

 You wrap your arms around yourself, eyes burning as you stare out over the city like it's supposed to give you some kind of answer.

But it doesn't.

It never does.

You’re not even sure how long you’ve been up here.

The city stretches out below, distant and indifferent—cars moving like blood cells in some great, uncaring artery. You’ve spent your whole life trying to keep things alive, and now, standing here, arms wrapped around yourself in the wind, you’re not sure how to keep yourself going.

It’s not just Jack.

 It’s everything.

You’re tired in your bones. In your soul, if that’s a thing people really have.

Tired of the endless codes that ring like alarms in your dreams. Tired of holding hands that go cold while families scream down the hall. Tired of smiling when you’re empty. Laughing when your throat aches from swallowing everything you can’t say.

Tired of being second. 

To a memory. 

To a career.

 To a system that chews you up and spits you back out with new scars and fewer tears left to give.

You love your job. God, you do. But lately it feels like it’s eating you alive. And no one sees it. No one wants to see it.  Because you're the one who keeps it together. The calm in the storm. The smile at the desk. The one who always says, “I’m fine. Go. I’ve got this.”

But you don’t.

You don’t got this. Not anymore

You’re drowning.

And Jack—Jack is just the wound you thought you could bandage, only to realize it was deeper than you ever let yourself admit.

You see the way he softens when he talks about her, the few times you got to hear. 

The weight in his voice when he says her name.

And you? You’re the comfort. The quiet. The body he falls into when his ghosts get too loud, too much to handle alone.

But not the one he chooses.

Never the one he chooses.

A sob claws its way up your throat, and this time you don’t stop it. You sink, knees scraped by the roof's edge, standing past the metal railing and let it all go—the grief, the love, the years of being almost enough in every aspect of your life.

You cry until you’re raw. Until your breath hitches like a broken record.

Until you feel like there’s nothing left inside you. 

And still, the world keeps turning. The city lights don’t flicker. The wind doesn’t pause.

You are so deeply, achingly alone.

And in this moment, you don't even want to be saved. You just want to rest. 

To be done. 

“You know,” comes a familiar voice behind you, easy and low, “if you wanted to get me alone on the rooftop , all you had to do was ask. I would’ve brought you coffee.”

You flinch. Just barely. But he sees it.

Jack steps closer, hands tucked in his cargo pockets like he’s just wandered up here on a whim, not after checking every paitent room and hallway trying to find you. There’s that half-smile tugging at his mouth, the one he uses like armor—dry wit and soft hazel eyes, his whole coping mechanism wrapped in a single expression.

But the smile falters when you don’t answer.

When he really looks at you.

You’re standing with your hands pulled to your chest, fingers white-knuckled in your scrubs, eyes red and swollen. Shoulders shaking just enough to make him stop in his tracks after realizing you’re past the guard rail. 

“Hey,” he says again, quieter this time. “What happened?”

You shake your head. A tiny, useless motion. You can't even bring yourself to look at him, back still turned.

He steps toward you, trying to search your face. “Talk to me. Did something happen with a patient? Was it that kid from earlier? Or—”

“No,” you whisper, barely audible. “It’s nothing.”

“That,” he says, voice a touch sharper, “is a lie. And a bad one, kid.”

You let out a bitter little laugh that turns into another sob. “Everything’s just… too much.”

Jack doesn’t speak right away. Just watches you, the tension in his jaw building slowly. “You’re scaring me,” he admits, quietly.

“Fuck,” you snap through the tears. “Now you actually see me?.”

That stuns him. You can sense it—how his shoulders tighten, how his eyes scanning like they’ve missed something right in front of them.

You wobble, or try to move—your knees tremble under you, and Jack moves instantly, hands ready to grab you. 

You pull away.

“I’m tired, Jack,” you say, voice breaking. “So goddamn tired. Of being here. Of being overworked. Of watching people die. Of pretending I don’t care that you still wear her ring when you’re in my bed.”

Silence slams between you.

He swallows hard, words clearly stuck in his throat.

“I know she meant everything to you,” you say, softer now. “And I would never try to take her place. But it’s killing me. Being your person… Being the one you come to… but never for.”

His mouth opens, then closes again.

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “And look, now I’m making my issues about you again. God, I’m tired of that too.”

Jack steps forward, hesitant, like he’s approaching something fragile. Or dangerous. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

“I didn’t want to make it real,” you whisper. “Because if I said it out loud, I’d have to admit that I’m not okay. That this job—this place—you—are breaking me.”

He’s quiet for a long time. The wind whistles around you both, cold and uncaring.

“I didn’t know,” he finally says. “I should’ve. But I didn’t. And I’m sorry.”

You look up at him, exhausted and open and completely undone. “I don’t want you to say sorry. I just… I wanted to matter.”

“You do,” he says, quick and firm. “You matter to me,”

You shake your head again, biting back another sob.

He doesn’t try to touch you this time. He just stands there in the silence you’ve created, eyes on yours like they’re the only thing he sees now.

And maybe—for the first time—they are.

Jack exhales slowly, like he’s trying to steady his own heart before he reaches for yours.

“You wanna know something?” he says, his voice rough but quiet. “First week I met you, I thought you weren’t cut out for this. All business, too rigid, straight spine, soft. Honestly? Scared the hell out of me, I thought you’d be gone by the end of the week.”

You huff, tired, but something like a breath of a laugh escapes you.

“But then you stayed two hours after your shift because a twelve-year-old was afraid of needles,” he continues. “And I saw it. That heart of yours—the one you hide behind clipped words and all that damn competence. You care so much it hurts you.”

He pauses, lets that sink in. You turn your face slightly toward him, just enough for him to see your profile in the wind.

“I know you think nobody sees you,” Jack says. “That you’re just some extra in other people’s stories. But I see you. I always see you.”

Your lips part, but no words come.

“You’re the one holding the line when everyone else is cracking. You’re the one who stays up on nights like this, falling apart where no one can find you. But I found you. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He steps forward again, slowly, cautiously. Like he’s giving you every chance to step back under the rails and hoping you don’t choose the other way down.

“I don’t wear this ring because I’m not over her,” he says, tugging at the band absently. “I wear it because she made me better. And you… you keep me better.”

That stops your breath cold.

“I never meant to make you feel like you were just something temporary,” he says. “You’re not. Not to me.”

“Then why not just say it?” you choke, voice trembling.

He looks at you like he wants to. Like the words are right there on his tongue—but something stops him. Not fear. Not doubt. Just the weight of everything this moment holds.

“I’m saying what I can,” he says instead. “Until I can say it all.”

He steps closer, right in front of you now, eyes searching yours.

“You matter, okay? Not just as my best resident. Not just as a damn good doctor. You matter to me. You’re not alone in this. Even if you feel like you are.”

Silence again. Heavy, but different this time.

“I don’t know what happens next,” he adds, quieter now. “But I know I don’t want to face it without you.”

You feel something give inside you—something that’s been clinging to the edge for weeks, maybe months. You don’t fall apart again, not this time. But you do lean forward. Just a little. Just enough.

Jack reaches out to touch you, wanting to pull you in. Standing right there on the other side of the guard rails, steady as gravity.

 Letting you decide.

You stand there for a second, barely breathing. His words echo in your chest, ringing against all the places that have been cracked and hollowed out.

You matter to me.

It shouldn't be enough. Not after all this. But somehow, it is. Or maybe it’s just enough to stop the bleeding.

Your shoulders slump as the tension you’ve carried finally starts to unwind. You don’t fall into him, not dramatically. You just… lean. Your forehead comes to rest against his chest, tentative, uncertain. But you stay there.

And Jack? He doesn’t hesitate.

His arms move around you with a kind of quiet reverence—gentle but solid, like he’s anchoring you to the hospital roof. One hand settles between your shoulder blades, the other against the back of your head, cradling you like he’s afraid you’ll break again.

“You scared the shit out of me,” he murmurs against your hair.

“I scared myself,” you whisper back, voice hoarse.

“You could’ve told me,” he says, not accusing—just brokenhearted.

“I didn’t know how,” you admit. “I thought if I said it out loud, I’d lose everything and never come back together.”

Jack pulls back just enough to look at you. His thumb brushes gently along your wind bitten cheeks, catching a stray tear you didn’t even feel fall.

“You are coming back together,” he says, firm but soft. “Right now. Piece by piece. You’re still here. That’s what matters.”

You nod, barely, like you’re still trying to believe him.

“I don’t need you to be okay all the time,” he continues. “You don’t have to be strong for anyone. You get to fall apart. You get to feel this.”

“But what if it doesn’t stop?” you whisper, voice cracking. “What if it just keeps coming?”

“Then we’ll face it together,” he says, without missing a beat. “Shift by shift. day by day. As long as it takes.”

Your eyes search his, and for once, there’s no hiding behind sarcasm or guarded silences. Just truth. And maybe something deeper behind it—something he’s still not quite ready to name, but it’s there. Burning steady like a soft fire.

You close your eyes, letting yourself rest in the warmth of him, in the safety of this rooftop moment.

And for the first time in weeks—maybe longer—you take a full, deep breath.

You both stand like that for a long time—no words, just breath and heartbeat and wind. The hum of the city below feels miles away, like a different world. Up here, it's just the two of you.

Eventually, Jack shifts a little, his arms still around you. His voice is soft, barely above the wind.

“Hey,” he says gently. “How about we get back on the safer side of the rail, yeah?”

You realize, with a sudden twist in your stomach, that you’re still on the wrong side. Still too close to the edge, with nothing but cold air and steel keeping you tethered.

You don’t move right away. Your fingers grip the rail, not because you want to jump—God, no—but because the world still feels unsteady. Like if you let go, you might float off into something you can't control.

Jack doesn’t rush you.

He stays with you, warm and steady at your side, hands never leaving you. “One step,” he says softly. “Just one. I’ve got you.”

You look at him, and there’s nothing performative in his expression. No pity. No fear. Just calm, unwavering care.

You nod once. Then slowly, carefully, you swing your leg over the first bar. He helps you the rest of the way, hands guiding you gently, like you’re something precious. When both feet land solidly on the rooftop again, you don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until it finally releases in a shaky exhale.

“There you go,” he murmurs. “Safe and sound. Mostly.”

You laugh, barely. “I must look like a mess.”

“You look like someone who’s been through hell,” Jack says. “And is still standing. That’s not a mess. That’s a goddamn miracle.”

You look up at him, eyes glassy, and something flickers between you. Quiet. Heavy. Unspoken.

His hand lifts slowly, brushing a strand of hair from your face, then lingering—fingertips grazing your jaw, gentle as rain. He looks at you like he’s trying to memorize the moment.

“Can I…” he starts, then stops, catching himself. “I’m not asking to fix it. I just—”

You answer by leaning in.

It’s not rushed. Not desperate. Just soft. Slow. Like an exhale. Like the kind of kiss that says I’m still here. I still want this.

His lips meet yours, warm and steady, one hand still at your waist, the other against your cheek. There’s no fire in it—not tonight. Just light. Just steady comfort.

When you pull back, your forehead rests against his, both of you breathing a little easier now.

“You sure about this?” you whisper.

Jack doesn’t even blink. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m sure.”

You nod. You believe him. And for the first time in what feels like forever, you believe in yourself again, too.

mercvry-glow 2025

[tbaluver]

When You're Pregnant- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader, Caleb x Reader

genre: fluff fluff

a/n: let me know if you want more! any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Finding out you were pregnant was one of the best news he's ever gotten in his life. He was determined to be there, every step of the way. He becomes way overprotective over you as your maternity passes by. He would always be close to your side, terrified that if he leaves, he might lose you again.

He wouldn't let you do anything. Laundry? Nope you stay and rest! Grocery shopping? Nope give him the list of what you need. If he found you doing anything by yourself he would immediately step in and help or do it himself.

Whatever pregnancy cravings you want he would go out of his way to get it for you. He would also try it with you no matter how weird it was. He's more then happy to indulge on whatever you were eating

He’d wait until you go to sleep first, knowing how hard uncomfortable sleeping has gotten as your pregnancy progressed. He’d do everything he could to make sure you’re settled even if it meant giving you all his pillows and blankets just so you could rest more easily.

Endless shoulder, back, leg rubs to help sooth your tired and aching body. He can't imagine how tired you must be growing another human inside of you so he wants to take away an discomfort in any way he can.

Zayne:

He's a cardiac surgeon. He knows the anatomy and physiology of the human body. So he checks on you and your bump everyday to make sure everything is alright. At night he makes sure that you sleep in a correct and comfortable position.

Anything you crave he'll either cook for you or he'll pick up or buy. Whatever you need this man will do it all for you.

This man is always ready. He has all the medical dates and any important events written down in his schedule. He would have the best doctors to give you regular check ups, follow up tests, and even for ultrasounds. He would even have a bag packed ready for when your delivery arrives.

If anything felt wrong or you were anxious about anything, you would call him first before any of your doctors and he would immediately be on his way to you.

He would def have a folder of all the scans, tests, reports of all your baby stuff and keeps one in your shared bedroom and one copy in his office. Sometimes he'll go back and read the files and be nostalgic on how much weeks and months have passed by already.

He would have a week free in his schedule in case you deliver before or after the due date. So no surgeries or any meet up with any patients because all his time is yours.

Rafayel:

I think he would definitely be happy but deep down I think he would be nervous. You know this man is clingy but ever since you told him you were pregnant, anywhere you went he would be right beside you.

The more your bump starts showing, he would spend time out of his day talking to you and your baby. You two would spend so much time discussing names and plans for when the baby arrives. When your asleep, he would whisper quietly talking to the baby bump while basking in your beauty. He would fall asleep on your side for talking to the baby bump so late, one hand rested gently on your bump.

He would have an extra room ready for when the baby arrives. He would help pick out what furniture and what baby clothes to buy with you. He would tell you all the ideas of what he would paint for the walls for the baby room.

Bath time with him during this time is a lot more intimate. He would sit behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder while he caresses your bump

I def think this man would take pregnancy photo shoots or even paint you to capture the joy and anticipation. But no photo or painting can ever capture what beauty he truly sees in his eyes. He'll have an ultrasound picture in his wallet below a picture of you two and an extra empty space for when the child is born.

Sylus:

He would be by your side as much as he can. When you get morning sickness, he would immediately be by you, holding up your hair and rubbing your back. He would carry you back to bed and making you tea.

If you were to have any body aches and need a massage, he's already on it. He would have any ointments and anything you needed to feel comfortable or to ease any discomfort.

Although he wants to stay by your side at all times, he does have to work. This man is the Onychinus's Leader after all. He hates that he has to be so far away from you though. He'll try to stay in contact as much as he can. While he's away he'll have Luke and Kieran take care of things for you. He'll have Mephisto give him checkups if your asleep or taking naps. He'll hire a personal chef to cook you anything you want.

This man has all the money in the world. Whatever you want, you get it. You want this room to be the baby room? It's all yours. You want the whole floor to be the baby room? Say no more. Whatever baby furniture you look at, it's yours. Whatever color you want for the room, it's yours. And if you want it repainted for the 10th time, he'll make Luke and Kieran repaint it again and again.

If it were your 6th or 7th month into pregnancy you would tell him that you found out that babies in the womb can hear stuff outside. He would rest by your side, whispering things to the baby saying things like "Come out soon little one so you don't give mommy such a hard time in there." or "Maybe I should try to sing the baby a song." Which you immediately shut that idea down.

Caleb:

Caleb let out a tear or two or maybe more when he found out that you two were expecting and saw the positive pregnancy test as proof. He wrapped his arms around you ever so gently, careful not to hurt the little one growing inside of you. He would spin you around gently, showering your face with so many kisses and joy.

He would encourage you to take it easy and stay home during the early stages of your pregnancy. He would be so worried about your nausea and other symptoms, and his concern only grew when your pregnancy progressed. He’d remind you that he can support you all and that your job should be the least of your concerns.

Caleb is the type to hold your belly bump when it looks too heavy. If any walking distance, whether it was outside or around the house becomes too much for your feet, he’s quick to scoop you up and carry you. He’ll make sure to massage your feet later

Once you let him feel the baby kick, he’ll talk to your bump daily. “Hey little fella..let’s not kick mommy so hard okay?” He talks to you and the baby about his and your day and shares everything else he can. Many of his conversations with your bump include telling the baby how lucky they are to have the best momma in the world

Anything you want or wish for, you got it. Caleb doesn’t mind at all, honestly. He’s more than happy to help and do anything for you. As long as it’s good for you and the baby and doesn’t put either of you in danger.

The type to have the biggest smile on the ride to the shop and the ride home after baby or maternity shopping with you. Whether it’s baby clothes or toys, there’s just so much excitement bubbling inside him at the thought of meeting his little one so soon. A wave of nostalgia would also hit him when he sees familiar toys, the ones he used to play with you as kids, and the idea of your children playing with them makes his heart swell. He can’t wait to share countless stories and create many memories with them.

[aquarius-johnny]

I Hate You Too, Baby. | Jeong Jaehyun

genre: smut | word count: 7.9k | deadly sins series | m.list navi pairing: roommate! jaehyun x afab! reader warnings: dom! jaehyun, soft! jaehyun, light sugardaddy! jaehyun, reader is hœrny and implied to have a lot of fuck buddies, angry sex, jaehyun is kinda mean at first, reader also is kinda mean too at first, reader is also a brat, a lot of swearing, jaehyun is implied to have really bad communication skills, he’s down bad for the reader, face fucking, choking, spanking (if you squint), angry sex, overstimulation, oral (f! and m! receiving), p in v, protected sex (haven’t seen her in a while), smut, angst, fluff, smut, happy ending (literally in that order) summary: jaehyun is sick and tired of you fucking everyone but him and you finally push him to the edge, so he shows you he’s better than anyone else you’ve been with; however, he’s secretly in love with you, oops. | deadly sin: wrath a/n: the beginning starts off intense. reader calls jaehyun a virgin but it’s implied he most definitely is not one. mark is mentioned as jaehyun’s best friend.

⌞ pinterest board ⌝ ≫ concept photos

One year and three months. That’s how long you’ve known Jaehyun. In those fifteen months, you never once thought you’d be pressed up against his bedroom door, with one of his hands wrapped around your throat while his other hand is shoved down your dark blue satin shorts in the early hours of the morning, muttering explicit promises in your ear as you bite back any lewd sounds you so desperately want to make. 

One, because he was your stoic software developer roommate who paid you no attention while you two lived together and two, you’re convinced he absolutely hates you.

This is your fault — according to Jaehyun. You pulled his final straw when you chewed him out for being a complete jerk to one of your favorite hookups when all your hookup did was greet him before leaving for the night. 

“None of those guys can fuck you and I’m sick of hearing your fake ass pornographic noises when they’re here! Not only is it not convincing, but it’s fucking annoying too!” He angrily shouts at you, redness tinting his ears as he steps closer to you.

“Please!” You roll your eyes. “You don't think I know you listen when I have people over?” Stepping forward, you cross your arms. “Or when I play with myself? You don’t think I know how hard you come in the bathroom when you think about me? Honestly, Jaehyun,” you scoff. “It’s kinda pathetic. It’s like you’re a desperate virgin.” 

“Virgin?” He smirks at you, amused by your assumption. 

“Yes, virgin.” You let out through clenched teeth. “If you wanted me to fuck you, you could’ve just asked instead of hating me like some jealous ex-boyfriend.” 

Jaehyun pushes up the sleeves of his white button up shirt up to his elbows before he loosens his black tie, unable to rid himself of his work clothes before you jumped down his throat minutes after he walked into your shared apartment. His eyes darken as he makes his way towards you, closing the distance between your bodies. He lifts your chin with his long index finger to look him in the eyes.

“A virgin wouldn’t be able to make you come on the first try, right?” He backs you into a wall. “Now, what’s the excuse for those pathetic losers you keep bringing home? They can’t all be virgins. You’re defending them like they give you the best orgasm of your life and we both know they can’t even pull one out of you.” 

“Those are big words coming from you, roomie.” You spat sarcastically. “Like you can do any better.” 

“Is that an invitation?” Jaehyun dryly chuckles, pressing his hands flat against the wall behind you, a hand near each side of your head.

You so badly want to pull him into you. His pink, plumped lips are tempting and inviting as he licks them before taking his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Your words come out no louder than a whisper. “You’re full of shit, Jaehyun.” You silently curse to yourself for sounding so pathetic. 

“Aw,” Jaehyun laughs. “Not a big talker now, huh?” He teases, his index finger tracing the outline of your jawline before gripping it to force you to look into his eyes. “If you wanted me to fuck you, you could’ve just asked instead of being a brat about it.” He mocks your words, pushing his body away from you. He undoes his tie in front of you, before throwing the fabric over his shoulder. He turns to walk away, already unbuttoning his work shirt as he makes his way towards his bedroom — the bedroom absolutely no one was allowed in. You follow him, watching as he walks down the hallway. He stops under his door frame, feeling your eyes watching him.

“Anything else you want to say, you fucking brat?” He turns to face you, his shirt nearly fully unbuttoned, exposing his beautifully sculpted abdomen — something you secretly admired every time he chose to work out at home instead of going to the gym. 

“Yeah, I do.” You furrow your brows, making your way to him. “Are you scared to fuck me because you know you can’t live up to your own words?” The words coming out of your mouth are used to spite him and rile him up as pay back for the lack of attention for the past year. 

“Tell me to,” he towers over you, his aura so dominant he doesn’t even need to touch you to press you against the nearest wall. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.” 

Your heart races and a dry lump forms in the back of your throat. 

“Stop fucking with me and say it.” His fingers grip your waist, tightening his hold on you; nearly preventing you from running away from him. His jaw clenches, you watch it tighten as he impatiently waits for your permission. “Last chance. Say it or fuck off.” 

Your eyes widen at his ultimatum, your mouth working faster than your brain. “Fuck me,” you softly let out.

“Louder.” 

“Fuck me!” Your voice is clearer and louder, no mistaking what you just gave him permission to do.

Jaehyun roughly grabs your arm, pulling you into his bedroom before slamming his door shut and pushing you against the wooden frame. His lips target your neck first, attacking it with no remorse as he lifts your sweatshirt over your head and throws it across his bedroom floor. Sucking your skin into his mouth, he sucks hard, causing you to hiss at the tender spot. His hand absently kneads your exposed breasts, his fingers pillowing your supple skin. 

“Such a slut,” he harshly comments, his other hand gripping your ass hard, pulling your body closer to him. 

“I’m not a slut,” you faintly argue, your nails digging into his shoulder in response to how roughly he’s groping you and attacking your neck.

He simply hums at your feeble remark, his lips moving to the other side of your neck. You feel the same harsh movements, Jaehyun clearly wanting to leave marks on your body that’s apparent to anyone who looks at you. 

His hand slithers into your shorts, petting your slit with his long fingers over your white cotton underwear. The tip of his finger grazes your clit ever so gently, your body jerks in response. 

“A virgin wouldn’t find it on the first try, right?” He snickers, pushing your underwear to the side, giving himself access to your sopping folds.

“Shut - ah! - up,” you hitch, feeling Jaehyun’s fingers rub small circles on your bud of sensitive nerves. “It’s beginner's luck,” you retort sassily, sucking the air between your teeth when you feel him bite down on your shoulder.

The pain is exhilarating, never experiencing a partner as rough as the man in front of you. He’s hungry for you, desperate even. It’s clear when he pulls your lips into his; a deep groan leaving him as his lips finally meet yours. He circles his fingers before sliding it against your folds to collect your sweet arousal around his digit before using it to lubricate your clit.

His movements are gentle and slow, a stark difference from what he's doing to your exterior. He knew what he was doing and you’re certain he’s going to make you come within seconds if he continues his movements, making you eat your words about the virgin comments you insist on making. 

“You’re close, aren’t you?” He taunts, his lips hovering over yours, teasing the shit out of you. “Impressive for a virgin, don’t you think?” 

“Shut up,” you groan, your jaw falling open when you feel his finger tap against your clit, the stickiness of your arousal making the pad of his digits stick to your nub before allowing his digit to pull back. 

“What’s that?” He grins. “Not much of a talker now that you know I can make you come when I want to. Your pathetic fuck buddies can’t say the same, huh?”

“I hate you,” you let out before whimpering as he ghosts over your clit, his fingers barely grazing it.

Jaehyun smirks at your words. “I hate you too, baby.” His tongue rolls over your bottom lip, prying access to your mouth. You allow him to with no hesitation; the way he calls you baby nearly sends you over the edge. His voice is so deep, so cocky, so lustful — he has you in the palm of his hand. He pulls your shorts down in one swift move, leaving you in nothing but your white cotton underwear with a black little bow on the front. 

“Hm, cute.” He comments, head slightly tilting as his eyes scan your body. He pulls on your waistband before letting it go, allowing it to hit your skin. You jump at the sting, rolling your eyes while biting down on your bottom lip, trying to bite back the smile threatening to creep onto your face. 

“Done already?” You narrow your eyes, straightening your posture. “You just got me naked and now you’re giving up? At least my fuck buddies know to keep going when I’m in nothing but my underwear.” 

“God, you just don’t know how to shut the fuck up, don’t you?” He growls, his hand wraps around the base of your neck, his lips ghosting over your parted lips.

The corners of your mouth pull into a devilish smirk, the sight of your angry roommate soaking your white cotton panties. “Why don’t you fucking make me.” Your words come out lightly strangled, the grip around your neck tightening ever so slightly. 

His lips crash into yours, trapping your body against his. The heat of his body warms your bare chest, while he nips your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth.

He pushes you down by your shoulders, forcing you to your knees. You look up at him, eyelashes batting in innocence as you watch him undo his belt, then his pants, and pulling his erection from his underwear. 

His tip rests against your lips while his hand settles on the top of your head. You suppress the urge to take him into your mouth, although the idea of it makes you salivate. 

“Open,��� he commands. “You want me to make you shut up? I will. Now open.” 

Your sex flutters hearing his words, arousal slowly leaking out of you. If your panties weren’t soaking already, it is now. 

His voice is so deep and husky, you couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement in the pit of your stomach. 

You slowly part your mouth open, purposely teasing him. Jaehyun shoves his cock into you, stretching your mouth open. He fills your mouth perfectly, your mind racing at the idea of how it’ll feel inside of you. He doesn’t give you a second to adjust before he thrusts his hips into your mouth, feeling it in the back of your throat. 

“Anything else you wanna say?” He taunts, tilting your head back, forcing your eyes to meet with his as he looks down at you.

“No,” you attempt to say, only for your voice to muffle around his hardened length. Tears brim your waterline as you’re gagging before you blink, allowing them to trail down the sides of your face.

“You’re so pretty with my cock down your throat, you know that?” A smirk dances on his lips while his thumbs wipe away your tears. “I bet you haven’t gotten your mouth fucked before, huh?”

You shake your head, honest with your answer.

“Good,” he sneers. “You’ll never forget the first time.” He thrusts his hips into you, giving you no time to catch your breath. You’re gagging around him, drool dripping out of your mouth and onto the wooden floor. Looking up at him with wet lashes, you see he’s already watching you take him into his mouth — his jaw clenches before his mouth falls open and he throws his head back, reeling in the pure bliss your mouth is giving him. 

The pain in your jaw begins to settle as his movements don’t let up; however, you’re nothing but determined to make this man feel good — determined to never let him forget how much of a good fuck you are. 

Jaehyun withdraws his hips, pulling him out of your mouth and taking in the sight of the string of saliva that connects your lips with the head of his pulsing cock. You’re nearly gasping for air; coughing and panting as you try to catch your breath. 

“Had enough?” Jaehyun arrogantly questions, tilting your head up to look at him. 

“Y-you haven’t shown me you could make me come yet, you cocky asshole.” Your words would’ve hit harder if you weren’t gasping for air after taking Jaehyun’s cock into your mouth, both you and Jaehyun knew that. 

Jaehyun clicks his tongue, amused at your tenacity. “If I do, you know I won’t stop until you can’t come anymore right?” His warning only sparks your interest and continues to pool a wet spot in your underwear. 

“Sure, roomie.” You cough. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Jaehyun chuckles. “I did warn you,” he lets out before commanding you to get up. 

You do as he asks, feeling incredibly vulnerable as his eyes scan your nearly nude body — as if his eyes are analyzing and taking note of every detail your body offers. Goosebumps cover your skin when you feel his hands trace over your thighs, then up to your hips before settling on the base of your neck — it being his favorite spot on your body thus far. His grip tightens ever so slightly, using his leverage to guide you to his king sized bed behind him — something you arguably think is unnecessary for someone who constantly spends nights alone like he does. The back of your knees hit the edge of his mattress, causing you to fall on your back, slightly bouncing as your back hits his mattress. 

Propping yourself with your elbows, Jaehyun quickly rids you of the only fabric you have left on your body and throws it behind him. Your thighs close, a reflex of yours that causes annoyance. You feel a sting against your skin before feeling his calloused hands rub the same spot, soothing it before another slap in the same spot is heard. 

“Who said you could close your legs?” He scolds, prying your knees apart before quickly finding your clit again, circling over your sensitive nub. “You’re soaking,” Jaehyun purrs, causing a rush of heat to fill your body. “I wonder if those losers you keep around have gotten you this wet before.” 

You bite back your reply, knowing the answer will stroke Jaehyun’s already huge ego.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He laughs, picking up his pace.

“Shut up.” 

“Make me.” His added pressure on your clit causes you to gasp, hindering you helpless and in the most compromised position. “Oh wait, you can't?”

A whimper leaves your lips as you feel his fingers glide through your soaking folds with ease, circling your clit in the most satisfying and exciting way. His movements are consistent, so consistent it’s nastily pulling you closer to your release. It’s been less than five minutes since he’s been playing with your ball of nerves and you already feel the coil in you tighten and Jaehyun sees it. Your eyes shut as you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, your hands desperately tugging on the sheets under you, and your hips involuntarily moving against his fingers. 

“You’re close again, aren’t you?” He taunts.

You nod.

“Should I even let you?” He clicks his tongue although his movements don’t halt.

“P-please,” you beg, looking up at him with your brows knitted together, desperate to feel your orgasm wash over you. 

“See, baby, it’s not hard to be nice is it?” 

“C-can I come?” You stumble on your words, automatically asking for permission. Jaehyun’s expression shifts ever so slightly after hearing you beg. “Please,” you whine.

His eyes soften for a second before narrowing at the sight of you. “Come for me.”

Your back arches and a string of whimpers fill his room. Pure ecstasy overcomes you as you reel in the feeling of pleasure that Jaehyun gave you. 

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you feel his tongue against your clit, lapping over and sucking your overly sensitive bud. Your thighs quiver at the feeling, pushing yourself up the bed before you hear a frustrated grunt from Jaehyun who pins your hips down the mattress, trapping you in place.

This was your punishment. This is what he warned you about. He made you come and he’s not going to stop until you physically can’t anymore, or at least until he does. 

You nearly scream at the overstimulation, biting your lip so hard you’re certain you could taste your blood. You cry out his name, only to have him look up at you between your thighs, although his tongue doesn’t stray away from your heat. You could feel it, your second orgasm, inching closer and closer. 

Jaehyun’s hands grab your breast, kneading it as if his life depended on it and adding to your pleasure even more. He watches as you try to simultaneously hold back your tears while chasing your high. 

“I’m gonna come!” You sob, tears pricking the corners of your eyes — the feeling so intense and pleasurable you begin to feel a hint of lightheadedness as incoherent noises stumble out of your mouth. Your stomach tightens and you feel your release hit you tenfold. 

You watch Jaehyun through half lidded eyes. Without missing a beat, he pulls out a condom from his bedside table and rolls it onto his erection before aligning himself with your entrance, your body still recovering from the back to back orgasms this man has given you. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” Jaehyun chuckles devilishly. “You wanted me to fuck you.” 

You sheepishly nod your head, trying to move past the mental fog you’re feeling. 

Grazing his tip against your folds, you hear the squelching sounds as he teases your already sensitive clit with his shaft and sends jolts of electricity through you. 

“But this position won’t do,” he says, head tilted a bit to the right. “Turn over, ass up.” 

You struggle to gather your bearings, but you still obey his command. Positioning yourself on your hands and knees, you nervously biting down on your bottom lip as you turn your head to watch him. 

He’s stroking himself, eyeing your movements while admiring your ass — something he’s been secretly eyeing for a while now. You feel a dip in the bed before a hand harshly pushes your head into the mattress while the other pushes down on your lower back, helping you arch your back to his liking. 

In one swift and quick move, Jaehyun sinks himself into you. Your jaw falls open, nearly drooling from the stretch and pleasure you’re feeling as he fills you up nicely. 

“Fuck, you’re still tight.” Jaehyun groans. “Even after coming twice.” 

“Y-you’re just too big,” you whimper, cheek pressed against his sheets, as your fingers rake over the fabric covering his mattress. 

“Don’t flatter me, baby girl,” Jaehyun hums. “It’s not going to stop me from fucking you stupid just like you wanted.”

Rutting his hips harshly, you hear his skin slapping yours. His fingers rake against your ass cheeks, his moans growing louder and louder as he fucks you from behind. He pushes up against you with each thrust causing you to bury your face into the mattress in an attempt to muffle the explicit noises you’re making.

Jaehyun tangles his fingers into the roots of your hair and harshly tugs on it, forcing your back to press up against his chest. The sting causes you to hiss in pleasure just before Jaehyun’s hips move erratically. 

“F-fuck!” You wail as your eyes roll back from pleasure. 

“Enjoying yourself?” He rasps in your ear, feeling a smile against your skin. “I’m better than those losers you let fuck you, right?”

“D-don’t ruin it,” you growl. 

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Fucking say it.” His fingers find their way to your clit again, mercilessly and messily rubbing against you. You nearly fall forward from the pleasure until Jaehyun’s free arm tightly holds you against him, sweat forming between your bodies. “Do you want to come?”

You nod your head. “Please,” you pant.

“Then say I’m better than those losers.”

“Jaehyun!” You sob, feeling your body quiver as your pleasure builds in you, your cunt dripping your arousal. 

“I know you’re close. I can feel it.”

“Let me, p-please!”

“Not until you say it.” 

You give in, frantically repeating the words he wants to hear over and over again. “You’re better than anyone I’ve had, now please,” you gasp. “Let me come, please!”

“Go ahead, baby. Come all over my cock.”

Your walls flutter around his length, your body freezing in place as Jaehyun fucks you through your orgasm. Your muscles tenses and your back arches as you come undone under his touch. 

“Good girl,” Jaehyun coos, placing soft kisses against your shoulder. “Now do it again.”

Your jaw falls open, Jaehyun’s cock throbbing inside of you as he warms his shaft between your walls. His fingers roughly move side to side against your clit. Your vision begins to blur, your body trembling and nearly going limp at the overstimulation. There’s something about the pain that is deliciously riveting, especially when you’ve never experienced it like this before. Your attempt to push Jaehyun’s hand away fails when the arm holding you up grips your wrist, hindering your movements. 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god!” You chant, your knees bucking as you're pushed to the edge. Your gummy walls convulse and tighten as you come all over Jaehyun’s cock. You scream out in pleasure, tears falling from your eyes. You’re panting, muscles in your body turning into jello as Jaehyun slowly releases his hold on you. You fall onto your stomach, completely and utterly fucked out. 

“Turn over,” Jaehyun softly orders and you comply, slowly. Mustering any energy you have left, you lay on your back. Jaehyun watches you catch your breath, his hand carefully soothing your quivering thighs. 

“Do you want to stop?” He asks, concerned.

“N-not until you come,” you softly reply, your voice hitching before you gulp. “I want you to come, too.”

He simply nods. Aligning with your entrance again, he hovers over you, and your sweet cunt swallows him fully as he stuffs himself into you. 

You take note of his lack of eye contact with you and instead, opting to bury his face into your neck as he sensually moves his hips into you. 

You stroke the back of his head with your fingers, your legs wrapping around him to keep him close to you. This is what you wanted for the past fifteen months. You wanted to be under him, giving you everything his body can offer you. You wanted him; you needed him.  

Jaehyun lifts his head and flickers between your eyes, softening at the sight of you. His hips slow, biting his bottom lip with hesitation. 

“W-what’s wrong?” You ask, your brows curve with worry as you bring your finger to move the strand of fallen hair from his eye.

He grabs your wrist, halting your movements. Burying his face into the crook of your neck once more, he breathes against your skin. “I want you.” He mutters. “I hate the idea of someone else fucking you.”

You stay silent sitting with the confession coming out of his mouth.

“Tell me what I need to do to have you all to myself.” He pushes into you harshly. His fingers gripping onto your hips for dear life.

“You can take me out to dinner or to a movie,” you smile against the shell of his ear. “Maybe even buy me a Cartier love bracelet to show me you’re serious.” You giggle. “And tell me why you want me.” 

You feel him grin, his movements speeding up. The feeling of his pelvis hitting against your clit. His tongue laps over your skin, giving you a small bite before his arms wrap under your back, arching you closer to him. His tip kisses that sensitive spot inside you, rubbing it as he penetrates into you feverishly.

“Jaehyun,” you whine. “G-gonna come, again.” 

He takes your words as an invitation to keep going, eventually pulling your orgasm out of you right before he finishes himself off into the rubber wrapped around his shaft. 

You’re both heaving, catching your breath. The sun rays peak through Jaehyun’s bedroom window, coloring his walls with an orange tint. 

Jaehyun pulls out of you, shyly avoiding eye contact with you as he tosses his used condom in the bin next to his bedside table. He throws on his favorite joggers and you do the same, hastily dressing yourself with your clothes from earlier.

“Did you mean what you said? About wanting me, I mean.” You softly question as his back faces you. 

“Yeah, I did.” His voice is quiet, almost embarrassed that this was his way of confessing his feelings — when he was balls deep inside of you; arguably not the most romantic way to be confessed to. 

“Can I ask why? I mean, why do you want me? It seems like you have hated me since I moved in.” 

Jaehyun turns to you, moving his lips to say something, but is not able to have anything come out. He steps forward, only to halt, letting silence fall between you two. 

“Is it so you can fuck me whenever you want?” Your voice drips with disappointment, silently hoping that wasn’t the case. 

“No! No it’s not that.”

“Can you tell me why?” 

“I’m not - I mean, I can’t -“

You shake your head, disappointed at the man in front of you. “I have to get ready for work.”

“Wait! Please.” His hand grabs your arm, stopping you from walking out his bedroom door. 

“Jaehyun,” you sigh. “Telling me you simply want me isn’t enough; anyone can just say that. I know communication isn’t your strongest skill, I get that, but until you can at least communicate to me why you want me, I don’t think I can be what you want me to be.”

Heaviness fills both your hearts as you say your words. Tears brim from Jaehyun’s eyes, before he sharply inhales as he lets your arm go. 

You give him a second to gather the courage to tell you how he truly feels about you, but he doesn’t; sinking your heart to the pit of your stomach. 

“I need to get ready for work,” you whisper, salty tears threatening to fall from your eyes. 

Jaehyun doesn’t stop you. Instead, he closes the door behind you as you walk out, clutching his chest in hopes to ease the pain he desperately wanted to avoid. After mentally beating himself up for being unable to simply tell you how he feels, he grabs his phone to text his best friend. 

jaehyun: come over, i need your help.

“What did you need help with at 7 in the morning?” Mark yawns, walking through Jaehyun’s front door 

“Y/n and I, we…” Jaehyun starts, only to stop and timidly look down at his bare feet, sliding his hands into the pockets of his pants and biting back a smile only to have his dimples betray him.

“Oh my god, you two finally did it.” Mark looks at his best friend with shock that quickly turns into happiness. “Dude,” he lifts his hand to cup Jaehyun’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Congrats!”

“It’s complicated,” Jaehyun lets out, popping the bubble of bliss that radiates through the room.

“Uh-oh.” Mark drops his hand before crossing his arms. “What happened?”

“It started off as hate sex, I guess you can say,” Jaehyun shares, ears burning red as he tells his friend about his sex life. 

“Oh?” Mark smiles. “Well, I guess that’s a way to do it.”

Jaehyun shakes his head before explaining the situation he’s in, everything you told him before leaving for work. “I need help to prove to her I’m serious about her.”

They both make their way over to the living room couch, Jaehyun desperately needing his best friend’s help.

“Ever thought of just using your words to tell her?” Mark offers, slightly annoyed at being woken up early on his off day from work. 

Jaehyun clicks his tongue. “I don’t want to say something dumb and ruin everything. You know I'm not good with my words. She knows I’m not good with communication, she said so herself. I’m working on it,” Jaehyun sighs. “I have some things I want to do for her. I just need help with a few of those things. Please.”

“Fine,” Mark huffs in defeat, standing from his seat and clapping his hands together. “Where do we start?”

You drag your feet from the elevator to your front door, dreading walking into your apartment and facing your roommate after everything that happened this morning. Your hands tremble as you push your keys into the lock and your heart rapidly increases as you hear the front door unlock with the turn of your key.

You’re greeted with Jaehyun sitting at the dining table that’s visible as you enter the apartment. He quickly slips his phone in the pocket of his pants, before quickly meeting you at the front door. 

“Hey,” he softly greets, taking the bags from your hand and placing them on the side table near the entrance as you take off your shoes. “How was your day?”

“Tiring,” you sigh. Your eyes meet his before you both look away from each other. “How was yours?”

“Busy,” he nods, taking your jacket and throwing it on the coat rack. “I know you’re tired, but could you, um,” he pauses. “Change into something comfortable and meet me in my room? I have something to show you.”

It’s clear he’s nervous and you could feel your heartstrings tug for your roommate.

“Sure.” You flash him a weak smile and see his tense shoulders relax. You walk into your bedroom, changing out of your work clothes and into an oversized sweatshirt with pajama shorts before walking down the hallway and knocking on Jaehyun’s bedroom door. You quickly shove the memories of the morning to the back of your mind. 

The door opens, Jaehyun already looking down nervously.

Your mouth parts before a gasp leaves your lips as you see what he’s done to his bedroom. Red rose petals are scattered over Jaehyun’s bedroom floor and over his bed. He’s rearranged his bedroom, pushing his bed to a corner of his room and leaving more space between his bed and the dresser that had his tv on it. Three blu rays of your favorite horror movies are stacked on each other as they sit on his dresser and a set of plates are strategically placed on his bed. From where you stand, you make out that it’s your favorite food from a local restaurant that you absolutely love.

“Jae -” you’re cut off with Jaehyun’s words.

“I would’ve taken you out to a movie and dinner, but I didn’t know how you’d feel when you got home, so I thought we could have our, uh, our first date here.” His hand rubs the nape of his neck and the other gestures over the picturesque layout in front of you. “I hope that’s okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you smile. “That’s okay. But um,” you shake your head to collect your train of thought. “Why here and not in the living room?” 

“I don’t have women come into my bedroom at all and I guess I wanted you to be the first one.” His eyes finally meet yours and are filled with hope. “Hopefully the last one, too.”

You giggle, stepping towards the tv and picking up the blu rays. “My favorite movies,” you smile. “How’d you know?”

Shutting the door, he takes pride in himself as he hears your words. “I notice you watch them a lot, like at least those three once a month. So, I took a stab in the dark and bought those three.” He moves next to you. “Which one do you want to watch tonight?”

Biting down on your bottom lip, you contemplate his question. “Maybe this,” you say lifting The Grudge blu ray. 

He nods his head, opening the case and setting it up as you place yourself on his bed with your back against the wall. You lift the plate of food in front of you, smelling the aroma of your favorite dish that fills the room. He joins you on the bed after turning off the overhead lights. 

“I hope I got your order right,” he smiles.

“You did!” You praise, excitedly.

Throughout the movie, you occasionally catch Jaehyun looking at you before shyly turning his attention back to the movie. Sliding your fingers into the palm of his hand, you slowly interlock them with his, physically feeling him tense up before relaxing when you lay your head on his shoulder. You’re easily pushed off when Jaehyun jumps during a jump scare scene, causing you both to laugh at his reaction to a scene you’re immune to.

“You okay?” You giggle, rubbing your thumb over his. “Not a big horror fan?”

“Honestly?” He laughs, clutching his chest. “I don’t know how you do it.” 

You pause the movie. “Wait, really? I wish you told me you didn’t like scary movies before we’re three-fourths into it.” You reach over his bedside table to turn on his lamp. “Let’s do something else.”

“No, it’s okay.” He tugs on your hand gently, urging you to sit back down. “We’re almost done.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m not putting you through this if you’re not enjoying it.” You grab the deck of cards off his bedside table, before sitting back down.

“I’m enjoying it because I’m with you.” 

Heat rushes to your face, flustered at his words. “No,”you playfully argued. “It’s okay, really. Let’s play a card game instead.” You push the empty plates away before you open the packaging that holds the deck of cards.

“Oh, that’s -” Jaehyun attempts to let out before you read the handwriting scribbled in permanent marker on the front of the package. 

“52 reasons why I love you?” You read aloud, looking up at Jaehyun curiously. “What’s this?”

He gently takes the card deck from you and out of its packaging, laying some cards in front of you. You read some of the cards with handwritten notes — I love the perfume you wear every time you leave the house; I love the way your tongue kinda sticks out when you’re so focused on something; I love your smile (it’s very pretty); I love the way you lip sync to your favorite song when you think no one is watching. 

“You told me to give you reasons why I want you and these are some of the reasons why I love you.” His voice shakes, clearly worried about your reaction. 

You carefully grab the remaining cards from his hands, reading through all the cards — a smile creeping onto your face as you get to the end of the deck — I love you because being around you feels like home.

“I know it isn’t much,” he halfheartedly chuckles. “But I have one more thing.” He grabs his laptop with his headphones that’s strategically placed at the foot of his bed. “I don’t know if you know, but Mark has this makeshift recording studio at his place and he helped me make something for you.” He pauses, typing and clicking away on his laptop’s keyboard. He opens an mp3 file before turning the laptop towards you. “Read this letter first before listening to the file — the letter and the song basically tells you everything you need to know.” 

You nod your head looking down at the envelope with your name on it. You look up when you feel a dip in the bed and see Jaehyun leaving. “Wait, where are you going?” You ask, worry written all over your face. 

“I’ll be outside. I just want you to listen to it alone.” He gives you a nervous smile before biting down on his bottom lip. “Come find me when you’re done, okay?”

You nod your head before Jaehyun walks out of his bedroom, closing the door behind him. Carefully opening the envelope, you take a deep breath before reading the letter.

I’m sorry I let you walk out this morning and made you go through the entire day worrying about where I stand when it comes to my feelings. I never want you to go a day without knowing how much I love you. When you walked through the apartment door for the first time, I felt my heart stop. You’re ethereal, damn near perfect to me. But I honestly thought that was it — you were just a beautiful roommate that I was going to live with but I was so wrong. You’re so patient, kind, considerate, and compassionate even when I didn’t deserve any of those things. Through the months living with you, there was this nagging feeling that I couldn’t ignore. Those emotions scared me, you scared me, so I was selfish and made you think I hated you in hopes that my feelings for you would go away, but it didn’t — it just made you think I hated you even though it was the complete opposite. Seeing you bring over other men ruined me. I wanted so badly to get over you or at least muster the courage to tell you how I felt about you but I was scared. My past relationships weren’t successful, as you can guess, and the idea of being so in love with someone scares the living shit out of me because it can easily be taken away at any moment. I didn’t want you to leave if you didn’t feel the same way. I didn’t want to spend a day without you in my life regardless of whether you knew how I felt or not. This morning was eye opening, then I had to fuck it up by chickening out again. I’m sorry about that. When you walked out the door, there was a moment where it felt like you weren’t coming back and I knew I needed to keep you; to do everything I can to make you stay. I hope by the time you’re reading this, I’ve given you a few reasons why I want you…why I love you. I’m hoping the recording you’re about to hear ties everything together. 

Grabbing his headphones, you adjust the volume before pressing play on the mp3 file titled “completely.” You bring your knees to your chest, close your eyes, and you force yourself to focus on the lyrics. The feeling that overwhelmed you is indescribable — you smile at the lyrics made for you, your heart fluttering immensely as it continues to fill with love for Jaehyun. When the song ends, you selfishly replay it, forgetting that Jaehyun is waiting for you and drowning in his own anxiety. After your second time listening to it, you rip the headphones off and excitingly make your way to the door. 

You find Jaehyun pacing back and forth in the hallway biting down on his thumb restlessly waiting for you. 

Placing a gentle hand on his back, he turns to face you, eyes filled with worry that quickly disappears when you pull him into a kiss and his arms wrap tightly around your waist. 

“I-I’m assuming you liked it?” He asks between kisses. 

“I loved it,” you smile against his lips. Tugging on his shirt, you pull him into his bedroom and lead him to his bed. His mattress hits the back of his knees and causes him to fall onto his back. You push the scattered items further away from you, giving you more room to move around. As you climb on top of Jaehyun, his hands quickly find your waist, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Wait, wait,” he sighs as you pull your body away from him. “I hope you know I didn’t do all of this because I wanted to have sex with you again. I meant everything I said.”

You let out a small giggle. “I know,” you whisper against his lips. You gently pull his lips into yours, your hip rolling over his pelvis. “Is it okay if we do this?” You ask between kisses.

“Only if you’re okay with it,” he breathes before capturing your lips once again. 

You hum, nodding your head. “Take your pants off,” you softly command before feeling his hips lift off the bed. He uses both hands to push the fabric down his thighs then to his legs, pulling one leg out and using the other to push it off his ankles all while his lips never leave yours. You take note of the lack of underwear he has, smirking at his hardened length pressing against your clothed core. You lift the fabric of his shirt over his head before trailing kisses down his neck, chest, and stomach. 

Jaehyun gulps at the sight of you, feeling vulnerable as you place chaste kisses against his soft skin. 

Licking a strip against his shaft, he gasps as a sudden wave of blood flows into his length, hardening under touch. You take his tip into your mouth before sinking him deeper, allowing his cock’s head to hit the back of your throat. A moan quickly escapes from his lips, his mouth agape at the pleasure he’s receiving. 

“Damn,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “This mouth will be the death of me.”

You smile against his cock before hollowing your cheeks, sucking on his shaft as his hand wraps around the nape of your neck, slowly guiding your head up and down. 

“Just like that,” he groans. “Fuck, you’re too good at this.” He props himself up with his free elbow, enjoying the delicious view in front of him. 

You lift your head, your spit glistening against your plump lips and stroking his erection slowly. “Too good?” You question with a smirk. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“Not at all, baby,” he sighs before you place a soft kiss on his lips. His tongue rolls over your bottom lip before his teeth capture it, tugging on it gently. 

“Do you want me to stop?” You tease, rubbing your thumb over his excited tip.

“No, please,” he begs.

“You’re very cute when you beg, you know that?”

“And you’re a tease, you know that?” He smirks, pulling your lips back down to his. 

You grin before placing kisses against his length, twitching under the soft touch of your swollen lips. Flattening your tongue, you take his entire cock into your mouth, gagging on it until a pool of saliva drools out and falls onto the base of his shaft, causing a string of Jaehyun’s favorite curses to leave his lips. You leave his cock with a pop, smiling up at him. 

Jaehyun tugs on your shirt, pulling it over your head and throwing it across his bedroom. You quickly remove your bottoms as Jaehyun places open and wet kisses against your abdomen. Pushing him back, you grab a condom from his bedside table remembering where he had them from this morning. You roll his condom onto his erection before you align your entrance with the tip. Jaehyun’s hands gripping your ass, your supple skin pillowing between his fingers. You ease your hips down his hard length, moaning at the stretch you’re still not used to. 

“So tight,” he murmurs under his breath, trying to steady his breathing as his tip dips into your needy cunt. “Maybe we need to do this more often to - fuck - to get you used to me,” he chuckles, licking your collarbone before sucking the skin into his mouth. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling it back to look up at you. “You’re naughty, you know that right?” A devilish grin pulls at your lips as you watch Jaehyun’s jaw drop, feeling your walls swallow his entire shaft selfishly. 

“Only for you,” he whispers, completely intoxicated by your presence. 

You roll your hips against him, your moans filling the space between his and your lips. Jaehyun grips your hips, helping you move up and down his shaft before smoothly switching positions with you under him. 

“This feels very familiar,” you giggle, licking your bottom lip. 

Jaehyun smiles down at you, his hips sensually moving into you. “You don’t have to say it back, but I do love you.” He sighs, peppering kisses against your cheek. “I hope you don’t mind me saying that to you.”

“Not at all,” you smile, your legs wrapping around his waist. “I love you, too.” 

You could feel him smile against your skin before his hips move rapidly into you. You feel Jaehyun’s tip kiss your sweet spot inside of you as he slowly rubs your clit with his finger. He’s timing your orgasm, ensuring he releases at the same time as you do. He feels your walls flutter against him and he takes notes of your moans now turning into tiny whimpers. Your back arches and you press your heels against his back, keeping him as close to you as he possibly can be. Within seconds, you and Jaehyun are coming in tandem — both of you desperately catching your breath. Slowly pulling out of you, he rids himself of his used condom before getting dressed and rejoining you in bed. 

You rest your head on his chest, your arm slinging over his abdomen as he strokes your hair endearingly. “I hope I gave you enough reasons,” he lets out, kissing your forehead. 

“More than enough,” you smile, your finger tracing his abdomen. You look up at him before kissing his cheek. “Also, I hope you know that now that I know you can sing, I’ll be asking you to sing to me all the time.”

Jaehyun shyly giggles, pulling you back down to his chest. You both lay there in silence, soaking in the moment you have with each other. 

“Oh!” Jaehyun lets out, sitting up in bed. You follow his actions, sitting up confused. “Before I forget, close your eyes.”

You smile nervously but you do as he asks.

“Stick out your wrist.”

You lift both wrists together, smiling cheekily. 

“Just one wrist, baby.” He laughs as he watches you drop your right hand to your side.

You feel something cold press against your skin and the weight of it feeling heavy on your wrist. “What is it?” You ask, your eyes still shut until he allows you to open it which he quickly does. 

Your eyes flutter open, your jaw dropping at the sight of the Cartier love bracelet around your wrist. “Wait, Jaehyun, is this real?” You lift your wrist, examining the bracelet up close.

“Yeah, I bought it today.”

“No, wait,” you stumble on your words. “I-I can’t accept this, this is expensive. Return it and get your money back.” Before you could remove the bracelet from your wrist, Jaehyun grabs your hand and halts your movements. 

“It’s really no problem. If you’re worried about it being expensive, just know it didn’t put a dent in my bank account, I promise.” 

You open your mouth to protest, only for him to shush you as his finger is pressed against your lips.

“I’d give you the entire world if I could,” he smiles. “But since that’s physically impossible, I’ll do my best to give you everything else.”