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trauma-report · 8 months ago

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𝐀 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐋

Do you dare to check in? 🛎️ The infamous Overlook Hotel, nestled in the isolated Colorado Rockies, has a dark and mysterious history. Known for its eerie atmosphere and paranormal activity, the hotel has attracted visitors looking for a thrilling experience. This weekend, a group of individuals, each with their own reasons, has checked in. As night falls, strange occurrences begin to happen, turning a weekend getaway into a nightmare. ⸻ imagine yourself in the situation and create your character as they are trapped in a horror movie come true. bonus: get your creative juices flowing and write a oneshot. what happened before the picture? where is your character headed now? are they searching for their friends/the people that arrived with them or are they investigating something different entirely? what else is lurking amongst the shadows?

special guests (yes, Ana, I stole that from you): @ausgetrieben ,@thisis-elijah , @phasmophobie (kind of), @ertraeumte and @heartofglass-mindofstone

Colorado hätte eine Zuflucht sein sollen. Ein Ort am anderen Ende der Welt, an dem die Russen weder Elsie, noch ihn finden konnten. Die Russen. Seine eigenen Landsleute, gegen die er sich gewandt hatte, nur um die Frau beschützen zu können, nach deren Fähigkeiten sie trachteten. Nach mehr Macht, mehr Möglichkeiten, um über allen anderen stehen zu können. Jahrelang hatte er in diesem Teufelskreis mitgewirkt, der darin bestanden hatte, zu töten, zu sabotieren und Regierungen zu stürzen, damit seine Leute alles neu aufbauen und besser kontrollieren konnten. Es war befreiend gewesen, sich aus eben jener Kontrolle zu winden. Als wäre er ein Tier gewesen, das jahrelang in einer Falle gesessen hatte, aus der es nur schwer war zu entrinnen. Und gleichzeitig fühlte er sich seither so verloren wie noch nie in seinem Leben. Ohne Sicherheit, ohne Ziel waren Elsie und er um den halben Globus gereist, in der Hoffnung irgendwie so weit weg von ihren Häschern zu kommen, wie nur irgendwie möglich. Und sie hatten beide tatsächlich geglaubt, dass sie diese mitten im Nirgendwo der Rocky Mountains finden würden. Dass sie dort außerhalb der Reichweite von Furcht und Terror sein könnten, doch das Schicksal meinte es mal wieder nicht gut mit ihnen.

Die kalte, finstere Nacht, die sich über die verschneite Landschaft gelegt hatte, hüllte auch das Overlook Hotel in eine dicke Decke des Schweigens. Jascha hatte in der Stadt gehört, dass es seit Jahren leerstand, weil es dort angeblich spukte. Der ideale Ort also, um unerkannt unterzutauchen, vor allem im Winter, wenn kaum jemand nach diesem Ort sah. Ein Fenster einzuschlagen, um sich Zutritt zu verschaffen war da noch das Leichteste gewesen. An Geistergeschichten hatte Jascha noch nie geglaubt, auch wenn er durch Elsie’s träumerische Gabe bereits wusste, dass es in dieser Welt Dinge gab, die sich dem menschlichen Verstand entzogen. Und doch würde ihn dieser Ort eines Besseren belehren. Die ersten Nächte waren ruhig. Erholsam ruhig nach all den Strapazen der letzten Monate, die dem Speznas beinahe jeden Mut gekostet hätten. Er hatte sich verändert. Aber ob zum Guten oder Schlechten, das konnte er nach wie vor nicht beurteilen. “Ich mag es hier nicht…”, hatte Elsie am dritten Abend gesagt, während ihr Blick aus dem Fenster hin zur verschneiten Landschaft geglitten war. “Ich hab Angst, dass man uns hier findet.”

Der Russe gab ein schweres Seufzen von sich, legte noch den letzten Holzscheit für den Ofen nach und trat dann zu ihr, setzte sich neben sie auf die Fensterbank und griff nach ihrer Hand, strich mit dem Daumen über ihre weiche Haut, ehe er ihr ins Gesicht sah. Die Blonde hatte bereits vor ihrem Eintreffen an diesem Ort geäußert, dass sie nicht glaubte, dass dieser Ort eine dauerhafte Lösung war. Dass die Sicherheit, die Jascha hier empfand, trügerisch war und doch jemand auftauchen und das zerbrochene Fenster bemerken würde. Oder den Rauch, der aus dem Schornstein trat. “Wir haben das doch schon besprochen”, redete Jascha mit ruhiger Stimme. “Die Chancen stehen verschwindend gering, dass es der GRU bis hierher schafft. Wir sind hier mitten im Nirgendwo, keiner hat uns gesehen, keine Behörde ist auf uns aufmerksam geworden. Ich glaube nicht, dass uns die Russen hier finden werden.” “Die Russen vielleicht nicht”, äußerte Elsie weiterhin ihre Sorge, die er ihr an den Augen ablesen konnte. “Aber Murphy schon.” Murphy. Eine weitere Komponente, die vor allem in ihrem Leben Angst und Schrecken verbreitet hatte und das bereits seit ihren frühen Kindertagen. Eine rätselhafte, mächtige Figur auf dem Schachbrett der Welt, der auf irgendeine Art und Weise in die träumerischen Fähigkeiten von Elsie involviert war. Auch wenn er bislang nach wie vor noch nicht verstanden hatte, welche Rolle der Schatten in ihrem Leben genau spielte.

Er beließ es bei dem Thema, ein weiterer schweigsamer Abend, an dem sich die beiden still und jeder für sich selbst an das erinnerten, was ihnen widerfahren war, bevor sie beide ins Bett gingen, um sich Arm in Arm in süßem Schlummer dem Vergessen hinzugeben. Doch von langer Dauer waren die Stunden des Nichts nicht. Dann schreckte Jascha aus dem Schlaf und saß kerzengerade im Bett. Geweckt von irgendeinem Geräusch, das er nicht zuordnen konnte. Etwas Schrilles, Kurzweiliges, doch es hatte ausgereicht, um ihn zu wecken, der ohnehin einen leichten Schlaf hatte. Als er neben sich blickte, lag Elsie ruhig im Bett, die Augen geschlossen und friedlich schlummernd, während er selbst schlaftrunken versuchte zu filtern, was er eben gehört. Zunächst hatte er geglaubt, dass es vielleicht doch nur in seiner Einbildung da gewesen war, ein Streich seiner Sinne, wenn man in diesem Zwischenzustand von Wachsein und Schlaf war, doch dann ertönte es erneut. Ein deutliches, glockenklares, aber doch durch die Zimmertür gedämpftes Pling. Elsie neben ihm rührte sich nach wie vor nicht, atmete ruhig weiter, sodass er sich nur kurz nach vorne beugte, um ihr einen Kuss aufs Haupt zu drücken, sie wieder ordentlich zudeckte und dann so wie er gerade war aufstand, um nachzusehen, woher das nächtliche und ungewohnte Geräusch kam. Etwas trieb ihn dazu, ohne dass er bewusst wahrnahm, was es war. Vielleicht die Sorge, dass Elsie recht behielt und sie hier doch nicht so sicher waren, wie sie es sich wünschten. Doch als er hinaus auf den Flur trat begrüßte ihn dort niemand. Nur ein Schimmern in der Dunkelheit, das sich recht schnell als die Anzeige des altertümlichen Fahrstuhls am Ende des Gangs entpuppte. Sie hatten ihn nicht häufig benutzt, immerhin war das Treppenhaus direkt nebenan und sie befanden sich nur im ersten Stock. Vermutlich war es auch das erste Mal, dass Jascha diesem Teil überhaupt mehr als nur zwei Sekunden seiner Aufmerksamkeit schenkte. Denn diesmal blieb sein Blick an ihm haften. Besonders, als sich die leuchtende Anzeige bewegte und somit auch der Fahrstuhl. Vom Erdgeschoss ins vierte Obergeschoss, dann hielt er, es rumpelte und Jascha blieb wie erstarrt stehen. Gelähmt, abwartend und vollkommen irritiert. Jemand war eingestiegen. Doch wer kam mitten in der Nacht hierher und was hatte er im viertel Stock zu suchen? Erneut setzte sich der Fahrstuhl in Bewegung, diesmal abwärts. Die Nadel der Anzeige ging zum dritten, zum zweiten und schließlich zum ersten Stock. Jascha glaubte, sein Herz setzte für einige Takte aus, als erneut das Anhaltegeräusch erklang und somit anzeigte, dass der Fahrstuhl erneut gehalten hatte. Hier. Direkt vor ihm. Innerlich machte er sich bereit, zuzuschlagen, wer auch immer dort hinter der Tür stand, sollte er ihm nicht freundlich gesinnt sein. Er war unbewaffnet und wenn man sie hier tatsächlich gefunden hatte, war er so gut wie tot. Dennoch bewegte er sich nicht. Wissend, dass das kaum einen Unterschied machte. Wissend, dass er genug davon hatte, wegzulaufen. Vielleicht wäre sein Schicksal nun besiegelt. Innerlich machte er sich auf das Schlimmste gefasst und als sich die Türen des Fahrstuhls langsam öffneten war dort… nichts. Nur das Licht, das den Flur plötzlich erhellte und dadurch etwas in den Fokus der Aufmerksamkeit lenkte, das auf dem Boden lag. Ein Zettel, auf den irgendetwas gekritzelt war. Irrationalerweise drehte sich Jascha um, so als fürchtete er, dass jemand hinter ihm stünde und die Sache mit dem Fahrstuhl reine Ablenkung war, um ihn hinterrücks zu ermorden. Doch dort war niemand, nur die angelehnte Tür, durch deren schmalen Spalt er das Bett sehen konnte, auf dem Elsie tief und fest schlief. Einen Moment lang hielt er noch inne, dann trat er nach vorne, hin zu den geöffneten Türen und trat ein, um den Zettel aufzuheben.

T̴̝̙̅̆̈́̈́ͅh̸̗̠͓̭̭̰̺̬̗͗̓̔̂̀̑ͅě̴̡̢͕͕̬̰̀̌͋͌̉̏̕̕͜ÿ̴̢̗̲̤͎̱̉͗͗̇ ̶͇͔̦̹̲̫̼̎̿͘ā̶̡͈̤̩͐̀r̶̢̼̬͙̲͉͒̅͌̔ȩ̴̛̥͎̬̣̥͊̇̇͌ ̴̧̡͖͖̬̞̜̼̬͆̓͠a̶̼̳̪̩̦̬͎͖̽̈́̊͊͊̊̊͘l̸̦̬̝̟̭̝̀͋̽̌͘͠ḽ̷̢̘͖̯̤̟͌̌͘ ̸͚͇͍͍̬̦̅̂̓̐h̸̛̭͈̤́̋̓́̉̈́̎̾̚e̵̥̯͍̝̜̼̳̘̎̂̾̊̄̈̑̔̋͐ͅͅr̶̠͚̯̼̼̹͉͔̹̊́́̌ę̶̫̦͖̤̺̃͗͊̾̐́̓̈́.̷͈̫͉̣̂̃͌̔̾̋

Irritiert zog Jascha die Augen schmal. Sie sind alle hier? Was hatte das zu bedeuten? Doch noch ehe sich Jascha mit der Bedeutung des Satzes auseinandersetzen könnte, schlossen sich mit einem Mal die Fahrstuhltüren hinter ihm. Schnell wandte er sich um, wollte noch aussteigen und klemmte sich dabei fast die Hand in der Tür ein, bevor er sie reflexartig zurückziehen musste. Und ohne sein Zutun setzte sich der Fahrstuhl wieder in Bewegung. Weiter hinab ins Erdgeschoss, in den Keller und auch da blieb er nicht stehen, sondern bewegte sich weiter abwärts, bis erneut ein deutliches Pling ertönte und sich die Türen wieder öffneten. Jascha war ganz perplex, hielt noch immer den Zettel in der Hand und die Irritation löste sich noch immer nicht, als er in einen leeren Korridor blickte, der eigentlich genauso aussah wie die Restlichen im Hotel. Stimmte etwas mit der Fahrstuhlanzeige nicht? Sie konnten unmöglich bis unter den Keller gefahren sein. Auch hier hörte er noch immer den Wind von außen, der an den Fensterläden rüttelte. Und er staunte nicht schlecht, als da erneut eine Notiz lag. Direkt vor seinen Fußen vor dem Fahrstuhl. Nur langsam beugte er sich hinab und hob den Zettel auf, der ebenso zerknüllt und undeutlich aussah wie der Erste.

Ȩ̴̡̤͎͂l̶̗͉̪͎̜̉̆͌ͅi̵̢̠̙̋͋̀̈̈́̀̕ź̶̧̛̫̳̝͇̭̗̃̅̾̑̈͘̚͜͠å̴͈̖b̸̮̹̜͋̿ȇ̷̢̨̧̨̻̙͕͕͚̪̑̌̅͌͋̕̕t̸̢̮̟͚̓̎̔̂̈̿h̴̤̜̠͐͂̾̌͆͆̚,̷̢̝̼̆̑̈ ̷̪̼̲͚̥̱͉͇͇̈́̔̐͆͊̌y̵̲͖̖͚͕̪̬̪͇̒̑̄͂̾̾̄̌̍͋o̵͚̒͊̂̔̓͌͒̔́ų̷̥̮͍̬̯̩͈̍ ̷̝͂͒̒͌̈́ņ̵̞͉͕̭̖̺͍̰̚e̶̡̙̼͋͐̈́̔̎̑̃̓͘̚͜e̵̲͇̗̬̪̔̅̌̎̄̓̃́͘͜d̴̻̰̬͉̼̬͕͒͌̊̐̀͑̓̆͘ ̶̞̫̜̃t̴̻͆̋̅̍͌̀̎̌ó̴̖̳̰̗̻̘͚̠̰̍̎̊̇̆́̀̚ ̸̡̨̲̂̄̀̿̄͐̚ĺ̸̬̎́̈̒̓̿͝ͅe̷̡͍̥͋̉͛̚ä̸̮̦͈̠͙̳̳̖̟͇́͂́̎̈́̎̽̿̐̈́v̵̡̱͉̒̇̓̉e̴̖̖̮̬̕̚͝.̶̨̺̪̰̫̮̈̓

Erlaubte sich da jemand einen Scherz mit ihm? Erneut hob er den Zettel auf. Erneut fragte er sich, was zur Hölle hier eigentlich gespielt wurde. Doch eine Antwort bekam er nicht. Hatte er bis eben noch daran geglaubt, dass hier Menschen aus Fleisch und Blut ihre Hände im Spiel hatten, änderte sich das prompt, als er aufsah und vor sich in den Spiegel blickte, der direkt gegenüber vom Fahrstuhl stand und dort statt sich selbst eine andere Gestalt sah. Eine mit langen, dunklen Haaren, einer dicken Jacke, die einen Großteil ihrer Figur verhüllte, jedoch nicht den geschockten Ausdruck aus ihrem Gesicht. Eine rote Flüssigkeit ergoss sich von ihren Füßen ausgehend auf dem Boden, schien über die Schwelle des Spiegels zu kriechen und tränkte nun auch den Teppich der realen Welt. Das Bild, das so plötzlich und unheilvoll vor ihm aufgetaucht war, erschreckte ihn so sehr, dass er automatisch nach hinten stolperte. Wieder zurück in den Fahrstuhl, dessen Türen sich prompt schlossen und ihn erneut weiter abwärts fahren ließen, diesmal schneller, ruckeliger, was seinem ohnehin bereits rasendem Herz keine Ruhe bescherte.

War das ein Alptraum? Schon zwei Mal war er in der Welt der eigenen Träume gefangen gewesen, eingesperrt in seinem eigenen Kopf, beide Male durch direktes oder indirektes Zutun von Elsie. Doch sie hatte ihm versprochen, dass sie das nie wieder tun würde. Nie wieder würde sie ihm das antun, was ihn beide Male schon beinahe in den Wahnsinn getrieben hätte und er konnte ihr doch vertrauen. Sie wusste, was sich für Dinge in seinem Kopf abspielten. Es konnte also nicht sein, dass er das träumte. Doch was war das hier dann? Die Anzeige spielte verrückt, der Fahrstuhl wurde langsam und hielt schließlich an, sodass sich die Türen erneut öffneten, sodass sein Blick auf eine spiegelglatte Wasseroberfläche traf, dessen leises, plätscherndes Geräusch von dunklen Betonwänden widerhallte. Und als Jascha einen leeren Stuhl mittendrin stehen sah, neben dem ein weiterer Eimer mit Wasser stand, wusste er, dass er nicht mehr länger im Overlook Hotel war und dass er diesen Ort schon einmal betreten hatte. Nur war da diesmal anstelle einer blonden Frau wieder ein Zettel auf dem Stuhl. Alles in ihm sträubte sich dagegen, den Raum zu betreten, in dem Folter und Terror stattgefunden hatte. Mehr für eine ihm damals noch Fremde, als für ihn, der erst der Terrorbringer gewesen war. Und das alleine aus dem Grund, dass ihre jeweiligen Regierungen im Untergrund einen Krieg führten. Einen, den Männer wie er an Frauen wie ihr ausgeübt hatten. Und doch siegte die Neugierde oder vielmehr ein unbewusster Drang, der ihn dazu trieb auch diesmal aus dem Fahrstuhl zu treten, hin zu dem Zettel und zu lesen, was jemand darauf gekritzelt hatte.

‚̸̡̱̝̚K̶͕̅͒̏͂͋̓͠ṅ̴̼͚̟͙̤̞͕̙̑̌͂̒͘ĕ̶̗̞͎̯e̷̡̛̗̺̞͕̳͎̗̻͂̓́̎̔͂̎-̸̢͔̖̳̭̇̓̌d̴͍̮̟̺̎̂ȩ̸̼͉̼̪͔̯̉͋̉́̏͜͝͝͝e̶̪̱̺̓́͆͌̅p̶͇̹̥̦͚̱̥̱̥̈͌̓́͠͝ ̸͚̮̱̘͖͂̕͝i̶̳̠̣̹̪̘͗͒͒̿͜͝n̴̨̢̥̜̠̻̹̊̑̃̉̐͒́͘̕͠ͅ ̴̡͈͕̓̾͆͝f̵̘̳̭̦̹̽͛͋ļ̵̞̘͍͚̙̻̊̊͋͂̉͂̈́̊͜͠ơ̷̛͇̫̊͋͝w̶̱̑̑̏͘͝é̴̙̺̰̙̟͇̜͖̪̎͌̈́͐̓r̸̰̘̲̀͑s̷̢̛͈̞͖̫̥̟͚̲͋͂̾̈́̌͗̈́͐ ̸̨͖͐̊w̷̨̳̼̳̣͓̜̱̆̕è̸͙̹̺͓̞̠̫̙̿̏̓͂̒̎͘'̷̭̎̈́̎̈́̄͆̄̅͐̓l̷̡̛͍̪̬ļ̸͕̳̻̻̓̀̈́̇̂͌͌̽̉ ̷̗̜̼̻̳̗͉̯͉̾̀͋͒̉s̴̛̻͎͕͗̇̽̔̇̊͘͠t̸̨̝̞͔̤̦͍̞̹͐͜r̸̢̨͙̯̥͔̞̒̎͗ã̵̛̖͝ỵ̴̬̖̜̣̯̼̎̾̌́̔̑͝ͅ,̵̨̡̥̠̿̃ ̶̧̟́͋̌͝w̴̗̘̦̩͚̓̎͊̒̃͐͝ë̶̗͚̙̬̣͉̳͙͖̊͗̉′̶̱̘̹̙̳͇͙͍̓̔̃̓͊̓̂̇͑͠l̷̮͕̼̰̘̼̝͕̐̋̒̐̓͘͜l̴̩̘͎̯̤͚̙͉̒̌̑͘ ̷͖͗͊̈́̊͌̃̚k̷̗̎̉̑é̶͇̳̹̥́̈́ě̶̱̉̊͌̏̏̑̾͑̚p̸̙̌̓̐̆̓͆͒͋̚͠ͅ ̸̱̹̖͇͑̅̅̀̄̾ͅẗ̶̨̈́̔̋͂̆̐h̷͚̙͕̋̊͝ḛ̶̛͚̹̞͓̱͕̙͕ ̵͖͖̟̀̋̓͘s̵̘͕̄̇̅̚͜͝h̶̢̛͖̠̻̦͇̰̊͗̈́͛̍ŏ̴̹͖̻̫w̵̥̹͎̲̞̣̗̏͜ḙ̶̡͇̗̄́͐̈͒͑ͅr̴̲̻͙̩͂͗̈́͊̓̕͝s̷͖̻̯̻̀̎͂̋͗͘ ̵̮̰̯͇͊̈́̈́̒̏͂̆̆͘a̵̫̙͙̯̠̤̼̗͊̅̍͊̾͒̃̒͘w̴̗̖͙͇̠̘̔́̂͂̂ͅȃ̶̲̩̠̓͛̀̑̊͘͘͝ÿ̶̘́͋̆̈͒͆̀̍.̶̖̤̞̼̺̲̤̱̫̽̍͋̌̈̓͒̾̃

Schon wieder konnte er sich keinen Reim darauf machen und auch jetzt hatte er keine Zeit, um sich weiter mit jenen seltsamen Gegebenheiten auseinander zu setzen. Denn mit einem Mal wurde ihm ein in Wasser getränkter Lappen aufs Gesicht gedrückt und er selbst gepackt. Und egal, wie sehr er sich auch dagegen wehrte, den Kopf drehte und zu versuchen der luftraubenden Falle zu entrinnen, der Griff blieb eisern und die damit entstandene Schlinge um seinen Hals zog sich immer fester zu. Er spürte, wie er zurückgezerrt wurde, während er Wasser schluckte, hustete, um dann erneut Wasser anzuatmen, bis es urplötzlich aufhörte und er um sich herum wieder die Lichter des Fahrstuhls sah, während sich die Türen vor ihm schlossen. Jascha atmete schwer, lehnte sich an die Wand hinter ihm und sah hinab zu der weiteren Notiz, die er in seiner Panik halb zerknüllt hatte. Sein Herz raste, sein Verstand lief Amok und konnte gar nicht greifen, was hier überhaupt geschah. Und als sich zum dritten Mal die Fahrstuhltüren mit jenem ikonischen Geräusch öffneten, zögerte er am längsten. Vor ihm erstreckte sich die Nacht, eingerahmt durch hohe Hecken, die aussahen wie das Labyrinth, das sich unweit des Hotels befand. Der Wind heulte und der Schnee auf dem Boden wirkten genauso, wie er diesen Ort zuletzt gesehen hatte, als er abends aus dem Fenster gesehen hatte. Vielleicht war das ein Ausgang… oder eine Falle. Der Fahrstuhl bewegte sich nicht mehr. Die Türen blieben offen, sodass das gelbe, warme Licht den unmittelbaren Bereich davor erhellte. Es gab also kein Zurück. Er musste aussteigen. Auch wenn er das Gefühl hatte, dass das eine schlechte Idee war.

Der Schnee fühlte sich kalt an unter seinen nackten Füßen und er begann recht schnell zu zittern, als die winterlichen Temperaturen ihn einnahmen. Dennoch lief er weiter, obwohl sich die Kälte bald wie Nadelstiche auf seinen Fußflächen anfühlten. Jascha schlang die Arme um seinen Oberkörper, auch wenn das kaum Abhilfe verschaffte. Ein weiterer Zettel lag im Schnee, teilweise bereits durchnässt und angefroren. Einen Moment lang hielt er inne, dann hob er ihn auf, in der Hoffnung dann wieder zurück in den Fahrstuhl zu steigen, um der Kälte zu entkommen.

Ȩ̵̬͇̫̞͆̊l̷̡͎̠̖̺̻̻͈̺͆͌̂͛̾̄̐͝͝ĩ̶͙͉̩̲̦͖̯͑̇͑̽͗͛̌͒͝j̸͉͙͋̄̄͊̿͒͌̕a̸̢͔͕͍̯̯͉̖͊̃͘ͅḩ̸̢̤̦̮̲̤̰̓̍͠͝,̶̨̮̩̩͋̋ ̴̘̫̱̙̈́I̵̪͎͂̎͠ ̶̭̏͑͆́̎̀d̴̨̠̤̜͕͉͍̮̪̤͗̒̀̈́̈́̓̉̊͝͝o̷̭͇̒̓͌͗̿͑͆͌̇n̶̛̯̠͛͒̑̌̉̀͝’̷̨̧̰͓̓̿͂̉͜͠t̸͚̠͚̼̣̥̏̈͑̾̍͋ ̸̖̖͙̄͋̓͋̚͝k̵̨̹͙̫͍̖̟̅̀͂͒̉͠ǹ̴̢̝̖͉̲͚̯̖͗̎̃͛̊o̵̧͔̪̿̔̆͒͊̍̇̉̔͠ẁ̷̹͕̫̠͓̘͎͑͛͗̑̅ ̵̢̲̜̣͚̿̽̂̈́̏̎̚w̵̩̖͎̥̥͐̌̎͗̕h̸̭̺̄̐́̓̓͑e̶͖̳͇͛��̄̽̉͑̓̈́͊͌r̶̡͔̰͉͈̈́͗̈e̷̹͉̽͂́̿͋̓̄̀̚͝ ̴̡̢͓̙͈͔̺̯̞̰̒̔̋́̑̓Ị̷̻̺̹̫̝̜̯͇̎̂̽͂͒̂̇͝ ̶̢̜͓͑͋͝a̶̡̛͓̙̞̺͚͍̺̜̋̍̈͐̐̍̇͐̿m̷̨̙͔̈́́̈ͅ.̵̡̧̼̝͙̘̹͊̓̀̑́͋̉͠͠͝ ̶̯̩̫̘͌͒̒̉͑̏͗I̸̱̫͕͙͉̥̣̗̋͌͜’̴̨̛͕̺̘̩̞͔̙͒̑̊͆̓̌͑m̸̲͈͔͔͍̗̪̂̍̀̍̓ ̷̧̟̠̙̹̝͇͑̈̊͑̇̆͛́̚ͅs̴̲͇̞̔̾͐c̴̩͕͚̗͙̤͗͑̔͝͝a̶̜͇̫̣̭̯̋̎̊̆̒̐͝ṙ̵͓͚̙͕̝͉͖͕̪ě̸̢͙͍̤́͂͊͛̊͠d̶̮̀́̇̎̉ͅ.̴̙̯̥̖̘̩̱̝̳̦̎́̈́̀́̍͗̓͝

Angst. Spürte er sie auch? Hatte er nach allem, was ihm widerfahren war überhaupt noch wirkliche Angst um sich selbst? Diese Nachrichten, die er gefunden hatten klangen alle nach Menschen, die sich in der Dunkelheit nach etwas Licht gesehnt hatten. Als wären sie davon verschlungen worden und auch er verspürte Furcht. Jedoch nicht um sich selbst. Er konnte nur an Elsie denken, die noch immer in diesem Haus war und daran, dass er zu ihr musste. Doch was ihn selbst betraf, war da nichts dergleichen. Da war nur eine gewisse Akzeptanz, eine Gleichgültigkeit, nachdem er die letzte Nachricht gelesen und sich wieder umgedreht hatte. Der Fahrstuhl, er war weg. Verschwunden. Vor ihm war nur eine weite Schneefläche und keine Spur vom Overlook Hotel oder irgendetwas, das darauf hinwies. Die Eiseskälte zehrte mittlerweile an seinen Kräften, kroch in seine Extremitäten und schien ihn zu lähmen, seine Finger konnte er kaum noch krümmen, jeder Schritt fiel ihm unglaublich schwer. Seine Lippen waren blau und er vollkommen ausgelaugt. Er schaffte noch drei Schritte, dann brach er hinab auf die Knie und blickte vor sich in den Schnee, der immer wieder von roten Linien durchbrochen war. Von Blut. Blut, das jemand genutzt hatte, um Namen ins Weiß zu schreiben.

Isaiah.

Liz.

Ana.

Pavel.

Elijah.

Würde er der nächste Name sein, der sich im Schnee wiederfand?

Schwerfällig hob Jascha den Blick, als sich ein Schatten vor ihm auftat. Er wuchs und wurde größer, bildete Gliedmaßen und einen Kopf, der ohne Gesicht blieb. Eine rauchige, düstere Gestalt, die nun ihre langen Finger nach ihm ausstreckte, während der Wind um ihn her heulte und ihm den Schnee in die Augen trieb, sodass er sie schließlich schloss, innerlich ahnend, was nun folgen würde.

“Elsie”, murmelte er noch leise, bevor ihn die Finsternis gänzlich einhüllte. “Du musst aufwachen.”

tagged by: @thisis-elijah and @heartofglass-mindofstone tagging: all of my mates had been tagged yet, I think. So feel free if you wanna to his muse game! But I wanna do a big shoutout to @thisis-elijah , @ausgetrieben and @heartofglass-mindofstone , who literally gave me the inspo for this writing prompt.

#yes I know there are shoes on this picture #no you can't put away shoes on this picture #muse game things

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nochepsicodelica · 3 months ago

Text

It's two in the morning and you're knocking on your own front door after a night out with your friends. Your mind has been occupied by static, not allowing you to remember that you have a key to let yourself in, so you stand there alone, waiting to be let in. You plant your hand on the wall to keep yourself balanced, looking left and right to see if anybody or any car is looking at you as they pass by.

Just as you're about to knock, again, the door opens and you flinch, your other hand flying to the wall to remain steady on your feet. You look up at your man with warped vision, blinking a little to try and clear your view of him. You can't contain your laughter when you see the stern look on Toji's face, his green eyes laced with concern you can't process in this state.

"What the fuck..." Toji mutters, to himself. What kind of friends would just drop you off without making sure that you get inside your house, safely? It's late. Who knows how long you had been standing there before you knocked. Anyone could have snatched you away.

Toji will catch you. You know he'll catch you if you just lean forward into him, like a backwards trust fall, so you set the plan in motion. You drag your feet and move your hands along the wall until you're in the safe zone, and then you just fall forward.

"Woah, hey." He's quick to hold you up against him, to prevent you from sliding down his body and to the floor. "Hey, you good? Talk to me. Can you walk?" Toji doesn't receive much of a response from you. Just quiet little giggles and incoherent mumbles. He sighs and picks you up, draping you over his shoulder. The door is shut and locked, before he makes his way to the bedroom. The light is already on, because he was awake the entire time, awaiting your arrival. Toji sets you down on the bed and briefly sits on the edge, by your feet.

"You didn't answer my calls, and I texted you like twenty times." He lifts your feet and takes their place, before setting them down on his lap so that you are comfortable. His fingers make haste of undoing the buckles on your high heels and he sets the shoes down, placing them under the bed.

You simply hum in response, not entirely sure of how you got to the room. The light is so bright and it's irritating your eyes, making it hard for you to hold them open.

"Told you to let me know if you needed me to pick you up, dummy." Toji wraps his hands around one of your ankles, his fingers kneading with little pressure, incase the area is tender.

"N-Nooo, i'm... here. Here," you babble.

It's so frustrating to be unable to get a full explanation out of you, right now. Your responses are borderline illogical and it's not doing Toji any good. He feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest. He can't calm down, after he spent the last few hours wondering why you stopped responding to him and why you weren't answering his calls. To open the door and instantly get a whiff of your night out was enraging, not because you got extremely intoxicated, but because there was no one looking out for you by the end of your time out.

Toji understands that there is no point in digging into this, now. You can't even walk or see straight, so he settles for making simple conversation that you can easily digest.

"Did your phone die or something?"

You shake your head, side to side, and his blood boils all over again. This was supposed to be an easy conversation, but he was just so damn worried. His entire body is tense with concern.

"Fuck." He sighs, nodding slightly at your response. "Yeah, okay."

A few seconds of silence go by and Toji thinks you may have fallen asleep, but then you speak up, out of nowhere, again.

"Took lots of pictures..." you mumble, eyes closed as you dig into your pocket for your phone. Once it's in your hand, you toss it on the bed for Toji to grab. He puts your massage on hold and picks up your phone, unlocking it and going to your photo gallery, where immediately, he sees previews of the pictures of you and those so called "friends" who abandoned you on your doorstep. The only reason he cares for those group photos is because you're smiling widely, seemingly laughing, and overall looking extremely happy in every one of them, but as much as he loves the look on your face in those, he loves the pictures you took of yourself and the ones your friends took of you, more. Some you had already sent to him, others he hadn't seen until then, so he sent those pictures to himself.

Toji turns your phone off and sets it aside, before grabbing ahold of your other ankle and repeating the same treatment that he did for the first one.

"There was... ugh..." you sweep away some strands of hair that almost went into your mouth. "A man. I dropped my phone and he- and he got too close behind me when I bent down to pick it up." You nod, with your eyes as wide as they can be in this state, like you're trying to prove that you aren't lying by looking him straight in his eyes.

"That's fucking disgusting, mama." Toji's eyebrows furrow, discomfort written all over his face with this new information you revealed. He squeezes your ankle a little tighter, his mind beginning to cloud with thoughts of never letting you go out without him again, but before he even thinks of spilling these thoughts to you, he asks you the most important questions.

"Are you okay? Did he touch you?"

"Mm-mm, no." You shake your head as quickly as you can without getting dizzy. "Saw his legs behind my legs and I got up and gave him this look..." You furrow your brows and lid your eyes, a gaze that doesn't seem intimidating or warning enough, now, after so many drinks. Your face quickly relaxes after and you roll your eyes with a tired sigh. "Yup, that was the face I made and then I walked away," you say, your attitude more upbeat.

"Did he leave you alone?" Toji asks, hoping nothing more happened. If there is more, he'll have you describe this man to the best of your ability, and he will hunt him down until he can positively assure that he's no longer part of the world's population.

"Yeahhh, don't know where he went." You hum like you're trying to remember, as if you even have that knowledge. You walked away and didn't turn back around, something that finally concludes your brief inability to recall. "Think he got lost." You giggle.

"Good. I'm glad," Toji says. You hum in agreement, and your eyes fall shut, gracing you with two seconds of sleep before your head nods and you wake up, again. Your bashful smile evolves into a short laugh, one that has Toji smiling at how precious you are. "You tired, mama?"

You nod and blink slowly in response, fighting the urge to shut your eyes for longer. Your lips curl into a lazy smile, when Toji presses a kiss to your ankle, before he moves your feet and sets them on the bed so he can get up.

"Let's get you ready for bed, then."

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jungkookstatts · 1 year ago

Text

All Over Again

[Summary]: Paternity leave has its effects on Jungkook. After his first day back at work, he can't help but show you how much he doesn't want to go back.

[Theme]: Dad!Jk, CEO!Jk, Married Couple AU, Parent's AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes. Marking, kissing, nipple play, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up y'all), dom!JK, mentions of another pregnancy, talks of pregnancy and getting pregnant, etc.

[Word Count]: 4,274

[A/N]: This is a pure result of the urge my body suddenly gets to want a child right before my period smh. Anyway, felt cute, might delete later once I am sane.

It’s been a long ass day. Jungkook’s white button-up feels stapled to his skin, his pants folding uncomfortably with every step he makes as he exits his office. A long finger comes up to his neck, digging underneath his striped tie, wiggling it a little to loosen the chokehold it has around his neck. His other hand feels bound to his briefcase, which carries so much importance in his life but yet so much burden at the same time.

It’s his first day back at work after his baby boy was born. The briefcase he holds reminds him of the duty he has to his family — of his passion and his support for you and your baby. But it also reminds him of the time it has ripped away from spending with you. He clutches it with so much strength at the thought of you, pulling his car keys out of his pocket and pressing the unlock button so hard, that he thinks he almost might just break it.

With a deep breath, he takes off his tie and tosses it in the passenger seat along with his briefcase. He’s ready to go home. That picture of you, him, and your son that you insisted on framing and Jungkook bringing to work has been a constant reminder of what he has to look forward to at the end of the day. If only his paternity leave could have been longer. You and his son are all he’s been able to think about. How you were doing, if you needed his help, if Jaemun was being feisty, how the cute crinkle on his nose resembles yours to a T.

It’s late January, and the winter air is unforgiving. He wonders if you have the heat on high enough; if Jaemun had enough blankets, or if the tip of your nose was cold like how it always is in the winter months. He can imagine you holding him close, swaddling him as you sing to him delicately. The thought makes his whole body warm, even though the air is so cold that it feels like glass is cutting against his skin.

He’s convinced he will take more time off. He’s the CEO, after all. He could take months off and it not matter. He wants to be with you always — at all times of the day to hold you and be there for you like he should be. If only the world had been that easy to where passions didn’t have a price. He got lucky, his passion having a heavy penny attached to it. But he wonders where that passion took something more valuable away from him — time. He finds himself now strapped between the choice of time and passion, and he fights the fact that he cannot choose both.

The door to your home is welcoming to his eyes as he pulls up to it. It’s not big by any means. Just homey and enough for the three of you. Even with the snow covering almost every inch of it, the reminder of how warm it is on the inside makes his drive to enter it even greater. He does so with a shiver, coming up to your shared home with a stomp of his boots to shake off the snow just before he enters.

To his surprise, he’s met with hushed music coming from the kitchen as he puts his winter coat on the hook, places his briefcase on the wooden floor, and shimmies out of his shoes. He looks at his watch first, making sure it’s not Jaemun’s nap time, to which he finds out it is. The soft music makes sense now, and he smiles when he makes his way down the hallway to the source of the noise.

The rest of the house is dark except for the kitchen-living room area that you and your baby rest in. Jaemun is peacefully sleeping in his bassinet by the couch, cuddling his dinosaur blanket, while you are by the stove, stirring something.

You look over your shoulder at the sound of familiar footsteps, and your heart immediately softens at the sight of your husband in the doorframe. He smiles back tiredly, running his hand through his hair in an exhausted attempt to pull himself together before he makes his way over to you. He looks relieved, like he’s finally received what he’s wanted all day. You’re happy to see him, knowing all too well that that’s what you’ve been waiting for all day, too.

Big, warm hands slide around your waist, a heavy chin rests on your shoulder as he kisses your cheek softly. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your presence as he releases the tension from work off his shoulders. You tend to have an instant effect on him — he missed you so much.

“You’re stirring water?” he laughs as he stares at the pot of water on the stove, unboiled, as you stir it as if it is.

“I’m trying to get it to boil quicker,” you explain with a defeated sigh. “Doesn’t seem to be working. I feel like I’ve been standing here for 20 minutes.”

He hums from behind you, taking your stirring hand and stopping your motions. You’ve never been a big cooker, but he knows you’ve been trying lately. “Just let it be, love. It’ll get there.”

You do as he says, putting the ladle down on the countertop and turning around in his embrace. You wrap your arms around his neck, staring at the tall man who holds you close against him. You’re met with a tired Jungkook who rests his forehead against yours as you play with the hairs at the back of his head.

“How was work?” you ask gently.

He groans, wrapping his hands around your waist and holding you tighter against him. It causes you to rest your cheek on his shoulder, hugging him in full.

“That bad?” you chuckle.

Your husband just sighs against your neck. “It’s too early to go back, Y/n,” he candors.

You tuck a strand of hair that fell in front of his face behind his ear. “We’re ok, Kook,” you comfort. But he only shakes his head, making the tucked strand fall out of its place again.

“I’m not,” he says. “I want to be here with you. Spend time with Jaemun before he’s suddenly 25.”

You chuckle at that. It does feel like that sometimes. It’s been three months since your son was born, but it feels like it was just yesterday that you were holding him for the first time.

You can only hold his cheek in response, running your thumb slowly against his soft skin. You feel for him, you really do. He’s such a good father. It makes your heartstrings tug and twist and pull every time you see him with your little boy. It’s only a matter of time before you have to go back to work as well. The thought makes your stomach turn, and you can completely sympathize with your husband dreading going back to work and leaving you and Jaemun.

“Your water is boiling,” he breaks you out of your daze.

“Oh,” you turn around. You smile, knowing he was right before. “I’m making pasta if that sounds ok?”

Jungkook kisses your neck in response, a gentle thing that has your tummy flipping for a second.

“You could also probably wake up our son,” you check the time on the microwave. “He’s been a little sleepy today, so I let his nap go for a little longer than usual.”

You add the pasta in and turn the water down, moving over to the greens left on the cutting board. You start chopping until your husband’s lips move lower.

“Our son,” he whispers, kissing your collarbone. The statement makes him jittery. It feels unreal still, even after nine months of waiting, and another three of actually having your little family here with him. You’re his wife, the mother of his kid, and he loves you more than anything in the world. You gave him something he can never find an equivalent to giving back to you. You gave him your heart and a family, and there’s nothing that can replace or overcome what that means to him. His soul lives for yours; it’s overwhelming what you’ve done for him. It’s overwhelming how you make him feel.

He kisses your collarbone softly once again, his heart full. You tilt your head to the side for more, and he gives it to you, kissing up your neck with slow wet kisses.

“Kook,” you exhale gently. You feel him hum against the skin just under your ear. Large palms cup your waist, his body moving closer to yours, trapping your hips against the countertop. Your knife feels loose in your hand when he bites at your skin gently, his tongue brushing over the bite mark afterward.

He stirs something within you. Something that you’ve missed terribly for the past few months. It makes your thighs tremble as he gently caresses your skin under his fingertips.

“The baby—“ you begin, but Jungkook’s motions cut you off yet again when his fingers slowly slide down your front. He’s unsure, his hand hesitating over your skin as his breath stops momentarily in thought.

“Is this okay?” He asks you genuinely. You nearly fall to your knees, dropping your knife onto the board, when his fingers put pressure over your clothed mound. It’s subtle, and much more gentle than what you’re used to with him. You know he’s being cautious, but god did you miss him. “If it’s too much, I’ll pull away.”

You shake your head.

It’s been a long time since the two of you have gotten intimate. Childbirth wasn’t easy, and your doctor just recently gave you two the “ok” for sex. The first time you tried since then wasn’t like what you’re used to with your husband. It was slow and painful, ending with a lot of apologies, embarrassment, and frustration. It’s safe to say that you have to get used to sex all over again.

“No,” you lean against him. “J-Just be gentle. I’m still a little sore.”

“Ok,” he whispers against your neck, kissing it softly. “Just relax for me, baby. I’ll make it feel good, I promise.”

You nod, loosening your nervous shoulders as your husband takes control. He stops swiftly for a second, turning the stove on the lowest setting before looking over his shoulder at his son to ensure he’s still fast asleep. Once he sees that he is, he immediately returns to you.

“So good for me,” he says, slowly circling your clit over your sweats. His other hand squeezes your waist before it moves up, sliding under your shirt and trickling over your breast. You’re wearing a soft bra today—one without an underwire—which makes it easier for him to slide his fingers under.

You whimper when he softly massages your boob, his fingers playing with your nipples gently. Your body, especially your breasts, has become 10x more sensitive since birth. You can feel everything, and everything either hurts or feels really really good. Whenever your husband seems to hold them, you’re a whimpering mess, melting like putty in his arms as he plays with you.

“Sensitive,” Jungkook smiles. His fingers rub harder against you, and you subtly buck your hips against him. His lips graze against your skin, his hair tickling your collarbone as he assaults your neck over and over again.

“You’re so cute when you’re pregnant,” he rasps against your cheek before planting a sweet kiss upon it. “Wanna see you like that all the time. So full of me — carrying our babies.”

“Jungkook, I—” you whine, grasping onto his wrist. You’re unsure what to do with yourself, wanting him to do so much to you, but not knowing where to start.

The man behind you takes his hand away from your mound, and he chuckles when you whine in protest. But his thumbs hook on your pants and underwear, slowly pulling them down.

“Relax, baby,” he asks again. “I told you, I’m gonna take care of you. Don’t worry.”

His hand slides around your waist again, smoothing over your skin until it’s sliding between your folds. The back of your hand comes up to your mouth as your other grips the countertop for support as he plays with you.

“So wet,” he moans, feeling the effect he’s had on you with his fingers. “This all for me? I’ve barely touched you yet.”

You nod, feeling completely at the mercy of the man behind you. His other hand plays with your nipple again, and you feel another wave of euphoria go straight to your pussy.

His fingers gather your slick generously, smoothing it over your clit before circling it gently. He plays infinities over it, making your knees go weak. It’s getting harder to stay quiet, especially when he pinches your nipple gently, making you gasp at the soreness and pleasure it causes.

“K-Kook,” you whine, but he only chuckles, quickening his motions on your clit as he presses further into you. You can feel his dick strained against his work pants, and the thought of him inside you again makes you feel so needy for him. “Want you,” you pant. “Please.”

“Patience,” he shushes you, kissing your neck surely. “I haven’t even made you cum yet.”

“Wanna cum with you,” you whine in protest.

“You will,” he promises.

You gasp as he switches his finger, his thumb trading places with his middle. It circles over you just the same, except this time, it’s joined by his middle finger slowly inserting itself between your folds.

“Oh,” you exhale, feeling weak when he pumps it in and out of you slowly.

He lets himself test your reactions, seeing if the insertion is too much — if it hurts or feels uncomfortable. It doesn’t seem to be, and he slowly lets his ring finger join with his middle, causing you to roll your eyes back slightly.

“So good for me, baby,” he encourages. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes,” you reply almost immediately.

He kisses your neck. His lips leave hot, wet marks all over your skin as he curls his fingers against your g-spot. His other hand quickly comes to your waist, stabilizing you as you whimper against the back of your hand, trying your best to keep quiet.

He circles his thumb faster, his fingers circling and brushing against your g-spot in tandem with his movements. You feel your orgasm looming over you, and with a certain pressure against your clit, you’re coming undone just as he said you would all over his fingers.

“There you are,” he coaxes you. You’re a whimpering mess, and he feels his dick twitch at the sight of you falling apart on his fingers. He helps you ride out your high, his fingers very gently brushing over your clit as you come down.

Once you're calmed down, you reach around you, playing with his belt loop as you rest your head on his shoulder and look up at him. He looks back down, hesitating again knowing what you want but unsure if it’s too much for you to handle yet.

“What,” he smiles teasingly with a kiss to your forehead.

“I want you,” you candor, looking at up him with pleading eyes.

He kisses your nose. “Are you sure? You said it hurt last time.”

You nod. “Please, Koo,” you beg him.

His chest rises, and he takes a deep breath before he nods, kissing you gently as he unbuckles his belt. He places it on the counter before unzipping himself and pulling his pants down. It springs up, pressing itself against your skin gently. But he takes himself in his hands, hesitantly letting it slide down over your folds.

“Let me know if I’m hurting you, okay?” He says, lining himself up to you with a few strokes of his cock. God, was he nervous. The last time sex hurt really bad for you, and that was just a week ago. He wonders if the prep was enough; he hopes it was, he really doesn’t want to hurt you again.

You nod, holding onto the countertop again as his tip rubs against your entrance. Your coat his cock in such slickness, even you’re surprised at how much you leak onto him. You miss your husband. You need this bad, and so does he.

“Oh, and try to stay quiet, yeah?” He says with a push of his hips. The motion has him covering your mouth with his hand, shielding your moans quickly. “The baby is still sleeping.”

His dick slips past your folds so smoothly, it has you gasping for breath at how good it feels. It’s nothing like the last time. He’s gentler, but still so so big, he fills you up just right.

“Fuck,” he whispers against your neck once he sheathes himself fully inside of you. The man behind you stills, completely overwhelmed with the feeling of you. He, too feels like he’s had to relearn sex all over again. How to please you right now that your body has changed, how to make sure that you are comfortable with his pace and size. You two haven’t had sex like this in so long, he feels overwhelmed when you feel almost too good for him to control. A part of him is embarrassed by how quickly he thinks he’s going to last.

“How are you still so tight, hm?” he asks with a firm grip on your hip. “Y-You okay?”

You can only nod, pushing your hips down against him. The motion forces him further into you, to which both of you grunt at the feeling.

Testingly, Jungkook pulls out slowly, before pushing back into you a little quicker than before. You coat him generously, creating a motion that makes it easy for him to repeat.

He develops a pace, fucking you against the kitchen countertop with your juices leaking all over his cock and down your thighs. The stove is on and your baby still sleeps; there are uncut vegetables in front of you and your husband still wears his work shirt. But he fucks you as if none of that matters. As if his only priority is to make sure you feel good, to let yourself go as he fuck you deep and just how you like it.

His hand comes off from your mouth and settles on your hip. His other hand wraps around your front, holding you impossibly close against his body.

You moan softly when he bends you over slightly against the countertop, the new angle making it hard for you to stay quiet. But you push your hips against him anyway, telling him without words to go deeper.

The action causes him to moan, following your request with a snap of his hips.

“You like it that much, hm?” He grunts, cock ramming into you. “Like it when I knock you up good?”

“Y-Yes!” You whisper. “I love it so much, Koo.”

“Y-yeah?” He leans over you. A tattooed hand cups over yours, palm embracing the back of your hand as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Gonna let me do it again?”

“Mmhm,” you squeeze his fingers. “As many times as y-you want.”

“A-Ah,” he pants, mind going into a frenzy over your words. The fact that he is yours, that you are his. That only he can hear you say that. That only he can make you feel this good. That only he has the privilege of calling you his wife. It makes his heart warm and his cock twitch.

“God, I’m going to ruin you if you say things like that, Y/n,” he warns. But you are relentless, leaning your head back on his shoulder, giving yourself to him further.

“W-Want you to,” you whimper. “I love you.”

Your legs shake, completely weak from your past orgasm and your new one forming at the pit of your stomach. His cock makes you feel so full, like you’re stretched to the max capacity as he fucks you good. You know he’s close when his dick twitches inside of you after your words, which only encourages you to gain some strength and begin fucking yourself back on his cock.

“Mm, fuck,” he grips your hips tightly. “M’ gonna cum.”

He quickly reaches around you again, drawing infinities over your clit with his middle finger. His eyes roll back as your cunt naturally tightens at the feeling. Your hips jolt and the knots in your tummy slowly start to unravel themselves onto his dick as you come undone. Just as he had promised, with a final twitch, he’s cumming inside of you with hot, thick ropes filling you up with whispered exhales of your name on his lips.

He lets the two of you catch your breath, his forehead resting on your shoulder before he’s pulling out, shared cum leaking down your thighs and onto the floor. Quickly, he grabs a paper towel from the roll next to the stove and cleans you up a little.

With gentle hands, he helps you back into your sweats before he helps himself into his boxers. He still lingers behind you when he reaches a hand around you and turns the stove on a higher setting once again.

You turn around, wrapping your hands around his neck as you pull him in for a much-needed kiss. “I love you,” you whisper against him again. His hair falls onto your skin, dark locks intertangling with yours as his fingers come up to hold your face against his. Soft lips sear over yours, telling you things that simply cannot be put into words.

“I love you, too,” he brushes his nose against yours. “Was that okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

You pause, looking up at his dilated pupils. He looks at you like you're his world; like he's given you his heart with the full intent of never receiving it back from you. You nod, kissing him softly again.

“You should probably wake up your son now,” you poke his cheek.

Looking at the time on the microwave, he snaps out of his daze. “Oh fuck,” he says as his fingers leave your side. You watch him leave you with a chuckle, turning back to your pasta wondering how in the world you go so lucky to marry and mother a kid to this man. You’d truly give him anything he wanted.

***

[Bonus]

With gentle hands, so big against his baby’s frame, he picks Jaemun up in his arms, holding him against his chest. His dinosaur blanket swaddles him softly, and Jungkook does his best to make sure he’s correctly supported and held despite the extra fabric over his small frame.

Jaemun stirs, and Jungkook places a soft kiss on his tiny head before he gets the chance to freak out and cry. The baby seems to know exactly who is holding him, and he nearly falls back asleep at the familiarity of his father’s arms. But Jungkook bounces him against his chest softly, slowly waking him up for dinnertime.

He makes his way over to you, making unnecessary airplane noises, from what you assume is Jungkook pretending to be an airplane and his son the passenger.

“You know, babies can’t laugh until they’re about 4 months,” you shake your head with a laugh.

“False,” your husband comes behind you again. “I swear he’s laughed before.”

You chuckle, taking the pan off the stove and pouring the insides into a strainer. Just the noodles are left in the strainer now, and you realize that you haven’t thought past the part of boiling the noodles. You ignore that you have no idea what kind of pasta you’re making when Jungkook rests himself against the kitchen island.

Jaemun catches sight of you, and his arm reaches for you in Jungkook’s hold. You come over, giving him a kiss on the forehead before kissing your husband.

“Were you serious?” your husband asks you suddenly.

“About?” you raise your eyebrow.

“You know,” he gulps, holding Jaemun a little tighter. He rests against Jungkook's shoulder, his eyes tempting to fall back asleep again. “More kids.”

You raise both your eyebrows again, looking at him as if he was serious. His heart beats faster when he realizes what you’re thinking, quickly rephrasing himself.

“N-Not now, of course,” he gulps.

You turn around, opening the fridge for some milk for Jaemun as you listen to him. You take out a pot, take the cased breast milk from earlier, and pour it in, turning on the stove afterward.

“I just mean, like, in the future,” he explains.

There’s a long pause as you wait for the pot to heat up enough. The man behind you is weak, and you don’t know if you want to be mean and give him the blunt answer, or soften the blow. Watching how he cradles your son makes you want to go with the first choice.

“Don’t you worry Jeon,” you start, as you stir the contents in the pot. You can hear him gulp behind you. “I planned on giving you as many babies as you want. But at least wait until Jaemun is in pre-school or something. I don’t think I can handle two infants at once.”

You hear little from him at your answer, leaving you smirking knowing full well that you put the man behind you in a frenzy imagining the future you just laid out for him.

***

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]

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hwnglx · 2 months ago

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pick a pile - what makes you attractive?

welcome back lovely reader! let's take a peak into what makes you so attractive. breathe slowly, take your time and use your intuition to go with the pile that speaks to you the most. remember to take what resonates, and leave what doesn't. 𓆩♡𓆪

˖ ࣪ ⊹ ꒰ঌ pile 1 ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

you're attractive, in the way you're interested in creating these meaningful and emotional connections to people.

you aren't the type of person who feels the need to place yourself above anyone, in order to feel good about yourself. your desire for balance and harmony in your relationships makes you highly attractive.

the way you're able to put yourself in other people's shoes, and approach them with empathy, is wonderful. you give them this precious feeling of being understood.

you're a person who has very comforting energy, and a soothing effect on others. someone who brings the calm after the chaos, and hope into situations that seem lost.

spirit keeps showing me this image of a bandaid.

your attractiveness lies in your gentleness. in your ability to mend and heal.

the fact that you've been through so much, but this inner spark of hope inside you still remained bright and dazzling in the end, makes you very special.

it's likely that a lot of you aren't fully aware of this, but your existence is dazzling, and extraordinary in many people's eyes.

you stand out. you're unique.

there's something about your presence that shines differently, compared to the people around you. it's almost like a butterfly that can't see the beauty of its own wings.

i believe a good amount of you, have gone through your own losses and heartbreaks in the past.

it's likely you went through different cycles, and various impactful stages in your life where you were forced to adapt and adjust. unexpected situations which caught you off guard and resulted in you needing to pick up the pieces by yourself.

but the way you've been able to bounce back, and still find this inner courage to keep going, despite the hurt, is impressive.

i believe you've come to a point where you've been able to move away from that state of sorrow, and turned it into something that fuels your power.

your ability to bravely deal with the things that life unexpectedly throws you head on, makes you very attractive.

you still have a more sensitive heart, and your core will always be a little soft and sweet deep down; but your character has gained a lot of strength throughout the years.

this is something you radiate to the outside now. your inner power makes you incredibly attractive.

you look at the things you've been through till now, as experiences which have shaped you immensely, and turned you into the person you are today.

a lot of you are also likely to be outspoken, and pretty straightforward. you like getting to the true core of topics, and aren't afraid to voice things others might shy away from.

your attractiveness lies in your ability to balance these two coinciding sides in you; one that is full of empathy, warmth and a kind heart, and one that is self-sufficient, ambitious and courageous.

˖ ࣪ ⊹ ꒰ঌ pile 2 ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

you're attractive, in the way you relentlessly work towards fulfilling your own dreams and goals.

you're willing to put in consistent effort, in order to build yourself the dream life you desire so badly.

i just don't see you liking to rely on anyone else to do the work for you. you're very self-sufficient, and recognize that in order to get to a place of satisfaction and contentment within yourself, you have to be the one to make the effort. there's nothing like enjoying the fruits of your own labor.

a lot of you are very sure of what you want for yourself. some of you might actively manifest, by imagining and picturing how you want your life to be.

creating moodboards on pinterest or something. creating folders of style inspiration, or interior design inspirations. this is how i want to be dressed, this is the place i want to live in.

you're not gonna be someone who throws the towel and gives in, just because someone else might label your dreams as impossible, or unrealistic.

it's almost like you'll tell them “well, i'll show you then”

you have high aspirations, standards and expectations towards yourself, as well as others, which makes you even more attractive.

you just do not settle for anything less than what you want.

people can't get to you too easily. you're guarded and careful about who you let in closely.

many people are likely to look at you as a person they can't quite decipher or fully figure out at first; someone whose facade they'd like to look beyond.

the fact that you aren't an open book who's constantly accessible and available twenty four seven, makes you highly attractive to others. you cautiously keep them at an arm's length, and people might have to work for your attention.

there might even be some people envious of you.

envious of the fact that you're so self-reliant, independent, and in no need of anyone's help or guidance in life.

and although you give off a more detached and colder vibe to some people on the outside, people who actually know the true you, are aware of how sweet and empathetic you can in fact be. you just have a genuine heart deep down.

you're likely to be someone with a lot of depth and layers, and the closer people get to knowing you in your entirety, the more they get to see of your more complex, introspective and sensitive sides.

you might be much more emotional, romantic and dreamy than what meets the eye at first; and this is likely to draw a lot of people to you.

like “wow, i didn't know you had this side to you”

there's this type of reversal charm, where you might pleasantly surprise some people with how soft you can actually be at times, compared to the first impression they had of you.

some of you might literally have an rbf, but a beautiful smile that brightens and lights up your face in a whole new way.

you also give me very very creative energy. i feel like you love to express yourself beautifully, in many artistic ways. and you see art as a way to live out your most authentic self.

˖ ࣪ ⊹ ꒰ঌ pile 3 ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

you're attractive, in the way you lead with your heart.

it's likely that you're a person who nurtures a strong connection to their vast and rich emotional world. you're someone who genuinely cares.

like.. i don't think you even know how to just not care about things, and go through life in a nonchalant “meh” way. most of the time, you're very chalant. (ㅜ same!)

this makes you much more attractive than you might realize.

you can easily get emotionally invested in plenty of your endeavors; whether that's your relationships, the choices you have to make, the different situations life throws in your way.

you feel everything in a deep and profound manner, and this makes you unique.

reason why i believe you might not be fully aware of this, is because you seem to have the tendency to see yourself as more lacking than you actually are.

you're likely to be a person who's very humble at their core. an eternal student of life.

someone who tries their best to grow continuously and better themselves through every situation they get confronted with; especially the disappointments, regrets, losses.

you're eager to pull the lesson out of every experience in life, and sincerely want to learn from your mistakes.

despite criticism hurting you sometimes, you're still trying your best to improve yourself through it all.

this hard-working, grounded, down to earth and modest energy makes you incredibly attractive.

i think you're slowly but surely trying to let go of certain limitations you habitually set yourself till now. you might've felt trapped in your mind and stuck for a good while, but you're progressively coming out of that place.

despite the exhausting struggles you've been through till now, you're still standing strong!

your endurance, resilience and inner strength makes you immensely attractive.

yes you're wounded, yes you don't see yourself as perfect, but you're still ready to fight. you are a true warrior.

even with your naturally modest character, i don't see you as a person who allows people to step all over them anymore. you're starting to learn to be more strict and clear with your boundaries.

people might see you as someone who's becoming more guarded and closing yourself off, but to you, it's what's necessary to protect yourself.

you're attractive in the way you're becoming more and more aware of your true worth and your value.

you shouldn't let people look at your inner softness as weakness anymore.

on the contrary, it makes you incredibly strong and attractive, if you confidently embrace that side of you. i can see you stepping into your true power, once you learn to acknowledge your qualities more.

it's very likely for the things you yourself see as your downfalls, to be your actual strengths. you might just see yourself in a negative light way too quickly.

for example, your emotionality and sensitivity doesn't have to be a flaw. it can be your asset. it makes you special.

not everyone is capable of emotional connection the way you are. not everyone has the ability to be so genuinely loving, caring and sincerely empathetic the way you are.

don't constantly see yourself for what you aren't, for what you lack, for what you can't do. but see yourself for what you are and what you have, what you can indeed do!

note; i was definitely the most passionate about this pile because i have to admit, i relate so much 🥹 sending you all my support and hugs sweet reader

#kpop tarot #pac reading #pac #tarot reading #tarot community #tarot #personal reading #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading

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fizz-pop-thwip · 2 months ago

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I struggle thinking about non consensual human experimentation as a whole, but what happened to Bucky really it does just make me sick.

To start, think of how his stomach dropped when he fell from the train, the fucking fear knowing you're dead. You have 2 seconds and then your dead, this is it.

Then you wake up to 1) being alive, horrifically unaware of the 70 years of hell ahead of you and 2) your arm being not only surgically removed but replaced with a metal arm, a foreign body, a parasite. You fight because what else are you ment to do? But you fall unconscious again.

You wake up to days and days of torment and torture and slowly loose hope that it will ever end, that you'll ever be saved. He didn't know that Steve was dead, how long did he yearn for Steve to find him? How mad did he get? Did he punch the wall, did he scream? Did they have to sedate him because of just how psychotic that made him? How fucking manic he would go?

How long till he lost all feeling, all emotion and hope?

When they started putting him in the chair, did he scream and cry? Did he beg for anything else? Any thing, anything, fucking anything. Did he beg for death? Did he feel himself slowly lose all of his memory, did he sob when he first couldn't picture Steve's face, or when he could remember the most important person in the world, but not a name or a background or a face, not a crumb.

The first time he's put in cryo freeze, does he remember his reflection? Seconds before he fell unconscious, never knowing how long it would be before he woke up again. Did he wake up, begging to just be put back in, the closest fate to death he could ever achieve? The closest thing to mercy? Does he catch himself falling asleep at night and wake up in tears, not even sure if it's been 20 minutes of 20 years.

Did his crys for help fall on the shiney leather shoes of scientists who showed no emotion, did he question if he was even human to begin with? Surely a human would be treated with even a fraction of care. No one treated like this was born from a mother, no one treated like this was ever looked at with maternal love.

He stopped feeling like a person, he didn't even remember he was a person. When things seeped though it just hurt, they hurt him, it made it worse. So he stopped it, he wouldn't let himself. It was impossible to live. He had no coping mechanisms, no outlet, he would show any signs of struggle and be hurt for showing humanity. He had to be what they wanted.

Even after he was broken in, no crying anymore. No begging for mercy. Did he spend his nights awake, just TRYING to remember what he forgot, FEELING the missing spots in his mind? Did he hold that metal arm close because he can't even remember how he got it anymore, all he knows is it makes his shoulders ache.

He was completely and utterly trapped, the more he suppressed, even the minor shards he remembered, the more mania he would experience.

Even once he's free, how do you come back from that, even if it was just a mental thing, the physical, real DAMAGE to his brain was enough to make him never heal again. Bucky is a walking fucking miracle and maybe THE survivor.

He is going to have memory problems, severly. He is going to have intense PTSD flashbacks, total hallucination level, breakdowns. Seriously, this level of trauma is NEVER leaving him, not fully. Phantom pains, endless nightmares, coping mechanisms that don't make sense but comfort him none the less.

He's going to have periods of times where he can't even stand being touched, not Steve, not anyone. Weeks where he can't shower or move out of a space his brain has deemed safe for fear of being hurt. Scratches at the seam between his flesh and the metal of arm, wanting it off, wanting it away from him. Again does it necessarily make sense logically? NO!! but does he feel it 100%? Yes!!

He gets better, his bad periods get less intense, more far in between but they never fully go away. As fuckimg depressing as it is, hydra made a permanent mark on his psyche. It's FUCKED.

Gods strongest soldier is Bucky Barnes.

#so so many thoughts #steve Rogers is snuggling the FUCK out of that guy somewhere‼️‼️#NO BODY TOUCHES ON THIS ENOUGH EITHER OUUHHHH BOY #ouhh my shaylaa #my shaylllaa #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #hydra #mcu #stucky

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prael · 2 months ago

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Day 10: Gambit

Nmixx Lily x male reader smut

words: 3,300 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

"Ah Fuck," Lily sighed, fiddling with her hair.

Stylists spent hours doing her hair, makeup, nails, clothes, all for the camera. Lily just knows how good she looked today. The stylists did their jobs, but she did hers too. She put her face into that angle that she knew drove people crazy. She is a professional, even if she wishes she wasn't.

She waited for hours backstage. Lily waited and waited. They all did. All of the group were just sitting there, in that green room, playing on their phones. There wasn't much to do except wait, take a nap, or eat snacks if the managers would let them. If Lily had her way, she'd eat nothing but those little chocolate-covered pretzels. “They're so good,” she always tells you.

Eventually, she had to get up on stage, stand around and smile. Then came the dance and the singing, that stuff. The usual routine, the usual performance, the same one they'd done hundreds of times. It was a dance that was burned into her muscle memory. She didn't have to think, it was like she wasn't even in control of her own body. She hit every fucking note like the pro that she is, and everyone cheered.

It's not that Lily is ungrateful. She is grateful! She knows she has a lot. But... she just couldn't help but feel a bit unsatisfied.

Like there is some huge hole inside her, and she just can't seem to fill it.

Like there's some other way she's supposed to be living.

The rest of the show goes as expected. People clap. Everyone takes pictures and videos. And they're off the stage. It's a short ride back to their apartment. They eat, they shower, they go to sleep.

Most of them do, anyway.

Lily is pulling on a hoodie and sweatpants. She is putting on a hat and pulling it low over her eyes before fitting a face mask over her mouth and nose. Lily doesn't look at herself in the mirror, and she leaves her phone in the apartment, keeping only her wallet on her as she leaves. She finds your car where it's always parked. Lily doesn't know what she'd do if you weren't waiting for her there.

"Hi, babe," you greet her. "Good day?"

"Yeah, sure," Lily grumbles, rolling her eyes. She is in a pissy mood, but that's nothing new these days. It takes time for her to adjust to being free again and to be happy now that you're around. She isn't angry at you. Lily's angry at everything else. She knows that you know that, too.

"What do you want to do?" You ask her.

"I just want to get drunk," she sighs. She's still in a bad mood. You know what will help with that.

You know it's not the answer. The bottom of a bottle never solves anything. Yet, you still took the time earlier in the day to pick up her favourite bottle of wine, and you know it's waiting for her at your apartment.

So that's where you take her. She's a little less tense once you get her inside. She's kicking off her shoes at the door, pulling off her mask and tossing it away, throwing off the hat, her hair falling free to her shoulders. Her eyes close, and she lets out a long sigh. It's almost like she can finally relax here. Like the tension can drain away and she can just... stop.

"Lily, babe, you know I love you so this comes from a good place, and I know you love singing and dancing, but you don't have to be an idol if it makes you so unhappy." You say to her. She's looking at you like she wants to scream at you. She knows that she can scream at you, that you'd take it. That's what she loves about you.

But she doesn't scream, Lily only contemplates what you have said. She takes her time, letting her anger subside, her body relax and her mind to calm down. "I can't just leave. I don't even want to leave. I just want a break." Lily doesn't know how else to put it. "Like, maybe if I got hurt, or sick, or even pregnant. They'd make me take time off."

You know that Lily is only half-serious, but she sounds like she's thought this over before, and she has.

"You'd be a cute mom." You tell her, and she is bright red in an instant, the blush on her cheeks darkening her face.

"Hell yeah, I can fulfil my dream of being a milf," Lily playfully says, and for the first time today, she cracks a genuine smile before heading for the wine rack. She quickly finds her favourite.

"I'll be the stay-at-home dad while mommy is out strutting her stuff on stage." You tease, wrapping your arms around Lily's waist, holding her from behind.

She chuckles and pours the wine into the glass. "Imagine the controversy too. A big middle finger to all those delulu fans." Lily is giggling to herself as she drinks. "That'd make it so worth it. They'd lose their minds."

"Everyone would go insane. An active idol having a kid? That'd be crazy." You add to the conversation. Lily is looking at you with this smirk that is so uniquely her. She looks a bit like the devil when she does it, but it is so fucking cute at the same time.

Lily turns to you with the straightest of faces. In an uncharacteristically deadpan tone, she says, "Put a baby in me." Her lips twitch. You know that she's fighting the urge to smile.

You can't help it. You laugh, and you kiss her. Lily's mouth is warm from the wine. She is sweet and fragrant. She tastes so damn good.

"Put a baby in me!" She laughs into your mouth, but she is still trying to kiss you, and you're still trying to kiss her. It's all very chaotic. Your hands are still on her waist, her fingers on her glass, and she's trying to press herself against you, and you're trying to press against her.

She puts down the wine and then her arms are around your neck. "Come on," she says between kisses, "let's make a baby." It's ridiculous. This is ridiculous. Lily knows it's ridiculous, but that's why it's funny, and why you're still kissing each other. Her fingers are running through your hair and you're grabbing at her ass. She's pulling away just to smile at you, and you can't help but smile back at her. Lily is a ray of sunshine.

"Fuck," she whispers as you lean in, and you kiss her again. "Come on," she repeats and then starts pulling at your shirt. You help her take it off, tossing it away, not caring where it lands. "We're gonna make a baby, right?" She's looking into your eyes, and you can see how eager she is. "You're gonna cum in me?"

The two of you are no strangers to a little bit of roleplay, but this feels like it has transcended the norm. It feels different, it feels real, it feels serious, even if it isn't. Is it?

"Yes," you say, kissing her neck. "Yes," you say, kissing her collarbones. "Yes," you whisper as you pull her hoodie up and over her head.

She's not wearing anything underneath. She's never been much of a fan of bras or underwear. You love seeing her like this, bare, naked. She has the most beautiful pair of breasts, the perfect size for her petite body. She is all smooth curves and long, elegant lines, like the figure of a woman that has been drawn and then come to life.

"I'm not joking," Lily whispers into your ear as she wraps her arms around you. Her soft breasts are pressing against you, and she is kissing you on your neck and shoulders. "I want a break. I'm so sick and tired of it." Her hot breath is in your ear and she gently bites the lobe. "I want to be a mother."

"Fuck, Lily..." You breathe as your hands slip into her sweats and find her ass. Firm flesh and smooth skin. Her hips press into your body, and her hand comes down to your cock. She's groping you through your pants and she is squeezing and rubbing and tugging, and it's making you so hard.

"It's not the first time we've talked about kids. We want one. Why wait?" She asks you as she slips her hand into your pants and grabs hold of your cock, pumping it. Lily's hands are so soft, so warm.

"It's insane. You could be forced to leave the group," you remind her. But you can feel it, too, that desire. It is growing in you, just as surely as you are in Lily's palm. It's like she's cast a spell over you and you're falling into some deep trance.

"I know," she groans into your mouth, "I wouldn't be the first to leave, though." She reminds you, her voice growing breathless and excited. Her eyes are half-lidded. You can tell how aroused she is, and it's only making you harder.

"You'd really risk it?" You ask, squeezing her ass.

"I need this." Lily insists, looking at you. Her eyes are pleading. You can't say no to that face. You'd do anything for her, and you'd never deny her anything.

She's pulling down your pants and your underwear at the same time, and she is sinking to her knees before you. Her hands are holding your cock, stroking and fondling, her fingers dancing over the length of your dick and the swell of your balls.

Lily is looking at you. Her lips are parted, her tongue running along them, leaving a trail of spit behind. "Please," she whispers, and then she's licking you, tasting you, teasing you.

Your fingers are threading through her hair and you are holding her head steady as you guide yourself into her mouth. You watch her lips wrap around your cock as she takes it in her mouth, inch by inch.

Her tongue is pressing against the underside of your dick as she slowly slides forward. Lily takes more and more of you into her mouth, the hot, wet, heat of her throat taking the very last inch. She moans around your cock and you feel her tongue swirling around you as you start thrusting. She is sucking and swallowing around your cock. You're watching her head bob as she works your length, taking you to the very base, her lips kissing your crotch. She pulls off of you and takes a deep breath and she looks at you. There is a trail of spit on her chin, connecting to your cock.

"I want a baby," Lily repeats. You don't think she has ever been so insistent on something before. Her hands come to your hips as she pulls you to her, and she takes your cock back into her mouth, sucking you and bobbing her head. She's taking you in all the way and gagging on your dick. Her eyes are closed as she focuses on sucking you off, and her fingers dig into your flesh as she holds onto you.

"You're going to be such a good mommy," you tell her, and you hear her moan in response.

Lily's head keeps bobbing and you keep thrusting, meeting in the middle. You are so deep down her throat, the tip of your cock kissing the back of it and you're throbbing. You're trying to weigh it up in your head, possibly the biggest decision of your life and it's fighting for brainpower with having your soul sucked out of your cock. It's hard to concentrate.

Lily's tongue swirls and her cheeks cave in as she sucks. Her eyes are open now, and she's looking up at you, pleading, begging for you to let her have her way. Even with your cock between them, the corners of her lips turn up into a smirk. She pulls away and gasps for air, saliva dripping down her chin.

She's still stroking you off as you groan and your legs tremble, but she isn't finished. Lily stands back up and looks you in the eye. She's still stroking your cock in her hands, pumping up and down. Her thumb rubs the tip, teasing and playing. "Put it in me, please."

"Are you sure about this?" You ask her one last time, but you're already pushing her sweatpants away from her hips, and down to the floor.

"Absolutely," Lily says and turns away. She bends over and braces herself on the kitchen counter, arching her back. Such a beautiful, elegant posture. The defined muscles of her back lead down to her cute, perfect ass. A smooth curve of soft skin, firm and pert, but inviting. Your hand comes down, caressing and squeezing that lovely ass. Her hips rock as she presses into your touch.

Lily reaches a hand back and her fingers find her pussy, rubbing and stroking. She is spreading her lower lips and showing off her wet hole. "I'm ready." She moans.

Your fingers slip into her cunt and you're thrusting, plunging into her. She is hot, and slick, her walls clenching. She feels amazing and you're desperate to get inside of her, to fuck her. Lily gasps and her hips rock against your hand as she pushes herself onto your fingers. Her hair swings wildly and her mouth is hanging open. Her breasts sway as her body writhes, her stomach flexing and her hips bucking.

"Fuck," she breathes, and her voice is low, and her tone is desperate. She is panting, her breath ragged and laboured. "Fuck me."

Your hand slips from Lily's pussy, leaving her feeling empty, wanting, needing more. Your hands come down to her hips and you're pulling her to you, your cock resting between her cheeks, hard and throbbing and aching to be inside her. "Tell me what you want." You insist. Your fingers dig into the flesh of her ass, spreading and revealing. You're rocking your hips, teasing her.

"I want you to breed me," she insists, craning her neck back to look at you. Her face is flushed. She is sweating. Her body is burning up, feverishly hot, her skin glistening and shining in the light. She looks so damn sexy, and she knows it. "Please, fuck a baby into me," she moans and turns back away, closing her eyes.

You line yourself up with her entrance, rubbing your tip against her. This is the final line, and once you cross it, there's no going back. You push yourself into her, her cunt spreading open for you as you sink in. She's tight around your cock, squeezing, milking, trying to pull you in.

Lily is gasping and moaning as you push into her, inch by inch. You reach the base of your shaft, her ass pressed against your body. "Yes!" She hisses. Her hands grip the counter, her fingers clawing into it.

"You like that?" You ask, and you begin to pull out of her.

"Please, more." She moans. "Please, fuck me," Lily begs.

Your fingers dig into the flesh of her hips as you hold her in place. Your hips are rocking, pulling back. You're leaving her, almost, only the head of your cock still inside of her, and you're pushing yourself back inside of her, fucking into her. Your pace is slow, but each thrust is powerful. She's squeezing and clenching, trying to pull you in further.

"I'm going to fill you up, babe," you promise, leaning down to whisper in Lily's ear as she lays over the kitchen counter, your bodies connected.

Lily moans, "Please," she gasps, pushing her hips back into your body as you thrust. "Breed me like the daddy you are." Her voice is low, her tone husky and breathless, and her words pure filth.

Your hand is coming down, smacking her on her ass and she is crying out, a sharp gasp of surprise. Her hips rock as she presses onto you, trying to meet your thrusts and pull you deeper inside of her.

"Fuck," she moans and you can hear the smile on her lips, and you're smacking her again, the loud slap of skin-on-skin ringing out in the room.

"Is this what you wanted?" You ask, fucking into her, picking up speed and intensity. Your body is smacking against hers, and her body is shaking.

"Harder, Daddy," Lily moans. Your hand comes down, hitting her ass, leaving a mark on the firm skin. You're thrusting, pounding, pulling back and slamming into her again and again. Her hand comes back, reaching around, her fingers digging into your hips. She wants to keep you inside her. "Please, don't stop."

You are pushing into her, fucking her hard. Her breasts are shaking and her stomach is tensing, and her hips are bucking back and forth as you thrust in and out of her. Her hair is flying everywhere as she throws her head back, a look of ecstasy on her face. Her lips are parted, her tongue running across them as she pants. You know that she is close to orgasm. "Cum in me," Lily gasps. Her eyes are rolling back, her body shaking and her hips bucking, her pussy clenching and pulsing. She is on the verge.

You're so close, so very close, and you know that you're going to cum. Your balls are tight, and you're aching for release. Your cock is throbbing, your legs trembling. You can feel the pressure building inside you. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum." You grunt. Your thrusts become more and more intense, your fingers digging into Lily's flesh.

"Do it," she moans. "Fill me up, make me pregnant."

You thrust, pushing in as deep as possible and holding it there, and you cum. Your cock pulses, your balls twitching as your seed floods into Lily. Your cum spills out and fills her up. You keep thrusting, rocking your hips against hers as you keep shooting, and it feels like an endless stream, an eternity of bliss. There's a finality to it. This is it. You've committed. There's no going back. Lily's pussy is milking your cock, squeezing and clenching around it as you pump her full of cum. It feels so damn good.

"Oh, god," Lily groans, and her body is shaking, and she is crying out in pure bliss as she cums with your cock deep inside her. All of her muscles flex as she writhes in pleasure. She's gasping, panting, her body convulsing. You're not sure you've ever seen Lily cum so hard, so intensely. You're holding her, pulling her tight to your body, keeping her steady as she quivers.

"Fuck," she breathes as she finally calms down, her body going limp in your arms. You're both panting, catching your breaths. You're still inside of her, and she clenches her pussy around your softening cock. "We have to keep doing this. Until we're sure I'm pregnant."

It is a nice image. The two of you fucking over the kitchen counter, or in bed, or on the couch, every chance you get. Cumming raw into her pussy over and over again. And once she's got a baby in her, you can fuck like this some more, you can keep making her feel this way. You can be happy.

"Yeah, we do," you agree. This was the right choice, the only choice. You love her. "Come here, mommy." You tell Lily, and she is giggling as she turns and wraps her arms around your neck and kisses you.

#Lily smut #Nmixx smut #male reader #kpop smut #m reader #Lily x reader #praelmas #smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

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unluckilyimnot · 9 months ago

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reader hugging them for the first time

Characters : mikey, chifuyu, kazutora, koko, rindou, sanzu, wakasa

asked by : @ejtheoneandonly

m.list | rules

note: i hope it's what you expected ! it's been a while since i write for them, it makes me nostalgic

Mikey isn’t really surprised when your arms wrapped around him for the first time. His eyes widened a little at the comforting feeling but soon, a huge smile flashed on his face before he turned to look at you slightly.

Something is warming up in his heart and he can’t put his finger on it. All he knows is that he wants to feel it again.

Chifuyu felt like he was in a manga. You grabbed his waist, pushed your cheek on his and snapped a picture with your phone. All of this happened so fast he didn’t get to process the moment but as your hand lasted a little around his back, his cheeks were already burning.

But he has to play it cool, leaning in as you showed him the picture. “We’re cute ! Send it to me later !”

future!roommate!Kazutora’s tears were falling down his face for a while now and when he heard the front door he kinda regretted staying there. You passed the door silently at first before hearing him sniff on the sofa. Taking a few steps after leaving your shoes at the entrance, you gasped slightly when you saw him.

He was pushing his tears away, trying to cover it up, he didn’t have any right to impose that on you. Yet, you didn’t think about it twice and your arms wrapped around his shaking shoulders, pulling him into your chest. “It's okay, it happens.”

Koko felt your body fall on his back while he was still studying at the library. Your arms kindly wrapping themselves around his neck as you took a look above his shoulders. “Are you done soon, Hajime ?”

He can feel his heart beating faster at the surprise, yet loving the way you warmed him up in a few seconds. He thought about it a bit longer than necessary and now, it took him too long to answer without sounding weird. But it’s fine. He could easily get used to you hugging him.

“Rindou I’m scared I can't jump from there ?!” you screamed from the low wall the Haitani brothers just passed by as if it was nothing. Rindou sighed a little before pulling his arms in the air, ready to catch you.

“Come on.” He could feel his ears burn when you smiled at him. He was shocked to see you jump with so much confidence when you were whining a second ago. You fell into his arms, holding onto him longer than you should’ve and he couldn’t help but not let go. He didn’t want to, this felt too good.

Future!Sanzu was shocked, like he never felt something so reassuring in his entière life the first time your hands pulled his head into your shoulder.

“It's alright.” Your fingers lightly brushing through his hair made him close his eyes, enjoying the moment the fullest. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe this wasn't even real. But the warmth engulfing him felt so real that he wanted to keep it for himself only.

Wakasa knew you weren’t the one open with physical touch, but he never intended to ask anything about it or even mention it. He just acknowledged it a long time ago. So when you came to his place that night, crying, face bruised, he felt all his old anger coming back to him, wanting to know what happened. Who did that to you.

But before he could even open his mouth, your arms were wrapped around his waist and you started ugly crying in his chest, wetting his shirt. He froze for a second, processing the whole citation before hugging you closer, feeling proud that you thought of him in this vulnerable situation.

Let me know if you liked it !

Reblog are appreciated ♡

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itsafairytalekay · 3 months ago

Text

𝙈𝙔 𝘽𝘼𝘽𝙔 𝙒𝘼𝙎 𝘾𝙍𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂?!

Kento nanami x reader.

Desc: Kento comes home to you crying, how does he comfort you? Toji's Gojo's

Warnings: lil' sprinkle of angst.

Anon requested🩵

Nanami does not like it when he's sent on missions he hasn't agreed to before and covering up for someone who isn't his student is even more dreadful for him but he saw the lil' pics you sent him throughout the day, they kept him going, your little vlogs while eating, curling your hair, choosing an outfit and asking his opinion, you were his most precious being, he couldn't even describe the comfort he gets just from being near you, it was a safe haven where he could be away from his God-awful job and his stress.

He gets in your apartment then takes his shoes off sitting on the bench beside the entrance, loosens his tie, takes off his jacket, walks in to see you and hug you maybe kiss, it's his greeting everyday he's made it clear that it's mandatory he feels at home when he does that.

But when he finds you in the kitchen, you're crying...

He walks there fast and holds your face with both his hands "darling what happened?"

You didn't even notice when he walked in because he ran to you.

"It's nothin' baby"

"Nuh uh we ain't having that, tell me love. Pls I need to know."

"I... Was missing haibara, well I miss him every but today I found our album, I was reminded of your emo phase-' you chuckle " And your ever present scowl but in every picture of us you're smiling and he's, there I really miss him kento. It's just one of those days where he feels like he's there"

"Oh, my love, yes I missed him a lot today as well, he was our best friend, he was supposed to be here with us, be at our wedding, be the best uncle to our kids, be my best man, then grow old together maybe play chess together, I can't believe he left us just like that"

He hugs you tight and you cry your heart out, wailing and 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 you and him fall in a comfortable silence and he's crying too, softly but he is. He always does when you mention haibara.

"Let's stop crying hmm? He wouldn't like it, I'm sure he never wants us to cry"

"Mhmm" You reply and he puts you on the kitchen counter, taking your apron off and wearing it himself, 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘥.

"You look like a baby girl kento" You say blushing

"Darling I'm a man"

"Sooo?? Men can be babygirl"

"Ok, whatever my darling says, goes" You laugh out loud and he's needed it since he entered in your apartment tonight.

"Mission accomplished"

"What?"

"Nothing, now what would you like to eat"

He says while getting between your legs and holding your waist.

"I cooked dinner already, I was just hiding here to cry baby, look! " You point at the utensil on the stove.

"Well, thank you for that darling, let me freshen up okay?"

"Mhmm, kiss? "

"Thought you'd never ask"

He puts you down and goes to freshen up, giving you kisses all over your face before walking away.♡

Comments are appreciated!!(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

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luveline · 1 year ago

Note

hello miss jade ily! since you’re feeling the marauders right now, may i request something with any of the boys, pre-relationship and too lovestruck to speak? reader has done something innocuous, or she’s literally just standing there, and he can’t not break and smother her?

hello lovely, thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k

modern au

You let yourself in quietly. Remus can tell without raising his eyes from his laptop that it's you. James would shout hello, Sirius would beeline for the downstairs bathroom. You close the door with care and leave your shoes under the stairs; Remus can picture you turning your head to one side gently, listening for signs of life.

"James?" you ask.

"Just me," Remus says.

You come around the doorway, beaming at him like he's the one you were looking for the whole time. "Hey, Remus. Don't suppose you know when James is back? He's going to take me to the garage so they don't rip me off."

"Uh, no, but– but I could go with you?" he suggests. Remus isn't your boyfriend, but he wishes desperately that he was and he thinks that's a boyfriend's duty to perform, right? "I'd be happy to."

Your phone dings. You pull it out with a smile. "Oh, it's James," you say, "he's still coming, but he's late. That's fine, I didn't have an appointment or anything. I'd love for you to come if you want, though, baby."

Remus chokes on nothing, clearing his throat and sitting up to not seem so pathetic. "I'll come." Because baby? Baby?!

"Brilliant. How's you writing?"

"Uh, it's, you know, happening. Slowly."

Remus is admittedly much more collected regularly, but your sudden arrival, your smiling, and now your pet name, you've thrown him for a loop. He's doubly thrown when you sit down on the sofa beside him, no polite space, thigh to thigh and close enough to smell the oils in your hair.

"I'm not looking, I promise," you say.

Writing is a raw process. Knowing someone else's eyes are on it magnifies the flaws, but he realises with certainty that he doesn't care if you see it, flaws and all. "That's fine. I don't mind so long as it's you."

"Lucky me," you say.

You take your phone out. Remus doesn't mean to pry but you're right there, and your phone screen brightness is high. The text thread between you and James is open, your thumbs penning a quick response.

Hey James, are we still meeting at the house? I'm omw. 2:17PM

yeah of course, remus is there so go have a cup of tea ill be there soon 2:30PM

ok 2:31PM

sorry running late !! Promise I'll be there, have remus make you a scone :) 2:40PM

I like him too much to have him act like my serf, you can buy us both big salted pretzels on the way home to say sorry for wasting his time 2:45PM

I'm sure he's just gutted to spend time with you 2:46PM

Nice one, James, Remus thinks incredulously. That's exactly what Remus needs, more evidence that he fancies you. You don't seem to have noticed either way, swinging a leg over your knee and finishing another text to James.

I hope not, I love spending time with him 2:48PM

Remus turns to his computer screen, elated and guilty at once. He was not supposed to see that, surely.

"Your word count is really climbing," you say, tucking your phone away. "A hundred and fifty thousand. I can't imagine writing so much… will you have to cut that down?"

"Yep. Much more chance of being published if I fit their standard count. It'll need at least forty thousand words shaved off."

You shake your head. "I can't imagine putting in all that work and then having to put in more work to get rid of it."

"Think of it like refining, instead," he suggests, his fingertip sliding across the laptop's space bar. "I'm making sure nothing is boring."

"I doubt it's boring if you're the one writing it." You stand to his surprise and stretch, a slice of your waist appearing as you twist away from him, an audible click emitting from your back as you roll your shoulders. "Can I make a cup of tea, please?"

You've had a hundred cups of tea in this house.

"You know you don't have to ask," Remus says.

"But it's always nice to ask first," you say as you leave.

He suspects you were talking more to yourself than him as you occasionally do, and he pays little mind to your movements in the kitchen. He has a lot of work to do and not nearly enough time to do it, and editing isn't as simple as cutting away. It's not obvious what needs to go. Remus has to have a deep think.

He gets distracted. When you return he barely notices, busy rewriting a clunky sentence. It's not until your pinky finger brushes his arm that Remus remembers you're here, emphasis on you, and that he's besotted.

When he looks up, he doesn't suppose he'll ever forget again.

You're at his side neatening a plate of biscuits and toasted scones, the very tip of your tongue peaking between your lips in concentration. It's a simple thing, some might even find it unattractive, but you're totally focused on the plate of biscuits, your lovely eyebrows tightly pinched.

You seem upset, for a moment.

Then you meet his eye and any trace of unhappiness vanishes. You're smiling again, eyes alight with something he can't name. "I got you a couple of biscuits and stuff, hope that wasn't too forward. You never remember to eat when you're writing."

"Oh, sweetheart," he says unbidden to himself, hands paused at his laptop, "that's not too forward."

He sets his laptop aside and stands. There's nothing for it, no hold to bar —Remus steps forward to kiss your cheek and squeeze the top of your arm, the kiss swift and the squeeze less so.

"Don't set up around me," he continues fondly, "we'll go have tea in the kitchen with the window open. You can tell me about your day, please. I should've asked you earlier."

"Don't worry, there's nothing important to share," you say, and to Remus' delight, you've visibly flustered.

His hand slides down the length of your arm to your hand, where he holds your fingers in his palm. "If it's about you, it's important. Mm?"

You stare down at his chest and laugh softly. "Okay."

It's a credit to his self restraint that he doesn't kiss you then and there.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders

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junedenim · 5 months ago

Text

what it takes to say goodnight

just him & his girls

warnings: dad!alex, fluff, smut, piv, fingering, mild breeding kink, & so on...

word count: 4.4k

He nearly trips over the cat when he walks in. He mutters curse words to himself before picking Pepper—the cat—up before it runs out the front door. Pepper has always been a calm kitty and she takes well in Alex's arms, though they are full and he struggles through the door before he can finally put everything, including Pepper, down on the floor. She tangles in his legs before running off back into the house.

Alex closes the front door roughly causing one of the magnets that holds a picture of the girls up to fall on the floor loud enough to alert the other residents of the house that he is home.

"Sounds like someone's home," he hears you announce followed by the sudden noise of pattering feet.

He rounds the corner, greeted by two blurs rushing him like linebackers. As always, Willow is quick to talk her mouth going a mile a minute, shouting, "Come look what I made today! Pick me up, daddy, pick me up! Come on!" He can't even keep track of what she is saying most of the time, her mouth going a mile a minute.

Contrasting her twin sister, Wren, his quiet little girl, tugs on his pant leg to get his attention. They've always been this way, even when you were pregnant with them. Willow would kick away and Wren would suck her thumb. Wren speaks when spoken to, preferring to perform motions to express her opinions. Unless it's vegetables, then she cries and yells, "Yuck!"

To combat both girls' interests, he bends down and picks them both up. They are just on the edge of being too heavy for Alex to pick both up at once. But maybe he'll wait until the next birthday to stop doing this. Wren curls into him while Willow hangs off his neck still yapping, "I want mac & cheese for dinner. Mummy said we can so you have to let us. Wen wants it too. Say it, Wen." Willow has always called Wren "Wen." It's adorable and Alex and you can't bear to ever correct it.

Alex turns to Wren, nudging her with a bounce to show her some attention and get her answer. "I want mac & cheese," she says robotically as if Willow trained her to say it.

"Really?" Alex questions. He looks toward you, sitting on the living room rug and watching this exchange. You share a silent laugh with him. You're calm, and he never understands how you managed to hold that through the whole day with the girls. He loves them like nothing else ever but, man, do they tire him out.

"Swear," Willow answers for Wren. "Mummy also said you'd play dolls with us."

You laugh out loud. "I never said that, Will."

Willow thinks otherwise. "Well, maybe you could anyway."

Alex laughs. "We'll see." He feels a strain in his back and decides it's time to put the girls down. Will goes off running back to her toys but Wren hangs on, unable to let go of the comfort. "C'mon Wren. At least let me take my shoes off."

"But you'll come back?" She's completely wide-eyed and worried. Whenever she's in need of reassurance, Alex fears it's his fault. That he went on tour when they were too young and ever since Alex is certain he has caused them abandonment issues.

He told you this once, late at night, after Wren had cried for him to not leave her alone in her room. He stayed with her until she fell asleep and would have fallen asleep beside her if you hadn't come to collect him. Under the covers, he told you this fear and regret, at first, you laughed, insisting Wren was just clingy. Alex chose to believe you if only to fall asleep that night.

Sometime after midnight, Wren came into yours and Alex's bedroom, tugging on Alex's hand making sure that he was still there, still breathing, still real. Her little whimpers woke you up. Alex hugged Wren to his chest and you ran a hand down the sensitive girl's back. She kept saying, "You were gone. You left." You tried your best to minimize Alex's worries but he felt this fear to be true and a hidden part of him thinks you blame him too.

Alex kisses Wren's plump baby cheek, placing her tiny feet on the wooden floor. "Always," he assured her. She toddles cautiously back to the toys to join her sister.

But then there's one more girl he has to take care of. "Are you going to make me mac & cheese?" You ask, approaching him, and slinging your arms around his neck. His hand finds its rightful place on the small of your back, the one where you always feel an ache when his hand isn't there.

He pulls you closer to him, pressing her body up against his, your faces so close, your noses just barely not touching. "I'll make you whatever you want." His lips pucker expectantly, waiting for yours to collide with them.

"Anything?" You raise an eyebrow.

He relaxes his lips and quirks a smile. "Yeah, I can make you the unicorn-shaped mac & cheese."

"Wow," you laugh, "you really are my prince charming."

He puckers his lips again. "Hurry up and kiss me, would you?" You give in because he's so cute talking about mac and cheese and there's a flutter in his eyes that you can tell means he had a long day so you won't put up much of a fight, especially when he kisses you just right.

You pull away and ask, "Long day?"

Alex shrugs. "I'm where I want to be now. How was it here?" He runs his hand up and down your right arm.

You sigh as you begin to feel the weight of the day"Good. No fights. Wren didn't nap."

Alex throws his head back. "Don't tell me that."

That fear ticks away inside him but you grab his hand and squeeze it. "It's not because of you. It allowed me to have Wren & me time considering she's a daddy's girl and Will's constant desire to be the center of attention, but don't tell her I told you that."

He chuckles. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Now come on with the mac & cheese!"

Later, when he's cooking dinner, Wren clings to his leg. Will is singing loudly in the living room and he can hear you clapping along with her.

"Mac & cheese?" Wren asks him.

"Almost done," Alex promises, picking her up by the straps of her overalls and depositing her onto the counter. "Would you do today? Did you have fun with mummy and Will?"

Wren simply nods with a smile, which is a good sign, no frowns in sight.

But she tugs away at his heart, making grabby hands for him. She's always been clingy, enjoying the feeling of being held, but he can't help but feel that she's spent the whole day missing him, not able to have any fun.

"Do you maybe want to come to work with me tomorrow, honey?" He knows he should ask you about this and Willow will have to come along or she'll throw a temper tantrum but sometimes he thinks Wren needs a little extra love. She doesn't shout for attention in the manner Willow does. Sometimes she needs to be noticed and needs to feel special.

Then, Wren starts doing that happy gurgle-laugh thing. She swings her legs, tiny socked feet hitting the utensil drawer. She nods quickly, completely excited. "I'll have to talk with mummy about it but you and me will do something special. That sound nice?"

"Yeah!" She squeals and claps her hands.

Her excitement rubs off on Alex, giving him something to smile about. He nuzzles his nose with hers. He can't get over how precious she is. "Yeah," he repeats, completely content. In moments like this, he doesn't feel like he's completely failed as a parent.

Willow comes walking in, patting her stomach, asking, "Is the mac & cheese ready? I'm 'ungry."

Putting the twins to bed can either be the easiest part of the day or the hardest. Wren nearly passes out in the bathtub, running on limited sleep. Willow refuses to stay in bed. When you leave the room, she pops out of bed and starts playing with her toys in the dark.

Alex goes in to kiss her goodnight after he lays Wren down and finds her bouncing on her bed. She stalls at the sight of Alex, clear that she has been caught out. "Bedtime, missy," he tells her.

She giggles but plops down on her butt. "I'm not tired," she states like there is simply no argument to be made.

Alex sighs and sits on the edge of her tiny bed. "But I'm tired."

"You can go to bed. That's okay, daddy." She touches his arm like she's reassuring him she'll be fine.

Alex huffs a laugh into his hand. He doesn't want Will to get excited that she's making her dad laugh. "I can't go to bed unless you go to bed. It's the rules."

She closes her eyes and flops down on the bed dramatically, pushing the air loudly out of her pillow. "Fine." She seems like she's making an attempt, but then she opens her eyes wide and demands, "Story first."

He knows you probably read her two stories already and he shouldn't give in but you're in the shower and he'll be waiting all alone in bed for you so why shouldn't he kill some time with one of his girls? "One."

She claps her little kiddie hands. "You can pick," she says like she's doing him a favour.

And she kind of is because if he has to read Goldilocks again, he might lose it. "Rumplestiltskin it is." He's always liked it and he knows Will likes the straw turning into gold part.

He picks up the book of the collected Brothers Grimm fairy tales. Part of him can never deny reading the girls (including you) a story. You all do the same thing: cuddle up beside him, lay your head on his arm, point at the pictures, and say a comment on every sentence if only to make reading time just a bit longer. Will curls his fingers around his forearm and falls asleep halfway through the story but he finishes it anyway. Partly because he knows if Will is pretending to be asleep and he doesn't finish the whole thing she'll insist he has to read her another one. (The other part because he loves the story).

You've just exited the bathroom with wet hair and a towel wrapped around you when Alex enters your bedroom. "Everyone went to sleep alright?" You're going through the drawers, looking for pajamas.

"Yeah. Will had me read her another story but she conked out quick."

You smirk. "Will had you read another story or you wanted to read another story?"

He rolls his eyes at you mocking him before admitting, "Both."

You laugh at him, your sweet boy. The house can feel overrun with girls sometimes, even the cat is a girl, but Alex never seems to mind. He likes all the girlish things the girls like. Tea parties and dress-up, although, he did get noticeably a little more excited when the girls started kicking around a football. But then Alex just said, "Girls are better at football anyway."

He's better at tea parties than football anyway. He doesn't even try to pretend to lose to the girls when they play 2 v. 1 with him. They are sneaky and tiny and like Pepper does, they wrap around and slide through his legs to kick into his goal. Meanwhile, he thrives at the tea parties, drinking whatever concoction the girls make, even if it tastes like plastic. You always pretend to sip but Alex is the real deal. Always has been.

"Did you miss me while I was gone?" He asks, leaning against the wall, trying to tempt you.

You smile, dropping the towel, leaving you naked in his view for five seconds before you toss a T-shirt over your head. "No, not really."

The T-shirt is red and he's like a bull as he charges toward you, picks you up, and lands both of you on the bed. You're giggling affectionately into the kiss and it's completely loved-up and lovely and you both love that but Alex and you clearly want more. You push him up, off of your lips. "Shut the door."

Sex with the kids can be challenging. Before you did it every time, every surface you could find. Now, you mostly do it at night, rarely in the morning because the girls are always up early. You can't do it every night. Sometimes you can tell the girls didn't fall asleep or you're tired or Alex passed out while you were in the shower.

Despite the scheduling-sounding nature of things, sex still seems spontaneous. Like a random gust of wind felt upon the skin. Alex always makes things exciting and after doing it more times than you can count, it never bores. The predictability of it is what makes it so charged, so romantic, so sexual, so loving. You can tell by the thrust of his hips whether he's close or not. He can tell by the furrow of your brow whether he's hitting that spot in you or not. It has always felt right.

He's fast in his steps, locking the door, and pretty much launching himself back onto the bed. He covers you, completely all over you, kissing you, feeling you up. He reaches under your shirt, pushing it up to expose your boobs, but not taking it off. He grabs them, a fistful at first, then just the nipple. He kisses down your neck, over the collection of your shirt's fabric, onto the skin of your boobs, and then the areola, licking over the wrinkles of it before meeting the erected nipple.

There are times when you do devote time to foreplay. Alex loves it. You love it. Both ways. You both have always been reciprocal naturally. You never need to ask the other for more. In fact, more often you ask for less. Like...

"This feels really nice," you tell him, "but I'm tired and I know you're tired so just fuck me, okay?"

"Okay," he agrees, breathing heavily already. He stands to take his clothes off. You don't bother shedding the top. He can fondle your boobs just fine with it still on and it provides an emergency cover if one of the girls walks in.

Alex lays back on you intently, kissing you harshly. You reach down to hold his cock, pumping him a few times before his hand takes over and slides into you. The idea of it is quick but the pace is rocking, not fast, not slow, just right. You furrow your brows and arch up into him. He reaches into the space underneath the arch and holds you, completely skin-to-skin. He lays kisses on your neck in no particular pattern like he isn't even trying to turn you on more, he just wants to do it.

You grip the back of his head's hair, clumps in your compressed grasp. "More," you urge, needing just a little more to tip over.

His mouth moves next to your ear, whispering, "Want me to fuck another baby into you?"

It makes you snort a laugh right in the middle of sex. You have to physically stop his hips from moving as you collect your breath. "What? Another set of twins?"

"Yeah. With my super sperm." He's jokingly bragged about that with you since you found out you were having twins. You corrected him and said it was your eggs that made the twins since they're fraternal. He said, "No, it was a really good load, I remember." It's always made you laugh.

"Twin boys now?" You ask.

He shrugs. "Or more girls? I don't mind."

Everything about him is calm, but there is sincerity in all of it. "Are we seriously talking about more kids while you're inside me?"

Alex makes small movements inside you. "Yeah, come on." He leans closer and closer to you. "We make cute kids. The girls are older. I know you want it."

You place your hands on his shoulders. "Right now I just want you so can we do that part before the 9-month part?"

He nods. "Cart before the horse."

You laugh and tug him down into your shoulder. You whisper into his ear as his hips begin to move harder and harder, "Fuck a baby into me."

Alex chuckles and kisses your jugular. He quickens, both of you feeling an ache for release conjuring inside you. He moves harder and pulls your hips to him. He's doing all the work, but he doesn't mind, he likes doing this for you, likes being good for you. That's all he wants to do.

"That feel good?" He has asked this almost every time you've had sex like, no matter what, even after doing this for years, he wants to make sure it's as good as the last time.

You hum in the affirmative, feeling too overwhelmed to talk clearly. Your grip around his neck tightens as you drag him closer down to you. He keeps thrusting into you hard, skin hitting skin sounding across the room.

"So fucking tight," he groans into your ear.

His pace is quick, erratic, and eager. His breath is heavy and filled with soft grunts. His hands are rough, squeezing on your hips. You know he's holding on for you but you want him to enjoy it too. It doesn't always have to be about you. "Let go," you tell him.

But he's hot for it, not rejecting your request like you thought he would. "You want it?" He asks.

You nod, fluttering eyes.

"Tell me," he says, pounding deep.

You scrap your nails down his back soothingly. "I want it. Deep in me." He hums, requesting more without saying it. "Fill me up with your cum. Please."

Maybe it's your words, maybe it's how close he was, or maybe it's both, but he cums instantly after, deep inside you, filling you up. He groans and pants into your neck. He rests inside you, holding everything in, while he catches his breath. You comb your fingers through his hair, calming him.

He raises his head so he's looking down on you. "You okay?"

You softly smile, exhaustion hovering over you. "Yeah."

"You don't cum," he comments.

You shrug. "I got what I wanted."

Alex grunts. "God, you're gonna make me cum again."

You push him up, making him hiss at the sensitivity. "Don't," you command.

He pulls out slowly and before you can even say anything, he's got his fingers inside you, keeping all that cum in, making a mess on his finger. It takes you off guard, making you moan instantly. He's quick with everything, knowing you want to go to bed, hoping to release the tension and ease you into relaxation.

His two fingers shove in and out of you rapidly. He curls them just in the right spot, making you moan, "Fuck." His thumb grazes over your clit, just like how he knows to do it. It's messy, the whole thing is a mess, but it feels like the hottest thing ever, and soon your hips are unable to stay still and you're coming.

It's your turn to catch your breath and he's licking your shared cum off his hands. He makes a face. "I don't think I've ever tasted my own cum."

You reach out and grab his hand, taking the still-dirty finger into your mouth, and licking it clean. "You've made me taste both before."

He kisses your lips before getting off the bed to grab tissues. "Don't act like it was against your will. I recall you liking it."

You sigh, sitting up and fixing your shirt. "We're gonna have to change the sheets."

Alex hands you a few tissues and says, "I'll do it. You clean yourself up." You'll always accept him doing all the work.

It’s three in the morning when a tiny hand shakes Alex awake, and he opens his eyes to find Wren there holding her stuffed teddy bear against her chest, cheeks wet from crying. “I wet the bed.”

“Oh,” Alex says, while his heart rate settles. He looks around to get his bearings and finds you out of it to his right, curled up on your side. He blinks the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes as Wren sniffles miserably, and he pushes up to wipe her jaw dry. “Hey, it’s okay, baby. It just happens sometimes, alright?”

“But I'm not ‘posed to,” she croaks. “I’m supposed to be a big girl now. I’m sorry.”

“No, hey,” Alex kisses her forehead. “It’ll be fine, come on.”

She holds onto his hand and he leads her into the bathroom, running the water to warm and filling the tub with strawberry-scented bubbles. Once she’s in, he lets her play with her rubber ducks for a while to calm down. She splashes them and chews on their tails and presses their drawn-on smiles to his cheek as a kiss. "Muah," she says, and he loves her so much it hurts.

He runs a hand over her damp hair. “I’m gonna go fix your bed, okay? Just keep playing.”

Wren nods, so he leaves her with the door wide open and the light cascading into the hall. Strips her bed of the old sheets and carries them over to the wash. When he comes back, she’s resting her chin against the edge of the tub, waiting for him.

His head tilts, looking down at her big eyes on her little face. “Hey, Peanut.”

“Hi,” she says, timid. “Do you still love me?”

Alex frowns and sits down in front of her on the cold tile. “Why wouldn’t I still love you?”

“M’no good,” she whispers. “M’not small anymore, and I miss you all the time, and—”

“Alright, hey,” Alex cuts in gently, pushing her hair behind her ears to hold her face, all flushed chubby cheeks. He hates himself. Feels like he has made her feel this way. Made her feel unloved and he'll beat himself up for it every day. Never forgive himself for making her doubt his love. "I know I’ve been gone a lot, and I’m really sorry, but I miss you the whole time I’m away. All I wanna do is be here with you, okay? I promise. I love you,” he says, kissing her freckled nose and watching it crinkle up, “so much. I hope you know that.”

She nods, bites her lower lip, and chews. “You love mummy?”

“Yes,” Alex says. “Tons.”

“Is tons a lot?” She asks, and he notices her eyes flit over his shoulder, which gives him a pretty good idea of why she’s asking.

“It is,” he confirms, glancing behind him and finding you in the doorway, hair thrown up, wearing that ratty old red tee. You grin and lean against the door jamb, eyes soft. “The better question is: does mummy love daddy?”

You laugh. “Tons squared,” she promises. “Come on, it’s bedtime, baby.”

“Can I sleep with you?” Wren asks, anxious.

Alex kisses her cheek. “Of course,” he says and leans around her to pull the drain. You come over to help her dry off and Alex goes to grab her fresh pajamas. You both help her dress because she’s all sleepy from the warmth of the bath, and she’d get lost in her shirt if you weren’t around. Alex picks her up and carries her to their bed, laying her down between them so they can both hold her.

"You okay, honey?" You ask Wren, running your fingers through her hair, calming her like you do for him.

She nods, her eyes slowly closing, sleep taking her away from you.

Alex kisses her cheek lightly, not wanting to disturb her sleep. "Love you."

You repeat his action, kissing her baby skin cheek. "Me too." But she's already fallen asleep, exhausted from her little life.

You look across at Alex, his eyes cautiously looking over Wren. "Hey," you whisper to him to grab his attention. His gaze meets yours, his eyes solemn, but affectionate. "Love you."

He smiles because that's just what he needs. That's all he'll ever need. "Me too."

A hand pushes on your back somewhere around 4 in the morning. You turn around at the expected sight: Willow holding her stuffed teddy bear, thumb in her mouth, scared little eyes.

"What's wrong, baby?" You ask her, reaching out and smoothing back her messy hair.

"I had a night'are." Her voice wobbles. Alex and Wren are still sound asleep. You reach down to pick her up, laying her on your chest and hugging her to you, wanting to keep her safe from all the evil things awakening her.

"Everything's okay," you reassure.

"What's wrong?" You turn to see Alex, alert and worried rubbing his eyes.

"Nightmare."

Willow turns her head to look at her dad. "Oh," she says, "there's Wen. I was scared she wasn't where she was."

Alex reaches his arm over a sleeping Wren and rubs Willow's back, hushing her rapid heartbeat. "She's been in here. She got scared too but she's okay. She's sleeping now."

Willow keeps her voice low, understanding to keep quiet. "I went lookin' for her but she wasn't in her room."

"Why did you go to her room, honey? Why didn’t you come in here?" You ask.

"'Cause I always go there when I'm scared. Wen goes 'Everyting's okay' and then I know it will be 'cause she said so." She's so sweet, she hides it sometimes, doesn't like to give it away, she's careful with who she gives it to and you're sure nobody loves someone like Willow and Wren love each other. For that, Alex doesn't have to worry. He knows Willow and Wren will always look out for each other.

You kiss Willow's cheek and slide her carefully next to Wren. The bed is just big enough to fit you all but you have to hold steady to not tip off the bed. The girls are comfortable though and that's all that matters.

"We should sleep in here all the time," Willow says.

You and Alex both laugh quietly at your little girl. "Maybe," Alex says.

"Pep should be here too."

So, Alex goes and gets Pepper.

a/n: i hope the names are fine. i just tried to pick two twin-sounding names. whatever that means.

#alex turner fic #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x reader #alex turner x oc #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x you #alex turner #alex turner smut #junedenim

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anakinstwinklebunny · 1 month ago

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LEGO TYPE OF LOVE..

PAIRING: nerd!anakin x f!reader

𝓕𝓛𝓤𝓕𝓕 ❦

────୨ৎ────

Summer - beaming sun, chirping birds, early mornings, heat up air..Yet for ANAKIN SKYWALKER it wasn't an excuse to not dress officially to school. Shirt pressed so perfectly you could cut yourself on the creases, tie snug against his collar, and his jacket, despite the heat, still near him, tied around his waist as it swung neatly around his legs as he walked. You hold his hand the entire way, fingers tangled with his, feeling the slight clamminess of his palm--a tell-tale sign he’s nervous, even if he’s trying to play it cool.

“Are you hot in that?” you teased, trying to lighten the tension

He shrugs, lips twitching like he’s fighting a smile. “I’m fine. I--it’s… comfortable.”

You snort softly, squeezing his hand. “Sure it is.”

When you get to his house, Anakin barely got the door open before a high-pitched squeal echoed from inside. Suddenly, a whirlwind of giggles and energy crashed into you, and you’re almost knocked off your feet.

“You’re here! I can't believe it! Ani finally brought you back! This time nothing will tear us apart” her lips curling into, what you interpreted, as too-excited and too-scary smile

Little Ahsoka clung to your legs, small arms squeezing you as tight as she could. With big eyes sparkling as she started babbling about everything that’s happened since the last time she saw you.

“I coloured a picture for you! Wanna see it? Wait, no! Look at my braid! Mom did it! Do you like it? Are you staying for dinner? Pleeease stay for dinner!”

Anakin watched the scene while taking his shoes off, muttering something about your feet being cold if you're not gonna put on some light shoes he had offered. He's trying to gently make ahsoka acknowledge the meaning and purpose of your appearance but the eight year old just furrows her brows, before taking you by hand and dragging you already further into the house.

Anakin already groans and there's a small argument between him and Ahsoka about who you should spend time with, before Shmi overheads the chaos going on, ans gets downstairs. Her face lighted up the moment it landed on yours, and she greeted you by pulling you into a gentle, motherly hug. “It’s always so good to see you, dear,” she said warmly, voice warm like a sunshine outside “I hope you’re staying for dinner?”

Before you can answer, Anakin caught the opportunity and gently tugged at your hand, pulling you away from his family. “Maybe later,” he mumbled before you could even reply, cheeks pink as he glanced towards the stairs. “We, uh… have some stuff to do. So..uh..we're gonna be upstairs..and mom please keep 'Soka away” he whined

Shmi gives him a knowing smile, gently taking Ahsoka's hand so they'd go to the garden as Anakin pulls you up to his room.

As soon as the door shuts behind you, he’s kicking off his shoes and flopping onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. He looks at you expectantly, already patting the space next to him.

“Come here.”

You don’t even get a chance to sit properly before he pulls you down beside him, wrapping his long arms around you like a human octopus. Nose nuzzled into your hair, and he exhales a content sigh, entire body relaxing against yours.

"you've made quite a scene" you mumble teasingly, although with a hint of true

"I just want to cuddle..forget about this awful day.." he numbled, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back. "And with 'Soka being too excited to see you I'd not even be able to breath the same air as yours.."

Time passes by and, somehow, he shifted--he’s on his back now, and you’re lying on his chest, cheek pressed to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. One of his hands stroked your hair while the other rests on your hip, holding you close like he’s afraid you might disappear.

“I was thinking…”

You hum softly, fingers toying with the buttons on his shirt. “Hmm?”

“Maybe…” He hesitates, and you tilt your head to look up at him. His cheeks are a little pink as he clears his throat, giving you the perfect view for his adam apple. “Maybe we could play Lego's?”

You blink, surprised. “Lego's?”

“Yeah,” he says quickly, voice a little defensive now. “I’ve got a huge collection. I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to, but—”

You laugh softly, cutting him off with a kiss on his cheek. “I’d love to, Ani.”

His face lighted up, a boyish grin spreading across his lips, but then he frowns slightly, tightening his hold on you.

“But…” He pouts “I don’t wanna stop cuddling yet.”

You giggle, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “We can cuddle and play with LEGO, you know.”

He raises an eyebrow. “How does that even work?”

“I have no idea know,” you whisper, smiling. “But maybe if we do find out, they'll start writing about us in books" which only makes him giggle

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca

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redzie02 · 8 months ago

Text

Imagining Wooyoung as a girl dad

quick imagine ...ur honor i love him and im here to push the girl dad! wooyoung agenda masterlist

wooyoung loves kids, even more so when they're his kids

your daughter had just been born a few months ago and he'd had a hard time leaving her side

when she would cry in the middle of the night, he'd jump out of bed before you could even process what was going on. you'd sleepily walk into the nursery to find him rocking her back and forth in his arms, mumbling whatever was on his mind in the softest voice. all with a smile on his face. the love he wore in his eyes was one so special that not even the greatest artists would be able to capture it

he'd always tell you how amazingly you were doing, ridding any doubts and insecurities you had about becoming a new parent

but oh was Wooyoung greedy with your daughter-so clingy he was with her

kisses. so many little kisses. forehead kisses, kisses over her eyes, nose, her tiny knuckles.

as soon as you were done feeding her, he'd whisk her away from your arms and pat her back until she burped, cradling her afterwards.

he'd snatch her from you so often that it started to frustrate you

you whined, "wooyoung! she's not gonna remember who I am if you keep taking her away like that."

"ah, sorry. i just can't stop thinking about having to go back to work in a couple weeks. I don't want to miss anything."

"i know, but just- remember she's not just your baby, okay?"

introducing your daughter to rest of ateez had certainly been fun. so many ranges of emotions- a few crying at the sight of the tiny scrunched face, some scared to hold her, some a little too excited to toss the fragile baby in the air

you and Woo walked into the room with your daughter in her carrier, confused when you took in their appearances- absolutely dressed to the nines. "Oh- are you guys performing after this?"

San spoke with his cat like grin. "Nope, Wooyoung told us to dress up for this."

You raised an eyebrow at your husband, not knowing a thing about whatever was going on.

Woo shrugged. "What? First impressions are important."

They'd all watch in awe at the little being yawning then falling asleep immediately after in Seonghwa's arms, her tiny hand loosening its grip on his index finger

"Wow, she's so cute...thank god she looks nothing like Wooyoung," Mingi joked, earning a slap on the shoulder.

"Shut up, she's my twin." And he would proudly prove so, pulling out his phone to find his own baby pictures.

Whenever it was possible, he'd have the three of you wearing matching outfits he custom made himself, down to the tiniest details- the jewelry, the shoes, socks and hair ties.

Cuteness aggression would overtake his senses when you would walk into the living room, daughter in arm, twirling to show off the outfits he put together. He'd clap and beg for another twirl, pulling out his camera and snapping pictures of the two he loved most. He'd go through the photos with tears in his eyes, zooming in and showing you his favorite ones.

He loved to go on dates to flaunt the outfits, driving you to the park and picking the perfect spot; under a tree with branches that drooped, providing the perfect amount of protection from the sun (and he made sure little baby had her sunscreen on). He'd smooth your favorite picnic blanket on the grass and set up the food- he had packed the baby's food and necessities before anything else. He'd take out his camera, adjust the settings, then snap more photos, excited to edit and print them out later. He always kept a photo of you three in his wallet, switching it out for a new one every week.

With every year that went by, you noticed her personality only grew to be more like Wooyoung's. Between the constant babbling and the energetic outbursts, there was never a quiet day at home. Her and Wooyoung could ramble about nothing for hours, not taking a breath once.

She'd even adopted the habit of sloppily kissing your cheek whenever you were near.

Before Wooyoung, you weren't a fan of so much physical touch, but now you can't go a single hour without expecting a kiss on the cheek or forehead from either of your true loves.

a/n: im so sleepy and this is all i could think about. i have so many drafts but my writing is subpar so i leave u with an imagine. might do these more often

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez x y/n #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung fanfic #jung wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x y/n #wooyoung x you #ateez imagines #wooyoung imagines #jung wooyoung #redzie02

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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 year ago

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ponytail

words: 1k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, blowjob, face fucking a bit, hair play?, mentions of thigh riding, public sex

“can i join you today rafey?” you ask, plopping down on his lap.

“join me for what?” he questions, dropping his phone onto the couch, the weather app still opened up, checking the radar and wind direction.

“golf, duh.” you say like it's obvious. he does usually go on fridays, so it's no surprise that he would be going today, especially since it was pretty sunny out

“oh.” rafe says, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “you really want to go with me?”

“mhm.” you nod. “i bought a new golf skirt.”

“ah, now it makes sense.” rafe laughs, pulling you into his chest when you pout. “of course you can come baby.”

“yay!” you press a kiss to his lips, your hands coming to rest on his strong jaw. “im gonna go get ready.”

you hop up off of rafes lap, but not before giving him another kiss. you head upstairs, excited to get dressed in your new golfing outfit. you apply makeup, figuring you'd get rafe to take some cute pictures of you for instagram.

you tie your hair up in a ponytail before adjusting your skirt and putting on your golf shoes.

“all ready, rafey.” you bound back down the stairs. rafe perks up instantly when he sees you in your tiny skirt.

“you look hot.” rafe says as he stands, coming over to deliver a kiss.

“thanks baby.” you smile, rafe still managing to make you blush even after you've been together for over a year.

“come on, let's go before it gets too busy.” rafe says, taking your hand in his as he leads you out the door.

“rafe, cut it out.” you say with a laugh as his hands find a way to your waist again.

“i can't help it baby, you look so good.” he groans, pulling your body against his, not letting you swing your club and hit the golf ball.

“i know, but i gotta hit this! don't you wanna move on to the next hole?” you question. it's an easy putt, which is all you really like to do. you always start your turn from where rafes first hit lands, it makes golf easier and more enjoyable for you. rafe even lets you drive the cart from time to time.

“wanna move on to your next hole.” rafe says, making you lean against him as you howl with laughter.

“that was so stupid!”

“shut up.” rafe groans, burying his head in your shoulder, glad that you wore a tank top today that didn't cover too much of your skin as he kisses where your neck meets your shoulder.

“you are corny, rafe cameron.” you say with a roll of your eyes, pulling away from his grabby hands so you can finally make your putt.

you line up your shoot before tapping the ball into the hole, letting out a whoop in happiness at getting it in.

“good job.” rafe says, giving you a high five.

you retrieve your ball before heading to the next hole, frowning when rafe turns the golf cart the wrong direction.

“uh… rafe?” you question as he pulls behind a patch of woods.

“wanna suck me off baby?” he questions as he puts the cart into park, looking over at where you are perched on the golf cart next to him.

“oh!” you squeal, now understanding why he took you to the one secluded part of the course. “yes!”

rafe laughs, stepping out of the cart and moving to the other side. you get on your knees in the cart, not wanting to dirty them in the grass.

rafe tugs his zipper down as you work the button open, mouth already salivating.

you pull his pants down to his thighs, his underwear coming with it as his cock perks up, already hardening. rafe glances around, double checking that no one is around as you grasp his cock.

you open your mouth, stroking over his cock as you rub the head against your tongue. rafe lets out a quiet moan, his hand moving to grip your ponytail.

“gonna fuck your mouth, yeah?” rafe questions. he wants to let you take your time, but he also doesn’t want to get in trouble with the country club if he gets caught.

you nod, opening your mouth as rafe pushes your head down on his cock, his hips pushing forward at the same time. you place your hands on his thighs to keep yourself steady as he uses your ponytail to guide you up and down.

rafe only takes it slow for a minute before he begins to snap his hips forward, his cock growing inside your mouth.

he wraps your ponytail around his head for a better grip. you squeeze your eyes closed at the pain of your hair being pulled, you panties flooding with wetness.

“good girl.” rafe praises you, pumping faster. you moan around his length, glad that you have enough practice on his cock to accommodate him easily, remembering when you first blew him and was unable to take him all the way into your mouth.

you whine as rafe yanks on your hair, using your mouth to get himself off. your throat constricts around him as you resist the urge to cough, managing to squeeze your fists tightly and avoid gagging.

rafe picks his head up from looking at you to glance around again, but he sees no carts or players nearby.

“gonna cum in your mouth baby.” rafe warns, imagining if you did get caught, if someone saw you being such a good slut for him, your jaw slack as his cock pulses in your mouth.

rafe releases quickly after his warning, cum spurting into your mouth. you moan around his length, sucking gently as you help him ride out his high.

rafe pulls you off by your ponytail, tucking his cock back into his pants and redoing them.

“you messed up my hair.” you pout, trying to smooth out your ponytail.

“sorry, baby.” rafe says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. you wipe your mouth and move to sit back on the seat of the cart, stretching your legs out.

“wanna ride my thigh to make up for it?” rafe asks, sticking his leg out.

“oh, yes!” you squeal, sliding over to push your crotch into his thigh, straddling him.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre

#fun fact i fucking hate this fic!#i just had a different picture in my mind but ugh whatever #i wanna move on #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe cameron x you #obx x reader #obx fic

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lilozzzyo · 3 months ago

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Mr. & Mrs. Simon Riley

Summary: Simon Riley comes home late, and is blessed with the visual of you, his wife, asleep on the couch waiting for him. Warnings: MDNI, female reader is smaller then Simon (because I am apparently obsessed with large men), I don't own this man (but I guess I wasn't meant to be happy), General fluff, Simon's POV, Reader has curves and Simon is OBSESSED with his lovely wife, slightly suggestive, You and Simon are married

Simon was supposed to be home by 10pm which you of course knew meant midnight. So here you were on your couch waiting up for him after a long day at work. You had picked up his favorite take out on your way home, cleaned the house and got a jump on the laundry before your husband came home. You were wearing your leggings, a grey camisole, and your favorite cardigan as you tried to stay up for your husband. Suffice to say all of this took it out of you, you're not sure when exactly you fell asleep but you do vaguely remember seeing the clock strike midnight.

(Simon's POV)

It was after 3am when he finally managed to get home, he saw from the outside that all the lights were still on, he was quite surprised as he assumed his precious little wife was still awake and waiting up for him. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to be home with you, his precious bird, cuddled in his arms. He unlocked the door, walked in, and started to take off his shoes as he called for you, "Lovie, ya' still up?" he asked as he turned the corner after taking his gear and moving towards the living room to see you curled up on the couch in your favorite cardigan, painting just the perfect sight to his tired eyes.

Simon smiled to himself as he stared down at you. Simon loved you, and loved when you would wait up for him to come home from his deployment. You would run to him, drape your arms around him, help him out of his gear before throwing it into the wash. Before searching him for new scars and bruises before proceeding to kiss all over his face and saying how happy you are that he is home safe. Before gently forcing him to take a shower. Which always ends with you being dragged in, as you giggle and try to escape his hungry grasp, as he paws at your now drenched clothes wanting to be close to you and not let you go. He can't help but be a bit clingy whenever he comes home from deployment. Being away from the light of his existence can be a bit difficult for him for obvious reasons. So when he comes home he wants you and only you, he wants to hold you, kiss you, sink into the warmth of your body until his brain shuts off, and al he can think of is your beautiful face.

But this, you passed out, exhausted from waiting up for him was also the picture of pleasure to him. See the thing is as Simon loves you, borderline is obsessed with you and if he had it his way he would just sit and watch you all day and all night. You however never let him just sit and stare at you, always jumping into his lap, laughing and asking "why ya starin, Karen?" and attacking him with kisses until he finally blinks. Yet here you are, a pure feast to his starving gaze, your alluring eyes closed peacefully as you breath deeply with your full lips slightly parted. Your chest raising and falling in an easy rhythm putting your breasts on full display barely being help in your tiny little camisole, your curves barely hidden under your favorite oversized cardigan, you shapely thighs on full display in your tight little leggings. He stood in front of the couch staring down at you enjoying himself as he lets his eyes roam your figure until his heart is content, and if an hour passes of just him standing over you slightly creepily watching you sleep then who would even know.

He chuckles to himself as he finally steps back and gets himself into a hot shower, enjoying the water and uninterrupted time before putting on a pair of loose sweatpants and coming back out into the living room to turn off the lights, and tv that he just realized has been on this entire time. He smiles to himself wondering how a man like him managed such a sweet, soft, gentle bird like you. He picked you up with ease as he walked you to the bedroom. Putting you into bed first before sliding behind you on the other side to drag you closer to him. Gently wrapping his arms around your frame as he pressed his face into your hair enjoying a deep inhale as he tangled his burly legs with yours. Pressing a loving peck to you neck before whispering "Goodnight dove."

(Your POV)

You're not sure how you made it to bed, but based on the annoyed grunt your husband gave you when you moved your head you could take a pretty good guess. You giggle before gently lifting his large hand and kissing his knuckles and saying "Welcome home baby," he chuckles still only half awake before kissing the top of your head and responding into your hair, "Thanks lovie," and before you can respond he pulls you impossibly closer into his firm chest and drifts back off to sleep. You try to pull away to get up and start your day "Simon baby, ya wanna maybe let go so I can get up and get a move on?" he simply shakes his head with his face still firmly pressed into your hair, "Absolutely not, you aren't leavin this bed. I have been away from you for too long. Just let me keep you a for a bit longer pet, yeah." You smile to yourself and rub your hand up and down his arms and "Okay baby, but only because I love you" he gently bumps his nose against the op of your head and chuckles "not as much as I love you dove."

Thank you for all of the support, I have randomly had this idea in my head all day so I figured I would just write it out. Hope you enjoy and thanks again!

#cod #cod fic #cod fanfic #ghost cod #cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #pervy simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley

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peachsukii · 8 months ago

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₊✩‧₊ ⎯ Decorating Sakura’s Room 『 ♡ sakura haruka x reader 』

content // after seeing sakura's empty room for the first time, you're determined to make him feel more at home with a few additions.

note // tumblr decided not to post this yesterday for softie sunday lol so here it is!

Sakura's always deterred you from coming back to his place for your date nights, avoiding the topic altogether by offering to meet up at Pothos or to watch movies at your place instead. For the first month or so of dating, you didn't question it much, but now? It's getting suspicious. What did he have to hide from you?

"C'mon, we always go to my apartment. Why do you never have me over?"

Your demand has Sakura sweating, unable to come up with a logical excuse to keep you away any longer. He knows damn well that you can see right through his lies...and he has a terrible poker face around you.

"Fine, but don't expect much," he mutters, stomping passed you and continuing down the street. When you approach his front door, he takes a deep breath before twisting the handle.

"Do you not lock your door?!" You exclaim, noticing he didn't have a set of keys on him. "Saku, that's dangerous as hell!"

"S'not a big deal," he mumbles before kicking his shoes off into the corner, completely ignoring the shoe rack behind the door. "Don't have anythin' to steal, anyways."

You're confused by his words until you get a decent look at the apartment. It's...bare. Not a single decorative item in sight.

"Did you just move into this place?" you ask, confused. You're slowly making your way back to his bedroom, awestruck by the lack of evidence that anyone lives here.

"Nah, been here since I got to Makochi."

You turn to face him, a sad glint in your eyes before shaking your head. It makes him swallow nervously, the tips of his ears warming by the second. You don't say another word about it for the rest of the day.

A couple days pass until the two of you have plans again. You insist to meet at Sakura's place, and after lots of begging, he begrudgingly agrees. When you finally arrive to his place, you can barely knock on the door with how full your hands are with numerous bags of gifts. He opens the door as your mid-swing with your foot to "knock," immediately overwhelmed by the amount of stuff on your person.

"Th' hell is all this?!" Sakura shouts while attempting to grab a few of the bags from your hands. "Yer like a walkin' target with all this! Get in here already!"

"Sorry, Saku. I couldn't help it."

Sakura places the bags on the floor, slowly peaking through them to investigate just what the hell you've unloaded into his space. There are tons of essential items in neutral tones - a few sets of towels, a bath mat, two pillows and silk cases, a 4 set of plates and bowls, silverware, a pair of black house slippers, a brand new reusable water bottle, a water filter for the fridge, and a picture frame.

"I might've went a little overboard," you say sheepishly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "I felt bad you didn't have anything to make your home feel like your own. So I got you some things to warm it up, make it feel more permanent and a place you like, not just one you sleep in."

Sakura's speechless - devastated, even. He can't comprehend what he did to deserve your sweetness, biting his lip to keep his emotions caged. His cheeks are ablaze as he picks up the picture frame, noticing the plastic film is missing and there's a familiar set of pictures behind the glass.

"I went ahead and put in the pictures we took at the photo booth from the theater on our first date, you don't need to keep⎯ "

Your silenced by Sakura's lips capturing yours, his shaky hands cradling your face. Your squeak of surprise makes his heart skip a beat.

"Thank you," he whispers as you part, moving to wrap you up in a tight hug. "Yer...always so warm, like bein' under the sun on a hot day. I'm still getting used to that feelin', but this helps more than you know."

Your heart swells as you lay your head on his shoulder, absorbing all of his affection in the moment.

"Of course, Sakura. You deserve to be happy and feel like you belong."

His grip tightens on your shirt, a shiver running down his spine at your words. One day, he'll be able to tell you how you've made him feel at home for awhile now, and that the material possession are a nonfactor.

You pull back from his hug and pat him on the shoulders. "I'll help you put everything away and whatnot."

The two of you spend the next hour unpacking all of the goodies you've bought, leaving the picture frame for last. Sakura grabs the frame and paces the apartment a few times, pondering where exactly he wants to put it until the perfect spot pops into his mind.

Right above the shoe rack so you can welcome him home every single day with your bright smile.

『 #reis softie sundays 』

#reis softie sundays #sakura haruka x reader #wind breaker x reader #sakura haruka fluff #wind breaker fluff

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