#okay i need to go sleep for a lil bit

[wildflowercryptid]

⚠️ spoilers for gustafa's year 4 starlight concert dialogue below! ⚠️

his follow-up dialogue from the next day :

i've slowed down on sharing screenshots from my awl playthrough, (mostly bc i'm lazy when it comes to moving them over to my phone,) but i really wanted to share these. getting these bits of dialogue from gustafa actually made me tear up and just... really made me glad that i decided to marry him in my first playthrough. he has so much love for his family and the friends he's made in the valley, it's so sweet to see him share his passion for music with them year after year.

i've actually played a few of the other bokumono / sos games before this one and love a lot of the characters from them, but i really think gustafa is one of my absolute favorite marriage candidates from the entire series now...

bonus screenshot below!

meanwhile, bea's clearly not picking up on the vibes tonight. 😔

[dinogoofymutated]

First born Headcannons! Multi/Fem!Afab! Reader - Angel, Colossus, Nightcrawler, Gambit OKAY FUCK I don't know what came over me it just happened okay??? This whole thing started thinkin about colossus and a lil baby and then I was thinking about Warren taking the nightshift with his own baby and I spiraled from there. Warren's is like twice as long as everyone elses my bad yall. If there are any typos don't make fun of me ill fix them tomorrow I'm so tired lol TWs: Childbirth mentioned (Not described tho), Babies, wholesome shit. I know that some of these characters have had kids in the comics and that these hcs may be ooc, but I do not care lol. Little bit of anxiety and panic, but everything is okay.

Warren Worthington

Warren is such a dad. I don't even know how to describe it. Like, he's not as effortlessly fatherly like Piotr is, but once he has a kid he's devoted to making sure this kid gets all the emotional, physical, and financial support they would ever need.

He had such a rocky childhood with his own dad, so he hates the idea of his child ever going through the same sort of thing.

He might be a little clueless with the actual baby things, like when to feed, how to dress, and what to feed his little one, but he does take diaper duty as his sole purpose in life. He does adjust for the things he lacks though, and gradually adjusts to be better at them!

He's strangely good with babies, even before he had his own! There's just something about him that makes them stop crying. He's also an expert at nap times.

    It’s an early weekday afternoon. The sun is shining through the blinds in warm golden rays, the sink clean and the dishwasher running. There’s a click once the message on the answering machine stops playing, and you have an uncertain frown on your face as you take it all in.

    The house is silent, brightly decorated with pictures of your close friends lining the walls of the hallway. The sounds of your husband quietly shushing your infant son gradually become easier to hear when you reach the cracked door of the nursery, pushing it open as quietly as you can.

    Warren’s back is facing you, fluffy wings almost glowing where the sunrays touch his feathers. Your newborn is sleeping in his arms, napping after a lunchtime bottle. He’s bouncing the baby just slightly, and you swear you can see his smile without ever having to see his face. It’s a sweet moment you want to crystalize in your memories. You lean against the doorway, smiling just as bright as you’re sure he is.

    "Hi~" You say sweetly after a moment. You were right. Warren’s happy smile is bright and blinding when he turns to look at you.

    "Hey," He says quickly, lifting your sleeping son so that you can see him better. "Hi Mama, say hi Mama!" Warren whispers as he lifts the baby’s pudgy little hand to wave at you. You can’t help but giggle, walking forward to kiss both of them on their cheeks- your little one not stirring from his nap. You take a breath afterward, leaning against his side as you debate telling him.

    “Something wrong?” Warren asks, one of his wings stretching out to wrap around your side and pull you closer to him. Normally you giggle, but today you bite your lip, unsure.

    "Your dad called." Your words are soft when you say it, and Warren immediately laughs in a way that sounds more like a scoff.

    “His secretary, you mean.” Warren attempts to correct, and his joking tone makes you frown a little, rubbing his upper arm in an attempt to be soothing.

    “No, not her, honey.” Warren stays silent after you say it, his brow furrowing as his face turns into a reflection of confusion and sadness. You can see the conflict as he turns the words over in his head, cooing and shushing your son back to sleep when he starts to stir a little, feeling the atmosphere shift. 

    “...what did he want?” He asks, voice low and quiet.

    “He left a message on the answering machine if you want to listen to it.” You tell him. “He, well… He wants to meet his grandson.” Warren scoffs at that, shaking his head as he starts to pace the room a little. You stand there, grounded as you watch him process the sudden contact.

    “He really said that? After all he’s put me through, he wants to meet our son… What a joke.” You grimace when Warren starts to laugh. He finally stops pacing to gently lay your son back in his crib. He leans against the side with one hand as the other rubs his eyes before it slides up to run through his hair.

    “Do you want him to?” You ask after a moment, stepping over to his side. He leans into your touch when you reach out to hold his cheek.

    “I-” Warren stops himself, taking a deep breath as he takes your hand in his own. “What do you want to do?” He asks instead. You shake your head at him, taking hold of his hand in both of yours, tracing the wedding band on his finger.

    “He’s your dad, love. It’s your choice.” You say softly. Warren is still frowning, and he lets out a long breath, deflating a little bit. He turns around to face you, pressing a kiss to your temple and holding you there for a long moment. You wish you had even a fraction of Jean’s or the Professor’s power, if only you could see what was going on in that head of his. He pulls you into a side hug, and the two of you spend a long while looking at your infant in the crib. The perfect mixture of the both of you. Certain to be a mutant in his own right. You can tell Warren spends every second thinking about it.

    When he steps away from you, He’s silent.

    “Warren?” You call out for him as he leaves the room. You’re about to follow when you hear the distinct sound of your son about to wake up, the little whine catching your attention as you coo him back to sleep instead. The door to the nursery is open, and just faintly down the hall, you hear the sound of the landline starting to ring.

    “Hey, Dad, it’s Warren. Is Saturday okay?”

Piotr Rasputin

GOD this man is so good with kids. I mean, have you seen those comic panels with him and his sister??

This man was made, built, forged to be a dad. He's protective but encouraging, and although he may be blunt, he knows when his kiddo needs some comfort.

He takes all the classes with you during the pregnancy, and he knows he'd never hurt his baby, but there's always a lil bit of worry in the back of his mind. He's a little too strong, and he hates the thought of slipping up and accidentally harming this fragile little soul the two of you brought into this world.

He gains confidence with time, and when the baby arrives he's always carrying them securely on one thick arm, belly down as they sleep soundly against him.

    His baby is so small when they hand her to him in the hospital. She's tiny. Smaller than the width of his arm. He looks like a giant as he holds her, sat next to your bedside as you recover from her delivery. He's in awe as he looks at her, a tiny little life, the greatest gift you've ever given him besides your hand in marriage. 

    You and others had always joked that his baby would be huge, big-headed, 99th percentile, and he never minded it. It was no secret that he was a big man, and he didn't mind what size the baby was as long as it was healthy, and looking at the little bundle of joy in his arms, he decides he wouldn't have it any other way.

    It's almost comical, how small she is. Hell, even you might have doubted the paternity of the baby girl if it hadn't been for her head of pitch-black hair, and pretty blue eyes. Almost a carbon copy of himself.

    “She has your eyes.” You say once her cries quiet down, and she begins to fall asleep in her father's arms.

    “No.” Piotr hums, gingerly touching his daughter's face. “They look much more like Illyana's.” You hadn't thought about that before, but now that he mentions it, the resemblance is undeniable. You giggle at that, Scooting closer so that you can lean on his shoulder.

    “The nurse said that she's waiting outside, when you're ready. I'm sure she's beyond excited to meet her niece.” You mumble. Piotr has placed a finger in the palm of your baby's hand, both of you smiling when the little fingers do their best to try and close around his fingertip. Piotr cannot wait to see the face of his sister when she sees your baby, but he'll be the first to admit, he'd like it if this moment could just last a little while longer.

Kurt wagner

Kurt is such a good dad oh my god.

He's always talking about you and the kids, bragging about literally everything you do ever. He's the kind of dad that has endless photos of his kiddos in his wallet, car, locker, everywhere.

And he's so devoted, too. He'll do anything you ask him to do during the newborn stage (and after) and is beyond supportive. His goals are happy Spouse, Happy kids, Happy life.

He's also very sentimental :) he thanks god every day for you and the blessing that is your baby.

    Kurt’s side of the bed was empty when you woke up this morning, and despite the normal amount of anxiety you normally feel when that happens, you feel peaceful. You’re smiling at the empty mattress, rolling over to his side to push your face into his pillow, taking a deep breath. Used to, you would be worried. You would wonder where he was, or if he was safe. If he had gone off on some x-men mission without telling you (which he never did). But today, you know exactly where he is. You’re smiling now as you think about it, pressing a kiss to his pillow before standing up.

    There’s a soft humming in the house, quiet and soothing. It’s not hard to figure out where it’s coming from, the path to the spare room having become second nature to you- although, it really wasn’t much of a spare room anymore. You try not to be too loud when you enter the room through the cracked door.

   Kurt is humming sweetly, your son laid out on the changing table as Kurt finishes worming his pudgy little legs through a new onesie. The baby whines a little, squirming around as Kurt attempts to change his clothes. 

    “Patience, Mein kleiner Schatz. This won’t take long.” Kurt says sweetly. Your son isn’t really having this whole changing business, and it makes Kurt chuckle. His tail is wrapped around a bottle of milk, and he sets it to the side right before he snakes his tail over the crib. He brushes the spaded end lovingly over your baby’s cheek as a distraction, and the infant coos as he finishes getting his arms through the sleeves. His tail takes over from there, buttoning the onesie's clasps as he turns to grab the bottle of milk instead- stopping for a split second when he sees you in the doorway. Kurt smiles.

    “How are my boys?” You ask, voice a little rough from sleep.

    “Gut! And lively, it seems.” He tells you. He passes the bottle off to his tail again when you walk over, taking you into his arms as he shakes the formula up a little more. Kurt kisses you sweetly on the lips, pressing his forehead against your own when you separate. 

    “Guten Morgen, Schatz. How are you feeling?” You swear you fall in love with him all over again each day when he greets you like that. You shrug your shoulders in response, smile dropping just a little bit.

    “I’m okay. Still tired, and definitely still bloated, but I’m okay.” You admit. Kurt frowns a little, brushing some hair from your face.

    “Did you see the medicine I left for you on the nightstand?” Kurt asks, and you immediately make a bit of a silly face, remembering that you didn’t exactly get up on your own side of the bed today. Kurt knows what that looks means and begins to laugh, just as your son begins to whimper and whine to be held and fed. You try to go pick him up, but Kurt stops you as he picks your baby up instead, bottle at the ready.

   “Go take your meds, I’ve got him, Liebchen.”

Remy LeBeau

Remy is a little nervous to be a dad.

Not in a flight way!! He's just a little worried that he'll be a bad influence on the kiddo. and well, I mean sure. If you're worried about the kiddo being a little rager and being into a few to many wild hobbies I guess (usually comes with the cajun territory)- but overall, Gambit is such a sweetheart, and if anything his kiddos would be so respectful and loving towards their parents.

Remy's very protective over your baby. The protectiveness is at it's height around 0-3yrs of age, but it never, ever goes away completely.

He might talk some smack about how a little bit of dirt/germs never hurt anyone, but He's actually the kind of dad that makes everyone put germex on before even thinking about holding the baby.

He's on top of feedings, and never fears a blowout when it comes to changing diapers (no matter how much he might gag). He might not have the diaper back stocked and loaded 24/7, but he's doing the best he can.

    When you wake up, It’s about 3am. Your eyes blink oper wearily, and the light from the alarm clock is practically burning into your eyes. You want nothing more to curl up and go back to sleep, and you almost do, until the time actually registers.

    3am. Its 3am, and you went to bed at 10pm. This is the first time you’ve woken up since then. Your veins feel like ice when you realize that you haven't heard the baby cry once. You rip the cover off of you, breaking out in a panicked run across the hall to check on your newborn. You don’t even realize that Remy isn’t even in bed until you slam the door open and see him standing there, your daughter in his arms as he rocks her to sleep in the rocking chair You breathe a sigh of relief as he looks at you with a tired smile, but your anxiety still remains.

    “Remy? Is she okay?” You whisper, practically leaping over to his side to take the little one out of his arms.

    “She’s Okay, Cher.” Remy replies softly. He stands from the chair, wrapping his hands around your back, the infant snug in between your bodies. You sigh again, taking a moment to look at your daughter carefully, eyeing her chest as it rises and falls, and straining your ears to hear her breathing. Remy gives you a second to get situated, yawning just a bit as he sways the three of you as you stand there. You relax as he holds you both, resting your head against his shoulder.

    “Why don’ you go back to bed.” Remy says after a long minute. “That was the longest I’ve seen you sleep in a while.” You frown. He’s not wrong. Your newborn has been a bit colicky lately, crying for nights on end since you brought her home with very few things to keep her comfortable. She has started to grow out of it, but the effects still remained. She cries a lot at nighttime, and it makes you wonder if that’s why you had slept so long, because of Remy staying up to keep her quiet.

    “And leave you here? Remy, how long have you been awake?” You ask, looking up at his face. He shrugs, smiling still as the three of you sway.

    “I’m fine. I can stay up all night if I need to, as long as you get to catch up on some sleep.” If it were any other circumstance, you might have swooned at the words. As sweet is he is, you can’t let him do that! He begins to step away to place your daughter in her crib, and you hold yourself back from trying to take her from him and commanding him to just go to bed.

    “Remy-”

    “Ah ah ah, Cher, don’t wake ma petit, now.” Remy cuts you off with a whisper, turning around to place a finger against his lips in a shushing motion. He almost makes you giggle, but instead, you simply shake your head at him. He pulls you into a loving kiss when he’s close enough, running his hand through your hair. You know he’s waiting for you to pull back, to retreat into the bedroom to sleep like he asked you to, but you’re still hesitant. He knows your stubbornness firsthand and chuckles when he pulls back a little.

    “Do I need to tuck you in, too?”

[n0thingbutlov3]

need you now

in which an impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)

“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”

His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.

You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.

You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.

“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.

“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.

You swallowed it down.

“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.

You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.

“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.

You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.

It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.

When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.

It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.

You think this qualified.

You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.

You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.

You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.

You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.

“Spencer?” You slurred.

He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.

You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.

You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.

“I’m fine.”

Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.

“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.

You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.

“How did you get in?”

“My key.”

“Oh.”

Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.

“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.

“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.

You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.

You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.

“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.

Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.

His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.

“Do you want to talk?”

Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?

“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.

“Okay.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.

“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.

You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.

He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.

“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—

“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.

and—actually, you were fine now.

He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.

He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.

“Whole thing, please.”

You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.

The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.

You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.

“Why did we break up?”

He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.

“I—you know why—“

“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.

Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.

“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?

“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”

Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.

“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“

“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.

“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.

“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”

Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.

“Of course I want to.”

“Okay,”

“Okay.”

He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.

Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.

As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.

You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.

“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”

He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.

“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.

“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”

You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.

“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.

Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.

“Unless you want to, I mean—“

“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.

He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.

You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.

You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

“Nothing. You’re pretty.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”

Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”

You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.

“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”

You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.

part two!

[reidswhre]

on your shoulder; spencer reid x fem!reader

sumamary: based on the episode of "the office" where pam falls asleep on jim's shoulder!

warnings: pure fluff!! early seasons spencer!

a/n: just a lil reminder that my request are open! you can go and send me some 🫶🏼 also english isn’t my first language, let me know any mistakes.

You loved Aaron Hotchner, no doubt he was an amazing boss, and you had no complaints about him. The problem started when he organized those... little meetings, which, well, could be kind of boring.

And honestly, you hadn’t been sleeping well these last few days either. There was a lot of paperwork left from the cases that had to be dealt with immediately, which didn’t really help your sleep schedule.

Right now, Hotch was giving a talk about... hmm, you weren’t sure. Maybe about victimology or something like that, but you were way too tired to pay attention.

“Hey, you okay?” A voice came from your left, it was Spencer sitting beside you.

“What? Yeah, yeah, of course,” you yawned. “I just haven’t slept well.”

“I figured. You should try to get some rest, not sleeping decreases your attention, concentration, and memory. Plus, it lowers your work performance. It can even cause anxiety or depression,” Reid explained.

Your eyes opened wide. “What?! Depression?! Spencer, no way. I’ve just stayed up late a few nights, I’m fine.” You chuckled and leaned back in your chair, almost looking like you were going to fall out of it.

“It’s okay,” he said, watching you.

He used to take his time watching you, not in a creepy way, at least he hoped not. It was more like you sparked his curiosity, he thought you were really pretty.

He saw you fighting to keep your eyes open, which you were definitely losing. Your eyes were closing, your lashes falling down, and your cheeks had a lovely blush to them that you probably added this morning. You looked beautiful.

Spencer felt your head drop onto his shoulder, and he immediately tensed up. The scent of your shampoo hit his nose, it smelled fresh and sweet, just like you.

He relaxed a little, letting you rest for the remaining part of Hotch’s magnificent meeting.

You opened your eyes after a while, feeling a bit lost. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.” You lifted your head when you realized it had been resting on Spencer.

“Don’t worry about it, it didn’t bother me.” He gave you a small smile, the kind where he kept his lips closed.

You looked around and realized no one else was in the room except for the two of you. “Where is everyone?” you asked Spencer, confused.

“They, uh... well, they left,” he said, looking away. “The meeting ended.”

You gasped in surprise. “What? How long ago?”

“Not long... maybe half an hour,” he said, finally looking at you.

“Half an hour?! Spencer, why didn’t you wake me up?” You could feel the embarrassment filling every inch of your body. You had been asleep on him for more than half an hour?!

“I... well, you—” He stumbled over his words. “You looked comfortable and... you needed the rest, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me? I was bothering you! I’m so sorry, seriously.” You were too embarrassed to think straight.

“What? No, no, really, it wasn’t a bother at all, never would be.” He gave you a sincere look.

You smiled at this; he was always pretty sweet with you. “Thanks, really.”

He gave you a small smile in response.

“So...” You glanced around the empty room. “What did I miss?”

“You should’ve paid attention,” Spencer teased.

“Very funny, huh?” You rolled your eyes.

Spencer looked at you, and honestly, he loved the idea of having you this close all the time.

[babyleostuff]

svt without their goodnight kiss | ot13

𐙚🧸ྀི choi seungcheol

this baby (29 year old man) would not be having it. he swears he needs his goodnight kiss to fall asleep, so not getting one is a big no no. at first he’d try to be all „okay, whatever, if they don’t want to give me my goodnight kiss then so be it” (stumps his feet). yeah, gives up on that after ten seconds. cheol would then try to pull you even closer to his body (as if that was possible), to gently remind you that „baby, what about my kiss?”

𐙚🧸ྀི yoon jeonghan

i think it depends on the day for hannie. if he’s having more of a „yoon menace jeonghan” day, he’s going to wake you up, and stare at you with a blank expression and pursed lips, waiting for his kiss. if he’s having more of a „hannie” day, there’s NO way he’s waking you up. the only think he does is tucks you in even better, wrapping you up in the blankets, thus making you look like a lil burrito.

𐙚🧸ྀི joshua hong

not going to lie - he’d be a bit upset about not getting his goodnight kiss. he may not be the most outwardly affectionate person out there, but he still loves getting his kisses, especially before bed. if he saw you already asleep there’s no way he’d wake you up, but if you were still kind of awake, shua would try to find a way to get his kiss after all (would probably take way to long to come up with a plan, and you’d end up falling asleep).

𐙚🧸ྀི wen junhui

please don’t forget about jun’s goodnight kiss, he turns into a sad pookie without one :(((( he cherishes your affection SO much (even though he’s not the one to actually initiate it, trust me: he loves it). and so not getting his lil kisses before sleep is a big deal for jun, because how is he supposed to fall asleep without them? in conclusion - you forgetting goodnight kisses = sad jun (and that would be a sad jun for the whole night because there is no way he’d remind you about the kisses).

𐙚🧸ྀི kwon soonyoung

worry not - soonyoung is going to smother you in kisses if you forget. sleeping or not, he will give you a kiss (ten of them) (though if you’re actually asleep, he’s much more gentle). whether he’s the one to get kissed or if he’s the one to give the kiss, hoshi has to share some of his affection before bed. he just wants you to know that he loves you (there’s a small chance he’d be a bit sulky in the morning because of the lack of his goodnight kiss)

𐙚🧸ྀི jeon wonwoo

it’s funny because whenever he forgets about giving you your goodnight kiss, and you complain about it in the morning he’s all like 🙄 BUT when it’s you not giving him his kiss he turns into a pouty babie (in sad font). wonwoo is too shy to ask you for the kiss, so if you forget he’s doomed to a sleepless night (not actually, but he likes being dramatic like that) (his goodnight kiss is really important for him).

𐙚🧸ྀི lee jihoon

our jihoon, leader of the „i hate love affection” squad. whenever people asks him how he feels about stereotypical relationship stuff, he’s kind of like :/// okay, sure - then why are you all pouty if you don’t get your goodnight kiss, woozi? thank god you’re already sleep so you can’t see his adorable pout (he wouldn’t be able to bare your teasing), but really? you forgot about the kiss? (👉🏼👈🏼). to make himself even more miserable he doesn’t wake you up (that comes more from the fact that he wants you to actually sleep, he knows that there’s no point in waking you up).

𐙚🧸ྀི lee seokmin

what do you mean no kiss??? but how is he supposed to fall asleep now??? hello??? why do you want him to suffer??? he clings to you extra tightly, so even if you are already sleep, his extra tight hug wakes you up (after that it’s not hard to figure out the reason for his extra clinginess) (as if the pout didn’t tell you everything you needed to know). seokmin feels kind of bad for waking you up, but after you kiss him (and he kisses you back), you’re able to quickly fall asleep together this time.

𐙚🧸ྀི kim mingyu

has no shame (and he really needs his goodnight kiss), so he just manhandles you so he can properly see your face, and stares at you (gyu makes those comically big eyes since it’s dark, and there is a 99% chance you can’t see them anyway), and waits till you get what he wants. if you don’t (because you’re probably too tired to understand his antics), he just plainly says „goodnight kiss”, and taps his lips.

𐙚🧸ྀི xu minghao

wouldn’t be overly dramatic about not getting the kiss, because that would just mean he’d be the one to give you one :))) (or two) (or many more). of course he adores getting his goodnight kisses from you, but i honestly think he loves it even more when he’s the one to shower you in affection. hao is not the biggest on physical touch, but something about the nighttime, and you both being in bed that makes him more expressive with his affection.

𐙚🧸ྀི boo seungkwan

huh, the audacity you have to forget about his goodnight kiss. for the first five minutes boo just lays in bed slightly angry at you that you dared to forget about it (because come on - he has to have his kiss kiss), but then a bigger problem arises. how the hell is he supposed to fall asleep without it? and so he spends the next few minutes looking up at the ceiling, and wondering how he was able to fall asleep before he met you (he came to the conclusion that it was impossible, sleep didn’t exist before you) (he managed to fall asleep anyway) (and obviously he asked you the next morning why you didn’t kiss him) (turns out you were so tired you simply forgot)

𐙚🧸ྀི vernon chwe

actually quite happy about it because it means he can give you a goodnight kiss. maybe you were too tired, maybe you just didn’t feel like kissing him that night - it didn’t matter, it was the perfect moment for vernon to be a bit clingier for once. yes, he loves your pre bedtime kisses, but being the one giving you those feels so good as well (and usually he’s just too shy to be the one to give the goodnight kiss) (he also knows how happy it makes you to kiss him goodnight so he usually doesn’t have the heart to be the one to initiate them).

𐙚🧸ྀི lee chan

very sad, very heartbroken, very much unable to sleep. chan is a lil romantic, and he loves your little routine of giving and receiving goodnight kisses, so he’s not really surprised about feeling so upset. yes, he understands that you’re tired, and probably just fell asleep before you were able to give him one, but… at least one kiss, please? but chan wouldn’t do anything about it. as much as he’s heartbroken about a kiss-less night, he would never wake you up or disturb your sleep just for a kiss (would make sure to ask for extra good morning kisses) (and would hold you extra tight that night to make up for the lack of kisses)

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[p3achfilm]

₊ ⊹ 𝓬𝔀: nsfw. cowboy!eren, smut with a plot, lil fluff, explicit language, creaming, overstimulation, multiple creampies, kissing, lil bit of angst, oral [f], pet names, barn sex, fingering, cum-eating, teasing, edging, marking ₊ ⊹ slightly edited, needed this out of my drafts so enjoy :,)

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 9k

₊ ⊹𝓡𝓘𝓓𝓘𝓝₊ ⊹

"so, you’re going to butt-fuck nowhere? have you not seen get out?”

the girl with brown skin sat opposite you on a cream- colored bean bag , her disbelief evident. with her arms crossed and wide eyes glued to you, she observed as you crammed another shirt into the pink duffel bag. you had just dropped the bomb that you were heading out of town for a month to cover a story on sustainable farming in the midwest. when ronnie, your supervisor, first tasked you with this assignment, you felt uncertain about embarking on the journey alone, particularly in rural areas.but there was something about it that sparked your interest, the thrill of new adventures and the unknown calling to your inner explorer.

your best friend, kiara, seemed to have different feelings, however.

“you’re actually hella dramatic, kiki.” you playfully roll your eyes.

"or i’m realistic?”

“i think you meant delusional.”

“so, let me get this straight," she starts up. ronnie said he wanted someone to write a story about farming, and you're the only one that volunteered?" she folds her arms across her chest. "not really. a few people from the tech and food sections are going. i think they were hoping for a bigger piece, i’ll be doing my own thing though." you explain, grabbing your macbook and stuffing it into the already overfilled bag. "this is my chance to finally do something that's not writing about the latest iphone, or who the top chef is this season."

"what about the wedding?" kiara asks, her eyebrows furrowed. "i told you that i'd be back by then." you look at her apologetically. "i know you're upset. i'm sorry” she cuts you off, "i'm not upset." she dismisses, shaking her head. "i get it. this is your career, and i'm not going to stand in the way of that."

"thanks ki." you plop down on the bean bag beside her, resting your head on her shoulder. "just don't fall in love with some farmer, okay?" she warns, and you chuckle at her suggestion.

"you know i'm too career-driven for that."

kiara gives a small laugh, resting her cheek against your hair. “well, at least call me and let me know when you get there. you know i worry about you," she says.

"i will, go spend time with hubby! i know he’ll be thrilled when he finds out i won’t be here for the next couple of weeks. you two can have all the loud sex you want—" you're cut off as a pillow slices through the air and smacks you, kiara giggling. "enough, you! " she says, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"hurry up before you’re late."

“fine, fine!” you puff dramatically standing to your feet.

the drive to the small town where you'll be staying is serene, fields of green stretching out on either side of the road. when you finally arrive, the town looks quaint and welcoming, a stark contrast to the bustling city you left behind. you check into a charming bed-and-breakfast, the kind owner showing you to your cozy room. the bed looks inviting, but you’re too wired to sleep just yet. deciding to explore a bit, you wander the quiet streets until you find a small bar. “the drunken duck.” the neon sign flickers, casting a warm glow.

eren yeager had always considered himself a gentleman. no doubt he was the town’s sweetheart, known for always lending a hand whether it be fetching a kitten out of a tree, or helping an old lady across the road, eren was always there. his reputation for kindness and chivalry preceded him, making him a beloved figure in the small community.

every morning, he would stop by the local bakery to pick up fresh bread for the elderly couple next door. the baker, an older woman with a warm smile, always had his order ready, knowing he would be there without fail. “thank you, eren,” she would say, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “you’re a blessing to this town.” he would simply nod, his own smile modest, and continue on his way, the bread tucked under his arm.

eren’s charm extended beyond his actions. his appearance was nothing short of striking. standing at an impressive six foot four, skin littered in tattoos, he towered over most, yet his presence was never intimidating. instead, it was comforting, like a gentle giant. his hair, dark and silky, cut into a wavy mullet often pulled back,giving him a slightly tousled, boyish look that only added to his appeal. his eyes, deep and expressive, held a kindness that drew people in. and then there was his smile – that lopsided grin that seemed to light up his entire face. it was a smile that could disarm even the most hardened of hearts.

his voice, too, was something to be admired. he spoke with a charming accent, a soft lilt that made every word sound like a melody. when he spoke, people listened, not just because of what he said, but because of how he said it. his words were always thoughtful, always considerate, and always delivered with that signature smile.

eren typically wrapped up a long day at the farm around this time, but since it was saturday, he decided to shake things up a bit and hit the town for a drink or two. he hardly ever treated himself like this, always busy lending a hand in town or tackling farm chores. so there he was, rocking his favorite checkered flannel, some denim jeans, and his trusty boots. “want another shot, boss?” the bartender asks. he knows he probably shouldn’t, especially with a hangover looming for tomorrow, but he just shrugs it off. “sure, why not? i’ll do whiskey neat this time.”

the wooden door swings open making him glance back. as you step in it's tough not to let his gaze wander over your shapely figure—those denim shorts held up by a leather belt fit you perfectly. they hug your curves, showcasing your brown legs and leaving just enough to the imagination. the white tank top clings to you, and the shift from the cool air makes your nipples press against the delicate material. there’s a leather bag hanging off your shoulder and he wonders what’s inside.

you slide into the seat next to him, and he can't help but notice how much prettier you are up close. your dark wavy hair dances just above your backside, framing your face with a natural grace. a touch of dewy makeup brings out your features. your full cupid's bow lips are set in a natural frown, and he finds himself mesmerized by the way your long, delicate lashes flutter over your lovely brown eyes. you remind him of one of those perfect dolls his ma used to collect—just stunning. even though the atmosphere is heavy with despair, he still catches a hint of your sweet scent. mango.

he quickly glances away when he realizes he’s been staring for too long, not wanting to come off as creepy. he takes a sip of his whiskey, feeling that pleasant burn as it goes down. then, he turns back to you. you look so different from everyone else around.

“city girl huh?”

you pause for a second, finally understanding that he’s addressing you. you let out a playful scoff. “damn really? i didn’t think it was that obvious,” you say, turning to look at him. the guy in front of you is a tough-looking man, his muscles slightly tensing beneath his faded flannel shirt. his hands are rough, clearly shaped by a life of hard labor on the farm. you can’t help but appreciate his rugged appearance and the warmth in his gaze. even though you feel a pull towards him, you keep your cool, trying to mirror his laid-back demeanor.

"how'd you know?"

"well, for starters, you’re pretty. secondly, you’re too damn pretty.”

“thanks. . . i guess.” you laugh, a sweet little giggle that makes his heart do a flip. you were definitely not supposed to be here, but something drew him to you. and maybe he was feeling a little lonely and desperate. but there was something about the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at him. you were a breath of fresh air in this quiet little place.

“what brings someone like you to a spot like this? i mean, i bet a city girl like you has way cooler stuff on her agenda.

you let out a tiny sigh.

"i'm a journalist. i'm here to write about sustainable farming in the midwest."

eren clicks his tongue, "alright then. you've found your guy." you check him out from head to toe, and he struggles to stifle a grin.

“really? why’s that?”

"my family has been cultivating this land for many generations. we're one of the few farms in the area that avoids pesticides and fertilizers, which is why our crops are better than just about any other farmers is this town.”

you lean back, crossing your arms, a skeptical expression on your face.

"is that right?"

he nods, "i’m actually attending the farmers market tomorrow. you can check out my crops, get whatever behind the scenes stuff ya need."

looks like you’d have your story started sooner than expected.

“that would be amazing!” he finds it cute how your eyes sparkle. you’re instantly digging into the bag you’d brought, pulling out a clearly used notepad and jotting down notes. “i’ll let you do your story on my family’s farm under one condition,” he says. you raise your eyebrow at the man, whose name you don’t even know. “and what’s this…condition…” you trail off.

he immediately picks up, “eren yeager.” he sticks his hand out and you reluctantly take it. “₊˚⊹♡…” you introduce yourself. god, even your name is pretty, he thinks. "well, ₊˚⊹♡, you gotta dance with me." he smiles cheekily, a charming dimple appearing. you shake your head, laughing at how bold he was. his tanned skin glows under the dim lights, and the tattoos peeking from under his sleeves hint at stories untold. he didn’t know if it was the alcohol, or the fact that he hadn’t seen a pretty face like yours in a while, but he was itching to get closer to you. he wanted to know more about you, see how that pretty little journalist brain worked.

“buy a girl a drink first, jeez.” you tease. eren laughs, a sound you could get used to. “gotcha, darlin’. what ya feeling?” his green eyes lock onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. god, this man is so handsome.

you glance at the bar, considering your options. “how about a whiskey sour?” you suggest, a mischievous glint in your eyes. eren nods, clearly impressed by your choice. “coming right up,” he says, making his way to hunt down the absent bartender. as you wait, you take in the surroundings. the bar is rustic, with wooden beams and vintage decor that give it a cozy, welcoming feel. the jukebox in the corner is playing an old country tune, and the soft hum of conversation fills the air.

eren returns with two whiskey sours, handing one to you. “to new beginnings,” he toasts, raising his glass. you clink your glass against his, the sound ringing out like a promise. the whiskey is smooth, with just the right amount of tartness from the lemon. “so, tell me more about this farm,” you say, leaning in closer. eren’s eyes light up as he begins to talk, his passion for his family’s land evident in every word. you listen intently, already imagining how you’ll weave his story into your article.

he takes a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. "—been in my family for generations. my grandparents started it, been passed down ever since. we grow all sorts of crops—corn, soybeans, you name it. and we’ve got a bunch of animals too. cows, chickens, horses. it’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it."

you nod, taking notes as he speaks. the passion in his voice is contagious, and you can see why he’s so proud of his heritage. “it sounds like a dream,” you say, genuinely intrigued. “what’s your favorite part about it?” eren thinks for a moment, a soft smile playing on his lips. “honestly? the sunsets. there’s nothing like watching the sun go down over the fields. it’s peaceful, you know? makes all the hard work worth it.” his eyes soften as he talks about the sunsets, and you can see a different side of him—a softer, more reflective side.

you jot down his words, already picturing the vivid descriptions you’ll include in your article. “i’d love to see it sometime,” you say, almost without thinking. eren’s smile widens, a hint of excitement in his eyes. “i’d love to show you. how about tomorrow evening? you can see the farm catch one of those sunsets.”

“uh, i’ll have to check my schedule.” you say absentmindedly, not noticing the way eren’s shoulders fall. “so that dance?” he reminds, a unfamiliar glint in his eyes. you laugh, tucking away your notepad. “don’t go complainin’ when i step on your toes.” he ignores your statement and takes your hand in his, you instantly notice how his grip is firm yet tender. leading you to the dance floor, he places one hand on your waist, the other still holding your hand. the music wraps around you both, a slow and steady rhythm that guides your movements.

eren gently directs you with the music, his steps smooth and assured. despite his size, he moves with a surprising grace, making it easy for you to follow his lead. you can feel the warmth of his touch through your clothes, a comforting presence that makes you feel safe.

as you move, you catch the scent of his cologne—an intoxicating blend of cedarwood and fresh pine. it’s a scent that makes your heart flutter and your knees feel weak. he looks down at you, his eyes filled with a gentle curiosity. "you’re a natural. " he says softly, his breath warm against your ear. you smile up at him, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "i have a good partner," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. he chuckles, the sound rich and comforting.

"i’m glad you think so . . . so why here? this town i mean. why pick your story here?" he suddenly asks. it was true there were plenty of other small towns you could've picked but this one was almost nonexistent on a map. this was the perfect place to cover a story. "well for one i heard the soil is pretty damn good here, and of course the farmers market. i hear it blossoms around this time of year." you hum, eren nods. he could dance and listen to you talk all night, he wishes he could. "so you say you're from the city? how was that growing up?" he asks, you try to ignore the flutter in your stomach as he traces various shapes onto your back with his thumbs.

you take a moment to answer the question, unsure of what to say.

you didn't have a bad life per say, you had loving parents and a roof over your head. you didn't grow up with much money, or nice things, but you didn't grow up in poverty either. well that was before your parents split up and your father left. your mom did her best, and you knew that. but it was hard being the daughter of a single parent. and when you were only fourteen years old, your mom decided to go off to find herself and left you in the care of your father.

he in turn dumped you off at a group home and didn't even look back. you haven't seen him since. so you stayed there, in that house full of strangers, until you turned eighteen and was able to live on your own. you never saw your mother again either, part of you was glad. you found comfort in writing, comfort in writing about other people’s lives that wasn’t your own sad one. that's when you decided to become a journalist.

you turn and meet his eyes. you could see the curiosity in them. "it wasn't bad. i was an only child so my mom always had me on her hip. she taught me everything i know about being a woman, and then she left me." you state, eren's eyes widened at the last part.

"oh i'm sorry, i didn't mean to-"

"it's fine" you cut him off, "she went out and did what she had to do, and when i was old enough i did the same thing. it's fine" you repeat. you didn't have time to dwell on the past. you couldn't, it was too painful. you were okay now, and that's all that matters.

"but it wasn't all bad" you quickly add, not wanting him to feel bad. you could tell eren felt sympathy for you, and you didn't need that. "i made friends, i went to school and i graduated with honors. i got into college and i was happy."

"what about your dad?" he asks, and you shrug, arms still draped around his shoulders. "i haven't seen him in years. he left when i was a kid and i haven't spoken to him since. i'm not angry or anything, i don't need him"

eren frowns.

"i'm sorry that happened to you" he says, and you nod. "don't be. it's all in the past"

eren nods, and silence falls between the two of you. he wants to say something, but he's not sure what. he's still curious, and wants to know more about you. he wants to ask you more questions, but he doesn't want to push. he's never met anyone like you before. "what about you country boy, you lived here all your life?" he smiles at country boy, the way you mock his accent is cute.

"born and raised," he states proudly and you raise an eyebrow.

"really? never wanted to leave, go and explore?"

“when i was younger.”

"well, what happened?" you pry.

"it's not that interesting, really."

you frown, "i want to know. please?" he can’t resist that pout.

"okay, okay," he says, and you smile.

eren clears his throat, and his cheeks flush slightly. "i've always been a dreamer, i've always wanted to do something different, be someone different. when i was a kid, i used to run away from home a lot, and i would just roam the town for hours. it was kind of embarrassing, but i was a weird kid. but anyways, my parents kinda always nailed it into my head that i had to stay here, keep the family business going. so i just kinda pushed what i wanted to the side. don’t get me wrong, i love what i do. . . it’s just sometimes i wish i followed my heart.”

"well," you start, "this is your life. not theirs. if you want to leave, you should. you shouldn’t spend your whole life living in your parents' shadow."

eren smiles slightly, "you make everything sound easy. city girl."

"i have a name, ya know."

"i know, but i like city girl better."

"shut up," you say, playfully rolling your eyes.

"yes ma’am."

as the evening unfolded, you and eren settled into a snug spot at the bar, sipping on your drinks while the music played softly in the background. the dim lighting cast a warm glow over the room, making it feel cozy and intimate. your conversation flowed effortlessly, covering a range of topics and filled with laughter as you both shared stories. you talked about your childhood dreams, favorite books, and the places you wanted to visit. time seemed to fly by, and soon enough, the bar announced its closing.

eren insisted on accompanying you back to your hotel, even though it was just a short ten-minute stroll. the night air was cool and refreshing, and you walked side by side, occasionally brushing against each other. you exchanged numbers, promising to meet again the next day. as you entered your hotel, you turned back to see eren giving you a warm smile and a gentle wave before turning to leave. you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement for tomorrow.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

it was just your luck you’d be running late. eren had told you eleven am, yet that was the time you peeled your tired eyes open. fuck, you should've laid off the drinks last night. blindly, you search the crumbled sheets for your phone. two missed calls, one from kiara and one from him. immediately you're redialing eren, sitting up you run a hand down your face. "hey-yeah, i know, sorry i'm late. i'm on the way!" you rush out, throwing your bare legs off the bed. eren doesn't seem mad, he actually seems to be in a good mood, his tone chipper as he says "see you soon"

you shower in a hurry, shaving your legs, soaping your body, and running your fingers through your hair. in the mirror, you look like you could use a few more hours of sleep. your hair is a wild mess and you don't look as awake as you would like. there is no time to put makeup on, so you skip it, opting to brush your teeth before throwing a dress on. you have a quick bite of fruit and a cup of coffee, then you’re rushing around, gathering all of the things you need. as you scramble to find your sandals, you remember the conversation from last night and smile. despite the rush, there's a flutter of excitement in your chest. you grab your bag, double-checking for your phone and keys, and dash out the door.

eren is perched near the farmers market sign when you pull into the bustling field. he’s leaning back, one leg propped up on his truck bumper, arms crossed over his broad chest. on top of his head sits a cowboy hat, his hair is loose today, the dark brown waves blowing in the warm wind. you can't help but appreciate the way his blue jeans hug his muscled thighs. it's casual, but somehow still makes him look so damn good. he has on a black tee, the material tight across his torso, hugging his inked biceps.

"hey sleeping beauty." he says, a smirk tugging at his full lips.

"hey, sorry again, my alarm never went off." you say, looking at him apologetically. he shrugs. "it's fine,i'm just glad you're here. i was starting to think you were standing me up."

your brows shoot up at the words. "you get stood up?”

“happens to the best of us.” he hums, pulling out a toothpick and sticking it into his mouth. you eye him, not saying anything. just thinking about how this fine ass man gets stood up.

“let’s go. we open in fifteen minutes.”

you look so pretty to him, today you’re not wearing any makeup. and somehow you look even better without it, your hair swishes through the wind, framing your soft face as you walk. you’re wearing a sundress that clings to your body like a second skin, he can’t let his mind wander to hiking your dress up and fucking you on his truck. he shakes his head, trying to dismiss the thoughts but fails miserably, his cock hardening uncomfortably against his denim jeans.

the market is set up in a large, green field. there are rows and rows of different vendors. fresh fruits and vegetables, homemade breads, flowers, jams, candles, even fresh meat. you love the energy here, and it's not hard to spot the people who come every week. they greet the vendors, asking about their families.

eren seems to have a lot of customers. you watch him as he bags multiple sweet-smelling fruits and jars of homemade jam. he seems to connect with everyone; he’s definitely a crush around his town. women so blatantly flirting with him, high schoolers blushing. you couldn’t blame them. quietly, you snapped photos as you stood off to the side of his stand. he even lets you taste a few things.

you savor the sweetness of a ripe strawberry, the tang of homemade jam lingering on your tongue. "this is amazing," you say, smiling up at him. he grins, a twinkle in his eye. “glad you like it," he replies, handing you another sample.

as the morning sun rises higher, casting a warm glow over the market, you feel a sense of contentment. this town, with its hidden charm and welcoming people, feels like the perfect backdrop for your story.eren's interactions with the townspeople are heartwarming. he knows everyone's name and asks about their lives with genuine interest. "how's your mother doing, mrs. thompson?" he asks a regular customer, handing her a bag of apples. she smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"she's doing much better, thanks to you and your delicious fruit, eren," she replies, patting his arm affectionately. a group of children run up to his stand, their faces lighting up when they see him. "eren! do you have any more of those sweet peaches?" one of the kids asks eagerly. “of course, just for you guys," eren says, ruffling the boy's sandy red hair before handing him a peach. the children giggle and thank him, running off to enjoy their treat.

you watch as he continues to engage with everyone, his laughter and easygoing nature drawing people in. it's clear that eren is not just a vendor; he's a beloved part of this community. and as you capture these moments through your camera lens, you can't help but feel a growing admiration for him.

as the sun starts to set, the crowd dwindles, and the market comes to a close. eren is packing up his stand, putting away the last of the fruits and vegetables. he catches your eye, flashing you a smile. "you hungry city girl? we could grab a bite to eat. i know a place not too far from here.” he suggests.you hesitate, looking down at your camera, work could wait.

"sure," you say. "i could eat."

you walk to the center of the market where the food stands are. you smell the fried food before you see it, your stomach growling. you haven't had anything but fruit all day. eren smiles and places a hand on the small of your back. "hope you ain’t vegetarian pretty." he says. you both order burgers and fries at this cute little burger stand. you sit on a bench and dig in, your stomach happy. the food is simple but delicious, and you find yourself enjoying the company of eren more than you expected. he's funny and charming, and as the sky darkens and the market clears out, he stays by your side.

the stars begin to twinkle in the night sky, and eren takes your hand. "walk with me, wanna showing you somethin" he says. his hands are warm and calloused. you nod, letting him lead you away and into the quiet darkness of the night. you walk together through the streets, the only sound the distant chirping of crickets. as you pass by an old farmhouse, you see a horse grazing peacefully in the moonlight. the sight is enchanting, and you stop to take a picture. eren leans in close, his breath tickling your ear. "beautiful," he murmurs.

you turn to face him, the moon casting a soft glow over his features. his green eyes sparkle with something you can't quite place. he reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. your breath hitches, and you find yourself leaning in, drawn to him. his lips meet yours in a gentle kiss, his arms wrapping around you. the kiss is sweet and tender, and you feel a flutter in your chest.

you spend the next few weeks getting to know eren and his charming small town. you go on long walks and late-night drives, sharing stories and secrets. he teaches you about the plants and animals native to the area, and you teach him about photography and writing. he takes you on picnics in the woods, stargazing on the rooftop of his barn, and late-night swims in the lake. each time is more magical than the last, and you can't help but fall harder for him.

his love for his hometown is evident in everything he does. from helping out the elderly to teaching local children how to garden, he is a beacon of hope and inspiration for the people around him. you capture it all on camera, the beauty of his home and the beauty of him.

✮⋆˙

the crunch of gravel under your boots echoes through the warm summer air as you make your way up the driveway. the first time you’d seen eren’s home, all you could do was gasp. it was like something from a movie, something you’d never see in the bustling city. the house had a classic wrap-around porch, inviting you to explore every angle of its beauty. a charming swing hung from the porch, gently swaying in the breeze, beckoning you to sit and take in the serene surroundings.

the farmhouse itself was a picturesque sight, with whitewashed walls and dark wooden shutters that added a touch of rustic elegance. large windows let the sunlight pour in, illuminating the cozy, inviting interior. inside, the rooms were filled with warm, comfortable furnishings, each piece telling a story of family and love.

surrounding the house, trees were in full bloom, their branches heavy with ripe, luscious fruit. the air was filled with the sweet scent of apples and peaches, mingling with the fragrance of wildflowers that dotted the landscape.

the sun casts a golden hue, making everything seem almost magical. you’d finally finished your story and were eager to show eren. you spot him in the distance, tending to the horses, his silhouette strong and comforting. with a mischievous grin, you sneak up behind the tall man. “boo!” you yell, wrapping your arms around his solid frame. he chuckles, the sound rich and warm, turning around to face you.

“hi beautiful,” he hums, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple, his breath tickling your skin.

“hi you,” you sigh, letting yourself melt into his embrace for a moment, savoring the way he feels against you.

“what’s this?” he quirks an eyebrow at the folder in your hand, curiosity glinting in his eyes.

“my story, i finished up last night.” you pull back just enough to see his reaction. his expression shifts, a hint of sadness crossing his face as he realizes what this means. you’ve both known this day would come, but the reality of it is bittersweet. he’d enjoyed these last few weeks with you more than he’d like to admit. his eyes flicker from your face to the folder and back again, as if trying to memorize every detail.

god, he could get drunk off of you. today you’re wearing a black v-neck that hugs your curves, bell-bottom denim jeans adorned with a dark brown leather belt, and brown boots that click softly against the gravel. your hair is pulled into a high ponytail, but a few unruly strands have escaped, framing your face in a way that makes you look effortlessly beautiful.

reluctantly, he takes the folder from your hands. you watch him intently as he reads, not even realizing you’re holding your breath until he finishes the last page and looks up at you. “so, thoughts?” you ask, your voice tinged with nervousness as you anxiously cross your arms, awaiting his response.

eren inhales deeply, his gaze softening as he meets your eyes. "it's stunnin, it’s perfect.” he whispers, his voice brimming with sincere admiration. a smile spreads across your face, a wave of relief and pride washing over you. "that really means a lot coming from you." he steps a little closer, his fingers gently tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "i’m really gon’ to miss you," he confesses, his voice barely audible. "these last few weeks have been... amazin,” your heart feels heavy at his words, aware that your time together is drawing to a close. "i’ll miss you too, eren. more than you can imagine."

his lips curl into a smirk as he reaches down and grabs your waist, pulling you close to him once again. his green eyes are ablaze with passion and desire.the folder falls to the ground, forgotten, as eren cups your face in his hands. he looks down at you, his eyes drinking in every inch of you.

he closes the gap, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. it was unlike any other he had given you before. it was passionate and sweet, but held a sense of longing. a promise of more. you feel his hands move from your cheeks to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing his body against yours. your hands find their way to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair. you feel his tongue sweep over your bottom lip, and you let out a quiet moan, the sound setting something off inside him.

the kiss becomes more intense, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth, the taste of you intoxicating him. his hands begin roaming up and down your sides, leaving trails of fire on your skin.you gasp against his lips as his hand moves under your shirt and finds your breast. he moans into the kiss, his fingers brushing against your hardening nipple. your mind is fuzzy, thoughts incoherent as you cling to him, lost in the pleasure.

you can feel him growing harder beneath his jeans, his erection pressing against your leg. he breaks the kiss, his eyes hooded and filled with lust as he looks down at you, panting, lips swollen and red.

the way his eyes burn into yours sends a wave of arousal straight to your core. you can feel yourself getting wetter, aching for his touch. you grind against his thigh, desperate for friction. he lifts you up, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist.

he carries you towards the barn, kicking the door shut behind him. the smell of hay surrounds you as he gently pushes you, guiding you backward until the backs of your legs hit a haystack. you sank into the soft hay, the prickly texture contrasting with the smooth fabric of your pants. eren looms above you, eyes dark, his desire evident in the bulge straining against the denim. you lay there, breathing heavily, chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale, your skin flushed. your shirt is pulled up slightly, exposing your pierced navel, and your hair is mussed, wild and untamed. you look like a goddess. he wants to worship every inch of you.

your hands reach out, desperate to pull him close. your fingers hook into the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head. your eyes widen at the sight of his sculpted abs and broad shoulders. you run your hands over his toned chest, taking in the smooth planes and hard inked muscle. eren climbs on top of you, the weight of him pressing you deeper into the hay. he leans forward, his breath hot against your ear, and whispers, "tell me what you want, beautiful." his tone makes you whimper. "i-i want you to touch me," you breathe.

"good girl." his voice is husky and full of promise as his hand begins tracing patterns on your pudgy stomach, slowly working its way up your shirt. he pauses when he reaches the underside of your breast, his thumb ghosting over your stiff nipple. you moan, arching your back, craving his touch. his eyes darken further as he takes in the sight. he wastes no time, lowering himself to capture a nipple between his lips, sucking and teasing it with his tongue. you’re practically drooling as you push your chest into his mouth, encouraging his attentions. his hands roam over your thighs, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through you. his mouth finds yours, swallowing your whimpers as his fingers work their way over your body.

he breaks the kiss, trailing wet sloppy pecks along your jawline, down the side of your neck. he nips at the skin just below your ear, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. "fuck, eren..."

"that's it, baby, let me hear you," he husks, his voice dripping with desire. your hips buck, seeking friction. your clit throbs painfully, and you know if he keeps this up, you'll come undone with nothing but his fingers. he slides his hand down your body, fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans. he unbuttons them and pulls them off in one swift motion, tossing them to the side. he takes a moment to appreciate the view. you lay there, exposed and trembling with desire. his gaze lingers on your pussy, soaked and glistening, ready for him.

you spread your legs, giving him further access. his beefy fingers trail up the inside of your thigh, teasingly slow. he slips two fingers inside you, and a jolt of pleasure shoots through you. "ah, fuck!" you cry, throwing your head back as he curls his fingers. "that's it, princess. let me make you feel good," he groans, pumping his fingers in and out, setting a steady rhythm. your eyes roll back as his thumb rubs circles on your clit, sending waves of pleasure washing over you. your nails dig into his shoulders, clinging to him for dear life. “feels so good,” you shakily breathe out, your walls tightening around his fingers. he picks up the pace, his thumb rubbing your clit faster, calloused thumb padding the sensitive bud with more pressure.

"you're gonna cum all over my fingers, and then i'm gonna fuck you, sweetheart. do you understand?" he breathes, his voice laced with lust.

"y-yes!" you whimper, grinding your hips against his hand, chasing the release that's just out of reach. his eyes roam your face, taking in every detail, wanting to remember this moment. you're a mess, cheeks flushed, lips parted as you pant. your eyelids flutter, threatening to close. "keep your eyes open, princess. w’na see you when you cum," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding.you struggle to obey, the pleasure overwhelming. you're right on the edge. he slips a third finger inside you, stretching you. the sensation is too fucking much. “mhm, taking all of me like a big girl.” his free hand grips the back of your neck, forcing you to maintain eye contact as he whispers, "eyes open."

your fingers grip the rough hay underneath you, snapping the straw. you wanna scream as he slows down,green eyes watching his digits slide in and out of you slowly, followed by a soft squelch each time ."please... please, eren..." you beg. you're so close, the tension in your body wound tight. he grins wickedly, loving the power he has over you.

"you wanna cum, baby? you gotta ask nicely," he teases."fuck, please, let me cum eren. i'm so close," you moan, unable to take it any longer. “city girl pretty when she’s all fucked out.” he grins, leaning down, cupping your soft thick thighs before attaching his mouth to your shivering pussy. you cry out as his tongue finds your clit, free hand now thrusting into you. you grip the hay tighter, trying to ground yourself. you're so close it’s painful. “god.” you groan, one hand supporting you the other thumbing your sore nipples. you buck your hips desperately over his face, twitching as his nose brushes continuously against your hot clit. a hand keeps you firmly in place, gripping the soft fat on your thigh.

“stop runnin.” his voice is muffled by you, fingers twisting in his hair. the wet sounds of his mouth on you, lapping at your juices and slurping, echo throughout the empty barn. your legs tremble under his hold. it's almost impossible to think about getting away from him. the grip he has on your thighs is tight, but you still manage to squirm against his tongue.

he pulls his face from you and replaces them with his fingers. the thick digits spreading you open. “stop t-teasing,” you whine as he kisses your inner thighs, licking and sucking the sensitive skin. he chuckles darkly, the sound reverberating through your core.

you whimper, tears stinging the corners of your eyes, your body aching for release. he finally takes pity on you, sucking on your clit, the vibration of his moans sending you careening over the edge. “cummin!” you cry out, toes curling, nails digging into the skin of your palms.eren pulls his fingers away your sopping cunt, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, the taste of you addicting.

"so fuckin’ good baby," he murmurs.

you look up at him, eyes heavy-lidded and satisfied. you reach out and pull him towards you, crashing your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue.he groans into the kiss, his hand grabbing the back of your neck. your hands find their way to the waistband of his jeans, fumbling with the zipper. you manage to unbutton them and slip a hand inside, palming his cock. you can feel him twitch, and a low moan escapes his lips.

"fuck, baby. so hard for you," he pants, his breathing becoming labored ."i need you inside me," you beg, unable to wait any longer. "yeah? you want me to fuck you?" he teases, his voice dripping with lust.you nod, biting your lip. god, you had him wrapped around your pretty little finger. “ask nicely baby."

"i need you," you beg, the desperation clear in your voice.he smiles wickedly, pulling off his jeans and boxers, exposing his massive cock.your eyes widen, your breath catching in your throat.

"it's okay, darlin. i'll take care of you," he reassures, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before he tugs off his shirt. he lines himself up, rubbing his tip along your wet slit, coating himself in your slick. you whine, bucking your hips. you’re so desperate for him to fill you. he pushes into you slowly, stretching your tight pussy. you gasp as he bottoms out, the feeling of him inside you overwhelming.

"oh my god," you shudder, your hands clutching his back. "fuck, you're so tight," he sighs, his face buried in the crook of your neck.he gives you a moment to adjust before pulling out and slamming back into you, setting a fast and brutal pace.the barn is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, moans, and the occasional swear. "so fucking good," he grunts, his cock hitting your cervix with each thrust.

"more... “ you hiccup, barely coherent, the pleasure building inside you once again. he complies, fucking you harder into the hay, his grip on your hips tightening. "you like that, baby? you like the way i fuck you?" he grunts, his thrusts never slowing. "yes, fuck, yes! please don't stop," you cry, lost in the feeling. your nails dig into his skin, leaving welts down his back.

eren’s strokes are relentless, each one hitting your sweet spot, sending shockwaves through you. one hand holds your leg firmly, his fingers digging into your soft flesh, leaving marks that would remind you of your passion later. the force of his thrusts making your breasts bounce.

his hands move, wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him. he sits up, pulling your legs up and over his shoulders, and starts slamming his cock deep inside you. he can't stop himself, can't even think about slowing down, you're so hot and tight, and wet and fuck, he just wants to stay like this with you forever. he feels your nails clawing at his arms, hears your voice moaning and whimpering, and it drives him insane. "fuck," he hisses, his thrusts get faster, deeper, harder. he feels the pressure building and knows he can't hold out much longer.

"ah, fuck, eren!" you mewl, the pleasure almost too much. he moves his hand between your bodies and starts sloppily rubbing your clit, desperate to feel you cum again. his hips are moving at a fevered pace, and he's close, so close. he's not sure he can keep going, and he needs you to cum. he leans down and takes your nipple into his mouth and sucks. you can feel him pushing against the sensitive spot deep inside once again, his fingers circling and pinching your clit.

he pulls out, flipping you over and lifting your hips ."i wanna watch my cock slide in and out of you," he muses. you spread your legs, presenting yourself to him. he wastes no time, plunging back into you, his thick cock hitting even deeper at this angle this time.

your arms give out and you fall face first against the hay. eren grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head up. "i want to hear you," he demands. you try to form words, but it's impossible. all you can do is moan and whimper. he pulls out almost completely before slamming back into you. "god, you're so fucking tight," he groans. you can feel yourself beginning to unravel. your legs are shaking, and your pussy clenches around his thick shaft.

"you're gonna cum for me, aren't you?”

you nod pathetically, “mhmmm y-yes!”

"cum for me, baby. let me hear how much you love my cock," he groans, his fingers tightening around your hair. his words are your undoing. your orgasm crashes over you for a second time. “fuck!" you cry out, the sound echoing throughout the barn. your pussy clamps down on his cock, earning a soft whine from him.

you’re sore as eren fucks you through your orgasm, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. the way your ass reverberates off his toned stomach has his eyes rolling back, one hand digs into your hip the other swiping his sweaty hair from his eyes. he wants to burn this into his memory, the sight of you coming undone, the smell of sex and the barn, the way your walls hug his dick, it all feels too good.

"so fucking beautiful," he praises, his thrusts becoming erratic. he's close, the pressure in his stomach building.you look over your shoulder, watching him come undone. his mouth is ajar, head dipped back, furrowed eyebrows over closed eyes. ”fill me ren, it’s all yours” you moan. your words send him over the edge.

"shit, baby. i'm gonna cum," he cries , his voice strained. both hands are on your hips now, his hips flushed against yours as he starts digging into you. "oh god, yes!" you cry, the overstimulation causing tears to form in the corners of your eyes. he slams into you a few more times before he cums, burying himself to the hilt, his cock pulsating as he fills you with his seed. "fuck," he puffs, his eyes fluttering open, his chest rising and falling. you feel his warmth spilling inside you, and the sensation brings a wave of pleasure washing over you.

he pulls out and collapses on the hay beside you, eyes closed. he’s surprised when he feels you straddle him, a guttural moan escaping his mouth as you press kisses behind his ear .” can’t get enough hu—“ his words catch in his throat as you grip his taut cock, sliding him over your cream-pied pussy. “shit,” he whimpers. “mmm, looks like i woke him up." you purr, grinding against him.

his eyes roll back, his hands finding their way to your hips once again. "fuck,” he gulps, his voice barely above a whisper.your hand slips between your legs, gathering some of the cum leaking out of you. you bring it up to his mouth, and he sucks it off your fingers. fuck, he’s so hot.

you lean forward, pressing your lips against his. his tongue slides against yours, and you taste the faint sweetness of him mixed with the tanginess of yourself. you break the kiss, looking down at him with a smirk. "you're a mess, city girl," he chuckles.you pout playfully, running a hand through his hair. "mhm, wanna make you cum again," you coo.his eyes darken with lust. "is that a threat or a promise?"

you giggle, grinding against him. "a little bit of both." he smiles, his hands wandering down to your ass, gripping your cheeks and giving them a light squeeze."you're going to be the death of me," he sighs.

"mmm, i can live with that."

“yeah—fuck.” he swears as you finally begin sinking down onto him, hands flat on his chest. he clenches his jaw, his eyes screwing shut as he fights for control. you drop slowly onto his hard length, taking him inch by inch. you gasp as he fills you, stretching and satisfying you. his hands grip your hips, guiding your movements as you begin to ride him.

you set a slow, torturous pace, rising and falling, your head feels heavy and you can’t help but cock it back, reveling in the sensation. eren's eyes are closed, his jaw clenched, as he struggled to hold on.

"faster," he grunts, his voice strained. "ride me harder."

you obliged, quickening your pace, your hips moving in a wild rhythm. the hay crunched beneath you as you rode him with abandon, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. eren's hands hold your waist tighter, helping to lift you as you slammed down onto him.

"that's it," he groans, his voice thick. "feel me, feel how deep i am inside you."

you lean forward, your breasts brushing against his chest, your nipples hardening at the contact. you kissed him hungrily, tongues tangling as you moved together in perfect harmony. you could feel your orgasm building again, whimpering at the feeling of so full again. his thick cock pressing against your sore walls, and it hurts, but the pain is pleasurable.

"s’fucking beautiful," he moans between kisses, his fingers now painfully digging into you. “shittt,” you choke, savoring the feeling of him inside you.his breathing becomes ragged, and he can feel the heat pooling in his stomach. “my god,” he shakily mumbles , hands kneading your breast as you grind your soppy pussy against him.

"you're gonna make me cum!" he warns.

"good,”

he bucks his hips, matching your rhythm.your head falls back once again the pleasure too much. you're so close. he sits up, attaching his lips to the sensitive spot on your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.you gasp, your hand wrapping around the back of his neck. you’re bouncing on his throbbing cock now, eren’s face is buried into the crook of your neck, a series of gasps and whines erupting from him. you’re milking him so good it’s got his thighs shaking. it’s been less than a minute yet he’s already twitching inside you, your slick walls urging him to decorate you.

"ughm." he moans, his hands trailing down your back.

"that's it, baby. " you coo, your fingers curling in his damp hair, pulling slightly. "come inside me," you encourage him, voice breathy, and that's it, he loses all control, and the world shatters around him as he cums, his thrusts up into you becoming erratic. he feels the hot rush of his cum spurting inside you, and his body shudders and shakes. your name escaping his lips, over and over.

you lay like that for a long time, holding each other, until you climb off him, his hands trailing lazily over your sweat-soaked body as you lay beside him. you can feel his seed spilling out of you, and the sensation sends a little thrill through you. he strokes your face, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “you okay? i wasn’t too rough was i?” he frowns, afraid he might’ve hurt you. you laugh, “you weren’t.” you whisper, padding your thumb across his lips.

“m’gna miss your pretty face.” he mutters into your hair, you hum, not sure what to say.the two of you stay like that, curled up together in the hay. the sun begins to set, and the orange light streams through the cracks in the wood. the crickets chirp, wind breezing through. it's peaceful. "we should probably get dressed," you sigh, knowing you have to go start packing.

"just a little longer," he pleads, holding you tighter.

"okay." the two of you lay there, watching the sun set, enjoying the feeling of being in each other's arms. you know the time will come when you have to leave, but for now, you're content. "i don't want this moment to end," he whispers, his fingers ghosting over your arm.

"me neither."

"stay with me.” he offers.

"what do you mean?" you sit up slightly. "stay with me. leave the city life behind. we can be together. i'll take care of you." you contemplate his offer. could you really leave your life behind and start over? you think about your friends, your job, and everything you'd be leaving behind. and you can’t. “i’m sorry eren, but i can’t.” you sigh, heart heavy. "i see." it’s hard to hide the disappointment in his voice. "but i'll visit, i promise." you press a kiss on his cheek, "will you now?" he turns to look at you. "of course. i don't think i could stay away from you, country boy."

a grin breaks across his face,” guess we'll just have to see about that, city girl."

as always, like, comment or reblog if you enjoyed! ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[shawtuzi]

omg i remember your peaches and coconut fics hows my fav couple especially daddy eren i hope as freaky as ever 🤗☺️☺️

they’re doing soooo good!! you remember that fat rock and big house he promised you?? well he was able to get them for you and much more. take a walk with me real quick babe—

this is 18+ so mdni thank yewww!!! cw include: black coded reader, eren being a dad, some talk about church stuff (not rlly), mentions of sexcapades w jean hehe (literally a whole ass flashback of reader giving them both head), oral m and f receiving, eren eating it over her panties, shoe humping, mentions of a lactation kink, unprotected sex, kinda public sex?? they fuck in a bathroom, creampie bc would it rlly be a fic by me if no one was getting nutted in? NOT PROOFREAD SAWRY </3

“ren? rennyyy,” eren’s eyes cracked open at the sound of your soft voice, quickly connecting with yours. you were sitting on his stomach, hands resting on his chest while your cute lil cross necklace dangled in his face. he shifted his head the tiniest bit to read the alarm clock—

6:37 A.M.

why were you waking him up so early?? it couldn’t be for sex…no…he fucked you back to sleep around two, he couldn’t hear any noise coming from your daughters’ baby monitor, he didn’t see your eldest daughter curled up next to him so what could it be??

“it’s sunday eren.”

fuckkkkk. “oh…right,” eren let out a deep sigh, shutting his eyes once more. it was sunday— which means church, which means seeing his father, which means making pointless small talk with your parents, which means hearing your daughters whine and cry about how tired they are and how they don’t wanna go to the church daycare.

“why don’t we just stay in this sunday hm?” eren said, voice laced with tiredness. he brought his hands to your hips, squeezing the soft flesh tenderly. you giggled, burying your face in his neck that still smelled of his body wash.

“very veryyyy tempting but i promised my mom we’d be there this week, plus we haven’t been in a couple weeks anyway,” you kissed at his neck, making him squeeze your hips harder.

unlike both your guys’ parents you and eren do not attend church every weekend and aren’t quite as religious, especially eren. the only reason he attends is because it’s what you want, and he’s not one to object anything his wife wants so he just sucks it up and goes.

“c’mere,” eren muttered, bringing his hands from your hips to your silky smooth thighs. you leant down and he was quick to capture your lips in a kiss, humming in content when you kissed him back. eren bit down unexpectedly on your bottom lip making you gasp, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth.

you laced your fingers in his soft, brown locks before giving them a harsh tug, breaking the heated kiss. “get ready we leave in an hour….and you may need to take a cold shower,” you giggled, giving his pouting lips one more kiss before making your way to your daughters’ room to wake them. eren glanced down at his semi and threw his head back in annoyance. a cold shower was indeed needed.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“but i don’t wanna go!” your eldest daughter stomped her foot in protest, her big brown eyes welling up with tears. eren sighed, kneeling down to be eye level with her, “it’s just for an hour, see that clock up there? once the little hand is on the 9 mommy and i will get you and we’ll get something special for lunch! how does that sound sweet thing?”

she sniffled and slowly nodded, reaching her arms out to get one last hug from him before you left her with the church daycare. “that’s my girl. mommy, sissy, and i will see you in a bit okay?” he gave her chubby cheek a fat kiss, and wiped her tears before handing her off to the caretaker.

“you’re such a good daddy,” you whispered in eren’s ear, giving the spot below his ear a soft kiss. eren cleared his throat, uttering out a small ‘thank you’. god you were going to be the death of him.

“let me carry this for you,” he didn’t wait for your response, taking the carrier that was holding your youngest. she was fast asleep and by the grace of god hopefully it would stay that way.

you and eren walked hand in hand into the chapel, immediately being greeted by people you’ve known since you were teenagers. you did most of the talking which eren was thankful for, oh how lucky he was to have married a certified yapper.

“y/n?”

you whipped your head around, your mouth dropping slightly in shock. “jean? oh my goodness how are you?” you giggled, bringing him in for a bone crushing hug. eren kissed his teeth, choosing to skip the reunion and instead find your parents to sit with them. you rolled your eyes at him, giggling once more. six years of dating and four years of being married and he still was so possessive. you wouldn’t change a thing about it though.

“he hasn’t changed i see,” jean chuckled, scratching at the scuff on his jaw. you glanced at eren once more, just to find him already looking at the both of you, brows furrowed. “nope…still the same eren we all know and love.” love was an understatement to you though—eren was your moon and stars, your reason for breathing, he was everything to you. he had once told you before—while he was balls deep inside you that he wanted to claim you mind, body, and soul and you would say he definitely succeeded.

you and jean talked for a few more minutes before going your separate ways to find your seats before service started. the second you sat down eren wrapped his strong arms around your waist, pulling you as close as possible. he nuzzled his nose in your hair, internally melting at the smell of peaches and coconut. after all these years it was still your signature scent, and never failed to make his heart beat faster and his dick jump.

“jean sounds like he’s doing pretty good….said he’s been doing a lot of traveling,” you spoke softly, resting your hand on eren’s thigh, leaning into his side. eren hummed, suddenly finding more interest in your sleeping daughter. she was the spitting image of you—absolutely perfect in every way.

eren tensed when he felt you squeeze his thigh, “you alright my love? you’re awfully quiet, you aren’t upset with me for making you come here are you?” you looked at him with those doe eyes and he immediately felt like the biggest asshole in the world.

“of course not baby i never mind coming here with you, you know that. it’s just that i wasn’t expecting him to be here. we haven’t seen him since…you know,” he trailed off, giving your hand a loving squeeze.

it was true—you both hadn’t seen jean since high school which was when your sexcapdes with him were at an all time high. since then eren has never let another man lay a hand on you sexually. you belonged to him and no one else and he belonged to you just as much.

you felt your cheeks get hot at the memories of the three of you messing around, bringing an amused smirk to eren’s face. as much as he was annoyed to see that man it definitely gave him an incentive to tease you a little about it.

eren glanced over at your parents and his mother who were immersed in their own conversation before leaning in close to you. “remember when you sucked us both off at the same time? you looked so pretty, especially with both our nut on your face. remember that baby?” you gasped at his language, elbowing him in the side making him laugh.

before he could say anything else the service finally started. about fifteen minutes into eren’s dad speaking you felt eren’s thumb begin to rub soft circles on your hip, giving it a firm squeeze every now and again. why oh why did he have to bring up those memories of you with him and jean—now it was all your mind could think about.

*flashback*

“a-ah shit! just like that baby,” eren growled at the way you choked around his dick, spit dripping from your chin and onto the new floral printed dress he’d bought for you. while you were using your mouth on eren your free hand was occupied with jean, stroking his dick in the best way possible.

every time you’d gag harshly around eren your hands would accidentally squeeze his tip a little too hard, causing a symphony of moans to slip past his lips—which also happened to have your cherry flavored lip gloss smeared across them. “sucking us so good baby mmh fuck—thank you. say thank you dickhead,” eren growled elbowing jean in the side. your pulled eren out of your mouth with a pop! quickly engulfing jean’s dick in your warm mouth.

jean’s head fell back against the wall, his adams apple bobbing. “t-thank you y/n, thank you so much,” his voice sounding whiny and breathy, and he might’ve cared sounding like that in front of eren if you weren’t making him feel so sooo good. you hummed around his dick, your tongue licking the underside of him to bring him closer to his orgasm.

your jaw was aching and the whole lower side of your face was covered with spit and their pre but you were as content as could be. the way you squeezed your thighs together didn’t go unnoticed by eren, so him being the sweet boyfriend he was gently nudged your thighs apart before pressing his shoe against your pussy. you wasted no time humping his shoe, your little mewls and moans making shivers crawl up jean’s spine.

eren nudged jean, a devilish smirk on his kiss swollen lips. “see the way she’s humping my shoe like a little slut? you fucking wish huh?” he chuckled, his head tilting back in pleasure when you began to play with his balls. jean’s nostrils flared as he took in the way you desperately ground your pussy against eren’s shoe.

“she’s so wet—fuck how is she so wet just from this?” eren let out a breathy laugh because jean did sound genuinely astonished at how soaked you were. “see the way her panties are sticking to her pussy? she’s soaked,” eren pressed his shoe harder against your pussy, snickering at the way your hips stuttered.

it was too much for jean. the way your plump lips suckled on his tip, the way your hand squeezed his base just right, and worst of all—the lewd wet noises coming from your pussy just from humping on eren. “i’m not g’nna last s-she’s gonna make me cum, you’re gonna make me cum y/n—”

“not in her fucking mouth you aren’t, how ‘bout we finish on her face? would you like that baby?” eren gripped onto your hair, pulling your off jean’s dick with the tiniest bit of force. your chest heaved up and down as you licked a your swollen lips. the way you looked at him—oh he could’ve taken you right there jean watching or not.

you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and nodded, the sweetest smile now gracing your lips. “yes—please finish on my face,” your hands began to stroke both of their dicks once again, your pussy throbbing at the way they both twitched and throbbed in your hands.

jean was the first to let go of course once he saw you open your mouth, tongue sticking out of course. eren was quick to follow, both of their cum landing on your face in quick spurts. “what a fucking sight this is” eren bit his lip, running his dick over your lips, a chill running down his spine when he felt you suckle on it.

*flashback over*

you felt a particularly harsh squeeze on your side breaking you out of your thoughts. “you’re awfully quiet, i bet you were thinking about it huh? dirty little thing,” eren let out a low chuckle, pulling you impossibly closer to his body. “didn’t we fuck you at the same time that day too? poor thing you were so sore afterwards having two dicks in that little pussy—”

you gasped at his foul language, catching the attention of your parents. “you alright y/n?” your mother asked making you even more flustered. you looked up at eren, then to your mother before standing up. eren’s brows furrowed in confusion when you reached your hand out to him, but he gladly took it anyway.

“my chest is feeling a little sore….i think i just need to go pump or something. do you guys minding watching her for a minute? we’ll be super quick thank you!” you didn’t give them much time to respond before you were dragging eren out of the chapel.

eren pulled you back, stopping you in your tracks, “do you really need to pump? i don’t think i brought the machine with me but i don’t mind leaving to g—” eren was cut off by your lips crashing against his, your hands clutching onto his dress shirt for dear life.

“m’fine ren *kiss* jus’ need you *kiss kiss* really bad” you words were muffled due to your lips never leaving eren’s, but he understood you just fine.

eren grabbed your trembling hand and led you to the nearest bathroom, ushering you into the closest stall the second you entered. “when’s the last time i fucked you here?” eren asked quietly, pushing your front against the stall door. you whined at the sloppy kisses he began to leave on your shoulders and neck, your backside pushing against his growing erection.

“u-um i think it was years ago when—hah! w-we were teenagers,” you let out a breathless laugh at the memory of you both crammed in this same stall, your legs thrown over both his shoulders while he devoured your pussy. eren began to kiss down your neck, then your back until he was kneeling down, face to face with your dress covered backside.

he slowly lifted up your dress, his big hands roaming all around your ass and the fat of your thighs. “m’glad you remember, that’s one of my favorite memories of us. the number one being the day i married you of course,” he chuckled, spreading your ass cheeks to get a glimpse of your already soaked pussy. he licked his lips before taking a long, fat lick up your center, chuckling when he heard you gasp.

even though you were still wearing your panties he could still taste the sweet, yet tangy taste that was you—his beautiful oh so sweet wife. you both stayed like that for a few moments before eren got impatient and yanked your panties to the side, his lips finding your swollen clit with ease.

“r-renny, not so loudddd” you sniffled, reaching your hand back to pull at his hair, running his perfectly styled bun but he didn’t mind in the slightest. your pleas for him to quiet down went in one ear and out the other because if anything it sounded like he was slurping on your pussy even louder than beforehand.

it didn’t take long before you were cumming all over eren’s tongue, your knees nearly buckling at the way he continued to suck on your sensitive clit. “fuck i’ll never get sick of eating this pussy,” eren ran his tongue over his lips and chin, fighting the urge to dive back in just so you could squirt on his tongue.

“gotta make this quick honey, don’t wanna keep everyone waiting too long yeah?” eren kept you facing forward, your back now arched, glistening pussy on display waiting for him to finally fuck you. he ran his tip between your folds, shuddering at how warm you felt.

without warning eren rammed his hips forward, forcing a broken moan to leave your lips. eren was quick to cover your mouth with his hand, hissing when he felt you bite down on the skin. “sorry baby m’sorry,” eren cooed, coating your neck in wet kisses while his free hand wasted no time toying with your clit. his pace was quick and brutal, the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout the bathroom.

“mmph—renny,” he heard your muffled voice and removed his hand, gripping your chin to force you to look at him. “what is it baby? what do you need from daddy hm? i’m fucking you good ain’t i?” eren looked down and cracked the smallest smile at the way your pussy was sucking him in, a white sheen of your cream coating his base.

you didn’t say anything, instead you stuck out your tongue waiting for eren to do what he did best—give you the sloppiest fucking kiss you’ve received, each time nastier than the last. eren chuckled and wasted no time sucking your tongue into his mouth, moaning into the kiss. you eyes rolled into the back of your head, your pussy clenching onto eren’s dick like a vice. oh how you lived for his kisses.

eren changed his strokes to deep and slow, trying in any way to contain the loud squelching noise from your cunt. “ah ah ah! o-oh m-my,” you bit down harshly on your bottom lip making eren tisk.

“c’mon baby say what you were gonna say he’s listening,” eren growled, pinching your clit between his fingers. if it weren’t for eren holding you up you surely would’ve collapsed.

“oh my god! e-rennnn,” your thighs tensed as eren fucked you through your orgasm, droplets of your cum dripping to the floor. “fuck yeah that’s it baby, scream for your god let ‘em know who’s fucking this pussy,” eren rolled his hips in a way that had your eyes crossing, the feeling of another orgasm already approaching.

eren released his grip on your chin, his hands now finding purchase on your hips, ramming into you with everything he had. “s’good,” he hummed, giving your ass three quick swats.

“so *thrust* fucking *harder thrust* good *really hard thrust*”

your hands scrambled to find something—anything to grab onto, your legs felt like jelly, you body slowly sliding down which each brutal thrust. “nope get up—stand up straight like a good girl,” eren growled, lifting your body up once more. you were practically on your tippy toes, tongue lolled out, and eyes crossed as eren treated you like his own personal fuck toy.

he’s so damn strong. you could feel his muscles bulging through his dress shirt, his abs that he’s maintained all these years making the most delicious clapping sounds against your ass.

“s-shit m’gonna cum, where you want it honey,” eren let out a shaky breath, balls tightening when he felt you squeeze around him for the umpteenth time. your brain was scrambled, the only form of communication you were able to give him is a whine, your mouth slowly dropping open.

“mmph alright baby i’ll give it to you,” eren gave you three more toe curling thrusts before you came with a squeal, white dots taking over your vision. eren cursed when he felt himself already cumming, quickly pulling out and pushing you to your knees. he slipped his thumb in your mouth, pushing down on your tongue to open your mouth wider before releasing the rest of his cum on your awaiting tongue.

you hummed at the taste of him, taking more of his dick into your mouth with ease. eren’s breath hitched, his thighs tensing up from overstimulation. eren gently pulled you away from his cock, a line of spit connecting your lips to the tip. “i think i got a little inside m’sorry baby” he puffed air from his cheeks, tucking himself back in his dress pants.

eren gently lifted you from the floor, making sure your body was steady before bringing you in a tight embrace. you nuzzled your face into his chest, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his cologne.

“you good?” he whispered into your hair, gently stroke your lower back. you nodded, holding onto him tighter, whining when you felt his cum drip down the inside of your thigh. “clean it up,” you mumbled into his shirt, your cheeks flaming hot.

eren let out a low chuckle, muttering out a soft ‘m’kay sweet thing’ before pushing your back against the stall once more. he made quick work putting your leg over his shoulder, licking and sucking at your thighs, cleaning up his cum like the good lil husband he was.

once he was finished he gave your clit a soft kiss, letting out a breathy laugh when he felt you smack the side of his head. “i’m done i’m done, now let’s get outta here before people start to wonder where we are,” he figured your parents were already wondering you two had gone off too but he rlly didn’t give a damn—not when you just gave him one of the best nuts he’s ever had.

just as you two were leaving the restroom you bumped into—of course jean fucking kirstein. “what are you doing?” eren asked, wrapping his arm around you, pulling you into his side. jean looked at the bathroom door then back at eren, “um using the bathroom? what were you two doing?” he cocked his eyebrow, tilting his head to the side.

you both didn’t say anything, but the fucked out looked on your face and eren’s shit eating grin told him everything he needed to know. “you guys are gross….now if you’ll excuse me,” jean cleared his throat, brushing past you and eren to get into the restroom.

you buried your face in eren’s side in embarrassment making his laugh. “don’t get all worked up doll, you know he won’t say shit—probably in there right now jerking it to the thought fucking you,” eren gave your hip a possessive squeeze, guiding you to the chapel.

fortunately for him service was just finishing up.

“there you two are! you missed the whole thing, what took so long?” your mother rushed up to you both, you could see the tiniest bit of frustration in her eyes.

eren took the carrier that was holding your daughter from her, “she just had to pump sorry we took so long mrs. y/l/n. we’ll be sure to join you next sunday to make up for it i promise” eren used the most sincere tone he could, he gave your hip a loving squeeze when he felt you relax into his touch. “now if you’ll excuse us we gotta get genesis,” you both bid your parents farewell before making your way to the basement where the sounds of screaming children and parents could be heard.

“there’s my sweet girl!” you giggled, giving your daughter a bear hug when she jumped into your arms. eren leant down to give her forehead a kiss, “see? that wasn’t too bad now was? now let’s go get something yummy to eat! daddy’s starving,” he whispered the last part in your ear, giving your behind a pinch making you jump.

“don’t worry i’ll make sure you’re nice and fed i promise,” you giggled giving him three quick kisses on his jaw. eren gave you a toothy grin, ecstatic because he knew you’d keep your promise.

and that my friends is how peaches and coconut! eren and his wifey are living <3

[lostalioth]

𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬

→ premise: steve’s favorite thing was to have you in his lap. feeling you impossibly close, your cunt squeezing his cock. he loves the intimacy, you however can’t stand sitting so still.

→ pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, cock warming, begging, daddy kink, nicknames [baby, angel], reader calls him stevie, not proofread

→ a/n: kinktober 13

Steve loved feeling impossibly close to you in any way that he could, entangling your limbs and holding you as tightly as he could as the two of you fell deep into sleep. However he had another way that he loved feeling close and to have those intimate moments with you, one you always seemed too just impatient for.

“Steviee please move your hips just a lil, i've been s’good” you whine out attempting to grind your pelvis down on his trying anything to get friction or movement. He tsks and grabs a hold of your hips keeping you stationary and making it harder to move. even if his cock that was currently buried to the hilt inside you jumps at the little bit of pleasure your desperate squirming gives him.

“Just stay still a little longer, angel okay? Can you do that for daddy?” He coos and rubs his thumb over your cheek as you pout at him and soften your eyes, trying your best interruption of puppy dog eyes. “Nooo come on, just a couple more minutes baby, i like feeling close to you like this” his signature charming smile spreads on his face, the same smile that made you fall for him.

“Buttt i wanna cum daddy, pleaseee i've been good haven't i?” You whine out, dragging out your words as your pussy clenches and continues leaking on his cock coating it in your slick. “Not being so good right now” he hisses out as his patience is being tested by your impatience. Gripping your chin in his hand he pulls your face up close to his, your lips pressed against his as he speaks looking right in your eyes. “You really wanna cum baby?” He questions even though he knew the answer, you just said it and he could clearly feel your pussy throbbing begging for relief.

You nod slowly, your hips trying their hardest to push against his grip now that he was only holding you with one hand. “Then beg, beg to cum on my cock angel” lightly he leaves a peck to your lips before letting go of both your face and your body.

Leaning back against the headboard of the bed, he tosses his arms behind his head and lets your body chase the euphoria of your high by yourself. Your hips immediately buck and fall into a frantic rhythm as you ride him, your pleas falling out of your mouth.

“Pleaseee, i've been good i just wanna cum daddy” you cry out, your eyes screwing shut as his cock rubs along your velvety walls with each drag of your hips. “Wanna cum so bad please, i'll keep cock warming daddy after” you whine, your begging not falling on deaf ears. Steve knew you were always far more patient and pilate in his arms after he’s made you cum a few times, it was a bit of a bad idea to attempt this before that. “Need to cum s’bad pleaseee Steviee” you moan out, your words mushing and slurring together the tighter the knot gets in the pit of your stomach.

“Pleasee daddy, fuck~ cock s’big and feels s’good” you moan out getting a bit sidetracked in your pleas as the pleasure hits your head more, making it go fuzzy as your hips flatter in thier grinding.

Steve holds onto your body taking over, pulling you down flush against his chest as he jackhammers up inside you, his hips smacking against your ass as his cock hits your cervix hard with each thrust. “You can cum angel, cum for daddy” he instructs in his soft tone as his own high is fast approaching, that in all honesty being the only reason he gave in faster than he intended to.

”Fuck!” You scream out in a wanton moan as your climax crashes over, your pussy clenching down hard on Steve’s cock milking his own orgasm out of him steadily after. “Atta girl baby, s’good for me” he coos as the both of you ride out your highs, your body melting into his arms and turning into a pilate dulce mush against him. “Thank you daddy” you mumble out as you bury your face in his neck, attempting to dig your way under his skin if you could.

He smiles as he had finally calmed you down and got what he wanted, to feel as close as he possibly could to you.

His cum slowly leaking out of your puffy cunt that was still wrapped around his cock warming him, helping that feeling along.

→ a/n: i rushed this as its WAY later than when i wanted/needed to post this to be on track with kinktober (there will hopefully be a second post today and 2 tm lmao to get me back on track to finish AGAIN)

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Cannibals [Chapter 1: Bruises and Bloodlines]

Series summary: You are his sister, his lover, his betrothed despite everyone else's protests; you have always belonged to Aemond and believe you always will. But on the night he returns from Storm's End with horrifying news, the trajectories of your lives are irrevocably changed. Will the war of succession make your bond permanent, or destroy the twisted and fanatical love you share?

Chapter warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), Aemond stressing everybody out, Aegon hating his life even more than usual, RIP lil Luke Strong, don't touch bats in real life or you will get rabies.

Word count: 6.3k

💙 All my writing can be found HERE! ❤️

Tagging: @themoonofthesun @chattylurker @mrs-starkgaryen @moonfllowerr @ecstaticactus

🦇 Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🦇

Cannibal, a noun: one that devours its own.

~~~~~~~~~~

He’s back, you can feel it: a sensation like falling, the impact of Vhagar’s claws against the earth. You get glimpses like this, unpredictable flashes of intuition, a window into the contents of his mind or the scenery he is draped in like how branches hang from a willow tree. You set Blueberry down on the windowsill, where he skitters to the edge and swoops out into the night, chasing white specks of moths and lacewings. Then you leave your bedchamber to meet Aemond in the hallway.

One of the maids is there, trying to be patient as she paces with Maelor in her arms. He’s just like you were at that age: a demon who never sleeps. His white-blonde hair is disheveled, his eyes rheumy and pink from crying in protest. But then they brighten.

“Red Red!” Maelor swipes at you with tiny, grasping hands.

“What are you doing awake?” you coo at him, beaming. “It’s nighttime. You aren’t a bat. Are you a bat, huh? Are you hiding a pair of wings somewhere?”

He giggles as you pretend to inspect him. The maid smiles.

“If you don’t have any wings, I’m afraid you’ll have to go right to sleep. That’s the rule for humans.”

Maelor trills in his toddler lisp: “Then I want to be a bat.”

“Okay! I’ll find some bugs for you to eat.”

“No!” he squeals, dismayed. “No bugs!”

“In that case, I guess you’re a human after all. If you go to bed now, you can help me collect seashells tomorrow.”

“Fine,” Maelor agrees grudgingly, and the maid ferries him away. From the Godswood, great horned owls hoot. One of the knights of Aegon’s Kingsguard, Sir Willis Fell from the Stormlands, passes by on his patrol and gives you a quick nod, polite but a bit avoidant, awkward truths he pretends he can ignore. He doesn’t ask if you need assistance or why you’re awake at this hour. He already knows. He vanishes again, his white cloak swishing behind him like the tail of a wolf or a jackal.

You lurk at the top of the Grand Staircase shrouded in shadows and shifting firelight, feeling night wind skate over your cheek like children playing on a frozen lake, and that breeze is not here but outside where Aemond must be trudging across the courtyard towards the royal apartments in Maegor’s Holdfast. You drum your fingertips impatiently on the stone banister. When at last he appears—first only a silhouette in the darkness, then rippling into color under the torches, black leather and silver hair—Aemond is drenched with rain and ascending swiftly, two stairs at a time.

You grin as you take a step down to him, slinking, conspiratorial. He told you all his plans before he left; he tells you almost everything. “How was Storm’s End?”

But Aemond doesn’t answer. He blows past you and stalks towards Criston’s chambers, rainwater dripping from his hair and littering the floor with tiny, transluscent pools.

You turn to watch him leave, mystified. “Aemond?”

He says without stopping: “Go wake Aegon and Mother. Tell them to meet me in the small council chamber. I’ll get Criston and Grandsire.”

“Why?” Again, Aemond ignores you. This is unusual. You bolt after him, closing the space between you until your fingers catch his wrist. “Aemond, what—?”

He grabs you and pins you to the wall, the stones cold against your belly through the crimson velvet of your robe, Aemond’s hips braced against yours, domineering, demanding, promising what he will do for you after. You close your eyes and sigh shakily—a savoring, a surrender—and then he is tender, turning your face so he can kiss the apple of your cheek. He murmurs, warm and low: “Do as I ask.”

You nod. “Okay,” you agree in a whisper. Aemond releases you and vanishes to rouse Criston. You break for Aegon’s chambers.

There is a woman in his bed, snoring softly and with long auburn hair spilling over her bare shoulders. He has endeavored to spend less time drinking and philandering since becoming king, and yet…it is so rare for a creature to change its spots or stripes or scales. Aegon has always been this way. Without his vices, you would not recognize him.

You kneel beside the bed and rest a palm lightly on Aegon’s damp forehead. You have to be careful when you wake him; he flinches, he startles, he has too many memories of being ripped from sleep by bruises and crescent-moon indentations of fingernails. “Aegon? I’m really sorry, I know it’s late.”

He doesn’t have to open his eyes to know it’s you. “Fuck off,” he groans into his pillow.

“Aemond’s back from Storm’s End, but something’s wrong. He wants you to meet him in the council chamber.”

Aegon looks up and blinks drowsily. Moonlight spills into the room through gaps in the curtains. He smells strange, like lavender; that must be from his companion. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“He didn’t tell you?”

You shake your head.

Now Aegon is alarmed. The dark, cloudy blue of his irises is rapidly clearing. “Alright. Give me five minutes.”

“Wash the girl’s perfume off you so Mother isn’t quite so disappointed.”

Aegon chuckles, rubbing his eyes; something about the way he does this reminds you of Maelor. They are both just boys; they are both so incendiary and yet so vulnerable. “Get out, whore.”

You tousle his hair roughly, smack a kiss onto his sweat-salted temple as he tries to shove you away, snicker as he hurls pillows at you. You are slipping through the doorway when you hear the woman in bed mumble: “Huh? What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Aegon says. “Thank you very much for your company, your skills were more than adequate, now kindly find your way home…”

You hurry down the hall to Mother’s chambers. There are seven-pointed stars on the walls and the furniture, green tapestries everywhere. She will always be a Hightower, averse to Valyrian oddities and suspicious of that sinister, ancient magic. She does not understand it; she tries to overlook it in her children. It’s the only way she knows how to love them. You sit beside the indistinct shape beneath the blankets, sinking into the goose feather mattress, and nudge what you guess is her shoulder. “Mother?”

She stirs, and then her face fills with concern when she sees you in the dim light from her candles. “What’s happened, darling? Are you ill?” You are prone to headaches and chills and nausea, you always have been, maladies of the flesh that are either a blood inheritance or a curse from bad stars. Once when you were very young, Aemond pushed you into a cold stream during a royal progress to the Vale, and you had been laughing when Criston leapt in and dragged you from the water; but two days later, you began burning up with a fever so hot they thought you might die. Aemond had slept on the floor beside your bed, and when you shivered so violently your bones ached he climbed in beside you and held you until you could sleep again; and later when his eye was cut out on Driftmark and he was half-mad with pain, you did the same for him.

“No, Mother, I’m fine. It’s Aemond.”

She sits up and studies you. “Aemond?”

“He’s back from Storm’s End, and he wants to talk to you.”

“To me?”

“And Criston and Aegon, and Grandsire too.”

She doesn’t understand. “Now? Why? What’s wrong?”

“I have no idea.”

“What did he say?”

Everyone expects you to already know, but you don’t. “I think he wants to tell all of us at the same time. In the small council chamber.”

“Now?” she says again, puzzled, still half-asleep. “What is so important that it can’t wait until morning?”

“Mother, there are only so many ways for me to express that I don’t know. If I had any indications at all, I’d share them.”

“Alright.” She’s smiling; you have amused her. She throws off the covers and touches her bare feet to the floor. “Pass me my robe. It’s on that chair over there.” And of course, the swath of velvet you hand her to wear over her nightgown is a deep emerald green: the color of fertile fields, not blood or beasts.

By the time you and Mother arrive together, everyone else is already taking their places in the council chamber. Aegon is at the head of the table, spinning his stone—a black sphere of volcanic glass—and peering around boredly. Grandsire and Criston are greeting Mother and yawning into the backs of their hands. No one has woken Helaena, and yet she is here, settling nimbly into the chair beside Aegon. He gives her a brief, fond glance, noting that she is fidgeting with a small oak dragonfly he once made for her. Aegon carves wood, Helaena embroiders, you shatter seashells with tiny hammers and use the shards to make mosaics, miniscule yet unladylike violence. Aemond has books and swords in place of crafts. And Daeron…you assume he must have cultivated some artistic talents while away in Oldtown—he was always so imaginative as a boy—but you would not know them. You see him so rarely now. You sit across the table from Aemond. He is the only attendee not dressed in nightclothes. His black leather tunic is still layered with a sheen of rain.

Grandsire lowers himself gingerly into his seat, grinding arthritic bones that pain him. The nights have grown chilly, even here in the south. Winter is coming, the maesters warn. His gaze passes over you and Helaena—the two of you aren’t really supposed to be here, but you’ll be permitted to stay if you cause no trouble—then he smirks humorlessly at Aemond. “So you failed.”

“No,” Aemond says, and you think as you look around the table: No Orwyle, no Lannister, no Wylde, not even Larys Strong. What does Aemond not want them to know? “Lord Baratheon has agreed to marry his youngest daughter to Daeron in one year’s time. He was very enthusiastic about the match.”

“Great!” Aegon declares. “Although, personally, I am of the inexpert opinion that this could have been discussed over bacon and honeycakes at breakfast…”

Grandsire snorts, derisive; he disapproves, though perhaps he is not surprised. He says to Aemond: “You were sent to negotiate your own marriage, not Daeron’s.”

Aemond shrugs, as if it happened by coincidence. “That was Borros Baratheon’s preference.”

“It was your preference, you mean.”

Aemond is careful not to reveal any emotion. “Daeron is young, but he already has a reputation. He is known to be handsome and chivalrous and…” A wave of the hand as he searches for the right word. “Unmutilated. It is not so difficult to imagine why a father would believe him to be a more worthy son-in-law.”

“It doesn’t matter to me, one Targaryen is as good as the next,” Aegon says, and of course nobody pays much attention.

“Perhaps Borros Baratheon’s judgment has been contaminated by certain disturbing and disgraceful rumors,” Grandsire counters and glares at you. You don’t reply; there’s nothing you can say that would help. Everyone knows, but it rarely spoken of aloud, as if it is a ghost nobody wants to inadvertently conjure. All your life there has been this perpetual rebalancing of scales: someone mentions a diplomatic match for you, you stall and Aemond makes excuses, Grandsire and Mother try to convince him, Aemond is immoveable and they aren’t willing to invoke his wrath. Vhagar is the subtext of every dispute. They need her, they are terrified of her.

Criston attempts to deescalate. “Aemond’s task was to ensure the Baratheons’ loyalty to the crown, and he has accomplished that. Perhaps it would be wise to move on.”

“Fine, what else?” Grandsire snaps. “You assembled us here for some reason, I presume. It must be urgent to merit a meeting now. It better be urgent, or I’ll be paying people to shake you awake during the hour of the wolf for the next month.”

“It is urgent,” Aemond says softly, then pauses, gazing down at the ball in front of him, white quartz dappled with blue. Everyone watches him. You share a glance with Aegon; he is curious, but you have nothing to offer him. You turn back to Aemond with bewilderment in your face, furrows in your brow.

“Aemond?” Mother prompts.

He looks at you, only for a second, but you’re thunderstruck by what you see in his remaining eye. You have rarely known Aemond to be afraid, but he is right now. What happened? you think, horror making the blood in your veins cold and slow and heavy. What did he do?

Aemond begins: “Luke Strong was at Storm’s End too.”

“What?” Grandsire says, more baffled than worried. “That runt? Why?”

“He’s a weasel,” Aegon mutters, spinning his ball again.

“Rhaenyra’s son?” Mother asks. “She sent him there all alone? How peculiar. The way she was always hovering over him while they were here, I’m amazed she let him out of her sight for that long. How old is he now? With that plain, ever-anxious, pug-nosed face, he looks like a little boy—”

Aemond says: “He was sent to remind Borros of his old pledge to uphold Rhaenyra’s claim. But Luke had no incentives to offer.”

“And so Lord Baratheon rejected him,” Grandsire surmises.

Aemond nods, though perhaps halfheartedly.

“Well, good,” Grandsire says, surveying the table for agreement. “That’s good, right? With every house that refuses to aid her, Rhaenyra will be more likely to accept our terms, and we can resolve this question of succession without any bloodshed.”

“Meleys and the Dragonpit,” Aegon reminds him.

“Without further bloodshed,” Grandsire amends.

Mother and Criston concur, but you’re watching Aemond. He hasn’t responded yet. Mother’s gaze flits between the two of you. She is somewhat sympathetic to the affinity you share, but she doesn’t understand it. More than anything, you get the sense she believes it is something you must be saved from. The Hightowers could stomach Aegon and Helaena’s match—Viserys was still healthy enough to insist upon it, and the couple so seemingly platonic it was easy to forget they were married at all—but they have no appetite for a desire that defies political expediency, that burns scorching and wild.

“Aemond, did you quarrel with Luke?” Mother says, her tone patient in an I-won’t-be-mad-if-you-just-tell-me-the-truth sort of way. “I know…your eye…” She touches her own face, wincing at the memory of how he suffered. “Did you seek restitution of some sort from him? Did you make accusations?”

“We…exchanged some words,” Aemond admits. “And then…when Luke left on Arrax…” There is a lull, and everyone stares at him. “Vhagar and I followed.”

“What?!” Grandsire exclaims. “You threatened Rhaenyra’s son?!”

“I…” Aemond closes his eye, then after a moment opens it again and continues. “It was my intention to frighten him, that was all.”

“Idiot,” Grandsire hisses. “You know better. You’re too well-educated to act like you don’t. Now, that one…” He jabs an accusatory finger at Aegon, who is caught off-guard, what the fuck do I have to do with this?

Criston says, more gently: “That was very dangerous, Aemond.” Mother covers her mouth with one hand and shakes her head. Her long coppery hair hangs in uncombed waves, still tangled from sleep.

“So what happened?” Aegon asks. “Where’d you chase him to? All the way back to Dragonstone? You must have scared him to death.”

Aemond chooses his words with great care and agonizing slowness. “Everything was under control. Then Arrax…he unleashed his flames on Vhagar, and she…she attacked.”

Everyone is silent. After a moment, Grandsire says: “What do you mean she attacked?”

“She…” Aemond gestures vaguely with open hands, hands that have held you, caged you, dragged you, pleased you until you were forged to him like a blade to a hilt. Again, he looks at you, and what is he asking for? Help, empathy, compassion, forgiveness? “She bit Arrax.”

“She wounded him?” Aegon says.

“She devoured him.”

Criston blinks. “So…Arrax is dead, and where is Luke now?”

Aemond laces his fingers together on the table like he’s praying. “He’s…he’s gone.”

“Gone?” Mother echoes.

“Did you look for him?” Grandsire demands. “I mean, did you even bother to search for Luke, or did you just leave him in the Stormlands somewhere? Did he fall into the sea, could he be wandering around in a forest? If Luke is injured, we should send out people to find him. We could hold him as a hostage.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Aemond’s voice is frayed. And now for the first time tonight, you finally know what he’s going to say. Your eyes snag on Aegon’s, and he reads the terror there, and then it hits him too. “There is nothing to search for.”

Mother is gaping at him, the unwanted knowledge seeping in like rain through earth. “Nothing?”

“There is no body. Pieces, perhaps.”

Unspeakable, suffocating dread fills the room, and then Grandsire leaps to his feet and slams his fists down on the table. “Useless!” he roars at Aemond. “Worse than useless, a saboteur, a curse, a plague, you have ruined everything your Mother and I worked for, Rhaenyra was considering our terms and now you’ve condemned us all!”

“You killed Lucerys Velaryon?” Mother says, stunned. Her large dark eyes glisten with unpardonable betrayal. She’ll never look at him the same way again. “You murdered Rhaenyra’s son? A prince, the heir to Driftmark?”

“It wasn’t murder,” Aemond pleads. “It was…it was combat, it was a battle—”

“A battle with that child?!” Grandsire thunders. Helaena begins to cry, and Aegon places a hand on her wrist as his wide eyes dart around the table. “Everyone’s seen him, it’s no secret, and not a single person in the realm would be delusional enough to believe a clash between Vhagar and Arrax was anything but a slaughter!”

“Aemond,” Criston says quietly, appalled, astonished.

Aemond can’t meet his eyes. He peers down at the table, and despite everything—what will happen to us, what will happen to me?—there is an ache in your chest like cracked ribs trying to heal, a profound lightless distress, a ricochet of the pain he’s feeling. “It wasn’t my intention to harm Luke.”

Grandsire shouts: “Did you give Vhagar the order or not?!”

It feels like a long time before Aemond answers. “No.”

“Oh gods,” Criston says as he sinks down in his chair, turning to Alicent. She has hidden her face with both hands and seems to be weeping.

“So you can’t control Vhagar,” Grandsire seethes. “You ride the largest and most dangerous dragon in the world and you can’t stop her from eating people.”

“I never would have purposefully—”

“But you created the situation! You pursued Luke, you tormented him, and surely somewhere in your sick brain you considered that you were endangering his life! And now… now…now Rhaenyra will be merciless, she will never submit, she will endeavor to destroy us all!”

“It will bring more allies to her side,” Criston says. “They will believe she was wronged, and she will wield that weapon to great advantage. She is cunning.”

“What about your family, Aemond?!” Mother sobs, her face a hectic, bloody pink. “You and your brothers will have to go to war, you might be maimed or butchered, and your sisters and I…we could be taken as prisoners, we could be executed for treason!”

“That will never happen,” he swears; but his pale blue eye is misty, and he bites his lips together so they won’t tremble.

Mother is desperate, tears streaming down her cheeks “What can we do, Father? How can we salvage this?”

Grandsire points to you. “She must be wed immediately. We’ve already waited too long.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Aegon says, but no one is listening.

“Mother,” you beg. “Please don’t let them—”

“She will be married to whoever can help us in this,” Grandsire says. “The Lannisters or the Redwynes or the Swanns, perhaps the Butterwells or the Mootons if that will coax them to our side—”

“Then the realm will burn,” Aemond replies darkly, leaning over the table. “But I’ll come knocking on your door first, Grandsire.”

Grandsire looks at him, startled. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Shall we find out?”

“Otto, please,” Criston says, holding up a palm. Then he considers how to dissuade him. “All things considered—the military strength that Aemond has brought to our side, the devotion that he has shown this family, present circumstances notwithstanding—he has never asked for much.”

“He asks for the one thing we cannot give him,” Grandsire replies, then turns to you. “What do you think about what Aemond has done? This recklessness, this monstrous error?”

He rarely asks for your opinion about anything. This is not a question but a summons: you are supposed to disavow Aemond. You are the one who can hurt him best. Instead you say, though it’s not what you truly feel: “Luke was an enemy. He perished in combat.”

Grandsire, Mother, and Criston all begin yelling at once. Helaena shrinks into herself, her dragonfly made of oak wood clutched to her chest. Aegon whispers something to her—you can leave, you believe he says—but she shakes her head no. You are stoic as the adults berate and implore you, and perhaps it’s strange that you still think of them that way since you’re an adult now too, and yet…their gravity seems so much heavier than yours, their tethers to the earth overgrown with weeds and moss.

“I’ll gut you myself!” Grandsire screams at Aemond, empty threats woven from helpless terror. “I’ll lock you in the Black Cells, I’ll have you banished to Dorne—!”

“I’ll throw a feast!” Aegon says suddenly, and the others go quiet.

“You’ll what?” Grandsire snarls.

“Little Luke Strong is dead and that’s a victory for our side. There’s no other way to look at it.”

“You intend to celebrate this calamity?”

“What else should we do?” Aegon asks. “Apologize? Go crawling on our bellies to Rhaenyra for forgiveness? No, she’d burn us alive. If it’s done, we must embrace it and use it to bolster our cause as much as possible. It was a battle and a victory. Aemond is a war hero. Onto the next objective.”

“What a disaster,” Criston mutters, rubbing his forehead. “Yes, that might be the only option we have.”

Mother clasps the small seven-pointed star that hangs from the gold chain at her throat. “I must go to the sept. I must pray for our survival.”

Grandsire glowers at Aegon. “You are a humiliation.”

“I am the king. I want a feast.”

Grandsire sighs deeply, pushing his chair away from the table. “I suppose I have letters to write.” And then, to Aemond: “When your sisters are captured and enslaved and married off to whichever Black loyalists will pay Rhaenyra and Daemon the most for them, I trust you’ll remember who’s responsible.”

Aemond gets up and storms out of the small council chamber. Mother mops the tears off her face with the sleeves of her green robe. Criston takes one of her hands and is murmuring promises, assurances, perhaps lies. You, Aegon, and Helaena say nothing. None of you can defend what Aemond has done, but you won’t denounce him either.

Then Grandsire grins at you, a cruel bestial flash of his teeth, an old grizzled animal tough from too many winters, icy wind shrieking through the chambers of its heart. “Oh, are you pretending that you’re not about to run after him?”

You don’t reply. But you rise from the table and flee as Mother watches you, her vast eyes swimming with misery.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s a game with five pieces: the green snake, the yellow butterfly, the blue wolf, the red bat, and the purple shadowcat. They chase each other around the board, and if one of the other pieces lands on the same spot as yours then you have to go all the way back to the start.

Daeron is the youngest, but he almost always seems to win; some people are like that, luck flows like a river in their veins. Helaena enjoys playing even if she finished last. Aegon feigns disinterest but never declines an invitation, sliding his snake across the spaces with his index finger between slurps of wine. And sometimes Aemond is ruthless, taking every single opportunity to land on your spot and send your bat hurtling back to the beginning, sawing your legs out from under you, shattering your hopes like glass again and again until you are so frustrated you can feel embers glowing dry and searing in your throat.

But other times, Aemond pretends to misread the dots on the dice so he lands either too close or too far away and you are spared, and if you win he lies and says you deserve it.

~~~~~~~~~~

He is waiting at your bedroom door; when you are close enough to breathe him in, you taste rain and soot. Perhaps—if it isn’t your imagination—you can even detect the coppery tinge of blood, splatters of little Luke Strong soaked into the black leather of his tunic or his coat. You remember that boy you barely knew, more a phantom than flesh, a wraith who stole Aemond’s eye and then was spirited away to Dragonstone to escape retribution, a tiny god who Viserys worshipped from afar the same way he never stopped loving Rhaenyra. All you knew of your father was absence, and this was a sadness but a relief as well, because you could not escape the sense that if he was there you would only disappoint him.

“What is wrong with you?!” you whisper savagely. Aemond smiles and reaches for your face, but you swat his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me. You’re insane, you’re going to get us all killed—”

He drags you into your bedchamber, kicking the door shut behind him. He’s lean but wiry, all muscle, and when you fight him—although you both know you want him to win—it is in vain. He tugs your hair out of its braid and hauls you across the room, pushes you down on the bed, rips off his coat and tunic and then follows you onto the mattress. You clamber away until you hit the headboard, your spine flat against the wood. As he closes in on you, your palm cracks across the blind side of Aemond’s face, and he grins. You have often thought that it should have been reversed, you wed to Aegon and Aemond to Helaena. You would not be so scandalized by Aegon’s vices; Aemond would be chivalrous with a meek, compliant wife. But alas, Helaena was born first, and the arrangement was set in stone long before any of your natures became apparent.

Aemond unfastens your robe and reaches under your nightgown of white cotton. “Open your legs.”

“No.” It is always this way with him; it always has been. You fight and he vanquishes, and both of you enjoy it.

He forces your thighs apart and you moan, the resistance bleeding out of you, you muscles going soft and yielding, Aemond radiant with this clandestine conquest on a night when nothing else is under his control. He can only love you when you’re tamed and tractable. Sometimes you think he likes that you don’t have a dragon, that your egg never hatched, that all of the unclaimed beasts denied you. You will always be vulnerable, powerless, at his mercy.

You cling to Aemond, your arms around his neck. He knows exactly what you need because you’ve already done this, more times than either of you could count: everything besides what could get you pregnant, and not just because Aemond would rather slit his own throat than have bastards like Rhaenyra’s. It’s something you’re both saving until at last you are married, and no one except The Stranger can separate you.

You gasp and Aemond growls through your hair: “Shh. Hurry up.”

“I missed you.”

“I know.” He doesn’t have to say it back; if he hadn’t missed you, he wouldn’t be here right now, two fingers buried to the knuckles and the heel of his hand grinding against you, almost, almost, almost…

The bedchamber door bangs opens, and Aegon saunters in with a goblet of wine, emeralds gleaming on the rim.

“Stop,” you tell Aemond, but he knows you don’t mean it, not really; beneath your nightgown his hand works faster, more roughly. You sigh and kiss him, deep and messy, surrendering, very close.

Aegon takes a swig of wine, licks the stray drops from his lips, and frowns down at you both, slightly intrigued but mostly nauseated. He cannot fathom a hunger for his own.

Aemond looks to him and says casually: “Do you want something?”

“I do, actually,” Aegon replies. “Were you planning to thank me?”

“Thank you for what?”

“For what I did for you in the council chamber, obviously. For the feast.”

“I’ll consider it.”

“Thank you, Aegon,” you say, and you are sincere.

Aegon raises his goblet in a mock toast. “That’s very kind, Red, but I wasn’t asking you.”

You whimper against Aemond’s throat, embarrassed but in ecstasy, not able to hold off much longer. “Aemond, just thank him.”

“Well I’m a bit preoccupied at the moment.”

“That’s okay,” Aegon says. “I can wait.” He sits at the end of the bed, then bounces up and down a few times. “Oh, this is a great mattress! Very soft, like sleeping on a cloud! Why isn’t mine this nice?”

“Probably because you’ve ejaculated all over it five thousand times,” Aemond says.

“Oh, right,” Aegon jests. “Not quite that frequently, I think.”

“Aemond,” you plead breathlessly. “Just say thank you. Get rid of him.”

Aemond sighs and, with his hand still beneath your nightgown, turns to Aegon. “Thank you.”

Aegon smirks, mischievous. “And how will you repay me?”

“By overcompensating for your shortcomings in order to ensure the enduring success of our family, as I have done since birth.”

“Of course,” Aegon says, though a bit distantly.

Aemond glances down at you and then asks his brother: “Were you hoping to join us?” It’s not a serious question; if Aegon ever tried to touch you with genuine desire, Aemond would break both his arms. Fortunately, Aegon is the closest thing you’ll ever have to a real brother, and thus his limbs are safe.

Aegon chuckles and stands. “No, this is a bit unsavory, even for my taste.” He gulps the last of his wine and says as he leaves: “Enjoy, freaks.”

“Bye, Aegon,” you call, laughing. He waves and then closes the door behind him.

Seconds later—twenty, thirty, time evaporates like mist burned away at dawn—Aemond is making you come, and then you are yanking off his trousers and taking him in your mouth, and when you do this he always has to be touching you, smoothing back your hair, telling you how well you’re doing, and even though he warns you so you can pull away if you choose to, tonight you swallow every last drop of him and think of the sea that Lucerys Velaryon’s scraps tumbled into, the mineral bite of salt and metal and blood.

But when he finishes, Aemond doesn’t collapse like a dead man as he usually does. He throws you onto your back, licks and nuzzles his way down your breasts and belly, parts your legs and murmurs against the inside of your thigh before he begins again: “I want you, I want you, I want you, I can’t wait much longer.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s one of your earliest memories. You are in the garden, and it’s a blazing hot day, and a million varieties of blooms cut through the greenery: goldenrods, orchids, lilies, irises, daisies, bellflowers, red roses, blue forget-me-nots. Butterflies whirl in the air and land on Helaena’s outstretched fingertips. Grandsire is slapping Aegon and calling him an imbecile for trying to pet a bumblebee, and Aegon is wailing: But it’s fuzzy! Why can’t I hold it?!

You must not be very steady on your feet yet, because Aemond is pulling you up by both of your hands and asking: If I ran, do you think you could catch me?

Yes, you had said, and then you’d staggered after him as he darted into the foliage. Under the shade of blossoms and shrubs that towered so much taller than you, you tripped and fell and scraped your palms, one of them bleeding from striking a pebble. You cried out, but no one was there to pick you up: no Mother, no Criston, no Helaena or Aegon. You wept pitifully, thinking—as children do—that you would be lost forever, that you would never see your family again.

But Aemond came back for you, and he studied your bloodied palm, carefully plucking out every grain of brown soil; and then he kissed it, held it against his cheek, painted himself with the scarlet ink of your arteries and veins.

See? he had said, smiling so you knew everything would be okay. Now we’re both red.

~~~~~~~~~~

“How are the babies?” Aemond asks when he arrives, dressed for the feast in a green tunic embroidered with shimmering gold threads in the shapes of dragons, flying, shrieking, breathing fire. Helaena made it for him, of course. Each of you have wardrobes full of garments she’s sewn, a collection of Aegon’s woodcarvings scattered around your rooms, seashell mosaics hanging from walls: insects for Helaena, Sunfyre for Aegon, heroes from myths for Aemond.

You grin over your shoulder. “Come see them.”

It’s dusk now, so they are leaving the roost you keep in one corner of your bedchamber, covered with dark velvet to blot out light and sound as they slumber. Aemond kneels beside you and holds out his hand so River can scurry from your palm into his, clawing with his hooklike appendages. All of your bats are named after blue things—Blueberry, Sailfish, Clear Sky, Blue Jay, Misty, Dragonfly, Lagoon, Lightning, Kingfisher—just as Aemond’s hawks and war horses are given names like Fox and Rusty and Cherry and Pomegranate. He is the only one who defends your pets when Mother threatens to banish them back to the Godswood or the seaside cliffs. You have no dragon; you must find solace with some other creature that inspires dread and revulsion. But you think they’re beautiful, and strange, and fearless, and wrongly unloved.

“Let’s move things along,” Aegon says as he appears in the doorway, wearing all green except for the Conqueror’s crown. “No one can dig into the roast boar until the guest of honor enters the Great Hall. So I need Aemond to show up immediately.”

“Almost ready,” Aemond replies without looking away from River, who is now scrambling up his forearm. Lighting takes flight and attempts to land on Aegon’s shoulder; Aegon yelps and flings him away.

“No, you can’t!” you say, rushing across the room to scoop up Lightning and cradle him in your arms. Fortunately, he is unharmed. “I told you, Aegon. They have tiny bones, you have to be gentle or you’ll hurt them.”

Aegon shudders. “They’re fucking disgusting. Rats with wings.”

Aemond sets River on the windowsill, goes to his brother, shoves him hard; Aegon’s back hits the wall. His crown is knocked from his head and clatters against the floor.

“I’m not apologizing,” Aegon insists. “I’m a victim of grave injustice. I was attacked. That thing could have bitten me.”

You say to Aemond in High Valyrian: “Should we do this for a while to annoy him?”

Aemond smiles. “Yes. We should talk a lot. A great amount, we should talk. Very much talking.”

“Hey, hey, stop that,” Aegon says.

“Aemond, what else will they serve besides boar?”

“I heard something about pies.”

“What kinds of pies?”

“Who knows. Maybe apple, or cherry, or plum…”

“Oh, I adore apple pies. Perfect for autumn. I could eat them all day.”

“I could eat you all day.”

“Don’t tease me, or we’ll never make it to the feast.”

Aegon is distressed. “I mean it! Stop!”

“They aren’t saying anything important,” Helaena assures him as she swishes into your bedchamber wearing a butter yellow gown. In her hair are gold pins shaped like ladybugs.

“Okay, but what are they talking about?”

Helaena says matter-of-factly: “Sex and pastries.”

Aegon groans and rolls his eyes. “Why did I ask. Okay, time to go.”

You walk together to the Great Hall, where Helaena and Jaehaera and Grandsire will dance in the center of the floor, and you and Aemond will whisper in shadowy corners, and Mother will peer around worriedly with her large watery eyes as Criston yearns to console her, and Aegon will smile patiently and never scold Jaehaerys when he gets underfoot or spills his pomegranate juice.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s another game, or maybe it’s a ritual; you are a little girl again, and every once in a while, without any warning, Aemond will shove you into a closet or a heavy wooden trunk and lock you inside. You will scream and pound on the door, but no one will hear, and you will spend what feels like hours alone in the darkness, wondering if this will be the time when you are not discovered until you have died of thirst and hunger, until there is nothing left but bones.

Then you hear approaching footsteps and Aemond lets you out, and when you strike and scratch at him he embraces you fiercely, like he’s a soldier who’s been away for a year or more; and he holds you until you stop fighting it and your heartbeat goes quiet in your chest.

[earlysunshines]

in a moment you and i

kim minji x fem!reader ; angst, fluff

synopsis: minji has two side hustles, one of them is swinging around the city and saving people and the other is admiring you from afar. little does she know, you’re also admiring her -- not that you're aware of it.

warnings: minji is spiderwoman!! and really just a nerd under that suit ; a very pretty, oblivious, adorable nerd ; blood and violence ; pining, slowburn kinda ; ending is a lil rushed and pacing is wack imo (sooory) ; wtv else i didn’t mention

a/n: i think its funny how she's mj (minji) but spiderwoman in this anyways I kekeke lmao lol ijbol thinking ab her in those fuckass (adorable beautiful amazing lovely cute) black frames,,,

kim minji might just be one of the smartest students in her class — she’s also the sleepiest one these days.

she is two seconds away from falling asleep in class because some people can’t seem to go a second without breaking the law, and the only web-slinging person who can stop them is her.

why would anyone break into ador labs at two in the morning on a weekday? because of this, minji had to spring out of bed in the dead of night, battling a gang of thieves for nearly two exhausting hours. by the time she had webbed them to the wall, called the police, and swung back home, she only had three hours before she had to be up again.

she even got pestered by hanni for taking so long while she waited outside the house. the younger girl had to wait a few extra minutes because minji had woken up late, it’s not like she wanted to lose a few hours of sleep. when she explained to hanni why she had applied concealer on the walk to school (hanni had been the first to know about everything going on with her and why her hands were sticking to everything the day after her little spider incident), the younger girl nodded and relented.

minji’s eyelids grow heavier with each blink, and soon enough they don’t open again as she falls asleep on her palm. minji’s already caught up with this unit, it won’t hurt to sleep a bit anyway – just a few minutes.

a few minutes fades into twenty and her head falls to her forearm in the middle of her nap.

“right, that wraps up class for today everyone. chapter thirteen is your homework, we’ll have a small quiz next class on it.” mr. lee says right as the bell rings. he looks over to minji, sighing as everyone starts to pack their bags. “and someone please wake up minji.”

no one seems to hear him, no one but you.

you catch minji near the window in the second row from the front. her hair falls over her face and only her nose pokes out, but you can see a little bit of her eye from where you’re standing. the empty seat hints that danielle isn’t here today, usually she’d be the one to wake minji up.

“hey, i’ll catch up with you later, okay?” you say to jungwon, who smiles and nods before rushing out the class. 

mr. lee doesn’t seem to notice minji, too absorbed in something on his laptop and the papers scattered across his desk. you walk over and tap her once—no response. you try again, with the same result. finally, you lightly grip her shoulder and give her a gentle shake to wake her up.

"huh, what? danielle?" minji mumbles, sitting up and blinking slowly. she turns over, eyes still closed, and fixes her hair. when she finally opens her eyes again, she’s surprised to see you. her eyes widen slightly, and she feels a surge of nervousness. "oh, y/n."

“morning!” you grin, then point to the papers and folder on her desk. “you need help with those? the bell just rang.”

“did it?”

“yeah, a minute ago.”

minji sighs, fixing the black glasses she has on her face. you look at her, still, with a smile on your face and raised brows. 

“i don’t need help, you should get to class.”

“you sure? please, i insist.”

“i–” minji wonders if she’s still dreaming, the l/n y/n is offering her help and smiling at her – kim minji. 

ever since you two were first paired for a small project in eighth-grade science, she’s always felt giddy near you. in minji’s mind, you’re some angel from heaven. she has you on an imaginary pedestal that towers above the tallest buildings in the city. you’re on the tennis team, you volunteer, you’re smart, you’re in student government, and you’re so gorgeous that minji can’t think straight around you. 

unfortunately for her, half the school feels the same way, making you an unattainable fantasy. still, minji admires you from afar, blushing at the mere mention of your name and gushing about you to her friends, who never miss an opportunity to tease her about her obvious crush.

“um, yeah, thanks.” minji mutters, gulping as you begin to put her papers in a stack and place them in her folder neatly.

“danielle isn’t here today, is that right?”

“u-um, no.”

“aw, that’s a shame.”

minji tries her best to stay sane in your presence, putting all her attention on the psychology textbook that she’s shoving in her bag. “mhm.” 

you hand minji her blue folder adorned with various stickers she’s collected and she takes it nervously. you smile one more time, placing a hand on her shoulder and she think she might blow up. 

“you should get more sleep.”

“yeah, definitely.” 

“i’ll see you around, bye minji.” you wave your hand and turn to leave, minji’s lips part as she stays stuck in place, trying to regain her composure.

–

“dude, you have like– three classes with her. are you ever going to make a move or…?” 

hanni’s voice is small and faint as she looks at you from across the lobby. the bell has just rung, and everyone is free to leave, but hanni and minji always wait for their two underclassmen they’ve basically adopted to hang out after school.

“hm?”

the younger girl groans, “c’mon, we’re seniors! just stop thinking and go do something! you’ve liked her for years.”

“she’s probably not even gay! she’s always with jungwon…”

“they look like friends to me.” hanni crosses her arms and looks over at you. you’re in a little group with jimin, ningning, and wonyoung, conversing with them and giggling here and there. “she’s not even with jungwon right now.”

“that’s– oh my god, be real.” minji sighs, then turns away to look at hanni dead in the eye. “i unironically take pictures for the yearbook and am in the book club. i don’t know, i’m not eye catching or known or fucking drool worthy.”

“girl, change that then!”

hyein and haerin walk over to the upperclassmen to see them bickering again. hyein butts in, stepping into minji’s personal space. “what’s the argument this time?”

“minji’s lovergirl.”

“ahhh, i’ll pay you ten dollars if you ask her out.”

“i’m not taking your money hyein.” minji pinches the bridge of her nose, then starts to trudge away. “let’s go, it doesn’t matter. i’m hungry and i have less than an hour before i need to start editing the layout for the yearbook.”

the group starts to walk out the entrance, but not before minji gets teased and grilled again. little does minji know, you’re glancing at her the whole time. your eyes follow her as she rolls her eyes and playfully punches hanni in the shoulder. for some reason, the corners of your lips turn up in a smile.

–

a few days later, minji finds herself battling an idiot who decided to scale the side of the ador building. civilians are screaming, and some are injured, but minji swiftly moves them to safety. 

the culprits wield various weapons, forcing minji to dodge bricks left and right. pieces of debris fly at her, nearly hitting her limbs, and she ends up with a small cut on her cheekbone. 

she manages to fend off two of the three culprits, webbing them against a broken wall while dealing with the last one. this guy has good aim and manages to throw a huge piece of the building at her leg, making her wince in pain.

shit, that’s going to bruise. 

minji grunts as she catches the piece of the building that had hit her – mid air with her web – and flings it back at the man, hitting him right in the torso and knocking him out. 

she slings her web toward the building and leaps, sticking herself to the wall. she takes a few moments to recover, pressing a finger to her face and feeling the blood trickle from the small cut. minji sighs, wiping her face before webbing the criminals together in a way that will make the police's job easier.

(even if they’re not very fond with spiderwoman.)

minji has a sharp sense of awareness; her reflexes and attention to the smallest details give her a kind of sixth sense. still, she doesn’t notice you observing the whole scene from afar.

you had been in the building next door for tennis practice but immediately stopped when you heard the commotion. seeing the vigilante in blue made your jaw drop and your eyes shine with admiration. the way spiderwoman handled the situation left you more than just amazed. you found it incredibly intriguing how she could swing around and fight so fluidly.

“woah.” you say in awe, eyes following spiderwoman as she swings away.

“you’re obsessed with her,” jungwon sighs, “but holy shit that was crazy.”

“she’s so cool.”

“doesn’t your dad… hate her?” he questions, making you bite your lip.

your dad was one of the higher-ranking officers in the police force, so everything spiderwoman did reached you through him—just in a more negative light. he’d complain about the “messes” and “damage” she left behind, and you had to hold yourself back from defending her. you found spiderwoman endearing, considering she put her life on the line and was probably a normal person with responsibilities and things to do, yet she took the time to protect others.

of course, your father had the same goals: protecting the city, safeguarding the people, and creating a safer community. he did his best to achieve this, often catching criminals with his impressive skills, but his idea of fighting crime never really aligned with spiderwoman’s methods. you seemed to favor spiderwoman’s actions a little more, considering you’d put much more threatening people down and your dad was always holding some grudge. he’s just too stubborn to understand, really.

“it’s whatever, i mean, can he do that?”

“okay but he’s a cop y/n. spiderwoman is literally some unknown person with powers that could harm others if she decides to go rogue.”

“why do you always think about the bad?” you groan, then return to the court. you grab a tennis ball, bouncing it up and down before catching it. “she’s doing a lot, all she’s done is help the cops ever since she’s been public to the eye. it’s not her fault journalists are trying to shame her. you sound like my dad… gross.”

jungwon scoffs amusingly, “if your dad knew how you really felt… i’d love to watch that unfold.”

“shut up, why are you invested in my dad’s beef with spiderwoman and not getting a boyfriend.”

“and when are you going to stop fangirling over a masked woman that can shoot webs out her wrist.”

you throw the tennis ball in your hand up, then swing aggressively, catching jungwon off guard and making him jump to the side. he looks at you with a confused expression, you simply shake your head.

“let a girl do what she wants.”

-

minji shows up to school sore and there’s a bandage on her cheek from the night before. she groans as she sits next to hanni in their english class, leaning against her for support.

“dude, what the hell is up with you.”

“a piece of building and fighting for half an hour that’s what.”

“oh.” hanni hums, “sorry to hear.” 

“it’s your fault.”

“hey!” hanni frowns.

hanni is one to experiment, and a month ago her victim had been a spider. she had tested various methods of enhancing the spiders abilities and modifying its dna to create an adhesive for the science fair, and unfortunately for minji, the spider had escaped and bit her. minji simply wanted to find a few beakers for her own experiment, the last thing she expected was a spider biting her hand and the next day she didn’t need glasses, her body was toned, she could lift her bed up with a hand — and the worst surprise was her fingers were sticking to everything she picked up.

“well, if you had been more careful…”

“don’t turn this around.” minji sighs, closing her eyes and trying to rest a bit.

her eyes are still closed when she hears a familiar voice that makes her heart flutter, opening them when you start to converse with wonyoung.

“my mom works at ador, i can’t believe spiderwoman had saved her…” wonyoung says.

“really? she did?” you look at her, itching for more details.

“yeah, she almost fell to the ground and spiderwoman saved her.” she repeats.

“wow… im glad she’s okay! oh my gosh, your mom is so lucky, im glad spiderwoman was there.”

minji turns to look at you, fighting back a smile. she is?

“i’d love to be saved by spiderwoman, she seems so cool… like, imagine willingly saving people and whatnot. she must be such great person, right?”

you watch wonyoung shrug, then sit down at her desk. you sit down next to her and she starts to take her folder out her bag before adding, “i mean, probably. she saved my mom, she’s a hero in my eyes.”

“she’s so cool…” you sigh dreamily, minji can’t believe it. “the way she fights is like, oh my god, so sick. i can’t believe she’s real, she’s out of this world.”

you, y/n, are talking highly of spiderwoman. that basically means you’re gushing about her, right? minji blinks three times, fully waking up after the third, and smiles to herself. 

wonyoung snickers, “sounds like you have a crush on spiderwoman.”

“stop that! she’s just… ugh.” you roll your eyes and nudge wonyoung. “she’s so admirable, i wish more people would see her as a hero, you know? she’s only done good so far, all the damage and stuff like that only happened because of the people she fought.”

minji might die – her heart feels like it's about to burst. you're on the same wavelength as her, defending spiderwoman, and you admire her too. the way you smile while talking about her alter ego makes minji feel giddy inside. hanni notices, rolls her eyes, and sets her head down on the desk, trying to catch a few extra minutes of sleep while minji revels in the feeling of being in love. hanni might barf.

wonyoung smiles at you, raising her brows. “you’re a fan.”

“maybe.” you admit, looking at the board in front of you. “she’s so cool, that’s all.”

–

minji’s sat outside in the courtyard looking through the pictures she had taken for the archery team. there’s a variety of shots that capture their activities, highlighting their form and bullseyes, and there are a few group pictures in the mix as well.

her eyes are squinting as she looks through them, so focused on the photos that she doesn’t notice someone calling her name.

"hey, minji," you call out, but she’s still hunched over, intently focused on her camera. you walk over, and she doesn’t notice you, too absorbed in adjusting the settings. gently, you grab the front of her cap and turn it around, making it sit backward on her head. startled, she looks up from the camera in her hand to see you. "hi," you greet again, a smile spreading across your lips.

minji’s cheeks flush. “hi, hey. did you need something?”

“yeah, i just wanted to ask a favor.” 

“oh, of course, what was it?”

you sit down next to her and she feels herself stiffen up. you smile at her and lean against the table behind you. “well, i was wondering if you could help take pictures for the tennis team? we have a practice and game coming up so i figured they’d be good on the yearbook. also, jungwon wanted to ask you to help him promote a fundraiser he wants to set up.”

“he did?”

you nod, “jungwon’s been planning this for a while, we’re trying to set it up and do a bake sale of some sort.”

“i’m down, but i’m booked for this week. a lot of people have been asking around, and my friends have priority, you know.”

a giggle slips from your lips and you point to her camera. “well, who wouldn’t ask you? you’re the best photographer here, last years yearbook was amazing because they switched heeseung out for you.”

“you think?”

“i know.”

minji stops for a second, it feels like she’s being squeezed and the way you look at her makes her heart beat a little faster. 

“t-thanks.” minji hates the small stutter in her response and the way she avoids your gaze. “i can um, arrange something next wednesday for the tennis team. for jungwon’s fundraiser maybe the same week, what was it for anyway?”

"we’re trying to raise money to support others in places that don’t have equal care for the lgbtq+ community!" you explain excitedly. minji freezes up again. we? no, maybe you're just an ally; minji can’t just assume. you're really sweet, kind, and a great person, but that doesn’t mean you're gay just because you want to help others.

“that’s wonderful.” 

“mhm, and especially with so many people getting hurt these days, it worries me how people in my own community deal with unequal healthcare, you know?”

minji tilts her head, then says, “wait, your community?”

you look at her with confusion all over you. “yeah! mine. minji, you know im… a lesbian, right?”

fireworks explode, people are cheering, and minji smiles before quickly suppressing it. "oh," she says, then pauses, realizing how flat her response sounds. she nearly drops her camera as she raises a hand in defense, shaking it and stuttering, "i-i mean, it's not a bad thing! obviously, i mean, i'm gay, er—i'm a lesbian too. i think it's great that you care so much about this. it's great. yeah, i'll prioritize the shoot for you."

she looks adorable, cheeks flushed and her glasses sliding down her nose. you push them up with your finger and minji clenches her jaw. 

“great.” you say softly, then narrow your eyes at her. “well, i have to get going for practice. thanks again, you’re the best minji.”

she nods and grips the camera in her hand a little tighter, watching you walk away, then turn around for a brief moment to add,

“you look really good with your hat like that, by the way.” the way it slips off your tongue, the way you smile once more and walk away, leaves minji feeling like she’s near cardiac arrest.

–

minji’s at a mall on a weekend, not to shop or hangout with her friends, but because people think it’s a good idea to try and commit crimes in broad daylight.

they’re not just normal, stupid shoplifters either; they’re far from it – near villains. the men she’s fighting have weapons, and they’re raiding various tech stores, causing chaos as people run around screaming. the scene is a mess, with extensive property damage, and minji wonders how it will ever get fixed.

she fights four men in the apple store, they chuck phones at her in hopes of slowing her down, but really, it’s just putting good phones to waste. she jumps up on the ceiling, catching them by surprise, and takes them down one by one from where she is. they’re not difficult to fight, minji had alrieady figured from the whole phone throwing part, so thankfully there’s isn’t a single scratch on her.

a few more stores are terrorized and minji manages to capture at least ten more culprits, webbing them together or sticking them to a wall for the police to find red-handed. she’s left with a few bruises by then, but nothing too brutal.

minji catches sight of two men in the corner of her eye running toward the metro stop that connects to the mall. she quickly follows, weaving past civilians and using her webs to launch herself ahead, closing the distance faster. she watches as the two men jump the entrance gate to the station. not only did they destroy a decent part of the mall, but they didn’t even bother to pay for the metro. they could’ve at least bought a day pass, she thinks wryly.

by the time she gets passed the entrance (she didn’t pay either, but in her case it’s to stop crime) and finds herself at a rough stop.

there are three metro lines: red, blue, and yellow – after getting down the stairs there are three directions that they could’ve gone, and minji doesn’t have time to check every place considering the metro comes and goes.

she’s stuck, the only thing she can do is pick one and pray that she’ll find them.

that’s what she thinks at least, until she hears a woman screaming for help in the direction of the red line. minji swings towards it almost immediately, using her enhanced agility and power to get there as fast as she can. 

when she reaches the platform, her eyes widen.

the two men hold you, your arms are restricted and you’re desperately trying to squirm out their grasp. minji immediately feels anger bubbling up inside of her, watching the way the men smile at her.

“let her go.” minji warns, stepping closer.

"how about you relax, spiderwoman? put your hands up, and the girl will be perfectly fine," one of the men sneers, pulling out a dagger and holding it against your neck. your head tilts up, desperately trying to avoid the blade, and your breath shakes as you freeze in place. "wouldn't want to hurt such a pretty little thing, hm? she is one of the captain's daughters, isn't that right?" the man adds, smiling at you disgustingly.

“fuck you.” you curse through gritted teeth. “ugly bitch.”

the man presses the flat side of the dagger against you, the frigid feeling of the material makes you gasp. 

you seemed to have been browsing around the mall, considering the casual outfit you have on, but now, you’re in danger. minji looks at you worried, unable to process much from just seeing you being held back like that. you look at her with upturned brows, scared out of your mind but also worrying just as much for spiderwoman.

minji sighs quickly, there’s others around as well, she can’t risk causing a scene in such a tight space with so much risk of making things worse. she puts her hands up slowly, you widen your eyes.

“fine, i won’t budge. just take that blade away from her, now.” minji says.

the man laughs, and so does his little partner in crime. “what, this blade?” he uses the dagger to tilt your head to the side to face him, then grins. “i wouldn’t do a thing to such a beauty.”

you fight back a retort, opting to shut yourself up for the time being. the man puts his hand down, taking away the blade from your throat.

“let her go.” minji orders, looking at you being held back. “she didn’t do anything.”

his partner snickers, then looks at you amusedly before looking back at minji. “you just stay there and we’ll see what happens to–”

before he can answer, you manage to kick him in the back of his knee, throwing him off balance and making him stumble. this gives you a quick opportunity to break free from one man's grip and swing your free hand at the other. you successfully land a blow on the man with the dagger, striking his jaw, but the impact hurts your knuckles, making you inhale sharply.

the men recover as you step away from them, eyeing you angrily.

“you little–”

before they can grab you again, you feel something sticking to your back. you’re being pulled backwards and feel an arm wraps around you. turning over, you see spiderwoman up close and in person. the eyes on her mask narrow as she looks at you, then asks, 

“are you okay?”

you gulp, then breathe hard. “yeah, yes.”

“good, stay put.” she says. 

you watch as she runs toward the man you had kicked, delivering a punch to his jaw and another to his stomach, making him fall back with a groan. he lays on the ground, clutching his belly, unable to get up after just two hits. the other man, now frightened, clutches his dagger. you watch as spider-woman slings a web at his chest, pulling him toward her, and then punches him right where you did.

you’re amazed, to say the least—until the man somehow manages to swing his dagger at spiderwoman’s upper forearm, leaving a deep cut. your eyes widen in horror as blood seeps out onto the floor.

she gasps in pain as the man attempts to swing at her shoulder, but she quickly throws him to the ground before he can and shoots a web at his hand, making the dagger fall in the process.

ignoring the pain for a moment, minji traps the men on the dirty platform floor by webbing their limbs to the ground. she kicks the man who had the dagger in the crotch for good measure. people cheer in amazement, applauding her efforts.

however, minji’s too distracted by the sharp pain from the cut, and that you’re watching.

she turns to see you appalled, walking over to look at her wound closer.

“you’re– spiderwoman, you’re hurt.”

“it’s not much,” she lies, shaking her head. “just a scratch.”

“no, no it’s not don’t lie to my face.” you grab her wrist without warning, and even though she’s spiderwoman at the moment – not kim minji, the girl who can barely make eye contact with you for more than five seconds – she’s momentarily distracted by the pain and blushing. “i– are you able to swing places?”

“um, i guess?” the confidence she’s built for this alter ego has completely washed away in your presence. “what are you–”

before she can finish, you fish for a handkerchief in your bag and tie it around the bleeding cut. minji doesn’t respond or say anything because a second later you’ve grabbed her hand and started running away from the red line platform. civillians watch, but none follow.

you turn to her for a split second as you speed through the corridors to ask, “do you know where hybe highschool is?”

“yes,” minji says breathily, “excuse me, y/–” she catches herself before exposing the fact that she knows you. “miss, what are you–”

“take me there, you can swing me, can’t you?”

the handkerchief does wonders, or maybe it’s just you. spiderwoman nods. “yeah, yes.”

in a rush of boldness, minji grabs your waist and holds onto you tight, shooting a web up at the ceiling to get the two of you up the big escalator in two seconds, then finds the nearest exit and has you two outside in no time.

“hold on tight, okay? it can be a little scary.”

“i like the thrill, it’s okay.” 

minji pauses, catching her breath. “you’re interesting,” she says, then shoots a web at the nearest building. she jumps up, swinging the two of you through the urban jungle, the city blurring around you as minji finds the quickest route to her school with you clinging onto her.

–

when the two of you reach the school, it’s closed and abandoned since it’s a saturday. why would anyone be on the campus during their off day? in this case, it’s because a pretty girl has led spiderwoman back for a reason she hasn’t even said yet.

minji needs to get a grip.

“follow me,” you say quickly, then grab her hand and run towards the south entrance where the main office and clinic are. ““if you’re ever hurt, just remember this.”

the doors aren’t open, but you pull out a keycard from under the mat that unlocks it. 

you lead her past the office and towards the clinic, which is empty. minji lets you sit her down – you’re too in your head to consider the fact that spiderwoman is sat down with no word uttered because she had simply let you do so – and watches you shuffle around the storage to find a first aid kit, cloth, a bucket, and a bottle of distilled water.

“what are you doing?”

“you have a really deep cut in your forearm, it’s not safe to just let it go.”

“i could’ve seen a doctor.”

you scoff, then sit down next to her. “they’d ring the police immediately, you know my dad is a captain? everyone there hates you.”

“oh.”

"yeah, oh." you grab her forearm, unwrapping the handkerchief and cringing at how much blood has soaked through. "jesus christ." you hold her forearm above a bucket, pouring water over the wound to rinse it off. then you grab a soft cloth with disinfectant to clean around the area. the sting makes minji groan. "sorry," you apologize.

"it’s fine," she says quietly, watching you clean around the wound with an alcohol wipe. minji bites back more sounds of pain—for your sake, of course.

the rest of the time you treat her, it's silent. thankfully, the cut isn’t severe enough to need stitches. you apply a thin layer of ointment to the wound, then cover it with gauze, wrapping it securely around her forearm to keep it in place. you rub your thumb over the gauze, then look up at spiderwoman.

“does it hurt less?”

“yeah,” she says, looking down at her treated cut. “thank you.”

“it’s nothing.”

“why did you do it?”

“why not?” you shrug, packing up the equipment you used. “you’re spiderwoman.”

“you just said the police hate me.”

“they do.”

“your dad is a cop.”

“you’re smart,” you grin at her teasingly as she points out the obvious. “he is.”

minji sighs, unable to read you at all. “you don’t hate me?”

“i don’t have any reason to. most of the time you do their job better, you help out with the more… serious crimes. if anything, i think you’re a hero.”

that manages to shut spiderwoman up, so you continue, putting the first aid kit away in the cabinet. then you grab the blood and water mixture and pour it down the sink. you rinse the bucket and place it on the ground before tossing the empty water bottle into the trash.

minji cannot believe any of this happened. you, the prettiest, sweetest girl in the school that she’s been head over heels for since grade eight, have managed to drag a vigilante five minutes away to your school and treat her.

“how are you so good with stuff like this?” minji questions, watching you wash your hands. 

“my aunt is a nurse.” you dry off your hands with a paper towel, then turn to look at her. “she taught me a fair amount.”

of course you know how to treat a wound, you’re good at everything, minji thinks.

“thank you…?”

“y/n,” minji already knows that, and you saying it is like choir bells ringing. “my name is y/n.”

“right, thank you y/n.”

“mhm.” she watches you fix your black t-shirt and jeans, then grab a small bandaid from the drawer nearby. you look in the mirror and lift your head up, turning to the side to place the bandaid on a small cut that minji didn’t notice before.

“he hurt you?”

“‘just a scratch,’” you mock her words from earlier. “he just grazed me, it’s bleeding a little now though.”

“you’re okay, right?”

“kind of traumatized but i’ll be fine.” you say, brushing it off like it’s nothing. minji is seriously attracted to everything about you. “i’m glad you’re okay.”

“i should be the one saying that.”

“i’m okay, spiderwoman. all because of you.”

minji tries to respond, but her throat dries up. she watches you smile at her, feeling her heart do a little flip in her chest. she wonders what she can do in return, then perks her head up as an idea forms in her mind.

“i can drop you back off at home, it’s getting late,” you offer, though it’s only five o’clock in the afternoon. despite the early hour, minji finds herself wanting to spend more time with you. behind the mask, she feels a bit more confident talking to you, knowing you think highly of her from what you’ve overheard. “you like the thrill, right?”

“you’re a good listener.”

“i guess so.”

“i’d love to get home via spiderwoman, uber’s are pricey these days.”

minji laughs softly and the pain in her arm fades away momentarily.

–

you’re bombarded the next day by your friends and some other people you’ve only talked to a few times in your (almost) four years of being in the school. they all question the same thing, everything is related to what happened between you and spiderwoman because of some pictures going around on the internet.

the people you don’t know all too well all question your experience, but your friends are asking if you’re okay or severely injured.

jungwon acts as a bodyguard, shooing away everyone who isn’t in your circle and tilting your head up to examine the bandaid on your neck.

“is your throat okay?”

“it’s nothing, just a little worse than a papercut,” you assure, but wonyoung makes a face.

“papercuts are terrible y/n,” she groans, “are you sure you’re fine?”

“it’s nothing. spiderwoman saved me before i could do anything, i’ll tell you more, let’s just get to class?”

“you’re sure you’re–” 

“wonyoung, it’s a scratch. it’s nothing.”

–

after school, you’re typically at tennis practice or helping out with student government activities. you usually get home around four or five, either sweaty from practice or burnt out from your responsibilities. normally, you arrive before your dad and aunt. your dad’s demanding schedule rarely allows him to rest, and your aunt’s schedule is worse considering she’s a nurse, so you’re usually home alone for a bit.

that’s not the case this time.

you close the door behind you, then turn to see your dad leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. your aunt looks at you, clearly tense.

“oh, you’re both home.” you set your jacket on the little hook in the door. “what’s up…?” the way your dad looks at you makes you stiff, his jaw tightens and he looks angry. he’s rarely ever angry at you, and your aunt seems worried. “did something happen?” you ask.

“how about you explain to me why i’m finding out today,” he steps away from the counter, walking towards you and continuing, “that my daughter crossed paths with that vigilante.”

“spiderwoman?”

“y/n, i thought you knew better.”

your shoulders sink and you sigh, “she’s not as bad as you paint her out to be.”

“she could be, she’s dangerous.”

“dad!” you scoff, shaking your head. “are you dense? if she hadn’t been there, my throat would’ve been sliced.”

“or maybe you wouldn’t have been in that situation at all. you realize those men used you to get spiderwoman to surrender? because of her i almost lost my only daughter.”

your aunt simply hums, then nods. “i’m sorry but… your dad has a point.”

“you’re agreeing with him too?” you groan, “dad, regardless of what could’ve happened, what did happen was that spiderwoman saved me. can’t you see that?”

“y/n, think about what could happen in the long run, listen to your dad. look, i know you’re frustrated, but your dad is also my older brother, he’s always known what’s best.”

“all that spiderwoman can bring is danger to you, don’t follow her antics.”

you stare at both of them, baffled and almost offended. you could’ve died, and they’re still ungrateful for spider-woman’s efforts. you bite the inside of your lip, struggling to hold back the urge to lash out. your dad sends you a small warning look, silently reminding you to keep your composure. scoffing, since it's the only outlet for your frustration, you storm down the hall to your room, deciding to avoid them for a while.

once you close the door, you flop down on your bed and close your eyes.

various emotions come rushing to you, only fuelign the fire of resent towards your dad in the moment.

he’s been so uptight since your mom passed when you were young, becoming increasingly protective and closed off. he pushes you to be better but restricts you from so many things. it’s as if he wants to hide you from the world, only exposing you to what he deems right. his selfishness and narrow-mindedness infuriate you. his biased views feel like chains holding you back and making you angrier.

your aunt has been with you for a while now, and she understands you the most. she gets your moods, motivations, and knows you like the back of her hand. despite everything, she sides with your dad – you feel some sort of betrayal.

your father isn’t a bad guy, but being mad at him makes you forget that for a bit.

“he doesn’t know shit,” you mutter, “spiderwoman isn’t danger.”

sitting up again, you stare at the floor as you recollect yourself.

you groan again, feeling cramped up in the room. your thoughts feel like a stormy cloud over your head and the thought of being in the same living space with your dad only frustrates you more. 

quickly, you grab your phone and keys, rushing out your room and down the hall. your aunt and dad stop conversing momentarily as they watch you unlock the door.

“what do you think you’re doing y/n?” your dad questions, watching you closely. you don’t respond, instead sending him a small look before opening the door, and he seems to lose it. “where the hell are you–”

his wrist is restrained and tugged at as you exit the apartment. your dad looks back to see your aunt – his sister – holding him back. she shakes her head and stops him, softly saying, “don’t, just let her.”

“i can’t just–”

“you’re so uptight, just let her be. she’s overstimulated and needs some time.”

he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking back at the door. his body relaxes, almost going limp as he sits down next to your aunt. “i’m just worried for her.”

“she’ll be fine, just take it easy. i’m worried about her too.”

–

you’ve made it a few blocks away with no idea in mind. you don’t have your wallet or anything, just a heavy heart and clouded mind – and after hearing your stomach rumble, almost an empty stomach too.

it’s still busy during the late evening. people are making their way home after staying late at work, families of three or four linger together, and friends eat ice cream on the benches. you’re trying to find a place that brings you peace. the nearby bookstore, the same one you grew up visiting, pops into your head. it never fails to bring you relaxation, a sort of sanctuary to you.

one more block and you’ve turned to meet the entrance of the bookstore, it closes in less than an hour – that’s more than enough time to cruise around. stepping inside you’re met with the strangely nice smell of books, a small smile forms on your lips.

you make your way over to the graphic novels, sliding your fingers along the spines as you walk through. you’ve already read most of them, and tonight's mood doesn’t really call for this type of reading. the next section you visit is where your favorite poems and literature are found. you scan the shelves closely before picking out a small book filled with a collection of poems you haven’t seen before. flipping through it, you read every other page, admiring the works.

you grab another book before heading to your favorite spot, the little corner away from the shelves near the window. 

what you don’t expect to see is someone in your usual spot, slumped against the wall, sleeping with a book in their hand. you squint your eyes as you catch sight of the person, then look closer, realizing it isn’t just anyone: it’s minji.

minji’s always been alluring in your eyes, not just physically but her as a person drew you in a bit. she’d always stumble on her words and had this weird, adorable charm to her with every interaction. plus, she was smart and sweet, but you never had the chance to talk to her as much as you’d like to – even if you were to, you were always a little nervous yourself. seeing her now, she looks especially cute, reminding you of how she makes your heart beat slightly faster everytime you see her.

she’s in a black hoodie and jeans, breathing slowly with her head angled down and her lips slightly parted. her glasses are almost at the tip of her nose and her hair is tied up in a casual bun. you’ve always caught her sleeping in class at least twice a week from afar, you never realized how pretty she looked up close.

you hesitate, unsure whether to wake her or not. glancing down at your phone to check the time, you decide you’ll wake her before the store closes.

to pass the time, you continue to read, marvelled at certain pieces and snapping pictures here and there. this lasts twenty minutes, you almost forget about the time, but minji crosses your mind as you read a certain poem and it prompts you to check your phone and look back at the girl.

you shake her lightly, hearing her groan despite not budging. you squeeze her shoulder and she still doesn’t wake up, so you opt to pinch her cheeks, which stirs her awake.

“hm?” she mutters, blinking a couple times. 

“morning minji.”

“y/n, hi, what– how did you get here? what time is it…”

she hears you giggle before responding, “the place closes in ten minutes. i usually read in this space but when i came over i saw you sleeping, so i just stayed close until it got late.”

“you did?” you stayed by minji while she slept, how crazy is that? minji pushes her glasses up. “thank you for waking me up.”

“it’s nothing, but we should probably head out before they kick us out.”

“yeah, that sounds good.”

minji follows you towards the section where you got the book you were reading. she watches as you carefully put the book back in its place, and then you lead her out of the bookstore, saying goodnight to the staff sweetly and waving. minji can only smile and admire until you’re both outside.

you look both ways, then your stomach rumbles. your cheeks warm up and you embarrassingly mumble, “sorry, i haven’t eaten yet.”

“you haven’t?” minji questions.

“no. i’ll eat later, i don’t have my wallet on me.”

“but your stomach just rumbled, you should really eat.”

“it’s whatever.”

“no,” minji shakes her head, then looks at you seriously. “it’s not whatever, let me buy you something.” she says, a little shocked that she even had the confidence to say that. “you need to eat.”

“it’s fine, i–”

“come on, let’s go. the convenience store is at the end of the block.”

“i don’t have my wallet minji.”

“i’ll pay.”

“you’re not paying for me.”

“yes i am. do you want those pictures or…?” minji smirks slightly and you surrender because it makes you feel oddly nervous and warm inside.

“fine.” you respond, shoulders sinking as minji starts to walk in the direction of the convenience store. 

the two of you make your way inside, wandering around and browsing the cheaper options. minji grabs a packet of ramen and some green tea, while you find a chicken sandwich and peach tea. after being rung up by the cashier, you head towards the area to prepare minji’s ramen. as you glance at the food in your hands, you feel a pang of guilt, knowing she bought it for you.

minji’s pouring hot water into the bowl while you speak, “i’ll pay you back.”

“it’s nothing, don’t.”

“stop, i will.”

“don’t.” minji shrugs, then uses a chopstick to stir the noodles around. she puts a sauce packet in and mixes again, then looks at you with a small smile. “it’s nothing, seriously. i haven’t eaten dinner yet either, your company is enough.”

“is it?”

she finds herself blushing a little. “um, yeah, yes.”

“oh.” your lips start to turn up. “yours is great too.”

minji turns back to the bowl of ramen because she’s a little embarrassed, but also because her dinner is finished. 

the two of you sit at the counters inside the store and start to eat. it’s silent for a while, but there’s nothing wrong with that. you feel happy just being next to her, and the sandwich tastes better than usual.

“why didn’t you eat before?” minji asks you while you’re still chewing. 

you take a moment to swallow before answering, “i kind of… ran away for a bit.”

“you snuck out?”

“no, my dad saw me leave. i think my aunt held him back.”

“oh.” minji looks away from you and out the window. “did something happen?” she starts, but stops herself soon after. “i mean you don’t have to tell me of course, i was just curious.”

“it’s fine, my dad and i got into a little disagreement, that’s all.” you see, a little bothered by it in minji’s eyes, but she doesn’t push further. you take a sip of your tea and turn to look at minji. “how long were you at the bookstore?”

“oh, um.” she laughs nervously. “i was reading for half an hour, then fell asleep. you woke me up a few hours after.”

“you were asleep for hours there?”

“only two!” she quickly defends, making you giggle. “i’m just… tired these days.”

you scoff playfully. “doing what?” 

minji pauses, trying to formulate an answer. “sleep problems?” it comes out unsure and more like she’s questioning herself. she coughs and says again, firmly, “sleep problems.”

“aw, maybe buy melatonin?”

“my mom isn’t fond of that, she thinks it’ll mess with my health.”

“yeah, my dad thinks that too.” 

minji chuckles before slurping up a few more noodles, and you take another bite out of your sandwich.

a few minutes later, you two finish your food and start walking with no destination in mind. the evening chill sets in, and the breeze makes you tense up and shiver. minji notices you clutch your phone tighter as the wind blows against you. you're wearing a baby t-shirt and linen pants, clearly not enough to keep warm in this weather.

“are you cold?”

you shake your head and lie, “no, just a breeze.”

“you look cold. here, i have a long-sleeved shirt under this anyway,” minji says quietly, slipping off her hoodie. she pauses and you do too, then hands it to you. you tilt your head, staring at the piece of clothing, then look back at her. she moves it towards you again, urging you to take it. “i’m warm, you’re not.”

“i am.”

“i didn’t know you could be such a liar, y/n.”

“what?”

“i’m kidding,” she says, then pulls you closer by your wrist. you let her put the hoodie on you, it fits a little large since it’s also oversized on her. “better?”

she looks at you with care in her eyes, you almost stop breathing. the sunset’s glow highlights the curve of her nose and lights up her gaze. all you can think is wow, because wow.

“woah,” you’re a little starstruck. “you’re… gorgeous.”

“i– what? no, where did that come from?”

“sorry, um, i didn’t mean to… it was just in the moment, you know? yeah…” you swallow lightly, and laugh to push away the awkwardness. “thank you. this is much better, i’m warm.”

“that’s good.”

“yeah.”

the two of you continue to walk, with you filling the silence and talking about your classes. minji’s easy to talk to, she’s a great listener and hums at everything before adding her own input. everything she responds with is interesting too, but maybe that’s because she’s minji.

both of you had turned halfway through to start walking in the other direction since you live the same way. minji points at certain stores and spots, sharing short stories and little remarks about memories from each place. her voice is soft and nostalgic, painting vivid pictures of her past experiences as you stroll along together. 

you could listen to her all day, or at least a long while. that’s what you realize the more she speaks.

you two reach a point where you need to part ways. minji lives on the right side and you live left, so you two stand at the croner before the crosswalk, looking at each other.

minji pauses you as you start to take off her hoodie, “you can give it back to me tomorrow.”

“what? no way, it’s cold.”

“my home is only five minutes down, it’s fine.”

“you sure?”

“i’m sure.” she adds.

silence follows again for a few seconds, you take the time to scan minji’s face again.

“what happened to your cheek?” you point at the bandage on her cheekbone.

“oh,” minji’s not going to tell you that some idiot decided to throw a piece of building at her and scratch her skin. “um, knife?” she clears her throat. “knife.”

“how did the knife get up there?”

minji tries hard to conjure a response, looking down before her eyes light up after a lie forms.

“i had it in my hand while trying to scratch an itch.”

“mhm, okay.” you say squinting your eyes at her and giggling. 

minji looks at the bandage on your neck, remembering how, where, and why you had hurt yourself there. it’s odd that you look at her with the same admiration even when she’s out of teh suit – when she’s just minji and not some ‘hero’ in your eyes.

“what happened to your neck?”

“some guy.” you play it off like you didn’t almost get your throat sliced. “you probably heard the story.”

“i didn’t.” she didn’t need to, minji had been part of the story.

“oh,” your fingers raise and brush against the bandage as you recall, “spiderwoman saved me, but this guy managed to graze me.”

minji hums and nods, then steps closer, reaching her hand out to gently put her finger on it. you stiffen. 

“were you scared?” minji asks, finger sliding down the bandage in a way that makes you tingle. “it must’ve been scary.”

you shake your head. “spiderwoman was there, i knew she’d come through.”

“right.” minji says lowly, then takes her finger off of you. she stares at you for a good five seconds before smiling softly. “i’ll um, i’ll see you.”

“yeah, thanks.”

“get home safe, text me when you get– oh, wait.” she furrows her brows before pulling out her phone. “i don’t have your um…” her voice quiets down to something close to a whisper, “--your number.”

“you can have it, if that’s what you’re trying to ask.” 

“yeah, um, i just wanted to make sure you got home safe.” minji says, because if anything were to happen to you she’d do more than just web some dumbass down. they’d probably be left with a little bruise or two, maybe even left upside down against a wall or tree. minji continues, “if that’s alright with you.”

“that’s perfect.” you type in your number and smile at her once more before finally adding, “thank you for the hoodie, good night minji.”

“goodnight y/n.”

with that, you two depart, and you look back once to see her walking in the other direction. when you turn back, putting your hands in the pocket of minji’s hoodie, you realize: minji’s wonderful. 

the image of her smiling and puffing her lips out when you tease her makes you grin to yourself. you can’t tell if it’s because of her hoodie or her; you’re warm inside and out.

–

minji waits for you at the entrance of the school instead of meeting her friends at their usual spot (if the little corridor by the gym counts as a meetup spot anyway). she looks around, you had texted her that you were almost at school.

she feels a little stupid standing there by herself, especially since your friends are nearby and stealing glances at her, making her shrink in her place a little.

all her worries wash away when you walk through the entrance and scan the room, meeting her eyes and lighting up. you make your way towards her with her hoodie in your arms, then hand it to her.

“thanks again.”

“it’s no problem.”

“i owe you, and for the shoot later today.”

“you don’t owe me anything.” minji smiles at you assuringly. “i’ll um, get going. your friends are all here…” she rubs her neck awkwardly and looks down at the hoodie in her hand.

“oh! i was actually wondering…” she watches you look down at the ground. “do you want to walk around together? we have first block together so… if you don’t mind. i enjoyed being around you last night.”

“you did?” minji looks surprised, she sounds surprised. “i mean, yes. yeah, i’m down, let me text my friends.”

“great.”

“yeah.”

minji can’t fight back the smile that forms on her face and neither can you – you like the sight of it. her gums show a little and you think it’s the most endearing thing in the world.

“by the way, are you and your dad okay? after the argument.. you know?”

“oh, yeah.” you mumble. you and your dad agreed to disagree. “it doesn’t really matter, i’m just grateful you were there to help me feel better.”

“i did?”

“how could you not?”

-

minji’s adjusting the settings of her camera, eyes squinty as she looks close at the small screen. from afar, you take a few glances throughout your conversation with jungwon and wonyoung.

you watch as minji’s lips pout a little, she has a poker face that would make her seem intimidating and serious if you didn’t know her. 

“hello?” jungwon waves a hand in front of your face. you glance away from minji and your attention is back on him, catching the look he shares with wonyoung. 

“why are you guys looking at each other like that.” 

wonyoung raises her eyebrows, the smirks. “the real question is why are you looking at minji so much?”

“i’m just… you know… she’s– she’s taking long to set up her stuff.”

“it’s been less than three minutes y/n,” jungwon clicks his tongue. “you even ditched us to walk with her, what’s up with that?”

crossing your arms, you respond, “what’s wrong with that? are you jealous?”

“oh not at all, i don’t care y/n. just curious, that’s all.”

“you looked a little too happy in my eyes.” wonyoung teases, smiling knowingly. 

“shut up, she’s just really nice, you know…” 

“uh huh.” jungwon hums, smiling wider.

before you can scold him, you catch minji looking up and making eye contact with you. today, she’s wearing a flannel over a white tank top, paired with dark jeans to complete the outfit. she looks a little dorky, but you’re into that – she pulls it off effortlessly. 

as she starts to walk towards you, jungwon, and wonyoung, you smile wider, waving at her and beckoning her over with your hand. minji greets the others warmly, then glances down at the ground before looking back up at you nervously.

“hi, are you all ready?”

“yeah, i’ll gather the rest.”

“great, you all can just go on with practice and i’ll try to get the best shots i can.”

“that sounds great! thank you again minji, i owe you so much.”

she chuckles, putting a hand on your shoulder and rubbing it lightly. “it’s nothing.” she says, but what’s something is the familiar tingly sensation making you lose balance. jungwon notices the blush on your cheeks, as well at your thrown off composure, fighting back a laugh.

first, you and jungwon have a warm-up match together. minji snaps a few pictures before wonyoung and heeseung join in for a doubles match. after capturing your group, she moves on to the rest of the team, snapping pictures of them in action. her shots capture the players mid-swing, rackets in hand, their faces set with determination. the light filters through the trees, casting a perfect glow over the court, making each photo dynamic and full of energy.

you sit on the side, watching your teammates and minji (mostly minji) at work. 

“i’ve never seen you with hearts in your eyes until now.” wonyoung teases, shoving her shoulder against yours.

“shut up,” you groan, putting your hand on her face and pushing her away. “minji’s so sweet, and cute…”

“i knew it!” wonyoung gasps, “you never look at anyone like that. half the school looks at you like that, but you’ve never returned the gesture.”

“there’s no one in the school to look at like that wony.”

“well, now there is.”

you sigh, leaning into your best friend and pouting. minji looks really, really good on the court, the sun hitting her, and all focused on doing what she does best.

“i never realized how gorgeous she was.” you admit, staring harder. “and she’s so nice, like, danielle – the one in student government – she’s mentioned her a few times and only good things have come out her mouth. she’s not lying.”

“what, did you hangout with her or something? like a date?”

“no! no.” you shake your head, then frown slightly. “i mean, i got into a fight again with my dad and ran out the house and then to the bookstore and–”

“slow down.”

“sorry. i don’t know, i ran into her and just being with her made me feel better. it’s crazy because we’ve barely talked before this.”

“hmm…” wonyoung starts to ponder, narrowing her eyes at minji as she shoots a thumbs up in the air. she turns to face you and your best friend, smiling and walking over. “well, seems like you’re fond of her. i guess we’ll have to let time do the work.” she says before minji’s in a range where she can hear the two of you.

minji stands in front of you and wonyoung, grinning as she explains, “i’ve gotten the last shots i think, now a group picture?” 

“yes, that would be great.”

“great, if you could get everyone in the middle of the court that would be great.”

you nod, then grab wonyoung eagerly by the wrist and motion for everyone to gather around, just like minji said.

she instructs you all to have the tallest in the back, with you and jungwon in the front together since you two are the captains. minji sets the camera on the tripod, squinting her eyes as she fixes certain things. then, she gives a small thumbs up and says, “smile!”

the whole team says “cheese!” in unison, making minji smile herself. she snaps a few pictures, then urges you all to do something a little sillier. you make a face and stand on your tip toes to wrap and arm around jungwon, making him groan and laugh simultaneously. it’s candid in a way, with everyone being themselves and enjoying the moment.

minji giggles, then raises her hand up to give one last final thumbs up.

the smile on your face fades into something near shock, because minji’s sleeve falls down to just above her elbow, revealing a covered-up patch of skin – goosebumps trail up your spine because that’s the exact same gauze and placement. everything is identical to what you patched up two days ago, your brows furrow upon seeing it.

minji doesn’t seem to notice, instead taking the camera off the tripod and clicking through the photos. the tennis team starts to converse again, but you’re caught up with the injury on minji’s forearm.

you don’t want to jump to conclusions – but you’re kind of doing that.

what doesn’t help minjis case is the fact that she reacts so quickly when a tennis ball flies toward her head. it’s almost unhuman how she manages to dodge it, then catch it right after. 

she walks back towards you, then says, “the pictures look great from the little screen, i’ll take a look at them on the laptop and email them to you, yeah?”

you don’t respond for a moment, your eyes on her exposed forearm. you squint harder, thinking of when you patched up spiderwoman, and nothing shakes you from teh fact that that’s the same fucking bandage.

“y/n?”

“oh, yeah, that sounds good.”

“yeah…” minji realizes what you’re staring at, then panics and quickly rolls down her sleeve again. “i um, i just uh, hurt myself.”

“how?” you look up at her, making eye contact. “what happened?”

“brick.” she says quietly, “i tripped and my arm hit the um, the edge of a brick.”

“right, okay.” you still look at her now covered forearm, squinting again. “i hope it feels better.”

“thanks.”

“yeah.”

–

there isn’t a single person you can confide in about your suspicion that minji might be spiderwoman. jungwon would laugh and brush you off, thinking it’s just a wild fantasy. wonyoung would probably call you delusional, yeah, probably. 

left with no one to share your thoughts, you resort to lying in bed, eyes wide open, pondering the possibility. the moonlight filters through your window, casting shadows on the ceiling as you replay every clue and coincidence in your mind, trying to make sense of it all.

you grab your phone, searching up “superwoman” to see a very recent article in the first result that comes up titled: spiderwoman caught in a recent face-off with seoul’s most dangerous gang.

you click on a video beneath the headline, watching the scene unfold. spiderwoman performs a series of flips and maneuvers that seem almost unreal. the person filming is either too nervous or simply bad at their job; the footage is shaky, making it hard to follow. you squint at the screen, trying to make out the details, feeling a mix of awe and frustration as spiderwoman's incredible agility and skill are partially obscured by the unsteady camera work.

what you do catch is a dagger being thrown at spiderwoman’s rib, slicing her suit and watching blood seep out as she clutches the wound. you wince from just watching.

spiderwoman fights off the gang members with ease, knocking out three at once by letting them charge her, then jumping up to make them crash to the ground without her laying a finger on them. the last man stares at her in fear, stumbling backward as she steps closer and webs his mouth shut.

the video ends with spiderwoman webbing all the culprits against the city square as the police arrive. there’s sirens and commotion before she turns to see cops with guns pointed at her before swinging off, leaving them frustrated. your dad appears in the frame, cursing under his breath. the civilians around watch in shock and awe, clapping as she swings away.

she swings west, you take note of that.

after clicking out the video realizing that the article had been posted only five minutes ago, you hurriedly grab a hoodie and rush out your room. your aunt isn’t home yet, so no one would notice that you’re out and about.

you rush out the door and and lock your apartment clumsily, missing the keyhole at least twice before getting it. you run towards the elevator, then out of it once you reach the lobby and speed towards your school.

the school you patched spiderwoman up in, the school you and minji attend, is west of the city square. there’s a chance that spiderwoman won’t be there, but after she’s been shown how to get in after hours, there’s also a chance that the wound on her side needs to be patched up there specifically. besides, you’ve given her the secret to getting in.

you get there after running at your fastest pace for five minutes straight, and now you’re breathing heavily outside the entrance of the school. you’re inside in no time (perks of having a keycard from student government) and tiredly rushing towards the nurses office, then heading inside.

minji, however, is at least three steps ahead of you. after being bit by a genetically modified spider, her senses have been enhanced, so she had heard you as soon as you made it past the entrance – without knowing it was you.

when you step inside, there’s no one. 

the only thing you can see are bandages messily spread out on the counter and blood on the floor. you let out a breath at the sight of it.

“it’s me, y/n.”

there’s silence for a few seconds before you hear someone landing on the ground behind you, making you yelp from surprise.

“y/n? what are you doing here?”

“i saw your fight in an article.” you start, turning around to face the masked hero. you’re still not one hundred percent sure if it’s minji, but something tells you it’s her. you can’t really explain it. “you’re hurt.”

“a little.”

“that’s a big scratch you have there.” you point out, making minji laugh despite the sharp pain she feels.

“‘you’re smart’.” now it’s her turn to mock your words. you roll your eyes, stepping closer to press your fingers against it, her blood staining your fingers a bit. 

“sit down.”

“i don’t need your help.”

“you’re going to end up with a soaked bandaid, spiderwoman. i know what i’m doing, and i’m already here.”

minji inhales sharply when you press against the cut. “fine.” she croaks out.

she sits down on the counter, legs hanging off as you clean around the wound, blood soaking the small towel. you add some disinfectant, hearing her wince lowly and grip the counter not-so-subtly, so you grab her hand, squeezing comfortingly.

“it’s okay, i’m here.” you mumble, looking up at her. 

minji feels her heart tighten.

“thank you.”

you hum.

you bandage the wound carefully, relieved it’s not deep enough to require stitches. spiderwoman glances at her rib area, gently sliding her fingers over your handiwork. she looks back at you, a soft smile playing under her mask.

she watches you look back, frowning.

“what’s wrong?” minji asks.

“you’re bleeding.”

“you patched me up.”

shaking your head, you do something that makes minji short-circuit. your hand falls to her jawline, your thumb grazing the edge near her chin before pressing down. minji feels a sharp pain she hadn't noticed before. when you pull your thumb away, you stare at the smear of blood on it, holding it up to show her.

“it wasn’t just your abdomen.” you explain, then the worry fills your eyes again. “you’re bleeding through your mask.”

“oh,”

“can i? i won’t do it all the way, just past your lip to treat the wound.”

minji hesitates, then nods. “yeah, that’s okay. no more than that.”

“of course.”

you tremble a little as you roll up her mask tantalizingly. your fingers meet her skin just barely, but she still hears her breath hitching and her throat drying up.

you’re looking at her exposed lips before you even pay attention to the cut on her jawline. they’re plump and parted before you, catching your eye effortlessly. after gazing for a few seconds longer, you cradle her face in one hand to keep her in place as you dab an alcohol wipe over the cut – she winces.

“sorry.”

“it’s fine.”

a few seconds later and there’s a bandaid on her jawline now, courtesy of you.

she softly rubs the bandaid, then brings her mask back down. she clears her throat,

“thank you.”

“it’s nothing.”

“you didn’t have to.”

“i want to.” your expression is hard to read, a mix of worry and pity, but also admiration. “you’re a hero, you should be treated like one.”

“i just have responsibilities.”

“well, you should be someone’s responsibility too.”

“why yours?”

“because i care – a lot.”

minji stays silent for a while, staring at you through the mask. she feels beyond lucky, a little emotional too. her chest tightens slightly, urging her to look away from you and scoot away. 

you frown again.

–

the next day minji shows up next to you nervously with hanni by her side. you’re with jungwon at your locker, conversing with him until you feel a tap on your shoulder. when you turn around, you’re more than happy to see minji.

she has a small cut on her jawline in the same area and with the same bandage. there’s no denying that spiderwoman stands before you, but you’ll let her know a different way.

jungwon watches her hand you a flashdrive, her other hand clutching the strap of her bag. 

“um, these are the pictures.” her lips move the same way as spiderwomans, and they’re just as alluring. “ ihave the edited and original versions of each, just tell me which one you like the most.”

without warning, you reach over and hug her. she widens her eyes, and so do hanni and jungwon as they watch everything unfold. you purposely slide your hand over the wound on her rib area, pressing on it slightly and hearing her sharply exhale in your ear.

it’s her, it’s definitely her – you couldn’t be any happier that it’s her. minji’s sweet, caring, and very attentive, her personality fits her alter ego perfectly.

you pull away from her and smile, your hands gently resting on her forearm, holding her in place. minji feels a rush of warmth hit her cheeks like a summer heatwave, her heart pounding in her chest. 

“you’re literally the best, thank you minji.” 

“y-yeah, it’s no problem.” 

hanni looks dumbfounded watching the exchange. she turns to minji after you walk away with jungwon, and her best friend is smiling like an idiot. hanni almost gags.

–

a week passes by, you and minji have spent more mornings before class together, even conversing after school time to time. 

minji seems to have healed, the bandage on her cheekbone is gone and there’s a faint line that indicates a former cut on her face, but it’s not noticeable under her concealer. you’re happy to see that she’s getting better physically – much faster than the normal person, you might add.

(because she’s spiderwoman, you know she’s spiderwoman.)

you’ve spent more time admiring minji, your crush on her growing deeper and it almost makes you forget that she has a whole other persona. you can’t remember a single thing about the arachnid while staring at her brown eyes and pretty pink lips.

–

there’s not much crime for a little while, not until two weeks after the night you had patched up spiderwoman (kim minji, the prettiest girl in the school). 

a video on instagram reaches four thousand views in three minutes, the video showing spiderwoman leaping off a building and knocking down some lunatic with legs made of metal. some scientists really need to stay thinking inside the box, because giving yourself additional limbs to steal from organizations is just insane.

you watch as spiderwoman gets tackled to the ground at ador labs, grappling with manmade tentacle arms using her enhanced strength. sitting on the edge of your bed, you bite the inside of your lip when you see her shoulder get cut by the edge of a mechanical hand.

thankfully, the police arrive just in time to assist. they shoot at the villain, whose face bears an uncanny resemblance to the ceo of jyp manufacturing, distracting him long enough for spiderwoman to kick him off and shoot webs at his goggles.

the person recording has a steadier hand than the last, capturing the way spiderwoman uses her webs to launch herself at the man and kick him in the chest. she quickly rips off two of the tentacles, causing the remaining ones to shut down.

she collapses to the ground, clearly exhausted, but scrambles back up and onto her feet as the police start to close in on her. she’s swift and smart, easily fleeing the scene in no time.

you had left your apartment the moment the video ended, and now you find yourself back at school, catching your breath and processing everything you just witnessed as yourush towards the nurses office.

opening the door, you catch spiderwoman sitting on the floor and leaned against the counter tiredly, clutching her shoulder. 

“my god,”

“you came.” she says, practically a breath. 

“of course i did, i saw the video.”

“i’m so tired.”

“and you’re hurt.”

“it’s not that bad actually, this one’s actually a scratch.”

“bullshit.” you mumble, quickly rushing over to tend to her wound. 

the routine unfolds without much change: you gently clean away the blood, carefully applying disinfectant. minji fights to suppress her cries of pain, but the discomfort is clear in the way her body tenses and reacts. you offer her comfort, your hand resting reassuringly over hers. through the mask, minji gazes at you with a mixture of awe and gratitude, feeling like she’s witnessed rain after a drought.

“thank you.”

“it’s nothing.” you’ve said it countless times, minji’s said it back to you when she was just minji and not someone under a suit that could swing webs, save the day, and get hurt for you to take care of her. “i mean it.”

you sit beside her, your arms pressing comfortably against each other, and lean your head against the cabinet door beneath the counter. 

minji—spiderwoman—is the first to turn her head and look at you. she visibly relaxes as her gaze settles on your side profile. you turn to meet her eyes, offering a soft sigh, feeling a shared calm in the quiet space between you.

“can i,” your voice quiets down to something near a hum. “can i kiss you?”

“w-what?” minji feels her throat go dry and blood rushing to her cheeks, it’s so sudden, you must be more exhausted than her. “i, um, i don’t know if you’d like that. you barely know me.”

“sure i would, spiderwoman.”

minji doesn’t stop you when you reach over to the bottom of her mask, rolling it up. she could stop you, but she’s stuck in place, unable to move despite how risky it is for you to find out who she really is.

there’s no chance you’d stick with her if you knew who she really was, she’s been too comfortable hiding behind this “spiderwoman” persona, hiding who she really is.

you roll the mask up less than halfway, the bottom half of her face exposed to you. the wind hits her skin and she shivers.

minji feels transparent. “i, um–”

“pretty,” you stare hard at her lops, then lean closer. “you’re so pretty.”

“you haven’t seen my whole face.”

“and yet you’re still kissable.”

“y/n, i—“ she cuts herself off, words stopping at her throat as you tilt your head and place a hand where her jaw meets her neck. she begins again, unknowingly leaning closer. “i don’t think you’d be happy with the person under the suit.” she mutters quietly.

“sure i would,” you murmur, then press your lips against hers softly. you feel her kiss back and smile into her. you part just barely, your lips ghosting hers, “kim minji.”

minji hums surprisingly when you kiss her again, still reciprocating but quickly pulling away with a gasp.

“w-what? how did—“ she clears her throat, “who’s kim minji?”

you don’t respond to her question, instead, reaching for the edge of her partially rolled-up mask and laughing softly.

“can i?”

“um,” minji folds when you look at her like that, eyes pleading and face pretty as the moon shines through the window and highlights your features. “yeah…”

you smile at her, removing the mask off her head fully to see your classmate and crush under it. she’s battered up and her hair is messy because of the mask, plus, she looks fatigued. despite this, she just looks cuter in your eyes.

without warning, you lean in again, pressing your lips against hers. minjis eyes widen momentarily before she sinks into your touch, placing a hand on your cheek and melting into you. 

when you two pull away again, you grin at the way the moon shines on her, exposing the deep blush on her cheeks and the nervousness in her features.

“why wouldn’t i want to kiss you?”

“how did you— how’d you find out?”

you shrug. “i’ve liked you for a while now, i didn’t even know it until the night you gave me your hoodie. i mean, i always thought you were cute. i paid more attention to you and all the bruises and scars added up, and i could recognize those lips from a mile away.”

she blushes intensely, the manages to breathe out a small “oh.”

“mhm.” you hum once more before hastily pecking her lips. “you’re so cute.”

“wait, you actually… do you really like me?”

“of course i do minji.”

“it’s not becuase im spiderwoman, right?” 

“no,” you grin at her dumb expression. “i like spiderwoman because she’s you, minji.”

“seriously?”

you groan, looking at her with a stupid ‘are you serious’ expression painted on your face. “do i need to kiss you again?”

“um,” minji starts, but stops herself from being so dense. “yeah, please.”

“okay.” you respond happily, cupping her cheek and closing the distance again. 

you smell like vanilla and feel like snowflakes in the spring. as you cradle her jaw and kiss her softly, minji tries to figure out if she’s dreaming. your arms wrap around her neck, pulling her closer. minji's lips gently hold your top lip, while you play with the ends of her hair, twirling it between your fingers.

“hey, minji?” you pull away to softly mumble against her lips, then minji hums in response. “let’s go out sometime, is that okay?”

“of course, yeah, please.” she sighs lovingly.

yeah, it’s not a dream.

it can’t be because you pull away and look at her like she’s the prettiest flower in a field of nothing. you smile at her, holding her face in your hands like she’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

[itsjustrosee]

Tired Stiles Stilinski x fem!reader

Alright if I'm being so honest I just needed a lil break from all the Maze Runner fanfics and to do a small fic, (a bit of a pallet cleanser for me I guess), with Stiles Stilinski bc I love him

Context: You and Stiles have an established relationship

Warnings: Nothing, just fluff

Wordcount: 868

You woke up, groggy and tired in the middle of the night lying on top of your boyfriend's chest. Heat radiated off of him, keeping you warm as cool air blew through the open window beside his bed. His chest slowly moved up and down as he let out soft breaths and the occasional snore. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing softly into your skin. You couldn't help but feel so safe and peaceful as he held onto you, even as he slept, as if you could just slip away at any moment.

But unfortunately, your peaceful sleep was interrupted by the dry scratchy feeling in your throat as you breathed in. You took your cheek off of Stiles's chest and glanced over your shoulder at his nightstand. The glass of water you normally kept there for situations such as the one you found yourself in currently, was empty.

You let out a small frustrated sigh as you buried your head into Stiles's chest. You were already dreading having to get up and go to the bathroom sink because it meant that you had to leave the warmth of Stiles and his bed, and you also ran the risk of waking him up in the process.

Quietly and subtly, you slowly snaked out of Stiles's grip and sat on the edge of the bed but before you could get up and make your way to the bathroom, you heard Stiles mumble.

"(Y/N)?" He asked, his voice soft and husky. You bit back a curse as you turned around to see Stiles's eyes fluttering open, sitting up on the bed with his elbows.

He placed his hand on your forearm, his grip gentle as he spoke again, "Where are you going?"

"Just to get a glass of water," You said, immediate guilt for waking him up settling deep in your stomach. He looked so peaceful while he slept, you hated to have interrupted it. "I'm sorry for wakin' you up, baby," You say softly, leaning in and cupping his cheek with one of your hands, kissing his forehead as you do so.

"It's okay," Stiles replied with a soft smile, as you pulled away, your eyes meeting his for a moment. Even half-asleep, he looked at you as if you had walked right out of his dream, like you were the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. Well to be fair, he looked at you like that and thought of you as that most of the time anyways.

As you got up, you grabbed the cup on his nightstand and brought it to the sink, filling it with water. You brought the cup up to your lips, taking a long sip before finally pulling the cup away, filling it up once more just in case you woke up again.

You walked back to Stiles's room and set the cup down on his nightstand and lied down. This time, Stiles wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. You felt his warmth wash over you as he pulled the covers over your shoulders.

You let out a satisfied hum as you wrapped one arm around Stiles's waist, the other resting on his chest as you nuzzled your head into his chest, closing your eyes as you did so.

"No more getting up alright?" Stiles stated almost asleep already, his voice muffled against your hair as he buried his head into the crook of your neck. He inhaled, getting a whiff of your shampoo, a light floral smell that he had grown to adore ever since you both started dating.

"No more getting up, pinky swear," You mumble, slowly drifting off to sleep as well now that you are safely wrapped in Stiles's arms.

"Good," Stiles mumbled, pressing small kisses onto your neck as he stroked your hair.

Right as you were about to fall asleep once more, Stiles whispered, "Is it your turn to cook breakfast tomorrow morning?" He asked quietly.

"Mhm," You replied, not bothering to open your eyes as you replied.

"What are you going to make?" He asked again.

"Um, I'm not sure," You say, slightly more awake this time. "How do pancakes sound?" You ask, lifting your head to meet his eyes.

"Pancakes sound great," He replies, a small goofy grin spreading across his face that you couldn't help but return. You lean in, placing your lips on his in a gentle and passionate kiss.

You pull away and rest your head on his chest once more as he brings you a little closer to him this time. You shut your eyes in an attempt to fall asleep but before you can, Stiles speaks again.

"God- pancakes sound so good right now," He whispers, this time, fully awake.

"Stiles, you'll have pancakes in the morning, it's time for bed now," You say softly, placing your hand on his cheek as you look at him once more.

"Yeah you're right," He says, looking at you and placing a kiss on your forehead as you take your hand away from his face. "Goodnight baby,"

"Goodnight Stiles," You reply, and this time, there are no further interruptions, just blissful sleep.

Alright guys, sorry if this was a bit bad, I just thought it was cute and I needed something to feed my delusions (I'm sorry 😭)

let me know if yall would wanna see more of this typa stuff

also ima start working on my requests soon I promise

[harksness]

A/N: i was so feral over detective harkness i wrote a quick lil smut fic (thanx to the rings anon who gave me an idea for this lol <3)

also I KNOW SHES TECHNICALLY AGNES HERE SHHHH JUST GO WITH IT

Warnings: SMUT, oral, Agatha receiving, hair pulling, degradation and praise. Dom! Agatha as per usual. Sub! Reader as per usual.

WC: 2.1k

Carefully, you push the door to Agatha’s office closed behind you and twist the lock. She doesn’t even notice that you entered, hunched over her desk with papers and files sprawled out beneath her, pen clenched in her left hand as she bends over the mess. Strands of hair had slipped out of her ponytail, hanging along the sides of her face.

Once in a while you’ll surprise her at work like this. She’s been so stressed lately that she hasn’t been sleeping through the night. That's not abnormal for your wife, she is a bit of a workaholic afterall, but sometimes she just needs you to drag her back into reality. And that's been hard to do with your conflicting work schedules and her long days lately.

Slowly, so you don't startle her, you walk over to Agatha’s desk. Her eyes glance up to you but don’t seem to process you right away as the flick back down to her work, before landing back on you again. As the realization finally sinks in, a smile grows on her features.

“Hey, hot stuff.”

Your heart leaps into your throat at the way she shoots you a wide grin, legs spreading as she leans back in her office chair to look up at you.

“Hey, even hotter stuff.”

She snorts at your flirting, throwing her pen down onto her desk. It makes you feel a little too smug that it's so easy for her to forget her work when you're around.

“You don’t look in the mirror as much as you should. You’re obviously the hotter stuff.”

She argues lightheartedly as you turn and lean against the desk next to her, the plush of your ass digging into the edge of the tabletop as you smile down at her.

“Well I could say the same thing to you.”

Again, she snorts.

“I’ve barely slept the last few days, my eye bags are huge, my hair is a mess and I’ve got stains all down the front of my frumpy flannel. I’m not hot right now.”

Agatha's eyes are tired and her words make your heart ache in your chest. She's always the most beautiful thing in the world, the details don't matter. She's just always stunning.

You lean in towards her and take her face in your hands, her eyes fluttering closed as she leans into your touch.

“You’re always hot, baby.. It doesn’t matter the circumstances.”

You coo at her, a little laugh escaping her lips as you lean in and press a kiss to her forehead. You decide to speak up before she can continue arguing you, knowing her stubbornness wouldn't let this go unless you changed the subject.

“You look stressed, my love..”

Agatha groans at your words, frustrated.

“There’s just a lot going on right now.. Yknow?”

You nod your head in understanding. When you married her, you knew this is what you were signing up for. She’s obsessed with her job, gone for long periods of time and unable to take her mind off of her work. And that dedication is something you love about her regardless. You’re okay with being her anchor, tethering her and bringing her back to reality. She always floats back to you when you pull her back down to Earth, and that’s all you could ever ask for. 

You’ll happily keep doing this for the rest of your life.

Leaning down, you press your lips against her cheek in a lingering kiss, lips ghosting against her skin as you speak.

“Why don’t you let me help you take your mind off of things for a bit..”

You whisper against her soft skin, and she lets out an amused noise as you continue to kiss her, your lips moving to trace along her jawline as you guide her head to tilt to the side.

“Baby… Fuck.. We can’t-”

As she says that her hands are reaching for you, grabbing you and pulling you closer. You smile against her skin.

“Are you sure you want me to stop? I will if you really want me to..”

She doesn't answer, torn between doing what she wants and the responsible thing.

You pull back, admiring her beautiful, tired features for a moment. She looks up at you with love pooling in her eyes as you trace your thumb affectionately along her cheek, under the deep purple bags creasing under her pretty bright eyes before placing a lingering kiss on her lips.

Then, you quickly glance behind you at the door you locked on the way in, ensuring it’s still secure before you drop to your knees in front of her, right below her desk and between her spread legs. The firm carpet is rough on your knees but you don't care, the woman before you is more important. She groans and lets out a louder curse at the sight of you before her.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this..”

She breathes the words out and you smile up at her, leaning forward and running your hands up her clothed thighs.

“Then let me make your fantasy come true, baby.. Please?”

You beg sweetly, batting your eyelashes up at her. She digs her teeth into her bottom lip, eyes flickering greedily over you as she contemplates what to do. 

“Fuck, you’re worth getting fired over.”

You’re grinning ear to ear as you lean forward, running your hands from her knees all the way up her thighs and to the waist of her pants. She watches you with eager eyes, greedy smile etched into her pretty pink lips as she raises her hips off the chair.

Quickly, your hands scramble to undo her pants before grabbing the hem and pulling them down and off her legs, underwear and all, leaving her bare for you as more and more of her soft, pale skin is exposed.

She laughs softly at your eagerness, raising a hand to card sweetly through your locks.

“You begged for this, sweet girl.. Now, you better do a good job if you’re willing to risk my career over it.”

She teases and you lean in, holding her gaze as you press a lingering, open mouth kiss to the inside of her knee. You’re a bit insulted by her words.

“I would never leave you unsatisfied..”

You mumble against her plush skin, taking your time as you softly, firmly press your open mouth against her thigh over and over again as you trail kisses further up her legs.

Here and there you bite softly, dragging your teeth across the sensitive flesh. You feel yourself turning into putty beneath her at every soft gasp that slips past her lips, one of her hands mindlessly toying with your hair.

You start to repeat the actions on her other thigh, wanting to lavish her with sweet kisses and worship her when she lets out a frustrated sigh. Agatha winds her fingers into your hair, slumping down even further and spreading her legs wider as she pushes your mouth against her waiting cunt. You groan, immediately parting your lips as you breathe her in eagerly.

“No teasing, sweetheart… You’re gonna be a good girl and give me exactly what I want, aren’t you?”

She coos down at you, soothingly rubbing her fingers against your scalp. Immediately you let out a needy noise against her and nod your head, desperate to please.

“Good fuckin girl.”

Her voice is low as you drag your tongue through her wet folds. She lets out a controlled, quiet noise, only loud enough for you to hear as you lick up her sweetness. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the taste of her heavy on your tongue.

You begin toying with her clit, first using your tongue to ghost over it in experimental patterns as you try to wind her up. Her chair creaks as she shifts a bit, hand tightening in your hair. 

You can’t get enough of the taste of her. Heavy and metallic and so good, you don't think it could ever be enough. You’d live between her thighs, eating and surviving off of nothing but her pussy for the rest of your life if you could. You make out to kiss the little bud, puckering your lips as you drag them over it before opening your mouth and sucking it between your lips. 

She groans at that, throwing her head back against the back of her seat as you flick your tongue along her clit in quick passes, groaning against her wet cunt as you do. You feel her arousal soaking your lips, and you want to lick up every sweet drop.

“Fuck, baby..”

Agatha curses, heavy breaths dropping from her lips as she looks down at you with lidded eyes. You look back up at her, squirming desperately from your place between her legs.

“You’re such a slut, just for me, hm? So desperate for me to fuck your mouth that you had to crawl under my desk and beg for it, hm?”

Agatha's voice is breathy and erratic as she rests one arm against her chair, canting her hips up against your waiting mouth, her hand buried in your hair and forcing you down and against her with each thrust. You groan against her cunt, breathing heavily as she grinds herself against your tongue. 

You just hold your tongue out for her, letting her guide you however she needs as she fucks herself against your mouth.

“Say it, say you’re my slut with your mouth full of my pussy..”

You groan at her words, nails biting into her calves as you gargle out the words that are muffled by her cunt. She laughs softly, dropping her hips back down onto the chair for a moment and pulling your head back. You heave for air, a stupid smile on your lips as you feel her wetness soaking your lips and chin.

“Say it again.”

Agatha demands, a sadistic grin on her features as she sharply pulls your head back by the fistfull of your hair. You can’t control the moan that bursts past your lips as the delicious sting settles across your scalp.

“I’m your slut, Agatha.. Just yours.. I belong to you..”

You manage to heave the words between breaths and she grins down at you with a satisfied smile on her lips.

“Good girl. Now, get back to work, slut..”

She demands, leaning back into her chair once again and you’re eagerly diving back between her soft thighs, warm and dewey with a thin layer of sweat. Her moans are more frequent now, soft and quiet and deep as they escape her lips. You suck her clit between your teeth gently, flicking your tongue over the nub as quickly as you can.

“Ooooh.. Yes..”

Agatha breathes out, jolting a bit as she raises her hips off of her seat, pressing your needy mouth harder against her wet cunt as she begins to rut against your tongue desperately. You moan into her, meeting each thrust, making sure each movement of your tongue on her clit is calculated and precise.

She gasps sharply, freezing and desperately smushing your face harder against her. You know she’s close, and with that you harshly suck on her clit, hands desperately pawing at her soft thighs as they squeeze around your head, her mouth hung open in a silent moan as she curls in on you, curses dropping from her lips.

Your whole world stops and she’s the only thing that exists as she seizes up, sharp gasps escaping her lips as her eyes pinch shut, body tensing all around you as she cums against your waiting mouth. You watch her with wide eyes, drinking in every little reaction.

A strand of her lovely brown hair sticks to the side of her face, her long, pale neck exposed. You just want to pepper kisses along every inch of her skin. The way her fingers are tightly gripping your hair burns your scalp, but you revel in the sting because it’s just an expression of her pleasure as she cums for you.

With one last relieved gasp her grip on your head loosens and she collapses into her chair, the wheels clanking as she throws her weight back down onto it. She starts breathily laughing, raising one hand to push her stray hairs behind her ears while she rubs soothing circles against your scalp with the other. 

“Ahh.. You’re right.. You never leave me unsatisfied. You’re so good for me, sweet girl..”

She coos, smiling lazily down at you before she leans forward, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. You hum happily, a lovesick grin on your lips.

“I’m always happy to be good for you.."

You smile up at her, resting a cheek on her soft, warm thigh. But the sweet moment is short lived, because your features drop and panic sets in when a firm knocking sounds from her office door.

[monstersflashlight]

this is really specific cause I'm on e as of a few months ago and it's starting to show a lil bit and uhm uhm uh id love a story with some typa transfem werewolf perhaps or whatever you think would be best idk just something with trans monster something that's nice to read but also still 😵‍💫

Hi anon! I didn't know how to convey being on e for a lil while so I asked some of my friends and they informed me the biggest change early on is the softness of the body, so there's a big part of that here. Also! Added another anon's request because I think this could pair perfectly! Hope this is good! <3

When the heat comes...

Werewolf x transfem bunny-hybrid!reader || heat, knotting

When you start taking estrogens, you think the changes are going to be gradual and slow. Which they are… for the most part. But when suddenly you wake up completely drenched in sweat and your hard dick between your legs, you whine so loud your werewolf boyfriend stirs in his sleep. You can see him sniffing the air and growling, not waking up yet. You are desperate, your skin feels on fire and you can feel some wetness already forming in the front of your sleeping pants. You grind your ass back into your boyfriend’s pelvis and you groan and the intense sensation. He’s hard, and you are so needy you could cry.

And then it hits you.

You are entering heat. The hormones sent you into heat… Your first heat. Oh, goddess.

You want to tell him something, to wake him up, but your body takes action before your brain can fully process what’s happening. You turn around and face him, your claws not sharp enough to even scratch his body are suddenly strong enough to rip his shirt apart, latching your mouth onto one of his nipples as he cries out and wakes up with a cry. In other circumstances, you would have laughed, but in that moment your brain is consumed by his smell, the feel of his body under your soft one… You are completely gone with the ferocity of your own heat.

“What’s wrong? What’s happening? Are you okay?” Your boyfriend tries to say, groaning in between as you keep sucking his nipple, your hand rubbing his hard on through his pants. You can’t answer, tearing the fabric of his pants and mounting him. You rub your dick against his, groaning against his skin as you frantically hump him. He might be the werewolf, but the feral one are you. You can hear him smelling the air and then a loud curse: “Oh fuck, you are in heat.” You try to nod against his skin, but the movement only makes your front teeth catch against his nipple and he cries out, more precum mixing with yours as you rub yourself frantically.

He tries to move you, to turn your body around to take control of the situation, but you growl at him. It’s probably more funny than threatening, but he stops trying to move you and you keep grinding. By the time you come for the first time, he’s panting under you, his hands holding onto your hips as he lets you control the situation, constantly telling you how good you feel, how pretty and awesome you are.

You are breathing hard, still holding onto him as your body twitches over his still hard dick. He gives you something, but your brain can’t process what it is. You look at him trying to decipher what’s happening, and he just smiles sweetly at you as he grabs the bottle and squirts something on his hand. Lube. He starts playing with your hole like he’s in a rush, his hips twitching up to meet yours as you whine because of oversensitivity.

You push back against his fingers as you sit straight, your hands finding your nipples and pinching them until you are hard again. Your breasts aren’t too bit yet, but the feel of your hands against them is like heaven. You rock your hips into his fingers as he prepares you, your hands groping and pinching as he looks at you like you are a goddess over him. His breathing is labored and you can’t believe you are being so dominant, always used to be the one submitting to his big form, but something inside of you needs this. The heat is stronger than anything you’ve ever felt before.

By the time he’s four fingers in and your body is shaking with a second orgasm, the heat hits a new peak, making you scream and beg and grind against him uncontrollably. He tries to shush you, and you growl at him. He chuckles softly and lifts your hips. The second you feel the tip of his cock against your hole you are pushing down, not caring about the burn or the light pain, you just need to be fucked until the heat disappears.

You fuck yourself onto him, bouncing as you pinch your nipples, your voice doesn’t sound like you, whining and crying... exactly like a bitch in heat. You guess you are. It’s intoxicating in the best way possible. Your ears are flopping as you bounce over him, his hands not controlling, leaving you to your own rhythm. He groans and calls out your name over and over, chanting about how beautiful you look, how great your hole feels around his dick and how magnificent you are. His words mixed with the feel of him inside of you is what throws you over the edge a third time. And that’s what makes him come inside of you.

You feel the stretch of his knot as he buries himself as deep as possible. You groan, your body sagging against his front as he pushes his hips up, grinding his knot against your tender hole. He shoots inside of you so much you feel like you are about to burst… But it feels great. The burning desire inside of you silent enough to form a few words…

“I love you,” you whisper, already feeling a new wave of desire burning low.

He kisses your head and caresses your ears softly. “I love you too, sweetie. We’re going to get through this.” His knot goes down, but his dick is still hard inside of you, his own hormones responding to your heat, improving his stamina.

You two have three days of constant fucking ahead of you… and you are more than ready.

[viviskull]

And indeed, they could only go and seek out some type of closure for this truth, too.  Arthur, while the most cautious of this adventure for the three, had been poking around the desk some more to keep his brain occupied.  Lewis on the other hand kicked around some rubble given he never left a stone unturned, even in death.  Yet with their quick look over some of the front lobby, it didn’t take long for one of them to spot the out of the place bright note amongst the more unruly state of things; and Vivi happened to have a good eye for detail despite having the worst eyesight out of the gang.  Mystery had already been close on her heel, sniffing out the old rust collected VHS stand in silence as the blue dame quickly skimmed over the hastily made note.  Her nose scrunches up a little, alongside a couple brows furrowing in that instant.

She tilts her head then, nudging her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose as she reads.  “Ahhh huh…”  The dame slightest frowns then upon finishing it.  “.. That’s probably not a good sign.  This looks fresh.”

Mystery perks up at her light high pitched tone.  “What does the note even say?”  The old dog pipes up as he looks up at her with a cocked brow.  “Is our new… friend in trouble?”  Vivi on the other hand could only offer a light smile, concerning that smile that seems to draw up upon her features in that instant with an eyeful of alertness.  “.. That’s very possible, Mystery.  Even if they’ve worked here we don’t know if any of the rumors are true as they turn themselves out to be, and we can’t lose our only lead already, too.”  She pauses for an instant then.

“.. We probably have to get a move on, actually.”  Vivi adds. “If Angel’s been here?  They probably left the front door wide open like the last one.  Everything looks a bit empty anyway.” 

“Yeah.”  Arthur calls over the dreadful air.  “This desk has been plucked clean of anything useful.”

“Same here!”  Their giant ghost floats up then, tapping an impatient foot at the empty air.  He generally seems to join his wife’s side once more, if only out of impulse due to how heavy the neglectful air felt on his skeletal skin.  “There’s not much I can decipher from these old toy parts and posters.  Everything is about as old as the broken parking lot outside, guys.”

With a brief pause, the gang’s leader could only press her lips together as she squinted down at the scrap of paper again, Vivi folded it nonetheless to pocket it.  Just in case.  If their source left them a paper trail?  They could only follow it, and hope with their wits they’ll figure out where their odd lead could’ve gone; because man it wasn’t like they could back out of this now.  If they could help?  They were probably Angel’s one last hope of getting out of this mess if they managed to find them first.  Only the spirits know if the disappearances were true or another hoax in this abandoned husk of a factory. 

“Come on then, gang!”  Hollers the blue dame as she dashes towards turnstile, hopping over it with a hand quickly lugging her legs sideways over the broken things.  “We don’t have much time to lose!”

The maze of halls that make up the sprawling factory creak and groan. From somewhere deep within the bowels of the gutted building groan long-neglected and withering parts of the crumbling infrastructure. The sound of broken concrete and rebar clattering to the ground echoes through spiraling corridors. Long-dried stains cake the dusty floors and join a cacophony of broken and misplaced toy parts. Some especially damaged areas harbor flickering lights that strain to maintain illumination over the decrepit surroundings.

Yet, amidst the seemingly lifeless husk of the factory, there remain trace signs of life. The occasional sound of objects being moved or knocked over. The disruption in the thick film of dust that seems to blanket everything- the drag marks of fingers tracing along countertops and walls. Footprints that cut through pale grey betray the path of person that was here - recently. Beside said tracks, irregularly placed yellow dot stickers that fail to match any of the other decor of the mausoleum. A TV in the corner of the front lobby plays static from a VHS tape that's been looped to its end; a warning against intruders. But it seems to have gone disregarded.

Sure enough, by the VCR they find an answer. it's a note with a hastily written message scrawled on a salvaged scrap of paper.

'Mystery Skulls - If you're reading this, I've already gone ahead with trying to access the facility. I'm sorry, I just couldn't wait anymore. This place is creepy and I'm desperate for answer. From what I remember, bypassing the security systems in place was going to take a while anyway. I figured I would try and scout ahead since I was already here and see what route would be best to take. I marked the path I took with yellow stickers on the ground. Hope to see you soon. -- Angel'

How thoughtful. Impulsive? Very much so. But desperation was a powerful motivator, and if Angel had made one thing clear, it's that they were very much desperate. For answers, for closure. For the truth.

[grippingbeskar]

i just k n o w that joel would absolutely love to have reader sit on his face. i don’t think he would ever initiate it, but if baby asked nicely 🤭🤭

asking nicely

joel miller x afab!reader.

warnings: 18+ explicit content. (dirty talk. lil bit of dom!joel. face sitting clearly. joel being a mf tease i want to **** *** ****) swearing.

a/n: anon you are so right. like so so right. i love when people can read his character perfectly— like you are so right about this it’s maddening. he wouldn’t ask, but boyyyyy would he provide. thankyou for this i hope it’s okay i went a little crazy with it. also i didn’t edit this i just DID it. LET ME SIT ON YOUR FACE JOELSNJCKSNCJS

“Stop fidgetin’.” Joel grumbles into the back of your neck, arm tightening around your hips to stop you from flipping over for the thousandth time. You cringe a little, knowing how the tiny bed you two have shacked up in for a night between patrol runs hides none of your thrashing movements to him. You hate keeping him from the limited sleep he gets— but it’s for a good reason.

“Sorry.” You say, and he groans in response. You try to stay still— really, you do. You try to just go to sleep, but his hand picks up it’s movement again, tracing light circles on the skin of your bare hip, and then you’re back where you started.

You feel bad you’re keeping him up, but it’s his fault. How are you meant to just fall asleep when he’s literally touching you? He’s… him. It’s impossible not to want to jump his bones every time he lays a finger on you, let alone hooks his strong arm over your body, his hips pressed against the back of yours.

You flip over again, face to face with him. One of his eyes open, and he groans.

“Darlin’.” He says, voice low and cracked with sleep. “What is it? You havin’ trouble sleeping?”

Instead of answering, you just nod and scoot a little closer to him. You were still naked from the events of just hours before, Joel bending you over the end of the bed and fucking you until your mind went blank, and he’d only bothered to put on his boxers before crashing into sleep behind you. The two of you were incessant like that— you were pretty sure it had something to do with how long it took you both to get together. Now you were, you just couldn’t stay away.

He sighs and wraps you in his arms, kissing you softly on the forehead before you tuck yourself away under his chin. It’s not true, really. Well, you were having trouble sleeping, but it’s not for the reason he thinks.

You hardly get any time alone. Between Jackson’s demanding patrol schedules and Ellie running around with all her friends, you and Joel only really get a few choice moments to be really alone. Usually, it’s great. You love having Ellie and everyone in Jackson around, but tonight you were happy to be alone, and it just made you think of all the things you two do when you’re alone, and now, when you’re supposed to be sleeping, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“Better?” He says, and it’s you sighing this time. He was so sweet to you— just you, all the time, and you really shouldn’t bother him with the dirty thoughts running through your mind right now. “Alright, what is it?”

“Nothing.” You mumble and hide your face. One of his arms slips back over you slowly, his hand trailing it’s way to your face. His hands are so strong, he hardly has to apply any pressure before your eyes flutter up to him, forcing your head up.

“You lyin’ to me, darlin’?” You frown, pouting. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“You can’t even see how I’m looking at you.” You squint, trying to find the lines of his face in the pitch dark room.

“Can feel it.” He tips your head higher, making your body wriggle up to follow his touch. His lips hover in front of yours, warmth rolling over your cheeks. “You having those dreams again?”

You shake your head.

“No?” He confirms, and you do it again. “You feelin’ okay? You sick or somethin’?”

“Joel—“

“Don’t whine. You’re a big girl. You need something, you ask for it.” It might not have meant to be taken like… that, but fuck, you were nearly shaking in anticipation. The dip in his voice, a slightly demeaning lilt in his tone— it was doing nothing to calm down the wicked heat spreading in your stomach.

Whatever your reaction, it told him everything he needed to know.

Suddenly he’s sitting up, taking some of that warmth with him, but then he’s reaching for you again, pulling your naked body into his lap and tucking your hair behind your ears. The movement is so natural, so practised to him that he can do it blind.

He laughs darkly, hands cupping your cheeks and kissing you so deeply that it makes you squeak in surprise. Your body tenses up, then melts into him as his hands begin to trail lower, giving you what you wordlessly told him you needed. He’s slow, letting his fingers dip into every curve around your hips, tracing the line of your spine and smiling into your mouth as you arch yourself closer.

His hands reach the base of your spine, then lower, squeezing your ass and groaning as you grind down into his lap. He pulls away, kissing roughly under your jaw, down your neck, the tired and lazy pace making it impossible to not wrap your arms around his neck and thread your fingers through his hair.

“This what you want, sweet thing?” All you can do is hum happily, and he grinds you down on his lap again. “Jesus Christ— fuckin’ insatiable.”

“Joel…” You whine, and his teeth graze the sensitive spot on your neck, making you gasp.

“What I say, huh? You need somethin’…” He dips his head, teeth nipping you bottom lip teasingly. “You ask for it.”

“Joel, come on…” You squeeze your eyes shut, a little embarrassed by the dirty idea that had you flipping around in bed like an animal. Something in particular you two hadn’t tried yet. “I want— I want you to…”

“Tell me, sweet thing. Taught you better than to mumble, didn’t I?” You shudder, feeling his hands wander around your hips to the top of your thighs. He was getting close, but not right on the money.

You were really going to have to say it out loud.

A tight squeeze on your hips has your eyes fluttering open again, and he was so close you could see a little bit of him now. His usually unfairly fluffy hair is a little smushed down from where he’d been pressed into the pillow, and his eyes were half lidded, flitting between your eyes and where your hips met his. He was picture perfect like this— the dimmed image making you remember all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place.

He squeezes you again, giving you a sly grin, and your mind switches from the romantic to a little more serious.

“I want your mouth.” You manage to say in a breathy gasp, and you’re rewarded with just that. He groans in approval, the vibration against your neck making you keen closer to him. He leaves wet kisses over your marked up neck, then down lower over your collarbone.

“Like this?” He says softly, and you can feel the smirk against your chest.

“No.”

“No?” He pulls back, and you groan— frustrated.

“Wait— yes. But… not like— that. Like…”

“Out with it. Now.” He says, and then smacks your ass like he’s encouraging a horse to trot. The action sparks a little fire in your stomach, and you push him in a show of strength. Your forearm shoves his chest lightly, sending him back into the headboard with a small but audible ‘oof.’

“I want to sit on your face.” You’re met with silence.

Joel’s wandering hands still on your bare skin, and if you really concentrate you can feel his stuttered pulse under his palms. The man who never freezes, never doesn’t know what to do— you left him completely speechless.

Your gut sinks. You think you’ve made him think you’re some kind of sex fiend, or worse— you’ve made him uncomfortable. You sit in the silence for two… three… four whole seconds before it all becomes too much and you try to backtrack.

“Hold on— wait, that came out of nowhere.” No, it did not. “I just… shit, Joel I just—“

“Fuck.” He mutters, and then slams his mouth to yours. He kisses you hot and heavy, and before you know it he’s laying down and you’re hovering over the top of him, your knees over his hips. “You sweet fuckin’ thing. Come ‘ere.”

“Joel, you don’t have t—“

“You want this, baby?” Figuring there’s no going back now, and the mere idea nearly sending your mind into a dizzy spell, you nod at him. “Good. Fuck— so good. I want it. Come here.”

He shuffles further underneath you, your legs feeling like jelly the second he hooks his arms around the backs of them. You gasp and nearly topple over when he yanks you up, and you have to hold onto the headboard when Joel’s shoulders part your legs further.

When you tentatively move higher, you shudder his name when his hot breath brushes over your core. It rushes over your sensitive inner thighs, and knowing he’s so close— so close, and no part of you could hide from him… it was nearly better than the actual thing. Nearly.

That was until he strained his neck up and kissed between your legs right there, and—

“Fuck, Joel!” You cried out, probably loud enough to alert anyone in the area to your location, and Joel fucking laughs. You know, because the sensation only doubles as he smiles and repeats the slow motion, tongue wrapping around your clit while his mouth slowly follows.

“Sit, baby.” He mumbles into you, and you suck in a breath, still hovering slightly over him. You don’t want to crush the man, but if you hold here any longer your legs will give out.

He doesn’t bother fighting you, just wraps his arms further around your legs and tugs you down, smothering himself between your legs so deep you don’t think he can even breath properly.

He isn’t one for wasting time, his mouth already working you open as his tongue tastes you from the new angle, and you know he looks up at your dazed expression because his nose brushes against your clit. You cry out again, and there’s a loud smack before you realise it’s his hands grabbing at your ass again, holding you down.

He groans, and it’s amazing you hear it over your own desperate little noises. It’s impossible to be quiet, Joel downright devouring every inch of you, and you have no choice but to just sit there and let him. It’s fucking earth shattering— your knuckles going white as they tighten around the wooden frame of the headboard. His tongue slides through your folds again, and when he finds that sensitive spot again, your hips buck against his face.

“Yeah— fuck. That’s it.” You hear him say, and then he’s sending an entirely new wave of pleasure up your spine, leaving you breathless for anything else but his name.

“Joel. Joel!” You say in a higher tone than you thought possible. He just groans into you again. The soft scratch of his beard against your thighs is dull compared to the sharpness of the pleasure jabbing you closer and closer to the edge.

His tongue wraps around your clit, the warmth of his mouth making your already limited vision blur into nothing, and then you all but collapse into the headboard in front of you. You don’t know if he can breathe, but he’s holding you so tightly to him and eating you out with such fucking aggression that you don’t even think he cares. He drives you crazy— switching between lapping at your core and fucking you with his mouth, never seeming to decide on a way he wants to taste you, and all it does is bring you to your peak and yank you back just as you’re about to fall.

He knows what he’s doing, too. He loves hearing it in your voice— when you pant all brokenly, when you beg him to give you something, anything, when you offer whatever he asks as long as he just lets you cum. You know what he wants to hear, and at this point, with his tongue inside of you, you’d give him whatever. Whatever he asked for.

“Joel— p-please. I can’t…” You whine as he begins to slow down again, and you can feel that ember of orgasm still alight, growing dimmer and dimmer as he pulls away. “Joel! Joel, fucking hell— please!”

“Shh, baby. It’s okay— you’re so fucking gorgeous like this.” He soothes, his hands going soft as they knead at your hips. “You taste too good, sweet thing. Got me distracted. You just want to cum for me, don’t you?”

“P-please…” It’s fucking pathetic, and he laughs, but this time it’s not as mocking.

“Good girl. Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Incoherent babbles fill the small room in your voice as he returns his mouth to you, but not before he spits into your pussy, and lets you hear just how wet you are for him and only him.

When he flattens his tongue and lets you ride his face, you know he won’t stop this time. He’s all encouragement— hands pushing your hips to grind on him, focusing his mouth on the parts he knows make you cum quick and easy when it’s him, and he’s groaning so much you think he’s enjoying this just as much as you are.

Just as you think you’re going to cum, one of his hands disappear. You only feel it because it gives you just enough room to sink lower and practically trap Joel under your legs. You look over your shoulder and see him fist his cock in his hand, and that’s what pushes you over.

You let the pleasure wash over you, any concern about your weight on top of his face melting away as an intense heat strokes up and down your entire body, making your toes curl. It’s too intense to stay upright, your chest falling forward into the headboard, and Joel mutters something but you’re too blissed out to hear it.

Your hands begin to hurt with how hard your gripping the split wood, and when you let go you nearly collapse over him. Thankfully, Joel has shuffled up slightly so his head is on the pillows, so as your legs give out you land more towards you chest. He catches you easily and helps you lay back down, your legs completely numb as he tangles you back into him and the sheets.

His face nuzzles yours, nose against your cheek as he peppers kisses in its wake. When you turn to kiss him, you can taste yourself on his tongue, and your body shudders again, the aftershocks of one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had still racketing your limp body.

When you gain back all your consciousness, you can feel how hard Joel’s breathing is as he ticks you back against him, similar to how you started the night. At first, you think you must have suffocated him, but when he pushes his leg between your thighs, you feel the absence of boxers, and then you realise.

“Joel, did you—“

“Shh.” He mumbles into your hair and kisses the top of your head, and you can’t help but feel warm all over again. You shut your eyes, picturing the image you have of his hand slipping under his boxers, jacking off to the sight and feeling of giving you head. “Sleep, baby. Long ride home tomorrow.”

You hum in agreement, but every time you close your eyes, it’s all you can see. Biting your lip, you slip your arm over his waist, tugging him closer.

When you feel him harden against your stomach, you don’t think either of you will be sleeping much tonight.

[accioscarheadthings]

ULTRAMINE ~ CHAPTER 8

kenji sato x reader

summary: kenji gets his girls taken from him and is determined to get you and emi back.

pairings: kenji sato x fem!student!reader

warning: none, violence, use of missiles, fluff, lil bit of spice

masterlist !

you stirred from your sleep as you felt a hand gently caressing your cheek, followed by a trail of soft kisses on your neck. you slowly opened your eyes and found your lover hovering over you, a sleepy smile on his face. the outline of his body in the soft light.

his lips continue to explore your skin, moving down your neck and across your collarbone. his touch was soft and sensual, igniting a fire deep within you.

"mornin', beautiful," he mumbled against your skin, his gruff sleepy voice evident.

you hummed in acknowledgment, hissing in delight when he bit down on your skin gently, "how did you sleep?"

"surprisingly well," he laid his body on top of you, wrapping your legs around his torso under the sheets covering you both, "and you?"

"same," you admitted, holding the side of his face.

kenji's eyes fell on the wound dressing on your chest and trailed his fingers over it, "does it hurt?" he kissed your open palm, snuggling his face.

"no," you replied, raking your hand through his bangs.

"good," he sighed at your touch, lowering himself on top of you, lips hovering over yours.

"kenji," you pressed a finger against his mouth, pushing him back lightly, "can't kiss yet, i got morning breath,"

he supported hiself on his elbows beside your head giving you a look, "think i care 'bout that?"

"i care,"

kenji intertwined his fingers with yours and pinned them above your head. color rose to your cheeks.

"we've done filthier things together, babe," he ground his morning boner against your clothed core, "do i need to remind you again?"

he nosed up the side of your neck, nipping your earlobe,

you gasped at the contact, feeling the warmth of his cock, "kenji, but it's still disgust-mmphh!" the rest of your words came out as a muffled squeal.

kenji pressed his lips against yours, not wanting to hear any of your words. he devoured your mouth, tilting his head for better access.

he rutted his boner harder against you, groaning at the feel. your chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, "k-kenji,"

his pelvis grazed your clothed clit with the right amount of pressure, while he slipped his tongue into your mouth, relishing the pretty noises you made, "mm i love hearing you make those pretty noises for me,"

he pulled back, smirking proudly when you chased after his lips needily.

you glared up at him in mock frustration, "jerk,"

he smooched your forehead, his chest rumbling as he chuckled in amusement.

the two of you spent most of the day in bed, only getting out at noon. you checked in on both professor sato and emi, but in vain.

you swiped through the holograms of info displayed in front of you, trying to see if anything would give you any insight of emi's pupal stage.

the radio was distorted in the background, "it’s the first game of the series and it appears that sato is a no-show. he was absent during yesterday’s practice and team management has been silent on the situation. we’re all hoping he’s okay..."

kenji sat hunched over in the chair beside his father's life support cradle, elbows on his knees, "mina, any change?"

"no, ken. he’s stable but his internal injuries were severe. i’m sorry,"

he stood up, strutting over to where you had your holograms in front of you, "and emi?" he rested a palm against the pupa.

"it’s hard to tell, ken. my sensors can’t seem to penetrate the cocoon," the ai replied.

you shrugged, crossing your arms in front of your chest, "i got nothing. i don't know what would trigger her to get out of her cocoon. I'm going through every material i have,"

kenji sighed, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against your temple, arms wound around your body.

a distant kaiju roar was heard, causing you both to freeze momentarily. you both made your way towards the sliding glass doors.

you squinted your eyes in direction, having an idea of what it may be, "is that...? how is it even possible?"

"no. no, no, no. it can’t be," kenji shook his head, joining your side, "mina, where did that sound come from?"

"it originated from the east, a mile away," the ai responded.

a low pink glow emitted from the cocoon, your eyes widening in alarm, "kenji..."

he turned around to follow your line of sight, "oh, my god."

the pink cocoon slowly started to crack, a soft pink glow emanating from within. the pupa hatched, the chrysalis breaking apart.

tiny wings unfolded and fluttered at the sides to reveal emi waking up from her hibernation. her eyes half-open and still bleary with slumber. she stretched and yawned, adjusting to her surroundings.

"wings!" you gasped, "OF COURSE, IT'S WINGS!" you hollered in a cheer.

emi chirped at you happily, beak opened in excitement at the sight of you.

the very same kaiju roaring was heard once again and emi turned towards it, her ears perking up and she crawled towards the noise and made her way to the balcony.

"huh?" kenji stammered, "emi,"

the kaiju baby screeched, watching the setting sun, wondering where that sound came from and why it sounded so familiar to her.

"no. no, emi. no!" you and kenji ran after her.

"no, girl. emi, look at me," kenji attempted to get her attention, "look at mommy and daddy,"

"this is not good," you mumbled nervously, "emi!"

"mina, i need an analysis. what do you see?"

"scanning, ken," the ai hovered over to you both, "something’s approaching, entering the bay."

this time when you both turned toward the horizon, you could make the silhouette of a kaiju, wings spread at the sides, looking very similar to emi. the very same kaiju that kenji watched die.

kenji gasped, "that’s not possible,"

your mouth slackened, mind spiraling with all the information you had gathered from the kdf. everything they handled regarding the kaiju.

then it clicked: project surrogate.

you froze, "shit. shit,"

emi chittered, dashing towards the edge of the balcony and dove head first down the cliff.

"emi! no!" kenji yelled in terror.

"emi! no, stop!" you tried to stop her.

just before she hit the water below, emi fanned her wings at her sides, swooping through the air as she flew towards what she thought to be her mother.

"mina, take care of dad," kenji held up a fist to change into his ultraman form.

"danger. take evasive action," mina warned.

you looked up to see several missiles shooting towards the mansion, targets locked.

kenji quickly grabbed you, rushing in towards his father's cradle, "mina! shield!"

the smoke and dust settled after the explosion, and the mansion was in eerily silence. kenji began to return to his senses just as mina pulled the debris off of him, her mechanical arm moving the slab of wood from his body.

"kenji. ken?" her voice was distorted. the top of her robotic body was blasted off in the missile attack. she looked like she might collapse at any given moment.

"are you…" mina groaned, her mechanical arm whirring weakly, "ken, are you okay?"

kenji struggled forward on his foot, falling to his knees, "oh, god, mina."

"my systems are compromised. i’ll be offline soon."

kenji stumbled forward, clutching at his chest as he tried to catch his breath. "dad?" he called out hoarsely.

as he reached the edge of the balcony, he saw the wires of the life support cradle hanging lifelessly, a stark and ominous sight in the chaos. but the cradle itself was nowhere to be found.

"mina, is he gone?"

"i’m sorry, but my scans don’t detect life,"

but the heavy dust swirling around him muffled his words, and he found himself coughing and gasping for breath, unable to call out for you.

"kenji," mina spoke slowly, sparks emitting from her side, "i couldn't find her. the kdf took her,"

kenji's heart dropped to his stomach as the ai's words sunk in. he fell to his knees, the weight of her words crushing him. "no...no," he mumbled, a weak cry escaping his lips and he covered his face in remorse.

"ken?" mina dropped to the floor, losing almost all of her power.

kenji rushed to her side, holding her in between his palms.

"i’ve observed you since you were young. i know you have doubts about following in your father’s footsteps, but i see him in you. both of your parents. your mother’s sense of humor, her directness. and your father’s quiet strength. your love for y/n, in the same way, your parents loved each other. it is beautiful. you are an amazing baseball player, kenji. but you were meant to be ultraman,"

mina displayed several holographic videos one after the other, whatever she could reach:

kenji as a child giggling and playing with his parents. both of them sandwiching and hugging him tight in between their bodies.

the holographic video ended and mina cut them, "one more thing, ken. emi’s tracking device is still active. professor sato had a tracker on y/n's suit and i converged it with emi's. you can save them,”

kenji pursed his lips, her words touching him deeply, "mina, i don’t say this enough. thank you,"

"you’re welcome. now go save our girls," mina's voice cracked. she shut down completely, while one of emi's lullabies played from her speakers.

kenji exhaled sharply, resting his head against mina for a second.

his watch beeped, displaying the location of where you and emi were currently at. it seemed to be somewhere in the middle of the ocean.

fueled by a mixture of grief and resoluteness, kenji stood and took a few steps back into the rubble.

with a final glare at the destruction around him, kenji charged forward with a powerful yell, launching himself off the edge of the cliff.

he plummeted toward the water in a free fall, his body tense and focused. he changed into his ultraman form mid-air, shooting through the horizon. determined to get his girls back.

schuwatch!

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