#so you would feel it long before you hear the foot falls

[prael]

Day 2: Covered

IVE An Yujin x male reader smut

words: 6,374 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

They said you could have been special; you would argue that you are.

Destined for greatness. A bright future. Whichever other way they wanted to express it.

The thing is, not everyone is cut out for the centre stage, and that's okay. You still get to do what you love, surrounded by people who share the same passion and work just as hard. Sometimes in life, you are the backup dancer in someone else's story. Sometimes, you literally are the backup dancer.

Yujin however, Yujin is the star. The one the world adores. The one that everyone around her seems to orbit.

You're just another face in her gravitational pull. You're on the stages and you're in the videos but no one remembers your name. There's probably an edit on Weverse somewhere with a sticker on your face. It's fine though. You've long made your peace with it.

You refuse to let that take away from the fact you spend so much time with An fucking Yujin. You've seen her in every single state, every emotion. She likes her 5 am coffee black and her mid-day one with ice. Yujin loves it when you massage her shoulders after practice and hates it when you play the same song twice in a row. However, the thing she loves above all else (and this can never go public) is having you on your knees—serving her like the queen you know her to be.

That's her secret. It's one you bear—one you're fine with keeping.

The final shoot is tomorrow, and today's practice is over but you know better than to follow everyone else out of the studio. You wait and you linger, and when the room clears out and you're sure everyone has left, you kneel and you wait. Sure enough, she notices and a smile creeps onto her face.

You don't bother to look up. Instead, you stay kneeling, waiting, knowing she's going to make her way over to you.

She does.

You hear her soft footsteps approaching and see the shadow fall over you as she stands there, looking down at you. You look up, slowly, eyes trailing up the length of her legs, over the expanse of her bare thighs and then just as you reach her hips, her fingers slip into your hair. She tightens her grip and yanks your head back so she can stare directly into your eyes.

"Did I say you could look at my legs?"

You gulp, feeling the tug on your hair and the way it makes your scalp burn. Your throat is dry, mouth parted and eyes wide. "No," you respond.

"Then what are you looking at?"

"I'm sorry," you quickly apologise, your hands clenching into fists and relaxing again as she tugs harder, her grip unrelenting.

"Sorry isn't good enough," she scoffs. "Why do I always have to teach you a lesson?"

You open your mouth to speak but the words die in your throat when she shoves you to the ground and kicks her leg out, planting her foot on your chest.

"Take off my shoes, don't talk."

You rush to comply, untying the laces of her sneaker before slipping it off. Yujin switches foot and you obediently repeat the action, putting the shoe beside the first one. You know that you can't allow your eyes to linger, but her bare legs are right over you and it takes all your self-control to look away.

"Socks," Yujin mutters.

You take a deep breath, knowing exactly what she wants you to do. You're slow to reach out, placing a hand on her ankle. She lets you, allowing you to gently lift her leg and slide her sock off, dropping it to the ground beside her. Your hand slides higher, caressing the soft skin of her calf, tracing the contours of her muscles. You're almost distracted until Yujin clears her throat, glaring down at you.

You nod, sliding the second sock off her foot and letting that join the first. You don't know where to look, her skin is right in front of you, begging to be kissed. Her eyes are boring into you, demanding all your attention.

"I don't know if you deserve it," she hums, lifting her foot. She drags her toes over your chest, the ball of her foot pressing down just beneath your collarbone.

"Deserve what?"

"To taste me," she laughs. "Don't think I didn't notice how distracted you were today. Don't think I didn't notice you staring at me."

"I wasn't—"

"Don't lie," she interrupts. "It's a bad habit."

You're so hopelessly disarmed. Lying underneath her on the hardwood floor of the studio with your body burning. She's so beautiful, and it's not fair. It's not fair how the universe created someone who can ruin you so easily and look so effortless doing it.

"You're lucky it's recording today tomorrow. You know what that means."

Like any other day before a big something, Yujin has a need for a release. It's a tradition at this point. The days leading up to something are so full of stress and excitement that it all gets too much and the only way for her to relieve herself is to use you.

You nod. You know exactly what it means.

She lowers her foot, and you feel her toes brush against the crotch of your shorts. You suck in a breath as she rubs up and down the fabric, pressing into you. She's watching your reaction, watching the way you bite your lip and clench your fists.

"You've been bad today. Distracted. Not focusing. Do you think you deserve this?"

"No," you shake your head.

"I don't think you do either." She removes her foot, stepping back.

It's torture. You clench your eyes as hard as your fists, desperate not to act out of turn.

"But you know what I want," she continues as you dare to open your eyes and look up. She's staring at you, hands on her hips. "You know what to do to get back on my good side."

You nod. Of course, you know. It's not the first time you've found yourself on the floor beneath her. You sit up on your knees and shuffle forwards. Her shorts are black and loose. Your fingers slip into the waistband and you tug them down slowly, sliding them over the curve of her ass, past the smooth, glowing skin of her thighs and down to her ankles.

You take a breath. You're so desperate. So hungry. She's wearing the laced panties you like. The ones you bought for her and left in her bag. They hug her so tightly that she seems to be straining against them. Her ass looks perfect, her thighs thick and inviting and her cunt...you can see the outline of her folds. The thin material barely covers her. She knows how much it affects you.

"You're staring again," she huffs, pushing her hand into your hair once more and tugging roughly.

"I can't help it," you whimper.

Her fingers twist and you feel the burn in your scalp once more as you wince in pain. Yujin's hand moves from your hair, dragging down the length of your neck and around to the front of your throat. Her hand squeezes gently, thumb and index finger digging in just below your jaw.

"You can. You will."

You gasp, her grip is tight and you can't breathe, your eyes watering with the pain and the pleasure that it brings. She leans forward, her breath hot against the shell of your ear, her grip tight. You're trembling, shaking with the effort of holding back.

"Beg me," she whispers.

"Let me taste you. Let me kiss you. Please, please let me—"

Her grip on your neck tightens, cutting you off. Your words dissolve into a whimpering mess and your eyes roll back in their sockets as your body melts into her. Her touch, her words, her everything has such an effect on you that it takes you to another world. The only thing that exists is the two of you.

"Pathetic," she scoffs, her lips brushing your ear. "You'll do anything, won't you?"

"Yes," you moan, and you mean it.

"Good," she says as she pushes you away and you collapse back against the ground. "Now make me feel good, will you? I'm sick of waiting."

Yujin steps over you, her legs on either side of you and she pulls the laced underwear to the side, lowering herself down until she's hovering just over your mouth.

She looks ethereal like this, the lights shining down on her. The goddess of your dreams, the star of your story.

"Please, let me—" You don't even need to finish your sentence, Yujin sinks down, pressing her pussy onto your lips and you open your mouth to lick at her. A mouth full of pussy, the taste of her arousal hitting your tongue. She grinds down, the soft skin of her thighs pressing in on either side of your face, trapping you. You lick again, tongue flat against her, licking up from her entrance and over her clit. She grunts and her hips buck forward, grinding her pussy down harder on your lips.

"More," she pants.

And you give it to her. Your tongue laps at her, teasing her clit. Her hips roll and you feel the slickness between her legs growing and it's all over you, coating your face as you desperately reach for her thighs. She slaps your hand away.

"Did I say you can touch?"

You struggle to shake your head between her legs.

"So keep them down."

Your hands go back to your side and she groans in approval, grinding harder and faster, using you like she knows she can. This is so Yujin, to use you like she's nothing but a toy for her to play with. You don't care, you'll do whatever she wants.

You're lost in the moment, your tongue licking, tasting and teasing as you desperately try and find the rhythm she's moving in. Her thighs tighten around your head, trapping you there. You cut shapes across her clit with your tongue and you feel the shuddering of her legs as she whines. She loves it when you write her name with your tongue. The letters spelling out An Yujin.

It's all it takes for you to be consumed by her. She's in your system and all you want to do is make her feel good.

Even the powerful, composed, elegant, Yujin has to succumb in some form to the pleasure. She's been riding you with so much poise and posture. Her back is slightly arched, so above you is just the beautiful expanse of her upper body—clung to by a sweat-soaked white shirt. She's running her hand across her chest, her fingers twisting a nipple as she works herself into a frenzy on you. Her head rolls, her hand moves to the base of her neck and she moans.

She basks in the light shining down on her, and it's a sight to behold. The way it glistens on her skin. The sweat runs down her chest. Her hair, her face. The way she looks when she's so completely in the moment.

"Fuck—" she gasps and her thighs tense around your head.

You're trapped and you're struggling. Your face is covered in slick and your mouth is filled with her taste. You feel like you're suffocating and all you can think is that this is how you want to die, with Yujin all over you. Yet you know there's more to come. She starts to crumble. The poise fades and she leans forward, slamming the palm of her hand against the floor.

She hunches as she rides harder. She's fucking down onto your face. Grinding her pussy on your lips and your chin, chasing the ecstasy that she needs. She's so close you can feel it in the way she trembles. You hear it in her moaning, her whines. She's there. Right there, on the cusp. 

And how you wish you could take hold of her. Grip her juicy ass in your hands and push your mouth against her cunt and fuck her with your tongue. You'd do it. You would. Your hands twitch at the thought. Your fingers curl into the floor instead. There will be no marks on Yujin's perfect skin from your fingers right now. You keep them clenched and do as you're told.

"Fuck—" She grunts, her thighs trembling. You can't move and you can barely breathe. All you can do is lick at her and let her ride you like a toy.

It's enough. Yujin cries out and her back arches, her head falling backwards. She comes and it's the most glorious sight, watching her body tense as her thighs tremble, clenching around your face. She grinds, rubbing against your tongue as she draws it out. It's messy and loud. She's panting, her chest heaving and she moans, rocking her hips and gasping.

It's like the tension washes out of her body and she sinks down, relaxing against you. She sits on your chest, looking down at you, a satisfied smirk on her face. You try to smile back but all you can manage is a dopey grin as you struggle to catch your breath. She's beautiful like this. Her eyes shine bright, the light behind them twinkling. Her skin glows and she looks like a work of art. A masterpiece.

"You did well," she praises, reaching out to touch your face, stroking her fingers across your cheeks, "you always do well for me, don't you?"

You nod. "I'd do anything for you," you say, and you mean it.

"I know you will." She shifts her hips, her thighs clamping down around your face again, restricting your air. Yujin laughs. "You'd let me suffocate you if I told you to."

And you would. You really would.

"But, I still have use for you," she tells you as she dismounts. Yujin relaxes on the floor next to you, her head propped up on her elbow.

You take a breath and roll over to look at her, still gasping for air. She smiles, reaching out and cupping your face with her hand, thumbing the wetness of her from your cheeks. You're a mess, covered in her, and her eyes tell you how much she loves that sight. How much she enjoys the power of having you like that.

Yujin leans over, her lips grazing over yours. The kiss is so light it makes you shiver. A complete contrast to what you've just experienced. She walks this balance so perfectly. The rough and the gentle, the affection and the torment. She's the best at both and she plays with them like an instrument.

"Do you like me?" Yujin blinks innocent eyes and it's a trap that you fall right into.

"Yes. You know that I do. I like you a lot."

Yujin grins. "Do you like my body?" She shuffles closer, looking down at you a little more. "Do you want to fuck me?"

You gulp, your mouth watering as your eyes wander over the curves of her figure, the way her nipples press against her shirt, the way the hem of it has risen, exposing her midriff and how she plays with the lace of her panties on her hip. You're so hard that you're aching and she knows that. You want her, you need her, you'd give anything to feel her.

"Yujin," you whimper. "Please."

"Do you deserve to fuck me? After being so bad today?"

"I can make up for it. I'll do anything—"

"I bet you would," she hums. Her hand reaches out, sliding over your shorts, her fingers grazing over the obvious bulge. "You want it that badly?"

You nod and you're desperate.

"You want to be inside me?"

"Please, Yujin," you whimper.

She grins, tugging at the waist of your shorts and slipping her fingers under the waist. "You want to grab my ass while I ride you like the toy that you are? Do you want me to bounce on your dick, hm? The one that belongs to me?"

You bite your lip as you nod fervently, watching the way her eyes shine and the corners of her lips twist. Yujin lets out a soft laugh at your desperation.

"Then worship me." She pulls her hand away from your crotch and places it on her hip to pose. "Show me how much you like my body."

Yujin rolls onto her back, throws her hands above her head and bends a knee as her other leg stretches out. She looks so perfect, so inviting. So you climb to your knees, looking over her as she relaxes. There's a natural arch to her body between her shoulders and her ass that leaves a sliver of light between the small of her back and the floor. She's an art piece. Like a statue carved from stone, sculpted and designed to be admired. A creation so beautiful and elegant.

And you're on your knees for her, kissing up her outstretched leg. Your hand traces over her thigh. You're slow, taking your time. The skin beneath your lips is so soft, so smooth, so delicate. You don't deserve her. Your lips press into the path your hand paves up her body. Gentle kisses of appreciation on the thigh you adore so much.

"Yujin—" you breathe the words hot onto her skin. A lick, to taste the sweat from her body, a kiss, to mark the spot. A honey-laced laugh rings in the air. "You're so beautiful," you murmur.

Your mouth presses against her hip, tongue trailing over her skin. Your fingers lip up under her tight-fitted shirt. She's so warm. Her body feels like it's burning and her breaths are heavy.

She looks down the length of her body to watch you as your hand slides up, pushing her shirt with it. Your lips graze over your stomach, tongue teasing and tracing over the defined lines. You're in awe of her. She's perfect, and she knows it, but you still want her to know that she's appreciated. That she's worshipped, admired, adored, lusted for, and wanted.

"I know I am," she laughs, "but tell me more."

"An Yujin," you breathe the name into her skin as you kiss your way to her chest, your hand sliding further up her body until the palm of your hand rests on the softness of her breast. "No one is like you," you whisper as you squeeze the mound in your hand, feeling her body beneath you, feeling the way it moves when your hand does. "You're so flawless."

She moans softly when your fingers pinch her nipple. "Keep going," Yujin hums.

"You're stunning," you continue, looking up at her face as you kiss across her chest to the other breast, your hand still fondling. Your mouth hovers over her nipple and your eyes flicker up to meet hers as you lick over it. She gasps and you lick again, teasing and flicking over it. "You're the most decadent, alluring thing I have ever laid eyes on."

"I'm your fantasy?" Her hands move to the top of your head, her fingers twisting into the strands of your hair as you lick, sucking her into your mouth again, teasing her with the flat of your tongue. You suck and she lets out a sharp hiss of a moan.

"My fantasy," you breathe the words against her chest. "You're my dream."

Her hips lift, pushing against you and the growing ache of your erection. The friction, the heat, the feeling of her—it's so good. She grinds, rolling her hips and rubbing against your cock, smirking at the way you whine, your eyes fluttering.

"You want to cum," she taunts. "Don't you?"

"Yujin," you moan her name again as her fingers twist tighter in your hair. Your hips roll down to meet the grind of her body and your mouth finds the crook of her neck. You inhale the scent of her. You're surrounded by Yujin. It's dizzying. She's everywhere. The smell of her, the taste of her on your tongue and lips, the feeling of her skin on your hands, under your body, the sight of her, the sound of her voice. Everything is Yujin, and you can't think of a better world to live in. "I want you," you tell her. "I want to be inside you, I need you."

"I know what you need," she hums. Yujin's hands tug on your shirt and you sit back and pull it off. Her palms press against your chest, pushing you to lie back on the floor. You watch her and the grace with which she moves, kneeling over your waist as she peels her own shirt over her head and tosses it to the side.

Your eyes are all over her body. Yujin's hands run over the softness of her skin, and she cups her tits in her hands, rolling her thumbs over her nipples, her eyes locked on yours as you watch. Her body is a wonderland. There's no part of it that you haven't seen. No inch of her skin you haven't touched or tasted. You know every crevice of it, every mark and blemish, every imperfection. You know them all and you love them. They're the most perfect imperfections you've ever seen.

She knows the power that her body has over you, the control it gives her. Yujin knows how to wield that weapon, how to make it into the sharpest sword, and how to cut you with it.

"Fuck me," you plead, the words escaping your lips in desperation. "Yujin, please."

"You beg so beautifully for me," she smiles, her fingers sliding under the waistband of your shorts. "Lift your hips."

And you obey, lifting them from the floor. Yujin's fingers tug at the fabric, pulling them down your thighs. She smiles at the sight of you, hard and leaking. Yujin's hands slide over your bare thighs. You're exposed, and the feeling of the cool air hitting your skin sends a chill up your spine. Her palms slide up until she wraps one around the base of your cock and her touch sends a shiver through your body. Yujin strokes up, slowly, twisting her hand on the upstroke. Your hips buck at her touch and she grins at the way your cock twitches, the precum leaking across the back of her hand as she reaches the top.

"You're so needy," she says as her hand glides back down. Your eyes are wide, watching every move she makes as if your life depended on it. "I like it," she tells you.

"I'd do anything—"

"I know you would," Yujin laughs, cutting you off. She shuffles forward on her knees until her thighs press on either side of your waist, caging you between her. The way she towers over you, with that look in her eyes that says you belong to her. "You're my toy, aren't you?"

"I'm your toy."

"That's right." Her hand squeezes tighter around the base of your cock as she lifts her hips, hovering just over you. You don't know how long she's going to keep you waiting, you never do. It could be seconds, it could be minutes. She has a sadistic streak that you've never understood and it's always a game of how desperate can she make you before giving in to your begging. "And who does this belong to?" she asks.

"You. Yujin. It belongs to you," you breathe the words, your fingers curling into the palms of your hands.

"That's right, it belongs to me. This cock," she strokes up again. "It's mine. Isn't it?" Yujin's fingers trace up, circling your tip.

"It's yours," you whimper. The desperation has you whining.

"It is," she laughs, and it's a sound that makes your stomach twist into knots. She squeezes you and lifts her hips just a little, enough for you to feel the heat of her body. You feel her thighs squeeze against you as she grinds her pussy on the underside of your cock, dragging the length of you through her folds and over her clit.

Instinct dictates that you bring your hand to her hip, but you know you can't just take hold of her, not unless she's given the go-ahead. You clench your hands tighter, biting your lip to hold in your frustration, your desperation.

Yujin's hips rock against you again, grinding down and using your cock to get herself off. You can feel the slickness between her legs. You can hear the wet sound it makes. She's using you, and she's loving every second. It's the sound you know too well. She's getting herself off. The feeling of her is intoxicating, and your cock is throbbing, twitching as it slides against her pussy, hitting her clit. The moans from Yujin's lips tell you exactly what it's doing to her. How much she loves the way it makes her feel.

You can't touch. You can't take control. All you can do is lie back, your head tipped back against the floor as your fingers grip in vain at the floor, struggling to keep them from reaching out for her. Yujin's body moves like silk in the wind, and you know she's so close. The sound of her, the feeling of her. She's riding the edge, grinding down, the tip of your cock catching on her entrance as she teases you with every move.

"Yujin—" you beg her name as your head falls to the side, eyes clenched closed.

"What?" Her voice is thick with lust and you feel her hand on your chin, gripping your jaw, her nails biting into your cheeks. She turns your face and forces your eyes open to watch the way she moves. "You want to be inside me?"

You can only nod in reply, feeling her fingers tighten around you, squeezing. She grins, leaning over and you feel the breath of her laughter on your neck. Her lips brush your skin. Her teeth nip, biting down on your shoulder, making you wince. Yujin's hips roll forward, and the tip of your cock catches on her entrance. She holds there for a moment, a silent torment of anticipation as your mind swirls and your stomach flips. And then you feel the heat, her warmth as she slowly pushes herself onto your cock. You watch with a hitched breath, your heart hammering in your chest. You feel her. She feels you.

The breath you'd held rushes out, a gasping moan, the feeling of being enveloped by her body. The tight warmth as Yujin sinks all the way down. Her pussy grips your length, squeezing tight and you can feel the way it flutters, the way it grips, the way it clenches around you. Your eyes meet hers, and you can see how much she enjoys having this effect on you. How she loves the way you react, the sounds she forces you to make, the way you squirm and gasp beneath her. She owns you. Completely. Utterly. Irrevocably.

Her hands press down on your chest, and she starts to move, rolling her hips, circling, lifting up just enough that she can feel you slide in and out of her. You can feel it all, you're aware of every movement she makes. How she grinds her clit against your body on the downstroke, the way her hips tilt to find the right spot, the way she moans when she hits the perfect angle. The way she moves when she finds the right pace, the perfect rhythm. It's everything and all at once.

"You feel so good inside me," Yujin purrs. She leans back, placing a hand on the top of your thigh. Her body is open to you. She's exposed. The panties she still wears are pulled to the side, her breasts bouncing with every move of her body, her stomach tightening, the soft skin pulled taut as her abs clench. She's a sight, a beauty to behold and a treasure to worship.

"Yujin, please," you breathe the word into the space between the two of you. It's not enough, you need to touch. You have to. But you're trapped and she's in charge. "Let me touch you."

"No." It's simple, the way she says it. It's like she's not even thinking about the effect she's having on you like she doesn't even realise what she's doing to your sanity. She rides you like a toy, her hips moving, grinding down, her thighs squeezing and relaxing as she works. You can only whine, lying back against the ground. You watch as she takes what she needs from you, her hand slipping down her stomach and to her clit, circling quickly as her moans fill the room. "This is my cock," she breathes, "and I'll do what I like with it."

"Yes," you hiss as your hips push upwards, your hands balled into fists at your sides. You're so hard it hurts. It aches and it throbs, and all you can do is lie back, trapped beneath Yujin and her powerful thighs. "Yujin—" you breathe, but the words stick in your throat.

Her eyes are dark, the lust-filled pools staring down at you as you lie back, completely helpless and at her mercy. Your cock twitches and she gasps, her hand on her clit, rubbing furiously, chasing her release. She's getting closer and closer with each passing second and it shows in her face. Her brow creasing, lips parted and eyes fluttering.

She's fucking herself on your dick. Yujin is using you to get herself off and you love every second of it. The feeling of her walls gripping you tight, squeezing, her body clenching around you. The way her thighs tense and shake as she moves. Her moans, her gasps. Her eyes are on you, watching you watch her.

Yujin gasps and her body shudders, her pace quickening, her fingers circling faster, rubbing frantically at her clit as she chases her orgasm. You know how close she is, and all you can do is watch her face as she gets closer and closer. Her body is shaking, trembling as the wave builds inside her. Her moans get louder, and more intense. Her fingers work harder, and you feel her tightening, the walls of her pussy squeezing down, and then she cries out, her head tipping back, her body arching, her chest pushing out as she rides the waves of her orgasm.

It's beautiful. The way her body reacts to it all, the way she looks when she comes undone. Yujin moans your name and it sends shivers up and down your spine. She looks ethereal like this. A deity to be admired. A queen on her throne.

She's beautiful. She's breathtaking. She's Yujin.

When the waves stop crashing, Yujin collapses onto you, her body limp and spent. The warmth of her body pressed against you feels like heaven and your cock is still inside her, pulsing, aching, begging for its own release.

"I don't know if I should let you cum," Yujin pants in a whisper, her face pressed against your shoulder, the hot breath on your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Could just leave you here like this. All hard and frustrated. Aching. You'd probably go home and get yourself off thinking about me."

She's right. Of course, she's right. You would.

"Or maybe you can show me just how much you appreciate me," she breathes, pushing herself up, hands on either side of your head. "Would you like that?"

"Anything," you tell her. Your hands twitch, desperate to reach up to her. "You know I would."

"I know." She smirks and sits up. Her hips lift until you feel your cock slipping out of her, her wetness dripping onto you. Yujin's fingers trace over the mess she's left, smearing it on her fingertips before bringing it to your lips. You know what she wants. She doesn't even need to ask.

Your mouth opens and she pushes her fingers between your parted lips, letting you lick them clean. You suck her fingers and her eyes watch you, a glint of something dangerous shining. She pulls them out slowly, dragging the tips over your bottom lip. "Good," Yujin breathes the word as she climbs off of you and turns around.

The curve of her ass is a beautiful thing to see. It's soft, smooth, plump. She catches a glance at you staring, a smirk tugging on her lips. She plants her hand against her ass (a harsh reminder that feeling it yourself requires her permission) and squeezes the flesh before letting out a laugh. It's all a game to her.

"You're going to show me, by cumming for me. Cumming on me." She settles back onto the floor, gracefully lying back into a pose. "You have two minutes. Two minutes to show me how much you love my body." She runs a hand from her chest all the way to her hips and you watch, entranced by every movement she makes. Yujin laughs again. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

The words kick you into action and you scramble to your knees and shuffle towards her. She laughs at the sweet, sweet honey sound that makes you melt. Your hand wraps around the base of your cock, the wetness from Yujin's pussy coating it, slick and smooth as you slowly stroke your length. You stare at her, watching the way her chest rises and falls with each breath, the way her fingers trace up and down the skin of her thigh, the way her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

It's intoxicating. You're drunk on Yujin, high off of her beauty, and you're addicted. There's no going back. You're hers, completely. Your fist tightens around your length and your strokes quicken. The feeling of it is so good and your cock is still throbbing from being trapped inside her. You can feel the lingering heat of her body on your skin. The scent of her, the taste, the sound. It's everywhere. Surrounding you. Enveloping you. Engulfing you. Consuming you.

"Two minutes," she hums the reminder, her fingers sliding between her thighs. Yujin's fingers slide over the panties she still wears. "Two minutes to make yourself cum for me. To make a mess of my body."

"Yujin," you whimper her name like it's a prayer. The sound of her voice, the sight of her body. The knowledge of what you've done, of what you've experienced. You've been inside her. You've had the taste of her on your tongue, the sound of her in your ears. Her pussy is still dripping and her thighs glistening. You're still so hard that you're aching, and all you can do is stroke yourself. All you can do is pump your hand and feel your fingers glide up and down your shaft.

Your eyes flicker from the smooth, warm, inviting skin of her chest to her pussy and back. You've tasted her. You've felt her. You've felt the way she grips and clenches, the way she feels. The sound of her when she cums.

"I don't know if you can do it. I don't know if you can cum." Yujin teases and she knows how to play you. "One minute."

"Yujin," you moan her name again and again as you feel it building. The pressure. The heat. Your cock twitches in your hand as you stroke. The sensation of the wet heat, the friction, the knowledge that Yujin is beneath you, but you're hers to command, to control. It's too much and it's everything. You feel it in your core, a twisting, coiling, winding tension that's threatening to snap.

"Do you want to cum on me?" Her voice breaks through the fog. "Do you want to mark my body with your cum? Make a mess of me?"

She throws her hands above her head, stretching out her body and presenting herself for your load. "Thirty seconds," Yujin warns, the hint of danger on the tip of her tongue.

"Yujin—" You can only whisper her name as you stroke. Hard and fast, gripping and twisting. You're so close. Right there, standing on the precipice.

"That's it. Be a good boy for me," she praises. "Show me how much you adore me."

"I—I—" Your words die in your throat, a gasping, breathless moan. You're cumming, the tension snaps and it's all too much. The pleasure rushes over you like a wave. You're drowning in it. You're suffocating. Your hips stutter, thrusting into your fist, pumping your length as you feel the hot spurts of your cum painting over Yujin's perfect, beautiful skin. The first spurt splashes across her breasts, the second spattering across her stomach and chest. Her laughter fills the room. She loves this, seeing the way she's ruined you.

Your body shakes, your hand slowing as the final drops fall from your cock to the expanse of Yujin's body. Your mind swims as you struggle to breathe. Your head spins and your vision is blurry. She's laughing, her fingers swiping through the cum, rubbing it into her skin. Her hands roam all over her body and you're entranced. Your body feels like jelly as you collapse, slumped onto your side on the floor beside her.

"Good boy," Yujin purrs, her hand sliding over her stomach and down between her legs, rubbing at her clit with your cum. She's smearing it everywhere, all over her pussy, her fingers slipping between her folds and then back to her clit. It runs over her chest, dripping down the side of her tit. Her breath hitches and you watch, mesmerised by her. "Such a good boy."

"Yujin," her name falls from your lips as if you've lost all other words, the way a prayer is uttered, reverently and devotedly. "I—"

She laughs again. It's light and playful. "I know. I'm the best, right? You're so lucky."

"Yes." It's the only thing you can think of to say. You are lucky. So unbelievably lucky.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Hogwarts AU [pt. 2]

The second time they meet, Tim actually knows a little more than nothing about him.

He knows Daniel is Vladimir Masters godson, set to inherit the man's title, and he knows that his birth parents are both wizards, albeit eccentric ones. No one would tell him how they are eccentric, not to mention why.

He knows the boy is a second child among the three, and his older sister is going to Hogwarts next year while his younger one had just turned five. And Daniel himself is seven, just like Tim, which means they will be in the same year eventually. He doesn't know whether he likes that or not.

He doesn't know nearly enough about him to form an opinion.

What he does know, though, is that he absolutely doesn't like Samantha Manson.

Mother had met Mr. and Mrs. Manson at that same party that Daniel kind of ruined (Father's words, not his, Tim thinks that elephant trunks were an improvement), and, upon finding out that they have a daughter Tim's age, decided they should be friends. Which is how Tim found himself sitting in an offensively pink room on an uncomfortably soft pink couch that is threatening to swallow him whole, right across a girl in a pink dress and with a pink bow in her hair. Granted, they are all different shades of pink, but Tim still feels very out of place in his black pants and pale blue shirt with a tight collar.

However, the most unsettling part about all this is that Samantha hadn't said a single word in about ten minutes - so, since they were left alone in this horror of a room by their respective mothers - and Tim is fairly certain she hadn't blinked once, and she is glaring something awful at Tim. For all that he knows, she is probably coming up with a detailed plan of burying his dead body in the garden.

Tim honestly tried to start a conversation. Twice. The girl looked like she didn't even notice, so Tim just kind of resigned to his fate and decided to simply wait until this was over.

He really regrets not bringing a book with him.

Another few minutes pass in silence, interrupted only by some cheerful chirping of birds outside. And then, right as Tim starts to actually consider flopping down on the soft pillows behind him and falling asleep, he hears a knock.

Samantha turns her head to the window so quickly that Tim is afraid her neck will snap. But, as he follows her example and looks outside, he can't help but blink in surprise.

Daniel Fenton, wearing some kind of red jacket with a hood - definitely muggle by the looks of it - is hovering just outside the window. On a broom. They are seven, they are not supposed to have brooms yet! Or, at least, not the ones that can go all the way up to the window on the second floor!

"Bloody finally," Samantha rolls her eyes and jumps off her seat, nearly running towards the window, "What took you so long?" She demands an answer in a snappish tone that allows no excuses.

Daniel grins and shrugs, "Jazz almost caught me sneaking out," he explains, but his gaze is not on Samantha. Instead, he is looking over her shoulder, right at Tim, before asking, "Who's that?"

The girl turns around and scowls, "A boy that my Mum wants me to marry."

Tim sputters, feeling his cheeks heat up, but not out of embarrassment; it's mostly just frustration. She most definitely does not, they are seven, and their mothers can't be making plans like that!

Can they?..

Daniel laughs, bringing the broom closer to the window and setting one foot on the widowsill for balance.

"I would have invited you with us, but I only have one broom," he tells Tim, still smiling. Tim bites his lip.

He wants to go with them so badly. They look like whatever they are about to do is going to be way more interesting than Tim's whole life. But Mother will probably be upset, and-

"Don't bother, he is boring," Samantha huffs dismissively as she pulls the skirt of her dress up and climbs out the window, carefully holding on to Daniel's shoulder as she gets on the broom behind him.

For some reason, that makes Tim angry.

He sticks his chin up higher, straightening up in his seat and frowning. "I don't see how your inevitable fall from a broom is interesting anyway," he drawls, far more mean and uncaring than he wanted to.

"See? Boring," Samantha smirks, but Daniel just looks a bit confused and thrown off.

"I'm not gonna fall," he tells Tim with a certainty that makes Tim kind of want to apologize. But the girl behind him is still smiling like she won something, and Tim is not about to back down now.

"Live with that illusion all you want," he huffs and turns away, still keeping his back straight.

"Come on, Danny, let's go," Samantha urges her friend impatiently, and Tim is decidedly not looking in that direction. He doesn't want either of them to see him pouting. Also, maybe he just doesn't want to see them fly away.

But he still hears a quiet "Bye," from the window before the room goes back to silence, interrupted only by the chirping birds and rustling leaves.

When, mere moments later, Tim looks back to the window, both of them are gone without a trace.

—☆—☆—☆—

Visuals!

The offensively pink room and the way to escape:

Tim's opinion on Sam:

[Picrew]

—☆—☆—☆—

More notes on the people and the world around:

Mansons are, actually, filthy rich. They are a wizarding family, but they are way less concerned about blood purity than people expect them to be. A part of their business involves muggle products, and while they don't advertise it, they don't try to hide it either. Jeremy never attended Hogwarts, he was a Beuxbatons student, and Pamela was a Slytherin. Both of them don't exactly like Danny for separate reasons, but Pam likes to keep Vlad as a friend, and if that means letting Sam be friends with his godson, then so be it. She still tries to keep their contact to a minimum, but it's not like Danny - or Sam, for that matter - cares.

Janet and Pamela did not, in fact, plan to marry their kids; they just liked each other enough to have tea together and decided to combine it with throwing their children at each other. Although Pam does consider Tim a fitting pair for her daughter. Janet is of a different opinion.

The broom Danny took actually belongs to Jack - or, it belonged to him a few years ago, up until Danny realized the kiddie broom is not fun anymore. Jazz is constantly scared he is going to fall and break his neck, but Maddie thinks her son is good enough of a flyer. Besides, even if they did take the broom from Danny, he would just find a different thing to break his neck with, so Maddie just put a bunch of disillusionment charms on the poor broom so Danny won't be noticed by muggles and called it a day.

This is very much not the first time Danny comes to save Sam like she's a maiden in a tower. Also, Sam is not mean out of nowhere, she just likes Danny and hates sharing, and she is seven.

[<- part 1 | part 3 ->]

[witchygagirlwrites]

Broken Bonds-Part 14

Former(ish) Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader, BabyDaddy! Jay Halstead x Reader

While you're still recovering from giving birth Stella makes an observation that has Jay ocerthinking, after all he isn't falling for you. He knows that. Right?

Warnings: the usual

Between his years in the army and the aftermath of those years Jay had learned to be a fairly light sleeper. When Addy started moving around in the bassinet that was between his cot and the bed he was up and on his feet before you could ever think about waking up. When he leaned down to slip his hands under her he spoke softly “Shh baby girl,it’s ok” and she seemed to relax just hearing his voice.

He glanced at the clock on the wall and saw it was a little after two in the morning. She was due for a feeding anyways and probably needed a diaper change. He held her to his chest as he pulled the drawer open under the bassinet to pull out everything he needed, swaying side to side gently to keep her content while he did so. The feeling of her nuzzling into his chest was like his heart was missing a piece he’d never known before she was laid in his arms. 

After a quick diaper change he snapped her onesie back and sat down in the chair next to your bed. He chanced a quick glance at you to see you were still fast asleep, one hand curled protectively around your stomach like you’d slept for the last five months or so. He wondered how long you would still sleep like that, instinctively trying to protect her even though she was already out in the world. Now it was his job to protect you both.

While he fed her he found himself just staring at her. She was barely a day old but already he could point out features that were going to look like you and a couple that were going to look like him. You hadn’t expected her to be born with any hair so the splash of dark curls on her head was a surprise to you both.  She had one tiny hand holding onto his pinkie while she drank from the bottle noisily and a small laugh escaped him “Sweetheart you don’t have to hold on so tight. Daddy isn’t going anywhere” 

After he burped her and rocked her back to sleep he laid her in the bassinet and traced her features with the tip of one of his fingers. It was still so surreal. He was a father, you were a mother. “I love you Adeline” he whispered then marked down on the chart where the nurses wanted feedings and diaper changes documented then laid back across the cot.

When you woke up you glanced at the time to see it was around six. Addy was squirming in her bassinet. “It’s ok baby” you spoke softly, worried about waking up Jay. You stood up out of the bed and realized he wasn’t on his cot but the bathroom door was closed and the light was on.

You walked over to the bassinet and smiled at the little noise she was making “Good morning love. I think your daddy stayed up all night to let me sleep” you slipped your hands under her to lift her up and she made a noise almost like a contented sigh. You held her against your chest, swaying slightly as you checked the chart to see she was due for another feeding.

You were just through changing her when the bathroom door opened and Jay said “Shoot, I was hoping she wouldn’t wake up until I got out of the shower” you looked over your shoulder at him and smiled “She’s fine daddy, mommy’s got her”

A smile slipped onto his face “Yes ma’am” you nodded and picked her up from the foot of your bed where you laid her to change her then sat down in the chair next to the bed to feed her. You saw Jay moving around, putting his dirty clothes in his duffle out of the corner of your eye but your focus was on her. She nuzzled into you as she drank, one finger rubbing at yours. She was so damn beautiful already. You could already see so much of yourself and of Jay in her. That splash of dark curls was a surprise once she had her bath.

“I love you Addy” you whispered and she cooed lightly around the bottle, making your heart flip. You felt Jay next to you right before he leaned over your shoulder “How did the two of us ever make something so perfect?” you shook your head “I have no clue” and he laughed lightly then kissed the top of your head “Stella texted, she’ll be here about eight”

You nodded “Ok, as soon as a nurse comes in I’m gonna see if it’s cool if I shower because I feel gross” “Aww sweetheart, you look beautiful” he assured you and you cut your eyes up at him “That’s caveman brain still talking Jay because I just gave birth to your daughter not even twenty four hours ago” he shook his head “Naw, it’s just true” you shook your head and moved Addy up to your shoulder so you could burp her. “I’ll chart her bottle” he offered and you smiled “Thank you”

Jay was walking around the room with Addy in his arms, talking to her. You were in the shower and he was trying to make sure she stayed content so you wouldn’t feel rushed. “And then mommy saved daddy’s neck” he laughed about the time the door opened and Stella walked in “I really hope you’re editing those stories because she’s a little young to hear how rough yours and her mom’s jobs are”

He grinned “Of course aunt Stella, just letting her know that her mom is amazing” she shook her head “Sounds like you’re trying to suck up Halstead, did you do something?” he shook his head “Me? Never” she laughed and held her arms out “Can I hold my niece” he narrowed his eyes playfully then laughed lightly “I guess, if I have to” before transferring Addy to her arms.

She nodded towards the bag she’d sat down next to the door “I bought some stuff for Y/N and an outfit for Addy but I wanted to ask before I put it on her” Jay raised an eyebrow and looked towards the bag “Why? Stella you’re her aunt, any outfit you buy her feel free to put on her” Stella shrugged “Just look” 

Jay grabbed the bag and set it on the end of the bed. Stella had bought you a couple soft tshirts and a couple snacks you liked along with lotion and a heating pad. At the bottom of the bag was a small bag, he pulled it out and unrolled it to find a small pink onesie that had what looked like a tutu around it. “This is freaking adorable Stel”

She made a motion with her finger “Look at the front” he turned it around to see it read “Mommy and Daddy’s only valentine” his eyes widened slightly “Addy was born on the thirteenth” 

She nodded slowly “Yeah, that normally comes before the fourteenth” he ran a hand down his face “I didn’t think about it with her going into labor and Addy being born” Stella stared at him for  a minute before asking “Well dude, do ya think she’ll mind the outfit?”

“Oh yeah. It’s adorable” he assured her and she smiled then held her hand out “Then I’m changing her” he passed her the onesie and tried not to hover while she changed Addy. He trusted Stella but this was still new to him, having his heart walking or well being carried around outside of his chest.  

She looked over her shoulder at him “Jay, honey I’m not gonna hurt my niece” he smiled slightly “Sorry” but instead of seeming mad she laughed “It’s ok, I kind of love seeing you being so protective over her well and how protective you are over Y/N. I know they’ll be taken care of”  “Always” he promised her, looking towards the bathroom before running a hand across his neck “Should I get her something?”

Stella picked up Addy and turned towards him “Why?” He reached out to run his fingers across Addy’s head “She just gave birth to my daughter, other moms on the floor will be getting stuff from their husbands and boyfriends. I don’t want her left out” her smile softened “That’s sweet Jay but she’s never really been big on valentines day. Poor Mouse had a hard time when they first got together trying to get her something” 

He nodded, looking back towards the bathroom again “Ok, I just don’t want her feeling like I don’t care” “She knows you do, Jay” she promised him, reaching out to touch the arm closest to her. The bathroom door cracked open and your head popped out “Stella! Will you help me? This dang sports bra is twisted” 

She laughed and nodded to Jay “Ok daddy you got your wish, take your baby back” She transferred Addy back to Jay then walked over to the bathroom “Back up so I can get in the door, dang woman” he laughed when he heard the two of you giggling and whispered to Addy “Yeah baby that’s your mama and aunt” 

Stella was helping you to braid your hair and was uncharacteristically quiet so you cut your eyes at her in the mirror “Stella bella?” “Hmm?” she asked not, looking up so you asked “Everything good?” she smiled “Of course, my sister gave birth to a healthy baby girl yesterday. My husband is taking me out to a valentines dinner at my favorite restaurant tonight”

You nodded “Ok, you just seem off” she shrugged “Just concentrating” then swung your braid around “All done” you smiled “Thank you ma’am” and opened the bathroom door, hearing her follow you out. 

Jay turned around at the sound of the door and smiled “Feeling better?” you nodded “Still not beautiful but better” and he rolled his eyes but looked down at Addy “Stella bought her a new outfit” you looked back at Stella with a grin “Already spoiling her” she winked at you “She’s my niece, it’s my right”

You walked over to lean on Jay’s shoulder so you could see that the onesie read “Mommy and Daddy’s only valentine”  “Oh that is too stinkin cute!” you cooed and he grinned “Told Stella you’d like it” you ran your fingers over Addy’s head “Of course she’s my only valentine and this year you have no choice but for her to be your only”

He shook his head at your teasing and looked at Stella “She’s always trying to s-l-u-t me out I swear” you pointed at Addy “Jay, she’s young enough you don’t have to spell out words yet, though I do love that you’re already doing that” 

Stella shook her head “I swear Adeline is gonna be the sassiest kid that ever walked being a mixture of you two” you grinned “there’s worse things she could be” Stella laughed “That’s true” then cut her eyes at the clock “Shoot, I gotta get going. Jay? Wanna walk me out. I’ll buy you and my sister a coffee”

Jay glanced at her so you held your hands out “Gimme my daughter and go walk my sister out and please get me something caffeinated. I already gave you my first born so you owe me” he transferred Addy to your arms then placed a quick kiss on your temple “I’ll have my cell and yours is on the table by the window” you shook your head “We’ll be ok”

Stella hugged you and told you and Addy both she loved you before walking out with Jay trailing behind her. You smiled down at Addy “Finally just us baby girl. Your daddy is a sweetheart but he does over worry a lot of the time” she made a little gurgle sound at that and you couldn’t help but laugh “Yeah yeah yeah, I know he’s your favorite but get older and you’ll agree with me”

You walked over to the bed so you could sit down with her. You wanted a few minutes with just her to ground yourself to the fact that this was real. She was here safe and sound. You were a mother, Jay a father. 

“What was the real reason you wanted me to walk you out Stella because we both know it wasn’t just to get her some coffee” Jay broke the silence as the two of them stood in line in the cafeteria. Stella nodded “Yeah, that wasn’t the only reason but do you want me to ask you here or out at my car?”

He cut his eyes at her then glanced around. It was still early enough not many people were in the cafeteria and no one was really around them, once they got the cups they could distance themselves to talk. “Let’s grab the coffee then talk” she nodded “You got a deal”

_________________

Stella sat across from Jay at one of the tables, fiddling with her coffee. Your cup had a little plug in it to keep it warm. “C’mon Stella, you’re married to Kelly. We both know you’re not afraid of confrontation” she laughed lightly and took a sip of her coffee “Good point”

She sat the cup down and crossed her hands before meeting his eyes “I’m gonna ask you something Jay and I’m not asking to run back to her or to tell anyone even Kelly because it’s not up to me to tell. I just want to know how complicated things are going to get for my sister’s heart because that’s my job to protect her. If anyone and I mean anyone tries to hurt her it’s my job to intervene if possible no matter how old she is or if she’s a mother now”

He nodded slowly “I’m not gonna let anyone hurt her either Stella” she smiled slightly “Just, say if it's ok for me to ask” “Just ask Stel” one of her hands came up to rub across her face before she finally said “I think either option one the last day has been very emotional and maybe I’m reading too much into things or..”

When she trailed off Jay waved a hand between them “Or?” she shrugged “Or, your feelings aren’t what they were for her or they’re starting to not be” what was Stella asking him? “What do you mean Stella?” he asked and she laughed lightly “I’ve seen men fall for my sister, your best friend included Jay. Maybe it’s the mixed emotions of her giving birth having not faded but the way you’re looking at her…if Mouse was stateside and she had given him another chance already he would never believe that you weren’t falling for her”

“I’m not…” Stella cut him off with a wave of her hand “Not my business just putting it out there like this and trust me I will repeat it to him if I need to. You will now always be in her life, as long as you’re there for Adeline she will never cut you out of her life. Mouse will have to accept that regardless. I won’t see my sister dragged through the wringer by two men she cares about with my niece in the middle. Her heart wants what it wants regardless of what they may be, you both may not like but you will respect it. As long as Y/N is happy and Adeline is taken care of, agreed?” he nodded because he wasn’t sure where this was coming from. He wasn’t falling for you, was he?  Why did Stella think he was?

“Agreed” she smiled “Good. Take her the coffee. I’ll see you later” he nodded “See ya Stel” and stood with your coffee to head back to the maternity ward as she left the hospital.

It hadn’t occurred to you until the day you were being discharged that you’d yet to talk to Jay about the whole staying the night thing. You were packing everything Addy had been bought onto the little cart for Jay to take out to his truck. He’d given Stella the key to bring it to the hospital and she’d retrieved your stuff from the precinct as well. Addy was currently asleep in her carrier that connected to the base in Jay’s truck. As soon as this cart was loaded then you and her could go.

You heard the door open behind you and smiled “This is it” he laughed “Thank god. The nurses are starting to laugh” he grabbed the cart and stopped to kiss your cheek “I’ll be right back” you nodded and turned back to slip your hoodie on over your clothes while you waited.

___________

When Jay got back he did a final walk through of the room then grabbed the handle of Addy’s carrier and a smirk slipped onto his face “I get to do the dad walk out” you knew exactly what he was talking about because you’d teased him with like half a dozen videos with the audio “that’s my type” and men doing the dad walk out of the hospital by showing him the comments of women thirsting over the men and telling him not to use Addy to try to get dates.

You shook your head but motioned to the door “Lead the way then dad” he winked at you “I see, you wanna watch me walk out” you laughed lightly then groaned “Don’t make me laugh Jay! I’m still sore” he grimaced slightly “Sorry sweetheart” then started out the door, holding it open for you.

Ok, maybe it was a bit attractive watching Jay walk out of the hospital wearing jeans and a black henley, his st michael pendant hanging loosely and carrying Addy like he was made to be her father. You could blame it on your hormones still being out of whack from giving birth at least, right?

___________

When you got to your place Jay got you and Addy inside then went to unload his truck. Once everything was inside he was hovering just inside the door. You sighed “Jay, do you want to stay tonight?” he smiled slightly “I know we said we’d drop that once you gave birth”

You shrugged “I know you don’t want to be far from her” a smile split his face “I’ll sleep on the couch. I don’t want to hurt you by bumping anything that’s sore. I just want to be near here and if I’m here I can help if you need something too” you laughed “It’s fine Jay. Besides, I have six weeks maternity leave. You have two weeks of vacation time. Might as well soak it up while you can”

He slipped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his side to place a quick kiss to your temple “You’re amazing” then about that time Addy woke up so he went to retrieve her from her crib so you grabbed a bag to start putting everything away from the hospital.

____________

You’d gone to bed about an hour or two before and Addy was fast asleep. Jay couldn’t stop thinking about what Stella had said. He didn’t think he was falling for you. He couldn’t be. He couldn’t do that to Mouse, hell you still loved Mouse. Any feelings you had for him however were  directly routed to Addy. 

After trying and failing to sleep he decided to soothe his brain by sending Mouse an email with a photo of you and Addy. He didn’t include one of himself to not rub salt into an open wound. Hey man, Adeline Halstead made her appearance February 13th at 3:46 p.m  7 pounds, 2 ounces 19 inches long. Looks just like her mama, thankfully. Hope you’re safe, Jay he hadn’t expected to get a response before he could ever lay back on the couch fully. When the email alert chimed he grabbed his phone and clicked it. The message read Congrats, She’s beautiful. Happy to know the delivery went well for both of them. Tell Y/N congrats from me please and that Adeline is adorable. Take care of them, Mouse

Maybe now that he knew you’d had Addy he could call soon and that could settle that. You’d talk to Mouse and everything would be fine. Anything that Stella thought she noticed was emotions from Addy’s birth. Everything would settle down and a new normal would be found.

@desimarie12 @waywardhunter95 @allisonargent144

[cherienymphe]

Lead Us Not Into Temptation

Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON, mentions of prostitution, mentions of infidelity

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies 

summary: turning your life around is easier said than done when you tempt the very man meant to lead you to salvation.

♱

“Bless me, father, for I have sinned…”

The familiar words tumbled from your lips, and your gaze remained on your lap, eyes following your finger as you traced patterns into the solid black skirt on your frame. It kissed your ankle as you shifted your feet, and the reminder of the long fabric had you swallowing down less than gentle thoughts. You slowly reached up to touch the collar of your shirt, eyes briefly falling closed as you cleared your throat.

You’d spent hours agonizing over how you’d leave the house…

“It has been seven days since my last confession. These are my sins.”

Like clockwork, you listed the time you cursed for some accident or another and the time you took the Lord’s name in vain and the brief impure thought about that attractive man you’d seen in the grocery store. Every week, it was the same. Sins that you yourself would never have considered as such months ago that you were now hyper aware of. They climbed out of your throat seamlessly, remembering every single one until only one was left.

The silence between you and the man just on the other side of that wall stretched—a familiar occurrence—and you took your lip between your teeth. You could taste blood as you worried it, swallowing it down before clearing your throat again. You smoothed your hand over your skirt, and you furiously blinked, struggling to blink away the tears that had started to collect. As you sat in silence, you wondered why you were trying so hard to impress people that had already written you off?

“I’ve had…some hateful thoughts as well.”

You struggled to get the words out, always struck by just how emotional this made you. You looked up towards the ceiling, eyes roaming, and you hadn’t even realized that your breathing had started to pick up until he spoke.

Father Mayhew.

“Take your time,” he gently encouraged. “Speak when you are ready.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d heard those words, recalling your first ever confessional and how you’d cried. It was as embarrassing now as it was then, but it was necessary. You were determined to live differently now—to be different, now.

“Although I have abandoned my former life and…occupation…” you thought you heard him shift. “...I feel as if I will never truly be forgiven for it.”

You swiped your tongue between your lips.

“...will never be accepted.”

You recalled the eyes that often found their way to you during mass—the judgment, the disdain, the way in which some stared at you as if they didn’t know how to place you. 

Every sunday it was the same. You’d wake up and agonize over how to present yourself in a place as holy as this. You’d fret that this skirt was too short and that dress was too tight. You’d fiddle with your hair for far too long and every lipstick you wiped off would stain your lips a little more than the last. You were constantly at a crossroad, torn between wanting to look nice for church and concerned about looking like…well…a whore.

You struggled to swallow.

“I see the way they look at me,” you eventually whispered, staring at nothing. “I can’t hear what they whisper, but I know it’s about me.”

You touched your throat, hating how tight it felt.

“It’s…discouraging.”

You didn’t want to use that word, but it was the only word that was appropriate. It made you sad, and you often wondered why you kept returning to a place that made you sad. Surely a church wasn’t necessary to ‘find God’...right? You didn’t think so, but you had wanted to start somewhere, and considering that none of your friends even owned a bible, they had been of no help. Stepping foot into a place that had only ever served to be ominous and oppressive in your eyes was the most terrifying thing you’d ever done.

…but then you had laid eyes on Father Mayhew.

He’d been the only one in the church at the time, and you would never forget the curious glint in his dark gaze. You’d had no doubt that he could see you were scared and unsure and in an environment you were wholly unused to. You’d appreciated the gentle way in which he talked to you, guiding you towards a pew in the front as you asked him questions that some people had answers to their entire lives. He hadn’t treated you like you were stupid, but more importantly, he hadn’t treated you like you didn’t belong.

You were willing to bet that he hadn’t even known about you then.

Although, months later, you were willing to bet that he did now…even though you’d never told him.

“Humans are flawed,” his smooth voice reached your ears through the wall. “We all fall short—even the most devout of us—and we find ourselves falling prey to the temptation of judgment…pride…lust…”

You intently listened. After all, he’d never said these words to you before, always giving you some speech about God’s love trumping all.

“I have no doubt that it is trying, but I am sure you will come to give them grace for their sins just as they will give you grace for yours. We are all God’s children striving to lead a life in his image…”

His voice lowered at that, and you frowned slightly, looking towards the wall and thinking to yourself that he almost seemed to be talking to himself now.

“He wants his children to love one another, a feat that is not without difficulty I’m sure you know…” that actually made you hold back a chuckle. “...but God’s love is powerful and he always grants forgiveness to those who genuinely yearn and ask for it.”

At that, you did smile.

You told him that you were truly sorry for your sins, and he told you to say ten Hail Mary’s, and you stepped out of the confessional feeling better than you did thirty minutes ago. You didn’t know how long the feeling would last though, and so you wanted to hold onto it for as long as you could, but you knew from experience that was easier said than done.

You touched the crucifix around your neck as you stepped out of your building.

It had once belonged to your mother, and despite how long she’d been gone and how down on your luck you’d been ever since, you could never quite find it in you to pawn it. It was real gold—probably the only real piece of jewelry you ever owned—but you just couldn’t do it, and you supposed that you were never meant to. Despite the many years you’d lived life as the complete opposite of a God fearing woman…it felt right sitting just below your collarbone.

Even if many would not agree.

You were no stranger to several men in this town—and the ones who often passed through on their truck routes—but that had not stopped you from seeking solace and guidance from a place you’d never stepped foot into in your life. You couldn’t lie and say it didn’t feel…strange to be in the same building as some of the men you’d serviced before, their wives and children at their side as they furiously avoided making eye contact with you. It felt even worse to watch the way the women would congregate together after church, excluding you all the while talking about you.

It felt somewhat pathetic for your only ally in the place to be the priest.

Although you sometimes wondered how true that was these days. You’d never once confessed that you used to be a prostitute—although the kids called it sex work these days—but you weren’t stupid. As godly and devout as they claimed to be, you knew that the church was filled with gossip and there was no telling who’d let it slip to the dark haired man. You knew when he knew though…

…because he looked at you different.

It wasn’t a bad different—thank God for that—but just…different, and while it wasn’t necessarily bad, you still didn’t think you liked it. Confession—being anonymous—never allowed for you to tell him your name, and considering you’d only ever spoken to him once outside of confession months ago, you didn’t know if he ever knew it was you he was talking to. You didn’t know if he knew that the woman he spoke so gently with each week and listened to cry on the other side of some window was the same woman who often shrunk under his heavy gaze as he looked down on his congregation.

You never felt like he was judging you, no, but you also never felt like he was looking at you as he did that first day, a gentle curiosity in his eyes. He wasn’t your friend—far from it in fact—but he felt like the closest thing you had to one in this church, and so you often forced yourself to find excuses for it. He watches you because he wants to make sure you’re settling in okay. He watches you to observe how other members of the church are treating you. He watches you because he’s wondering if you’ll ever come to confession, convincing yourself that he’s never recognized your voice all this time.

That is why he watches you, you told yourself.

No other reason. 

“You always come to pray at least three times a week…”

The familiar voice startled you as you stood, hand lowering as you’d just finished signing the cross. Your hand was still on your chest as you turned to face him, a small smile on your lips as he stood directly in the center of the aisle. You hadn’t even heard him make a single sound, and you wondered how long he’d been standing there.

He slowly returned your smile with one of his own, although it was smaller, and the silent way in which he stared at you reminded you that he’d said something to you. 

“Yes,” you finally said, moving away from the altar. “It helps with…um…really everything.”

He blinked at you, and you noticed that a strand of his hair was threatening to go rogue. He always looked so neat and perfect that it was hard to miss. Father Mayhew was handsome—if anyone had seen enough men to know it was you—but he was handsome in a way that you would categorize as flawless. Divine even. In a way that was untouchable and only meant to be admired in the most innocent of appreciation. 

He slowly nodded at your response, and you didn’t miss the way he studied you—dark eyes drinking you in and taking note of every stylistic choice you’d made today.

“You know, I think I might see your face far more than those who have been coming here for years,” he lightly told you, a slight laugh on his lips.

You laughed with him, only offering him a shrug.

“I’m still new. I’m sure it just seems that way because you aren’t used to seeing me.”

He started to shake his head before you could even finish talking, and you watched him move closer.

“No,” he murmured—so low you almost didn't hear him. “I think you are perhaps my most…devout congregant.”

He touched your crucifix as he said this, dark eyes tracing the shape of it, and he was so close that you could smell his cologne. You blinked at the scent, finding it strange to know that he wore cologne. It shouldn’t be strange, you supposed, but you realized then that you didn’t quite view priests—view him—as human. As normal…

His eyes lifted then to finally connect with yours, and a crooked smile danced along his pink lips.

“It’s admirable,” he whispered. “More of my congregation could stand to follow your lead.”

You couldn’t ignore the way your chest bloomed at those words, almost hating how much validation you wanted from this place. Validation that you were a good person…you weren’t who you used to be…that you were worthy of something more, you didn’t know. It just felt relieving to hear such a compliment from Father Mayhew when no one else in the church would even give you a chance.

“Thank you, Father,” you quietly replied to him. “That means a lot to me.”

You watched him slowly inhale as he dropped his hand, and he seemed even slower to step out of your way. When you walked past him, you could feel his gaze on you—always watching—and you smiled when he called out to you, telling you that he looked forward to seeing you on Sunday.

No one was more sad than you when you had to disappoint him.

An unexpected cold had you bedridden for days, and while you knew that an illness was a perfectly valid excuse to miss church, you couldn’t swallow down the disappointment. You hadn’t missed a single Sunday since you first started going, and you thought to yourself that the first thing you’d do when you returned was explain your absence to Father Mayhew.

You had never anticipated him showing up at your door to get it himself.

No one ever knocked on your door these days, so the sound had taken you by surprise. Your friends—while supportive of the direction your life had taken—didn’t quite understand it and so you didn’t see them as often, and as for anyone else… Well, there wasn’t anyone else who would come knocking on your door. You didn’t do that anymore so no customers were going to be greeting you on the other side with their money in their hand and an eager grin on their lips, and you doubted any of the women in town would want to sit down for a chat anytime soon.

Your shock at Father Mayhew’s presence was all over your face.

“Father,” you stated, the lilt in your voice hinting at your surprise.

He looked just as you were used to seeing him—clerical collar still on, not a hair out of place, and a hint of a smile on those pink lips. You stood there gaping at him for all of five seconds before it struck you how rude you were probably being.

“I…I’m so sorry. Um…come in,” you told him, stepping out of the way and widening the gap in the doorway.

He didn’t respond nor move right away, looking past you into your small house with a look in his gaze that you couldn’t name. If he were anyone else, you might worry that he was judging where you lived. You watched his jaw briefly tighten, a noticeable strain in his face, and it only just occurred to you that maybe this wasn’t appropriate? Although you were positive you’d heard of priests and pastors visiting the sick before, and while you certainly weren’t on your deathbed, you didn’t see why this would be different.

Before you could say another word though, his foot crossed the threshold, and you closed the door behind him.

“I do apologize for the unexpected visit,” he said to you, gazing around before his eyes landed on you again. “...but when I noticed that mass was absent of a face I’d grown to look forward to, I became concerned.”

You couldn’t stop your smile at his words

“Oh,” you softly said. “Well, there’s no need to be concerned. It’s just a small cold that will be gone in a day or two.”

You watched him exhale at that, nodding to himself, and you studied him, surprised to see that he looked genuinely relieved at that.

“I’m glad to hear that’s all it is…”

At that, your brows furrowed, and you watched him slowly walk about your living room.

“I had feared that some of your fellow church goers had scared you off.”

Your lips parted at his words, and he turned and looked at you.

“They often fall into the temptation of judgment, after all…”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you didn’t know how to react with the knowledge that he knew it was you who came to see him once a week. You’d only spoken to him face to face twice, and you swallowed, looking away.

“I thought it would be a shame if they scared you off,” he confessed, and you noted that he was closer now. “I wondered what I would have to do to convince you to come back. Drag you, perhaps.”

You gave a soft laugh at that, although he didn’t join you, and it awkwardly faded. He stared at you in silence for what felt like a long time, and just when you were considering asking him if he wanted anything to drink, he reached out to touch the crucifix around your neck again.

“So devout,” he quietly said to himself. “It almost makes me ashamed…”

At that, you gave a heavy laugh, wondering how you could ever shame a priest.

“Why?”

“...because I see why they flocked to your door…money in hand.”

His gaze lifted as he said that, and you were still as you both just stared at each other. His words made you blink, and you were suddenly very aware of his hand practically on you. You couldn’t stop the slight frown that fell over your face, and for the first time in months—since you first stepped foot into that church—you felt…wrong.

“I see why their eyes trace every inch of you when you’re not looking…as if to relive the memory of what you felt like—tasted like.”

You finally took a step back, hand coming up to cover your necklace as if protecting it from his touch.

“What memories they must have of you…”

You wrapped your other arm around yourself, mind whirling to reconcile the man before you with the same man who’d always been so welcoming and gentle. Not once did you ever think he judged you for your past, and you supposed that you were right, but not once did you ever think he also might…

You hadn’t done that in over a year, but had it really escaped you so quickly that a seemingly devout man was still…a man?

“Father, I think you should-.”

“I don’t say any of this to offend you,” he interrupted, tilting his head. “I say it because I fight the urge to touch you every time you’re in my presence.”

You moved by him to make your way to the door, but like an ever present shadow you only just noticed, he was close behind.

“You can cover up as much as you’d like—wear skirts down to your ankle and shirts up to your chin…” his hand on the door halted your movements. 

You felt his chest just barely grazing your back, and his lips followed suit, the softness of them brushing against your ear as he spoke. That familiar cologne invaded your senses.

“...but none of it can hide the temptation you pose by merely existing.”

You shrunk away from him at that, tears in your eyes as he verbalized the same fears you had every time you walked into the building. You flinched when his lips touched the back of your neck, heart dropping to your stomach, but you reached for the door handle anyway.

“Father, I’d like you to leave-.”

Your words were cut off by your own sharp scream, taken aback by the feel of his fingers harshly pressing into the skin of your throat. His hand rested on the back of your neck, and you pressed your hand to the door when his lips grazed your cheek.

“They’re all like rabid dogs…just waiting to pounce,” he mused against your skin, sliding between you and the door and forcing you further into your house with every step. “Just waiting for you to give up this charade and go back to taking their money for a quick fuck.”

You blinked, and a few tears escaped.

“...but they don’t know you like I know you.”

He grinned against your cheek, and you winced as he lightly nipped at the skin there.

“They don’t know that you come to church at least thrice a week to light candles and pray…”

You were full on sobbing now, and you could feel the cool metal of his ring against the back of your neck.

“They don’t know that you never miss your weekly confession, telling me every time you so much as say the Lord’s name in vain.”

His free hand was reaching for the buttons of your shirt, popping them open one by one, and you gasped when his fingers finally met skin. He dipped his head, mouth finding the skin of your shoulder and collarbone interesting before his hand searched for your wrist.

“They don’t know that you are the most pious woman to walk through those doors,” he purred, pressing gentle kisses to the inside of your wrist. “...and that I just want to ruin you for it.”

When his hand dipped between your legs, you were quick to try and stop him, still wincing at the tight grip on the back of your neck. Father Mayhew made a noise of disapproval, and your hand faltered when he harshly bit your shoulder.

“We are…and always will be…sinners…”

Once his fingers were inside of you, it was like the point of no return. You found it funny that he likened the men in church to that of rabid dogs when he himself was behaving like the very thing he used to insult them. When your knees buckled, he followed—one arm around you and holding you in place while the fingers on his other hand curved into you.

Every thrust of his fingers made you wetter—embarrassingly so—and when he pulled your head back, he forced a kiss onto your lips. He swallowed down your whimpers and noises of protest, a moan escaping him as he tasted the inside of your mouth. With him so close to you, you could feel the muscles and contours of his frame beneath his clothes, and you were forced to recognize your predicament and his strength and what that meant for you.

When you were face to face with him again, his hair was nowhere near as neat as it was when he first walked through your door. His pink lips were swollen and reddened from kissing you and dragging over your skin. Your pajama top had long been discarded, the bottoms long ripped and pulled off of you. Father Mayhew’s—Charlie—clerical collar was long gone, his shirt pulled open and hanging off of him.

You recalled the way your mouth had parted into an ‘O’ shape when the head of his cock finally dipped into you, stretching you with every inch and making your heart momentarily stop. His hand covered a breast, the feel of his ring cooling that singular part of your skin, the rest of you so overheated. His other hand was wrapped around your throat, and you clawed at his hand as he fucked you.

The sound of skin slapping against skin was loud in your tiny home, the only sound to rival it being his harsh grunts and your strained voice. Any fight that you’d put up had been quickly squashed down, shown in the harshest manner just how strong your priest was. You hated how good it felt, hated that you didn’t want this but was now forced to enjoy it. Nevermind the fact that you hadn’t enjoyed sex for the act itself in years…

…but of all people to find yourself in this predicament with.

Father Mayhew’s hands never stayed in one place for long. He seemed determined to touch every part of you he could get his hands on, lips tasting the saltiness of your skin. Sweat clung to your frame and his, his fingers sliding over you as he kneaded your thighs and your waist and your chest. Every time you reminded yourself how wrong this was, he’d push his cock into you to the hilt, and you’d involuntarily throw your head back.

You could feel your crucifix pressing into your skin, and your eyes watered.

“I must admit that I was—am—jealous,” he dragged out, voice hoarse and throaty and wholly unlike how you were used to hearing him. “Your devotion to God inspires an envy within me that I never knew existed.”

You took note of the scars on his back underneath your fingers.

“...a desire to have you completely devoted to me,” he bit out, covering your lips with his own. “You so desperately desire forgiveness and acceptance…and all the things you didn’t think you were worthy of having.”

He harshly thrust into you, making you gasp.

“...and I can give that to you,” he whispered into the kiss.

The power behind his thrusts had you scratching at both his back and the floor, eyes squeezing shut at the way his fingers dug into your skin. It was like he was both holding you to him and trying to prevent you from ever walking away. Your chest arched up into his as you gasped, choked whimpers climbing out of your throat with every push of his hips. He growled against your skin as his lips traveled to your neck, the sound almost demonic to your ears.

When you came around him—your first orgasm in over a year—you couldn’t swallow down the noise it forced out of you. You could feel blood beneath your nails and a slickness on the inside of your thighs, but all the while Father Mayhew didn’t stop.

With one hand pressed against the floor, he pushed himself up to look down at you. His free hand slid up your sweaty frame, coming up to wrap around the crucifix that rested against your skin. He tightened his hold around it, and he pulled on it, forcing you to lift your head and meet him halfway for a kiss.

“I want you just as eager to get on your knees for me…”

[retiredteabag]

Hidden from sight

Synopsis: In a state of humiliation, you attempt to hide an injury from your master, Sukuna, this, of course, does not go to plan.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Foolish.

That, you were sure, was what Lord Sukuna would call you when you returned to the estate.

He was a harsh, and strict man. He never liked for you to stray from his presence too long, and more than anything else, he was mean. He said what he wanted, and always meant it.

You had begged the king of curses to allow you a day amongst the townsfolk, a day to explore the gardens outside of Sukunas domain, a day to see and hear and feel the world you so rarely saw.

The king, of course, was not too keen on this. You were not a member of kitchen staff, or a concubine, or a groundskeeper either. Like many people on the compound, you were simply a servant to the king. Yet, your relationship was not one that could be compared to your peers.

Beloved to the king, perhaps being too strong of a word. You were special to him, however. He expected your attendance at his meals or downtime. One might think you were close, but the truth of the matter was:

You hardly knew the king.

And he barely spoke to you either.

You had come to the palace an adult, knowing little of the king's mannerisms. Meeting him on rare occasions proved a thrilling experience. He was unlike any man you had ever met.

One evening, your presence was needed in the bath chamber. You had been told to assist in the cleaning of your king. Nonplussed as you were, you pled your case. An uninformed and inexperienced launderer. You were in no position to touch the king, too dirty yourself to even wish for such a position.

Having been told to never deny the king of anything he demanded, you were certain the response would not be one of pleasure. You escaped that day unscathed, a mere,

"Then depart from my sight"

Uttered from him, eyes closed, hand shooing you away.

But time passed and with the phases of the moon, so too did your relationship with the king alter. Night after night you grew more and more certain the king was calling for you directly. You grew acquainted with the king, with his bloodthirsty antics, with his unforgiving nature, with his intolerance for rebellion.

You served him through it all.

Twas' your job.

A launderer.

A foot servant for your employer.

You were sure, he would not be forgiving if you returned to his estate in such disarray. Only having warned you to be mindful a mere two hours prior, you limped from the ache in the side of your pelvis.

Your feet shook on the uneven ground beneath you. You had only just left the village you so desired to see, basket in hand full of goods to bring to your fellow maids. Evening was falling and the memory of the king's warning flooded your mind.

As you had made the trek back, the sight of a deer in the woods had shocked you. Certain you were looking at a curse, you gasped, lunged for cover, and promptly tripped over a stone lining the path through the woods.

Too eager to protect the contents of your basket your hands had been too occupied to catch your weight. You were certain there were scratched on your knees, but the real pain came from just above your hip, where an ill-placed stone had bludgeoned your flesh.

Dark red sept through your kimono, it had never looked so much like your kings. But he would not be pleased. Of this you were sure.

Foolish.

Too easily frightened.

Weak.

You knew little of Lord Sukuna's vast abilities. One thing you knew for certain was that the king had the ability to feel the souls of those around him. He knew when someone was guilty when someone was excited and fearful. He could sense it as if he was feeling those things himself. For this reason, before drawing too close to the palace gates, you steadied your heart and mind, reaching for peace as to not alert Sukuna of your presence so soon.

You went first to the washhouse, and rid yourself of the filthy clothes. After which, you were at once able to see the depth of your injuries. It had hurt, your way back to the palace, but after seeing them for what they were, you had to fight to keep the spike of panic from rising. How could you hide this? Hide it from him?

You wash your kimono of the coppery smell, disposing of it behind a pile of extra wash bins. You occupy your hands by dabbing at the open wound, wrapping yourself in a linen cloth, and dressing in one of the extra cleaning uniforms.

You were so caught up in walking in a straight line back to the estate, you almost forgot your gifts and whine out at the thought of making the trip back to the wash house. But you steel yourself and do it.

By the time you make it to the kitchens, it is far later than you intended. You simply drop the basket off on a staff table, wobbling to your chambers.

All you want is to sleep, to hide yourself from all the noises of the estate night shift, but the throbbing pain in your side is intense, and worse, you've bled through both your linen bandage as well as a laundry uniform. Even so, you are too tired to come up with a way to right this, you decide, that will be the job of tomorrow y/n.

-

Of course, when you arise the next morning, unable to sit up, you regret your choices of the night prior. Unintentionally a wail escapes your lips, the pain is so deep, so unchanging that you want to cry. You feel the humiliation once again from yesterday, what would Sukuna say if he knew of this? Would he remove you from the estate? Or would he simply look at you with disgust? Would he ever speak to you again?

Something you were sure of, at least, was that there was no way you would be able to work, bent over a wash basin, in the condition you are in. Knowing that, you were concerned with how long you could hide away in your chambers before someone came to get you.

Several maids had already come to speak through your door, asking about your trip, the basket of goodies you left in the kitchen, and eventually, in concerned tones, if you were alright.

You reassured them in a comforting voice that you were quite well but exhausted from your journey and would likely retire before dinner was served.

You had never been up however, still, the other launderers did not question your words, sure you just needed a nights more rest. There was, however, a person in the estate you could never evade, and contrary to popular belief, it was not Lord Sukuna. He certainly did not care enough for you to need to hide yourself from him, however, his loyal servant and chef, Uraume, always had everything in order and was aware of all the "goings on" that occurred within the estate walls.

Only a few minutes after the communal dinner bell was rung did Uraume arrive at your chambers, requesting your presence. Unfortunately, they were not so easy to dissuade. I have no appetite did not work, I long for rest, did not work, I tire from my journey, did not work. None of it worked. They were determined, if nothing else, to see you. There was nothing to be done.

In a grand effort, you slid from your bed to the floor, a dull moan muffled by the mattress as you strained your legs to rise but it was a tireless endeavor. Wincing, you shuddered to the door, opened it a crack to meet th Uraume's stern eyes.

"You are unwell." They announced.

You knew you could not lie, not directly. Still, you attempted to fib your way around it, claiming your menstrual cycle was nearing, but it did not work, claiming you had eaten something foul in the village, they merely squinted at you, you were blundering, grasping for straws. In your desperation, you did not notice Uraume's foot slip out to the threshold, slowly pressing your door ajar.

You had been resting your weight said door, and yelped at the pressure. The chef raised an eyebrow and pressed on more firmly. You called out their name and stumbled to the floor.

"You've been attacked?" They question but the pain is so intense you can simply shake your head, in a show of patience you rarely see from Uraume, they brush the hair from your face.

You knew they could use reversed curse technique on themself, but the management of this injury was something that would likely take time.

In the moments it took Uraume to lift you to your bed, and start to clean your wound they had you recount the story, in between each sentence you begged them to keep this from the king. Do not say a word, I beg, followed by, I pray you wouldn't speak of this, ending your story with Lord Sukuna mustn't know.

Even with all the begging, they never once promised you a thing. Pressing your gouged pelvis more firmly still, they wiped your eyes of tears. And when you finally met their gaze, their look seemed to whisper, do not be stupid. You could only hope.

-

Your hope had been stupid.

You knew it had been last night when Uraume had bandaged you up, you knew it had been when you fought to dress yourself this morning, you knew it had been when you trudged to the wash house, you knew it had been when you began to set up a bin full of sudsy water and even now, bent painfully over, scrubbing away at towels, you knew of your fate.

You had been invited to dine with the king. Once dismissing yourself for not being worthy to wash your king's body had been shockingly, acceptable at one time. But you knew you could not skirt this. You could not deny your presence to him twice.

And in his presence, you knew you could not hide. Uraume had been the one to collect you before the evening meal, washing you, clothing you, and redressing your wound. You walked with intention now, three steps behind the personal chef to the king. You found, however, that you would not be having dinner in one of the many dining rooms, but rather, in the kings chambers.

In an attempt to plead once more, you made to grab Uraumes robe, they simply gave you a look of greatest disdain, opened the door to Sukunas chambers, and bowed.

You could not meet his eyes, you could feel them as they traced over you. Despite the fiery pain, you fell to your knees. You did not speak, Uraume left, and you stayed glued to the floor.

"I hold no affection for those who hide from me."

You could do nothing but nod in your place on the floor. "Yes, my king."

"You know this."

"Yes, my king." You nod again,

"And yet-" You can hear his voice ever louder, he has gotten up from his place on the bed, coming to you, his steps echoing in your ears. "You evade me like an elusive snake." He paces around you steadily. "You hide yourself from my presence, and you beg" He spits it out, vehement, "beg- Uraume to keep your condition from me."

He has stalked behind you now, and begins to creep ever closer to your side, bending to your position to whisper in your ear,

"Did you believe I could not find you, did you think, even for a moment, you could fool me?" You cannot read his tone, nor his face, too ashamed to look.

He stretches back to his full height. "You have always been the one who's appearance I delight most in. Yet, now, you only appear at my demand. Must I demand you to speak as well in order for you to tell me why you have shamed me so?"

Shaking your head quickly, you heave, "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I did not want to- to show you-" You began but Sukuna cuts you off, whirling around,

"That much is very clear. Tell me why without the blabbering nonsense. I wish not to hear apologies fall from your lips now."

You murmur once more, ashamed, but speak up, "I am such a fool." You look up, resigning yourself, you want to see his face, "I wished not for you to see me as such. I am a weak and poor worker. Please, know, I did not mean to shame you."

Sukuna does not respond. Silently making his way to your form, "You cannot even stand on your own. Do you intend to lay there all night, or do you expect aid to be granted to you?"

He sounds genuinely curious, you are unsure of what to say, you had no plan. Your head falls to your lap but in a sudden movement, Sukuna is before you, one arm stretched out to catch your crestfallen face, "Look at me." He speaks gentler than you have ever heard.

With one hand on your jaw, and another cupping the back of your head he huffs air from his nose. "You are a fool."

You cannot look away from him, but all you want now is to hide your face.

"So very foolish." He speaks clearly, "To hide from me, to work in such a condition." Before his words even hit you, you are struck but the grasping of your waist by his other two hands. His eyes remain open but within a moment all your pain is gone. An unintentional noise escapes you at the immediate relief you are brought.

It cannot be said whether the shock of Sukunas RCT or the grasp he had on you caused you to fall limply into his grasp but you have no time to prepare before he is lifting you tenderly into his arms. An unseen sparkle in his eyes. He carries you the few feet to his bed before he lays you across his lap.

"Your condition is not ideal. You shall not work. You are to stay with me" He is petting your hair rather oddly, as if you are a wounded animal he has found.

Attempting to rise you start, "I feel- I- I must extend my gratitude-"

But he is placing a hand on your stomach to keep you down, "You will extend your gratitude by never hiding from me again."

There is no room for argument. You nod up at him. He has one arm still under your knees, another on your waist, and a third stroking your cheek.

"I will never allow you pain again." He murmurs. "Never again." His palm is large enough to cover your face wholly. "I shall keep you within my sight henceforth."

And it is at this moment that you wonder if, perhaps, you are closer to the king than you had originally thought. If you, by chance, meant something to him? If he had been worried for you. But in your dazed state within your king's arms, you smile to yourself, thinking tiredly of how kindly and merciful he had always been to you.

What you did not yet know, was that it was he that was a fool for you.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

[rafesangelita]

⋆˚✿˖° in an attempt to get sheep!reader to be more vocal about what she wants in bed, rafe only gives her what she’s able to say..

warnings: mean!rafe (?), heavyyy teasing, corruption kink (?), fingering, lots of dirty talk, praise, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, light fluff

a/n: i see your req’s for more sheep!reader works, don’t worry i’ll be working on them soon! <3

wc: 1.8k

“come on, ‘pretty, all you have to do is use your words..” rafe’s eyes traveled down your naked form, his fingers ghosting over the soft flesh of your thighs. this was absolute torture. “rafe, i can’t!” you cried, your cheeks heating with embarrassment. your boyfriend took so much pleasure in knowing that you were far too shy to ask for what you wanted, a smug grin gracing his lips as heavy tears threatened to spill from your eyes. you looked away from him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. “i won’t say it..” you mumbled, gasping softly when rafe dipped a finger between your glossy folds.

“won’t say what?” he taunted, barely stroking your clit before pulling his hand away. you let out a shaky breath, meeting his eyes for the first time during this whole ordeal. “please.” you whimpered pathetically, hoping, begging, rafe will give into your pleas. rafe shook his head, giving your side a little pinch. “i don’t know what you’re asking for.” he shrugged, his cock aching against his briefs. you drew your eyebrows together, your heart beating in your ears as you considered your next words. “i want you to touch me..” you whispered, your chest rising and falling as rafe offered you a teasing smile.

“touch you where? here?” he placed a hand on your knee, “here?” your arm was next, “..or here?” you whined in frustration when you felt his palm rest on your tummy. rafe was purposely making this hard for you, and he was enjoying every second of it. “no!” you spread your thighs in hopes to draw his attention elsewhere. sure enough, rafe looked down, his jaw ticking at the sight of your puffy folds. “fuck.” he cursed under his breath. “i need you down there..” you trailed a foot down his torso, stopping right below his v-line. rafe knew you what you trying to do.

“i don’t know where ‘down there’ is.. i think you have to explain it to me, doll.” rafe wasn’t going to let up. you started thinking of ways to word yourself, the implications of what you had to say only made you more embarrassed. ‘vagina’ felt too proper to use in this situation, ‘pussy’ was too lewd for your liking, and ‘cunt’ sounded so aggressive, you didn’t know what to make of it. swallowing thickly, you knew rafe wanted to hear you say the second option more than anything. in your mind, you thought if you said the dirtiest thing, he would have to give you what you were crying for.. right?

“i want you to touch my—” rafe leaned forward. no fucking way you’d say it. “m-my pussy?” it was comical, seeing the way you avoided his heated gaze. rafe had never heard a curse word fall from your lips, let alone that word specifically. “was that so hard?” rafe laughed, sitting between your thighs as he spread you open, his cock twitching at the sight of your glistening succulence dripping down your cunt. with the pad of his thumb, rafe began circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, the long awaited sensation making your hips roll forward. “don’t move.” he warned, keeping a hand on your hip.

you shuddered, settling into your soft sheets as rafe then prodded a finger at your entrance. he teased your slit, slipping just the tip of his digit inside before gathering your slick and gliding the wetness up to your clit. “feeling empty, huh?” rafe saw you pathetically clench around nothing, your eyebrows knitting together in desperation. “y-yes, please! ‘want your fingers now.” rafe was pleasantly surprised, the second time around seemed to be more easier than the first time you requested something. “look at you, you’re doing great, baby.” your boyfriend praised you, deciding to reward you with two fingers instead of one.

your breath got caught in your throat when you felt the stretch of two digits inside your cunt, your mouth falling open as you hiccuped at the feeling of rafe’s long, thick fingers curling inside of you. still using his thumb to rub your clit, you cried out when you felt him press on that gummy spot that made you see stars. “o-oh!” you whimpered, your thighs shutting around rafe’s hand. forcing your thighs open, rafe leaned his weight on one of your legs, and used his free hand to pin down the other one, forcing you to take what he gave you. “you look so pretty when you don’t know what to do with yourself.”

rafe’s words sounded muffled, your heart beating in your ears when you felt the familiar heat start to simmer in your tummy. your hand rested on top of rafe’s, his fingers interlacing with yours. “you’re taking it so fucking good,” he leaned down, taking your lips in a searing kiss, “gonna make you cum, is that what you want?” you nodded helplessly, in which rafe tsked. “say it. say that’s what you want.” he urged. with the quietest tone you could muster, you spoke. “please make me cum..” rafe would’ve appreciated you saying it a little bit louder, but he figured he was lucky if he got you to say it at all.

picking up his speed on your clit, he watched with dark eyes as your face morphed into one of full blown pleasure, your lips swollen from rafe nipping at them. the wet sounds of your cunt made your cheeks heat, your chest caving in as you teetered the edge of pure euphoria. your hand shot up to grip rafe’s arm, your nails digging into his skin as your thighs trembled from your high washing over you. rafe always stared at you in awe whenever he pushed you over the edge, the little sounds leaving your lips never failed to drive him crazy while your velvety walls squeezed around his digits.

“nghh— rafe!” you squeaked, a string of sobs tumbling from your throat as he continued to bring you down from your high. rafe littered your neck and chest with wet kisses, your fingers running across his scalp. you whimpered when rafe pulled away, your eyes trailing down his toned stomach as he slid off his briefs. wrapping a hand around your ankle, you yelped when he yanked you towards the edge of the bed, running his cock over your still fluttering cunt. “tell me you want me to fuck you,” he groaned when he felt your slick coat his length, “tell me you want my cock inside you.”

you were hysterical at this point, bending at his will as you did what he asked. “please fuck me, ray. ‘want y-your cock inside me!” you repeated, your back arching off of the sheets when he slammed into you without warning. “fuck, baby, you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” rafe leaned down, caging you between his arms, “hearing you talk like that, s’driving me fuckin’ crazy.” you wrapped your legs around his waist, his biceps on either sides of your head. he filled you to the hilt in this position, bottoming out as his pubic bone grazed your clit with every thrust.

your eyes fluttered shut as you held him close to you, his breath fanning against your cheek as he whispered the filthiest obscenities in your ear. nothing else existed when you two were like this. it was like the world stopped spinning whenever he felt you taking him so good. “you’re so fuckin’ perfect, you know that?” he squished your cheeks together with one hand, your eyebrows knitting together as you gazed up at him, “always so pliant with me, ‘makes me wanna see what other fucked up shit i could make you do.” he chuckled, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

rafe could see the slight fear in your eyes, a gentle ‘shhh’ leaving his lips as an attempt to reassure you. “don’t worry, we’ll save that for another day.” he pecked your cheek, his hips snapping into you faster than before. you held onto his broad shoulders, the sound of his skin smacking against yours made you want to curl in on yourself, the lewd echo of it bouncing off of the walls. soon your legs were feeling like jelly and you couldn’t keep them locked around rafe’s build. sensing your struggle, he pinned the back of your knees against your chest, getting a full, clear view of his cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy.

“ah, fuckkk,” rafe drawled out, absolutely hypnotized at the sight. he glided with ease, your folds hugging him snugly. the grip you had on his cock was enough to make his muscles constrict with the need to fill you up, your pretty clit glistening with his precum. “m’gonna need to film this next time, you’re fuckin’ unreal.” he choked back a groan when you somehow managed to clamp around him even tighter. “h-holy shit,” rafe’s hips stuttered, his face scrunching when he began twitching, your second orgasm of the night hitting you with more force than the first one.

as if on cue, rafe peaked when you gripped the knitted blanket at your side, both of you moaning so loud you were sure ms. celia, the sweet old lady next door, could hear you two. rafe didn’t stop fucking into you until every last drop of his cum was lost in the heaven that was your cunt, his eyes rolling back when he stayed nestled inside of you. rafe helped your legs back down, your chest rising and falling with each breath you took. swallowing thickly, rafe sighed as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your hairline. “my god..” he looked at you incredulously.

how you had that innocent sparkle in your eyes right after doing what you did was beyond him. “that wasn’t so bad..” you whispered, running a finger down the underside of rafe’s jaw. “no, not at all. you did amazing.” he was still inside you when he leaned all his weight on you. you always felt so safe and secure every time rafe did this. you reveled in the feeling of his heart beating against your own, your eyelids heavy as sleep threatened to come over you. “i could fall asleep like this..” rafe mumbled. you giggled, a lazy smile gracing your features.

as much as you would’ve loved that, a hot shower was far more needed. after ten minutes of convincing rafe you two should get cleaned up for bed, and after round two ensued under the shower head, you and your boyfriend had finally cuddled up under the sheets, his warm skin mingling with yours. once you two exchanged ‘i love you’s’, you were out like a light. the next morning you had went out and checked the mail, spotting ms. celia rocking on her chair with her morning coffee in her hand. “good morning!” you waved, in which she smiled. “how did you sleep, dear?”

“just fine! i had a pretty long night..” butterflies fluttered in your tummy at the memory. “oh, i bet! it sure sounded like it.”

[onlyswan]

summary: in which for you, jungkook would commit crimes and his mother would peel oranges.

idol!jk x reader | fluff, angst | word count: 9.5k

warnings/content: oc passes out in the shower / jk does something crazy i’m literally insane about this / baby bam cameo 🥺 / stitches >:( / blood draw / mention of speeding / jealous not but rlly jealous oc is pissed owfffff at the nurse who has a crush on jk lmao / jk and his mom loves them to death tho so obv who wins / love is beautiful let’s all cry <3

> in which masterlist!

note: *sitcom sound effect of crowd cheering* I’M BACK 🥰 hope u enjoy the product of my madness during finals season hehehe. and special thanks to my cutieful proofreader rio!! you’re one of my most favorite people i’ve ever met 🥺💕 + my beloveds who came to the rescue when i had medical questions !! i didn’t expect to receive help from soooo many and i’m so freaking grateful i could cri :")

—

“i ordered it the other day. how did it arrive so early?”

jungkook walks back inside the apartment, arms occupied by a stack of boxes that arrived in the mail yesterday.

he arrives at the living room, head tilting to the side in confusion when he realizes that the netflix show he was watching on the television is no longer playing. instead, there is the news channel.

he gasps.

“baby, you’re alive!”

your swollen eyes flicker up to him.

you’re lying on the sofa with your legs lazily dangling on the edge. there’s a toothbrush in your mouth, foam of bubbles between your lips, but your arm barely exerts the energy to make it do its job.

“you were asleep from afternoon to morning. do you know that? you’ve never done that before!” he exclaims, carelessly tossing the boxes on the floor. “i was getting scared!”

you only hum to acknowledge his existence, pushing yourself up from the sofa and unknowingly dodging the hug your boyfriend wanted to greet you with.

he ends up collapsing face first on the empty space you left, hurt and offended.

the bathroom door opens and closes.

he flips over, whining. “yah, we didn’t see each other for a day. didn’t you miss me?!”

still not a single word from you. sleeping that long must not have cured your exhaustion, jungkook surmises. you tend to be glum and cranky when you’re feeling unwell, as is usually the case when you wake up as unrested as before.

he doesn’t always know how to make you feel better, but he always tries anyway.

“our new bedsheets arrived!” he announces from the other side of the bathroom door, making himself loud so that you can hear him despite the shower running. “do you want to unbox them with me?!”

he allows the seconds to pass, but with his hands on his hips, he eventually begins to tap his foot on the floor.

“baby? may i go in?”

he turns the knob, just to be prepared incase the answer is a yes, but it doesn’t turn. a sad pout forms on his face.

huh? why is it locked?

you must genuinely don’t want to be bothered today.

“guess that’s a no.” he mutters to himself before calling out to you. “okay, i’ll wait for you!”

with a crestfallen sigh, he begins to walk back to the living room.

he doesn’t go far, however.

only several steps later, a series of loud crashes is heard from the bathroom and his heart thunders in his chest with a combination of numbing shock and fear.

“____, what was that?! did you fall?!”

he aggressively pounds at the door, extremely desperate this time around. he has no plans on leaving until he knows that you’re safe and sound.

“baby! open this! are you alright…? are you hurt? you’re scaring me. please, answer!”

he pauses, catching his breath as his mind runs a thousand miles per hour.

“____!”

he strikes the door with an open palm one more time, more so to express his frustration that is only growing worse with every tick of the clock. he only ends up hurting himself in the process.

“that’s it! i’m opening the door!”

he frantically whips his head around, racking his brain for the location of the key. there are two copies of it somewhere in the apartment, but in his panicked state, he is unable to pinpoint either of their specific spots. and he can’t fucking afford to waste any more time.

“ah, fuck!” he curses, left with no other choice but to give in to the instinct of breaking down the door with the strength and durability of his body alone.

he would most definitely break his shoulder first before the door.

only after the first try, that much is clear.

and so, with madness inconsiderate of his agony, he resorts to kicking it over and over again.

the repeated loud collisions rattles poor bam from his slumber. not long after, the dog’s barking creates a booming dissonance with his grunts and kicks at the door.

when it finally swings open, the force of his own body sends him stumbling on the bathroom floor, but he doesn’t waste time in bouncing back to his feet.

the twisting of his stomach is instantaneous.

there lies your naked, unconscious figure behind the glass— surrounded by bottles of hair and body products that must have fallen when your hands were searching for something to hold on to.

his voice cracks, breathless.

“baby, no… no, no, no.”

he kneels on the floor, and despite the strong urge to carry you out of there, he tries to calm down. it’s the first rule in every emergency case; professionals reiterate in seminars and news channel segments.

keep calm. keep calm. keep calm.

he won’t be able to forgive himself if he ends up causing more harm than good.

“____, can you hear me?!”

his instinct tells him to inspect every inch of you for any sign of injury, but then his vision becomes too blurry. he curses at the hindrance and forces himself to turn off the showerhead that was left running.

he harshly wipes his face, rushing back to you.

“please, please, please. wake up.” he begs.

he has a feeling that it’s futile. you can’t hear him and he’s wasting his breath. the thing is he doesn’t know what else to do.

“baby…”

he carefully turns your head over, almost relieved because he hasn’t seen blood so far.

almost.

at last, he gets a full view of your face, and he finds blood dripping. this has always been one of his most paralyzing fears— seeing you get hurt. now that it’s become a reality, there’s a part of him that wants to believe this is some kind of twisted dream.

“how- how did this even happen…?” he cries out, his own blood running cold.

for everything that happens after, his body acts on its own. bam is a constant presence in his peripheral, but he is barely in his right mind to acknowledge the presence aside from, “bam, move. daddy might step on you.”

he carries you out of the bathroom, kicking aside the beaten up door. he has made up his mind about bringing you to the hospital, but he can’t bring you like… this.

he lays you down on the bed, all that gentleness switched off in a split second so he can sprint to the walk-in closet. he hastily grabs whatever is on top of your neatly folded stacks of shirts and pants; and then a fresh towel on the way out. the gentleness returns as he pats your face dry, the pure white stained with dark red. he flips the towel and uses the other side to wipe the rest of your body, in a race against time but mindful of treating you like fragile glass.

once that is over, he dresses you in a pair of gray sweatpants, and with some difficulty, an orange t-shirt.

any person with functioning eyes will be able to tell that the shades don’t go together.

if you were conscious, you’d definitely berate him for making you wear this outfit.

but you’re not.

jungkook effortlessly swoops you in his arms— dripping wet hair, his and yours, leaving behind a trail of raindrops from your apartment floor to the cemented parking lot.

—

your body feels like it’s floating.

are you dreaming…?

you must be dreaming.

you hear an uncoordinated symphony of voices, but you can’t comprehend a word. in pursuit of clarity, you force yourself to open your eyes.

the voices grow a little louder. faceless figures hover you; a bright light shines over your face.

your senses must be playing cruel tricks. now it feels like you’re drowning, sinking into the unknown, and your body has succumbed into numbing defeat.

you want to sleep a little more.

you must truly be exhausted. it’s okay.

you’ve fought hard until now. you’ve done enough… has anyone tried in life as much as you did?

just as your eyes flutter shut, you regain sensation of your hand; a soft squeeze and a call of your name.

—

jungkook gently strokes your hair, sighing for the nth time since you got transferred to a private room. he’s relieved that all the scans came back clean so serious head and brain injuries have been ruled out. the doctor also asked him questions and ran some other tests before concluding that electrolyte imbalance caused you to pass out; the culmination of stress and fatigue from work, as well as your strong period, most likely being the main reasons. he didn’t even know about the latter until you stained the white sheets with blood.

it was fucking frightening being in the sidelines as they rushed to check on your vitals and to administer oxygen. even now, it’s unbearable to see you with a needle in your hand and a few stitches above your eyebrow. he already anticipated you not being pleased with having to get stitches specifically either; gasping and sitting up as soon as you heard the word come from his lips post-consciousness. consequently, the dizziness hits you. the doctor wasn’t happy about that.

“this is so annoying. i don’t want a scar.” you whine as you study your face on the camera of jungkook’s phone. “did i have to fall on my prettier side?”

“what are you saying? you’re pretty from any angle.” he interjects. “be careful. the wound might open up.”

you jut out your bottom lip, looking up at him with glassy eyes. the sight instantly tugs at his heartstrings, and he pulls you in for a hug. maybe he’s a little sad that you don’t appear concerned about the fact that you passed out, but god is he relieved to finally hear your voice again.

“ah, i should call the doctor.”

but his face remains buried in your hair.

“they told me to do so.”

“you should-”

“why?!” he abruptly reacts, drawing back. “does anything hurt?”

“chill. you said that they told you to.”

“oh, that’s right.” he sheepishly smiles. he can’t help but to overreact; he hasn’t turned off the alarms in his head. “i’ll go tell the nurse to get her.”

he starts to walk towards the door, but a tug at his shirt holds him back.

you shyly look at him with a scrunch of your nose. “i’m nervous. hug me for five more seconds.”

fuck, he would move heaven and earth to protect you from everything that can cause you harm.

“why would you be nervous? i’m right here.” he scolds you lightheartedly, not hesitating to seize the chance to hug you again. “i love you.”

“i love you more.”

you pull away after five seconds, and he’d be disappointed about you being too true to your words if you didn’t kiss him on the cheek so ardently.

his heart almost jumps out of his chest when you gasp out of nowhere as if you just realized that you left the gas tank open at home. your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.

“bam!”

oh, right. your child.

“my brother’s house!” he eases your mind.

you breathe out in relief, the heel of your palm pressing against the left side of your chest where your heart lives. “good… i was worried. he was probably more scared because he didn’t understand what was going on. i feel bad.”

you love bam so much; it makes him so happy. you’re so concerned about him even when you’re the one on the hospital bed. you make pretty good parents, huh?

“that’s right. he was worried about you, too. that’s why you need to recover quickly so he won’t be sad!”

—

the doctor kindly asked jungkook to give the two of you some time alone, so he’s been idly sitting at the lobby after buying a bottle of water. he’s pretty much used to visiting the hospital for routine checkups considering the nature of his job, but it always feels strange to be here for the other different purposes of the place.

is there any other building sadder than this?

if you heard him utter this question, he could easily predict what you’d say: but is there any other building with more love?

if he tries hard enough, he could listen to your voice and paint you in his mind.

you see love in every place that you step foot into.

his curious eyes continue to wander around. he spots people carrying flowers, baskets, and containers of food. there’s also a teenage boy in his high school uniform, carrying a teddy bear larger than him.

not that he wants you to stay longer, but if you have to, he writes down a mental note to bring one of your favorite plushies.

he eventually gets tired; considers scrolling on his phone again, but he decides against it when his gaze lands on a little boy sleeping soundly on his mother’s lap. suddenly, he is reminded of his childhood before he moved to seoul.

how simple life can be when you’re innocently sleeping on your mother’s lap, trusting that everything will be alright.

“ah, i miss my mom…” he utters absentmindedly. “i miss my mom so much. i should call her.”

his reminiscing is interrupted when a wheelchair rolls by infront of him. it is leisurely being pushed by an old man who wants to bring his wife outside for some fresh air.

in a parallel universe somewhere, jungkook can imagine them as you and him.

he sits up straight, looking back at the clock on the wall.

how long has it been? he wants to be by your side again.

—

“jungkook!” your face lights up as soon as your boyfriend steps into the room. “what took you so long?”

“i know. sorry, baby. i got a little distracted outside.”

“i’ve been waiting.” you pout. “why? were people bothering you?”

“not at all. don’t worry.”

you pat the empty space beside you. “here.”

“i think the bed is meant for only one person- damn, okay, okay-”

he swiftly gives in upon seeing the hurt on your face, occupying the space you reserved for him. “i love you. don’t be sad.”

you’re aching too much to wait for him to get settled. you wrap your arms around his waist like you’re a magnet attracted to steel, clinging to him for comfort.

if you’re being honest, you don’t know how you feel about being in this situation. overwhelmed? maybe a tiny bit relieved. in the past, it didn’t matter whether you were sick or not. you needed to work or else it was guaranteed that you wouldn’t survive. life is easier now. you have the luxury to use this as a reason to take a break. you have someone who takes care of you as naturally as he breathes.

“how was the doctor?”

“she’s nice… she just asked me about the things i remember before i passed out. then about my work, diet, sleeping schedule… stuff like that.”

you pull away a little, just enough so you can see each other’s face. you squint at him suspiciously. “did you have to get an expensive room?”

he chuckles. “how did you know? they didn’t tell you that, did they?”

“i literally have the perfect view of the fountain from here!” you point at the large window behind you. “i just passed out. i would’ve been fine downstairs.”

“don’t say it like that. it could’ve been so much worse.” he says with knitted eyebrows, palm cupping the back of your head and caressing softly.

he heaves a sigh.

“i was so scared that you injured your head. seriously, i thought i’d go insane if i lost you! i went past the speed limit driving you here!”

the distress he was under is apparent. you can’t help but to be racked with the guilt. you always do this, making him worry himself to death. you don’t usually do it purpose, and that only makes you feel shittier.

“you’re right. i’m sorry.”

“well, i…” he sighs. “it’s okay. i know you didn’t want this either. it’s not your fault.”

you press your lips into a thin line. “it kind of is.”

your lost eyes meet, and a connection is established like it’s a constellation sending a secret message. your heart flutters when he giggles, dimples and starry eyes and crinkled corners.

“stop it. it’s impossible to scold you when you’re so cute and self-aware.”

“then don’t scold me.” you sniffle sadly to kindle pity in him. “i’ve had enough of it from the doctor.”

your brain still works well enough to help you escape from trouble. that’s a good sign, right?

“my poor baby.” he coos, cradling your cheeks.

his hands are warm. you put yours over them; a wordless signal telling him you don’t want him to go away.

“let’s not get hurt again, please. we need to stay healthy and take good care of ourselves so this won’t happen again, alright?”

you nod in obedience. your eyes are fixed on him but you’re not certain if you’re registering what he’s telling you in your pitiful, shaken brain.

“the hospital already did me many favors. if we go back, i might have to build them another fountain as a gift.”

and knowing jungkook, with his golden heart and his black card, jokes become half-meant.

“what do they need that for?!”

he bursts out laughing, yet again, after you chide at him for his ridiculous and unnecessary expenses.

“nothing, i’m just grateful! i was really so scared but i’m relieved now thanks to them. i can’t remember the last time i felt that way.”

“you’re not scared of a lot of things.” you point out.

“that’s right.” he agrees. “only you scare me these days.”

you grimace. “am i scary?”

“you are, sometimes.” he laughs, squishing your cheeks together. “but i mean the things that could hurt you.”

as if on cue, your stomach grumbles and bellows like a monster stuck in an empty cave. your eyes grow twice its size in bewilderment, which then morphs into embarrassment.

“my stomach hurts.” you say quietly.

your nostrils flare as jungkook miserably fails to hold back his laughter. one of his hands leave your face, rubbing your tummy over the thin hospital gown.

“oh no, what are we going to do? where does it hurt? here?” he pouts. “should we go feed you now to make it go away?”

“what is wrong with you?” you slap his shoulder in annoyance. “i’m not a baby!”

“yah, be careful!” he yells, wincing as if he is the one in pain. “be gentle with the one with the iv!”

—

“you know one good thing that came out of this?” you gush out of nowhere.

you’re mixing up the ingredients of your bibimbap bowl with a spoon and a pair of chopsticks.

jungkook noisily drinks the final sips of his banana milk. afterwards, he makes a game out of shooting the box in the trash bin.

“what could that be?” he asks, doubtful.

he sits on the chair beside your bed. you greet him with a delighted grin, licking your thumb stained with gochujang.

“you proved your love. you committed a crime for me.”

he gasps to humor you, body freezing as if he’s currently processing the newly-learned information in his brain.

“oh? you’re right- i did! and you know what? i’d do it again!”

with a mouthful of rice, you shake your head in disagreement furiously. “you’re cute. but that’s the first and last.”

“but how are you sure that it’s the first?” he raises an eyebrow quizically.

silly enough, you envy him for being able to do so.

you hum in thought. “i guess you’ve stolen a few things for me, too.”

“few? you mean a loooot?”

“you’re the one who brings home food and random things.” you roll your eyes. “i never ask you to.”

“you told me you wanted the service bell!”

you feel yourself become flushed with sheepishness. he’s not lying. you’ve always found the object fascinating as a child, so you couldn’t help but to tell him to sneakily take one home after filming a competitive run bts episode.

did you have a silly phase where you and jungkook used it to summon each other just to laugh together about it?

perhaps.

“well, you’re rich. you could’ve bought me one instead.”

“but it was already there.” he reasons with a wide grin, gesturing infront of him. “i wanted to give it to my lover right away.”

his lover?

jungkook has successfully replaced your frown with an enamored smile.

“i made your heart flutter just now, didn’t i?”

a hospital stay has never felt this comfortable— not terrifying. you have stitches on your face and to add to that, this hospital gown feels super unflattering. somehow, your boyfriend’s loving gaze remains steady and you are melting.

“shut up,” you mutter, flustered, handing him the pair of chopsticks. “please eat with me. i can’t finish this on my own.”

—

“why would you let them put the needle in my dominant hand?”

you stomp your feet on the ground as jungkook squeezes some toothpaste onto a newly-bought toothbrush.

“i’m sorry! i was too stressed out so i just pointed! i think i got confused with- with left and right.”

you didn’t realize this while you were eating; that you were unconsciously holding the spoon with your non-dominant hand because the other felt uncomfortable. maybe because it was a simple task, scooping food and bringing it to your mouth. brushing your teeth, on the other hand… can be quite an arm workout.

“eeeee!”

he shows his complete set of teeth, urging you to do the same. you stare at him blankly.

“eeeee!” he repeats with heightened enthusiasm.

left with no other choice— you copy his awkward smile.

“there we go!” he praises you with an over-enthusiastic beam.

he carries on to brush your teeth, gingerly holding your chin to keep you steady as he does his job.

this is the first time jungkook is doing this for you. today is definitely not one of your finest moments. it feels a bit silly to be in this situation, and you feel bad for putting your boyfriend in this position in the first place. you can see that he’s trying his best—unnecessarily focused—and that he loves you, but you just hate giving him a hard time.

with a soft smile, he wipes the bubbles that overflowed past your lips.

“okay, spit.”

you spit out more of the bubbles on the sink. you assume that he’s finished, except he’s making another vowel sound for you to mimic the mouth shape of.

“ahhhh-”

“this is embarrassing!”

“baby, really? this is where you draw the line?” he playfully squeezes your cheeks together. “it’s almost over! ahhhh!”

and you let him do this thing, but not without a glare that is masking the embarrassing truth: you might be enjoying this more than you care to admit.

“see? was that so bad?”

as he tenderly pats your face dry in the aftermath, he says: “i’m sorry. bear with it a little more. let me take care of you so you’ll be healthy again.” and you feel every ounce of his sincerity pierce through the barriers surrounding your soul.

“stop it…” your voice suddenly comes out broken.

you want to put all the blame on your period for the tears that are now brimming your eyes, but jungkook is your biggest weakness of all and that is an explanation enough.

“why are you crying?” he panics. “what did i say?”

“it’s your fault.”

you break down into loud sobs, incapable of even keeping your eyes open. you never understood why we close our eyes when we cry, but right now, you know that you can’t bear to witness his reaction.

“you’re so sweet.”

the towel that was wiping the water from your mouth is now drying the tears from your stained cheeks.

“am i making you sad?”

you furiously shake your head. how could he say such a thing? he is the greatest joy of your life.

“no?”

“no!”

“okay, come here then.”

he wraps his arms around your trembling figure, caging you in the solace of his entire existence. a sense of calmness washes over your system, especially as he runs his hand across your back in gentle strokes. this isn’t his goal though, it seems. you hear none of his quiet shushes beseeching you to stop breaking his heart. he hopes you let go of everything that has been weighing on you, but he has already eased all your pains by loving you.

“ugh, i probably look horrible right now.” you force a chuckle to lighten up the mood, wiping your face with the back of your free hand. “i feel gross.”

“that’s not true.” he gazes at you fondly, brushing your hair with his fingers. “it’s actually infuriating how you look so beautiful still.”

“i know. i’m nice to look at; that’s why you tolerate my attitude.” you conclude in jest.

“yeah, sometimes.” he rides on the joke.

“what…?”

“i’m joking!” he rushes to take it back with a laugh. “of course i’m joking!”

you pout. “are you really?”

“oh, come onnnn.”

he coaxes you with a kiss on the lips— a good morning kiss long overdue. you’ve been spoiled rotten with affection; he knows you need more than one. he interrupts himself several times to kiss you.

“you know i’ll love you until our hair turns white and our skin all wrinkly.”

to be brutally honest, you’re not fond of imagining that far ahead. it’s daunting. you doubt your capability to age with grace. you’re horrified by the thought of having the majority of your life behind you. nostalgia has always been more bitter than sweet. but maybe this memory could be the sweetest of all, if jungkook truly stays by your side until then. in a cottage at the countryside like he said once, or a cabin by the ocean.

you’re both so young; so arrogant when it comes to making promises that are a shot in the dark. so fucking in love.

“me too.” you half-smile, scrunching your nose— a telltale sign of your joy. “now, get out. i really need to pee.”

his face becomes drained of blood. “but you’re st-”

“i won’t lock the door this time.” you cup his cheek, looking at his eyes reassuringly. “we don’t need property damage added to the bill.”

—

“did you not hurt yourself?”

“me?”

“you broke down the door. that’s not easy to do.”

you and jungkook make the best out of a bad deal. you’re squeezed together on the bed, browsing through television channels that seem to never end.

“it was easy because you were on the other side of it.”

that is what he claims confidently, but you are not fully convinced.

“wow, why do they have more channels than we do at home?”

“you didn’t answer my question.” you pout. “did you hurt yourself?”

“i didn’t hurt myself. i’m totally okay. i promise.”

he maintains eye-contact as he speaks. given the assurance, your tight chest unrestricts. jungkook is not a good liar. it’s a trait that causes him inconvenience every now and then, but it helps you to sleep soundly at night.

“should we just watch funny animal videos on youtube?”

“i guess that’s fine.”

it doesn’t show but you feel excitement run in your veins aside from the iv fluids that feel peculiarly cold.

from under your cheek, his chest vibrates with a giggle. “okay, hold on.”

as he pulls up the application, you tangle your legs together beneath the thin blanket. you hear the rapid tap tap tap of the remote control navigating the keypad while he types on the search bar, but your attention is someplace else. you’ve found the crook of his neck to sneak into, lazily kissing every inch of his exposed skin. your lips eventually trail up to his jaw. he smells so nice. you’re addicted.

“baby, someone can enter any minute.”

“i’m not doing anything.” you mumble.

you smile against his lips when he gives you a kiss as sweet as honey anyway.

“i’m curious about another thing.”

“what’s that?”

“did you cry?”

he comes to a still. the answer to that question requires a little time and thought.

“almost…”

“why almost?”

“no time. i had to bring you here, of course.” he replies.

you huff a laugh, exhaling a twinge of melancholia. “don’t cry.”

“i won’t. i’m happy now because you’re awake and fighting with me.”

“ow-”

your cry of pain is silenced when he squeezes you in an embrace that makes it nearly impossible to breathe.

“red panda!”

a squeal assaults both of your hearing as soon as your eyes land on the wide screen infront of the bed.

“i want one so fucking bad.”

the enunciated curse makes your boyfriend crack up in amusement. “that much?!”

—

jungkook opens his eyes to a nurse lightly nudging him awake.

“i’m sorry, i had to wake you up. i need to check vitals and draw blood.”

“shit, i’m sorry.” he panics.

his brain is foggy from the nap, but he still carefully sits up on the bed, wary of the iv line connected to your hand.

“i… was tired and i fell asleep.”

“it’s no problem; don’t worry.”

she smiles at him, but he doesn’t see it.

“you look adorable sleeping.”

“ah, really?” he awkwardly responds, absentminded. “it’s embarrassing.”

he stands on your side, about to disturb your peaceful rest much as it makes his heart ache with guilt, but you’re already stirring due to the absence of his warmth.

your heavy eyelids blink at the nurse in curiosity. “oh… do you need my blood?”

“yes, but i’ll take your blood pressure and temperature first.”

“okay,” you mumble, offering your arm. “it might be higher now because i’m scared.”

she chuckles at your joke. jungkook tries to share an endeared look with her and non-verbally communicate adorable, right?

“i promise i’ll be quick. although we definitely want it to be higher than earlier’s.”

you wince as the cuff around your upper arm goes as tight as it could, and you sigh at the same time that it begins to deflate.

“good, good, good,” she chants with a mumble. “it’s back in the normal range again…”

she brings out a digital thermometer from her pocket.

“you know where this goes.”

she hands it over to you, and you awkwardly place it in your armpit, holding it in place. it’s quiet as you wait for the device to make the beeping sound, except for her pen creating friction with your chart as she takes down notes.

“how’s your stitches? do you feel any discomfort?”

“it’s fine. thank you.”

not long after, you hear the beep. you return the thermometer to her, but not before taking a peak at the numbers displayed on the tiny screen. 36.8°C. you think you’ll live.

“i’ll draw your blood now.”

the nurse’s voice is sweet and reassuring, but it doesn’t quite ease the nervousness evident on your expression. your pupils shake as you watch her disinfect the area, and then comes out the long needle.

another one, jungkook laments inside.

“____, i’m right here.”

you crane your head, whimpering out his name. “jungkook,”

“it will be just a pinch. i’m inserting the needle now, alright?”

you take a sharp inhale.

if only he could switch positions with you, he would do it in a heartbeat. unfortunately, all he can do is caress your hair and whisper that it will be over soon.

“it hurts.” your damp eyelashes flutter, face twisting in discomfort. “i don’t like it.”

really, just a pinch? obviously a lie.

“hey, baby. look at the tv.”

the autoplay was left turned on after you fell asleep together. inside the screen is a puppy rolling around a snow-covered lawn. the wagging of its tail, the wide smile, and the pupils as big as boba balls: they all scream the happiness of an innocent.

“it’s so cute… i miss bam already. can we go to a dog park again?”

“of course!”

that promise sparks your smile. you turn to your side, and jungkook also catches a glimpse of the cotton taped to where you were poked.

“all done. you can go back to resting.”

“thank you. will you need to take blood again?” you inquire at the nurse.

“hm, probably. it depends on the doctor based on the results we get from this one.”

“can’t you just do it while i’m asleep? or is that not allowed?”

“baby…” jungkook snorts, hiding his face behind the palm of his hands.

the nurse laughs at your desperate suggestion. “that is honestly not a rare request, but the thing is… you might wake up in the middle of it and injure yourself. we can’t do that.”

“that won’t be a problem!” you passionately argue your case. “i’m a deep sleeper. seriously!”

“ah, thank you so much for your hard work!”jungkook intervenes, bowing to the nurse out of respect and gratitude. “i’m sure you’re busy. i will handle this!”

“oh yes, yes- thank you. please don’t forget the medicine for after dinner.”

“i won’t!”

“if you need anything, you know where to find me again.”

“yes,” he nods, chuckling. “thank you.”

“then i should leave…? but you’ll see me again later! bye!”

the door shuts, and his attention lands on your unimpressed form: a blank stare and arms folded infront of your chest.

uh-oh.

“did she seriously wink while saying that?”

“what?” he freezes, genuinely clueless. “i don’t know. i didn’t see anything. i was looking at you.”

“i’m right here- i’m the patient. why would you need anything from her? huh? why is she so excited to see you again?” you ramble angrily.

“right?!”

he climbs on the bed, reclaiming his spot next to you.

“that was weird.”

“what if she made it hurt on purpose? that…” you frown, glancing at your arm. “that didn’t really feel like a pinch to me.”

“ey, calm down. she wouldn’t.” he makes a doubtful face, laughing off the accusation. “…i don’t think so?”

you blink, exhaling in disbelief. “are you taking her side now?”

“of course not! baby, i’m just saying… a professional won’t do that.”

“why not? she’s still human. humans do stupid things when they like someone. she obviously likes you.”

“and so what?”

he grins with a spark of mischief, leaving an inch of a distance between your lips.

“i’m obviously yours.”

but you turn your cheek and your eyes fall on your lap, a pout highlighting your downcast mood.

“it’s so annoying.”

the regret sinks in after. he should’ve stuck to the golden rule: agree with everything that you say. there’s no point in having an argument no one will win. does it matter who’s right and wrong if each other’s sadness is contagious in addition to their own? your gut has almost always been right, and he’s old enough to be conscious of not allowing a stranger to put a dent on your relationship.

“are you serious? are you uncomfortable?” he tilts his head to try and get a better look at your face. “should i request for a different nurse?”

it’s quiet for a beat and he feels inclined to fill the silence with whatever enters his mind.

“i love you.”

almost immediately, your features soften and he knows your heart is also melting. the two of you bite the inside of your cheeks to hide a smile.

“no, there’s no need for that.”

but he still can’t help but to be worried. your peace of mind is his top priority. he doesn’t want you to be more stressed out, especially by things that he has the power to solve.

“are you sure?”

“she pissed me off. i need to piss her off too.”

of course, his ever stubborn and competitive lover. he sits up properly, amused and curious.

“and how will you do that?”

“i don’t know,” you nonchalantly shrug. “i’ll come up with something.”

—

“come up with what?”

to your surprise, a voice you haven’t heard in weeks echoes from the door.

“mom…?”

you’re stunned after only hearing yourself react to jungkook’s mother’s unexpected entrance. your head whips to his direction; your eyes wordlessly interrogating him.

“i need to go to work so i called her to watch over you.” he explains.

“why would you do that?” you argue with him as quietly as possible, lips barely moving as you try to hide your face from your mother-in-law. again, not one of your finest moments. “you didn’t have to. i can take care of myself.”

“but you don’t have to because you have us.”

jungkook marks the conversation finished with a kiss pressed to your temple, leaving you dumbfounded. he jumps off the bed and for a split second, you make eye-contact with his mother before he towered over her for a quick hug.

her kind smile is embroidered in your memory; a memory that wraps your heart in a type of warmth only a mother can provide.

“mom! i’m sorry. i really, really, really need to leave now. but! i’ll try to come back early so you can go home early too.”

“aigoo, stop stressing yourself out.”

jungkook receives a slap on the back, somehow more loving can scolding.

“i can stay the night so do what you need to do. you don’t have to worry.”

“it’s not only because i’m worried!”

she sassily puts a hand over her waist. it takes everything in you not to laugh out loud.

“then what else?”

“mom! what else?” he cheekily smiles. “of course i’ll miss ____ too much.”

did your boyfriend just…? to his mother? your jaw becomes slack from the shame.

“i missed ____ too!” she contests. “go to work and give us our alone time.”

you shyly smile when she transfers her attention from her son to you.

“hello, my baby. are you hungry?”

—

“does my son feed you well?”

“he does! but it’s funny- other mothers ask the opposite. are you feeding my son well? do you make sure he’s comfortable?”

you think out loud, transfixed on how she peels oranges with ease. your hands would always be stained by the juices, (and eyes red and teary from accidental splashes) (it’s too embarrassing to even think about) but hers are still magically clean.

“is that so?”

you graciously accept the slice she feeds you. she laughs when your face lights up like a christmas tree one more time. it’s way sweeter than you anticipated. you can’t get over how delicious it is.

“mhmm!”

perhaps you relied too much on dramas when it came to your expectations of what a relationship with your in-laws would look like. you imagined yourself running around like a dog trying to prove yourself worthy of their son, yet for some reason, it looks like they adore you for simply existing. it makes you feel extremely grateful, but you don’t understand.

“mom, i have a question… i know it’s probably too late to ask this now, but…”

“what could that be?”

“are you really not against me and jungkook living together?” you swallow your fear of the possibility of an unpleasant truth. “are you not… worried… that i’m receiving too much from him?”

because you would understand the apprehension. as a parent, one’s main concern would be their child. to outside eyes, it’s easy to come to the conclusion that jungkook is being taken advantage of and he’d be better off dating someone with the same status. sometimes you wish you were that someone too.

she utters your name sadly.

“he receives happiness and love from you. those are the most valuable things you could give to a person.”

she caresses your hair like she wants to erase the anxiety poisoning your mind.

“my dear, how come you’re worried about that until now? haven’t we told you? you’re part of the family. forget about my sister! i don’t welcome her negativity in our house!”

“living together is different. it’s a big deal. it normally happens in a relationship after…” the following words feel foreign in your mouth; they come out quieter than the rest of your sentence. “getting married.”

“then tell me. why did you agree to live with him?”

because you’re selfish. because you want more time that you can have him all to yourself. because you want to be accessible— the first person he runs to when he’s seeking comfort and stability. because you want goodnight and good morning kisses. because you were afraid of the risks but you’ve grown addicted to the thrill of love.

“he said… no matter how hard i push him away, he will stay within my reach.”

you hear your own shaky breathing. that moment— it’s still burned into your memory. you’re still holding on to it. it’s a promise he is yet to break and you pray that he never, ever does.

“i don’t want to push him away. i want to be within his reach too.”

you’re two people loving each other with everything within your means. after the endless pains and the deafening noise, you like to think that’s what makes this relationship worth fighting for.

“does my opinion still matter knowing that? will you let me stop you?”

“no, i won’t. i’d make you change your mind.”

if you had a machine connected to you, she would see how your heart rate has gone off the charts. but you’re known to say whatever’s on your mind and that, much to your dismay, isn’t switched off despite sitting infront of the woman who birthed and raised the love of your life.

you sniffle, pursing your lips nervously. “but i feel like there might be a right answer to that one.”

what you didn’t expect was her to laugh until her belly hurts; placing a hand over her mouth in an effort to calm herself down and keep grace.

“mom! stop, i’m so embarrassed!”

“no, ____, don’t get me wrong!”

she is teary-eyed as she gathers herself together.

“the more time i spend with you, the more i realize why jungkook loves you so much. i’ve seen him show incredible commitment twice. do you know that? first, when he went to seoul to become a singer. second, when he told us he got an apartment because he wants to be with you… of course, as his mother, i’ll admit that he’s young when he made those decisions, but he always proves to me that he’s smart and responsible.”

the urge to cry returns and strengthens as she speaks. you feel your eyelashes become damp with unshed tears. you don’t know how to act. you fiddle with your fingers. you stare at the strings and peels of the oranges you can still taste.

“i believe we both know jungkook’s personality well. he wouldn’t have let me stop him either. i’m happy to know that you’ll fight for him too.”

“thank you…”

“tsk, tsk, tsk- what is there to cry about? jungkook will get angry at me if he discovers that i made you cry.”

she wipes away your tears; however, the unmistakable scent of oranges that has clung to her hands and the affection in her tone bring forth a waterfall.

“seeing this makes me sadder.” she laments, referring to the stitches on your face.

“me too,” you babble in the midst of quiet sobs. “it makes me sad. it’s so ugly.”

—

you can’t remember the last time you felt this alone. perhaps it’s the effect of staying in an unfamiliar building of complete strangers. without your mobile phone, may you add. you managed to persuade jungkook’s mother to leave an hour ago because you didn’t want her to sleep on the uncomfortable couch.

the lights are turned off except for the lamp beside your bed, and with the television muted, you could hear a hairpin drop.

you’re alone and you can do whatever you want.

you dragged the visitor’s chair infront of the window to admire the garden like it’s a painting in motion. you watched people converse, stroll, and drink coffee. you watched them run for shelter when the clouds became too heavy and the sky began to fall. oh, so that’s why you couldn’t see the stars.

at this moment, there’s nothing left to amuse yourself with but the trembling of the leaves and the raindrops forming temporary rings when they fall in the water fountain.

your senses crave for more. you reach over and crack open the window, just enough to allow the sound of the rain and the scent of it permeating the earth to enter your room.

“this is kind of peaceful.” you whisper, amazed by the new lightness carried by your heart.

you close your eyes and you breathe in the petrichor deeply. you want nature in your lungs as a reminder that you’re alive. you welcome the cold wind kissing your face. you can feel your hair touching your neck. you always do, but for once, you’re choosing to acknowledge it. your thumb slowly brushes across the palm of your hand, perceiving the texture of your skin, the softness, and the lines. and your feet, they’re in the clouds, the fluffy slippers jungkook’s mother bought outside because she knows they’re your favorite to wear.

you’ve loved and despised this body for a million different reasons. your mind and heart have accepted defeat countless times, but your body wakes up to every brand new day without fail. your body implores you to live. did it finally give up on you today?

“baby!”

you look behind to search for the source of the sound.

you get your answer from the kiss planted on your lips.

you only saw his face for a split second, but even if you had your eyes closed, you’d know it has to be jungkook kissing you.

you can smell him. you’ve memorized the way the shape of his lips fits with yours.

oh, the sounds of his kisses too. you like to call them the butterfly call because they make butterflies appear in your stomach.

you could trace the scar on his cheek with your finger if you want to.

god, what a privilege it is to experience life in this vessel.

a knock on the door forces you to part too early. the same nurse from earlier enters and you internally scream all the curse words in your dictionary. jungkook acknowledges her with a bow and a quick ‘hello’ before squatting down infront of you.

“i committed another crime for you today.”

“huh?”

your wide, confused eyes take a glimpse at the nurse who is doing something with the controls of your iv line.

hahaha… she knows he’s not serious, right?

“what did you do?”

his smile is so big that his eyes have turned into little crescent moons. you’d make a guess but there is an infinite amount of things jungkook could possibly be this excited about.

…apparently, one of them would be strawberry cake.

you gape at the transparent box he was hiding behind his back all along.

“did you steal somebody’s birthday cake?!”

“it’s a producer’s birthday and he received lots of cakes, so he told me i can take one home.”

“how is it stealing if he allowed you to take it?”

he tosses his backpack on the couch as he sets down the box on the table. he rummages through the bag his mother left behind, successfully bringing out a spoon. meanwhile, you get your blood pressure taken again.

as he opens the box, he sends a smirk your way.

“no. i hid the strawberry cake because there’s so many who wanted to eat it.”

“are you crazy?!”

the nurse clicks her tongue. “don’t talk and stay still, please.”

“oh,” your hand flies to your mouth on instinct. “i’m sorry.”

“i’m sorry.” jungkook also apologizes.

you and your boyfriend secretly share a look, exchanging a smile that is stifled laughter inside. your lips remain zipped as the nurse restarts the process of taking your blood pressure. on the other hand, jungkook eats a spoonful of cake, teasingly wiggling his eyebrows at you. you roll your eyes and he tries harder to laugh without a sound.

seconds later, he grumbles about the room being too warm. he wipes the beads of sweat on his forehead using the back of his hand, and he does the worst thing he could possibly do at this moment. he reaches for his back, pulling his sweater over his head. naturally, his inner shirt rides up and allows wandering eyes a peak at his glorious toned abdomen.

passed out in the shower. busted your eyebrow open. front-row seat for a woman flirting and ogling at your boyfriend.

how fucking great.

“hello? i think it’s done.” you snap.

“a-ah, yes.”

you hear her swallow as she removes the cuff from your arm. she may be wearing a mask but she’s hot and red all the way to her ears. you’ve only read about it in books. you didn’t even believe this could happen in real life until now.

“i will check your temperature too.”

“go on.”

you repeat the same process from hours earlier, drumming your fingers on your thigh as you wait for the beep.

“yah, why is the window open? you’ll catch a cold.”

jungkook, yet again, steals the attention of every person in the room when he rises to his feet. his shadow casts over you as he closes the window.

“i wanted to smell the rain.”

“is the room getting too stuffy for you?”

you shrug. “i just wanted to smell the rain.”

you feel the nurse’s stare. you offer her a smile and her nameplate briefly gets caught by your vision. kang ji-woo.

“ji-woo; that’s a pretty name.” you pay her a sincere compliment. “it’s healing, don’t you think?”

“yes? uh-uhm, y-yes…” she replies, unsure and confused by the sudden small talk. “actually, it’s been linked to a reduction in stress and anxiety levels.”

“thank you! babe, did you hear that?”

“uhuh, think about my stress and anxiety levels.” he leans against the window with his arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at you.

so now he’s flexing his arm muscles. cool, cool, cool. you know he’s not doing it on purpose and his entire existence is just naturally hot and it’s infuriating.

“i’ve been worried sick about you all day.”

his statement makes you frown for a new reason. at the same moment, the thermometer beeps.

“could you please tell him that i’m fine?”

“37.3, uhhh- that’s slightly above normal. how do you feel? does your head hurt? are you cold?”

“i feel fine though?”

“okay. please take a lot of rest and stay warm…” her gaze lingers at jungkook who is blocking the window. “keep the window closed. hopefully it won’t be higher when i check again later.”

seriously?! you could cry. you want to go home where it’s comfortable. where it’s only you and jungkook and bam.

but you bet somebody would be happy if you had to stay longer.

“i’ll look after ____.” your boyfriend sighs, pulling out a jacket from his backpack.

“you shouldn’t have kissed me. what if you get sick?”

your blatantness causes the nurse to pause in updating your chart. she awkwardly clears her throat. “yeah… that… that isn’t currently advisable.”

“i’m sorry. i’ll control myself.”

you earn a glare from jungkook, then he fakes a smile which you gladly return.

“before you go, may i request for a new blanket? sorry, i spilled something earlier.”

“sure thing! i’ll come back with that right away.”

—

“she seemed happy to leave.” jungkook remarks. “i can’t tell if you were actually being nice or being passive aggressive.”

you smile innocently, taking a bite off the strawberry you stole from the top of the cake. “i’m a fucking angel.”

damn it, why is he suddenly turned on?

were you serious about the no kiss rule?

“would you rather i be the type to pull their hair?”

he shakes his head with a laugh. “but you did slap someone once.”

“you want to see me that furious again?”

“never in my wildest dreams.”

he kisses the top of your head, producing an exaggerated ‘mmmwah!’ sound that makes you giggle happily.

“here, have some more cake.”

he offers you a spoonful of cake.

no, it’s bigger.

as a matter of fact, the piece could probably pass off as a cupcake.

you gawk at it as if you’re figuring out the logistics of putting it in your mouth. his heart does a flip when you tilt your head and do your best to take in the whole thing. however, in the middle of it, you decide that you can’t, and you end up biting it off a little more than halfway.

oh my god, he loves you. he loves you. you’re so fucking cute.

your cheeks are full as you struggle to chew. you cover your mouth with your hand but they don’t touch. you’re so elegant in your ways and sometimes he wonders how you’re still attracted to him after he acts stupid.

also, plain white nails? that’s new. you always want colors.

“your nails look pretty.”

he is so focused on you that he fails to take notice of another presence occupying the room.

“your mom did them for me.”

“i figured. she wants to do mother-daughter things with you.”

the short break of silence speaks volumes. you look at him, blinking with eyes hinting at a type of joy you’re lost on how to express.

“did you choose white?”

“no. we were watching a drama and it was the couple’s wedding.”

oh, that makes total sense.

“let me guess,” he trails off with a half-embarrassed, half-entertained smile. “she asked when we will get married?”

“why would she ask me that? how would i know?” you scoff.

his heart starts at a thousand miles per hour. fuck, are you hinting at him? are you messing with his feelings again? with you, he always needs to remind himself to be rational.

“i need more time to prove to you that i’m husband material.”

“what? stop it. i don’t care. i don’t need a ring.”

your unpredictableness pushes him to the edge of his seat.

“don’t pressure yourself. you already treat me way better than most husbands do their wives.”

the pride painted on your face is unmistakable. he feels his heart swelling in his chest. has he been doing a better job than he originally thought? after what happened today, he was terrified that he hasn’t been paying enough attention to you.

“i’m so happy with what we have.”

you offer him a delicate smile before eating the rest of the cake that was left on the spoon. he swears there’s a glowing halo above your head.

could your temperature have magically dropped in the past five minutes? would you kill him if he kissed you right now?

“is there anything else i could assist you with?”

and then he is rudely snapped out of his hopeless adoration and daydreaming.

“that’s all! thank you for your hard work!” you chirp.

he turns to the nurse with a lovesick grin.

“please come to our wedding.”

the unforeseen wedding invitation earns him a slap on the chest. he clutches the affected area, wincing in pain.

he hears you mutter. “don’t invite strangers to our wedding.”

the irritated glare he predicted to face isn’t there. rather, you’re wearing the flustered smile he only sees when he knows that he did something to make you fall for him all over again.

before ji-woo left, she tried to subtly reject the invitation by jokingly saying that she’d die to go, but most probably, she’d have to work that day. you know… being an overworked hospital employee and all. you caught her glancing at you with bitterness failed to be guised as indifference. you get it. you’d hate it if another person was in your place. frankly speaking, you could be miles pettier.

your boyfriend wipes the corner of your lips, thoughtless as he licks off the cake frosting from his thumb.

damn it, you wish she was also here for that.

“you haven’t stopped smiling.”

“you love me and you never let me forget that.”

you give an answer despite the lack of a question mark.

you just made his world stop spinning on its axis and you’re not even aware.

jungkook knows the heavenly feeling of knowing that he is loved, but he has never deeply considered the joy and relief when the person he loves believes that he loves them.

“i’m so lucky. i love you.”

you push yourself up to plant a kiss on his forehead. it’s a rarity he treasures and keeps.

“i love you too.”

he cries infront of you.

almost.

he excuses himself to the bathroom and cries in there a little.

you’re so easy to love— that’s why it makes him want to do difficult things for you. like commit more crimes?

[shouyuus]

okay…okay TRULY SORRY (am not) for adding onto shirtless sleeper hc once again buuut roommate!Vi waking up hours after the encounter to an empty apartment and a lightbulb-bright idea — it’s been sooo long since she’s made you blush this hard and worried she’s been losing the knack of it, but now it’s like you’ve given her a whole new arsenal of ideas to turn you pretty pink

cue to you running into a various degrees of undressed vi in your apartment in the upcoming weeks (all instances paired with grinning, half-assed excused like ‘i just got out of the shower, i running was hot, i just got a new tattoo, i needed to check my form etc etc)

(pls everyone put ur hands together for our lord and savior the shirtless sleeper anon -- they're single-handedly feeding us all)

18+, mdni, college roommate!vi cinematic universe

college roommate!vi who walks out of the bathroom, steam billowing out behind her, a tiny pink-stained towel wrapped around her waist (it's so low it's seconds from falling off), oh so casually bumping into you in the hallway, her hair still damp and trickling water down her neck and the tattoo snaking up her shoulder, her skin gleaming with steam --

"oops, sorry princess -- forgot to bring a shirt into the shower --"

but makes no move to cover her tits. you jerk your eyes up to her face, your own cheeks burning.

"n-no sorry i -- uh, i came back from study group a bit earlier than i thought it would uhm -- i should've texted or something --"

"no biggie, princess. so, did study group go well? you were complaining about some asshole last week who --"

but you really can't focus bc did she change her nipple piercings out? those don't look like the same ones from --

"hello? earth to pretty girl?"

"uhhhhh -- sorry?"

vi has the audacity to smirk as you blink rapidly, swallowing hard, finally looking back up at her.

"i just asked you a question, sweetness. gonna answer me or...?" her eyes flicker down to her own tits.

you feel the inexplicable urge to slam your face into the hallway wall.

"sorry uhm i just remembered i've got -- an assignment that i -- sorry --" you push passed her, shouldering into your room and slamming the door, pressing your back to it the moment it's closed and sliding down to the floor. faintly, you hear the sound of vi's little chuckle as she walks into her own room, but you never hear the door close. a second later, loud rock music starts blasting and you let out a long breath.

barely three days later, you find college roommate!vi lounging on the living room sofa with a vape and what looks like fresh black boxers, the white waistband accentuating the muscles of her abs, her eyes a little hazy as you walk in and nearly drop your books at the sight.

"hey sweets -- can you do me a favor and grab that charger cord?"

you stare for a few seconds before glancing at the white usb-c cord not even a foot away on the dining table. gingerly, you reach over and hand it to her, trying very hard not to look down at her chest, at the way her nipple rings catch the dim light when she breathes in and out.

she lets a puff of smoke wreathe out from her lips, sucking in through her nose.

"mm -- thanks cupcake. this thing was getting low."

"r-right..." you press your thumbs into your workbook, the plastic cover crinkling beneath your touch; you glance up at the cracked window before letting your eyes wander back to vi, still sitting half-naked on the couch, "uh... is the fan broken? or..."

"huh? nah -- i just always run hot. y'don't mind, do you, sweets?"

you chew on your lower lip for a second before shaking your head and making your way across the room.

"it's -- it's fine. just -- uhm -- just close the window after you're done, okay?"

vi catches you eye and winks, letting out another thin stream of smoke from between her lips. and, not for the first time, you wonder how they'd taste, if they'd be soft enough to kiss.

and then not even a week after that, you catch college roommate!vi working out in her room, but at least she's got a sports bra on this time, the only thing is, she leaves her door wide opened, whereas before, she'd at least close it enough to only leave a sliver.

you catch yourself pausing at the sight, at the flex of her forearms as she curls a set of bright pink weights, at the thick tug muscle in her shoulders and back as she puffs out a breath, sweat slicking down the long expanse of her back tattoo.

you swallow.

"might wanna take a picture. heard they last longer."

you squeak, jumping back only for your back to hit the tv stand behind you, nearly knocking it sideways. you reach out to steady it, turning around to find vi watching you with a smirk the size of texas slung across her lips.

"i -- i was just --" you flounder for something to say -- you'd wanted to ask her something, what was it? "a few friends and i are going out tonight -- uhm... i was wondering if -- if you wanted to come with us?"

vi finishes her last rep, setting down the weights. you feel yourself hiss out a breath you hadn't even remembered holding. your head feels light as she makes her way over to you, leaning up against the doorframe with an easy grin.

"sure. but on one condition."

you frown, blinking up at her storm-gray eyes. but in the halfway light of your shared apartment, you could swear that just sometimes, they look like the palest shade of blue.

"what... condition?"

she cocks her head, making no move to hide the way her eyes flick from your eyes to your lips and back up again.

"don't let anyone else make you blush like that tonight, hm?"

[galaxyspeaking]

“Would you show me a friendly face, once more?” (more writing below)

It was with the familiar smell of ashes burning her nostrils that Lady Galadriel came to the realisation that there was no fight left in her.

If she closed her eyes, she could feel them— the last flickers of a fire long burning finally leaving her body. As she stood there alone, amid the smoke blackening her sight and a tapestry of bodies she could no longer distinguish at her foot, the yearning for the pale waters of the Sea made itself known at last. She welcomed it with great bitterness.  So this was her end. The daughter of Finarfin was to set sail home to Valinor. She felt him approach like she always did: a large shadow engulfing soil, corpses and hopes alike, the blade of betrayal still fresh against her skin. She could continue to fight him— she’d done so over and over again, with different faces, different blades, each trying at eroding figments of a once shared kinship to no avail. He would remain Sauron. She would forever be Galadriel. He could not slay her just as she could never rid herself of him in full, and the acceptance of this truth once made her chest cave with grief, right between the puncture points of the crown he’d once pushed against her. “Galadriel,” he greeted her. He considered her curiously. Beneath his helmet, his eyes were glowing embers, nothing like his—witnessing the change in Galadriel, no doubt. She had never given up on an opportunity to deal a blow before, and there he stood before her, tendrils of his armour reaching to her like a black flame, yet she was not moving. He took a cautious step forward. “Are you not going to fight me, today?” She stared blankly at him—through him, through what once was, what could be, what would be. “Would you show me a friendly face, once more?” She asked instead. Tired. She was so tired. As she let her head fall against his shoulder, he stood very still. “I would,” he simply said, southern vowels scraping against his throat, low, barely loud enough for her elf ears to hear. Against all odds, he had granted her her request. Stubble scratched the side of her head as a hand gingerly held the back of her neck, and she allowed herself to feel the solace of his embrace, just this once.

She had started to diminish the day they had met, after all.

[girlgenius1111]

learning curve

alexia putellas x reader [& r's nephew] r gets custody of her 5 year old nephew when her brother gets into trouble. alexia insists on sticking around even though r gives her an out. it's a new and entirely stressful situation for r, but alexia makes it a bit easier. fluff, angst, etc. this is a kidfic.

—

How was it possible? That the most ordinary of days could be just one phone call away from shattering life as you knew it. 

You should have known, really. Should have seen it coming. You were happy for the first time in a while. Happy in your career, in your relationship. Of course something would come along to change everything. 

It was a pleasant day off, the day you got the call. A slow morning where Alexia woke up way before you, but didn’t get up. Instead, she let you sleep in her arms, completely content to just… be there with you. You’d made breakfast together, Alexia’s voice raspy from lack of use, pressing kisses to your shoulders, your face, your neck, as if she couldn’t help it. It was purely and entirely happy. 

Your phone rang just after breakfast. It was an unknown number and you never answered unknown numbers but something about the call made your stomach drop. You clicked the answer button and gave Alexia an apologetic smile, walking out of the room. 

“Hello?” You greeted, tapping your foot impatiently when no one said anything right away. Alexia had put on her favorite show, and as much as you pretended to despise the soap, you were hooked. 

The robotic, pre-recorded message that began startled you.

“This call is from a person currently incarcerated in prison. All calls are logged and recorded and may be listened to by a member of prison staff. If you do not wish to accept this call, please hang up now.” 

It wasn’t shocking, not really. You’d gotten calls like this before, but not for a few years. He used to call a lot, when he first started getting into trouble, asking for money for a lawyer. At the time, you hadn’t had any to give him. Eventually those specific calls stopped. You still heard from him, but not through a call being recorded by a prison. 

He hadn’t been arrested in 5 years. And now… the stakes were much higher. 

“Hello?” The deep voice of your brother came over the line, sounding utterly defeated. 

“Leo.” You sighed. “What happened?” 

“I fucked up. I… Will wanted to start football. But I couldn’t… I couldn’t pay for boots for him. I just wanted to get him something nice.” Leo choked out. You could hear the emotion in his voice, and ignored the pang in your chest as you pictured the little boy just two years older than you, lip trembling as he promised he’d take care of everything. 

“Leo, why didn’t you call me? And ask for help?” 

“I didn’t want to bother you. You’re busy and I should be able to provide for my son. I shouldn’t have to ask my little sister for help, I should have it figured out.” 

“So… this is better? Getting arrested for petty theft and then calling me for help?” You asked sarcastically, though you understood him more than you’d admit. The need to be independent, completely self sufficient. The sinking feeling you’d get when you had to ask for help with something… you still felt that, too.

Your brother was quiet for a moment. Long enough that dread started to build up inside of you again. 

“It’s not petty theft.” He said finally. “It’s grand theft. And accessory to assault. The guy I was working with went a bit rogue.” 

“Jesus.” You sighed. “How long?” 

Another long silence. 

“How long, Leo?”

“10-15 years.” 

You could practically see the tears falling from his eyes in your head, and you knew just by his tone he wasn’t calling for money. Not this time. You could see Alexia out of the corner of your eye, hovering in the doorway uncertainly. 

“I… I signed the papers, to give you custody of Will. To make it easier to take him back to Spain with you. He’d be yours, and I know it’s a lot to ask, and if I had any other option, I would, but the only other option is putting him in the system, and I don’t want that for him. I don’t. I’m so sorry to ask this of you, really I–”

“It’s okay.” You breathed. “It’s alright. Of course, I’ll take him. Of course I will.”

Alexia moved closer, resting a hand on your shoulder once she noticed the tears in your eyes. You let her anchor you, suddenly very sure that this was it with her. Today had been the last nice day you’d have with her, and you hadn’t even known it. 

 But there wasn’t a question of whether you’d do it or not. 

“Are you sure? With your career and–”

“I can make it work.” You said. “I’ll make it work.” 

“Okay.” Leo replied, sounding overwhelmingly relieved. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wish I–” 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can to get him.” You cut in, unwilling to hear another apology. It wouldn’t fix anything.

 Leo gave you the name of the woman to call, before saying goodbye and hanging up. Even after the call ended, you remained frozen, thinking through all the details, all the things you needed to do, unsure where to start. 

“Amor?” 

Right. That’s where you had to start. 

You turned to Alexia, your face completely impassive. It was the face you made when the team lost and you were upset, or when you got hurt and didn’t want to cry. It was you running from vulnerability, and it had been a long time since Alexia had seen you make it towards her. She’d thought you were past this. 

“My brother was arrested. I’m getting custody of his son. Will. He’s 5. I’m going to bring him back to Spain with me.” You spoke robotically, eyes fixed on a point on the wall just beyond Alexia’s shoulder. 

“Oh… oh wow.” Alexia breathed, nodding her head slowly as she took the information in. 

“It’s a good thing I didn’t get rid of my old apartment. I’ll move my stuff when I get back, you don’t need to worry about any of it. I’ll move back in there and–”

“Why would you do that?” Alexia interrupted, her face twisted with confusion. You looked at her for a moment, her brown roots growing out and the oversized t-shirt she had on. It was soft, your favorite for her to wear because you loved the way the fabric felt on your skin when she held you. 

God this was hard.  

“I… I won’t do this to you, Ale. I won’t. You don’t need this, but I have to–”

“No. Stop. We are not breaking up, and you are not moving out.” 

You turned away from her when you saw the tears in her eyes, clenching your fists tightly and taking a few slow deep breaths. She was making this so hard, but you should have known she would. 

“Alexia,” you began, your voice abruptly cutting off when the midfielder gently grabbed you by the shoulders and turned back towards her. 

“No. No.” She repeated, shaking her head over and over. “Do you love me?” 

You exhaled sharply, desperately wanting to wipe the tear off her cheek. To cradle her face in your hands, and kiss her frown away. You should lie, that would be the best choice. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. 

“I do, Ale. I love you so much. That’s why–”

“Then that’s it. You love me and I love you and people who love each other do not break up.” Alexia said firmly, her lip trembling even as she bit it to make it stop. 

“Alexia, please. It’s okay. You don’t have to do this with me, I could never ask you to.” 

“You are not asking. I am telling you. I am not going anywhere, and neither are you. You bring Will here and we’ll figure it out together. Together, amor.” 

She moved closer, her hands cradling your cheeks, wiping your tears away just as you’d wanted to do with hers. Somehow, she was convincing you. Like she always did. Whenever it felt too unbelievable that she loved you, whenever you became absolutely convinced that you’d tricked her or something, and tried to leave for her. She always convinced you to stay, because she knew you never really wanted to leave her. 

“It’s gonna be a lot.” You murmured, your hands finding their way to her waist, your body giving in before your brain did. “It’s gonna be really hard, especially with work.” 

“We can do it. Together.” Alexia promised, leaning forward to dust a kiss across the tip of your nose. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to do it together, okay? Don’t push me out. Please.” 

“Okay.” You allowed, finally giving in and leaning into her. She wrapped her arms around your body, squeezing so tight it almost hurt. 

“Promise me? No pushing me away.” She whispered into your ear. 

“I promise.” You breathed the words back, knowing, somehow, that you wouldn’t break this promise. Never before had you gone back on something you’d promised Alexia, and you didn’t intend to start now. 

—

The plane ride had been long, and though you were already exhausted, you hadn’t slept a wink. You were wide awake when the plane took off, and wide awake when it landed hours later. Some sleep would have really done you some good, but there was nothing to do about that now. 

It was really an amalgamation of all of your least favorite things. The social services office was just as bad as you remembered it. Just as… lonely, regardless of how incredibly crowded it was. It was overly beige, from the walls down to the outfit the woman sitting across from you was wearing. Susan. Even her name sounded beige. Then, there was the paperwork. An endless pile of it on the desk in front of you. Your hand was starting to cramp from signing, and all you wanted was to see Will. Physically see him, make sure he was okay. He was somewhere in this building, surrounded by strangers. It was impossible not to picture him, all small and scared in an office, wondering if you were really coming for him. 

You remembered that feeling. No one had ever come for you and Leo. 

But you were here for Will. You were here for him, and it didn’t matter too much that he barely knew you; at least, that's what you told yourself. 

You were his aunt that lived far away in Spain, that sent at least three presents for his birthday every year, and three more for Christmas. You talked to him on the phone every so often, and Leo liked to send a picture of Will wearing your kit every few months. He liked dinosaurs and crafts, and he adored your brother. Will’s mom had never been in the picture; you’d never met her, never even gotten Leo to tell you her name. It was just the two of them, and you knew it was hard. You didn’t know it was this hard for your brother, though. You’d have stepped in much sooner if you’d known. 

Signing the last piece of paper, you inhaled deeply and slid it back across the desk towards Susan. 

“Okay! That’s everything in order. It would be a lot more complicated if your brother hadn’t signed over his rights. Great foresight of him, to have the paperwork all ready!”

Yeah. Great foresight. Leo clearly possessed that. 

“I’ll go get Will! Like I said before, he’s been having a tough time, but the minute he arrived here he asked for you, telling us he was supposed to make sure that his Aunt came for him if anything ever happened to his Dad. I think he’ll settle once he finally sees you.” 

Susan smiled kindly, stepping away from the desk and briskly walking down the hall. 

The words settled something in you that worried Will wouldn’t want to go with you, while at the same time, making you so incredibly frustrated. Leo could make sure to prepare Will for this exact situation to occur, yet he couldn’t avoid committing felonies? 

Before you could think too hard about what to say or do, there he was. Walking slowly down the hall next to Susan, a blue dinosaur clutched tightly to his chest. His brown hair fell messily around his head, in a way that reminded you of your brother. He was small, wearing a sweatshirt and shorts and a pair of velcro shoes. Small and scared, his face creased with anxiety and fear, even as he approached you. 

“Here she is!” Susan said encouragingly, gently nudging Will closer when he came to a stop just in front of you. He was gazing up at you with wide, unsure eyes, and you could see tear tracks on his cheeks, his eyes red and puffy. He was so small. 

It was instinctual, something you didn’t even know you possessed that had you kneeling down and opening your arms. Will’s forehead un-creased just slightly, and he rushed forward, wrapping his arms tight around your neck. 

“Hey, buddy. Everything’s okay now. I’ve got you.” You whispered, holding tightly to the little boy that was clinging onto you as if you were the last stable thing in the world. And you supposed you were; in his world at least. 

Will exhaled shakily. For the first time in two whole days, he felt just a tiny bit safe. He didn’t know you well, granted, but his Daddy had always told him that if there was an emergency, to make sure to call you. He’d taught Will how to click your contact and call. Will hadn’t been sure you’d come. You lived far away, and he barely ever saw you. The two of you were strangers practically. But Leo had always told Will that you’d come for him if he needed you. And Leo had never broken a promise to Will before… Well not until the other day, he’d waited in the office at school for a whole hour after the bell rang. When someone came for him, it wasn’t his Dad. It was a police officer with a mustache and a mean face, and all Will could do was cry, and make sure that the police officer knew he had to call you. And though the details Will had been given were few, he knew his Dad had been bad and he was in trouble. Big trouble. The police officer had sounded all angry and stern when he’d told Will this, softening only slightly when Will asked when he’d get to see his Dad again.

The police officer hadn’t answered, instead telling Will that he was being taken to the social services office, where he’d wait to figure out what the next steps were. 

Will had waited for you, and even though the nice lady had told him you were coming, it took a while. More than one day, but he couldn’t quite remember. It felt like forever. 

But now you were here, and you’d given him a hug that felt like the hugs his Dad gave him, and he didn’t feel like he had to try to be brave anymore. Your arms didn’t loosen around him even as you stood up, and Will let himself relax. Just for a moment. 

—

“We going to Spain?” Will wondered, gripping two of your fingers when you held out your hand towards him. He trotted along next to you as you headed from the social services building down the block to your hotel. 

“Yeah. Barcelona.” You affirmed. Luckily, Will had been able to talk to Leo on the phone, and Leo told him what the plan was. 

“Bar-sa-lonuh? Or Spain?” 

“Barcelona is a city in Spain.” You clarified. “We’ll go there on a plane tomorrow morning.” 

“Is it a big plane?” 

“It’s a pretty big plane. Have you ever been on a plane before?” 

Will shook his head, brown curls blowing backwards slightly in the wind.

“It’ll be fun. We’ll get snacks and… pick out a few movies to watch. And you can sleep if you want to.” 

“Snacks and movies?” Will repeated. 

“Yes! Does that sound fun?” You tried to sound excited even though there wasn’t really anything you were dreading more than the long flight with a five year old. 

Will just shrugged, his hand tightening around your fingers. You shifted the strap of his big duffel bag so it was further up on your shoulder, stopping just outside the hotel and bending down so you were eye level with him. 

“I know it’s a lot of change, Will. And I know you don’t know me very well but–” 

“My Daddy said you’re nice. And that you’ll take good care of me.” Will whispered, tearing up as he remembered the phone call he’d gotten to have with his father this morning. Leo had called you right after, himself trying to hold it together as he explained he told Will that you were coming for him. 

“I’m going to do my very best to take good care of you. We’re gonna figure it out together, alright?” 

Will nodded slowly, taking a deep breath and rubbing at his eye with his fist. “Alright.” 

You figured that was the best you’d get, for now. 

—

“Tia?” Will whispered. You turned, finding him all tucked into one of the double beds, the covers pulled up to his chin. He was so small, the dinosaur pajamas he’d pulled out of his duffel bag a bit too big on him. ‘Dad said I’d grow into them if I ate my vegetables’, Will had said. Your brother was many things, and a good father was one of them. He was giving you a huge responsibility and huge shoes to fill. 

Refocusing on Will and not how much he looked like your brother, you smiled, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“What’s up, buddy?” You asked, hesitating for a moment before reaching and out brushing one of his curls away from his face. His whole body relaxed at the motion, and he looked a bit more confident as he opened his mouth to speak again. 

“Do we have to go to Spain? We… we can’t stay here?” 

Your heart twisted in your chest. You thought of your brother's words on the phone the past few days. He’d repeated it a few times, as if knowing the doubt you’d carry. 

You can’t leave Spain. You have a career and a life there. Will speaks a bit of Spanish, and he’ll adjust. He needs to be with you, and you need to be where you’re going to be happy. That will be the best thing for him.

Leo spoke with a wisdom in his voice that used to infuriate you, but you’d decided to trust the big brother voice, this time. Because he was Will’s dad, and he knew what Will needed. 

“We have to go to Spain.” You confirmed. Will frowned, an unhappy look on his face that tore at your emotions. “I know, it’s going to be an adjustment. But your Dad told me to take you there, and he always knows best, right?” 

Will looked conflicted. “I like it here.”

“I know, I know you do.” You paused, thinking once again back to your brother's advice. 

Talk to him like he’s a person, not a baby. He’s a smart kid, he’ll understand. 

“I play football in Spain. It’s my job there, so that’s where we have to be for now. But you’ll like it, I promise. It’s warm and sunny and it has really good food. Alexia is there, and I know you’ll love her, and she’s so excited to meet you in person.” 

Thankfully, Will had met Alexia over facetime before, and knew that you were together. You didn’t have to introduce the idea to him, as he’d somehow already seemed to know it wouldn’t just be the two of you when you arrived in Spain. 

Will looked doubtful, and you could see the anxiety clearly written across his face. His features were so like Leo’s, and it was the same face your brother always had when he was nervous about something. The same face you had when you were nervous about something. 

“Why don’t you ask me questions about Spain? And I’ll answer them, and then you’ll know more before we get there.” 

Will was a talker, that much you knew. And so the questions began, about the food in Spain, about school in Spain, about the team you played for, and whether there were dinosaur toys there. Question after question, until you laid down on the bed next to him, eyes barely open. 

“Do you live in a house in Spain?” Will asked, his energy still in full force as he asked what felt like the 500th question of the evening. 

“An apartment, but you’ll have your own room.” 

“And Alexia lives there?” 

You nodded groggily. 

“Does she speak Spanish?” 

“She does, but she also speaks English.” 

Will hummed. “My Dad was teaching me some Spanish for when we met Alexia. He said your tia taught you both Spanish and that's why I call you tia because that’s Spanish for aunt.” 

At this, you cracked a smile, forcing your eyes open as you nodded. “That’s true. We lived with our tia for a while and she taught us Spanish.” 

“Is it hard to learn? I’m not very good.” Will wondered, his questions seemingly endless. 

“Mmm, not hard. You’ll pick it up quickly, especially at school and with Alexia helping you with it.” 

“Is she nice?” 

“She’s very nice.” You promised, eyes flying open when you realized you had a text from Alexia you hadn’t yet read or responded to. Will yawned hugely as you pulled your phone out of your sweatshirt pocket, and you smiled down at him again. 

“Go to sleep, buddy. I can answer more questions tomorrow.” 

With a small grunt of agreement and another yawn, he rolled over. Right into you, his head resting against your arm. It was indescribable, the soft feeling that filled your heart. Soft adoration, even as you stilled the left side of your body completely so as not to disturb him. 

You didn’t know much about kids, but it seemed you knew enough. For now. 

Finally, you opened Alexia’s text, tears pooling in your eyes as you read her words. 

Amor! I hope everything is going well. You’re doing great already, I am sure of it. I stopped at the store and got a few things for Will. You said he likes dinosaurs, sí?I love you, I’ll see you tomorrow. I can’t wait to hug you. 

God, you couldn’t wait to see her. It wasn’t very odd for the two of you to spend a night apart, but something about this felt different. You missed her deeply, fully, needed her to hold you and promise everything was going to be okay. The anxiety of how this whole new life would work was almost overshadowed by your excitement to see her again. 

Almost. 

—

Will was a pretty well behaved kid, you’d learned. Very sleepy when he woke up in the morning, but he snapped right out of it when you asked him what he wanted to download to watch on the plane. He very eagerly selected three disney movies, and you realized with a pang to your chest that all three were movies you and your brother had grown up on. 

All three were Leo’s favorites, if you remembered right. 

And now they were Will’s. 

Not being the biggest fan of crowds, the airport clearly made your nephew nervous. He fidgeted his little hands together, walking so close to you that he ran into you every time you stopped. His hand would dart out to grab onto the hem of your t-shirt whenever anyone got too close to him, and he almost cried when the security agent made him walk through the metal detector by himself. 

You figured this made sense, that after his whole world had been turned upside down, of course he’d attached himself onto the most stable thing he could find. That happened to be you. It was just… odd. Something you weren’t used to. The checklist you’d made on your phone helped, reminding you to ask Will if he had to go to the bathroom, if he was hungry or thirsty, if he had any more questions about the plane. It was more than terrifying, honestly, that you were suddenly fully responsible for this small boy. 

There was stress, of course. But there was also something so… incredibly different in the way Will pressed his face to the glass of the plane window, staring wide eyed as the plane took off. For every moment you worried you were messing up, even in the first 24 hours, there were 10 moments where Will rested his head against your shoulder or reached for your hand, or offered you one of his animal crackers with a smile that had you convinced that for your nephew, maybe you could do this. 

—

“I can walk, Tia.” Will mumbled, squirming slightly in your arms. 

You chuckled, rubbing his back softly. “It’s okay, buddy, it’s crowded and I know that makes you nervous.”  

You’d picked him up a moment ago, after noticing how terrified he looked at the massive crowds making their way through the airport. It was a struggle to wrangle both of your bags in one hand, while holding Will in the other, but you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable. You took two steps towards the exit before you had to stop and readjust, wishing you had another pair of hands here to help. 

Alexia had texted that she was there, and though you’d assumed that meant she was outside in her car, your eyes met hers across the bustling baggage claim before you had to take another step. 

Your whole body practically sagged with relief, your bags falling to the ground where you stood as Alexia made her way over to you both, a concerned and sympathetic smile on her face. 

“Mi amor,” she greeted, softly kissing your temple and pulling you into as much of a hug as she could manage with Will still in your arms. 

“Hi.” You choked out, almost in tears at the sight of her. Here, in front of you, at the perfect time. With a smile on her face, already reaching for your bags. 

“Hi, Will.” She said gently. 

Will peaked out from where his face had become hidden in your neck, relaxing a bit when he saw the semi familiar face. 

“Hi.” He whispered back, turning his face back in towards you and shutting his eyes. 

“He’s tired.” You explained, but Alexia just waved you off, beginning to lead you from the airport to the parking garage. It was much easier now that you only had to worry about carrying Will, who was quickly becoming dead weight in your arms as he drifted off. 

“Of course he is, it has been a long few days. I bet you’re exhausted too. We can go home and go right to sleep, sí? We can worry about anything else tomorrow.” 

You nodded your agreement, not even wanting to contemplate the state of your to do list at the moment, though it was getting harder and harder to ignore. 

As you arrived at the car, you shouldn’t have been surprised by the car seat perfectly installed in the back of Alexia’s car. You’d mentioned needing one to her, but for some reason… you half expected her to forget. Or get the wrong one. You weren’t sure why, but it was just something that you thought you’d have to do. 

Yet when you opened the door to the back seat, it was all done for you. The perfect size for Will, buckled in correctly and everything. You carefully deposited him in the seat and buckled him in, before turning to Alexia, once again with tears in your eyes. 

“Thank you for getting that.” You mumbled, shutting the car door as quietly as you could. 

“Of course.” Alexia said easily, her lips curving into a smile as she opened her arms for you. You practically collapsed into them, gripping tight to your girlfriend as she did the same to you. 

“I missed you so much.” You cried. 

“I missed you too, mi amor. You have no idea.” Alexia whispered back, her hand threading through your hair as she just held you for a moment. Eventually she leaned down to press her lips to yours. You kissed her back, taking in the feel of her hands as they cupped your jaw, her fading blonde hair tickling the side of your face. 

When you pulled back from the kiss, she was still gazing at you so lovingly it made your heart burst. 

“Let’s get you both home.” She suggested, and you nodded your agreement, needing nothing more than to be home in that moment. 

—

The relief you felt when you finally stepped back into your apartment wasn’t complete relief. Because you were home, but everything was different. There was a whole other person that had to fit into your life now, and you didn’t even know where to begin carving out a space for him. There was figuring out a school that could accommodate a five year old that spoke very little Spanish. Then there was finding childcare for when training didn’t perfectly align with school, or when the team was traveling. Would you bring Will with for away games? 

The issues you needed to address were seemingly endless, but most urgently was that the extra bedroom was not fit for a child. It had a double bed, which would work for now, but didn’t leave much room for anything else. What did a kid even need in his bedroom? 

Toys, of course. 

Books. 

A desk? 

A dresser? Or would the closet be enough? 

God he would need more clothes. 

And food that he'd like to eat. 

And shampoo and conditioner for kids. Those were different from adult hair products, right? 

That was most urgent, you decided. Making your home a home for him. 

“We should go shopping tomorrow.” You murmured, shifting Will in your arms a bit as you headed for the guest bedroom. He’d fallen asleep in the car and it was night, so it made sense for him to keep sleeping. 

What time did kids his age go to bed? 7? 8? You had no idea. Another question to answer. 

With a gentle hand on your back guiding you down the hall, Alexia hummed in agreement, but you missed the small smile on her face. “I bought a few things.” She reminded you. 

Your assumption was that a few things were a pair of pajamas, a new toy. A book, maybe? But when Alexia stepped around you to push the bedroom door open, your jaw dropped. 

A few things, apparently, was an entirely redecorated room. A beautifully redecorated room. The walls were no longer white; instead they were painted a soft green. A wooden twin bed sat in the corner, a green canopy hanging the tall headboard and footboard. The bed was covered in a green comforter, a soft throw blanket, and 4 different pillows. A long shelf sat just under the large window, filled with toys and books. There was a separate toy box next to the bookshelf, overflowing with even more toys; cars and books and dolls and stuffed animals. Everything. Wall decor, a rug, a dresser, a cozy chair in the corner next to a lamp. 

Alexia had thought of everything. And if you’d had any doubts about her dedication to this, to you, to Will, you no longer did. Alexia had done what you’d been too preoccupied to think of and made Will a space that was entirely his own, a place he could feel safe and comforted. She’d made your home his home without a second thought. 

Without a word, you walked further into the room, choking back a sob as you laid a still sleeping Will down carefully on the bed. He shifted in his sleep, snuggling close to the soft pillows as you draped the throw blanket over him. 

When you finally turned back towards your girlfriend, she was hovering in the doorway, chewing on her bottom lip as she gazed at you worriedly. 

“Too much?” She whispered. 

You barely held back the scoff that would have been much too loud, crossing the room quickly and throwing your arms around her. 

“No. Perfect. You're perfect. Thank you.” You mumbled into her neck, pressing kiss after kiss to the skin you found there. Alexia tightened her hold, walking the two of you backwards and out the door so you didn’t wake Will. 

“Are you crying?” Alexia asked, her thumb tracing across your cheek bone as she leaned back from your embrace. 

You sniffled pathetically, leaning back in to press your forehead to Alexia’s chest and steady yourself. 

“I was just so overwhelmed and you did this and it’s perfect Ale. Thank you. Thank you.” 

Alexia pressed a kiss to the top of your head, squeezing you tightly. 

“You don’t have to thank me. I promised, no? I’m here. We are doing this together.” 

“I love you.” You cried, overwhelmed with love and wonder at what an incredible person your girlfriend was. You’d already known, but she always found a way to surprise you, doing something so absurdly kind and thoughtful that you were struck all over again with how good she was. 

“I love you too.” Alexia replied, swaying the two of you back and forth gently. 

There were still a lot of unknowns. A lot of problems to solve and things to figure out. But you’d never been more sure that you could do it. It wasn’t ideal, but you had Alexia and that was certainly ideal. 

—

JUST finished this so PLEASE tell me if you catch a typo also planning more parts to this but i'm VERY open to ideas if you have them :)

[bi-writes]

thinking about crushing on johnny and not realizing you needed permission to approach him. (18+, dark content)

you haven't seen him here before. he's new, and he's fucking beautiful, and you wish he would just look over here so you can find out what he looks like when he undresses you with those blue eyes.

he's hunched over a pint in the back, and he laughs with friends of his. when he smiles, you lean over, resting your chin in your hand when you admire his wide smile and nice teeth. he hasn't shaved today, but the five o'clock shadow suits his pretty face. you want to reach over and run your fingers over the curls of his dark hair that fall over his face. his hairstyle is a little grown out, but the sides have been kept short, with the longer pieces falling over the back of his neck and along his forehead effortless.

he probably rolled out of bed to come here, and he still looks good enough that you want to take pictures of him like this. you want to know what it feels like to kiss him. you want to cup those plump cheeks and kiss his soft mouth, and just hearing his laugh even from this far away, you know he's full of life and fun and--fuck.

you need to go over there before he leaves. before you regret it.

you slip off the barstool that you were seated at, brushing off the front of your jeans. you fix the straps of your bra, satisfied with the bounce of your tits on display, and when you look up again, he's looking at you.

those blue eyes are trained right on your figure, and you suck in a breath when you see his gaze drop, moving up, lingering on your hips and the way your cleavage looks in that shirt before settling back on your face.

he grins, right at you, wide and knowing, and you swallow hard when he winks. he picks up his drink and takes a long sip, and you're transfixed on watching him swallow and the bob of his adam's apple when you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight--someone's behind me.

you jump a little when someone hums behind you. a voice you don't recognize, a stranger, but you can feel the warmth of them at your back, and it unnerves that they remain utterly silent for a few agonizing moments.

you see blue eyes watching, looking over your shoulder, and you think maybe he knows you're uncomfortable, that he'll do the gentlemanly thing and come to your rescue--please come help me--but instead he sees something, and something flashes in his eyes. he looks, suddenly, like a puppy being scolded, and there's a pout on his lips as he averts his gaze to his drink and turns his body just that much away from you.

"y'like johnny, luv?"

you turn sharply, stepping back, and you nearly trip into the chair at your side when you see what's behind you. a hulking, masked man, large and imposing, staring down at you with his eyes narrowed accusingly.

he's wide. broad shouldered and tall, and even though he wears layers that cover what you guess are solid muscle hardened by laborious work, he is not made any smaller. all you can see of him are his dark eyes, but even those are terrifying because there is nothing in them at all.

you wonder, for a moment, if maybe he's not real. you have to be seeing something made up. a phantom. some kind of ghost.

you steel yourself after the initial surprise, and then you frown. your voice is a little shaky, but you say with as much force as you can, "excuse me?"

the narrow of his eyes softens just a bit. he tilts his head to the side as he looks down at you, and even though his eyes only flicker once, you know his gaze dropped. he takes a peek down your shirt, and you want to roll your eyes.

ghost or not, all men are the same.

"johnny." he nods his head behind you, and when you look back, the pretty one is looking at you, soft eyes shining as he stares at the pair at a distance to him. you notice his foot tapping on the floor, his leg shaking a bit. he's fidgety, nervous maybe, but you don't know why. you turn back around and face the big man again.

"do you know each other?" you ask, raising a brow. you don't know this man, either of them, but it strikes something sour in your mouth at the thought of some man trying to keep you from another--fucking strangers, playing hot potato with a woman? gross.

he snorts, and his shoulders shake a little, as if he laughs. "could say tha'," he murmurs, glaring right down at you, taking a step closer. you move your head back, feeling cornered, but you try not to panic. the bar is full of patrons, the music is lively--even someone as terrifying as this one wouldn't try anything with a room of witnesses, would he?

"look, i don't--"

"think he fancies you, too, sweetheart." his voice is so gravelly, deep, he's saying it with the low of his chest. and you can't tell if he sounds jealous or curious or excited, because he keeps his emotions in check, but at the thought of that pretty boy liking you, you keen. you turn your head again to look at him, catching his blue eyes again, and you smile. all glittery, all soft, and he smiles back, and you want to bounce on your feet.

your head turns back quick when you feel warm hands on your face. your giant has put a few of his fingers on your chin, and he turns your head back to face him, clicking his tongue.

"don't look at him, look at me," he mutters. you blink, not sure how to decipher his mood, and he steps even closer, leaning into your space. "johnny's mine."

your heart drops in your chest. you swallow hard, and you blink again, and you know your eyes are glossy from embarrassment and shame. of course this pretty man is taken--of course he is. it isn't fair, and it upsets you, but your lip trembles a little.

"fuck, i--" you gasp a little. "fuck, i-i'm sorry. i didn't..." you bite your lip. "i-i swear, i-i--"

"johnny's mine," he growls, and you tense when you feel the warmth of his breath through the mask, against your mouth. "and 'm not one to share. but johnny's been such a good boy..." your eyes flutter a little when his hand falls from your chin, smoothing over the soft skin of your neck as he grips you there gently. he clicks his tongue when you lean into him, almost instinctively. "'n you're a pretty prize. just how he likes 'em."

"huh?"

"all soft...such a nice arse," he sucks on his teeth, humming. "can see your tits so nice, luv. wanna see more of 'em."

your eyes widen, and he laughs, and it's insane and cruel, but your legs come together anyways, and you squeeze them there. you're wet. you know you are.

"he likes a sweet pussy, too, luv, got one of those?" he's closer now, growling into your ear, and you close your eyes.

"i-i...i--"

"fuck, haven't even gotten you home, and you're already so dumb," he mutters. he lets go of you, gripping you by the shoulders and turning you around. you stumble in your boots, swallowing, in a daze, and he urges you forward. "go on. sit next to johnny, sweetheart."

your legs move on autopilot, and you shuffle your way over to the table, and as you get closer, the chatter quiets just a little. johnny perks up a little when he sees you, and he moves over in the booth, giving you room, and you greet the table a little shyly before taking a seat. johnny is warm, too, radiating triumph. you smile wide, but just as you get comfortable, big hands grip your waist and lift you. you squeak as you're seated right on your giant's lap, your legs bracketing his big thigh as your back sits flush against his chest.

"got yourself a bird there, ghost?" one of them chuckles. he's stunning, all dark-skinned and wide smiles, and you know he must be their good friend because he doesn't question the way ghost has simply carried you there, sat you down with them, when supposedly he was already with someone else.

ghost hums, and you suck in a sharp breath when his hand wraps around your waist and tugs, forcing your ass right up against his middle. you put your hand over his, your fingers stroking the back of his hand. this isn't right, you know it isn't, but something feels good about it. you're normally worried about being too big to sit on anyone's lap, but he's a fucking bear, and you know he can take it.

you know he can take it.

"you like it, johnny? like what i brought you?" ghost asks, and he asks it like you're not there. you turn your head, and your eyes linger on the way ghost has his arm strewn along the edge of the booth behind him, around his shoulders. his gloved hand reaches up, and you swallow when you notice him playing with the ends of johnny's hair, the curls you know are soft, that would be nice to tug on. johnny smiles, and you see him up close now, and his lips are soft--and by the look on his face, he does like them sweet, and you know he eats pussy like they're last meals.

you know he does.

you hold in a soft sound when you feel a warm hand on your thigh, wrapping around the meat of it and squeezing.

"ohh, i like 'er, LT. like 'er a lot."

next part

[luveline]

hey!! I'd love to see one where maybe jack and hotch try speaking to the baby in pregnant!reader's tummy :))

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

You sniff Aaron’s hair. It’s your right as his wife to enjoy his smells. You’re too tired for subtlety. “You know how many weeks I am today?” you ask. 

You’re in a bubble together. Aaron answers with his usual calm tenor. “You are twenty seven weeks today, honey.” 

It’s endearing that he knows. It’s nice to have found a good one. To never have to worry about compassion or care. Which isn’t to say he’s perfect, he makes wrong decisions, and he disappoints you sometimes, but still, he’s a good one. You aren’t perfect either and you don’t have to be, all you need to do is love and respect one another as much as is physically possible, and you do.  

“Mm,” you hum, drawing a heart into his arm, “and you know what they say around this time?” 

“I’m not sure.” 

“She can hear you, if you want to talk to her.” 

“Really?” 

“That’s what I read earlier on. That if you talk to her through my stomach, she can probably hear your voice. By full term she’ll have hearing like me and you.” 

“Is that true?” he asks, resting his hand on your bump. Sometimes when the baby is in a bad mood and her foot feels like it’s making a bruise through your skin, all Aaron has to do is touch you, and she stops. 

“Well, according to the baby book. They say by twenty nine weeks it’s a sure thing.” 

“Can I speak to her?” 

You brush through his hair with your pinky nail. “Sure, sweetheart. You can talk to her all night long, I’m sure she’d love to hear your voice.” You push the hair from his forehead. “I like hearing you talk.” 

“Lay back,” he says. 

Aaron sits up and you lay down, your head in the pillows, your pregnancy cushion a support on your left side. He slides your t-shirt up slowly as though giving you time to say no. He begins to rub slow circles around the bump, before laying his head flat to he bed, his lip less than two inches from your distended tummy. 

“Hi, baby,” he says, unabashed. “How are you feeling?” 

You laugh. He peeks up at you. 

“Sorry, it’s just funny.” 

“It’s okay. I’d laugh if you started asking my stomach questions too…” He smiles. “But my baby’s in there, so you’ll have to forgive me.” 

“I won’t laugh again, promise.” 

“It’s fine if you do. I’m finding it hard to take myself seriously.” He slows his rubbing. “Baby, if you can hear me, please say hi… I love you. I’m so happy you’re getting bigger.” 

The longer he talks, the less funny it becomes. His melodic murmuring turns praising, he talks of you and Jack and every amazing thing waiting for the baby in the world when she’s done cooking. He tells her he loves her, loves you, that she’s beautiful even though she’s shaped like a GMO kidney bean. He’s totally relaxed. You fall in love with him all over again. 

“And it looks like your big brother wants to say hi too,” he says. 

You perk up. Footsteps rush down the hall to the master bedroom, and a knock echoes fast. Jack doesn’t wait for an answer, bursting in with a happy gasp. “I knew you were still awake,” he says. “Please can I come watch TV with you?” 

“Sure, buddy, but we aren’t watching anything right now,” Aaron says. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m talking to your sister.” 

Jack leans against the bed, fingers screwing in Aaron’s shirt unthinkingly. “You are?” 

“I read in my book today that she can maybe hear you when you talk to her,” you tell him. “Would you want to talk to her, bud?” 

“Can I?” 

“Sure. I don’t mind. I’d love for you to say hello, ‘cos how special is that? For the last few weeks, all she’s been able to hear is me. She doesn’t know she has a whole family waiting for her.” 

Aaron straightens and helps Jack climb onto the bed. He settles at the pillows with you, leaning down briefly to kiss you, lips misaligned but no less gentle. 

“What do I say?” Jack whispers, putting his hand carefully on your bump. 

“You can say anything you want,” you whisper back. “You can say hi, or you can tell her something. The best thing about babies is that we get to teach them about everything.” 

“Okay, um… well,” —he braces himself with two hands on your tummy and leans in— “you can’t see, but we have a dad with brown hair and brown eyes, and we have a super pretty mommy who smiles all the time at me…” Jack’s cheek tips toward his shoulder. “On Sunday they take me to the library and we stay there all morning. And for dinner we always have, um, one hand of vegetables and one hand of chicken, or pork, or pasta. But it’s okay if you can’t finish everything.” 

He looks at his father. “Is that okay?” he asks. 

Aaron offers his hand. “Buddy, that’s perfect. You can tell her anything that you want. She just wants to hear your voice.” 

“Can I tell her about teenage mutant ninja turtles?” 

You laugh. “Sure,” Aaron says. 

Jack starts to talk about Donatello. You try not to laugh as his little hands tickle you, turning your face into Aaron’s side. 

“I have so many things to say to you right now, but I’m worried it’s too saccharine,” he says. 

“Save them for later,” you say, hugging his waist. “Can I nap here? Would you rub my arm?” 

Aaron rubs your arm as you’ve asked. You fall asleep to the sound of your stepsons mumbled rambling and Aaron’s occasional breathy laugh. 

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | sharing a bed

♡ fandoms; The Boy, Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), House of Wax, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Vincent Sinclair

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; very suggestive content, implied smut

♡note; swapped out billy in this one bc i can’t imagine him sharing a bed with someone and not getting literally pornographic

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Brahms Heelshire

> Once he decides he wants to share the bed, he finds the biggest guest room bed and brings all of the comfiest pillows and blankets he can to make it perfect

> For you more than him, but he doesn’t feel too hurt when you push half of them to the foot of the bed

> It was a lot even for a king bed

> You’re reluctant at first, not used to sharing a bed

> But you find he’s very hard to say no to once you’re in that deep

> He tries to give you space, but it’s not long before he’s wrapped around you, clinging for dear life

> And he almost immediately falls asleep like that, head tucked into your chest

> You sigh and try and relax, petting his hair

> And you fall asleep with your hand still tangled in his black locks, holding him close to you

> You wake up to him nuzzling your neck and practically whining

> “Baby…wake up…”

> You’d ask him what the problem was…if you couldn’t feel it against your leg

> You spend most of the morning still in bed, lazily fixing his predicament

Micheal Myers

> He doesn’t get why you want him to do this

> You know he doesn’t cuddle

> You know he usually gets restless and wanders at night

> But there’s no reason to say no, and even he can’t stand how sad your pout is

> You hum and stretch, tucking yourself in and look at him expectantly

> He takes off his boots and lays on top of the covers beside you, stiff as a board

> You have to coax him to even take the mask off, but he still won’t relax

> You quickly realize he’s used to high security psych ward bunks, not big comfy queen beds full of stuffed animals

> “…do you…wanna sleep on the floor?”

> He pauses.

> Shakes his head and closes his eyes.

> After you finally fall sleep, he sits up, intending on leaving

> But you look so peaceful…he can’t help to stay and watch you. Just for a little while.

> When he touches your cheek, you press into his hand. Maybe a while longer.

> When you wake up he’s still staring at you, hand long gone from your cheek

> But once you blink awake, it creeps somewhere else..

Thomas Hewitt

> He’s almost nervous of the idea

> Y’all are certainly intimate with each other - just as intimate as you would be if you were married like his mama was planning

> But what if the family noticed you were in there? He’d kill Hoyt for calling you anything nasty-

> When he sees you in skimpy PJs, he immediately forgets his worries

> He has a huge bed because he’s a huge guy, so when you curl up in it alone, it’s almost comical

> He’s staring at you as he climbs in after you, cautiously removing his mask

> His shoulders relax a little when you smile up at him, still so amazed you can stand to look at him

>“Hold me?”

> He grunts and takes no time in pulling you flush, spooning you. He’s more relaxed than he’s been in a while, sure he’ll fall asleep in no time

> Until you give a tiny sigh and shift your hips, innocently adjusting

> It doesn’t take much for you to set him off- he’s touch starved and obsessed with you.

> Along with feeling him against your ass, you can literally hear his breathing change.

> “…Tommy baby? Want me to take care of that?”

> It takes another two hours before you fall asleep, both sticky with sweat and sated, your head laying on his broad chest.

Bubba Sawyer

> He’s so happy to have a sleepover- even if you live right down the hall in the same house (I cannot imagine you dating him and being allowed to leave the farm tbh)

> He gives you an updated tour of his room- he’s very happy to show you the collection of polaroids of you he hung up.

> You were wondering where those went

> Finally he drops you on the bed, giggling quietly

> It’s old but comfy, and he has plenty of stolen pillows and blankets, and even some stuffed bears

> He strips right on down to his heart boxers, leaving his mask on for last

> He takes it off slowly, giving you that shy look he always does

> You grin and open your arms and he’s more than happy to scoop you up with a coo.

> By the time you’re settled, you’re curled around his back

> He loves being the little spoon, even if he’s a big brute

> When you wake up he’s bursting back into the room with some slightly burnt toast for breakfast

> It’s a sudden wake up call, but a welcome one

> And you repay him in tons of kisses, all over

Vincent Sinclair

> Like some of the others he’s hesitant

> But you want him to relax, he’s been working so hard- so you take him away from the studio, and into your room

> You’re not even letting him so much as sketch until he sleeps

> He tilts his head and is almost pouting, trying to guilt you - even more so once you help him remove his wax

> Until you coax him into his stomach so you can massage his back, that is

> You’re clumsy and certainly not a professional, but your hands on him is enough to melt away the stress

> He suddenly rolls over and grabs your hips as he hears you yawn

> It’s your turn to pout down at him

> But eventually you relent and let him cradle you close to his chest as he hums a nonsense lullaby

> You keep him trapped in bed the next morning as revenge, again straddling him before he can get up to leave

> But this time, you’re most certainly not yawning

[suksatoru]

𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝑒𝓂𝓅𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈.

╰┈➤ sukuna! x reader! ೃ⁀➷

synopsis; you'd gone to bed the previous night with yuji, and unknowingly found yourself cuddling the king of curses when you wake up. pt.2!

previous | next

ೄྀ ࿐ fluff, sukuna is a little obsessed with yuji's girlfriend! ˊˎ

Yuji had been feeling tired lately.

He'd been going to bed at his usual times - 10 PM he'd be at your door with a pillow tucked under his arm, a grin on his face when you peeked through the open door awaitingly.

Sometime's Yuji would find himself falling asleep in class - luckily he had you to poke him with your pencil or nudge him with your foot whenever his eyes closed for a beat too long

Unbeknownst to Yuji - the King of Curses would be switching places with him when the night came, using the teenage boy's body to go on nightly quests of his own.

Sukuna wanted to let his presence be known to the whole world - have everyone near him fall to their knees, but he wasn't strong enough yet to do that. So he remained on the low- going on nightly killing sprees to relieve the pent up frustration of being unable to pursue his bigger plans.

He's trudging back into your apartment - battered and bruised but happy with the lives taken that night, he's kicking off Yuji's boots as they land with a dull thud near you neatly placed pink sneakers.

His feet are finding the familiar path to your room - his limbs aching but satisfied as he finds himself looking forward to laying beside you.

No - he's not looking forward to laying beside you. He can't be. He scowls quickly at the thought before inwardly groaning as he realizes his own weakness. Yuji Itadori's little girlfriend - a sweet thing with the most infuriating smile. He was looking forward to laying beside you, that was the truth.

It's not like anyone would learn about his little obsession with you anyways - and it's not like you even knew the King of Curses was the one laying beside you these past few weeks - the one who cradled your head against his chest and ran his fingers down your spine.

But he should've thought about all the possibilities - known that at some point, you'd wake up to a empty bed while he was out.

Of course that possibility had to be tonight. He was already so tired - in fact, he was looking forward to your soft bed and grabby hands running over the expanse of his back tonight. Did your curious little mind had to get up and look for Yuji when you woke up to an empty bed?

He hears your bedroom door creak - and for the first time this night, his heart lurches as his hand slams over the light switch in the hall. You're rubbing your eyes as you open the door, a confused hmm is all he hears in the darkness as Sukuna swiftly makes his way to you.

Dammit if you figure out who he is tonight, he doubts his little sessions of using Itadori's body for his own selfish purposes will last.

He's grabbing onto your arm, tugging you back into your room with quick strides. Shit. He'd taken on some strong forces tonight - battling with no mercy and a precision as sharp as glass. But you fully awakening and realizing his true identity was the thing to make his heart pound so fast like this.

"Yuji - sweetie, where were you?" You yawn, but you let out a sound of surprise as your back falls onto the mattress. Yuji - no, Sukuna plopped you onto the bed effortlessly. And you squint your eyes in the dark of the room in confusion as you try and make out his form. Your nightlight gives you a better view of his figure - he's turning when he realizes the light coming from the little star plugged into your wall is shining on him -

He's on the bed himself in a few seconds, ripping your nightlight off the wall as his arms are wrapping around you moments later - you're blinking away your sleep in confusion by the action as he suddenly moves his face into the crook of your neck, mumbling something incoherent you don't catch. You sigh tiredly, moving your hands and running them through his soft pink hair as his heart beat finally begins to calm down.

That was close. Too close. He presses you closer into him, not giving you the chance to catch a glimpse of his face - the dark markings on his skin that would give him away. He waits for you to fall asleep - before finally closing his eyes, breathing in your scent and allowing it to consume his mind.

You're out after a few minutes - but you're waking up a mere hour later because you simply cannot breath. He was holding you too tightly - god, why did his arms have to be so damn big? His biceps alone are practically suffocating you!

You're grabbing your phone, shining your flashlight on his face in an attempt to try and figure out just how to loosen your boyfriends grip on you - but your hand freezes as the bright light shines on his face.

Oh shit. That's not your boyfriend.

~

Imagine Sukuna's surprise when he awakes tied down to a chair - his hands behind his back and a gag in his mouth to prevent him from saying a single word. You're standing in front of him - peeking out from behind the tall figure of none other that Satoru Gojo - clutching onto the taller man's arm as he speaks on the phone with someone. It looked like the two of you were waiting for him to wake up.

You lock eyes with the King of Curses - and he cocks his head with amusement dancing in those ruby eyes. You're gently pulling on Satoru's sleeve - moving his attention from the phone in his hand to the now awakened King of Curses in front of him.

Your pointing a frying pan at Sukuna - your eyes narrowed and hard, but he doesn't miss the way your pretty lips tremble in fright as he makes eye contact with you - the intensity in his gaze was...

His eyes quickly catch onto your tank top - the sight of your delicate collar bones and the slope of your neck have his lips curling into a smirk - one that's hidden by the gag in his mouth, of course. He doesn't need you to know just how interesting he finds you.

"Ah! Finally awake, are we? We both know I'm stronger than you in your current state, Sukuna. So why don't you switch back with Yuji yeah?" Satoru says, an easy smile on his face as he pockets his phone

Sukuna moves his attention to the sorcerer, unamused and a bit irritated by the fact that Gojo was right. It wasn't smart to fight him now. Not yet.

Sukuna rips the bindings on his hands in a second - and he doesn't miss the way Satoru's body subconsciously moves to cover yours - you guys obviously didn't expect him to be able to break free through the thick rope so quickly. You must have called the sorcerer after he fell asleep - sneaky, he notes.

"You're lucky I feel generous - I'll let you keep your peace tonight and switch with the brat. I won't be so merciful next time."

His voice is commanding - loud and so deep, and he finds himself smiling again with the way your eyes curiously watch him from behind Gojo - who holds an arm out in front of you protectively

"If you have something to ask, then speak." He says, crossing his legs in front of him with a smirk as Gojo turns around to look at you the moment he realizes Sukuna was directing his command to you.

You look between the two as you catch your lip between your teeth with a frown. Sukuna could read you that easily? He didn't seem like the type to repeat his commands, and Gojo's lips set into a firm line were telling you not to say anything, but you couldn't stop yourself from speaking -

"Was that you a few hours earlier? When you took out my nightlight?" You question, tilting your head just the slightest bit as you watch him carefully. You were too sleepy then to ask questions - so here you are now.

He thought you looked adorable - you had lowered your 'threatening' fry pan now, and decided to fiddle with the ears of your bunny plushy instead - running the pads of your finger over the fluffy fabric. To him, you looked so sweet when you tilted you head at him like that - eyes curious and questioning as he lets out a sigh

"Yes. What about it?" He snaps, cocking a brow - daring you to question him further as you let out a huff. He didn't miss the way you rolled your eyes - but Gojo stepped forward, blocking Sukuna's view of you as he crossed his arms.

"Switch. Now."

Sukuna let's out a dissatisfied grunt - rolling his eyes in the same manner in which you did before he cranes his neck, meeting your gaze once again with a devilish grin that doesn't fail to heat your cheeks

"I'll see you again. You're mine."

But you aren't even given a second to respond - because Gojo's moving forward to catch Yuji - not Sukuna, as he switches with him.

Yuji looks up -a confused smile on his face as he looks between you and Gojo

"Uh - I feel like I missed something. Heh."

~

part three here! :)

tags/people who requested a part two! here ya go! :) @ay0nha @smolbeanzzz @ellaaa505 @califwhite

[goldenstring6123]

a quickie request LISTEN LISTEN HEAR ME OUT…… sylus fingering reader so so so hard and fast with his long ass fingers and you’re arching up in pleasure and he’s breathing into your mouth, hard against your thigh….. 🌚 (sometimes my own thoughts remind me i have no shame 🙏)

Sylus: Putting you to sleep

Warning: 2.3k word Smut, 18+ only! MDNI, AFAB!reader, reader may or may not be the mc, Fingering, Nipple play, slight begging, quickies (?)

Author's note: hehe, this ain't a full blown sex yet but here ya go!

"How long do you plan on staring, sweetie?" the tall silver-haired man lowered his balled fists to his hips, promptly turning towards your figure, which leaned by the doorpost. You dawned on messy hair, a tight black undershirt, and night shorts. It took him no less than a second to piece that you just woke up.

"Couldn't sleep." You stated.

Sylus shifted his weight to the other leg. "Would you like me to do something about it?" sincerely, he offered, yet his ruby red eyes flickering with roguish intent.

"Is there anything you can do?" You can't help but ask. With Sylus offering to aid your sleepless fatigue a million thoughts raced through your mind. He could knock you out to sleep, or maybe he'll ask you to spar with him. Whatever it was, you were ready to turn him down.

"Of course. What kind of lover would I be?" He took his sweet time undoing his wrist wrap; meanwhile, you took your sweet and ample time to approach the boxing ring. Everything else was by far dim apart from that platform.

It was silent. Any sound echoed in the combat room, reverberating against the metal posts and cement walls. It was 2 am, and not a single soul was in sight. You weren't sure if you were scared that you were both alone or at peace because Sylus was with you.

He took off his black undershirt and threw it aside shortly after; he hopped down with a large thud and stood before you, his broad figure looming ominously.

"Sylus?" you called. He moved his hand and flicked his fingers behind you. The only source of light that made you see is now gone. A few seconds more, as you feel Sylus' hands slither around your exposed waist, a silver moonlight peering through the windows turning red.

You wanted to say something, but you dared not do it.

His touch was warm as it dragged against your skin, leaving a stinging heat in its wake. Soon enough, another hand landed on your body and thighs, gliding like paper. Softly, Sylus' fingers traversed the top of your thighs, sliding lower and lower until he grasped the underside of your thigh.

Sylus yanked you closer, your thigh upwards. A muffled gasp erupted from your lips the moment your chest pressed against his torso. The heat that emanated from his body made yours tingle, yet to the touch, it was wet and slippery from the sweat of his workout.

"You're unusually quiet," He whispered against your ear. His teeth nibbled the lobe of your ears. A shiver traveled down your spine, sensitivity only then being realized. You didn't want to reply. You were on a thin thread between tiredness and lasciviousness; you no longer had the energy to deal with other feelings.

Once in a while, it was all right to let Sylus take the lead.

He grinded his body against yours, rubbing every surface of your body. The thin strap of your undershirt falls down to your shoulder as if taunting your partner to pull it off further. Sylus could feel your breasts against his abdomen. Supple and soft, your nipples slowly work themselves against the cloth.

You heard shifting from around you, and you could hear the clothes and cushions gather near your footing. Sylus buried his nose in the crook of your neck, placing a wet kiss near your collarbone. He pushed you back, and you fell onto the soft mattress and fabric. Sylus knelt in between your parted legs, one hand on your knee and one on the side near your waist.

Your chest heaved up and down, cleavage well exposed as your undershirt became more and more rumpled against your body. Your stomach was exposed, and your shorts were rendered practically useless with how you felt, as if you had nothing on. You couldn't help but blame it on your lover as well, his glowing eyes staring at every crevice of your body as he methodically planned on how to devour you.

Sylus didn't want to waste any more time. He took advantage of your parted lips and crashed it against his own. His tongue asked no permission and entered your mouth, the sluggish muscle probing, prodding against your tongue. He tasted like wine. You were intoxicated. He needed to explore you again. As if it was his first time. Grunts escaped his mouth, reverberating as he savored the taste of you.

Your chest burned. It yearned for air, yet the depraving sensation sent your body on edge, sending pulses to your very core. You let out moans as Sylus parted his lips from yours. His hands were back to where it was: on your body. Teasingly, his long fingers slid under the stretchy cloth of your cloth.

He was taking his sweet time. But you were impatient.

You hurriedly lifted your undershirt over your chest, the chilly yet dry air finally blowing on your breasts. You grabbed your lover's big hand and guided it to your left breast, the thing fitting in his grasp all too well. You could see him smile even in the dark. "Don't tease," you demanded.

His hands began to work, to knead. Sylus basked at the feeling of your lithe tits. He brought his mouth lower and lower through the sloppy and wet kisses, from your collarbone to your cleavage, and in one second, he suckled on your breast.

"haah…" You let out, arching your back at the electrifying cold of his tongue against your perked nipple. His tongue flicked up and down, threading lightly on your sensitive tip before sucking. That was enough to make you elicit another moan.

His spare hand traveled lower and lower, this time slipping underneath the garter of your shorts. He used his EVOL again, and the piece of apparel slipped off in one swift motion, leaving you in your underwear.

Two fingers danced on top of your lingerie, circling your pelvis before languidly trailing lower, just above your clit. "Hng…" you could feel the finger brush past it, pressing your entrance lightly through the cloth. "Why do you…Ah—" He flicked at your clit and nibbled at your nipple. "—Keep on teasing?"

He hummed, offering no form of response. His two fingers finally showed some generosity, fully pushing against your clit while ever so slightly rubbing left and right. Your muscles tensed every time he rubbed; you couldn't help but puff out your chest as well, feeding it onto his mouth more.

The rubbing turned circular, fast, rushed, meant to make you nearly scream from the electrical bolts of pressure that traversed from your pussy, down to your legs, up to your breasts, and to your neck. You were trying your best to keep still, but with Sylus playing with you, it seemed like a farfetched goal. "Ah…Mhn!" He pulled his finger away and tore off the last remaining cloth that covered your lower parts.

You felt his fingers glide up and down the inside of your folds, brushing lightly on your entrance while also hitting your clit. He was doing it lightly to slather your own slick across your cunt and let a thick coat of slimy translucent liquid form a thin sheet over it.

You twitched at every sensation— Sylus had always been good with his hands. Be it with a weapon or with you. His long fingers can make you heed his command; at times like these, you let yourself submit. Then, without warning, Sylus slipped his middle finger in your hole, burying it until his knuckles touched your entrance.

"AH?!" Long. His fingers were fucking long!

In some sort of way, when he pierced inside you, it rubbed your g spot, which made you arch your back once more. The finger inside you curled up, pressing against that overly tender and hot walls of flesh that hugged it tightly. Your lover was generous enough to start with shallow thrusts. Yet, you could still hear the crude, squelching noises. As a few seconds pass, his light, shallow thrusts become more and more aggressive, pulling in and out, stretching the ring of your entrance.

Mewls and moans escaped your throat no matter how hard you tried to swallow it in. It did not help that the sounds you were making echoed around the training room, making you hear how you sounded.

Another finger slipped in, and that's when you felt the stretch. Sylus' finger moved in sync, hooking onto that one sport that made you tremble. He scissored his fingers and opened them wide, stretching you out too. The palm of his hand slaps against your skin, imitating a weak slapping sound, yet with it comes the squelch of your juices, overflowing out of your womanhood and trickling down to the mattress.

You gripped the cloth and cushion, hoping it could anchor you down, and it did its job somehow. Waves of pleasure overcame you as he continued to thrust, occasionally rubbing your clit with his thumb. You twisted and turned, even threatening to close your thighs at the sheer pleasure, but Sylus wouldn't let you.

He kissed you in between actions, muffling out your cries and slipping in his tongue without consideration. You were on the verge of your own sanity, the only sensation left being the quick pooling of pleasure at the bottom of your stomach. You were nowhere near your climax when he pulled out of you quickly.

"No! Sylus!" You cried, pushing yourself up to look at him. Under the red light, you saw him move his hand again, and you were suddenly enveloped by the dark mist of his evil, pulling you up and settling you on Sylus's lap.

You rested your arms on his broad shoulders, placing your weight on your knees, which were spread to his side. Slowly, the discharge in your pussy began to trickle down your thigh as nothing was plugging it up.

"Sylus—fingers." You demanded, biting his ear. He happily obliged with your requests, and soon enough, three fingers were pumping up your hole. His movements were erratic, switching between shallow and deep thrusts while simultaneously applying pressure on the tip of his fingers against your G-spot.

Your body twitched, and your eyes watered. To hide your scandalous moans, you kissed Sylus over and over again, him breathing into your mouth as you cried out his name. You could feel his Cock tight against his boxing shorts, yet you didn't want to take it out.

You were more than sure that you couldn't take it. With the state of your body and what your lover was doing to you, you were going to pass out the moment you hit your peak.

Sylus wasn't slowing down. Rougher and rougher, his hands worked with a rigorous desire to help you come. His whole hand was slathered with your juices, his ears filled with your delightful moans, which you failed to hide. His mouth sucked on your breasts, and his nose savored the raw scent of your body. Sylus never gets enough of these, and as much as he would've wanted to pound into it, he was too entranced by the moment.

The tips of your fingers began to heat up, your muscles turning tense as a cold sweat scattered through the back of your neck. Hurriedly, the pleasure pooled in your stomach overwhelmed you, filling you up and churning your core, "Sylus…" You called, almost begging. "I'm close….Mhng!" You throw your head forward, your mouth against his ear, as you no longer hold back your cries of pleasure.

"Ah! Ahnm! Hnng!" You let out.

You felt his thumb rub your clit again, and you bucked your hips forward, his fingers ramming your beloved spot roughly, repeatedly, torturously. You feel yourself well up, the heat in your stomach growing larger and larger the more Sylus rubs your clit. "Sylus…Sylus, Please, Sylus— I'm almost there!" You grabbed onto his hair for dear life, yanking it back before sloppily kissing him.

An electrifying ripple bloomed out from your pussy, making your lower region jolt at his continuous movements. You throw your head back and let out a scream laced with pleasure and desire— You can only see white as your insides throb, clutching onto the fingers that made you feel full.

God, that felt fucking amazing.

As you savored the high of your orgasm, Sylus looked up at you as he pressed his own face against your breast, marveling at the sight of you reaching your peak, reveling the loud and unconcealable thumps of your chest. He kissed your breasts and then your heart, slowly supporting your weight as you come down from your high.

He laid you down on the mattress ever so gently, brushing the sweat-riddled hair that stuck onto your face. Your eyes can't help but flutter shut, still savoring the last remnants of your orgasm. Tiredness washed over your body like the sea crashing onto the shoreline; with it, it brought relaxation and ease.

"Thank you," you whisper as you finally fall asleep.

Using his EVOL for the last time, Sylus gathered the clothes scattered around you and chucked them with his own. His towel from the wooden benches floated, promptly spreading and covering your exposed body. He picked you up, disregarding his own stiff manhood tucked in his pants.

He can deal with that later. For now, he should bring you back to your room and clean you up. The last thing he wants is for you to get sick.

Of course, Sylus didn't do this for free. He never does anything for free. You'd be a fool if you think he did.

Whether you know it or not, he'll make you compensate, and just your luck: he's getting up early tomorrow and more than eager to hear your cries again in the morning.

Author footnotes: With the amount of Sylus smut that I read, I wanted to write him without speaking much, y'know? just focusing on you and not coming up with witty replies to every word you say.Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost | Dividers by cafekitsune & me!

[dollfacefantasy]

Dream Walking ♡

pairing: rick grimes x fem!reader

summary: you catch rick having a wet dream about you. you both try to move on from it, but with it stuck in each of your minds, it's near impossible to just go back to the way things were.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, dub-con, age gap (20s, late 30s), wet dreams, somnophilia

word count: 5.4k

Since the prison fell, you’ve had time to think about what it is you miss most. The security of the fences was nice, so was the comfort of the thin mattresses. There were also the routines everyone had fallen into that filled your days with a sliver of how life felt before everything went wrong. However, the piece you missed most, the thing you craved on nights like these, was the privacy of your cell.

You took those months for granted at the time. The ability to retire to your own space once the sun set was long gone. Now you lie with the rest of the group on the floor of this barn, sleeping all together like a pack of wolves in a den.

It wasn’t that it was horrible. You felt safe with everyone so close. You also didn’t have to worry about anything going wrong in the night without your knowledge. It just wasn’t as pleasant as getting to be alone at the end of the day when both your mind and body are tired. How you craved the sound of the steel bars shutting and the feeling of the lumpy pillow against your head.

But all that lies underneath a pile of rubble now. There was no use wishing for another time you’d never get back.

You sigh and roll onto your side. The thunder and rain outside was keeping you up. Your eyes scan the dark room to try and find another open pair, any one of your friends who would be able to suffer along with you. You don’t find any, which is a good thing you suppose, but now you’re left to lay all alone in hopes of sleep calling your name sometime soon.

You were in the corner of the barn with your jacket tucked under your head. That’s the spot you’d taken up as soon as people were picking where to sleep. You liked having walls to your back. It was less space for something to hide or attack from. Some of your friends like Abraham and Daryl lie along the walls like you while others like Carl and Michonne rest near the center, wanting to be close to any potential threat.

Rick sleeps a foot or two from you. He’s on his back, one arm behind his head while the other is draped over his abdomen. You can hear the deep and even rhythm of his breath, and you know that he’s out cold at least for the time being.

After a little while he rolls onto his side like you had, and you think that you’ve found someone to share your struggles with. When you look over at him though, his eyes are still shut, his lips are still parted, and his body is still limp. 

Your lips purse with disappointment, but your eyes soften. He needed the rest. He’d been stretching himself to the limit ever since your group had barely made it out of Terminus alive. You understood why. The group needed somewhere stable to call home. You just wished he wouldn’t put that responsibility entirely on himself.

You always liked Rick. He’d taken you in a couple months after the outbreak when you were scared and alone, shaking and covered in blood on the side of the highway. You’d just seen the final members of your previous group fall victim to the dead. On the verge of giving up and letting a herd claim you too, you saw him dash by. He was looking for a missing little girl. Instead he’d found you.

Even on the farm when everyone was fighting over everything all the time, you admired him like you did now. It was almost weird to think of him now compared to back then. The clean-cut officer friendly you’d met a couple years ago now sported shaggy hair and a beard along with eyes always scanning for danger.

The crush you harbored for him was as strong as ever though. Not one thing about that had changed. Unlike his hair, you hadn't grown out of it in the slightest.

You continue watching him while the wind and rain team up to beat against the wooden slats of the barn walls. Interrupting your study of his features, he grunts. It’s quiet; so much so that you almost miss it amongst the other noise. It seems ordinary enough, but he does it again. And then again as he rolls further to his side so that he’s nearly on his stomach.

“Mmmm…” he sighs, “Fuck.”

Your eyes widen a little at that, but you smile, wondering what was frustrating him in the world of his dreams. His lips smack idly against one another for a moment before he speaks again.

“Just like that, baby. Atta girl,” he murmurs.

And now you’re really interested. 

Your hand flies to your mouth to stifle your reaction. You didn’t know whether to laugh or try to wake him. You knew that waking him up would be the right thing to do… but you didn’t want to just yet. He rolls his hips against the hard ground he’s sleeping on, which you know can’t feel that good. But he does it again. And he looks like a divine being as he does so, everything about him enrapturing you.

Another low groan seeps from his mouth, and a couple incoherent words follow. You bite your lip and look around again to make sure no one else is watching you. You couldn’t help wondering who he was dreaming of. Maybe Lori still crossed his mind every once in a while or possibly he harbored some secret desire for someone in the group. Perhaps it was just a plain old sex dream and he was envisioning some woman he liked before the world changed.

“Fuck…” he grunts again, “Such a good girl.”

Warmth simmers to life in your belly, and you find your thighs rubbing against one another. Those two words were a weak spot of yours, so of course he'd have to rasp them out like that. You'd be lying if you said you'd never imagined them falling from his lips but hearing it in reality was so much sweeter.

His arms shift around as he continues trying to find some relief against the dirt. By this point, a bulge has formed at the front of his pants, and the sight is enough to make your mouth water. You know this is wrong, perving on him like this, but you swear to yourself that you're gonna wake him up. Just a few more seconds. Though before you get the chance, he moans again.

Among some expletives and praise, your name floats into the night. The syllables leak out in a hushed manner, but they send a jolt through you regardless. Your eyes widen and the heat in your tummy creeps up through your neck into your cheeks.

"Just a little deeper, dolly," he slurs, "That's it."

This time you're unable to repress the laughter that bubbles in your chest. The sound is soft, but it's enough to rouse him.

His eyes flutter open, his pupils still laden with sleep. It takes him a few seconds to register all that's going on.

"What're you gigglin' about?" he grumbles as he sits up and rubs his face.

But as soon as he moves, he becomes conscious of what was so amusing to you. He feels it rock hard against his thigh and flashes of his dream run through his mind. You can see it on his face, the embarrassment over the fact that he'd been caught having a wet dream. Caught by the very person it starred.

"Sorry," you simper.

He tries to maintain his usual stern temperament, but you see his humility in the flush of his cheeks. He can't look you in the eyes right now. His mind struggles to grasp the words that would make this better.

"Grow up," he mumbles as he starts to roll the other direction, "You've never had one of those? How old are you?"

"Old enough for you to dream about apparently," you say with another little laugh as you go to lay down yourself.

"Shut up," he mutters before closing his eyes again.

A few days went by before either of you addressed it. That was Rick's doing since he pretty much avoided you as best he could after it happened. It made you a little sad, but it was understandable. You probably would've done the same if the roles were reversed.

The group had left the shack from that night in search of more food and water. The bunch of you stagger in factions as you walk along some train tracks through the woods. Maggie, Glenn, and Tara lead at the front while Michonne with Carl carrying Judith linger a little behind them. You're trekking along with Sasha and Rosita before letting yourself fall back so you can be besides Rick.

"Are you mad at me?" you ask.

He glances over at you. "No, I'm not mad at you," he states matter of factly. 

"It seems like you are."

"Why's that?" he asks.

"Cause you've been avoiding me," you say with a coy smile.

"I haven't been avoidin' you," he denies.

"Mhm," you respond, "C'mon, it's not that big of a deal. Things don't have to be weird now."

His eyes remain on you as if trying to analyze your intentions. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything," he says.

"The only thing making me uncomfortable is how awkward you are around me now," you say with a little feigned pout, "Seriously, I don't care. It was just a dream. People can't control dreams. It's not like I caught you jerkin’ off to a picture of me."

"Keep your voice down," he says, eyes flitting ahead to make sure no one had heard the topic of your conversation. He then sighs and runs a hand over his sweaty hair.

"C'mon, Rick," you say. You give his arm a little shove but do make a point to lower your volume. "I'm sorry for laughing at you."

"No you're not," he says and for the first time in days, he cracks a small smile.

Your face reflects his expression like a mirror. "Well... it was funny. But I still didn't mean to make you feel bad. It doesn't bother me or anything. I know dreams don't reflect real life," you reassure him.

He nods and remains quiet for a moment as the two of you continue down the tracks. You were slightly hoping he'd tell you his dream was based in reality. That he did want you while awake just as much as he did while he slept. But that was a wilder dream than the one that had caused all this. 

He finally speaks and looks over at you again. "I appreciate you keeping it to yourself and not making a thing out of it."

"Of course," you beam at him, "I'm a good girl, remember?"

He gives you an unamused stare in response before lightly shoving the back of your head, guiding you back towards the rest of the group. Despite his outward annoyance, you could see the fondness return to his eyes.

It only took you a few weeks to make Rick regret his leniency in regards to your jokes. You still hadn't told anyone directly about his dream which he was grateful for, but people would probably find out soon enough with all your teasing and hinting.

At first, it seemed like you truly wanted to move on from it; leave what you'd witnessed in the past and forever wonder if the dream spawned from a place of true desire or just his brain fucking with him. Things were stressful enough for everyone during that week, especially Rick. The group had nearly succumbed to dehydration one day and struggled to find shelter for the next few.

But then you all had been invited to Alexandria. You and the others had been welcomed with open arms into a slice of the old world. Everything seemed to settle down for the most part. Your people were still on edge, Rick was ready for conflict at any moment, but no longer were you constantly worried about if you'd be able to find food or water.

And with things simmering down, Rick was pretty sure you decided that it'd be ok for you to turn the heat up.

It was after a week or so of being there that the jokes started back up. You'd reference the "good girl" part of it the most, but occasionally you'd mix it up and go for a "just like this, right Rick?"

Each little remark, every time your smug smile rose on your lips, the way you pranced around the community as if you knew a dirty little secret; it all compounded, a new stone being thrown at the glass that housed Rick's resolve.

Tonight he can't sleep. Everyone else in your group is passed out, exhausted from a long day. But he's wide awake. He feels restless. He shifts around on the sofa and sighs, rubbing his eyes.

Since joining Alexandria, everyone had begun easing up about sleeping arrangements. The first week, you all piled into one house and slept around the living room as if it was one of the sheds you'd been bouncing between before. But after some time went by, people began to spread out.

Everyone had basically claimed a house as their own by now, some sharing their's with a few other group members. Rick kept the one everyone had started off in. Carl and Judith slept peacefully in bedrooms of their own upstairs while he took the couch. Even though this place seemed like a paradise, he couldn't bring himself to trust it yet. He couldn't sleep in the master bedroom that was tucked away in the back of the second floor. It was the farthest from the stairs and all the doors. He'd never forgive himself if something happened and he wasn't in the position to protect his children.

Though they weren't the only ones in the house with him now. Peering down the hallway in front of him, he could see you. Despite how much you loved acting tough and teasing, underneath you were still vulnerable, and Rick wasn't blind to how you looked to him for comfort. When you came to him in the evening and asked to stay as everyone was heading off to their own beds, he couldn't say no. You could make all the bratty jokes and innuendos in the world, and he still couldn't stomach the thought of you feeling unsafe.

You were still sleeping on the floor against the wall. As much as you had missed your bed from the prison, you found yourself not ready to transition back to a mattress again when the time came. Rick understood. It felt weird going from the hard ground where you could spring to action in seconds to a comfy bed that cradled your form and kept you drowsy and unaware. At least in your place in the hall, you slept on some chair cushions he offered you so your body wasn't bare against the hardwood.

He watches you, taking in your sleeping form amidst the quiet of the house. A thin blanket covered most of your body, but he could still admire other parts of you from a distance. He could see the precious way your fingers curled around the edge of the fuzzy material draped over you. Your face looked so soft and delicate in its completely relaxed state. Your cute, plush lips were parted ever so slightly.

As his eyes raked over you, he felt something stir within himself. Instead of hearing your gentle breathing, the sounds his mind had created as you moaning in his dream played through his head. He tries to shake them away and think of other things, but you are all his brain wants to think about. If it's not you moaning or writhing in pleasure beneath him, it's how you giggle after telling one of your stupid jokes. It's the way your eyes widen with amusement when he growls "keep it down."

And if it's not that, earlier memories flicker through his internal vision. He can still remember the day he met you like it was last week. You standing there, bloody and shaking. Your eyes wide and darting around. So different from the you he saw today.

He sits up and scratches his jaw, feeling the skin that was now smooth from his recent shave. He still couldn't tear his eyes away from you. You had rolled over now, taking some of the blanket with you. He could see slivers of your legs and the roundness of your ass peeking from below the border of the blanket. Sighing, he leans back into the couch and pinches the bridge of his nose.

He had it bad for you, and he knew it. He just didn't like thinking about that fact or being cognizant of how pathetic he could be for you. Like having a wet dream. He hadn't had one of those in well over a decade before this last time. It was ridiculous.

It wasn't so much that he thought you didn't reciprocate. You were all but a petulant schoolgirl pulling her crush's hair for attention. Rather it was just that you were quite a bit younger than him, and it made him feel like shit. He supposed it didn't matter, being the end of the world and all. Things weren't the same as they used to be. It was a miracle to find anyone you could feel this way about now. But that didn't stop guilt from tying his intestines into knots every time he imagined anything more with you.

You didn't ease that feeling by toying with him so much either. Day in and day out, you practically begged for more out loud every time he came around you. His mind swirls with all the instances of your temptation, and in this moment, he really starts to feel that his guilt is unnecessary. It would probably return in full force tomorrow, but for right now, while he thinks of all the things you put him through, he feels like he deserves a little something for his troubles.

He stands up, and finds himself walking towards the area you sleep at the end of the hall. Any other man left in this world would have staked their claim on you by now. A pretty girl flagrantly throwing herself at the object of her affection. His honor held him back, but it wasn't like this was something so serious, right? Didn't he deserve to let go once in a while?

He crouches down next to you. At first, he only stares, but soon enough his hand follows. It starts on your shoulder, rubbing in a small circle. His palm then slides up and down your side. He can feel your muscles molding to his touch. Your body recognizes your need for him even when unconscious.

He maneuvers himself closer to you, sliding behind you on the cushions so that his chest is against your back. His hand stays on your body, continuing its slow, rhythmic movements. He keeps it over your shirt at first before slipping it beneath, exploring the skin of your midriff.

You let out a little sigh and shift a bit in your sleep. You still don't wake up though. He nestles his face against the back of your neck, taking a breath of your scent. He imagines what would happen if you woke up right now. He's positive you'd be startled, but he'd bet his life you wouldn't push him away.

He'd only ever been this close to you one time before. It was a couple days after the prison fell. Like right now, it was also at night. It wasn't sensual like he was trying to make this moment though. That time you'd had a nightmare. You woke up in tears, shivering in the pitch black of the random house you were shacked up in with him and Carl. It hadn't taken any words. He knew what you needed. He held you close like right now until you'd returned to the safe embrace of sleep. Unlike his wet dream, the two of you had never spoken about that since.

Testing the waters, his fingers dip below the hem of your shorts. They glide over your hip bone, pressing a tender massage into the skin. You like that. He can tell from the way you lean into it. You roll onto your back to be closer to him.

He really goes for it now. His hand slides to the front of you to cup your sex over your panties. He positions his face in the crook of your neck and lays a few soft pecks on your throat. His digits then start to move slowly.

They caress your pussy over the soft fabric shielding it from his raw touch. But even with the thin barrier, he can tell you feel the sparks of pleasure. Your hips wiggle a little bit. Your mind can't discern what exactly the sensation is right now. All you know is that it's starting to disturb your slumber.

You whine, the tender noise garbled and half-hearted.

"Shh-shh, sweet girl," he coos in your ear.

Upon hearing his voice, he sees your eyelids twitch as if they want to open. His middle finger slots itself between your lips and strokes with more precision. He can feel slick starting to soak through the garment. You whimper again. There's still a chance this could go so wrong, but that's part of what has his blood pumping down South to his building erection.

Your thighs part, your subconscious desire shining through. He chuckles against your neck and swirls the pad of his finger over your little bud.

"There you go. Let me in, honey," he praises.

Him speaking again is what finally draws you back into the waking world. Your eyes crack open. You're confused by what's happening; the warmth to your left side, the tingling between your legs, the raspy voice in your ears.

The moment reality clicks in your head is visible to Rick. Your eyes widen, as much as they can while your lashes are still heavy with drowsiness. Your head turns to connect your gaze with him. As he expected, the situation was jarring to you but not in a way that was completely bad. His movements slow, but they don't come to a full stop.

"Rick, what are you-"

He cuts you off by leaning in and putting his lips on yours. It felt different than you'd imagined. You'd become so used to seeing him with a beard that your daydreams always had his kisses feeling scratchy. You didn't update your ideas when he'd shaven clean. There's no scratch at all now. Nothing but his lips on yours.

His heart pounds violently within his ribcage. He pulls back, ready for your final verdict. He feels your thighs squeezing around his wrist.

"What are you doing?" you ask, your voice soft and hazy like you had asked if you were still dreaming.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he responds, "I'm givin' you what you want." 

"Are you sure it's not what you want?" you ask.

Of course you'd still try to tease. Even when he so clearly had the upper hand.

"Oh I'm sure. You're not a mystery, sweetheart," he says quietly. He pauses for a moment but decides to to continue. "It took me having a wet dream for you to figure out you might have a chance, but I've known you've wanted me for a long time now just from how you look at me. Like you have little hearts in your eyes."

You bite your lip, both to suppress the moan bubbling in your esophagus and out of an embarrassment at how dead on he was. His finger works at you faster, sliding around in your arousal as he nips at your earlobe.

"You may as well have written 'fuck me' across your forehead, babydoll. Would've given me the same impression," he whispers.

You whine, and god, he can't get enough of how it feels to be the one teasing. For once, he's doling out the humiliation to you. You're the one with the shame boiling in your tummy and heat melting rational thought away in your brain. Your hips start to rock against his hand.

"Was this what your dream was about?" you whimper.

"No," he answers, smiling at your whiny tone, "That night you caught me I was dreaming about you sucking me off."

The mere suggestion makes your back arch and shaky breath exit your lungs. Once you're settled on the cushions again, Rick resumes filling in the details you hadn't been privy to.

"That's what got me. You were on your knees, looking up at me with those sweet eyes, pretty mouth full of cock. You were moanin', droolin' on it. You just couldn't get enough," he recalls as if talking about a memory, "I bet you love having a dick in your mouth, don't you? Lips like those were made for it."

You mewl again before nodding weakly. "I would've done it for you if you asked."

"I'm sure you would have," he smirks.

He leans in to give you more kisses as his fingers keep playing with your pussy. You keep rolling yourself into the touches. He's guessing you're getting close from the way your pace is picking up. He pulls back for a small break to catch his breath.

"Isn't this so much more fun when you're not being such a smartass?" he teases.

You pout at him as a reply. Your bottom lip wobbles as you struggle to maintain the expression. It was hard pretending to be upset when he was giving you everything you wanted.

"Don't look at me like that," he chuckles, "You're still a sweet girl. You just need the brattiness fucked out of you sometimes."

That wipes the pout away clean. Your lips part as you let out a tiny moan.

"Good girl," he croons.

But despite his praise, only a few moments later, he retracts his hand from your panties. You whine, and your eyes look up at him with a desperate urgency. He couldn't leave you like this. It would be deserved revenge for all your antics. 

"Nuh uh, none of that," he murmurs as his hand goes to push down his sweats instead, "So spoiled, and I haven't even started with you yet."

You quiet down, just relieved he's not leaving. You boost your hips to push your shorts and underwear down. He watches with satisfied eyes at your attempt to match him.

"I want you cummin' on my cock before anything else, sweet thing. Think you can do that for me?"

"Mhm," you hum softly.

Your stomach flutters and your clit throbs when his cock is finally in view. Just seeing it makes your mouth water. It's hard all for you, angry veins spanning down the shaft to the swollen head. You reach for it, but he stops you by grabbing your wrist.

"You don't get to touch it just yet. It's going inside you first. Then if you're good, I might let you play with it later," he says. 

In truth, this was the first bit of action Rick was getting in a while. Under no circumstances would he give you more ammunition for jokes by blowing his load from a handjob and then not getting it back up to fuck you proper.

You kick your bottoms all the way off as he rolls on top of you. He gives himself a few strokes of preparation before swiping his tip through your folds. A groan vibrates in his chest as the feeling of the warm, sticky fluid coating him. He lines himself up and sinks in. His hands move to the back of your knees, pushing your legs up to either side of your abdomen.

"Fuck, baby. You're tight," he grunts as he works himself between your walls.

You nod simply, still adjusting to the feeling of him stretching you out. Your walls flutter around him as if happy to finally have what you'd been craving for what feels like forever. He grunts again and tightens his grip on your legs.

A little bit more, and he's all the way in. He takes a moment to just feel it, your warm, wet, cunt sucking him in, embracing him like it was made to be his.

His forehead drops to press against yours as he begins to move. He thrusts at a moderate pace, but he makes sure to strike deep every time. Both of you are taking care to be somewhat quiet since it was the dead of night, but the sensations are strong with or without the noise.

"This what you been wantin', dolly?'” he breathes as the skin of his pelvis connects with your ass.

"Yeah, been wanting it everyday," you whimper, "I was hoping you'd have another dream."

"Oh yeah?" he asks, chuckling lowly between pants, "And you'd have been ready to help me out if it happened again, right?"

"Yeah. I needed it so bad. You don't understand," you whine. One of your hands rises up and tugs on his brown curls.

That draws a growl from him and makes him fuck into you harder.

"I do understand, pretty girl. Every time you ran that cute little mouth, I wanted to bend you over, spank that sweet cunt raw and then fuck it full," he mumbles.

Your eyes screw shut at the image he puts in your head. Your arms wrap around his neck and keep him close as can be. His hips rut into you with passion you'd never felt from anyone else before.

"That's all I wanted," you whine, clamping down around his length.

"You're gonna get it right now," he says and pounds against your hips harder.

They had morning after pills here. He'd seen a few packs in the infirmary. Cumming inside you one time would be fine. That's what his lust-driven mind told him anyways. He'd make sure to get some condoms before next time, because there would be a next time.

You wrap your legs around him and squeeze. He lets out a moan himself and slides his head over to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

"Fuck, baby. You ready?" he asks.

You nod eagerly as you approach the edge yourself. You slide one hand down to your clit, giving it a few strokes to make sure you could get there with him.

His nails dig into the flesh of your hips when he cums. His jaw clenches, and he grits his teeth, using everything in him to stay quiet. And you cum seconds later. The way you pulse around him milks him dry. He spurts rope after rope of pent up release into your wanting cunt.

You tremble and whimper beneath him, your eyes unable to decide if they wanna roll back or close tight. He gently rocks his hips against you the whole time until you're both sated. Once both of your bodies are ready to give out, he pulls out of you. He drops back onto his side like he had been before and puts himself back together.

You reach down and pull your clothes back into place. He wasn't sure what was gonna happen next until you turned to look at him. Once he has a look at your expression, he can see the part of you that loves to rile him up and tease is gone right now. The vulnerable one that lurks beneath the surface has the reins right now. 

You curl up to his chest. You wanna cuddle and kiss as you come down, and he gives you that. He gives it to you until you drift off to sleep again. He's not far behind you. You'd tired him out enough that he felt he could pass out too.

He scoops you up and brings you back to the couch with him, imagining this would look better than the both of you crumpled up on the floor together in a pile of disheveled blankets. Having you tucked to his side like this was all he needed right now. He'd done more than let go tonight. He was letting you in.

But those were thoughts for tomorrow. Right now, he's content to doze off with you into a dreamless sleep. There was no need for dreams now that he had the real thing in his arms.